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Coming July 24 - Bad Angels: Burn!

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BLURB:

Title: Bad Angels: Burn
Number in Series: 2
Author: Belinda McBride
ISBN (13) 978-1-60521-259-3
Word Count: 30K
Page Count: 99
Price: $4.99
Release Date: 7/24/09
Editor: Vicki S. Burklund
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Dark Fantasy, Bisexual and more, Dark Desires, Dragons, Elves and Magical Creatures, Ménage


Following an auto accident, Rex Clark lays near death in the rocky wilderness of the Trinity Alps. Just when it appears that things can’t get worse, she shows up. Anahita… the succubus. She’s been his frequent companion, and the bane of Rion’s existence, for well over a century. But it seems that this time she’s come to help.

From the frozen villages of the Inuit to the cities of America, Dr. Noemi Gastineau has seen it all. When a fallen angel show up at the reservation clinic with an injured Sidhe, Noemi takes everything in stride. Yet within hours, she’s swept into an enchanted world she never imagined existed. So why are the men so temptingly familiar? And why is she suddenly so afraid?

A fallen angel, a Sidhe, a human and a succubus. Never mind the demons, these four are about to catch fire! The question is… who will survive the burn?

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Who knew that ice could burn like fire?
Miles beneath the surface of the Earth, she lay slowly waking. Panic came hard and fast; her eyes were glazed and frozen. Ice had invaded every orifice of her body… nostrils and ears and mouth, preventing her from seeing, hearing… screaming. Hell wasn’t fire. No. Hell was ice.
She burned; demon fire licked her skin even as the ice held her captive in its grip.
Her frozen body convulsed, and long stored energy exploded from her innermost being. Above her, the slowly thawing permafrost buckled and groaned, the very landscape altered and shifted. Trees fell, lakes drained, and animals fled for safety.
An old woman stood; she was heavily cloaked in skins and furs. Her bright brown eyes gleamed like polished obsidian in her deeply creased face. As though she was much younger, the woman rode out the Earth’s pains, waiting patiently as water began to bubble from a sheet of ice. As soon as it touched the frigid air, the water froze into formations that were the expression of nature’s finest art.
The agonized shift of ice sounded like a scream in the old woman’s ears. Pain and fear resonated through the air. Before the imprisoned creature came forth from the grip of the glacier, her energy burst through the air, swirling in a red, turbulent cloud. She was desperate… starving.
Before the woman’s eyes, the creature’s spirit vanished, seeking a path to the energy it needed to live and to survive this torturous rebirth. Ahnah looked across the great chasm in the ice and faced the demon that stood leering at her. He also waited for the rebirth of the ice-bound creature. He’d been the one to send demon fire down to awaken the creature.
She supposed he looked pleasant to most people. Even handsome. But Ahnah gazed at him with knowing eyes, and saw only twisted malevolence. He was a parasite who delighted in the taking of others. And he waited for the powerful female who was locked in the ice beneath their feet.
“She’s not for a cannibal such as you, Kelet.”
The demon grinned and waited. His human façade melted until he crouched on his haunches, clawed fingers scratching impatiently at the surface of the ice.
For long hours they faced one another there in the frigid, whirling winds. It was a long walk home, and would be longer since the cold was creeping steadily into her bones. But Ahnah knew her responsibility to the Fallen. She’d long heard stories of the star-colored woman who’d crashed into the ice, fleeing from the great monster that pursued her. It hadn’t been Kelet, but another. One who’d tortured and twisted the angel into an unwilling mockery of herself.
She’d fled to save others. That’s what Ahnah had heard. She’d fled to escape the dark ones who wished to use her, to consume her soul. The wise woman reached into the folds of her clothing and drew out an amulet on a leather cord. It was her most powerful medicine, whalebone carved by the skilled hands of her grandmother’s grandmother. It carried the power and magic of every woman who’d owned it. She smiled inwardly when the demon’s power wavered slightly in the presence of the sacred object.
He frowned and looked down in bewilderment, shaking his clawed hands, which slowly became the same color as the gray and white landscape. For the first time, fear showed in his eyes.
