The
Deepest Well
Age
of Gray
Book
1
Juliette
Cross
Genre:
historical paranormal romance
Publisher:
Samhain Publishing
Date
of Publication: Feb. 2, 2016
ASIN:
B016XTOQIS
Word
Count: 85K
Cover
Artist: Kanaxa
Tagline:
Love can stand the test of time. Can it rise above the taint of Hell?
Book
Description:
Lady
Katherine Blakely is married to a monster. On the same night she
witnesses how low her husband can sink, she meets a charming
stranger, a gentleman from top to toe. Yet even her gallant rescuer
is possessed of a dark side.
Lord
George Draconis Thornton, commander of the Dominus Daemonum, is on a
mission to expel the demon prince Damas back to the underworld. But a
golden-haired beauty derails his plans and stirs an attraction he’s
never felt before, not even for his centuries-dead wife.
Discovering
Lord Blakely is in league with Damas, George sweeps Katherine away
from the chaos and devilry threatening her life. With every touch,
their love grows by joyful leaps and bounds.
Sensing
his enemy’s vulnerability, Damas kidnaps Katherine to his hellish
lair, where he wages a sensual assault on her defenses. As George
tears at heaven and earth to find her, he is painfully aware of only
one way to save her soul. The cost will break her heart…and destroy
his own.
Warning:
Contains wolves in gentlemen’s clothing, a precipitous descent into
Hell, and a frightening glimpse of a post-apocalyptic world where
angels and demons wage war for dominion on earth.
Excerpt:
“How
do you know about the world of demons, George? How did you move as
they did? I thought I had fainted by the pond and awakened beside the
barn, but I didn’t, did I?”
Had
she imagined being transported from the horses to the barn in a long
blink?
“No,
you didn’t faint. It’s called sifting. A power of the angels, to
move from place to place at will.”
“But
they weren’t angels.”
“They
were once.”
Fallen
angels. Could this be possible? What did that make the man standing
before her? He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Perhaps
I should define the two realms for you.”
“That
would be lovely.”
His
mouth quirked at her sarcasm, though he chose not to comment. “There
is the Flamma of Light and the Flamma of Dark.”
“Flamma?”
“Fire,
in Latin, which is the common tongue between the heavenly and demonic
hosts.”
She
pulled her hand from his and stood, staring into the flames. “Why
fire?”
He
joined her and removed his wet coat. “I asked the same question
once.” He winced as he peeled the coat off his right arm. A pool of
red had soaked through his undershirt.
“Oh
God, your arm, George. You’re bleeding.”
“It’s
nothing.”
“It’s
not nothing.”
Just
as he had unbuttoned her jacket, she swiftly unfastened his
waistcoat, then his shirt and peeled them off him. Steering her gaze
away from his finely sculpted chest and broad shoulders, she examined
the cut more closely. She bent over and, with a quick rip, tore a
long strip from her shift.
“You
needn’t do that, Katherine.”
“Be
still and let me mend you as best I can.”
He
held his arm straight so that she could wrap the fabric around his
arm.
“Why
fire?” she asked again, busying herself with the makeshift bandage.
“Flamma
are all touched by fire, an otherworldly power given to each of us.”
She
remembered the way he moved, the way the demons moved, with
supernatural speed and agility. A drop of rain dripped from his
tousled hair, landing on his shoulder before rolling forward. She
followed its path as it slid down and over his pectoral. Trying to
regain her composure, she inhaled a deep breath, which was a mistake.
She breathed in the heady scent of rain and beautiful man, her
agitation amplified by his proximity and the undeniable power surging
through his body. She longed to touch him, to know what all that
strength would feel like under her fingertips, but she was paralyzed
by her own desire and wavered on a dangerous precipice. When she’d
cinched the bandage into a neat knot and finally chanced a glance at
him, his smile nearly buckled her knees.
“There,”
she whispered. “That will stop the bleeding.”
“I’m
not so sure.”
“What
do you mean?”
His
shoulders went rigid as if he were holding himself in tight control.
Katherine knew his thoughts had wandered away from the wound in his
arm. She asked again, “What do you mean, George?”
His
eyes slid closed. “I love to hear my name on your lips.” He
opened his eyes again, his jaw set in grave lines. “What I mean, my
lady, is that I am bleeding inwardly, and I know of only one way to
stop it.”
Katherine
was well aware of the tension filling the room, of the rise of her
heart rate, of the longing in his gaze, which surely matched her own.
She realized she was tumbling over that cliff. And she didn’t care,
quite content to drown in his aquamarine gaze.
“How
can I stop it, George? Tell me.”
“I’d
rather show you.”
About
the Author:
Juliette
is a multi-published author of paranormal and urban fantasy romance.
She calls lush, moss-laden Louisiana home, where the landscape curls
into her imagination, creating mystical settings for her stories.
From the moment she read JANE EYRE as a teenager, she fell in love
with the Gothic romance--brooding characters, mysterious settings,
persevering heroines, and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only
longed to read more books set in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create
her own.
Website: https://www.juliettecross.com/
Amazon
Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Juliette-Cross/e/B00MQ18Z1W/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Juliette__Cross
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/crossjuliette/
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/XeKIn
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Great title. Have a great weekend!
ReplyDeleteSherry Compton
savewish@yahoo.com
This sounds like a great read!
ReplyDelete