The son of a sex demon and a fallen angel, Oliver struggles to keep his libido under control while on duty as a shadowing angel in the wilderness of Alaska. He needs help and it arrives in the form of a sexy, no-nonsense former demon.
Henrie, a shadowing angel with experience, is the perfect woman to assist a man desperate to regain his self-control. What she discovers is he actually needs to cut loose, especially on the evil forces that are secretly plotting to destroy him.
"...a good quick read that you won’t be able to put down until you've finished reading it. This is one of her hotter books, and I thoroughly enjoyed every word of it. "
-- 4 Stars from Victoria Cross, Night Owl Reviews
Shadowed 2: Alaskan Flame
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Copyright ©2012 Kate Hill
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"Rutendo, you have no idea what you're doing," Henrie said, tossing her hands in the air. "You know the issues I had adjusting to life as a shadowing angel. Now you think I can help a newbie?"
"I think you're the best woman for the job."
"The best, or the only one available to help at the moment?"
"Do I look stupid?"
"No. You look stressed. Everyone knows you're pulled in a million different directions a day."
"That's the plight of every pure angel."
Unlike his shadowing angels, Rutendo was a pure angel -- one who had never been anything else. He'd never been a mortal, nor had he been a demon. At times he annoyed Henrie because, regardless of what he might think, he could never truly understand temptation.
"Henrie, I believe Oliver will benefit from your particular brand of discipline."
A sinister grin tugged at her lips. "Sounds interesting. Tell me, was he a demon before he became an angel? If so, he never visited my neck of hell's woods."
"Yes, Oliver spent much of his youth in hell. He's a special case. His father was an angel, but his mother was a demon."
"Then he really does have problems. How did an angel hook up with a demon?"
"Long story. What matters is Oliver has chosen his angel side, but he needs backup. He needs you, Henrie."
Oliver's good side must have been strong. She knew how hard it was to fight evil, especially when one was born in hell. A demon who hadn't committed a mortal sin might be saved from the devil's realm, but he -- or she -- must prove worthy. Only when the Dole of Angels allowed it, could a demon become a shadowing angel. She knew from experience their trials were difficult -- impossible for most demons. Even when Rutendo had told her she'd passed, it had taken months for her to truly believe it.
"What more can you tell me about him?" she asked.
"That's all. Anything else you'll need to find out yourself."
She narrowed her eyes. "What did you tell him about me?"
"Only that you'll be in Alaska tonight."
"Tonight? Rutendo, that's --"
"That means you better get going. Here's his scent." Rutendo handed her a pale blue feather.
She raised an eyebrow. "His? Odd color for a former demon."
"Half demon. Half angel."
"By the look of this, he didn't take after his mother, right?"
Rutendo didn't comment.
She took the feather from him and trailed her fingertip over it. Like her wing-feathers, it was soft. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled his scent. It carried the aroma of incense, musk, and masculinity. To her surprise, a sexual thrill shot through her, making her belly clench and her nipples tighten.
"You won't tell me anything else about this guy?" she said, her voice huskier than she wanted it to be.
"Henrie, as much as I love these little chats, I need to go."
"How long do I have to stay in Alaska?"
"As long as it takes," Rutendo said. Then he disappeared in a blinding flash of light.
"Damn, I hate when he does that," she muttered, shielding her eyes. "And I hate snow too. This guy Oliver better be prepared for an ass-whipping. Literally. Making me leave a nice assignment in LA."
Closing her eyes, she stretched and breathed deeply as she shifted into her shadowing angel form -- the same as her former demon body. All demons who changed to angels kept their original shape. Most of the time it was helpful, since demons were usually well equipped to fight their own kind.
Henrie glanced at herself in the gilt-framed mirror in the bedroom of her Los Angeles condo. She still liked her demon form. It was hot. Damn hot.
Her skin looked like ebony marble, and sparks of red burned deep in eyes such a dark brown they looked black. Her long nails were as strong and sharp as daggers. Enormous wings of black and red feathers opened behind her back. A slender tail, also covered in feathers and tipped with a red arrowhead point, drifted behind her. She wrapped it sensually around one of her hard, shapely thighs.
She reached for her favorite black-and-red leather flogger and held it tightly. Her stomach clenched, and she bared her glistening white fangs.
So Oliver had a discipline problem.
"Not for long," she said with a curl of her lip.
Henrie quickly packed a change of clothes, toiletries, and her wallet into a lightweight bag that wouldn't be a burden during her flight. She stepped onto the balcony, closed the door behind her, and rose into the night sky under the power of her wings and the cover of a dark cloud.