Please Note: I am blogging on behalf of the Boston Rape Crisis Center, and if you wish to sponsor me in any dollar amount--none is too small, every bit counts!--please go here: http://tinyurl.com/AdrianneBlogsforBARCC then email me your receipt at firstname.lastname@example.org so I can keep a running total. If you don't know what to put down for the donation, just put "Adrianne Brennan - Blogathon".
Dawn of the Seraphs - Available at Love You Divine and Amazon.com!
Series: Immortal Fire
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-60054-402-6
Print ISBN: 978-160054-372-2
lyd Category: His and His Kisses
Cover Price: $3.50 for standalone ebook, $20 for print anthology
Tamar is a Seraph, a member of an influential organization of powerful psychics known as ANGEL. Seraphs are humans who have evolved to have varying psychic abilities. Possessing a greater lifespan and intelligence than ordinary humans, Seraphs within ANGEL grow to their full potential through study and practice. In the year 4287 on planet Earth, ANGEL has deteriorated to become the harbor of the bored elite. A small but passionate rebellion rises to take back the power they once held. In pursuit of his own dreams, Tamar is caught in the chaotic struggle for evolution, power, and to define the greater good. Kir, an old rival from his days as an apprentice within ANGEL, resurfaces, threatening to shred Tamar’s world into bits...along with his heart. Their ideals clash, and a bitter fight ensues between them. Can Tamar’s courage save Kir from the darkness which plagues him while remaining true to himself and what he holds dear?
“Shut. UP.” Something struck Tamar hard and he fell, his back smacking the ground with a thud. It took him a few moments to register that what hit him wasn’t an inanimate object, but a blond man in black and scarlet.
Blinking, Tamar stared up into Kir’s light-colored eyes, now turned gray with his rage. The blond Seraph’s weight bore down on him, his strong grip pinning his shoulders to the floor. Tamar could feel his hot breath upon his face, the warmth of his body against his. And what cologne did Kir put on that day? It smelled familiar, something spicy. A hint of cloves, perhaps? His head hurt, and the room grew hazy.
“You. Are. A. Disgrace,” Kir spat out. “You’re holding back in front of all of these people. A Seraph like you. Pitiful. Have you no shame?”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Are you ashamed of what you are? You disgust me.” Kir’s hold grew firmer, his fingers digging into him harder. Ouch, what the frag? Tamar’s shoulders began to hurt, but he ignored the pain and glared at him instead.
“There’s no machinery in this room, Kir.” he stated in a calm and even tone. “No computers.”
Kir’s voice became a low growl. “Your datapad, or someone else’s then.”
“Fine. Whatever.” He cleared his throat. “Will you please get off of me now?”