Book Two of the Immortals Series
Anshar is god of the sky...but he's also something much more dangerous. Terrified for the safety of the woman he would call his own, he denies his attraction to keep her safe and the monster inside of him at bay. A battle is coming between the gods of the Blue Hills and the puritans who would destroy his kind before the gods can find their Chosen—mortals who are not just mates, but who can make the gods corporeal once more.
Lenore Crest is drawn to the taciturn god against her better judgment and in spite of the hateful lessons she's always been taught about his kind by the leader of a secret puritan society. Opening her heart to Anshar would be a betrayal to her people, and loving him could put everyone in danger.
Can their relationship survive in spite of his secrets and her misplaced allegiances?
Anshar fell with a crash.
“What the fuck? Ouch!” He’d landed on a big-ass, pointy stump and felt his hip split open. The pain was unbearable…and he was instantly filled with elation. He hurt! Lowering a hand to where the wood had pierced his thigh, Anshar laughed. He bled! My gods, he had his body! He tried to catch his breath; and what a breath it was. He smelled the woods, he smelled dirt and blood, he smelled…perfume? Heavenly perfume like orange blossoms.
Anshar looked around. Striding toward him, knife drawn, was a woman of diminutive stature and filled out with well-defined curves. A look of intense purpose mantled her lovely face. Brown eyes, thought Anshar? Hazel? No, blazing green…and long platinum hair that brushed her ample ass. Lust at first sight.
The front of his jeans suddenly felt tight. Shit! Hard on! Keep it under control big boy, he warned himself, although he knew it would be a losing battle. This was the first time he’d had a cock-stand in more than 300 years. He called out as she approached.
“Who are you?” Anshar’s gaze took in this fantasy babe, approaching with her two buddies. He wanted to get up and touch her, but was still impaled on a piece of wood, which was probably for the best. The woman’s lip curled up on one side in obvious disgust.
“We’re your worst nightmare,” she smiled, signaling to her companions.