The Dragon In The Garden by @Erika_Gardner #magic #sorcery #dragons @cw1985

Everyday and Not-so Everyday Magic & Miracles

I am a big believer in miracles and magic. Yes, I write about fantabulous things, magical creatures and wondrous sorcery, but I see quieter magic all around us. People can do great things on a daily basis. The power of a hug, the comfort of prayer, and the outcome of a sympathetic ear all have a ripple effect upon the world at large. One person holds a door for another, then that second person picks up something someone dropped, the third subsequently compliments a friend on something and so on. The positive vibes flow, changing each person’s day for the better.

It’s no less special than the stuff in my books though it’s easier to miss the power of a kind word than a dragon appearing in the sky before your disbelieving eyes. And on that note, I’d like to share exactly that. This is an excerpt from my new novel The Dragon in The Garden. This is Daisy the dragon coming home. Please enjoy.

***

“Siobhan,” Turel said. The intensity of his tone caught my ear, and I turned to him. He lingered a few feet away from me, his eyes fixed serenely on a point far away.

I joined him, my eyes on the horizon. The setting sun painted the sky a vivid seascape of blues, pinks, violets and oranges. As the sun lowered to the lowest point in the sky, in the instant before its rays spilled over the back of the world, there shone a beam of concentrated light, as precise as a laser. After a second, the light expanded, becoming a brilliant, white ray. It continued to grow, morphing into a tunnel in reverse, but instead of darkness, it blazed a corridor of light. The white light became prismatic, flickering with a rainbow of dancing diamond sparkles, splashing colors of all hues in front of my dazzled eyes.

 Turel enclosed one of my hands in his warm grasp. “It is something to see, yes?” His tone reflected true awe.

 “Is this your first time seeing this?” I asked in a whisper. The tunnel became larger, dwarfing us. With my free hand I shielded my eyes. Leia sat at my side, gazing in the distance.

“No, I have seen this many times.” He held out his other hand and waved it at the mighty light show. “But a miracle is no less glorious for having previously happened.”

 To my left Tim and Alex continued their ridiculous rock throwing competition. Their stones sailed right through the expanding brilliance they could not see. “Guys, are you kidding me?” In the emotion of the moment, my voice growled, low and hoarse.

They stopped and gave me matching blank expressions. “What?” Alex said.

“Hey, what are you guys staring at?” Tim sounded defensive.

Before I could answer their questions, I heard it. A sweet sound, soft at first, barely a whisper, carried on the breeze. Turel’s smile grew even brighter, matching the shining portal. “She comes.” His eyes shone as they met mine.

Alex glanced this way and that. “Does anyone hear that sound?” he asked.

Tim craned his head. “I hear it. It sounds like bells.”

“Wind chimes,” I corrected, still staring straight ahead. “It’s wind chimes.” The air shimmered. Light danced in an intense aurora borealis. Patterns of colors streaked and swooped in a heavenly painting. One hue dominated the others. The deep shade of jade green spread. An enormous form took shape, dressing itself in swathes of color. The huge outline solidified: graceful wings, a serpentine neck, and a curving tail. Two amber lights appeared like jewels in the viridian air. Everything intensified, heightening each of my senses; the lights pulsed. A beautiful, green dragon hovered in the air. With two mighty beats of her massive wings, she crested then landed behind us. I ran forward with a cry. “Daisy.”

“Damn it,” growled Tim. “I can’t see anything even a bit like a dragon.”

“Unless it’s a super little one,” said Alex, his face downcast.

Turel laughed— a big, belly laugh full of joy. “Gwyrdd, you sly minx, show them. Drop the glamour and let our friends see you.”

Daisy twisted her head to one side in a coquettish gesture and in that voice I had never forgotten said, “Certainly, Turiel, dear one.” Suppressed mirth laced her tone. “How’s this, children?”

When she spoke these last words the music of wind chimes came again, louder this time. As their bright notes sounded around us, I saw the precise instant when both my brother and my first love, the two who believed in me all these years, finally saw my dragon.

