He’s looking for normal, but has he found Mayberry or Middle Earth? The Paramortals have a saying, “One meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it.” Our new sheriff stated it thusly: “Paramortal, my as$!”
Isn’t it just like a man to exit a relationship when he finds out a woman has a few little secrets? The last time I’d seen my almost boyfriend, Jack Lang, a series of shocks had sent us both reeling, and he got his first glimpse of my Paramortal “talents” – a few measly bolts of lightning aimed at his—in his general direction. The scant information we’d given him was like a snow crystal on the slopes of the Alps, or like a raindrop in a vast ocean of… extra-normal details.
I tend to think in weather terms since I’m a Tempestaerie, though I’ve denied my heritage for nineteen years—ever since my father died, my mother withdrew, and I was left to raise my brother, River, a Djnni like our father. Sheriff Lang is finally on board with our search for my missing brother but time is running out. In the course of the investigation we’ve gone from attraction to suspicion, support to friendship, romance to oh-my-god-get-away-from-me revulsion.
Jack’s an ex-Navy pilot. He says he wants to know “everything”. My ex-lover and guardian, Dylan McGuinness, says after we answer Jack’s questions, he’ll either join us, or grab his daughter and take the first jet out of Middle Earth.
He may help me save my brother and discover the whereabouts of my parents, but I doubt he’ll still want to take me to the Mardi Gras ball, once he knows “everything”. There’s a lot of everything…
“You vill meet a dahk dangerrous sttrrangah…” Aurora predicted at the Mardi Gras ball, and as if someone left their Swords of War video game on share in a parallel universe, he walked in. Conor de Sept Flambé, with his bronzed muscles and armored boots, the distinctive leathery tattoos across his shoulders, and two massive, deadly looking swords.
“Where did he get those swords?” Montana asked, drooling. She’d been unable to force her eyes away from him all evening. Then he’d walked across the ballroom floor, parting the crowd like Moses through the Red Sea, and asked her to dance. Turns out, he’s quite the music lover.
He said he wanted to show her some of his moves. Right! Her Dinnshencha warrior wasn’t born yesterday… There’s more to this Knight than meets the eye—and he’s already quite an eyeful—more to his appearance in Destiny.
With Paramortals losing their abilities, and dispositions going AWOL, Sheriff Jack Lang wants to know who will be left standing beside him when the Para-moon begins. If Flambé is what Jack thinks he is, their side might have a chance. If not, they’ll be in deep… trouble. Where’s an F-18 when you need one?
Strap in! ‘cause it’s a wild ride through Destiny, or should I say Middle Earth…
Five months ago, Sheriff Jack Lang would have sworn there were no such things as vampires, tempestaeries, djinn or dragons. That was before he met Tempest Pomeroy, his sexy redheaded mail lady and trouble magnet. He’d fallen for her before he found out about her “special abilities”. But that wasn’t what turned his life upside down. No, to say Jack’s world had gone FUBAR was like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.
Tempe had been afraid her supernatural nature would be a problem for Jack, who’d mistaken Destiny for a “normal” safe small town, but that didn’t explain why he’d left her in favor of haunting the highest levees in the parish. She knew he’d received a shock, but what was it going to take to get him to return to his life and to her? A stubborn man is one thing; a grumpy, depressed twenty-ton dragon is a bit more of a challenge.
Readers who like Kristen Painter, Darynda Jones or Molly Harper’s small town paranormals and quirky characters will enjoy Livia Quinn.