Linda's Literary Lair! Books for the intelligent, sexy, and curious.
As he neared her door, he reached inside his suit jacket. Like a magician pulling a chainsaw from a top hat, the former angel drew a pistol the size of Valerie’s forearm.Valerie raised an eyebrow. Or he could be the universe’s stupidest assassin.She assessed her situation.Him: Older, meaner, with the advantage of calling high-powered backup.Her: Pregnant, tired, hungry, pissed-off, and trapped in a small enclosed space.The odds were bad.Just the way she liked it.
His lack of originality told Valerie that this was not one of the Fallen who had chosen to ride the Wheel to redemption. He had remained loyal to Lucifer. In short, Lucifer’s cannon fodder. His slow ramble toward her dilapidated room did not reveal any danger. He might be insipid, but he also might be good for a laugh.The dusty gravel cracked and rolled under his feet. His suit rubbed against itself, the expensive fabric shushing in a pleasing fashion. He was making sure she knew he was there. If he’d been coming to kill her, he would have materialized in her room and destroyed her as she lay resting.As the Fallen neared her door, his innately chaotic nature tugged at her already-sensitive nipples. Paranormal beings had been created to keep the Fallen company. Perhaps this one came to provide solace for her heartbroken state, one lost creature to another. She wouldn’t love him, but at least they would understand each other.Besides, she had heard the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else. She doubted it, though. Since the 1400s, Valerie had bared herself to only two lovers: her wife, Ilona, and then Lance. Each of them had destroyed her, freezing her emotions with devastating regret and fear.Sadly, she set aside any thoughts of a distracting seduction.