To purchase The Dragon in The Garden please see:

http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Gardner_Erika/the-dragon-in-the-garden.htm

To find Erika Online please check out:

https://erikagardner.com/

Twitter- @Erika_Gardner

Instagram- TheErikaGardner

FB- https://www.facebook.com/Erika-Gardner-Author-423796817705288/

This post was written by Erika Gardner. She’s a native Californian, lifelong lover of fantastical adventures, and a dedicated Whovian.  If you enjoyed it, please sign up to receive updates on www.erikagardner.com   Or you can follow Erika on Twitter @Erika_Gardner, “Like” her Facebook page Erika Gardner- Writer and Storyteller. Or check out her contributions to the BBB Blog.

Energize Your Life by @drdelmillers #BlogTour

Energize Your Life! By: Del Millers, PhD

BLURB

Are you suffering from a personal energy crisis?Are you constantly running through your day, feeling chronically exhausted? Are you desperately overcommitted? Do you find yourself sacrificing your health, family time and quality of life just to meet the never-ending demands on your time? Are you exhausted when you go to bed at night and still tired when you awake? If the answer is yes to any of the above questions, then you may be suffering from a personal energy crisis. Unfortunately, this way of living — and working — not only robs us of our health and puts a strain on time and energy resources, it blocks our access to our most essential sources of energy, leaving us feeling physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. In his new book, Energize Your Life, Dr. Del shows you simple things you can do everyday to fuel your life and work with positive energy. Drawing from his years of experience consulting with executives, entrepreneurs, small business owners, career changers and self re-inventors, as well as the wealth of new research over the past two decades on positive psychology, employee engagement and play, Dr. Del demonstrates how you can program the brain — and the subconscious — for productive, beneficial action. Energize Your Life is different from other positive energy books and personal energy management programs. Its unique advantage is that it shows you how to fuel your life and work with positive energy from seven distinct sources. And why is it important to increase your daily dose of positive energy? Well, several studies have clearly demonstrated that chronic stress and negative energy shuts down the creative problem solving brain, slows your productivity and puts you in fight or flight mode where very little gets done. Energize Your Life will challenge and inspire you to develop a personal action plan to fuel your life and work with positive energy everyday. Thereby, improving your personal well being, enhancing your work engagement, and helping you feel more alive.

PURCHASE

Amazon / Barnes & Noble

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR Dr. Del Millers is the founder of TheBestYouAcademy.com, EnergizedLifeAcademy.com, and author of eight books on nutrition, fitness, and personal growth. A PhD Nutritionist with a Masters degree in psychology, Dr. Del teaches simple mind-body principles to busy entrepreneurs and professionals to help them energize their lifestyle, improve their personal wellbeing, and enhance their work engagement. Dr. Del has appeared on FOX Television (Good Day LA), E-Entertainment TV (DR 90210), numerous nationally syndicated radio shows, and in magazines, and newspapers throughout the United States and Australia (LA Sports & Fitness, Australian Ironman, Health & Fitness, Stuff, Fighting Fat and others). Dr. Del’s greatest passion is sharing what inspires him with others. He lives in Los Angeles, California with his wife and three daughters. Buy any of Dr. Del’s books and forward your receipt to gifts@delmillers.com for Dr. Del’s special bonuses worth hundreds of dollars. Subscribe to Dr. Del’s weekly podcast at http://www.energizeyourlifepodcast.com

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

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#RPBP #TeaserTuesday with Crimson Moon by @pt_macias & @MatternPatricia #excerpt

Crimson Moon: Throne Of Shadows 

(Shadowrealm Secrets Book 1) Kindle Edition

by P.T. Macias (Author), P. Mattern

About The Book

In the undulating purple mists of a parallel step realm to Earth lies the kingdom of Shadowrealm. It's noble leaders, the royal House of O’ Oasis, are pledged to protect the earth and its inhabitants.

The night of the crimson moon, Tsar Fredrick O’Oasis is brutally murdered. Shadowrealm lost their Tsar, but his son Alexsander assumes the throne as the Tsar and rightful ruler. Enraged, his younger brother Prince Omar O’Oasis makes a pact with the Dark Amy forces led by the notorious Prime Vice Dark. He has promised his allies and minions the demon born Chupalmas the spoils of the Earthrealm.

