Grace is a lifeguard who has been on Rafe’s radar since she lost a little boy three years ago. What she doesn’t realize is the green haze that comes over her during a rescue is actually a divine presence who’s about to give up his celestial body to become a very real entity in her life.
While Grace is trying to overcome her own demon, Rafe is discovering his own sexuality, but there’s a darker presence making himself known. The Deceiver wants what Rafe is getting, and he’ll do whatever it takes to have her.
Gabriel is God’s Strength, the Messenger, who’s been tasked with delivering the Word for millennia. His most recent assignment will be his last, to fall in love and become human. But he can’t quite figure out what he’s done to displease the Boss. Gabriel’s latest assignment might be the hardest, but this gorgeous rubenesque quirk of a woman definitely has him intrigued.
Michael, the archangel of war, is pissed. Humanity has taken every last vestige of any feelings he might have had and colored them in with cynicism. He’s ready to be done. So when The Boss gives him the deal, he’s eager for his mortality, at any cost, regardless of who he has to ‘fall in love’ with to get it. Blessed death. That’s what he’s looking forward to. When he finds out what Faith does for a living, he’s pissed off all over again.
Faith is a cat burglar, but when she inadvertently makes a deal with Damien, Michael steps in to protect what is rightfully his. She’s not over her own tragic past, and this hulking bundle of hotness can’t change that. But when he insists on protecting her, claiming her, and dominating her, she is powerless to deny her own emotions.
For mature audiences. Contains swear words, sex, elements of BDSM, and possibly heretical viewpoints.
Excerpt from Falling for Faith
“Ballsy… breaking in with a house full of people.” The quiet voice behind her had her heart pounding before he’d even finished speaking. Spinning on her heel, she turned to find an exquisite man lounging on the chair in the middle of the room, watching her with interest, if not amusement. Something else shone in the depths of his eyes, though. Anger?
“It’s actually easier this way,” she whispered. He’d caught her in the act, there was no use denying it. And his relaxed posture, legs casually crossed, leaning back, stroking his chin, told her he wasn’t in a hurry to turn her in. Did he want a cut?
Nope. She wasn’t going to let him screw this up. This was her last job for Shamus, and she’d be damned if she’d let herself get caught now. Security. He had to be on security detail here, and she must have done something to give herself away. He had followed her. She wasn’t sure how, but he had. And now she was busted.
“Who are you?”
He didn’t answer her, which was irritating, but she wasn’t exactly in a position to force the issue. As tall and fit as she was, she could see he was taller and fitter, even from his seated position. She didn’t need a scene here tonight. Maybe a distraction would work.
Licking her lips, Faith eased her hip to the side, revealing a leg. She watched the man’s eyes snap to her shoes then reached behind her head for the clip holding her chignon in place, releasing it. Her hair fell in waves to just below her shoulders, and Faith swung it around, fluffing it with her hands. The man stood.
“What are you doing?” His voice was rough, scraping across her skin to leave delicious abrasions behind. No longer pretending, her breaths came in raspy gasps.
“Subduing the enemy without fighting.” Faith spoke to herself more than the man, but he seemed to hear anyway. She always turned to Sun Tzu when she was in danger. Eli had ingrained it in her. Sun Tzu knew everything.
He moved closer, gliding, with the grace of a predator, and Faith saw she was in some serious trouble.
His sensuous mouth quirked into a smirk. “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.” Laughter filled his voice, and she saw amusement twinkle in his eyes, crinkling around the edges.
Shit. He knew Sun Tzu too. Undeterred, she continued, using her sexuality as a tool. She pursed her lips and forced a breathy quality to her voice. “To avoid what is strong, strike at what is weak.” His silver eyes penetrated into her, looking deep inside her. She felt naked under his gaze as it traveled across her face. She was so intent on those eyes that she didn’t realize his hands had moved.
A knuckle grazed her cleavage, and she lost her breath. She inhaled deeply, trying to get much needed oxygen into her system, but it only served to raise her breasts higher, into his touch. It burned. The humming in her body was louder than ever as if it was connected to this man’s presence. She could feel it in her bones, her cells.
