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18.1.08

Heavenly Bad Boys




Fallen...Sinful...Sexy! These aren't the Angels you learned about in Sunday School!


Have you ever had a run-in with your guardian angel? Ever felt as though you had someone looking out for you, guiding you through the pitfalls and hazards of life?
What if that guardian wasn’t the white winged, golden halo type? What if that guardian was over six feet of muscled hunkiness and bad boy sex appeal?

I’m often asked how I came up with the idea for my Fallen Angels, and the answer is easy, really, they just came to me, full born and very much alive. But I suppose, the inspiration came from an incident at work. I’m a nurse as well as a writer, and without getting into the nitty gritty details, I found myself in a very tight spot with a young patient who was not long for this realm, if you know what I’m saying. There was a moment, while I was waiting for the surgeon and the anesthetist to appear, and after I had exhausted every available treatment and assessment available to a nurse, that I had a momentary episode of sheer panic and utter terror in which I felt I couldn’t do another damn thing. I can’t remember if I did, but I might have put out a silent prayer to the Almighty to help me. At that moment, I felt so damn impotent as I watched my patient slip further and further away.

Seconds after this moment, help arrived, and the patient made a successful recovery. Two days later, I made a visit to my patient, who told me that she remembered my face and my voice and behind me, she recalled a white fuzzy light, and him.
“Him?” I asked, feeling the hair on my nape rise sharply.
“An angel,” she said very matter of fact. “He was behind your left shoulder. He had dark hair. He stood very close to you. That’s how I knew he was there for you, not me.”
I was rendered mute, and humbled. My patient went on to tell me that he didn’t wear white robes, and there was no halo in sight. He was nothing like she imagined angels from Heaven to be. I smiled and patted her hand, and stumbled out of her room, feeling awed yet dubious.
That night, I awoke to my fallen angels. All tall. All dark haired, and all not sporting halos and white wings! Lol! That day, I happened upon some artwork that made everything in my head click. And what inspiration it turned to be!

That’s a writer’s mind, I’m afraid. We take the sane and ordinary, and turn it into something fantastical. No heavenly, God fearing angels for me. No, I have to make them fallen and tortured, and devastatingly sexy! And let me you, they have taken me on one hell of a journey, and writing about them and their mortal lovers has been a wonderful experience.

The Watchers is my angel series with Total-E-Bound about a group of fallen angels who have all sinned and have been banned from Heaven. The first book is about Gadriel (The Watchers; Dark Awakening). Gadriel is a warrior. He’s the silent but deadly type. The second book; Dark Admirer (tentatively slated for release in March 08) is about The Watcher named Anael. He’s the Angel of Passion and Pleasure, and this guy is, let me tell you, hot as hell! He’s also right up there as one of my favorite heroes I’ve ever created. He’s tormented, scarred, and sexually intense. I love heroes like that! YUM! The third book is entitled Dark Seduction, and it is about Sammael, the Angel of Transformation. He’s a mysterious soul, and his calling makes the mortals fear and despise him.

My newly designed website has some interesting information on angels, and the Watchers in particular. I also have a Watcher quiz where you can discover just what angel is your kind of hero! Lots of pics of them, too!

Visit http://www.charlottefeatherstone.net/ (enter paranormal site) and see for yourself. First two people to subscribe to my newsletter from this blog will win a free download of Gadriel’s book, The Watchers; Dark Awakening.

Good luck!

Got a story about an angel to tell? Delurk and tell share your angel story here at Hitting The Hot Spot blog, and you’ll win a copy of Gadriel’s book, plus a really cool Watcher’s mug filled with yummy treats~an early Valentine’s Day gift from Gadriel and the other Watchers!

Below you’ll find a teasing little glimpse of Anael, the Angel of Passion of Pleasure.

