Kiss of the Virgin Queen

Published: 10/14/2015










ISBN Digital: 9781509203932
ISBN Print: 9781509203925
Page Count: 300
Word Count: 74160
Rating: Sensual


Homeland Security Special Agent Eliana Solomon is on a mission to prevent terrorist attacks. Hard enough to do when the threats are human, almost impossible when it's an evil, shape shifting jinni. Eliana needs help so she calls the sexy and beguiling psychiatrist, Arta Shahani. However, no matter how good he is at his job, the man is on her blacklist. On their last case together, the guy left her for dead.

Arta is stunned when he receives Eliana’s call. Forced to abandon the woman he loves, he now fears she won’t accept his shape-shifting skills as a Persian Lion. Eliana, in the meantime discovers she is a direct descendant of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba with special powers of her own. But will her skill and Arta's be enough to defeat the jinni, or will they lose the love history decreed for them as well as their lives in this battle of good versus evil?

Excerpt:

Arta Shahani stood at the curb of the one runway Summertown Airport, took a deep breath of clean air, and admired the pristine mountains. An eagle floated overhead, enjoying the updraft. He wished he could ride the wind with the bird, and watch the green vistas and mountains roll under him again. One of the hazards of living in the Washington D.C. area was he sometimes forgot the more remote, less populated portions of the country. No matter, once he was with Eliana, it didn’t matter where he was. “With thee, my love, hell itself were heaven…”

He tapped his foot and jingled the change in his pocket and then stopped, suddenly self-aware of his mannerisms. Arta felt a flush of embarrassment dashed with a tinge of boyish anticipation. Eliana. All he had to do was think her name and crazy things came over him. His pulse raced, muscles tensed, blood rushed to all the wrong parts of his body. He knew the term for it, flight, fight, or f—

The sharp blast of a car horn interrupted his musings.

The object of his fascination sat in a black government sedan in front of him.

Eliana.

For a frozen moment, he stopped breathing. His stomach plummeted, and his pulse kicked into erratic beats. He couldn’t stop staring at her. Her green eyes sparkled with humor, and a mischievous grin spread from one flushed cheek to the other. Just as lovely as the first time he met her and took her hand. A jolt of joy headed for his pants. That would never do. He placed his briefcase over his groin and waved.

“You’re looking well,” he called to her through the open window. “I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

“Are you flirting with me, Dr. Shahani?”

“Is it working?”

“Keep trying.” Eliana leaped out of the car and popped the trunk. “Did you empty your closet, bring your complete wardrobe? You always struck me as a clothes horse.” She laughed. “Trust me, you won’t need much in the way of formal wear here.”

Her laughter reminded him of the tinkling of crystal. Their assignment in Arizona hadn’t given them any time for dining out. A leisurely meal, time spent alone. Time to man up and explain what happened two years ago. With thee hell would be a mansion of delight. Their last case together had been hell, but the time without her had been worse.

He dragged his larger bag over to the back of the car. “I wish it was just clothes. I stopped by to see my friend, the Imam. Told him I had a confirmed ‘Ifrit possession in another state, and a local Imam to help us. It was the only way I kept him from coming with me. He filled my bag with an anti-jinni arsenal, special weapons—conventional and unconventional—given to him by his predecessor.”




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