Title: Angels and Man-Beasts
Series:Author: T.L. West
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: October 16, 2017
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 22000
Genre: Paranormal, angels, were-creatures, banshees, fantasy, paranormal, explicit, gay, mythical creatures, gods, shifters
Add to Goodreads
Synopsis
Zachary is an ordinary young gay man. He
works for his father, has a crush on his straight roommate, and likes to
procrastinate.
While visiting his aunt’s old cabin, he
finds a wounded man, and the door to safety is forever closed. At first,
Zachary doesn’t know what to make of the handsome stranger dressed as a knight,
but he feels a connection with him.
Zachary’s life is turned upside down as
his eyes are opened to the supernatural world. Not only must he survive
dangerous man-beasts, but he is also forced to make sense of what it means to
fall for an angel, and involve himself in a war between the Gods.
Excerpt
Angels and Man-Beasts
T.L. West © 2017
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
“Are we safe?” asked Grant. He looked at
his twin brother, Brent. They were in a forest, hiding behind one of the
numerous wide trees. They had been on the run for hours now, and Grant wasn’t
sure if he could keep going any longer. He couldn’t understand why this was
happening to them. They had done nothing wrong. He looked at the full moon
shining in the dark sky above him. He could feel its power inside him, but it
wouldn’t be enough to defeat the creature that was after them.
“Shhh!” Brent instructed him, not taking
his eyes off the path the creature would come through. Grant saw Brent’s
elongated fingernails digging into the tree trunk. Grant could sense his
brother’s emotions, and it worried him. He knew Brent was thinking of fighting
their pursuer.
“Don’t,” whispered Grant as he placed
his hand on Brent’s arm, trying to calm him down.
“What choice do we have?” Brent answered
through gritted teeth. “We’re dead either way. Might as well put up a fight
against that thing!”
“But we’re nearly there, aren’t we?”
asked Grant. “We’re near to—”
“Those humans don’t care about the likes
of us!” Brent cut through. “If the Rockfort Paranormal Department really did
care for us we wouldn’t be running for our lives right now.”
Grant stayed quiet. A part of him wanted
to believe his brother, but he also didn’t want to give up hope. He had seen
his pack and some officials from the Rockfort Paranormal Department, or RPD,
interacting quite respectfully with each other. Both Grant and Brent belonged
to a registered werewolf pack in the area. They were under the protection of
the department as long as they followed RPD’s rules.
But where were they when your whole pack
was massacred? The question shot into Grant’s mind. He and his brother were out
scavenging for food when they’d felt something occurring. They immediately knew
their pack was in danger. They had hurried back but weren’t able to reach them
in time. Their alpha, their friends, everyone lay dead in front of them. It was
Brent who saw the attacker first, hiding in the shadows of the forest, and he
pointed it out to Grant.
Grant had never seen such a creature in
his life. In the few seconds he was able to look at it before the two ran away,
Grant could only make out a silhouette of a humanoid form with large wings, and
a flash of silver that could’ve been a sword.
But what supernatural being had such
large wings and carried a sword? thought Grant. He couldn’t make sense of what
was happening right now. He just wanted everything to end. It all felt like a
nightmare he wasn’t able to wake from.
“It’s here,” said Brent, and he walked
away from the tree.
Not wanting his brother to fight alone,
Grant also came out of hiding. The humanoid form in front of them slowly walked
near. Grant couldn’t see any wings as the creature shone under the moonlight.
He was sure it had wings when he had seen it before. The humanoid creature wore
a silver cloak, its face covered with a hood, but Grant could still make out
long strands of silver hair from underneath. What is this creature? The only
thing Grant was sure about was that it wasn’t human. It smelled different than
anything he had encountered before.
“What do you want from us?” Brent
growled. He bared his fangs at the enemy, and his eyes flashed orange.
The being stopped a few feet away from
the twins.
“Answer me!” Brent growled again. “Why
did you attack our pack?”
The being didn’t answer. It reached
around its back and took out a long sword. It held up the sword and pointed it
at Brent.
“Take that thing away from my face!”
yelled Brent, and he dashed headfirst to attack the enemy. Grant hesitated for
a moment but followed his brother. Brent raised his claw to strike at his
opponent. There was a sharp sound of a sword slashing through the air.
“Ahhhhhh!” cried Brent as he dropped to
his knees. Grant couldn’t make himself say anything to his brother. Brent’s
cries of pain spread throughout the forest. The being had cut his hand clean
off with a single swipe. Finally forcing his body to move, Grant came between
his brother and the sword-wielding creature.
“No! Grant! You need to run!” Brent
growled through the pain.
“I’m not leaving you,” said Grant, not
taking his eyes off the attacker.
The creature raised the sword again. It
came down at him, but through sheer luck Grant was able to dodge it. Making the
most of the opportunity, Grant body-slammed the attacker.
“What the heck?” Grant’s eyes opened
wide in surprise. He had used all his might against the enemy, but it hadn’t
moved an inch.
“Grant!” Brent called out before pulling
his brother away from the attacker.
Grant immediately got up on his feet
from the place his brother had thrown him. “No! No! No!” Grant shook his head
at the image in front of him. His brother had been cut in two. He died saving
him.
The being looked at the sliced-up body
of the werewolf on the ground and then slowly turned its head to stare at
Grant. It’s over, thought Grant as the being walked toward him. It’s all over.