Ahnah had no mercy for the demon, and watched without pity as the ice grew up to trap his feet into place. “You should not have come to this place, Kelet.” The demon wasn’t a stranger to her; normally she’d accept him as part of Nature’s balance and allow him to live. But now, today, the stakes were too high. She showed no mercy as the ice slowly grew to claim his body.
Time stretched out meaninglessly, and Ahnah waited without becoming weary or afraid. In time, the Fallen’s spirit would return to her body, well-fed and healthy. And so the old woman waited, her back hunched to the wind, her careful gaze on the broken, crumbled crater in the ice.
* * *
Anahita shrieked in pain. She screamed in long forgotten fear, and her starved, frightened essence escaped her corporeal body. Her spirit broke from the glacier even as her panicked body remained entombed.
In desperation she fled, searching instinctively for what she needed. Without physical eyes to guide her, she perceived bright dots of energy on the Earth below. Any would serve as food, but none would be enough.
Lights flashed and then died out quickly… too quickly for her to capture the energy that was being released. She cast her senses further, over the continent, over the ocean.
On the horizon, three lights glowed brighter than most. They very nearly lit the sky with pure, unadulterated energy. That energy would be hers if she could only capture it.
Swiftly, she arrived and hovered over those three beacons, bathing in their glow, and allowing the energy to fill her, shape her, to give her form. She could very nearly see now, though her sight was not through her eyes. Three forms were lying on the ground.
Three male forms with energy that was raw and very nearly limitless.
Not really knowing what she did, the creature cast herself over all three, instinctively drawing her power to the cradle of their manhood, drawing them to arousal. One cried out in fear… and pleasure. His dreams had been erotic; his body was primed for release. The energy that escaped at his rapid climax soaked into her, filled her, and tamed the insane hunger just a bit.
Again she drew him to release, spreading her essence to include the other men. Mindlessly, blissfully she fed, deaf to their cries of fear and pain. Deaf and uncaring.
She fed, and as she fed, one male found the strength to break her hold. He was a gleaming light in her mind’s eye. He was beauty and light and goodness.
He was knowledge. And Anahita knew him.
Horror lanced through her. She loosened her grip, and a second male slipped free. His light was as bright as the first, and she retreated in her fear.
She was nearly sated; her mind coming slowly to grips with what she was… what she had become. She remembered what she had once been.
Knowledge.
It tore through her, thrusting her away from her prey like a stray dog under the boot of a farmer. She withdrew, casting a single, lingering glance on the third of the men. His taste was different than the others. Perhaps it was a bit sweeter because it was freely given. This one knew that sacrifice lead to great rewards.
His flavor was that of life and growing things. It settled warm inside her, spreading like a comforting blanket. She let go and rose, allowing her body to call her back to its icy grave and all consuming blackness. As she settled back into that frozen shell, she carried a seed… a memory. And that memory would grow to overtake the darkness that had threatened her soul all those many years ago.
In some way, Anahita knew that the circle had been closed, and she had been saved.
* * *
The Fallen shivered in the frigid wind, her ice-seared eyes opened to see an elderly female hovering above her body, looking at her in concern. Beyond her were a hard gray sky and an ice-locked landscape. The woman helped her rise, quickly wrapping her feet and her body in warm furs. She looped something around Anahita’s neck. Automatically, her hand settled over it, and the object gave her great comfort.
The woman spoke, but it was no language that she’d had ever before heard. Yet the meaning was clear.
“Don’t be afraid, little one. Let your old mother take care of you.” Every instinct that Anahita possessed told her the woman spoke true, and that she was finally safe.
Together they walked away, two stooped figures bending against the ice-laden wind. They quickly vanished into the coming night, leaving behind a frozen figure that slowly vanished into the ice where Anahita had lain for so many years.

Buy Link: http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1197

Now Available! Bad Angels: Falling

Well isn't he just the prettiest thing? Thank you to Bryan Keller for the cover art of Bad Angels.

I had a lot of fun writing Bad Angels. Initially, this book was simply the prologue of the story. It tells how Kokabiel, AKA Orion Hunter fell to Earth, met his Sidhe lover Rex, and moved on to encounter their third, Noemi. However, the boys had plans of their own.

