ISBN (eBook): TBA
Release Date: Dec 1, 2013
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For a Fallen that has nothing but time, it is suddenly against him. And now he has to be the good guy? Damn.
“SILK ROAD is an entertaining urban fantasy romance that promises to captivate readers as good, evil, and something in between converge in a real page turner from beginning to end.” ~~R. Barri Flowers, bestselling Harlequin author of MURDER IN HONOLULU and MURDER IN MAUI
Silk Road caught my attention and kept me on my toes through every chapter. There were a few times in the beginning when I thought “I know what is happening … I see where this is going” and…well I was wrong. This was not an accurate assumption. I think I assumed in the beginning that everything was transparent and expected, just because the story seemed so natural. Silk Road twisted and turned flawlessly. ~Annie S., Booked and Loaded Reviews
This is Larien and Jayla’s story but there were so many other characters introduced in this first book that she had me wondering how she was going to really keep the story moving with so many Angels written into the story line. But, keep it moving, she did. She had me guessing with every turn of the page. ~Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews
The following morning Larien awoke to a sleep-warmed, delicious smelling woman tucked against his body. He nuzzled Jayla’s neck as he whispered against her skin. “God, I could kiss you all night.”
He felt her smile against his skin where she nibbled him right back. “You did kiss me all night. Time to get up already?” She yawned, but looked bright and ready for the day.
They should both be tired as dogs who’d been hunting for two days without a break. But Larien noticed that Jayla charged him up somehow. He mentally added the whole “energy thing” to his list of questions for Gabriel when he delivered his next status report.
“Speaking of getting up in the morning,” he said as he rolled her beneath him yet again, “I forgot to tell you that Talan said you’re all healed now and it’s okay for you to travel. I went ahead and updated our train reservations. We leave day after tomorrow.”
“What? When did this happen?”
“He told me last night.”
“Where is Talan?”
“Sleeping on the couch.”
“Wait. Did you say day after tomorrow?” She was out of bed so fast he tumbled off to the side, caught completely off guard. She stood, fists jammed into her hips. The skimpy spaghetti-strapped camisole left nothing to the imagination. And he could imagine quite a bit now that she’d had those pretty breasts pressed against his body. They were a little more than a handful, soft with puffy nipples that became stiff cocoa buds and…
“Larien! Stop ogling my boobs already. I can’t be ready in two days. I haven’t done laundry in forever, more accurately, since the unhealthy incident at the hands of a no good winter Fallen demon. And given you haven’t let me lift a finger since I was injured I don’t even want to know what my house looks like with you and Talan taking care of everything. Oh my God, I have a news piece due to my editor. Shit!”
“Are you insinuating that I’m messy?”
“Out of all that, all you got was that I think you’re messy? Hey, I’m the one that’s been out of commission for weeks.” A sharp index finger pinned him in the chest. Damn. That almost hurt. “You don’t get to make this about you. Then again, it is about you and you not bothering to ask me if I can be ready to go in barely forty eight hours.”
“Ask? For what? Anything you need, I can get or fashion for you.”
“Ask for what? For what?”
Was she turning colors?
He rose and gently stroked his hand down her spine to calm her. That earned him her back and an elbow in the ribs as she walked away, grabbed a robe off the little bench at the end of her bed and practically ripped a sleeve off as she jammed her arm through it.
“Can you clean my house with a sweep of your hand, too, then?”
Larien was at a loss. Sure he’d had plenty of experience with women but nothing like the spitfire glaring daggers at him just now.
“Jayla, are you angry?”
“Answer my question, damn it,” she snapped.
“No, I cannot clean your house with a wave of my hand. I am a warring angel, not Harry Potter.”
“Didn’t think so. And for the record, making decisions for me when I’m perfectly capable of making them myself falls firmly into the assholery department, damn it. And Talan told me that you two have been sharing dinner duty. I don’t know about you, but I can guarantee Talan hasn’t washed a dish since he’s been here! Goddamn men! Think you know every damn thing in the whole damn world and—”
He should have pretended to miss out on the rest as she stomped out of the room and down the hall. Soon her words were accompanied by various banging and slamming of pots, pans, and what sounded like the stove and dishwasher.
So much for spending the morning kissing in bed.
“Talan, get in here and help me,” she yelled from the kitchen, and then grumbled, “Before I break something…like a plate over your bonehead. Talan! Wake up.” Followed by a splash, a yowl and a sputter in what sounded like old Gaelic. But it didn’t keep Larien from laughing as he fashioned some clothes and moved toward the racket with a shake of his head.