He saw the sword in the air and closed his eyes to embrace death. Will it hurt?
The sound of metal striking metal made
Grant open his eyes. Another humanoid being stood in front of him. It too was
wearing a silver cloak that hid its face, and it also carried a sword. Grant
quickly crawled away from the two strange beings as they continued their sword
fight. Neither spoke a word as the sound of their sword strikes filled the
forest around them.
Grant looked at his brother’s dead body.
He couldn’t make himself leave without him. He had to give his brother a proper
burial. “Run away!” cried the being that had saved his life.
“Huh!” Grant snapped out of the trance
he was in.
“I said, run away!” yelled the being
again. It was a man’s voice. It sounded human, but Grant knew better. Whatever
those two were, they were definitely not human.
“The followers of Fenrir cannot escape
my blade,” said the being that had murdered Grant’s pack. His voice seemed to
hit Grant’s soul, sending a chill down his spine.
“Not all shape-shifters follow him,”
answered the other being.
“I will not risk it,” said the enemy.
Making a promise to come back for his
brother’s body, Grant got to his feet. He was about to run away when something
sharp pierced his body. His rescuer yelled in anger, and then Grant fell to the
ground, moving no more.
“I will make you pay for that, Adriel,”
yelled the being. He wanted to keep yelling in anger, knowing that the young
werewolf he had just tried to save was now dead.
“When will you learn, Barachiel?” Adriel
smiled at his opponent as they blocked each other’s attacks. “They are all lost
souls. They are beyond your help or anyone else’s.”
“No!” Barachiel swung his sword at
Adriel, who easily dodged it.
“You are wasting my time.” Adriel didn’t
care to hide the boredom in his voice. “If you feel love for these wretched
beings, then you shall join them.”
There was a quick flash of silver, and
pain surged throughout Barachiel’s body. His sword fell from his hand. “I will
stop you,” he managed to say through the blood in his mouth.
“And I’ll be glad to see you try.”
Adriel smiled at him. He walked toward Grant’s body and pulled the dagger he
had thrown to kill the young werewolf from where it protruded from his back.
“You are too young to understand the grand plan, my dear Barachiel.”
“What grand plan involves murdering the
innocent?” asked Barachiel. He was on his knees. He couldn’t understand what
kind of power Adriel had used on him. He wasn’t healing properly. The large
wound on his chest wasn’t closing up the way it was supposed to. Barachiel
looked at his sword. If only he could reach out and grab it.
“Unless you side with us, you are a
disgrace to us all,” said Adriel. He looked at Barachiel’s sword on the ground.
“You do not deserve this weapon.”
“I deserve it more than you,” Barachiel
answered before spitting out more blood.
Adriel let out a laugh. “Fool,” he said
looking at the sword in disgust. “Until next time, sweet Barachiel,” he added
and walked away into the darkness of the forest.
Barachiel wanted to yell at him. He
wanted to make him stop what he was doing, but he felt too weak. His eyes began
to lose focus. I… I have to get up, he thought. He looked at the two dead
werewolves near him. His heart ached at the sight of them. He could never
forgive himself for not being able to save them and the rest of the beings
Adriel had killed in cold blood. Mustering all of his energy, Barachiel forced
himself to stand. He picked up his sword and started to walk slowly through the
forest. I should’ve healed by now, he thought. What did Adriel use on me?
Barachiel remembered a cabin he’d seen
while on his way to rescue the werewolves. He decided to go there to rest and
heal himself. He tried not to think about the other innocent beings that Adriel
was on the hunt for. He couldn’t understand how the fear of Fenrir, the wolf
god of blood and chaos, was enough for Adriel to go to such lengths. He too
feared the revival of God Fenrir, but that didn’t mean his kind should go and
kill every werewolf and shape-shifter in sight. That was not the purpose of
their kind.
Barachiel remembered his birth as he
made his way toward the cabin. He was made out of pure light along with
numerous others. Angelic beings like him were born as either young males or
females. But they could also choose the gender they preferred. They stayed
young and served their Gods as immortals. They were only able to be killed by a
God or a supernatural creature.
He was only a few days old when the war
among the Gods occurred, and he didn’t want to experience it again. Darkness
filled the realms and all of existence was at the brink of destruction. He
didn’t fight during the war. He was deemed too young by his creator, Perun, one
of the many Gods of thunder and lightning. But he still remembered the
countless lives that were lost. But now, being 2030 years old, and after years
of study and combat training, he knew he had what it took to stop such a war
from occurring again. He couldn’t let a wound keep him down.
Barachiel opened the wooden door of the
cabin. He walked in. He could see cobwebs on the ceiling and even on some of
the old pieces of furniture. The single window was covered in…fungus? Grease?
Moss? Barachiel didn’t have time to make sure. There was also a fireplace and a
small kitchen. It wasn’t large, but it would have to do for now.
He smiled when he saw the bed a few feet
away. He took off his cloak and placed it on an old chair near the door. He
walked the short distance across the room and placed his sword next to the
one-person bed. It disappeared, waiting to be summoned again. Without wasting
time, he sat on the bed and then lay down to rested his head on the pillow.
Things like dusty sheets didn’t bother a being like him.
A few strands of his blond hair fell on
his forehead, but he felt too weak to brush them away. He closed his eyes to
rest and give his body time to recuperate, knowing that as soon as he regained
his health he would go after Adriel and do his best to stop another war from
occurring.
0 comments:
Post a Comment