Have you ever experienced one of those moments when something happens, and it’s like an explosion-and your life as you know it changes forever? That’s what happens in my latest release, FALLEN ANGEL. And unlike so many books about fallen angels, the angel this time is my heroine….maybe. More about her later…but let’s talk about my hero, Declan Byrne. In fact, let’s talk to him.
Eden/Eve: Declan, thanks for dropping by the Smutketeers blog to talk about your story. Why don’t we begin by telling our readers a little about you? Your job, your dog, who I adore…your father…
Declan: My father? You know I don’t like to talk about him. Haven’t since we lost my mother. And that new girlfriend of his, Ruth Hehewuti. Dad may be ready to date again, but I’m not ready. It makes losing mom too real. Do I have a resentment? Damn, right I do. But Dad’s the reason why I left, joined the military. How I ended up in the Middle East…Okay, enough of that shit. Dad’s also part of the reason why I moved back to Mendocino and became a forest ranger after all that. I hate to admit it, but I was following in the old man’s footsteps, I guess. And I need the solitude of the Mendocino Coast after what I saw over there…what I went through.
My dog—that’s another story. Liam is a mastiff, and they don’t come more loyal. He’s my best friend. I know people say that about dogs, but in Liam’s case it’s true. Angel would say the same. That dog loves her almost more than he loves me. But that’s okay. She needs him. Maybe almost as much as I need her…
Eden/Eve: It seems there’s no way to talk about this story without touching on hard topics.
Declan: Yeah. It’s okay. Angel has taught me that.
Eden/Eve: Let’s talk more about the woman you love.
Declan: Angel? She really is an angel, fallen from heaven. Even after what those people did to her-her whole God damn life! Unbelievable what she went through, the things she endured. And she came out of it still whole. Almost untouched. I don’t understand how that’s even possible. Ruth has her theories, and maybe some of it makes sense. All I know is that Angel saved me as much as I saved her. And I will love her and protect her until the day I die. I swear it.
* * *
Take a sneak peek now at of FALLEN ANGEL:
He would move heaven and earth to protect her
Was she heaven-sent…or more heartbreak waiting to happen?
Haunted by a military mission that ended in personal tragedy, Declan Byrne still bears a soldier’s scars. As a park ranger on the secluded Mendocino coast, he guards his heart while standing ready for anything. Anything except a beautiful, ethereal woman with a mysterious past, falling from the cliffs to the rocks below.
Angel, as Declan decides to call her, has no memory of what happened. But as her body heals, disturbing dreams emerge. In Declan’s protective care, Angel feels safe to act on the undeniable passion between them, without the threats from old, unnameable demons. And, in time, she senses Declan needs her as desperately as she needs him. But when her past returns with a vengeance, Declan must decide just how much he’s willing to risk in order to keep the woman he loves safe.
* * *
OPENING EXCERPT:
Mist swirled around his feet, obscuring the hard-packed sand as Declan Byrne took his morning walk down the rugged beach. The sun was just beginning to rise, a faint amber glow casting the first golden rays of the day, barely touching the cresting waves of the Pacific Ocean. He loved it there, loved to come when it was still nearly dark, picking his way over the craggy rocks, the piles of driftwood and seaweed, the empty sound of the thundering ocean soothing him.
Liam, his enormous black mastiff, trotted beside him, his only company. Declan preferred it that way. He reveled in the loneliness, the isolation of this place. It was a big part of why he’d come back here six years earlier. He’d needed the quiet. He’d needed to heal. Maybe he still did.
Abby…
No, don’t think about her now.
Don’t think about her, period.
He turned instead to the sea, watched as Liam chased the edge of the incoming waves, sniffing, backing away as the water surged onto the sand. This was their daily ritual. How Declan got his head on straight before beginning work, before he had to interact with other people, something he’d been lousy at the last few years. He much preferred his dog, the ocean, the rough and lonely Mendocino coastline, to people.
His work as a forest ranger didn’t require much human contact. This particular job included making sure trails were cleared, keeping order in the campgrounds, the occasional lost hiker, and sometimes training new rangers. But mostly, it was just him and the forest, the lone stretches of beach and rugged cliffs that made up the National Park’s coastline. Probably the biggest reason why he’d taken the job. That, and something about his father having worked in this area as a ranger most of his life, up until he’d retired a couple of years ago.
Following in the old man’s footsteps, no matter how he felt about him. But this place was home to him. His gruff father was home to him, even though they’d barely spoken since his mother died.
Don’t think about that, either.
The sun was coming up fast, warming the damp air as he and Liam climbed over the rocks to the next crescent of sand. Declan stopped and looked out to sea, tracking the rising sun, the surge of the gray and green water, and felt that brief moment of peace he sought each day. He breathed in the sharp salt air, filling his lungs. Watched as a lone gull flew in low over the water on silent wings, skimming the surface beyond the waves. Peace here, yes. He didn’t want to stop to consider why he needed it so desperately.