Sinful Reading…
Charlotte Featherstone




An un-edited excerpt of The Watchers;Dark Admirer, coming from Total-E-bound March 08

…Instead of reaching out and drawing his fingers along her cheek and throat, he rested his head back against the chair and stared up into the ceiling which was covered with copper tin and decorated with red bows and evergreen garland. In the centre of the display, stood a golden angel, its wings spread wide, his hands in prayer.
Once, long, long ago, he had been that sort of creature. Dutiful. Respectful. Faithful. He could hardly remember it now, what it was like to be showered with His grace; what it was like to live side by side with his brothers instead of being hidden away, caged in the furthest corner of Heaven, waiting to be used, waiting to bestow his great gifts amongst the mortals.
For so long he had been alone. Empty. Lifeless. Excommunicated from his brothers and his God.
Anael silently wondered if the seventy generations he had been imprisoned in the Abyss with the incubi and succubae who had tortured him was not more bearable than this isolation.
A ringing from the vicinity of the window jarred him from his thoughts. Twisting, he looked over the top of the chair to see a red cell phone resting on the window sill. A light flashed by the display screen as it continued ringing. His gaze moved to the right, to a table that was placed before the window. A table, which held a majestic black feather.
So, that is what had brought him to the woman. She had found a feather from his wings. She had touched it. Stroked it. And he had felt each glide of her fingers along his body as he tumbled through the air. He had felt each slide of her fingers as if it had been his naked flesh she had touched, and not just an errant feather.
Holding out his palm, he reached for it, watching as the feather obeyed his silent command and came to him. When he held it between his fingers, he felt the woman’s aura clinging to the feathers, smelt her perfume and the delicate scent of her skin as he brought it to his face, inhaling the scent of her.
He saw her then, a vision in his mind. She was standing before the window, staring in wonder at the feather she held in her palm. Then she lifted it to her face, trailed the tip of it along her cheek and jaw. Her eyelids slowly lowered, as if she could feel the same current run through her own flesh.
And then he began to feel what she felt. The touch of a hand along her satiny skin. The feel of a mouth slowly descending to her cheek. He sensed her response. Sensed his own. And for the first time in more than seventy generations, he allowed himself to be drawn in by forbidden pleasure…

Eve was having the strangest dream. She was back at the window of her bookstore, the strange and beautiful black feather lying in the flat of her palm as she watched the snow gently falling outside. It was dark now, the sun long since having slipped beneath the grey clouds. The moon was out, illuminating the snow and ice crystals that covered the street and sidewalk. It was cold and blustery outside, yet she felt nothing of the cold, despite the drafty window.
Behind her was a comforting warmth. It was not the fireplace, although the log continued to burn in the hearth. It was another source of heat. A body—large and broad—it felt so warm and safe. And the scent… the scent was like nothing she had ever smelt before. Exotic, mysterious. A hint of Eastern spice. It drew her in, relaxing her as if she were enveloped in a cloud of opium.
She was in a haze. Her limbs felt languid, heavy. Yet, despite her body’s immobility, she felt restless. A deep yearning inside her was quickly taking over.
“Let me in,” a dark velvety voice whispered, the words caressing her skin like a lover’s touch. She felt his hands go around her shoulders. His fingers felt long and sure against her—manly—yet so gentle. So skilled as they drew small circles down her arms.
“I could make you feel so good,” he said again, his voice hauntingly beautiful. “I would worship you, if you would let me.”
“Your voice…” Eve murmured, feeling her eyelids grow heavy, as if his voice had the ability to send her into a trance.
“My voice is only for you,” he said, and this time she felt his breath whispering against the shell of her ear. “My touch…it is just for you. My body…it is yours.”
Eve felt her body go liquid. His voice made her respond like she never had before. No man had made her feel like this. This languid, this free to indulge her secret most fantasy.
“I can smell your desire. I can feel it, your body heating beneath my hands. I can taste it,” he purred, then flicked his tongue beneath her ear. “Let me touch. Let me taste.”
His hands, warm and soft sneaked beneath the hem of her top. As if by magic, the cotton seemed to evaporate, leaving her exposed. Her nipples tightened, lengthened as her breasts grew impossibly heavy as his palm slid up the expanse of her belly, up to towards her ribs. Eve felt his breath, quicker—uneven—ruffling the tendrils of her hair. She smelt him, the exotic spice of him growing stronger as though someone had lit an incense stick. The heat from him—his chest at her back, his hand beneath her breast—engulfed her body.
“I could show you Heaven,” he said against her neck. “I could take you to places that no man ever could.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice nothing more than a quiet pant. Her body arched of its own accord as his palm left her and hovered overtop her breast. “Please,” she begged. Her nipples ached to be touched. They were so sensitive. Even the cool air sensitized them to an extreme that was a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“You are so perfect. So lush and lovely,” he said, his voice sounding as though he were awed. “Let me see you. Let me look upon the beauty He has bestowed upon you.”
Eve turned then, seeking the owner of the dark, mysterious voice. He allowed her that, slowly turning her with his hands. His head was lowered, his face pressed against her neck and shoulder as he nuzzled and inhaled her scent.
“Look upon me but do not fear what you see. Never fear me,” he murmured as he pulled back from her and looked down into her upturned face.
Eve felt her eyes go wide. A scream was trapped in her throat. Those eyes…those gorgeous teal eyes. And that face. That frightening tattooed face was peering down at her.
The man from the alley.
She screamed then, and threw herself out of his hold. Struggling, she wrestled with her consciousness, trying to awaken from the dream.
She did awake, and found herself draped in the wingback chair before the hearth. With shaking hands, she brushed her hair back and looked around the room with wild eyes.
She found him, sitting in the corner of the room, watching her with those beautiful eyes and that strange marked face. He was trembling. His hands shaking. Against the black wool of his coat rested strands of long blonde hair.
She studied the hair and the way his fingers trembled; noticed the way his Adam’s apple in his throat kept moving up and down. In those strained seconds of watching him, Eve swore she could hear the mad thumping of his heart beating against his ribs.
Let me in…the words—his words—came rushing back to her, making her feel the same rush of sexual desire as she had earlier.
Their eyes met, and Eve knew then that what she had experienced was not a dream.

