Description
Saen is a fallen Grigori, a Watcher angel who interfered in the lives of mortals and now lives a somewhat human lifestyle. His existence, aside from work and his best friend Nathan, is a lonely one. Then he meets Ely, an enigmatic man who takes him to new heights Saen’s never seen before. When the answer comes as to why Saen’s so drawn to Ely, however, it might be more than Saen can handle.
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EXCERPT:
“But you’re an angel!”
“I know what I am!” Saen closed his eyes and curled his fingers over the balcony railing. “I know… what I was,” he said as calmly as possible this time. “But do I not deserve someone? Or am I expected to sit idly by and watch the humans around me live and love, without giving my own needs and desires a single thought?”
“I know, but –”
“I am fallen, Nathan. This is my home now, where I belong.”
“Isn’t that why you fell to begin with?” Nathan leaned against the railing beside Saen. “Because you became too involved in the lives of mortal men?”
Saen swallowed back the pain. “All I want is to love and be loved.”
“Saen. Listen –”
“No!” Saen slammed his hands on the railing and spun on his heel. When he stormed into his apartment, it took all the control he had left to stop himself from slamming the sliding glass door. Nathan followed him and closed it quietly.
“I’m sorry. Okay?” Nathan sat down on the couch and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You know, for an angel, you have a nasty temper.”
The tone wasn’t so much accusatory as it was teasing, but Saen knew there was truth in it. He squatted down and rummaged through a lower cabinet beside the refrigerator. He knew he had more absinthe. At least he didn’t remember drinking it all. But then, when drinking the potent liquor, forgetting things wasn’t so hard to do. He found the half-full bottle of liquor and stood.
“That shit is nasty.”
Saen tilted the bottle and watched the red liquid slosh in the clear glass. He shrugged. “The chartreuse? Yes. The red? Hell, no.”
He opened the bottle and tipped it up. The rush of alcohol and cinnamon was music to his senses, his palette, and he shuddered. It was the only thing that could get an angel drunk, and right now, he needed it.
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