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View Full Version : Angel’s Fire, Demon’s Blood is now in the U.K.



tamquij
May 21st, 2010, 12:23 PM
http://tamelaquijas.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/lucien.jpg?w=100&h=150 (http://tamelaquijas.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/lucien.jpg)Besides being a lucky girl and having my book available at Coffee Time Romance, My publisher, Wild Horse Press, contacted me with some exciting information this week that I wanted to share with everyone. My paranormal romance, Angel’s Fire, Demon’s Blood, is now available in the U.K.! You can find the haunting tale of sibling rivalry and good vs. evil at http://www.firstyfish.com/ebooks/2645/Angel%27s+Fire%2C+Demon%27s+Blood_Tamela+Quijas_Wi ld+Horse+Press and at http://www.amazon.co.uk/Angels-Demons-Blood-Tamela-Quijas/dp/1441472770 (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Angels-Demons-Blood-Tamela-Quijas/dp/1441472770%3FSubscriptionId%3D1QZMGW0RRJC2PX87HDR2 %26tag%3Dsalranexp0d-21%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165 953%26creativeASIN%3D1441472770).
For all of my new readers out there, I’ve attached a little blurb and excerpt for you and welcome you aboard!
Lucien D’ Angel is a celebrated paranormal detective with a lucrative television show and numerous best selling books pertaining to the world that may exist beyond the human experience. He’s managed to keep the proverbial low profile over the decades and has purposely stayed out of the public eye, due to a secret that he harbors. His life was perfect. Low keyed, private and orderly.

That was, until Evangeline Keegan enters his life and disrupts the perfect facade that he had erected over the centuries.

Despite all outward appearance, Lucien has been cursed for nearly four centuries, striving to maintain a some-what ‘normal’ existence in society. Due to the actions of his father, D’ Angel the Destroyer, he has been cursed with the sight. He sees the spirits of the damned and those left behind at every twist and turn and he has been reluctantly assigned to gather their lost souls. It is a torment that he has endured, lacking any form of human contact and successfully evading the attention of his demonic twin, Julian.

Julian is everything that Lucien is not and his goal is to destroy all that Lucien holds dear, never permitting the curse that has plagued them for so many centuries to end.

Lucien has kept the secret of his identity well hidden behind a cool veneer of intelligence, but Eva soon learns that Lucien is a tortured and tormented soul who craves the one thing she will refuse to grant him.
His own death.

EXCERPT:

“D’Angel.”
The pronunciation of the name fell from her numb lips. She realized as she said the word that it did seem to fit him, oddly enough. He did bring to mind the paintings she had seen of angels in her youth, elaborate images that had filled the stained glass windows at the church her parent’s had attended. Those same angels had been pale and glowing, radiating with a serenity that was undefinable. Nevertheless, there was something else. There was some sort of…she was not aware of what, precisely, even though the angelic reference to Lucien D’Angel hit a distinctly sour note.
“Yes, my name is D’Angel.” He reiterated the appellation with extreme calmness even though she was aware of the expression that suddenly flooded his face. Extreme and intense disgust was clearly etched in every line, the name not one he cared to acknowledge. He appeared to mentally shake himself, sloughing off whatever demons had invaded his thoughts at the admission.
As he took another hesitant step toward her, Eva wondered why she felt slightly more chilled than she had ever felt in her life. The very atmosphere within the comfortable warmth of the apartment appeared to have changed.
“There are oddities in this world the normal and extremely fragile human mind cannot accept.” He continued and, for the briefest fraction of a second, Eva observed that he appeared to restrain a shiver of his own. “What I am prepared to reveal to you, Evangeline, I desperately require you to comprehend with an open and objective mind.”
“Whatever for, Lucien?”
He took another step toward her and she belatedly acknowledged the intense darkness of his heavily lidded eyes failed to reflect any semblance of the gentle lighting that filled the room. She detected the sound of a sharply inhaled breath somewhere in the deep recesses of her ear. Evangeline belatedly realized the wavering spirit that had hovered in the room had vanished as rapidly as it had appeared, suddenly wary of the presence of the individual that approached her. She peered up at the slowly advancing individual and discovered a look of intense wariness evident upon his flawless features.
Without uttering a word, Lucien D’Angel lifted the paleness of his hands. The flesh of his nearly colorless palms were level to her features and she pulled back, startled by the suddenness of his action.
There, resplendent even in the brilliant glow that filled the living room of his ultra modern apartment, her host had scars more common with a world that had passed centuries ago. Eva was unable to restrain the choking gasp of revulsion that escaped her.
Savagely burnt into the tender and highly sensitive flesh of his left hand, Lucien bore a circular brand that had a depicted a multitude of angels and demons, eternally intertwined and cavorting in a lewd and spectacular dance of death. As she watched, a small yelp of unavoidable fright escaped her bloodless lips. Lucien D’Angel had never moved from his rigid stance before her. She did not have to lift her horrified regard for him to comprehend the terror that filled her rapidly pulsating heart.
Before her appalled gaze, the tortured scar that filled his palm began to burn with an intensity that could only rival that of a freshly applied brand. The whiteness of his skin turned bright and glowing and the flesh began to twist and swirl. The garish images appeared to absorb all radiant light evident in the universe and illuminated the dim confines of the room with a gleaming show of intense white light.
Eva fell back into the cushions of the sofa as the engraved demons danced wildly against his flesh, their faces contorted into hideous visages of terror and fear. The winged angels rose brightly against the tortured and puckered flesh and withdrew mighty swords that shot minute rays of reddish flame against the abnormal pallor of his skin.
“I need you, Evangeline Keegan.” His plea was heartfelt although the issuance of his words struck a chord of dread deep within her.
“Why?” She gasped, the word sticking in her throat as she cringed back into the leather cushions of the sofa.
“I require your assistance, Evangeline Keegan.” He paused, mentally forming his words before he spoke them aloud. “I need to die.”