Tsar Alexander’s mission is clear, and he travels to Earth to turn away the murderous tide of the invaders, and in the process encounters the one woman on earth destined to bring him to his knees and claim his soul: Nicolette. Beautiful, educated and desperate to solve the mystery surrounding the murderous rampage, she is unaware of having the dangerous target on her back or that she possesses the magic to fight the Dark Forces that seek to enslave her.

A tug of war ensues: Nicolette refuses to recognize her connection with Tsar Alexander, the Chupalmas are closing in, and time is running out.

. . . . . . will Tsar Alexander be the EARTH SAVIOR?

Teaser Tuesday Excerpt

Crimson Moon
Shadowrealm Secrets Series
Copyright © 2016 By P. T. Macias, P. Mattern

At the end of the corridor outside, two immense golden moons shine their beams into the torch lit corridor. The Tsar’s private chambers are located at the end of the long corridor. The sound of night birds calls, along with the chant of crickets, serenade him into a deep sleep. The guard sits outside Tsar Frederic’s bedroom door. His head bobs as he nods off.
The silent figure, the Dark Minion Pox, keeps to the shadows that appear along the opposite wall, and pays rapt attention to the guard. When he’s satisfied that the guard is asleep, he quickly reaches out a long, curved talon, and slits his throat. There’s a muffled thud as the guard’s body hits the floor, a momentary gurgling sound, and then silence. Even the crickets stop chirping.
The well-oiled door to the Tsar’s chambers opens silently inward. There’re two huge candles on high wrought iron standing along the sides of the Tsar’s bed. The Dark Prime quickly draws the energy from them, causing the flames to flicker, and then go out.
Some things are best done in the dark. Murder is one of them.
The dark prime creature walks stealthily into the room and looks down at the handsome sleeping monarch. Frederick is still a regal and handsome figure. His beard and hair are flecked with silver, his eyes are closed, and he breathes the deep satisfying sleep of Tsars.
The Dark Prime minion, Pox, inhales all of the oxygen out of the room at once, and Tsar Frederick awakens gasping, his hands at his throat, as he looks up into the terrible and distorted face of the creature. The creature’s eyes are black soulless holes. Its sneering, twisted lips grimace in a wicked smile. Its double rows of deadly sharp teeth shine like ivory needles in the moon ray of the twin moons.
Pox takes no time to strike Tsar Frederick in his bed. He stealthily inflicts the deathly blow, to send him to his death without ever uttering a sound.
The Tsar’s death looks on the surface to be a natural one, but the Dark minion reaches down, and rips the Tsar’s night shirt open. He uses the same talon with the guard’s blood on it to carve a symbol into the Tsar’s chest.
The distinctive symbol shows the Sanskrit symbol for hell: a swastika with four dots on each quadrant. It is the symbol of the Chupalmas, and the creature smiles again as he examines his handiwork.
Tsar Frederick is dead.

Buy the book today for 99cents on Amazon!

See what else PT Macias has available:

http://www.rukiapublishing.com/book-showcase-pt-macias.html

JACK'S MAGICAL BEANSTALK series by @PabloMichaels1 #RPBP #gay #erotica

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Release Day Blitz! The Case of The Dead Dowager by @JudithLucci! #RPBP #ASMSG #Thriller

Retired homicide detective Michaela McPherson and the aging Countess Dorothy Borghase team up again—this time to match wits with two serial killers stalking children, women and the elderly.
When Dottie Borghase's friend Camilla Rothrock collapses at a lunch gathering of old friends, the countess's only concern is to dial 911 for help. But Camilla's subsequent death has authorities buzzing about international safety and retaliation, because her son is decorated U.S. Army General Stuart Rothrock.

As other restaurant patrons in Richmond meet similar fates, Michaela and Dottie join forces with the Richmond Police and the FBI to track down the pair of heinous murderers. But in order to catch the killers, they will put their own lives and the lives of others in in serious jeopardy.What Price Must a City Pay to Keep its Citizen's Safe?

