Wings

Layla’s life is hell. She could really use an angel.

After a month and no sign of the witch hunters, Layla thought her life was in the clear. A gigantic werewolf has different plans. As if her life being threatened by a mad werewolf isn’t enough, the world seems to be ending. At least that’s what an impossible, deadly-to-gaze-upon angel living underground claims.

Layla is tasked to find whatever is ripping tears in the realms, causing creatures to appear and unravel everything in the world. Good thing she has an angel by her side. Garavel may not be a technical angel despite having white wings and a golden glow, but he’s sweeter than sugar and adores witches. It’s impossible to not fall for the cuddly teddy bear. Except, once Layla finds the culprit, Garavel must return to his master’s side and she’ll never see him again.

She’s going to need her sarcastic incubus, steadfast werewolf, and stately ghost at her side. If not, she doesn’t stand a chance in hell of surviving the ride.

Arrives October 4th

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Excerpt from WINGS

“You’re a…” I stared past the man with giant white wings to Ink staggering to his feet. I jabbed two fingers at them while waiting for him to look to prove I was right when the angel caught my hand.

Oh my god, he’s so soft and warm. It was like his ebony skin glowed with a heavenly golden sparkle when I touched it, which shut my brain down.

Flecks of amber sparkled in his eyes—such a deep brown as to be black—as he shook my hand up and down. “You must be a witch.”

Here it comes. I girded myself for the typical reaction of either fear or disgust. Didn’t matter who it was—if they knew about witches they hated us at first glance.

“Wonderful!”

“Come again?”

Garavel smiled wide with teeth brighter than his shockingly thin robe. He wore two pieces of white cloth that clung to his wide chest and solid stomach before tapering at the hips and dangling near his sandaled feet. The cloths were attached via gold loops at the shoulders and a strip of gold fabric at the waist. The outfit left the entire sides of his chest exposed, which he didn’t seem bothered by at all. Instead, he stared at me as if I were the answer to all of his problems.

My heart leaped at the idea I could mean anything to a creature of such divinity.
Garavel sheathed his giant sword on his back and tucked his wings in. They vanished along with any sign of the blade. “I cannot believe my luck to find a child of creation here!” he bellowed like a kid at their birthday party.

“Well, I’m…that’s me, witch lady. I mean lady who does witchcraft. Um, spells and stuff.” I tried to smile through the pain in my chest at how stupid I sounded and twirled my hair around my finger.

A slow chuckle drew not only my attention, but the angel’s as well. Ink tipped his head at my embarrassing fumbling, then he extended his shadow wings wide. Oh no, he’s a demon, Ink’s a demon. Demon and angel—they were going to rip each other to shreds in this underground pit of bones and I…

“Are you a demonic sin?” Garavel asked.

Ink fluttered his wings, blanketing the rest of the mausoleum in shadow. “Good eye. Lust,” he said, pointing to himself.

Why can’t he lie just once? I tensed up, trying to figure out how I could stun someone who’d taken out a room of corpse eaters.

“Delightful!” Garavel shouted, reaching over and taking the demon’s hand. His massive palm nearly dwarfed Ink’s, but the two shook with a disconcerting bonhomie, like two coworkers spotting each other outside of the office.

“You…you’re okay with him?” I asked. Why wasn’t the angel attacking? Weren’t they always at war with the denizens of hell?

It was Ink who responded with a slow chuckle while Garavel stared down at his attire. “I am afraid I seem to have spilled a little soot on my robes.”

“No, I mean you’re a—”

“Layla!” Daniel’s cry burst into the room right before he appeared, his face stricken in panic. “Are you…?” He reached over for me, the cold of his form barely competing with the chill of the tomb. Slowly, Daniel turned to take in the piles of decapitated pishachas on top of the mutilated corpses.

“As punctual as you are useful,” Ink said, giving Daniel two thumbs up.

“Who’s that?”

Ink slapped an arm across Garavel’s fridge-sized frame. “Our newest addition to the coven.”