Find Michele Hart's New Home

Find
Michele Hart
at her new home:

Insurrection Books.com

I (Heart) Tortured Heroes.

 

http://carrieannbloghops.blogspot.com/

I cannot help myself. I love those tortured heroes.

It must be that genetic drive to heal the alpha, the risk-taker.

Have I got a bad boy for you.

First, let's talk about how to play this game.

Drop your name and e-mail address into the comment section of this blog
and you’re eligible for the drawing to win one of these Big Grand Prizes!
Drop your name and e-mail address in all 340+ blogs in the hop,
and you’ll have 340+ entries into the grand prize drawings.
Wow!
And for more fun,
I'll draw a name to win an e-book copy of one of my titles, winner's choice.

Back to my Most Tortured Hero.
Danny is a descendent of the Nephilim and a demon slayer.
Becoming a troubling force, he is.
Originating from such a dark place,
he worries Metatron, the mightiest angel in heaven.

     Daniel Tierney and his fellow I-Marshals take down the organizations producing the most dangerous substance in the Alliance. But reporter Faith Vedder turns up at the worst times, including Danny’s near-assassination. He’s had enough of her interference and requires her source of information.

     Faith won’t tell him anything that compromises her Pulitzer-worthy story, not even under the magic of hot attraction. She doesn’t know she’s surrounded by fallen angels at war. Danny’s not finished making demands. She doesn’t understand until a giant, snorting, winged monster slobbers down her back, threatening to flay her.

The gangbusters can’t delay in their mission to shut down gangs until Danny learns the new criminal kingpin of their world is a man who once held Faith’s heart. In the guise of a gangland executioner named Heretic, Danny will destroy him. Even if it destroys Faith. Angels are watching. Demons are plotting. Faith is the key.

***

Outside common knowledge of the galaxy's mortal realm burns the holy war between the angels guarding the Maker's paradise and the demons who desire to rip down those gates, casting all souls into chaos. Guided by the heavenly hosts, only the Alliance I-Marshals weaken the grip of the demon hordes upon the mortal worlds.

***
Here's a taste of the torture in Danny.
(This excerpt is rated PG-13 for remembered violence and Danny's sexiness.
The story is rated R.)

Faith’s fingertip traced the pitchfork brand on his bicep, and she watched a lone bead of sweat fall into the deep scar and followed its path until it broke free.

“Danny?”

“Yeah, Faith?”

“You’re sooo sssexy…”

The bass sound of his chuckle sent waves of pleasure through her when she’d thought he’d already worked her every nerve to exhaustion. He brought her mouth to his and placed a gentle magic kiss of reward to her lips.

Having made love to her again, he’d marked her for all the demons to discern. And she wanted them to know she belonged to Danny. She feared what belonging to Heretic meant.

“I’m tired of hearing people call you Heretic, and I don’t know who he is,” she declared barely above a whisper, her cheek against his chest. “Is he the man I’m sleeping with?”

Danny chuckled, not taking her seriously enough, and he squeezed her against him possessively. “No, you’re sleeping with me.”

“Teach me the difference between the two of you, Danny. You know everything there is to know about me. It’s not fair that I know nothing about you. Everyone around me knows you as Heretic.”

“Only the thugs, Faith. You don’t need to know Heretic.”

She sat up, clutching the sheet to her body, and she gave him a potent plea with her eyes so he would see its importance between them.

“I’ll accept any part of you, Danny. I see why you do what you do. As Heretic, you make the universe more beautiful by cutting the sadistic demon forces upon the worlds. Heretic’s the angel of death in you. I understand it. I do need to know…what turned you into a killer?”

A pause stretched between them, and she hoped he decided she was worth the truth.

“Detachment. And an odd turn of events, for sure.” The tone of his deep voice gave away his self-analysis. His hand went to her arm and gave it a long, slow caress that seemed like a comforting action. “Though it never takes much to push the Nephilim to evil deeds.”

Was this the first time he’d admitted aloud to being of Nephilim descent?

“I’d had problems with losing my father at a young age. I’d started acting out in school, and my mother had been lost to help me. She’d taken me to counseling, hoping the Church would change my path. I’d told them I no longer believed in the goodness of the world. The priest had called me a heretic to disbelieve the Maker was in the creation. I’d agreed that I was. It was a label that had echoed through my brain.

“At thirteen years old, I’d been pressed to defend myself in a neighborhood turf war, and when I’d finished, I’d left bodies behind. Word had gotten out that I had no fear. And I’d learned that reputation could put money into my hands. It had eased my mother’s burden. I could watch people and know they were evil. I’d exterminated those who’d deserved to meet their Maker.”

