Chase Michaels thought being cursed to live forever was a pain in the butt, until he finds himself on the trail of a runaway bride. When the lovely Mrs. Belle Gardner puts three shots right into his chest, he discovers pain in the butt doesn't even begin to cover the trouble he's let himself in for.
Learning that his client lied to him and that his trace is really the client's stepdaughter, Chase's rusty conscience gets the better of him. He agrees to protect her, only to find himself sinking into a deeper mystery that somehow connects Belle to his curse. Thrown headlong into a dark world where fairytales walk the earth, he must fight to keep them both alive. As a war of apocalyptic proportions breaks out around them, Chase struggles to discover if he can stand being immortal if it means losing the one thing he's never had -- love.
Learning that his client lied to him and that his trace is really the client's stepdaughter, Chase's rusty conscience gets the better of him. He agrees to protect her, only to find himself sinking into a deeper mystery that somehow connects Belle to his curse. Thrown headlong into a dark world where fairytales walk the earth, he must fight to keep them both alive. As a war of apocalyptic proportions breaks out around them, Chase struggles to discover if he can stand being immortal if it means losing the one thing he's never had -- love.
EXCERPT:
Sobs welled in her throat. Dammit to hell, they were too late. He was dead. Tears flowed down her cheeks, as she gazed into his face. Despite her earlier thoughts, he had been her knight in shining armor. Now, he was gone. She bowed her head unable to look at him anymore. The pain of seeing him like this made it all too real.
"Belle, I can't look that bad," Chase coughed. "Now, if you want to see bad, turn around. Caern's sorry mug is something worth crying over."
"Chase!" Belle's head popped up. "You're not dead."
"And you're real this time." He smiled into her face.
"What?" He was delirious. They hadn't gotten here a moment too soon.
"Nothing, it doesn't matter." Chase winced, as a smile cracked his face. "You're here now."
Belle scrambled to catch him as he collapsed into her arms. "Chase!"
Caern rushed over and helped her lay him on the ground. Raiz reached over her, gently placing his jacket over Chase's body. Belle straightened it above him, until only Chase's head poked out from under the massive fur coat. She ran her hand down his blood crusted cheek. His skin so cold to the touch, her hand flinched back involuntarily. Death crept through his body. Her tears fell onto his face, tiny tornados of steam to rise from the frozen flesh. She leaned forward, praying for some sign he was still with them.
"Belle, I can't look that bad," Chase coughed. "Now, if you want to see bad, turn around. Caern's sorry mug is something worth crying over."
"Chase!" Belle's head popped up. "You're not dead."
"And you're real this time." He smiled into her face.
"What?" He was delirious. They hadn't gotten here a moment too soon.
"Nothing, it doesn't matter." Chase winced, as a smile cracked his face. "You're here now."
Belle scrambled to catch him as he collapsed into her arms. "Chase!"
Caern rushed over and helped her lay him on the ground. Raiz reached over her, gently placing his jacket over Chase's body. Belle straightened it above him, until only Chase's head poked out from under the massive fur coat. She ran her hand down his blood crusted cheek. His skin so cold to the touch, her hand flinched back involuntarily. Death crept through his body. Her tears fell onto his face, tiny tornados of steam to rise from the frozen flesh. She leaned forward, praying for some sign he was still with them.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Surviving a long bout with sanity, J. Morgan found a muse willing to work cheap and began work on his first book.
Since then, his imagination has been seen running wild on several occassions. Luckily, the straight jackets have been limited to his time away from the computer.
When not writing, 'Jmo' can be found in front of the TV pretending to write while really watching endless hours of drivel and laughing at the voices in his head who are constantly feeding him plotlines. While the voices may not be in total control just yet, one day they hope to have a book deal of their own.
Until the, J. Morgan will continue to get to spend the royalty checks.
Desert Breeze congratulates J. Morgan on his latest release!
Your biography is hilarious! Love it! Great excerpt. AR
ReplyDelete