Book link: http://bit.ly/GetCaseofDowager

How about an excerpt:
Dottie turned off the main highway and headed south to Blackstone Virginia. Madame Toulescent lived just outside of Blackstone and that's where she conducted her psychic readings. She wished away the butterflies that cramped her stomach. She had a sense that what she was going to hear wasn’t good. She wished she didn't believe in the value of psychics or the unknown but she did, and that was that. She’d seen psychic readings and prophecies come true time after time during her life. Mic wasn’t a believer at all but had grudgingly admitted psychics had helped them in a case about ten years ago.

The speedometer on her car registered over sixty miles an hour on a forty-five mile limit stretch of highway. I'd better slow down. The last thing I need is a Virginia state trooper on my tail. She braked and her car skidded but she handled it skillfully. The Cadillac was a big, monster car but she really liked it. Since Dottie had lived in the US, she had always preferred German-made cars and previously owned multiple Mercedes Benz. Of course, when Count Borghase had been alive, they’d always driven Italian cars, mainly Ferraris. But now she was pretty much American and she loved her Caddy. There was something about the Cadillac that was so plush and so American that she bought a new one every couple of years.

She saw an old gray mule in the pasture out of the corner of her eye and saw the fence that was lying on the side. Dottie didn’t know what she’d do if they ever repaired that fence. She’d been looking at that fence on the ground for years and it was her landmark just before she turned onto Madame’s private road. She knew her turn was just up ahead. She slowed for a farmer carrying a load of hay in an old truck. He was hogging the entire road. Now where in the hell am I supposed to go? She steered her big car to the side of the road as far as she could without falling into the ditch. She cursed and held her breath as the farmer passed her. She swore the farmer missed her by less than an inch. The old codger hadn't even looked her way. She shook her head and cursed again softly. She threw her white Caddy into first gear and roared out of the ditch spewing gravel, dirt, and mud all over the road. She saw three rabbits running for their life and hoped she hadn’t interrupted their nest. Dottie drove a little further and made her left turn. She turned right on the first road and started the difficult trip along the horrible, rutted road to Madame Toulescent’s tiny home. The road was almost a mile long. Dottie's tall, thin frame bounced all over her plush leather seat and her hair fell out of her neatly arranged bun. I'm going to have to take a pain pill. All this jumping around is killing my hips. Secretly Dottie new she needed to have her hips replaced but there was no way she was willing to do that, at least not while she could walk. I wouldn't be able to help Michaela. And then, what would she do?

Madame Toulescent waved at Dottie from her front porch filled with flowers and beautiful hanging baskets of petunias and begonias. Her small white cottage was immaculate. Madame Toulescent watched her painstakingly steer her huge Cadillac down her battered road. Dottie brought the iron beast to a stop, looked in her rearview mirror and re-pinned a piece of white hair that had worked its way out of her perfect updo. Even though the Madame lived in a house that was little better than a house trailer, Dottie had been trained from birth to always look perfect when visiting. This task had become monumental at age 82. She reached for her purse and checked to make sure her Glock was nestled in its special pocket. She checked her lipstick in the mirror, pinched her lips together, cursed the fine lines around her mouth and got out of the car.

"Hello Madame Toulescent. Thank you for seeing me today on short notice." Dorothy smiled her gracious smile at the psychic, showing her beautiful white veneers, once available for a large price from the famous, dentist-to-the-stars Dr. Michael Smirkowitz.

"You are so welcome, Countess Borghase." Madame Toulescent looked around the empty fields and through the trees and gestured with her arm. "As you can see, there is no waiting line. Please come in. I've made us some tea." She paused for a moment and said, "Watch the steps. They're in need of repair," she cautioned.

In need of repair, my butt, they need to be rebuilt Dottie climbed the rickety steps dodging rusty nails and wood splinters. She grasped the loose railing and posts that held up the old front porch. The last thing she wanted to do was fall and break something. She followed Madame Toulescent into her small but neat and cozy home. There was a wonderful scent in the air and Dottie’s mouth watered.

