Release date: January 12, 2015
A loyal soldier of the Garden of Eden, Anahita is faced with a daunting mission: to slay the three imprisoned immortals who ate from the Tree of Eternal Life. But her Temptation is among these immortals, and once she lays eyes on him, her spirit wars with the Compulsion to both kill and protect him.
After close to nine years of imprisonment and torture, Max Wright is scarred both inside and out. His only driving force is to protect himself and his fellow prisoners from further harm. When a beautiful angel appears in his cell, he’s inexplicably drawn to her, and desire burns between them. Yet, he fears that succumbing to his passion will only lead to ruin.
But rebellion is brewing among the angels, and shocking betrayals have dire consequences. Can Max and Ana protect their hearts and their eternal love?
Sensuality Level: Sensual
An excerpt from Of Alliance and Rebellion:
Anahita, one of the cherubim and instrument of the Most High, was nervous. She knew the emotion well despite the fact she was supposed to be completely emotionless. Anahita felt as though she spent a good deal of her existence wallowing in the forbidden feeling.
Though currently invisible to the human eye, she still leaned back into the cool stone façade of the makeshift prison as a human guard walked around the corner. Her heart thundered when the human passed close enough to touch, and Anahita allowed herself the small creature comfort of placing an open palm over her chest to try to calm it. No other angels were around, so the small gesture of weakness would not be witnessed by those who held her to the high standards of her kind.
The same heart that thundered beneath her palm jerked a little in the direction of the cell behind her.
She could feel him.
It was so much stronger than she had anticipated, this link to her Temptation. This close to the man she should avoid at all costs, her taboo feelings were … intense.
Anahita’s head sank back to the stone wall, her blond waves snagging against the rough, porous surface and pulling slightly. Why—oh, why—did her first official death mission, the mission she’d fought so hard to be given, have to involve him? Was it a test?
Of course it is a test.
“I will carry out my mission,” she whispered as she willed her still-thundering heart to slow. When the traitorous organ failed to comply, Anahita jerked her hand from its resting place between her breasts so she could no longer feel it. She did not have the flaming sword needed to kill the immortals, but she needed to strike now or she risked losing control of her Compulsion. She would capture them, and once they were in her keeping, she would attain the weapon.
With a quick inhalation of air, Anahita closed her eyes and focused to sink through the wall and into the cell that held her targets. The cool night breeze faded, and she knew she’d made it into the cell. Keeping her invisibility fixed, Anahita turned and cracked her lids open.
The immortals’ cell was cold, and not just in temperature. The complete lack of hope, the pain, the scent of unwashed male—all combined to create the coldest environment Anahita had ever encountered. Her right hand moved up to cup her left bicep in an attempt to generate warmth.
To her right, a man with vivid red hair that not even dirt could dim sat huddled over another man with blond hair and a beautiful face knotted in agony. The face contorted even more, and the man’s body twisted on a dingy cot, his mouth opening in the silent scream of an infant who’d cried hard enough to lose his air.
As she watched, the man’s chest convulsed with a great gulp of oxygen, and when next he opened his mouth, the scream was no longer silent. The pain was so vivid it caused Anahita to take a stunned step back, her wings hitting the unforgiving stone of the cell’s corner.
The red-headed man shivered and hugged himself, feelings of impotence pouring off of him in tangible waves. But it was the sound of a strangled groan that snagged Anahita’s attention.
At the opposite end of the cell, Anahita could barely make out the broad shoulders of the third man. The man that was hers.
No. She shook her head, dislodging the errant thought. Not her man; he was her Temptation. And she would do well to remember that.