Happy Saturday! I’m continuing this sample from the prologue for Bonded in Exile. Thanks for reading and leaving your comments 🙂
Rictor’s determined steps carried him to the edge of the village. Five minutes of peace and quiet—that’s all he asked for. Five minutes to just be alone, to clear his head. They all had their orders, they all knew what they were supposed to do, and none of them were happy about it.
This was the sort of thing nightmares were made of, but those heathens had no one to blame but themselves. Rules were rules for a reason, and the fallen had lived in open disregard to authority for far too long. Taking mortal wives—how could any of them possibly think this was going to end well? Fools—insolent fools—all of them. And now look where it’d gotten them, look what their impudence has gotten the Brethren, stuck here, forced to clean up someone else’s mess. Damn them all…
This is week 4 of 6 in an excerpt from the novel I’m writing called Bonded in Exile. Thanks for following every week. Hope you’re enjoying it!
This excerpt involves Riley, a fallen angel, and Emily, a Nephilim he’s been hunting. He’s finally found her and evaded Silas, another fallen angel who’s been assigned to keep Emily alive.
“If you think Silas is a good fuck now, just wait until he gets done with your head. Don’t you get it, Emily, you’re a trophy. He doesn’t give a damn about you; he’s using you, I’m using you. The only difference is, I’m not lying to you about it. Has he convinced you to help him find the book yet? Oh, he’s very good, so I’m sure he has.”
This sample is an excerpt from Bonded in Exile. Over the last few weeks you met Silas and Gnash. This week introduces Rictor, the leader of the Brethren, and over the next few weeks you’ll discover why they were exiled to earth. Hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading and leaving your comments 🙂
The first drops of rain fell from the sky, landing on dusty earth. It was the beginning of the end for a cursed race of half-breeds, born of lust and greed—pure evil…nothing more and nothing less. Any hope of survival was gone with the resolute slam of the ark’s heavy wooden door. The echo of finality could be heard around the world, and with it mounting tensions of desperation.
The Day of Judgment was upon them, the world’s natural order would finally be set right again. An entire race—the Nephilim—would be destroyed. Or so they thought. Rictor walked down the dirt-packed street. The rain quickly turned the road sticky. Mud clung to the bottom of his sandals, making each step a further irritation. The heavy scent of wet earth mixed with the bitter tang of fear, filled his nostrils, adding to his annoyance over being here. Men, women and children, frantically scrambled around him in a net of chaos, searching for some hope that wasn’t to be found. They were all going to die. The scowl on his face darkened. He didn’t want to be here in this God forsaken land—none of them did.