"Please have a seat in the easy chair," the Madame offered. "I'll bring us some tea and sweet bread."

Dottie nodded and smiled her thanks as she carefully studied Madame Toulescent. She wasn't sure of her nationality. She thought she was Eastern European but she seemed very much like the French and her house had several amazing pieces of French country furniture. In years past, she had asked the Madame about her former life, but the psychic seemed unwilling to share her past. Her voice had a strange accent Dottie couldn't identify which frustrated her. Dottie had traveled the world and she knew the languages and dialects of most ethnic populations. But she couldn't figure out Madame Toulescent’s origins. That puzzled her.

Madame handed Dottie a cup of herb tea. The aroma alerted her senses and she immediately felt more awake and inspired. The tea had given her energy and awareness. She took a sip. It was delicious.

"Oh my, Madame Toulescent. Whatever is in this tea? I feel a million times better just from smelling it. You’ve got to tell me where you got it because I know Cookie would love it too," Dottie gushed as she sipped her tea.

Madame Toulescent smiled and said. "I made the tea. It's a blend of ginger, mint, lemon verbena and a few other things I grow in my herb garden. I'll send some home with you. It's sweetened with honey I collected from my bees yesterday." She smiled briefly, and her lips stretched over teeth that could benefit from a cosmetic dentist. "That's probably what you love so much."

Dottie nodded and studied the Madame. The years hadn't treated her so well. Dottie didn't know her age but her face was a mass of wrinkles that blended one into the other. Dottie guessed each wrinkle had its own story. Her skin appeared soft but deeply creased. Her jet black hair was streaked with gray and hung freely past her shoulders. She wore a simple blue shift with a silver belt and wore tennis shoes and socks. She smelled of lemon and freesia.

Dottie, as usual, smelled of Chanel #5. "It's so lovely out here, Madame. Do you ever come to town?"

Madame Toulescent shook her head. "Very rarely. My neighbor collects my groceries for me when I need them and as you know, I have a huge vegetable garden and I can and freeze most everything I need. I like it here and I like to stay with my animals - my dogs, cats, cow, mules and horses. It's quiet here and my love is nature."

Dottie nodded. She couldn't imagine staying in these four walls every single day. She supposed she didn't have the patience and gentleness of spirit that the Madame had. But that was okay. Dottie was very happy in her own way.

The two women shared a comfortable silence and continued to sip their tea until the Madame asked, "How can I help you today, Countess?" She smiled at her and said, "I can tell you have some significant things on your mind and that you are troubled."

Dottie put her teacup down and said, "Yes, I do. Have you been watching the news?" Dottie saw the woman pale under her sun-darkened skin.

Madame Toulescent nodded. "You’re here about the poisonings, aren't you?"

Dottie held Madame’s dark eyes with her own and said, "Yes, I am. Camilla Rothrock was one of my dearest friends and I need to know who poisoned her."

Madame shifted her gaze to the floor and said, "Countess Borghase, this is a very bad business that is happening. I've had some visions and they are upsetting. It reminds me of the evil work of Hitler in Germany."

This time it was Dottie who paled, her heart beating so hard she could hardly breathe. "Oh my God, Madame. We both remember his devastation in Europe and the millions of people he murdered."

Madame Toulescent rubbed her hands together, her face grim. "Indeed we do. A sad and sorry time. Let's move into the back where I work and see what we can see."

Dottie stood and followed Madame to the room in the far back of her modest home. It was a glass room with beautiful views into the forest. She left her teacup on the coffee table. Her heart thumped dangerously in her chest and she was short of breath. She was so terrified she almost lost her balance. She gripped her purse and cell phone in her hand. She was scared and just the idea of having the Glock made her feel safer. Could the evil be so strong it permeated her soul?

“Countess, why are you so upset? What can I do to help you?” Madame Toulescent looked at Dottie with concern.

Dottie stared at her but her eyes said it all.

“Let me get you something to calm you down so we can have a good reading. Please stay in the chair and I’ll be right back,” Madame Toulescent said as she left Dottie and walked to her kitchen.
Want To Read More? Read Chapter 35 here!

