I've been getting such a wonderful response to Adel's Purr. I'm glad everyone is enjoying it. I decided I wanted to give you a taste of what's to come in Nico's Fire, book 2 in my Element's of Love series. If you are wondering, there are currently 5 books to this series.
Nico's Fire is about our beautiful Jesuit Inquisitor Jude Jamison and his budding issues with fire. Jude's power was awakened in Adel's Purr when Evan fought Father Michael. To say Jude's having control issues is putting it mildly.
We meet more of our villians in this book and find out just how far the corruption of the church has become. We make a few friends along the way and a few personal discoveries for Jude as well.
Here's an unofficial excerpt, now realize here, this is a piece from the rough draft, it is unedited, so there will be errors. I just wanted you to see a bit of the future. I hope you enjoy it.
Excerpt:
The distant crunch of tires on gravel should’ve been alarming, but it wasn’t. They’d been on the run practically from the moment they’d left Evan and Adel in France. ‘I hope they’re alright.’ Jude was the eternal worrier. He hadn’t had a chance to contact them, to see if they were being hunted as well. At first there just wasn’t time, they’d needed to stay ahead of their pursuers—now time had run out. As he lay, broken and bleeding, he prayed that Evan was okay, but exhaustion overrode everything else, and he felt too tired to really care.
Jude’s mind wandered aimlessly in a numb painless haze; he’d expended way too much energy in order to destroy the demons. He thought of Finton—last time he’d seen him, the little sprite had swung his sword and decapitated a vile looking creature, that’d kept coming even without its head. It must’ve been some sort of zombie. Fin had been defending the entrance, but he’d eventually fallen to their greater numbers. Usually there were just a couple of them, but this time they just kept on coming. Jude couldn’t remember where Skye had gotten to; he just prayed the little gargoyle was okay. Evan would have his hide if either one of them had been hurt. ‘So tired,’ Jude thought. It was becoming a mantra, going round and round in his weary mind.
‘If only I could pass out.’ Jude felt as though he was waiting for something—maybe death. ‘That particular entity must be having a busy night since he hasn’t come to collect my soul yet.’ Jude closed his eyes and groaned as something sharp poked him in the back, from the rubble beneath him. His senses registered the pain yet he was so far beyond mere sensation that Jude’s mind could barely acknowledge it.
A decidedly masculine voice floated through the fog of Jude’s thoughts. It was deep and warm. It made him want to curl up into it and sleep for an eternity. ‘Is this the voice of death?’ The sound of flapping wings accompanied the voice and a familiar sing-song warble made him want to smile. ‘Ah my Skye, good, he’s okay.’ Jude would know Skye’s song anywhere; he was still alive and obviously close by.
“Come on you beautiful bird, this place isn’t safe for a gargoyle. You’re too young to be on your own.” The voice crooned softly. Even in his less than stellar condition, the velvety sound of it touched something deep inside Jude.
“Oh God!” The voice shouted. Jude would’ve winced if he could’ve moved. He felt a hand touch his arm and forehead. “What happened!” That touch so—warm and gentle, he felt bathed in the heat of it.
The urge, the desire was primal. A basic instinctual part of himself reached for this other blindly. He wanted to whimper and rub himself against those fingers, but that would take too much effort, although the aching need to do so hurt almost more than his battered body. Jude wanted to answer the voice, but instead he forced open his eyes. He wanted to see the face that belonged to such a melodic voice. His gaze latched onto the most beautiful brown-black eyes Jude had ever seen. He reached up with one hand and touched the face of the man before him; he sighed as peace overwhelmed him for but the fleetest second, before darkness closed around him.
****
“No!” Nicolas Daemarkus screamed to the demolished room. The gryphon screeched, rising up on his haunches, flapping his wings furiously.
Fate was truly a bitch, how could that fickle woman play with him like this. Nico had questioned the urge to follow the gargoyle when he’d first seen it circling the abandoned building, but gargoyles were so rare these days and this creature was way too young to be on his own. Now he couldn’t be happier or more distraught at the same time.
The man he knelt beside was a mess of wounds and infection, blood and dirt. For all that… he looked incredibly beautiful and fragile to Nico. The man’s temperature was cool to the touch, but then all humans tended to feel cool to Nico and his brother. Still for a human, Nico thought, he’s too warm, feverish. He brushed the long red hair out of the man’s face, wishing those beautiful green eyes would open again.
“My poor little human, what’s happened to you?” Nico practically whimpered with distress. Something he hadn’t done in centuries, as nothing touched his heart anymore.
Nico knew he needed to get the man to safety. To call the burnt out building hazardous was an understatement; the structure barely held itself together, still smoldering in places. He didn’t know if he dared pick up his beautiful human—he could have broken bones or internal injuries, which could be made worse by his interference. He trembled with indecision. Problem was he saw no other way to do it. He had to get help for this man and there’d be no help if they remained here. He carefully ran his hands down the man’s arms and legs. Nothing was obviously broken.
Nico growled, decision made. He gently slid his arms beneath the man and drew him against his chest. The man was far too light for a human his size. He could feel the bones under the man’s skin—far too thin, but again his mind registered that the bones weren’t broken. Thin—Nico knew how to fix. Now, if he could just get the man to safety and get him to open his eyes. The fluttering beat of the man’s heart reassured him that his prize was very much alive and Nico intended him to stay that way.
The gryphon flew out of what had once been a third story window after glancing out, seeing no one below. Nico followed, the unconscious man held securely in his grasp, tight against his chest. He landed on the ground, three stories below, with the ease of stepping from one room into the next, without jostling his precious cargo. He sprinted to the car, where he strapped the man into the passenger’s seat. Nico couldn’t resist the urge to nuzzle the man’s neck as he secured the seatbelt across him. The man smelled wonderful: burning cedar in a fireplace and spice overlaid with strong male musk. This scent spoke to Nico, confirming what he’d known on sight. This man belonged to him—well, he did, if he lived.
“Easy, little one,” Nico whispered more to himself than to the unconscious man. His instincts were screaming to take him and claim him, but the little man was in no condition to satisfy the lust flowing through Nico’s veins. He adjusted himself, trying to relieve the strain on his raging erection that pressed against the zipper of his black dress pants. His protection instinct was the only thing keeping the man from being ravaged on the spot. He would protect this human, even from himself.
“Don’t give up on me, little one,” he whispered and couldn’t resist the briefest brushing of his mouth against his man’s plush red lips. His human was beautiful, his skin soft and pale as alabaster, with just a smattering of freckles across his high cheeks and nose. Nico straightened and closed the car door, then ran around to the driver’s side.
Pulling out into the street and heading as quickly towards home as he could, Nico was never so glad that traffic became nearly non-existent after dark, thanks to the mandates of the Church. Even here in the heart of New York City, people were careful about moving around after the sun went down—not that the night would ever hold any dangers for him. He hit a button on the dashboard of the car and called his brother.
“Doc”
“Hey Nico, what’s up?”
“I need a favor. A friend has gotten hurt. I’m taking him home. Can you meet us there?”
“Sure Nico, but maybe a hospital would be a better choice?”
“No!” Nico growled. “This is personal, Doc. Please—”
“Okay, Nico. I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, Doc. I owe ya.”
“Yeah—so what else is new, Bro.”
Nico hung up and looked at his little man, touching his face with a shaking hand. “Please—hold on, baby.”
*****
Wishing you Love and Butterflies,
Sui Lynn~~
