"Destiny's Favor" (Orlosian Warriors Bk. 2)
Coming this Spring!
His world
shifted the moment she was born. Now, nothing can stop him from making her his.
Imagine meeting
a man who looks like an angel, wings and all? What would you do if this man
told you he existed with only one purpose – to claim you and only you?
Destiny
Carter is a feisty, take charge, Rubinesque beauty with a tough façade, who
finds herself in that age old quandary, “always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” A
string of lackluster relationships leave her hopeless and ready to settle…Until
she meets Japheth, the man her fiancé claims is his best friend! Japheth’s
arrival is heralded by an attack on Destiny’s life, and instinctively, she knows
this is just the beginning.
Born
more than 200 years ago, Japheth looks like an angel but he’s far from it. In his
world, the ratio of men to women is 500 to 1, and although he’s a superior
being, he’s willing to break the most sacred law of his brothers, even drink
human blood, to have one meant for him alone. When he meets Destiny, he knows
she’s the one he’s been searching for. To claim her, he will have to betray a
friend, risk his life, and hardest of all, humble himself enough to win her
love.
Exhaustion began to affect his mood, and Japheth gathered his
limited store of energy in preparation for survival mode. Neither angel nor
demon, but somewhere in between by virtue of his misbegotten birth, he had
managed to survive outside his dimension for more than twenty years. Reliance
on human blood served as a constant reminder of the invisible chains that bound
him.
“Vacationing? Or do you have family here?”
Frowning slightly, Japheth answered again,
his patience waning along with his constitution. “No. Visiting an old friend.”
The man chuckled, obviously good-natured
even if he was too friendly for
Japheth’s taste, and Japheth couldn’t help smiling in turn.
Japheth stifled a groan when the elderly man
looked up at him again, eyes wide as if suddenly realizing something.
“Strapping young fella. What are you, six
seven? Basketball player?”
“I’m six five, and no.”
“If you ask me, son, you don’t look old
enough yourself to have any old
friends. Now take me for instance…”
The friendly stranger launched into a long
story filled with memories from his past while Japheth’s thoughts drifted,
catching a detail here and there, just enough to respond appropriately.
The
elderly man had no idea; Japheth was old enough to be the ancestor of his
ancestors. Twenty years seeking this female - one woman - the only one capable
of ending his lonely, desolate existence, and he had finally found her. Japheth
arched his spine, quelling the fire crackling along his nerves in response to
her siren’s call to him.
Japheth considered the humans around him - particularly
the women - recalling his time in Egypt, Zurich, Somalia, Paris, Zimbabwe,
Morocco, even Rome; searching, always searching, studying, and gathering
information. The woman directly behind him slept, her blonde hair splayed
across the chest of the man beside her, her soft snores evidence of trust, another
read a book, its cover made of aged leather, worn from regular handling, and
another two whispered among themselves.
The two whispering women sat across the
aisle and three seats back, giggling and nodding periodically. Of course, he
heard every minute movement, every word they said as clearly as if they were
speaking directly to him, no matter how softly they spoke. He even recognized
their queries, observations, and theories about him, hoping his soul mate would
express the same level of interest. Beautiful, each one in her own way, but
none of them stirred the least bit of interest beyond providing a pastime.
He grew more restless by the minute as the
bus rolled forward at a slow, steady pace, wishing he could pinpoint her exact
location and simply transport there. Japheth smiled at the elderly man again, then
turned to gaze out the window, following the irregular line of cypress trees
blanketed by heavy fog as they finally entered the city. The unique beauty of
this place would always draw his gaze and remind him that the One God must
indeed still see all, but he couldn’t help frowning at the reminder.
This human world was so unlike his own,
Orlos, literally the brink of hell. How could his desire for this woman be so
wrong, and why did he long for the love of a God who had condemned his entire
race to a slow, desolate death following a long life devoid of love or affection?
After managing to stay one step ahead of the
Seekers, elite Orlosian warriors promoted to wayfaring law enforcement, as
likely to kill as imprison defectors, here he sat, a defector led by primitive
instincts to break the most sacred law of his brothers, and drawn by a sense of
urgency possibly perpetuated by desperation, to return to this medium-sized
city in the United States. A sitting duck, as humans liked to say.
If the Seekers found him here, he would have no defense, but none of this changed his plans. If she was here, this female whose spirit had called to him first more than 20 years before - and he felt her in his marrow - finding her was worth everything.
My cover is in the works. Can't wait to share it with you!
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