Intimate and fascinating, cleverly told-Prunes For Breakfast by John Searancke @OfficialPrunes #RPBP

I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and aren't to wore out from your Black Friday Shopping! 

We have some exciting news for you!
The bestselling memoir, 'Prunes For Breakfast' by John Searancke has been deeply discounted in eBook format!
You can get your copy today for £1.99/$1.99!
Here's a little about the book!

‘Many years after the deaths of my parents, my aunt handed me a box filled with letters that my father had written to my mother over the period from 1940 to 1945. This was the starting point of a journey for me to rediscover the father I had never really known...’

This is the story of John Searancke’s parents, told mostly from the side of his father, Eddie Searancke, from the time of his calling up in early 1940 to his release from a prisoner of war camp in Germany in 1945, thence his return to England to try to pick up the pieces of his old life. Nothing could ever be quite the same afterwards.

The letters take readers through five captivating years, telling of the ups and downs, the plots and counterplots, as Eddie rose through the ranks to end his war as a captain, elevated to that rank in the field as his troops faced the formidable might of the SS Panzers. The letters also reveal where his battle came to an abrupt end, in an orchard surrounded by the enemy and captured after a series of bloody skirmishes as the British army spearheaded its way from the beaches of Normandy. The journey as a prisoner across France and Germany in a truck, with comrades dying each day, may be as hard to read as it is to tell, particularly when a new life and new harsh rules had to be learned and rigidly enforced in a prison camp in northern Germany, the final destination.

This is written as part memoir, part fictionalised retelling and partly in letter format; John draws together all sources to recreate the five years of war and hardship that the letters span.

Not sure if this is a book you would enjoy? Read what others have said and decide for yourself.

5.0 out of 5 stars Intimate and fascinating.
Prunes for Breakfast was one of those books that lurked in the 'unread' section of my kindle, waiting for a time that I could give my full attention to a subject that deserves nothing less. If I'm totally honest, I probably wouldn't ordinarily purchase a book about war (definitely more my brother's cup of tea), but I enjoyed John Searanke's previous book - Dog Days in the Fortunate Islands so much, that when Amazon suggested that I might like Prunes for Breakfast, I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and clicked on 'Buy now'.
Did I enjoy it? Without any doubt, yes I did. It was an intimate and fascinating account of one man's WW2, cleverly told through a bunch of letters written by the author's father to his young wife. I even found myself paying attention to the Notes on Military References, important to read if you want a real understanding of the numbers of men who went into battle.
Thank you John Searanke for sharing your father's war with us. We really do owe his generation an enormous debt of gratitude. By the way, if my husband had a prolonged absence from home, and returned for a weekend, he too would arrive with his golf clubs!


5.0 out of 5 stars A fascinating wartime read.
I am not normally a lover of war-based books, but I was attracted by the title and decided to read it anyway. I’m so glad I did. For me it is as much a study of social history as it is a story about one man’s experiences in World War 2.

Prunes for Breakfast focuses on the experiences of the author’s father, Eddie, when he signs up to join his local reserve regiment in the 1940s. What immediately sets it apart from many others on the subject is that much of the story is told through letters sent by Eddie to his wife. Letters that were so important at the time for the recipient, and which have been cherished and faithfully preserved.

I was fascinated by his commentary on day-to-day activities as the regiment wait for the call-up, some of which seemed humdrum and therefore challenging in their own way. But it doesn’t last forever. They starkly contrast to the horrors of war, which are then related in a very different way to protect his wife from the harsh reality of the situation. Latterly his capture and incarceration in a prison camp lends yet another dimension to his wartime experiences.

Without doubt I would recommend this book to anyone who has a special interest in World War 2 and the social history that surrounds it. The intimacy of the letters, in particular, gives the reader a direct insight of how one serviceman coped with being apart from his new wife, and latterly child. That, coupled with John Searancke’s excellent, clear writing style, makes this a compelling read.


