Azrael’s Light is now available for pre-order at Bookstrand.com The release date is set for July 4th but here is a little excerpt to tide you over 😉
Oh damn, this was bad. What was Azrael, a Runner, doing in her club? If he thought he was going take hers or any of her patrons’ lives with him, he was going to be seriously disappointed. The club may only be a microscopic pinpoint in the universe, but it was hers alone. She dared anyone to cause trouble in her home.
It was a rare occurrence for any of the few remaining Runners to be seen in their physical form here on Earth. Appointed by the elder gods, Runners worked similar to the humans’ police forces. Each title came with its own duties. For some the position was a punishment, and for others it became an honor.
As a Soul Runner, it was Azrael’s duty to escort souls of the dead to their final resting place, making his visible presence even more disturbing. Yes, he spent much of his time on Earth, but he never had time to frequent human establishments. Everyone knew that as the world’s population grew, so had the time it required for him to do his job. He was in constant travel between Heaven, the different levels of Hell, Purgatory, and many of the other religions’ domains. His presence here in her club was more than likely not a social call.
He stood there looking every bit the part of an avenging angel. Six and a half feet tall with unbelievably broad shoulders and a curtain of raven-dark hair that fell to his waist. The red-tipped ends flirted with his trim waist and thick, muscular thighs. Dressed in black leather pants, shit-kicker boots, and leather trench coat, he looked like the very definition of decadence.
The only feature more arresting than his jaw-dropping physique was his face. A sharply sloped jawline, pale, arching cheekbones, and the most delicious set of lips she’d ever seen acted like a siren’s song with their dangerous lure. With their subtle glow, his striking eyes reminded her of the finest burgundy wine.
His stiff, no-nonsense posture barked “stay out of my way or you’ll be flattened.” She forced herself to pretend ignorance of who and what he was and face him head-on. She reminded herself he was in her territory now.
“What’s your pleasure? Beer? Whiskey? You name it, I have it.” She could see the lights of his eyes wavering between her mouth and her breasts. It figured. Whether she was on Earth or in Unearth, all males had the same thing on their minds.
“No. I’m here looking for a girl.”
She couldn’t help but arch one eyebrow at his statement and pointedly look at the myriad of half-naked women filling the club.
“Ha-ha. No, I’m looking for a runaway rumored to frequent here. She looks about eighteen, is about five and a half feet tall, has black and purple hair, and facial piercings. Have you seen her?”
Shocked, angry rage boiled in her veins as realization dawned. The bastard was searching for her niece. There was no doubt in her mind at all. What did he want with her? He couldn’t be here for her soul, could he? How did she find out the reason why without letting him know who she was? She’d help him find Alia over her dead body.
“We have a very strict policy forbidding entry of minors into the club. ID’s are ruthlessly checked and re-checked. If she’s a minor, you won’t find her here. Is she yours? Do you have a picture?” There were no pictures of Lucifer’s daughter. Luc would have a fit of epic proportions. He may be a fierce bastard on even the best of days, but he was still a loving and doting father. Alia was a daddy’s girl through and through. Love for his only daughter knew no limits.
Her sister Lilith may be selfish and borderline crazy, but she’d go into a full-blown psychotic rage if she knew there was a threat to her daughter. Her wrath could eclipse even Luc’s.
“No, no I don’t have a picture. I’m helping a frie—” He gagged. “A friend look for her daughter. Are you sure you haven’t seen anyone who fits the description?” She restrained a victorious fist-pump when he’d choked on the word “friend.” Maybe her sister was hard at work troublemaking again? Probably. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had been suckered into cleaning up one of her messes.
The only other possible option would mean Alia was marked for death. Until she knew what was happening, there was no way she was pointing Azrael in Alia’s direction. It was time to send him on his way, and out of her club.
“I already said I don’t cater to minors, ever. I have other customers waiting. Do you want a drink or not?”
“She’s actually much older than she looks and is not as innocent as she appears. My friend is really worried about her.”
She pointedly looked at the exit doors of the club and not so politely repeated herself. “Do you want a drink or not?”
He gave her a silent glare capable of making full-grown battle-demons shake in their hooves. Even if he wasn’t fooled by her refusal to cooperate, she refused to back down. He wasn’t going anywhere near Alia until she knew what was going on.
His soft-looking lips firmed into a hard line. His arched brows flattened, and if possible, he stood even straighter as he glared down. That was just too bad for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. This was her territory and she planned to keep it that way.
Oh, hell no! What was it Alia had said about a Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome? Be nice to him, she would love him? Either her niece was mistaken or she’d gone crazy. There was no way she’d fall in love with a Runner, let alone the head Soul Runner!