The Angel at the Top of My Tree

By Linda Mooney

After purchasing a beautiful and unique antique angel tree topper, Marq North is excited to gift it to his long-time girlfriend, but he should've known she appreciates a bigger price tag more than sentimental value. Why has he wasted years of his life trying to buy her love? When she tells him she's ending their relationship right before the holidays, he's almost…relieved.

 

Ione and her fellow archangels are used to the rise in demonic activity during Samhain, but at Christmas? That is a surprise to them all. Yet it seems more and more people are focusing on the greed and commercialism these days rather than the real reason for the season. And the demons plan to take advantage of mankind's vulnerability and overtake as many mortals as possible this time of year. It's up to Ione and Heaven's best protectors to save every valuable soul.

 

He'd swear he saw her literally fall from the sky, to find her injured and vulnerable. After Marq rescues her, he discovers she's the spitting image of the angel doll. She says her name is Ione, and claims to be an archangel. After he offers her a place of safety in order to recover, he finds she's become jaded through the years, which has him determined to have her see that it's not greed, but the love of giving that makes this time of year special.

 

Despite knowing she must return to Heaven, or risk drawing the demons' wrath to Marq, Ione wants to remain with her rescuer, but she must let him go to save his life as he did hers. After all, a relationship between a mortal and a celestial being would never work.

 

Or can it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Mooney
• Release date: Dec 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781953797032

Linda Mooney

Linda loves to write sensuously erotic romance with a fantasy, paranormal, or science fiction flair. Her technique is often described as being as visual as a motion picture or graphic novel. A wife, mother, grandmother, and retired Kindergarten and music teacher, she lives in a small south Texas town near the Gulf coast where she delves into other worlds filled with daring exploits, adventure, and intense love. She has numerous best sellers, including 10 consecutive #1s. In 2009, she was named Whiskey Creek Press Torrid's Author of the Year, and her book My Strength, My Power, My Love was named the 2009 WCPT Book of the Year. In 2011, her book Lord of Thunder was named the Epic Ebook "Eppie" Award Winner for Best Erotic Sci-Fi Romance. In addition, she write naughty erotic romances under the name of Carolyn Gregg, and horror under the pseudonym of Gail Smith. For more information about Linda Mooney books and titles, and to sign up for her newsletter, please visit her website. http://www.LindaMooney.com

Book preview

Chapter One

Antiques

Marq North spotted the roadside billboard advertising Mangrove’s Antique Barn. Over 1 million antiques! We’ll dicker! Open Monday thru Saturday 9:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m. Café on site! The turnoff was a quarter of a mile up the highway.

He checked the dashboard clock. He’d been on the road since one-thirty, and it was almost five. He was more than ready for a break to stretch his legs, grab a bite to eat, and perhaps add a tome or two to his collection.

He took the exit and followed the winding two-lane asphalt road to the large structure sitting adjacent to a corn field. Less than a dozen cars were parked on the blacktop when he pulled up, which he was happy to see. It was a lot more enjoyable for him to be able to browse when he didn’t have to contend with a crowd.

If I’m really lucky, I might find something here I can get Nancie for Christmas. He had to admit it wishful thinking. Nancie’s taste in gift receiving either had to be set in gold, or boasting an expensive designer label. Fortunately, he had the type of job that, if he watched his pennies, enabled him to spoil her. But this year he wanted to get her something different. Something unique, as well as beautiful. Why in the world he believed he’d be successful at an antiques barn, he had no idea, but stranger things have happened. Besides, that wasn’t the real reason why he’d decided to stop in.

Hello! Welcome to Mangrove’s Antique Barn! a clerk behind a counter greeted him. Are you looking for anything in particular?

Marq glanced at her nametag. Hi, Angela. I’m particularly interested in old books, like first editions, but not necessarily. Are those located in any one area?

Sorry, no. These stalls are individually owned. You’ll have to check them out one at a time, she apologized.

Not a problem. Can you point me toward the café?

