Heavenly Falling

By Bridget Squires

An angel cast out of Heaven gets a chance at redemption when her demon ex lover offers a deal from Lucifer himself. What would you do to return home? To be loved by God once more? Would you betray the sacred home of one of God's favorites?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bridget Squires
• Release date: Mar 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458040824

Bridget Squires

I am a 27 year old single mom. I love writing and it is my ultimate passion. I love anything zombie and write mostly zombie novels as well. Please rate my stories and let me know what you think! This helps me to become a better writer and improve my skills! Feel free to contact me on facebook or Myspace. I love meeting new people.

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Heavenly Falling

By Bridget Squires

Copyright 2011

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Bridget Squires on Smashwords

Heavenly Falling

Copyright © 2011 by Bridget Squires

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Cover Art By Laurie Ricard

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It’s cold outside tonight even though I cannot feel it. I can tell by the way they huddle in their jackets, covering themselves as if the chill will simply pass over their bodies without effect. The goose bumps snake along their exposed skin, sneaking under the gaps the fabric has neglected to properly close together and spreading throughout their bodies. They shiver, and then study their surroundings cautiously as if sensing my presence. Their hearts steady beat slows, as if it too is listening for some sort of sound, some sort of absentee warning as to why the feeling of being watched has washed over them like rain from the heavens. The gargoyle that I am perched upon is not exactly an ideal shelter from their eyes, but there is little they can do to escape now; they have come too far to turn back, human stubbornness at its best, I suppose.

The female gazes at the male, as if his eyes will answer the question burning in her soul, the question that at any moment will leave those over painted, pursed lips. Are we lost Edgar? The voice quivers slightly, as if on the verge of tears, like deep within the body knows that at any moment the life within her will be depleted and the body left vacant. Enough of the patience game, time to monopolize on the opportunity at hand and be done with it. As I drop from the building, the wind blows my hair up into a twisted crown the color of charcoal. The lightweight button down clinging to my torso flaps slightly, the skirt around my waist raises— small shorts covering where I should be exposed. The pavement hits hard against my body, flattening my form to its surface as if forcing me to pray to the gravity it utilizes to advantage.

The heels of the pumps that reside on my delicate feet snap, as I set upon the female with such fury that there is almost no sound able to escape her lips before I bury my face into her jugular vein. The male, with little options left, turns face and makes a run for it. What a gentleman, I can't help but think. Leave this one behind while you rescue yourself, selfish maggot. Within seconds the female is done, at least until I can return and have a proper meal. The male runs thru the leaves, crunching loudly with each footfall, so much for a stealthy retreat; this one might as well have a honing beacon under the skin. Catching (well not even catching would be the appropriate word since there is no effort in the act at all) and making him mine, takes only seconds. While I deprive him of his life, draining him of his memories and his blood, I feel a tingling sensation as the warmth of his essence coats my innards. When there's nothing left to feast upon, I return to the female and finish my task. Once done, I stalk off, the thirst satisfied for now, but it will return, it always returns. The last act is to mumble to myself Shit, I broke a heel as I retreat into the night.

I am not what you’re thinking, although I bear some similarities to this creature mankind fabricated. I am not a vampire and the mere implication causes anger inside me to swell and grow until, like the beast of hell, I find myself growling through clenched teeth. Vampires, those silly little romanticized vermin with their hearts worn on their sleeves and poor moral character are pathetic. Vampires are not real, yet humans fancy my likeness to these impostors simply because we two are alike since they created images for us both. The fact is what these humans developed into the ideal of vampires actually started out as a true blue creature, my kind, but years of manipulation in the story has blurred the imagery. Humans perceive vampires as ones who drink blood to survive and shy from the daylight as well as leaving bite marks in victim’s necks. Some strange sexy creation to make women swoon and men envy. This is simply imbecilic. I mean honesty, think about it long and hard. Are you telling me that nobody has EVER in all history connected that these falsified vampire victims simply don’t exist? How many humans are found with huge gaping holes in their necks each day? The answer: none.

My bite leaves no traces behind; consider this one of the few gifts I have left. After I am done, the marks disappear leaving no evident cause of death. My victims (but I wouldn't call them victims because I am higher than them to begin with) are more often than not declared as having died from fright. As for the sunlight, I feel neither hot