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Evil lurks in the darkest of shadows, but a band of warriors stands ready to defend humanity against hell’s own monsters—Immortal men hand-picked by destiny and taken out of time hold the fate of the world in their hands.
One of the oldest of his kind, Immortal warrior Rhys Morgan spends his nights on the streets of Chandler protecting the city’s innocents from the demons that hunt them. Unyielding in purpose and uncompromising in battle, Rhys thought he’d never meet his match, until he met Amy Bennett
Rash and impetuous, Amy dashes into a fight, taking Rhys by surprise. He can’t decide whether she’s incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. But when the fight is over and Rhys is unable to get the beautiful human out of his head or his dreams, he knows his life is about to get complicated.
The barriers between the unlikely pair may be as thick and strong as the evil that threatens them, but some things can’t be denied…and dark, mysterious, sexy Rhys Morgan is one of them.
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From Jordan, Fallen Angel Reviews, Recommended Read
“This book grabs you from the beginning and never lets go.”
Excerpt:
“Thanks for bringing me home,” she said.
“No problem,” Rhys replied. He seemed to want to say something more, but didn't.
Amy stared at his mouth, wondering if he would kiss her again.
She really wanted him to kiss her again.
Deciding this was her night to flirt with danger, she didn’t wait for it, and instead went up on her toes, and smoothed her lips over his.
Jeez, he was tall.
Amy pressed her mouth against him lightly, cautiously, then he groaned and wrapped his arms around her, deepening her soft kiss into something more, something carnal and hot, and she tumbled into it, lost in her mounting desire.
Her arms clutching him, Amy found herself pressed against the wall of another building, but this time she reveled in the feel of the sharp stone at her back, and his hard strength pressing into her from the front. One muscled thigh moved between her legs, pressing up against her, and she gasped as her insides melted in response. His lips were traveling down the smooth column of her neck, along her jaw, licking the sensitive spot in the hollow of her collar bone, while his hand moved to cup one breast, kneading and shaping it to fit his palm, the other tangling itself in her hair, which tumbled loosely over her shoulders.
What had started as an impulse had quickly turned to a raging inferno, and she didn't care, had no intention of putting out the flames.
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