Sequel to Hope in Love.
Uriel,
angel of repentance, wants Morta, the one woman he cannot possess. She is the
Fate who holds power over life and death. A brief fling with her is not enough.
He needs more than a warm body to extinguish the flames of desire—he needs to
have all of her, body and soul.
Morta has burned
for Uriel for centuries. But it can never be. She is forbidden to align herself
with anyone, especially an angel. After a few fevered nights in Uri’s arms, she
knows there will be no repenting for her sin. Morta cannot let go of the only
being in the universe who affects her so deeply.
Now Uriel
must risk his life and find a way to protect their love.
Reader
Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom
doors (or other rooms) here!
A Romantica® erotic fantasy romance from Ellora’s Cave
“You bury that scythe in my floor one more time I’ll wrap it around your goddamn neck,” Uriel grated through clenched teeth. As long as he didn’t say God and Hell in the same sentence he remained safe from retribution. Michael was lenient in some areas.
Uriel, the angel of repentance, had grown tired of everything. Repentance. Life. All of it. And the foot-deep holes Samael left in Uriel’s floor with his scythe pissed him off. Not even he could kill another angel, and that’s what Sam was—the true angel of death. Uriel would enjoy the fight but, without a doubt, Death wasn’t the one he should pick on. The Father gave Sam power to destroy anything. Including angels. Right now the Grim Reaper, which is what humans called Sam, was his best friend. Hell, Uri’s only friend. But why was Sam in Uri’s domain? Ever since his showdown with Ramiel, the angel of hope, Uri had become persona non grata, and he deserved it.
He recalled that day with venom in his soul and it made him think of her.
Morta.
A whole new vista opened in his mind. Uri’s erection surfaced immediately with thoughts of Morta, the Fate responsible for cutting the thread of life. The woman who occupied corners of his mind he didn’t know existed. He envisioned long white-blonde hair and eyes that rivaled the violets he loved. In fact, he had created the flower so he could see the color everywhere he went.
Samael’s voice pulled him from his reveries. “You need a fucking life. You’re no fun anymore and that bulge in the front of your pants is a nasty sight.” His laughter rang through the chamber. How could someone who carried death so easily have such a melodious sound of joy emanate from him?
Uri felt very little of any emotion lately. “It’s only nasty to you. Many love it.”
“Yeah, well they ain’t getting much of it right now. Morta will never happen, Uri, she’s one of the three Fates. Wrap your head around that shit, man. Let’s go find some excitement.” Sam lifted and dropped his scythe with a clang.
Uri reached to take the weapon of death from his hand and a shock wave sent his chair backward and him skittering across the floor on his ass. “You piece of shit,” he snarled from his crumpled position against the wall.
“By now you should know better than to touch my tool.” Sam chuckled. “Can’t control it myself sometimes.”
Uri used his mind to right the chair and appeared back in his seat as though nothing had happened. Definitely the wrong one to battle with today or any day. Shit. “I’m not in the mood to go out.”
“’Til you get yourself some of your Fate’s tail, you won’t be. You can’t keep her but you need to tap that thing and move on.”
Available at: Ellora's Cave; All Romance; Amazon; B&N
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