5.0 out of 5 stars Intriguing
This book is an extremely interesting look into one mans life during his service in WWII. It was unlike any other book that I've read and found it fascinating. I became immersed in Mr. Searanckes life and learned so much about the war from his point of view. Highly recommended.

Don't wait! This sale won't last long. Get your copy here!
£1.99/$1.99 Time is Limited!!

books2read.com/Prunes4Breakfast

Please leave your indie authors a review and share the joy of reading with others!

Have you entered our giveaway yet? Now is your chance to enter to win! We have 3 fabulous prizes to giveaway!

Enter today and share it with your friends and family too!

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Thanks for stopping by and good luck in the giveaway!!
Margaret & Sarah Jane

#TeaserTuesday from @pt_macias with Angels Of The Fallen : 'Lucifer' Book Four #excerpt #preorder #eBook #RPBP

Who's Your Favorite Fallen Angel?

 

Coming On 12.25.16

books2read.com/Lucifer

Two For Tuesday Teaser!

Excerpt #1

The fiery pit of hell erupts, shooting scorching crimson flames up through the different stations of hell.

Sofiel stops halfway down the ramp to glare at Lucifer. She squares her shoulders and tosses her long dark hair over her shoulders. Her glowing light gray eyes narrow and she lifts her chin up squaring her shoulders.

“I’m here to do my job! I’m not here to see you! I’m glad that you’re still here paying for your insolence!”

Lucifer laughs out loud at Sofiel.

“You’re a complete fool! Yeah, I paid for my imprudence.”

“I’m not the fool Lucifer! You think very highly of yourself! That’s the problem with you! That’s what gets you in trouble, isn't? I’m not here for you!”

Lucifer stands tall with his right hand on his silver sword. His bicep flexes as he moves, and he stands straight with his feet spread wide. He grips the silver sword, beautifully embellished with precious jewels that glow as he moves. The silver bracers, embossed with an intricate pattern, emphasis his muscular forearms.

Lucifer is a handsome man with dark black hair. His beard is trimmed to enhance his square jawline. His nose is straight, and he has sexy, full, sensual red lips. His beautiful bright blue eyes glow with his inner power, shining brightly.

The expensive black slacks fit him perfectly snug accentuating his wide shirtless shoulders. The hot flames cast a soft glow on his golden skin. The soft black curls cover his chest, tapering down to disappear below his pants. He looks sexy, dangerous, and beautiful.
Lucifer narrows his bright blue eyes and raises his eyebrow.

"I suggest that you stop looking for me, Sofiel."

Excerpt #2

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Lucifer deep thunderous voice booms out as he walks down the ramp. The fiery fire pit flares shooting fire balls up the stations of hell.

Sofiel stops, moves back against the black limestone wall watching the fireballs. She then turns to look over at Luc raising trembling hands to push back her long dark black hair. She tucks some locks behind her ears. She then moves away from the wall and walks over to Lucifer.

“Angel Lucifer, I’m here to see how you’re doing. I was worried about you.”

Lucifer gazes down at her and shakes his head crossing his arms.

“Angel Sofiel, this place is not for the likes of you. You need to return to the heavens before your tainted! You need to return before someone notices that you’re gone. The time in the heavens and earth are different. The time on earth passes swiftly.”

Sofiel takes a step closer and grasps her hands tight to stop from trembling. Her huge light gray eyes glow and the silver specks flash brightly. She slowly smiles up at him tilting her head to the right.

“Angel Lucifer, I’m lost without you in the lecture hall. Gabriel doesn’t have time to teach me. I. . . .I . . miss. . . . .you.”

Luc shakes his head, glares at her, and looks away. He clenches his jaw, the muscle twitches from the intense pressure that he’s inflicting, and narrows his eyes to look at the fiery pit.

“Angel Sofiel, return to your station. Stop calling me Angel Lucifer! I’m not an Angel!”

Lucifer turns to look at her, his brilliant blue eyes glow, and his silver specks flash with the beat of his racing heart.

Get Your Copy of Book Four of 

The Watchers' Series. 

Angels Of The Fallen: Lucifer 

books2read.com/Lucifer

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