November is always a crazy month for me. In addition to Thanksgiving, my birthday is in November. I was married in November, on election day, in Arkansas, when Clinton was running. THAT was a particularly crazy day. A few years ago, I discovered NaNoWriMo and November took another hit. This year, all the insanity took an extra hit when I volunteered to be a panel member at a self-publishing program. I’m really bad at the public speaker thing, by the way. I keep volunteering to do it but I don’t seem to be getting any better.
Overall, November is the worst month possible to have a book release, but I managed to have two. On the same day. With the same publisher.
Cue frantic activity.
But this book bears a bit of poignancy, makes me want to hold on and slow things down just a bit. It’s the final book in the series and, although I was anxious to put the writing part behind me, I’m finding it a little hard to say goodbye to the angels I’ve come to know so well.
Maybe I shouldn’t call it my last book. Maybe I should just say I’m moving to something different and leave my Heavenly Lovers just there, off to the side and ready to welcome me back into their world.
For now, all of my angels have found their loves, the ones they can love throughout eternity. I think that is an excellent way to say goodbye.
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An Excerpt From: EMBRACING ETERNITY
Copyright © VOIREY LINGER, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
“Come with me, Meela,” he said again, and a tingle of trepidation crept down her spine.
No, he couldn’t take her. She’d be a prisoner.
Panic hit and she shoved at him, taking another swipe at his face. His arms fell free as he dodged the venom-tipped points. She stumbled. Her shoulder hit the wall and she fell back into the corner, held upright by the aging plaster and trapped off balance by the angel before her.
What did angels do to their captives? Was it anything like what they suffered at the hands of demons?
An image of the last angel held prisoner by demons came to her.
Renatus. He’d once been a friend, a lover, and she’d been the one who’d worked to lead him astray. Because of her he’d been trapped, a prisoner of Lucifer and his minions.
The basest of Hell’s creatures had fed on him, left him broken and bleeding, his feathers ripped from his wings as they devoured his flesh. They’d taken him as close to death as an angel could go, only to leave him in agony while his power returned and his body restored itself.
Then they fed again.
And so had she.
She’d known then that she’d pay for her sins.
“Let me go.” Her tremulous voice transformed the demand to a plea.
“Come with me,” he said yet again, this time stepping close until his feet were between hers and his wings pressed the walls on either side of her. He sheltered them, captured her.
A willing prisoner? She thought not.
Meela raised her clawed hands once more and swung, aiming for his eyes.
She never touched him. Before she even saw him move, he had her wrists shackled by his hands, pinned to the plaster on either side of her head. He leaned in, pressing her body more securely to the wall.
Bucking, she tried to knock him away but only succeeded in throwing herself more off kilter and slipped farther down the wall.
He wasn’t a tall seraph, but being in the corner as she was put her at a disadvantage. Even with her heeled boots, her eyes were only at his collar.
Still, she fought him. Struggling to wrestle him, she pushed against him with her entire body. Grappling silently, frantically, for an opening, for escape.
With a hiss and a groan, he moved in closer, until they were pressed together from knee to chest.
She stared up at him, wide-eyed, her hands relaxing in his grasp.
Well, well. It seemed Heaven’s most untouchable seraph wasn’t so aloof after all.
Evan was hard.
She barely had time to process the feel of his erection pressing into her stomach before his mouth covered hers. Warmth flooded her, chasing away the chill of winter with the heat of arousal. It sizzled though her veins, electrifying her senses until her skin prickled and her toes curled.
Before her Fall, sex had been nothing more than a game, a fun way to spend time. She’d frolicked at some point with most of the seraphs in Heaven.
But never Evan, though he would have been willing. He was always too serious and she had wanted to play.
After she and the damned third left Heaven, sex became a survival skill. Sex was traded for bits of power, for moments free from hunger and pain. Wanting had ceased to play a part in whom she fucked.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had welcomed the feel of a body against hers, how long it had been since she truly yearned for the touch of another.
But now, she wanted.
A whimper escaped her and she tipped her head to the side, opening her mouth to welcome him inside. His tongue slipped past her lips, licking at her with gentle, almost innocent strokes.
Her body’s response was anything but innocent. She cursed the clothing separating them. If only she was stronger, she’d make the fabric vanish so they could be skin to skin.
She arched, trying to grind against him, to create friction with that deliciously hard cock burning against her belly. To urge Evan to move down and press that hot length against her core.
She needed this. The hunger, the satisfaction, the insanity of a hard fuck. It was as shocking in its intensity as it was in its source.
What was it humans said about the quiet ones?
Then Evan’s kiss became something different, something wholly unexpected. Sustenance and strength, the very essence of life, his power hit her, full force. Verdant and lush, it filled her starved body, taking away the gnawing hunger and replacing it with rich satisfaction.
The angel was feeding the demon.
Her body grew heavy and ached with arousal. She tried to move closer, to cling to him, but he held her firmly pinned to the wall. All she could do was accept his kiss, his gift.
To her frustration, he didn’t move either. He didn’t pull her closer, didn’t rub his cock against her. Despite her best efforts to fuel his lust, he simply let his lips and tongue caress hers as he restored her.
Did he not want her?
Perhaps he didn’t. The exchange of power was often arousing. That hard cock could mean nothing. Simply a byproduct of his fattening her up for whatever awaited her on the other side of the Pearly Gates.
That thought was enough to tamp down her wayward arousal. She’d allowed herself to forget, for the barest of moments, that they were enemies. That sex wasn’t about pleasure and angels were not to be trusted.
She twisted her head, forcing his mouth from hers. The crystalline cold of the winter air hit her a split second before she took her new power and vanished from his arms.