What was meant to simply be an introduction turned into a full-fledged story. So...

I had an angel and a Sidhe, and I had to come up with a mythos to fit those two. Hmm...

Frankly, though I adore the UK, British and Celtic mythology has never been my strong suit. There are readers who have spent copious amounts of research on the subject. There are authors like Laurell K Hamilton who re-create Fairy Court here in the US in stunning, vivid detail. I really can't compete with that. Yet, I needed to create my own mythology for this alternate world.

To the purists, I apologise. I got into my old folklore tomes and found a couple pertinant details that spawned my story. First, some cultures believe that the Sidhe are the offspring of angels...fallen and otherwise. Second, there are as many traditions of fae and sidhe and little people as there are hairs on the head of Jason Momoa. I gave myself free rein.

So for the purpose of my story, Sidhe is a generic label for all those magical beings from the Brownies of Scotland to the Nerieds of Greece. There is no formal court, dark or otherwise. No fairy queens. As a general rule, the fallen angels produced the darker variety of Sidhe...vamps and were and boogles. As a group, they are known as Demon. And no, they aren't necessarily evil.

I did create a character that is drawn from a little known Celtic character. In fact, this guy pops up in numerous stories that I write. He generally has various names, but in this book, he's Rex Clark. Rex is a loose take on the Jack in the Green character. (If you've never heard of him, go to You Tube and search for Jethro Tull's performance of Jack in the Green) The Jack character isn't quite the Green Man. He's not Jack the Giant Slayer either. He's a little guy with a long tail and a cane and wings like a moth or butterfly. Jack is a minor fertility diety, so my Jack characters are always a bit roguish, and always very horny. They tend to leave a trail of children in their wake. Yes, our Rex takes up with a man in this book, but he is still a lover of women and Spring and all things green.

Well, the prologue to my book is now finished. It somehow expanded from fifteen hundred words to twenty-eight thousand or so. And I'm busy getting into the body of Book Two. Isn't it amazing and wonderful how our characters can grab the reins and run? It's all I can do to keep up!

Belinda

PS, at checkout, enter the coupon code BadAngel to recieve 5% off your purchase, and you will also be entered to win a Changeling gift certificate for $5, or a custom made piece of angel themed jewelry!


Blurb:


Just what exactly happens when an angel goes bad?

Stripped of his voice, his memories, and his divinity, Rion Hunter falls to Earth in a fiery blaze. After crashing into a muddy sheep pasture in Scotland, the disgraced angel finds himself face-to-face with an unlikely rescuer: a sidhe-born farmer named Rex.

Rex finds himself rapidly falling for the beautiful angel, which can be risky when the object of your affection just might be psychotic. And if that isn’t enough, the men find that they’ve come to the attention of a ravenous succubus, who has developed an appetite for Scottish farmers.

Falling isn’t so bad… it’s the landing that hurts.

Excerpt:

Kokabiel lay deep under the surface of the Earth where he remained for hours and days and years until one morning he emerged, whole in body, but damaged and tainted in mind and soul. He burrowed his way through the mud and ice of the Earth's crust, emerging from the rich black soil in an unwitting parody of birth.

Naked and filthy, he sprawled on the new spring grass, chest heaving, eyes bewildered by the colors and shapes that he saw, confused by the sounds that filtered past the mud in his ears. Strange animals surrounded Kokabiel, ignoring him as they grazed in the field. Creatures wheeled through the sky overhead, borne on feathered wings, much like his…

He twisted, eyes wide in horror. They were gone. Burned away. Only charred stumps remained where his wings belonged. Panic gripped his heart and he lurched to unsteady feet, once again searching for the wings that he felt, yet were not to be seen. He opened his mouth to cry out, but only a coarse sound emerged from his throat, bursting past his mud-coated tongue.

Kokabiel turned to flee in panic, but clumsy legs betrayed him, spilling him to the muddy ground where he lay panting, the crippling fear too much to fight.

"They're still there, lad. They'll grow back soon enough, now that you're back in the light."

