Sunday, May 07, 2017

Cheyenne of House of the Rising Son by @TrevannRogers #Incubus, #Shapeshifters, #UrbanFantasy

I’d like to welcome Cheyenne of House of the Rising Son by Trevann Rogers.

RW:       What’s your story/back story? Why would someone come up with a story about you?

C:          I am an incubus, a sexual demon, but don’t let the “demon” part scare you. I’m also a guitarist, songwriter and singer. It’s the perfect gig for me because I feed on all that sexual energy the audience feels when I perform. You’ll have to ask Trevann why she writes about me. She’s been a fan of mine a long time...I’m sure there are a lot of stories about me in her head.

RW:       Can you tell us about your hero?

C:          That would be Zander—Alexander. He started out as a fan, and we grew into friends, which turned into...I don’t know what we are but we’re more than friends. Even though we come from very different backgrounds, we have the same kind of problems with our families, and that sort of bonds us.

RW:       What problems do you have to face and overcome in your life?

C:          My father is the leader of the incubi. He wants me to give up music and work in the family business. I want no part of telling people what to do, let alone being responsible for my whole race. Besides, I have bigger plans.

RW:       Do you expect your hero to help or is he the problem?

C:          Alexander understands family drama, so he’s willing to help deal with them. He was human when I met him, but the fact that he’s now a Weretiger came in handy when Dad tried to steal my children and we had to rescue them.

RW:       Where do you live?

C:          I have an apartment in Unakite City.

RW:       During what time-period does your story take place?

A.          Uh, that’s a freaky question. I live in the present. Don’t you?

RW:       Bubble baths or steamy showers? Ocean or mountains? Puppies or kittens? Chocolate or caramel?

C:          Nothing better than a steamy shower for two. Can’t choose between mountains and oceans; I like both and can have either with a little effort. Love kittens—just ask Alexander. Kidding! Don’t really ask him that. And chocolate is like sex: Any kind is good, any time.

RW:       If you were stranded on a tropical island, who would it be with? You can choose any living, deceased or mythical figure.

C:          I would be happy anywhere as long as I have my kids and Alexander with me.

RW:       If you came with a warning label, what would it say?

C:          Fasten your seatbelt and grab your floatation device. It’s gonna be a wild, wet ride.

RW:       Satin sheets or Egyptian cotton?

C:          Egyptian cotton. It’s more stable. Satin sheets can be dangerous. You’ll slide right off them…with the right partner.

RW:       Those are all the questions I have for you. Thank you for speaking to me.

C:          Hey, it’s been a blast. Thanks for having me.

Trevann Rogers


Trevann Rogers writes urban, fantasy, and LGBT paranormal romances. Her books include House of The Rising Son and its prequel novella, After Midnight. Trevann’s stories incorporate an unquenchable addiction to music, and her love for vampires, weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures, Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.

House of the Rising Son

The Plot

Sex. Rebellion. Rock and Roll.
An incubus and two toddlers walk into a bar…wait. That’s no joke. That’s Cheyenne’s life, and you weren’t supposed to see them.
Cheyenne, a half-human incubus, is good at keeping secrets. He keeps his music career hidden from his tyrannical father. He keeps his true nature as an incubus secret from the humans whose lust sustains him. And he keeps his children unknown to the incubi, especially the royal family—his family.
As Cheyenne’s musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can’t let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who’s not sure if he’s falling for the incubus or the rocker.
His so-called friends and family conspire to make Cheyenne choose between his children and his career, but he isn’t playing that game. He doesn’t buy into the “your kids could save the race” madness. He only has to keep them safe. Besides he’s got bigger plans—he’s going to be a rock star.
Warning: Contains hot were-tiger sex, a Thanksgiving celebration that makes the Inquisition look like a tea party, and an incubus who’ll rock your world.

An Excerpt:

Duh. They’d been talking about it earlier. Strong emotion set off the transformation. Cheyenne bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He knew exactly what to do.
“But you let that asshole get the better of you, didn’t you? “Why didn’t you just beat the shit out of him, Zander?”
“I could have. I chose not to hurt him.” Alexander clenched his fists.
The taste of Alexander’s anger stabbed Cheyenne’s senses. He took in the pulsating emotion and returned a wave of fury.
“I chose not to hurt him’,” Cheyenne mocked. “Sure. You rolled over and took his crap just like you take crap from Prudence. Just like you roll over for your father. Just like you roll over and take it from me.” Cheyenne drew back his arm and swung at Alexander.
Alexander grabbed his forearm. “You’re wrong, little man.” His hazel eyes glowed. “I only roll over for you.” He threw back his head and opened his mouth wide with a thundering roar.
Cheyenne staggered backward. Alexander’s face and hands transformed first, as they had in Underhill, misshapen by human standards but majestically feline. Muscles rippled and stretched over elongating bones, bending his body forward onto forelegs. A sea of white and black fur flowed over his evolving body.
The massive new tiger shuddered from head to tail then crouched low, growling. Twice as long as Cheyenne was tall and hundreds of pounds of muscle, Alexander’s tiger embodied beauty and danger.
“Cheyenne stood still and whispered, “Zander, please tell me you’re in there. But quietly. That roar of yours is lethal.”
The tiger tilted his head to the side and chuffed.
“That’s my boy,” Cheyenne cooed.
Alexander growled.
“Ah, got it. No treating you like a house pet. Check.”
He went over to Alexander and hesitated before extending his hand. “Don’t bite me. I’m going to pet you. I have to. You are so beautiful.”
He held his breath and laid his hand on the tiger’s head, caressing the soft fur. The big cat nuzzled into his palm. “We did it, Zander. I told you we could.”
Alexander batted Cheyenne’s legs.
“Hey.” Cheyenne hit the ground face to face with Alexander. He’d know those eyes anywhere. “It is you inside. I knew it.” He stroked the tiger’s jowl. “I’m positive we can change you back. You already know what it feels like to be in your human body. Just a couple more times changing into your tiger and you’ll have it down pat.”
Alexander bumped his huge head to Cheyenne’s.
“The sun will be up soon. We don’t want to scare the joggers. We better get started.” Cheyenne scooted around to the tiger’s side and dug his cell phone out of his back pocket. “But hang on.” He held the phone in front of them and grinned. “Time for a selfie.”

You can find Trevann online at:
Twitter: @TrevannRogers

Book Link:


  1. Thank you so much for having Cheyenne as your guest today, Rochelle. He told me to ask you if you wanted to go out for drinks--or anything else you had in mind. Don't worry. I reminded him this was a purely professional gig. He's disappointed but says, and I quote, "Maybe next time."

  2. Hi Trevann. Tell Cheyenne I'm flattered, but I suspect my grandson would be more interested. He's probably much closer to Cheyenne's age. He'll be 21 next month. But I'm flattered, even considering the source. I'm not sure how long incubi live, although I sometimes think maybe I married one. And my grandson may have inherited those genes. I've seen his Facebook page. ;-D Any of you is welcome back any time.