Her face brightened. Sure thing! Go down this aisle here. It’s at the very end. You can’t miss it.

He thanked her and headed in that direction, where he also discovered the restrooms adjacent to the western-themed bistro. After taking advantage of the facilities, he got himself a chili dog and a soft drink, and perched himself on a stool to enjoy them. Since he wasn’t in any rush to get home, he could take all the time he wanted here. It had been a while since he’d had the luxury, and he was going to take advantage of it.

He used the restroom again to wash the chili off his hands before hitting the showroom floor. If he planned on handling old books, he didn’t want to leave any stains or marks on them.

The majority of stuff on display were items he could relate to. Objects he’d used in his childhood, or things he’d seen his grandparents own when they’d been alive. That was one of the big reasons why he loved coming to places like this. It was a rare chance to walk down memory lane. To relive the good times, the olden days, and fond recollections.

He passed a stall with a bookcase that held several old-looking books. He stopped to check the spines. An early edition of The Hardy Boys caught his attention, but the price was a bit steep. Making a mental note of the stall number, he continued on.

The rear of the warehouse held mostly furniture like chifforobes, ornate headboards, secretaries, and various kitchen items including wringer washers and cold closets. Marq turned to bypass that section. Even if he found something there that intrigued him, he wouldn’t be able to get it in his car to take home. And he wasn’t in the mood to arrange for a pickup or delivery.

Ducking down past rolls of Persian carpets, he was about to bypass a wall of lowboys when his eyes landed on a doll sitting atop a Queen Anne. Lots of times a dealer will dress up a piece of furniture with an object to draw attention to it. Usually it would be a couple of books between bookends, a vase, or some knickknacks.

He paused to stare at the doll, and found himself unable to tear his gaze away from it. It was, in a word, exquisite. She was an angel, dressed in a robe of white satin, gold lace, and faux fur. A winter angel, he mused. Her pale blonde hair was arranged in long ringlets down past her waist, and a halo of gold thread was held above her head by a bit of wire.

But the most extraordinary thing about her was her face. Normally, he never paid much attention to dolls, much less their facial features. However, this one… It was almost as if it called to him.

Going over to it, he picked it up to examine. A check for the price tag didn’t reveal one, but he discovered it had legs, long, slender, and pale. The slippers were made of the same white satin as the dress.

He stared into the bright blue eyes. She looked serene. She looked happy. She looked…

I need to get this. He didn’t care how much it cost, but something inside him told him that if he didn’t take this doll home, he’d deeply regret it. Worse, if he didn’t, and later called the barn to have them ship it to him, odds were it would already be sold to someone else.

As he strode to the front of the store, he also made a detour to pick up that Hardy Boys book. Taking them to the cashier, he laid the items on the counter. The woman who’d initially greeted him finished with her current customer, then turned to him with a smile. I see you found something. When she finally looked at what he’d brought to her, her eyes widened. Oh, you found her!

Found her?

This angel. She’s a tree topper, you know.

Marq gave a quick shake of his head. No, I didn’t know. I tried to find a price tag, but I couldn’t find one.

The woman nodded as she lifted the dress. A frown creased her face. Hmm, it seems the price tag is missing, but I can show you what the owner lists it for. She turned her computer monitor around where he could see it. In the top right-hand corner she typed in a code. Marq guessed it had to be the owner’s number. Several items came up, and the clerk quickly pointed out the doll.

Angel tree topper - est. early 1900s - $150.00

He stared at the price. A hundred and fifty?

The sign on the side of the highway flashed in his mind. We’ll dicker!

I don’t suppose the owner could go a little lower, he remarked. Hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

The clerk made another face. She seemed quite adept at it. I know she’s tried to sell this at auction, but couldn’t get what she was wanting for it. Hold on a sec. Let me give her a call. By the way, if I can get her on the line, what can I tell her you’d be willing to offer?

A figure popped into his head. From where, he couldn’t fathom, but he chose to go