Description
When Misha gets abandoned by his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend on a dangerous hiking trail, the last thing he expects is to be handed an injured angel by a group of dead monks.
Finding out how the angel came to be injured will bring new challenges into previously-atheist Misha’s life, not least of which is finding out who injured his angel and why.
With that mystery solved, there’s just the small matter of the dragon.
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EXCERPT:
Misha swore quietly as he slowly, carefully, made his way up the rocky path, doing his best not to slip. He was not a sure-footed individual, and long hikes were definitely not his thing. But his boyfriend Marcus loved hiking, and had suggested the trail, which was a bit beyond Misha’s ability.
Okay, a lot beyond.
As usual, Marcus had sworn he would be there to guide him. As usual, Marcus was nowhere in sight. Misha doubted he would slip and fall as long as he was careful, but that was not the point. He was lost on a rocky slope rather high up, with no idea how to get down. Overhead, the sun beat down from a clear sky, and the air was filled with the song of birds and insects, and the scent of pine trees. Below, were the rocks and shale that gave this trail its nickname: Corpsegrinder.
Misha found he was starting to cry tears of frustration. Then he slipped, and sat down hard, frightening himself. That was it. That was absolutely it. Misha pulled out his phone and called Marcus. As soon as he heard his boyfriend answer, Misha snapped.
“Where the fuck are you?!”
Misha heard Marcus chuckle, and someone in the background, likely Paul the Obligatory Asshole, said “Whoa, he’s pissed.”
“Brilliant fucking observation now where the goddamned fuck ARE YOU?!”
“Calm down, just come back the way you went, we’re in the parking lot.”
More snickers and chuckles. Great. So they had led him up here, then doubled back, knowing he was not as skilled at this as they were. For what? Shits and giggles? Was this supposed to be funny?
Misha hung up. This relationship was over. It had already been on life support because of Marcus’s ‘it was just a prank, bro’ attitude, but this was the end. This wasn’t a prank; this was dangerous. Misha was not a skilled hiker, the trail was almost non-existent, and the ground beneath his feet was loose shale at best. If he got down without injury, it would be a miracle.
Okay, let’s find the path, Misha. It can’t be far…
Misha crept along carefully, moving slowly, unconcerned with how he may appear should anyone see him. This was about getting home in one piece and sorting his life out. And Marcus definitely needed sorting, right into the trash.
He carefully picked his way, ignoring the phone in his pocket as Marcus’s ring tone went off repeatedly. Screw Marcus, let him think Misha had fallen down the cliff and died.
“It’s just a prank, bro, why can’t you take a joke?” Misha snarled to himself. Tonight when he got home and kicked the son of a bitch into the street with nowhere to go, Misha would be sure to ask him that.
He had been creeping along for about thirty minutes when he saw the stairs; ancient hand carved stone steps, wide enough to be safe, but why were they here, at this altitude? This seemed wrong, who would have carved them this high up? And why had he never heard of them? Surely someone would have mentioned ancient stone steps on this trail.
Huh. Maybe he’d just made the archaeological find of the century.
And maybe donkeys crapped diamonds and gold.
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