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Saturday, May 3, 2014

PREPARE FOR THE SECOND COMING! (Or at least the coming of the second book in this series...)

I am so proud to announce that my new release, Jude: The Fallen is now available!
Let's take a moment and properly appreciate those feathers, shall we?

The Fallen Series continues with 'Jude', a paranormal romance/urban fantasy that fans of the Black Dagger Brotherhood will enjoy. When the big angel meets the intrepid archaeologist, Coriander, more than just sparks fly. But even struggling to get closer to the fiery redhead will be easy compared to the danger that strikes at the heart of the angels. Will he be able to overcome it? Or will he be forever...fallen?


Jude followed behind Coriander, the glow of her flashlight adding more light to their path as it mixed with the interspersed torches on the walls. She ducked into a side alcove and pulled him inside, her breath catching as the beam of the flashlight hit the edge of a large object in the center of the room.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked.
“Don’t tell me this creeps you out?” she snorted as her eyes scanned the hieroglyphics on the walls. “But yes, this is a tomb.”
“Wonderful. Anybody I know?” he quipped.
“I don’t think so,” Coriander snapped. “Unless you’re long lost pen pals with Setepenre.”
He heard the eye roll in her huff of escaped breath as she examined the wall further. “Setepenre. One of Akhenaten’s daughters, sister to Meketaten.” Coriander turned to face him. “She died before her sister, so most likely we need to go further in.”
Jude glanced at the object. “And is that, you know, her?” He gestured at the sarcophagus.
“Doubtful,” she replied. “The body is probably long gone, but yeah,” she squinted at the rectangular stone tomb, “that looks like it could be hers.”
“Think there’s anything useful inside?” Jude curled his hands on the edge of the sarcophagus, ready to push it open.
"Don't!" Coriander cried. "Don't open it! You'll-"
"What?" he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Please don't tell me you were going to use the word 'desecrate' in reference to me." The big angel smirked. "Please."
Her face scrunched up, disgruntled. "Fine. But can't you bless it first or something?"
"I'm not the Pope, Coriander. Water is the extent of my purview." Jude glanced down at the hieroglyphics carved into the lid. "And I don't think this chick is Catholic." Ignoring the squeak of protest from Coriander, Jude pushed against the lid, and it groaned with the friction of stone on stone as it moved.
“Jude,” she warned. “This is not a good idea.”
He grunted and put his back into it, shoving harder. “What do you mean? I thought this would be right up your alley.” Sweat beaded on his forehead and he grinned at her. “Isn’t this what you do?”
Her hands planted on her hips and she frowned. “No!” she shouted. “I mean, yes, but not like this! You don’t know what could happen when you touch-“
A louder creak of moving stone made her head snap up and her face go white. Jude paid no attention to the fluttering of her hands as she tried to stop him, and pushed the lid off the top by a few inches, enough for a smattering of dust to waft up from the interior.
“Jude,” she said again, her voice more insistent.
“Hang on, I’ve almost got it off.”
“What?” he snapped, straightening.
“Oh, you idiot!” she cried, grabbing at him and running for the opening, which was swiftly closing behind the appearance of a hidden door.
Coriander pulled her fingers back just in time before it shut with a loud thud, trapping them inside. She whirled around on him with a murderous glare. “You feather-brained moron! Look what you’ve done!”
He swallowed sheepishly. “Sorry.”
She closed her eyes for a second and drew in a calming breath.
“I really am sorry.”
“I know. It’s fine,” she said, tapping her finger on her cheek. “Give me a second. I need to think.”
The horror of the situation finally dawned on him, and a tiny flutter of panic settled in his throat. Coriander, on the other hand, had relaxed, all traces of her earlier ire gone, her features set in concentration.
“Oh, God,” he groaned as his eyes darted around the room. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
“Unclench, sunshine.”
“We're trapped in a tomb, Coriander! How can you be this calm?” Jude bellowed.
She gave him a bright smile and knelt down, digging though her bag. “Happens to me all the time. No big deal, we'll around it. I'm sure you've been in worse scrapes before.” She waved her hand, blowing him off. “Fiery demons and the whole twelve circles of hell are a lot more complicated than the tomb of a lesser known Egyptian princess, I'm sure.”
“Nine,” he frowned. “It's nine, and I would rather be taking tea in any of them than sitting here on my ass while you try to MacGyver us out of this with a roll of duct tape and some incense!” Jude rubbed a defeated hand over his face and rolled his eyes skyward. “Why do you do this to me?”
Coriander's bright smile widened. “Because, big guy, some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue. And with a butt like that,” she said, smirking at his rear, “expect some shit. Besides, I told you not to touch it.”

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