A hard thump behind him; shocking, how loud it was,how it made the ground shake. Declan spun around, his heart hammering while Liam went off, barking like crazy.
A woman lying on the sand before him. He nearly tripped over her in the half-dark, had to dig his heels into the rocky beach to steady himself. The crashing of the cold surf faded into the background as he tried to grasp what he was seeing. Liam had stopped barking and was sniffing her limp body, his huge black head dwarfing her.
He grabbed for the mastiff’s collar. “Liam, off!”
What the hell?
She was naked, bleeding, one leg caught on the rocks, twisted at an impossible angle. His brain shifted into high gear as he bent over her, adrenalin swamping his veins in a hot, speedy current.
Where the hell had she come from? Must have fallen from the cliffs. He looked up, peering through the pale light, his gaze wandering up the ragged cliff side, but he saw nothing, no one.
“Jesus,” he muttered as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.
As the phone rang his gaze roamed her body, trying to assess the damage in the diffused light of the rising sun. Pale, waving blonde hair down to her knees. There were strange symbols painted all over her: her stomach, her thighs, across her bare breasts. They were lush and round, he couldn’t help but notice, then cursed himself. The woman was half dead, for God’s sake. He leaned in closer, trying to find out if she was breathing. He didn’t want to touch her. No, he wanted to touch her. He didn’t dare.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
There. A small, gasping breath rattling in her chest.
Thank God.
An operator finally answered the phone, and he quickly told the man who he was, gave him details, his location.
He hung up to wait for the rescue team, finally dared to reach out and lay his fingertips on her wrist to check her pulse. Bones like a bird, isn’t that what the saying was? She was so delicate…
She was alive, her breath shallow, but she was taking one after another. There was blood everywhere; he could smell it even over the tangy ocean scent in the air, but beneath the mess he could see a lovely, angelic face. Hard to tell how old she was. Late teens? Early twenties? Closer inspection showed him bits of twigs—herbs, maybe?—and small bones woven into her hair. On her upturned palms were pentagrams painted in red.
Who the fuck would have done something like this?
Liam was standing next to him, over the girl, peering into her face as though he were trying to figure it out, too.
He’d never seen anything like it. He never wanted to again.
He fought back the sense of horror that made bile rise, made his throat want to close up.
So much blood…
* * * * * * * * *
And just so you can see that this book is as hot and sensual as it is emotional…and maybe because it’s time to introduce you to the true fallen angel in this book, the demon Asmodeus. This is an excerpt you’ll see only here. Of course, there are plenty of lush sex scenes between Angel and Declan-but you’ll have to follow my blog tour to get a peek.
Here are my blog & interview dates and locations-there are prizes and excerpts on each of them!
June 19: Lauren Dane’s blog, Demon Lover Books& More, The Nine Naughty Novelists, Day Dreaming blog, Scorching Book Reviews, Under the Covers Book Blog and The Book Tart.
June 20: Guilty Pleasures, Pearl’s World of Romance, In Love With Romance, Book Obsessed Chicks, My Overstuffed Bookshelf , My Secret Romance, The Forbidden Bookshelf and Romancing Rakes for the Love of Romance.
June 21: Roni Loren’s blog
* * * * * * * * *
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:
She didn’t want to do it, but she called on the only one who was familiar to her.
“Asmodeus!”
“I am here.”
Relief flooded through her at the sound of his voice. Then his heat enveloped her and she saw the golden glow that often preceded him. Just a clear, gleaming light that seemed to come from his hair and his body, cut through only by the burning, bottomless black of his eyes. More beautiful and deadly than a snake.
“Asmodeus, where am I?”
“You are here, with me.” His voice was a deep, soothing echo, one she could never quite catch and hang onto. But it wrapped around like a full-body caress.
“But…I remember choosing.”
“Yes. You chose.”
“Yet here you are, anyway. With me again.”
“My loyalty is astounding.”
She hung her head, her hair falling around her face, covering her naked breasts. “More so than my own. There are reasons why I’ve been rejected by the Dark God.”
She looked up, and the demon nodded, his black gaze on hers.
“Is this to be my punishment?”
“Being with me is a punishment? I have guided you, taught you. Loved you.”
“No, I…I meant to be in this nowhere place. To feel such pain.”
“I am with you. As always.”
“Asmodeus…”
She was full of sadness. Full of fear.
“I would comfort you, little one. I would put my arms around you. But you are untouchable.”
“Even now? Now that my body is no longer sacred?”
“I did not say your body was not still sacred, still consecrated.”
“Yet you cannot touch me.”
His voice was low, seductive. “I would touch you in the way I always have.”
“Yes, Asmodeus.”
She took a step toward him, absorbing the fiery heat of his body, the hard shell gleaming with desire, his dark golden cock rising.
“Tell me what you desire, my beauty.”
“To be touched,” she answered, as she so often had.
“I will tell you how I would touch you, how you would touch me.”
“Yes…”
Already her sex was plumping, filling, her breasts aching.