Who Danny Tierney was became clearer to Faith. He’d been a vigilante for hire before he’d become an I-Marshal. It was a potent revelation in figuring out what drove him. The ability to spot evil sounded to her like an angelic trait.

“No matter how young you are, you’re a man when you wield a pistol in the streets. When I’d been fourteen, the sister of a friend of mine had been attacked, truly brutalized and left in a coma. I’d learned the shot had been called from San Ledra prison in retaliation for a hit I’d made. So I’d ambushed her attackers with plans to end up at San Ledra and finish the job with the shot caller. But the men I’d attacked had turned out to be monsters. They had soon regenerated from what was for them insubstantial wounds, and they’d walked from the morgue, not as unusual as one would think. The now bodyless prosecution against me blown, the judge had more closely studied the case and figured out how I had committed the slayings when the clock had said I couldn’t have.”

She lifted her head and regarded him. “What had you done?”

Danny tossed overlong bangs from his stunning gray eyes. “I’d tickled time a bit.”

“Tickled time?”

“I’d known I was uncommonly fast. It had been the Brotherhood who’d noticed the supernatural nature of it. They’d been seeking signs of the Nephilim in the population. In me they’d seen some goodness where none showed, so they’d ended my legal case and devised a new future for me. The Alliance Marines and the I-Marshal Academy.”

Danny wielded supernatural influence over time. Was that how he’d become the hottest gun in gangland?

“No matter the number of demons I put down, I can never bring back my friend’s sister.”

The pain in his eyes was ripe and unmistakable for anything else. It was an agony that would never leave him.

***

Find out how Heretic deals justice.
Bookmark this page and return after the blog hop.
Discover hot, peril-packed excerpts. Read the first chapter:
http://www.MicheleHart.com/b28-book.htm

 Buy Link: http://www.BookStrand.com/gangbusters
Available now @ BookStrand, Amazon Books, Barnes and Noble,
nearly everywhere.

Read and live an adventure.

Have an action-filled day,

Michele Hart

Have fun hopping.

Welcome, Lucky in Love Blog Hoppers!

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone!

St. Patty's Day is a favorite holiday for me
because I'm part Irish,
and I have kissed the blarney stone!
(Psst! Most writers have.)

Does everyone know how to play this blog hop?
Drop your name and e-mail address
into the comment section of this blog
and you’re eligible to win one of these Big Grand Prizes!
Drop your name and e-mail address in all 200+ blogs,
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Now, for a couple who's Lucky in Love. And adventure! 

Cop or convict?

How many faces can one man own?

     An assassin wearing a holographic mask and a prison tattoo boards Rachel’s freighter during a prison riot, intent on collecting gadgets capable of changing a man’s identity from the black-market gang who'd stolen them. Rachel’s never sure of Jack's identity nor his goal, but he claims to be an Alliance I-Marshal. Cop or convict? The clues never stop contradicting. She's horrified to find the bright holographic mask conceals the gruesome face of a monster. And the badge doesn’t slow him from murdering people right before her eyes.

         When Rachel learns Jack will trade innocent lives for the digital miracles, she determines to make the mercenary grow a heart.  How could a stone-cold killer kiss her so hotly? How could she kiss such a dangerous deceiver?

       Jack has done years in prison to learn who’d stolen the remaining Gemini ticks, 3-D magic. Nothing will keep him from gaining extreme technology capable of unleashing galaxy-wide chaos. Forget feelings for Rachel. She can’t stop him from killing everyone involved.

***

Check out the 5-star reviews for LUMINOUS NIGHTS here! 

Luminous Nights finaled in
the Golden Quill Contest for Best Sci-Fi.

Find out why.

***

Here's a flash look at Rachel and Jack
happy together and getting sexy...

(This excerpt is rated R for a sexual situation.)
Reward for a Hero

 

          “Where did you pitch our tent, Luminous?” Rachel asked Jack, stepping over dew-wet sticks and leaves toward a light deeper in the moonlit forest.

          “Stop calling me that,” Jack said, tugging her into the tree line.

          “Stop calling you Luminous?”

          “Yeah. Don’t call me that. It's not who I want to be with you.”

          “Should I tell everyone?”

          “No, just you. I don’t want you calling me that.”

          It was progress that he wanted someone to know him beyond his life as a government assassin.

          Beyond the camp firelight, he led her to a tent beyond the woods’ edge and out of view. Jack’s camping light was turned on inside. Incense smelling just like the incense she kept in her quarters smoldered in the air. How did he do that?

          He held the flap open, and she entered, spotting pillows atop their sleeping mats. She peeled her flight jacket away from her body, and the sudden coolness struck her.

