Sunday, March 25, 2012

Sam's Snippet Sunday

Soul Warrior - Sexy Mythological Fantasy

"Sam Cheever has written a romantic story of two very different beings that fall in love against all odds. The characters are delightful and well crafted, with many emotional layers for each. This is also a story with intrigue and betrayal, and standing up for what you believe is right. ~Whipped Cream Reviews


She stepped forward, inclining her head. She wore a gentle smile on her face and appeared calm, expectant. She was dressed entirely in black, skin-skimming leather. The jeweled hilt of a sword rose over one shoulder. Her feet were encased in knee high, leather boots with metal reinforcements over the shins. Ornate, stamped metal was strapped around her thighs and buckled across her chest. Her forearms were encased in matching metal guards. 

She held a small shield in one hand.She looked like a warrior, ready for battle. 

Rael was in awe. She was an incredible sight. A loin-stirring concoction that made his mouth water. Words tumbled through his mind but none would drop down into his mouth to be forced into a coherent sentence.
Finally he opened his mouth and said the first thing that would emerge. “You might be slightly overdressed. I’m unarmed and way too tired to be dangerous.” He finished the statement with a smile. 

Bellona shook her head and lifted her hands. “I come before you as the gods have made me. I am a warrior, sent upon a mission from the gods. I do not choose my mission. I dare not question it.”

Rael frowned. “So that’s how you justify murder to yourself?”

She cocked her head, her expression calm. “Is that how you see me in your mind. As a murderer of humans.”
Rael frowned. No. That wasn’t how he saw her at all. “It doesn’t matter how I see you. It only matters what you’ve done.”

She inclined her head. “Yes. You are right. So tell me, fallen angel, Rael. What is it that you have done? What brings you such self-loathing and remorse?”

He turned away and reached for his jeans. Dropping his towel he stepped into them quickly, feeling the heat of her gaze on his backside. “That’s none of your business.”

“Ah, but it is. You see, you sit in judgment of me, without knowing any of the facts. I prefer to hold my judgment of you until I’ve heard all the facts.”

Rael zipped his jeans and turned to her. “Angels only meet my fate for one of two reasons.”

She cocked her head. Was she closer? Had she moved? “What are those reasons?”

“The first one is rebellion against the angelic choir…”

“And the second?” Yes, she was definitely closer now. Her beautiful gaze was intense, searching, locked onto his face. 

Rael sighed and walked to the room’s only window to stare out into the night. “Causing the death of an innocent.”

The soft warmth of her breath touched the back of his neck. Rael stiffened but didn’t turn. When she spoke again, her sweet breath tickled his ear. “You caused the death of an innocent, Rael? Just as you assume I have?”

Shame filled him. Self-loathing burned in his gut. He closed his eyes as velvet tipped fingers touched his waist, slipping lightly, reverently, up his sides. “Yes.” 

“Then we are devils of the same type, are we not?”

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