The demon’s hand began a slow stroking motion, up his rigid shaft, down again. He was pure beauty, her demon lover. His hard skin was like polished gold, impossibly smooth. And his hair was pale, pale silk, the long strands floating weightlessly about his broad shoulders, his perfect face. But at this moment, nothing was more beautiful to her than his hand on his cock, the flawless instrument of pleasure that was ever denied her. His long fingers brushed at the swollen head, and her mouth watered.
“I would put my lips there, Asmodeus, and taste you,” she told him while the heat built in her system, scorching her with need.
“Yes. And I would wrap my hands in your long hair, wrap it around and around my fist, holding you tight, pushing my flesh down your lovely throat.”
“And you would be sweet on my tongue…”
“Show me how I would touch you while you sucked me, beauty.”
“Oh…”
Her hands went to her breasts, teasing the nipples. They went hard as two stones immediately. But she needed more. With one hand she parted the lips to her sex, looked up at Asmodeus as pleasure seeped into her system, warming her all over.
“The perfect pearl,” the demon told her. “I would taste you, as well.” His tongue darted out, the luscious pink tip running over his full lips. “I would drink from you, my tongue pushing into you, suckling your clitoris. You would grow hard in my mouth.”
“Yes…”
She used her other hand to tease at her entrance, to tug on her clitoris. She watched as he stroked his thick member, the head going darker, like burnished copper. With his other hand he smoothed his fingertips over one of his dark, bronze nipples.
“You would put your lovely mouth on me here,” he told her.. “And here.” He arched his hips into his fisted hand..
“I want you, Asmodeus.”
“As always, my beauty.” He pumped into his fist, faster and faster. His eyes burned like the darkest coal, brighter with his pleasure. “Spread your pretty thighs for me, little one. Press onto that needy nub of flesh, rub at the entrance to your tight, virgin center with your fingers. Yes. Beautiful.”
She did as he told her, her fingers teasing, pushing in the slightest bit, then slipping out again. With her other hand she circled her clitoris, hard and aching and needing release.
Their hips arched together, into the cool air that separated them, and always would. And as the demon’s gaze burned red, then blue with fire, his roar reverberated in her body as he came. The roaring made her tremble inside, with need, with fear. Like some deep, unearthly vibration, bringing her closer to the edge.
Asmodeus was still roaring, his voice hurting her ears, her head. The ache grew, fanned out, enveloping her. But this was no sharp stab of desire, no exquisite release. It was pain and pain and pain. Drowning her.
She gasped, her hands going to her head, trying to hold it still in the screaming light blinding her eyes, numbing her mind. She couldn’t see, didn’t know where she was.
Was Asmodeus still with her? She didn’t know.
* * * * * * * * *
CONTEST! It wouldn’t be the Smutketeers without a contest, so here we go:
Let’s talk about some of the themes in FALLEN ANGEL. My hero Declan is ex-military, and as a forest ranger he still spends his time in uniform. What is it about a man in uniform that gets your blood pumping? That makes you feel safe? –OR—Tell me here which you find more enticing: an angel or a demon. You can think in terms of heroes or heroines-what draws you into a storyline?
PRIZES! I’ll award two prizes on the Friday June 22nd, so be sure to check back to see if you’ve won!
Prize Package #1:
E-Copies of two of my contemporary erotic novellas from my Celestial Seductions series: WINTER SOLSTICE & SUMMER SOLSTICE
Prize Package #2:
E-Copies of the first two books in my erotic Midnight Playground vampire series: THE SEEKING KISS & BLOODSONG
All you have to do to be entered to win is post here talking about one of the topic discussions listed above-easy!
You can buy FALLEN ANGEL now in print or digital formats at Amazon B&N Powell’s Chapters.Ca Books-a-Million IndieBound and other bookstores and online outlets!
Despite her better judgment, she leaned slightly to see who stood on the other side of the door when Donovan opened it. A huge man filled the empty space. Black cotton stretched across his chest and skimmed his long torso until it disappeared behind the belted waist of olive cargo pants. Thick dreadlocks twisted around his shoulders and fell to his waist. He stepped into the room and dominated the office with his presence. Dessa’s mouth went dry. Him. She gripped the arms of her chair and curled her toes against the insoles of her slippers, trying to ground herself to the floor. Her body tightened in alarm as she met his eyes, clear and bright as good whisky. He remembered her. The flare of his pupils told her as much. Twelve years and he hadn’t changed a bit. Donovan was her boogey man but this man was her…what? Savior? Fantasy lover? Killer? All at once, in some dreams.
Sesha inhaled and released the breath, the remnants of her fear exiting with it. She rounded the desk, aware of the way Ven stiffened when she neared him. He didn’t move beyond that mark of tension. Slowly, she brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips. He flinched and rocked his weight forward, balling his hands into fists, white-knuckled as they pressed against the leather-bound portfolio. Sesha crowded him. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, unable to complete a full circle with her fingers, and swept her palm up his forearm. His muscles bunched beneath her touch. She squeezed, pricked his skin with her fingernails, and raised her eyes to find he’d turned his head toward her.
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