The man’s perfect face lowered closer to hers until their mouths aligned but didn’t touch. She could feel his warm breath on her lips as they moved. “The expert in the battle moves the enemy and is not moved by him.”
He hadn’t moved to subdue her, but neither had she. Faith was paralyzed by a sudden lust coursing through her veins. With all of her being, she wanted to grab this man and smash her lips into his, feel that little scrub of hair on his chin against hers.
With every ounce of will she had, Faith turned away from him, back towards the safe in the wall. She could only hope to get out of here without police involvement at this point. “The wise warrior avoids the battle.” She heard rustling behind her, and when he spoke next, she realized he’d moved back to the chair.
“I can see it.” He spoke as if to himself, murmuring so quietly she almost didn’t hear. “We’d make a decent match. You’re almost as irreverent as I am. And you know your Tzu.”
Without a word she slipped her hand back under her skirt again and retrieved her multipurpose tool. She’d have to come back, but she wasn’t going to let this asshole get what was hers. Doing her best to replace the faceplate in a hurry, she left the wall safe a ridiculous mess, not having taken anything from it. Super. She could hear him muttering behind her about thieves and Jezebels and tamped down the flash of irritation that flared to life.
“I work alone.”
“For now.” He chuckled as she darted out the door and back downstairs. She didn’t dare glance back.
He’s never been given a choice in this prison of fate, but it’s his turn now.
Hell is about to meet his match. When Damien gets a woman, the only underworld he’s ever known changes. She’s chosen for him, but she’s enough…
Cynthia doesn’t believe in Hell; she believes in kindness and science, and the greater good. She’s perfect, and pure and…
But she’s his.
And he’ll move Heaven and Hell to keep her.
This is Anne Conley’s final installment in the Four Winds series.
“Oh God…” she murmured under her breath.
“Are you alright? Do you need the hospital?” He knew what was happening to her, and it was probably embarrassing to her, but he was turned on beyond belief, and it was something he’d never felt before. Sure, he’d indulged in carnal pleasures with women before, but this was something completely different.
“Yes… No… Oh God…” He steered her out of the restaurant, and as soon as they made it out the door, Cynthia pushed him against a wall. “Stupid tumor…” she moaned as she threaded her fingers around his neck, pulled his head down, and crashed her lips against Damien’s.
The feel of her lips on his took his breath away. The soft heat of her tiny little tongue as it swept inside his mouth with a whimper caused him to lose all semblance of control. He didn’t know what came over him, but he had to have this woman. Now.
His hands immediately grasped her ass and spun her around so she was against the wall. He lifted one of her legs, wrapping it around his hip, and ground his erection into the warmth separated from him by their clothes. He’d never felt anything like this lust before. He needed her with a burning fire that he wasn’t sure one night with this creature could douse.
She responded, pressing against him wantonly. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and the prickly pain made him groan. He pushed the vision, knowing the image of them in her bed—a mass of sweaty tangled limbs—was undoing her, the same way his mental fondling was.
The same way it was undoing him. A torrent of lust wracked his body, and he fairly shook with it. He wanted her. Right here.
Damien so wanted to do some real-life fondling, to sink his fingers inside her wet heat and feel her pulse around him, but some conscious thought told him that wouldn’t do. Not on the first date. He knew enough about good women to know that wouldn’t further his purpose with Cynthia.
She was whimpering into his mouth, and he swallowed the sounds eagerly. He continued his grinding, building her to heights he couldn’t even imagine. His own erection was painful, but he held back doing anything to relieve it, knowing this was for her. He selfishly wanted to show her what they’d be like together.
She flew apart in his arms—on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant—with a muffled cry which he devoured with his kisses. He could kiss her forever, he realized. As she came down from her climax, he slowly lowered her but didn’t stop kissing her, wanting her with every fiber of his being.
When she pushed him away, a sinking feeling flooded him, dousing the fire with disappointment.
“Um… I’m sorry.” She was straightening her hair and smoothing her pants, refusing to look at him.
“Don’t be.” He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, so he cradled her face with his palm, thinking that may be a classy way to reassure her.
