Angel's Fall

By Shéa MacLeod

"Angel's Fall has everything you love and crave about paranormal romance: addicting swoon, edge-of-your-seat angst, and a leading guy who leaves you breathless. This story left me DESPERATE for more and impatiently waiting for that telltale whisper that Raphael was close. I'm still waiting . . . should I challenge you again, Ms. MacLeod? WELL DONE! You put the WOO into SWOON!" – Belinda Boring, Author of Mystic Wolves

“The moment our eyes locked something passed between us. Something far deeper than anything I’d ever known. It was as if she marked me. Made me hers. Forever.”

As a guardian angel, Raphael has one duty: Protect his charge. Anything more is forbidden and love holds the direst consequences of all. But the day he meets his new assignment, Sarah, he finds himself willing to risk everything for just one touch.

“You saved me,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

A look I couldn’t describe crossed his face. “Always.”

After escaping from an abusive relationship, Sarah is barely holding on. Then she begins to hear the voice, feel the touch, of a man who isn’t there. A man who, for a short time, makes her forget her pain. Maybe losing her sanity isn’t so bad after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sunwalker Press
• Release date: Oct 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519962959

Shéa MacLeod

Author of the international best selling paranormal series, Sunwalker Saga. Native of Portlandia. Addicted to lemon curd and Ancient Aliens.

Book preview

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Angel's Fall

Shéa MacLeod

SW Logo

Angel's Fall

Text copyright © 2015 Shéa MacLeod

Printed in the United States of America.

All rights reserved.

Cover Art by Amanda Kelsey of Razzle Dazzle Designs

Editing by Theo Fenraven

Formatted by PyperPress

The right of Shéa MacLeod to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons either living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

With great thanks to Belinda Boring who dared me to write something swoony.

And, as always, to the host of people who help me bring the stories in my head to life. From brainstorming to editing and everything in between. You know who you are and you know you rock.

And also thanks to Geeks With Keyboards. Sprinting has never been such fun.

Dedication

For A.

Who inspires me in more ways that I could have ever dreamed.

Prologue

Raphael

I died thousands of years before you were born.

When I entered Heaven, they gave me a new name, a new identity. With it I lost all memory of who I was before.

My name is Raphael.

No. Not that one. Not the archangel. I am a little lower than he. But that is my name, and I am a member of the Heavenly Host.

Angels are not supposed to remember their former lives. They're not supposed to feel human emotion. They're not supposed to fall in love. All that is in the past, buried beneath layers of angelic redemption, gone with our physical bodies.

But something happened. Something that made me remember what it is to be human.

She is to blame.

Though how could I ever blame her? It is truly my fault. I am the one who fell. And with falling comes the threat of eternal damnation, a danger I'm willing to face for just one touch of her lips on mine.

Chapter 1

Sarah

Knuckles turned white around the hilt of the butcher knife. My only defense. My only weapon. What I wouldn't give for a cast iron skillet right about now.

Breath heaved in and out of my lungs, flaring my nostrils like a racehorse. My heart thudded hard against my ribcage like a trapped bird. I was half afraid it might pound right out of my chest as terror clawed at my insides.

I closed my eyes and pressed my back to the closet door. I wanted to rush inside and hide, but I knew if I did, I'd be trapped. That would be the end of it. Over, done. I'd be dead.

Wiping a sweaty palm against the leg of my jeans, I strained for a sound. Any sound. Was he close? Had he found me?

Oh, God, I can't go through this again. I can't face him again.

I straightened my shoulders.

Get it together, Sarah. Yes you can. You don't have a choice. You are stronger than you know.

Okay, I can do this, I muttered under my breath, shifting my grip on the knife hilt. I swept a lock of brown hair out of my eyes and stiffened my spine.

I took one tentative step, then another. Before I knew it, I'd crossed the darkened bedroom and opened the door to the hall. My bare feet silent on the hardwood floors, I slipped toward the stairs leading to the main floor. I stopped to listen, ears straining in the silent night.

Nothing. Not so much as a rustle. Had I imagined it?

I glanced at the knife, still clutched so tightly in my hand. I wished for something bigger, badder. Like a