Blurb
Astra’s world is flipped upside down when she’s called
to a demon nightclub to rescue her magic-phobic sister, Darma. Turns
out the event is only a precursor of the weirdness to come. A veil of
twisted magic is descending over the Earth and it’s making everybody
crazy. Humans are killing humans, magic users are killing other magic
users, dark worlders are attacking humans at an alarming rate and madness
is rolling over everyone in waves. When the guardian angels start succumbing
to a rare disease called Devil’s Plague, Astra decides a visit
to the prophet is in order. But before Astra can get her arms around
it all, she finds herself facing the biggest challenge she’s ever
had to face—being surrogate parent to a baby dragon. No way!
It’s a whole lot of stuff for one little Tweener to manage. But
Astra Q Phelps is definitely up to the challenge.
"This
is one of those series filled with all the good things I want in fiction.
I can't imagine ever getting tired of books like these where the characters
and dialogue make the action come alive for the reader!"
The
Romance Studio
Excerpt
“Astra! We’re leaving.”
I jerked my head toward the nails-on-blackboard sound
of my sister’s voice and looked upon her with dazed eyes. “Huh?”
Dazzling wit aside, I was shocked to see her clutched
in Torre’s delicately muscular arms. “Wait a minute. You
and I need to have a little talk.”
She actually looked a little guilty for a split second
but she quickly regained her equilibrium. “I agree. But not here
and not right now. We have…plans.” She looked up into Torre’s
eyes and smiled. The smile made me distinctly uncomfortable. Partly
because I so rarely saw her smile and partly because it was a smile
filled with secrets and intimacy. My sister didn’t do intimacy.
She barely did civil. And with a Royal? Impossible.
I opened my mouth to argue but she had already forgotten
me. She and Torre turned away and melted into the crowd. I started to
follow them but Dialle’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“Let them go. You can talk to your sister tomorrow.”
I pulled my arm from his grasp, suddenly angry. Not at
him, of course but he seemed to be the only one available for me to
pound on verbally. “What the hell is going on, Dialle? How long
has my sister been dating your brother? Why didn’t you tell me
about this relationship?”
He grabbed my hand and we were suddenly on the dance
floor together, buried in the mass of humanity with a couple of feet
of space all around us so we could dance. If you could call it dancing.
It was actually more like mating, upright,
with all our clothes on.
Dialle wrapped both arms around my waist and pressed himself against
me, feathering kisses over my face and nibbling in strategic spots to
take me completely off my game. I started to forget what I’d been
mad about. Lifting my arms I wrapped them around his neck and clasped
my hands loosely behind his head, sighing happily.
When he spoke in my ear a moment later it felt less like
conversation and more like an extension of our mating ritual. His breath
was hot and smelled of sexual musk and sweet promises to come.
“I just found out about Darma and Torre tonight.
Apparently they’ve been seeing each other for months. Darma made
him keep it from me.”
Calm now and refocusing my hot blood in another direction,
I barely registered his words. I let my body drape around his and closed
my eyes. The music that cocooned us on the dance floor was raw and wild,
almost savage. The base throbbed in my mind and stomach and moved lower,
causing me to press myself more completely into Dialle and wrap one
leg around his thighs.
He groaned and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
But before he could whisk us away the air on the dance floor changed
and we were suddenly joined by my damnable guardian angel, Flick.
He pecked me on the shoulder.
“Go away!” I murmured into Dialle’s
hard chest and tried to ignore him.
He pecked me on the shoulder again.
“What!” My head lifted and I fixed him with
an angry gaze.
He smiled nervously at me. I was still having trouble
getting used to my new guardian. After decades of dealing with Myra
the cranky and firm, I now had a guardian who was shy and timid. I’d
been assured that he was fully able to protect me in my…shall
we say…challenging life but I was unconvinced, to put it mildly.
Flick slid a telling gaze toward Dialle, his mild brown
eyes going hard for a split second before returning to me. “You
are needed elsewhere.”
I frowned and stopped dancing. “What do you mean
I’m needed elsewhere?”
Flick shrugged and, before I knew what he was doing, reached out and
touched me with the tip of one long, pale finger.
I cursed silently as we left the plane of sound and movement
and wondered if this was part of their training. Guardian Angel 101,
creep up on your hapless charge and shift her wherever you please, against
her will.
I’d been tricked this way about a thousand times
with Myra.
We landed on cracked, weed infused concrete. A strong
wind blew my dark auburn hair off my shoulders. As soon as my mouth
would work I started spewing foul deprecations in every language I knew,
including Hades, at my sneaky, damnable angel.
This, also, was business as usual between me and my guardians.
Flick just stood there looking paler then ever until
I started to wind down. Then he peaked one mousy brown eyebrow at me
and glanced meaningfully toward the glass and steel building that squatted
beside us.
I turned to see a knot of children, probably about ten
or eleven years old, huddled in a lighted doorway together, giggling
behind their hands.
I turned my back on them and lowered my voice. “Why
didn’t you tell me they were there?”
Flick’s mouth flapped helplessly for a minute and
then a sickly smile slid onto his nondescript face. He shrugged, “You
really should consider taking some anger management classes, Astra.”
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