Curse of Tempest Gate (9 page)

The
Devil's Chair
above is in the Mary
Immaculate Cemetery of Kirksville. John C. Baird created this
marble masterpiece.

Karen Michelle Nutt resides in California
with her husband, three fascinating children, and houseful of
demanding pets. Jack, her Chihuahua/Yorkshire terrier is her
writing buddy and sits long hours with her at the computer.

Her book,
Lost in the Mist of Time
,
was nominated for New Books Review Spotlight Best Fantasy Book of
the Year Award 2006.
A Twist of Fate
was a nominee for Best
Time Travel P.E.A.R.L. Award for 2008.
Creighton Manor
won
Honorable Mention P.E.A.R.L. Award 2009.

Her new passion is creating book covers for
Western Trail Blazers
and
Rebecca J. Vickery
Publishing
. In her spare time, she reviews books for
PNR-Paranormal Romance Reviews.

Whether your reading fancy is paranormal,
historical, or time travel, all her stories capture the rich array
of emotions that accompany the most fabulous human
phenomena—falling in love.

Visit the author at:
http://www.kmnbooks.com

Stop by her blog for Monday interviews, chats
and contests at:

http://kmnbooks.blogspot.com

Visit the author at www.kmnbooks.com.

Stop by her blog for Monday interviews,
chats, and contests at kmnbooks.blogspot.com

For more stories of
romance, adventure, mystery, suspense, fiction, and non-fiction
please visit
Publishing by Rebecca J.
Vickery
online at

rebeccajvickery.com

A sneak peek at

Lucca: Warriors for the Light (Book 2,
Fallen Angels Series)

Lucca had passed by the shops of the strip
mall, halting in front of the Laundromat. He inhaled again and his
body shuddered with pleasure, his pulse quickening at the sensation
that swamped his body. “Dear Lord.” The fragrance came from within
the Laundromat. His brows furrowed in disbelief. The scent couldn’t
be laundry detergent, could it? If so, he wanted a bottle or two to
take home.

The white walls of the Laundromat made the
place look large and clean. Dryers lined against two walls and the
washers were down the middle of the room, eight in all, four in a
row lined back to back.

One quick sweep, told him only two humans
were in there. His gaze landed first on a boy who was about nine or
ten years old. He was a human male with light hair, a towhead as
human’s would call the shade that looked like moonlight. Then his
gaze focused on the female standing beside him, perhaps the boy’s
mother. The female’s locks were a warm color kissed by the sun,
making the strands a light reddish blonde. She wore it back away
from her face with one of those clippy things he’d seen so many
females wear when the weather turned warm, but the majority of the
length cascaded down her back in waves of sunshine. The jeans and
T-shirt were nothing special, but she might as well have been
clothed in fine threads befitting royalty. The cloth flowed over
her skin as if they’d been tailored to the way she moved,
flattering all her curves. “It’s her.” His voice came out in a
hoarse whisper even he didn’t recognize. The scent wafted off of
the female and he must know why it drew him. Why she’d chosen to
wear it like a calling card.

Gideon had caught up to him and stood beside
him now. His heavy gaze locked onto him. No doubt wondering what
held him captive. No longer one of the Watchers, he didn’t need to
explain his motives. The Watchers left him on his own. They wanted
him to interact with humans, learn to respect them. What a better
way to do so by introducing himself to this female. Then he’d find
out where she bought the perfume she’d doused herself with and be
done with her. His hand gripped the handle of the door, but
Gideon’s words halted him.

“What are you doing?” Gideon followed his
line of vision. “Do you know her?”

He didn’t, but he planned on rectifying it.
He pushed open the door and entered. He closed his eyes as the
intoxicating fragrance poured over him in waves of ecstasy, making
him dizzy with lust. “Dear Lord.” His eyelids popped open and his
gaze riveted to the human female. He wanted her, needed her. The
thought consumed him, taking over every other thought.

The female stared back at him. Her eyes, the
lovely shade of green wavered over him, assessing the situation. He
could see the warrior response in the depths of her eyes.
Should
she flee or fight?
Her back stiffened and her chin rose in
defiance. He noticed her hand moving to the back of her shirt.
Dagger? No, this was the twenty-first century. She most likely
packed a gun. It didn’t matter. He had to reach her, touch her to
prove she was no illusion.

He moved with purpose, ignoring Gideon who
had entered behind him, ordering him to stand down.

What an odd demand. They weren’t on a
battlefield.

Reaching the woman, he leaned near and
inhaled the featherlike remnants of pine. “Rosemary.” Soothing
cool… mint hit his senses next before a sweeter smoother fragrance
teased him. The combination of all three at once proved his
undoing. His gaze swept over her. He wanted to kiss her… every inch
of her. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, wondering if the woman
enchanted him. “What are you?” His voice was raw with emotion.

Her lovely arched brows drew together. He
could sense her uneasiness and she jerked away, but didn’t run.
“Did you just sniff my hair?” she asked.

Even her smooth and musical voice enticed
him. “What enchantment have you cast? The scent, the perfume you
wear, what is it?”

Her frown deepened and her gaze wavered over
his shoulder. Probably looking at Gideon for an explanation, but
when none came, her gaze met his again. “I’m not wearing any
perfume.”

“You lie,” he spat, not believing her.

Gideon placed a firm hand on his shoulder,
gripping it tight in warning. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. His
medication has him—”

“I’m not on medication,” he snapped. He
caught sight of the young boy starring up at him with wide eyes.
The child moved closer to the female, wrapping his small arms
around hers and leaning against her side. The action was not so
much as if the boy feared Lucca, but to show him, he would protect
the woman.

Brave lad.

“He’s not himself,” Gideon insisted and
squeezed his shoulder again, a warning he couldn’t fathom. “He
means no harm. Do you, Lucca?”

Harm? Lucca was taken aback. Of course he
didn’t mean any harm. He just wanted to… ravish her. The disturbing
fact unsettled him. His pulse quickened at the prospect, the blood
flowing to the part of his anatomy that was more than willing to
make it a reality. He had no control over the feeling coursing
through his body as if some entity had possessed him. He cursed
under his breath and backed away. Turning in a whirl, he strode out
the Laundromat before he did something he regretted. The thought of
picking up the woman and throwing her over his shoulder crossed his
mind.

Once outside, he leaned against the side of
the building and closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts.
When Gideon opened the door to join him, he pushed away from the
wall and took off at a brisk walk.

Gideon kept pace, refusing to keep his mouth
shut. “Well thank you Gideon for saving my arse.” Gideon’s
sarcastic edge didn’t help his mood.

“No one asked you to step in.” Who was the
woman? Where did she come from and why in the hell did he want to
take her? As his mind cleared, he recalled the woman’s T-shirt. The
decal, advertised
Shakespeare in the Park
, a theatrical
group that performed the plays at the
Garden Grove
Amphitheatre
. Did she belong to the group? To his annoyance,
Gideon still trailed him.