          Jack swiftly stripped himself down to nothing. Her eyes could go nowhere but to his hard-toned, toasted flesh and the poetic rhapsody of muscles gliding over his big frame, tightening, then releasing. Heat traveled through her with the cresting waves of his sinewy shoulders, eating up the cold.

          Her smile at his golden and beautiful nudity defied taming as she watched him climb into the covers and drag thick blankets over the mats.

          “It’s getting pretty chilly on this space ball.” Ironic to his unclothed condition. He dragged his backpack over to the bed. “We need to generate some heat in here.”

          His smile grew naughty, and his eyes followed her hand pulling the tie from her hair.

          He went back to digging into his pack. Her breathing altered just knowing what he could do to her with that fabulously proficient body and his fine imagination. She stripped herself of clothes and dived into the covers to keep from freezing. Then she watched him retrieve the gold-foil wrapping of the Eltanin dark chocolate, and he smiled at her gaze fixed on the shiny package. His first chocolate kiss had been the most blood-heating kiss of her lifetime. Was the chocolate addictive? Or was it all Jack?

          Sight of the square brought back physical recall of tasting it on his mouth when he’d taken it from her breasts. She could smell the cocoa brandy mixing with the sandalwood incense and his own masculine scent.

          “You say I owe you a kiss,” she said.

          “Not just any kiss. Your hottest kiss from the sexiest part of Hell.”

          The hunter sighting his kill, he eyed her and peeled the gold-foil wrapper too slowly. She studied his dilatory possession of the chocolate, intentionally driving her mad wanting to taste the delicacy again. The memory of Jack’s chocolate kiss caused her now to crave the confection and his kiss, almost like a drug addict yearns for his demon. It sent a hotter wave through her to smell the chocolate and him together again.

          Then, suddenly, she didn’t care about the chocolate at all.

          Before he could say his next words, Rachel rushed to his mouth and kissed him with all the passion he’d inspired in her, every tingle he’d given her, every moan from last night and this morning. She pushed him down to the mats and indulged in the taste of him like he’d done her. She pulled away just enough to straddle his hips, her hair tumbling down into his face, drawing a chuckle from him.

          Where the hell the chocolate went, she didn’t care, but the smell of cocoa and Jack sailed her to a deeper want of him, robbing her of sense and shyness. She released all that into her hands, stroking his bare chest, enjoying the texture of his sun-toasted flesh. He was so big. Registering his height and girth was automatic, but she hadn’t noticed how big was his ribcage, how wide his shoulders until she was looking over him, his body in her hands.

          Feeling all of last night’s hunger, she moved down to his mouth again and filled him with her passionate kiss, drawing a long groan from him. Her head swam with the stroke of his tongue. His hands moved from caressing her back to stroking the hourglass of her shape, and need for more of his touch roared through her.

          Releasing him from her kiss, she looked down to him from above. His smile wasn’t dirty this time but one of pure delight. She felt him swollen between her thighs, making her ache for him to fill her.

          “Wow,” he commented on her enthusiasm. “What did I do to deserve this?”

          As if he’d forgotten, or that it was nothing, of little import, or something he did every day without reward.

          “You saved Davi from a brutal attack, Jack. That beast would have killed him.”

          “I’m gonna save that kid’s life every day from now on. I’ve never known you like this, Rachel.”

          He hadn’t. She’d been defiant and cold to him. He’d been mean and manipulative and sneaky. It was Jack’s surrender to her of all his overwhelming power in this rotten situation that had shown her he wasn’t the monster he first looked like.

          Now he was an agent sent from Heaven to help her.

          “Get used to it. Every time you take your clothes off in front of me, I’m going to make love to you. Call it reward for a hero.”

          Jack tugged the blanket up to her shoulders, and brought her down to him again, and he filled her mouth with his hot, ravishing kiss. Her hips rocked forward in reaching him, and she felt his hand tease her, stroking her. She broke from his kiss to endure the ignition making her hungrier for him.

          Then he put his hands on her hips, and he pushed her down onto him, impaling her, causing her to throw her head back and rip a shriek from her mouth from the combustion his entrance gave her. He sat up quickly and his hands covered her cry. Her eyes popped open, realizing he attempted to keep the children from hearing their passion.

          He held her there, she in his lap filled with crashing waves of ecstasy. She felt every inch of him buried in her body, and she shuddered with the rapture of it. It was all she could do to keep from calling out his name in delirium.

***

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Bookmark this page and return later.

Discover steamy excerpts, explore awesome reviews,

watch a kick-ass book trailer:

http://www.MicheleHart.com/b15-book.htm

Read the first chapter here!

Read and live an adventure.

Have a sexy St. Patrick's Day,

Michele Hart 

Wishing you the luck of the Irish!