“I have to be. That was really embarrassing.” Her eyes darted around to see if anyone had seen them, but he chucked her chin with a finger.
“It was beautiful, Cynthia.” Beautiful wasn’t the word for it. It was magnificent, celestial. She glowed with an inner light that nothing could extinguish, better than any fantasy he could conjure.
As usual, her voice came out husky and choked when she tried to speak to him. “I’ll see you first thing Monday morning. Promise. But I can’t talk about this now.” She motioned to Emily, and Evan nodded but didn’t move. Jeez, he was so close.
They made small talk, and Paige actually found herself flirting with him a little, relaxing, while the line moved at a snail’s pace to the haunted house. She found out Travis was a neighbor whose parents traveled a lot. Evan also told her things she already knew: he had a brother in the Marines, his parents had retired to Montana to raise horses, lots of superficial stuff. She told him about her father taking her to haunted houses when she was a kid while her scaredy cat sister had stayed home with Mom. She mentioned her parents were dead, but didn’t give the details.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Dressed casually, he reminded her of the first time they’d met. He wore a black t-shirt and worn jeans along with the oldest pair of Converse she’d ever seen. His hair was mussed, as if he’d spent a long day at work, running his hands through it like a crazed man. With her constant avoidance of him, he probably had. A pang of remorse hit her hard. She hadn’t made this easy for him. It was time for her to step up and take responsibility. She’d hired him to do a job, and she needed to get over her school-girl crush and help him.
But it was really hard with him staring at her like that.
She could always blame the teenagers for her inappropriate thoughts. They were walking, talking, flirting hormones on legs. By the time they’d made it to the door, Travis had Emily’s phone number and they’d already made a date and were holding hands. She was positive that if she and Evan hadn’t been there they’d be making out. The teenagers that is, not them. Even though she’d relaxed quite a bit, her heart was still letting her know he was standing awfully close to her.
They went in like a train, with Travis volunteering to lead. Emily hung on to his belt loops followed by Paige. Bringing up the rear, one of Evan’s hands dropped protectively to her back. She ignored the warmth trickling through her t-shirt at the contact. Her heart pounded and her hands were clammy, but it wasn’t because of the fog, or the spooky lighting, or the clanging noises, or the zombies jumping out. It was all Evan Rocco, holding onto her.
As far as haunted houses went, this one was disappointing, or maybe she just couldn’t get into it with Evan’s breath on her neck, his hand at her waist, or his other hand snaking around her torso. The further inside they went, the closer they got. Travis was at the front of the line, jumping with every zombie clown that popped out, giving her ample warning of spooky things ahead. By the halfway point, Evan’s arms were around her torso, with her own hands clutching him while they walked in sync together, his hot breath on her neck warming her insides
At one particularly dark corner, Evan yanked her backward into an alcove, pushing her into the darkness. He leaned his forehead on hers while his forearms leaned on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in, keeping her from bolting.
“You have any idea how many times I’ve thought of this since April?” His body crowded her into the tiny, dark space while his minty breath sent her senses reeling.
“Haunted houses?” she offered weakly before his mouth met hers.
It was suddenly as if the puzzle piece she lost six months ago had been put back into place, and she melted into him as his tongue triumphed over the recesses of her mouth. He growled, a predatory rumble emanating from his chest that reminded her of that night last April, and she whimpered against him as he hauled her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
His tongue danced with hers, twining around inside her mouth while his hands roamed her body, cupping her ass. She twirled her fingers in his hair, bringing his mouth closer, fusing it with hers, unwilling to break this kiss which was rapidly undoing her—mind, body, and soul.
As her fingertips clutched desperately at his biceps, she marveled at how someone who was every bit as geeky as she was could be so fucking beautiful, because Evan Rocco was a seriously beautiful man. And this kiss was feral, something wild, causing her to throw caution to the wind and go with it for as long as it lasted.
Evan broke the kiss, leaning his forehead on hers again, his dark brown eyes consuming her. “Paige,” he breathed out ragged gulps of air. “What the fuck is happening?”