Kokabiel rolled over and located the voice. He scrambled on his backside, trying to distance himself from the threat. The creature looked familiar: two legs, two arms, a good-natured face under a mop of dirt brown curls that glistened with silver. He couldn't understand the words the man spoke, but the meaning registered in his brain.

"Ah… it's all right. You laddies are always pretty shaken once you wake up. Don't know if it's the fall…" Humorous, smiling eyes gazed up at the heavens, and then down to the soil. "…or if it's the landing. Either way, you angels got it rough. Took you longer than most. You must have fallen further." He grinned, exposing a roguish smile. "I'm Reux. That means headache." He chuckled at his own words. "Needless to say, I don't use it often. You can call me Rex. That means king. Better name, if you ask me. Now what do I call you?"

He moved a little closer, and Kokabiel eyed the creature nervously, for this was no human nor was it angel. He looked like a man, but through eyes blurred with fatigue, Kokabiel saw something else entirely. Something man-like and charming. Something magical. Surely this was no demon?

Rex moved closer, squatting down on his haunches, resting his arms on his knees, long, slender hands hanging loose. His legs were clad in worn fabric breeches. A woven cloth shirt hung loose to mid-thigh. Scuffed leather boots rose to his knees. The creature's eyes were no color Kokabiel had ever seen; brown mixed with green and gold, harmonizing with his richly colored curls and warm brown skin. The forest green of his eyes echoed the rich green of his shirt.

At his neck hung an ornate amulet, dangling from a worn leather cord. Magic resonated from the object.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you? That's going to be a problem right quick. I'll have to keep you hidden from the lassies till you're on your feet. Can you tell me your name?"

Rex's voice was mesmerizing, lyrical. Kokabiel felt his heart begin to settle; his fear began to recede. His panic rose once more with the realization that knowledge was flooding into his brain. Colors had names, words had meaning.

Kokabiel moved his lips experimentally, and a harsh sound came out. Before his voice was music, pure and crystalline. Now it was hoarse and husky. He'd lost his wings and now his voice. Tears stung his eyes.

"Koka…" He broke off, unable to bear the sound.

"Kokabiel?"

He nodded.

The creature… Rex… rose and paced. Through tear-blurred eyes, Kokabiel thought he saw something… but he blinked and it vanished. No, Rex was no angel, nor was he human.

"The Kokabiel? The Star of God?"

"Yes."

"Shit. What in hell's going on up there?" He ran a hand through his curls, frowning up at the sky. Seeing Kokabiel's look of confusion, he shook his head sadly. "You aren't the first, lad. Not by far."

Kokabiel reached up and clasped the hand Rex offered. The other man pulled him effortlessly to his feet. He wobbled unsteadily, unaccustomed to the weight of a corporeal body. He stepped and winced, a sharp pain jabbing into his naked foot. His muddy skin pebbled with the cold. Kokabiel glanced down. His flaccid penis rested in a nest of dark curls. That was new. Before, his body had been hairless and smooth. He reached up and tangled hair filled his fist. It was no longer brilliant and star-colored, but a rich, vibrant hue… like blood. It was very nearly the color of blood. His hair fell almost to his hips rather than floating in waves around his shoulders. Gaps in the filth on his skin showed it to be creamy white rather than alabaster.

Kokabiel touched the skin of his face, under the drying mud. It felt as it should, smooth and hairless. The features felt the same. He wondered what color his eyes were. He suddenly realized that he didn't know what he looked like. Beyond his name, he had no memory.

"So you are God's Star. Obviously, we can't be calling you that."

Rex strode to a lump on the ground. It was a pack of some sort. He reached in and tossed Kokabiel a blanket, which he accepted with gratitude, wrapping it around his trembling body. A sharp pain ripped through his belly, followed by an unusual noise. Rex grinned as he turned away.

"A bit hungry, eh? Well, I've got mutton stew that'll be near ready."

Hungry? That was the pain in his belly? He trudged behind the man, realizing that he stood much taller than Rex, by nearly a handspan. The other man had broad shoulders, tapering to narrow hips. Kokabiel had nothing to compare the man to, but saw him as a thing of beauty and exceeding grace.

Grace. He had fallen from Grace.

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