Tuesday, December 18, 2012
I hate plot bunnies.
No. Seriously. They suck big hairy donkey balls. (That was my reaction the first time I saw them, too. Oh! Mocha flavored!)
I just had to get the bug to write avenging angels, hunting evil in the darkness of the night and keeping us safe from the things that go bump in the night. Do you have any idea how many series I’m working on right now? There’s the Halle Shifters, Gray Court, True Destiny, Maggie’s Grove, Poconos Pack and Heart’s Desire. So the last thing I needed was yet another series plot bunny making me nuts, and this one? Is insane making. The research into angelic powers alone took me to sites I hadn’t looked at since my D&D days, when I was driving my gaming group crazy with fireball-farting insects the size of Buicks.
(Wait. I think it was Dusty who did that. But I am so totally stealing that idea! Maggie’s Grove needs fireball farting insects. Excuse me while I go make a note…)
Anyway. You all know me. I can’t take a story and make it, like, a stand-alone title. It goes against my personal Geneva Convention or something. Soon I have to sit down and write all the back-up stories that start rolling around in my head. For instance, I’ve already started the second Nephilim book, about Seth’s friend Dante and Abby’s friend Beth. I’ve got the working title, The Fire Within, but that will more than likely change before it gets published. And I’ve got all their friends to write about, too, and a Big Bad who’s going to start making an appearance, and…
And I think need a bigger bunny hutch.
The Nephilim Book 1
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: December 24, 2012
Someone—or something—is stalking Abby Marcheson. Luckily, she has her brother’s hunky friend Seth to keep her safe. Abby falls easily into her protected life, with Seth constantly by her side, and when he asks her out on a date, she’s eager to accept.
But Seth is much more than he seems. A Nephilim, a son of Angels with wings of his own, Seth is bound to spend his life hunting the Shemyaza, evil descendants of Angels. He’s kept his wings hidden from Abby in order not to frighten her, but as her stalker becomes bolder, Seth begins to suspect that a Shem has Abby in its sights…
As their flirtation escalates into full-blown passion, Seth is torn. Should he reveal his true nature to the beautiful, trusting Abby? Will she accept him, wings and all, or will Abby flee her guardian angel and fall prey to the sinister force that wishes her harm?
Warning: This book contains explicit sex and graphic language.
Abby’s windows were open. The aroma of burritos wafted out to him, his stomach immediately growling.
As good as those burritos smelled, and God, they smelled amazing, she shouldn’t have had her windows open. She didn’t know that she was being targeted. She had no reason to believe she should stay behind locked doors and closed windows.
Damn it. He was so fucking tired. But he’d promised Bill, his closest human friend, that he would watch over the man’s baby sister when she moved two doors down from him.
He sighed. So far, he was doing a bang-up job of it.
Not. He headed for his own town house. He was too tired tonight to keep an eye on Abby. He’d contact one of his brothers, have him watch while Seth slept. Micah would do it, if only because Seth would then owe him one.
He managed to get into his town house without falling flat on his face. He did wind up crawling up the stairs and into his bedroom. Kicking off his shoes, he crawled onto the bed and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
“Hey, Seth. Need me to guard your girl for you?” Micah’s deep, serene voice flowed over him. If anyone could keep Abby safe, it was Micah.
Seth smiled. “I’d appreciate it, thanks.”
“No problem. Rough night?”
“Yeah. Damien’s intel panned out. The son of a bitch was hired to find Abby.” Without Damien’s unique abilities, Seth wouldn’t even have known she was in trouble until it was too late. The name Marcheson had shown up on one of Damien’s computer-generated alarms. When he realized it was the little sister of Bill Marcheson, Dante’s coworker and Seth’s friend, he’d immediately contacted Seth.
Someone had done a thorough search on her, using paths open only to the Shem and the Nephilim, dark magics and light, mixed with modern technology that no human could have performed. If Damien hadn’t found the traces of the search, hadn’t insisted on hunting down the Shem who’d initiated it, they might have already lost her to a Shem’s hunger.
Seth didn’t even want to think about that. There was something sweet and innocent about Abby, something that hadn’t dimmed as she went from gawky teenager to pretty, shy woman. Seth would hate to see that light of hers go out, snuffed by a Shem bastard.
Gabriel had agreed to allow Seth, as a friend of the family, to officially guard Abby while the rest of the Neph did what they did best.
“Shit. I’m on my way.”
“Stay safe, my brother.” Seth’s hands were beginning to shake. Fuck the pizza. He was going to sleep. He’d hit Waffle House in the morning or something.
“Stay safe, my brother.” Micah hung up, probably already on his way. An Angelus like Seth, Micah would fly to her home, invisible, and guard her until morning.
But Seth found sleep elusive. The Shem they’d killed tonight hadn’t known why he’d been hired. He hadn’t known anything other than someone was after her, that someone might want more than her blood. Now Gabriel wanted them at the mansion. The leader of the Nephilim was making it official.
Sweet little Abby Marcheson was on a Shem’s hit list, and not one of them knew why.
Happy Holidays, everyone!
Dana Marie Bell has lived mostly in the Northeast with a brief stint on the island of St. Croix. She lives with her husband, their two maniacal children, an evil ice-cream stealing cat and a bull terrier that thinks it’s a Pekinese. She also suffers from Ankylosing Spondylitis (http://www.arthritis.org/disease-center.php?disease_id=2), a rare inflammatory arthritis, and can be seen tooling around in her mobility scooter or leaning on her favorite cane. You can learn more about Dana at www.danamariebell.com.
Posted by Meg Benjamin at 4:00 AM