For five thousand years, Azrael’s heart has been cold like any other angel’s. Now there is one being who has warmed his soul. Repeatedly he has tried to comfort Brenna, but she continually pushes him away. Enough is enough. Souls cry out to him in the dark for peace. But can he truly turn his back on the vampire he finds himself drawn to?
The Angel of Death has tried to steer Brenna through the nightmare her life has become. Struggling to deal with Veronica’s death and her tottering feelings for Azrael, she discovers a vampire serial killer is murdering witches around Boston. Now her staff is the next target.
In order to track the killer, she needs Azrael’s help. Can she obtain his forgiveness after she rejects him? How can she woo the man she loves and show him she truly wants redemption? Will the serial killer complete his goal and call upon the father of all vampires, the devil, himself.
EXCERPT
“You took the only thing I loved. My only reason for living. And when I begged you to take me, you wouldn’t release me from this hell. Why do I give a shit about you or the others? They don’t care. All that matters is her. With or without your help, at least I’ll be able to talk to her.”
I felt a long pause in my mind. It seemed the angel was sighing.
Brenna, you censure me when it is yourself who truly is to blame. Those you condemn have all wished to assist you, but you push them away. They can only take so much. If you do not let others around your wall of grief, then you will have nothing and be nothing. I am not here to hinder you. Only to help. I have tried to coax you through the pain. From my understanding, that is how mortals support one another when dealing with anguish. They see one another through hard times. I am only trying to do this with you. Why do you push me away when—?
I stared at the angel, who had reappeared sitting on the small stoop. For a moment, my heart heard him. “When what?” I whispered, grasping for some unnameable feeling that caught my breath.
The angel looked at me with dark, normal eyes. Usually they were filled with stars and planets. His power reached into my soul the longer he stared. I sensed the spark I’d felt when I thought he could tell me what I was, but then I saw his true self—not a beautiful angel, but a skeleton, and I knew that he was Death. My rage returned, and nothing mattered anymore except trying to contact Veronica.
The angel stood up. “Nothing,” he muttered. His gaze was filled with sorrow, but before he could speak, Xavier stepped onto the balcony, passing through the angel who dissolved in a wisp of smoke.
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Crymsyn Hart - Paranormal and Horror Author 