7 comments:

Ashley Ladd said...

I've always felt that my mother is my guardian angel. LOL, I know that's not what you're looking for or your kind of fallen angels.

Your post reminds me of the movie
"Michael" where John Travolta plays an angel that smokes and gets his wings dirty. He was pretty cute.

Kristina Cook said...

Alas, I don't have any angel stories--though I wish I'd known my great-grandfather on my mother's side, because apparently he had *many* angel encounters.

But I *loved* your first Watchers book, and I can't wait for the next one! Thanks so much for this teaser!

Amanda McIntyre said...

I dont have any angel stories of my own, but your excerpt knocked my socks off! I'd heard your Angel dudes were hot--but I found myself drawing closer to the screen as I read...good sign.
Congratulations on the series!
Amanda McIntyre
Diary of Cozette-HQ Spice-Oct. 2008
www.amandamcintyre.net

Lisabet Sarai said...

Your tale of the guardian in the hospital is doubly amazing. First, because of the tantalizing evidence it offers of a world beyond the material. Second, because of the way that intense emotional experience turned into inspiration for your writing.

I'm going to see if Claire will give me your new book for a peer review. It sounds incredible!

lyntaylor said...

Wow Charlotte, what a great experience. Would you believe my Guardian Angel came to me and he was wearing a suit LOL! No halo. No wings. No glow. Just him and god he was delicious. I remember feeling pure and utter love for this man whom I'd never known of previously. Something I've never ever felt in this lifetime. And his eyes were just the most amazing shade of green with golden brown centers. I've named him Michael which was my inspiration for a similar artwork.

I can't wait to read your books - they're definitely on my TBR list :D

lyntaylor said...

Me again :D Your web site won't accept my email for some reason. Any glitches or is it just me?

danetteb said...

I have the same kind of angel story as Ashley L.

I feel that my older brother is my guardian angel, he passed away before I was born,but I think he's still here guiding me along lifes path.

I know someone is watching me because there have been a few times where I've almost been in an accident or I feel someone holding me when I'm afraid.
Thanks for the post.
((HUGS))