Eternal Autumn

By Celia McKinley

ETERNAL AUTUMN: THE FALLEN SKY #2

A five-part Dreadful Desires erotic fantasy series revolving around a post-apocalyptic war between humans and angels as royal Nephilim twins Zoe and Mahla contend with the vengeful Seraphim and seductive Watchers.

The war between humanity and the angels continues in this sequel to "Spirit of Desolation." When Zoe and Hiro lead a team to the ruins of Damascus to investigate a mysterious transmission, they discover an unearthly woman from Zoe's past, a monstrous new threat to the fabric of creation, and revelations about the sensual bond between Zoe and Almaladh's ancient guardian...

Includes a sneak preview of "Heavenly Days" and "Ama and the Octopus."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celia McKinley
• Release date: Apr 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005139926

Celia McKinley

Celia McKinley is an evocative writer of erotica and romantic fiction centered around themes of forceful seductions, sexual awakenings, and dark supernatural desire. Explicit but never crude, taboo but never degrading, her stories of sensual abandon and surrender strive to celebrate the irresistible allure of the forbidden and the beauty of sexual fantasy.

Book preview

Eternal Autumn

Dreadful Desires #10

Copyright 2022 Celia McKinley

Published by Celia McKinley at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All depicted characters are 18 years or older. This book contains explicit, taboo sex scenes that some readers may find offensive.

Table of Contents

Prologue: End of Summer

Part I: The Road to Damascus

Chapter 1: The Signal

Chapter 2: Kingdoms of the World

Chapter 3: Chavvah ha’Achronah

Chapter 4: These Mortals

Interlude: Form and Void

Part II: The Shadow of Death

Chapter 1: The Shell World

Chapter 2: Outer Dark

Chapter 3: Whom the Gods Love

Chapter 4: Hail and Farewell

Epilogue: Heaven Sent

Sneak Preview: Heavenly Days

Teaser Chapter

About Celia McKinley

Other Books by Celia McKinley

Connect with Celia McKinley

Prologue: End of Summer

On a warm gray September morning, Houston dissolved in a pillar of light.

The beltway that encircled the city formed an asphalt ring of scorched, smoking metal and broken glass, hidden behind a wafting veil of sulfur and salt. Not all of the evacuees had looked back at the destruction, perhaps not even most of them. But the ones who’d done so had left behind a briny red mist and a vehicular barrage of unguided two-ton missiles to smash through the gridlocked traffic, and, within seconds, reduced the freeway to a burning wreckage.

Beyond the outermost loop of the Grand Parkway, far from the droning trumpet blasts and searing heat, the landscape maintained a facade of normalcy. Here and there a few cars still weaved along the country roads, amid lush green fields and spindly desert willows stretching away beneath the slate-boulder clouds. A battered red pickup truck hurtled down a dirt road, splashing through mud puddles and swinging into each sharp turn; it veered across the shoulder and swerved away from the barbed-wire fence that marked the edge of the pasture to screech to a stop beneath a sprawling oak tree draped with silvery Spanish moss. The headlights flicked off, the engine fell silent, and for a long while neither of the passengers spoke.

Houston, the driver said, her voice trembling on the edge of a choked sob. The man beside her reached between the seats and took her hand; she gave his palm a tight squeeze and lifted their clasped hands to kiss his fingers and press them against her wet cheek.

Houston, he repeated. New York, Los Angeles., Chicago…

Tokyo, London, Cairo, Mumbai. They’re going right down the list, biggest to smallest.

Eagle Lake’s about an hour west of here, the passenger replied, and he rolled his head against the seat to look at her. Population three thousand. They might last a week.

Let’s try the radio again, she said with a sigh, and she placed his hand on her knee before giving the ignition switch a half-twist. Maybe there’s another announcement.

...phreowclickpopwhooshclickphrewpopwhoosh…

The two of them stared at the receiver display, the rolling string of gibberish numbers where a station listing should have been, and then listened to the whistling, popping static that pulsed through the speakers. The driver breathed a silent curse and turned the ignition back off.

Whistlers, her partner said. It’s interference from lightning bouncing all over the world, you get it on amplifiers sometimes. Dunno what it’s doing on an FM band.

Brave new world, the woman sighed. She leaned against the headrest to look over at him, to study the loose dark curls of his bangs, his hazel eyes and bronze skin, even as he took in the sight of her blonde ponytail and bright green gaze. Their clothes, stonewashed jeans and plaid flannel shirts, hadn’t been changed in days; laundry was becoming an increasingly rare luxury, more likely to involve a riverbank than a washing machine. They both rolled onto their sides to look at each other, to lay together as best they could. And then he spoke with a sly smile.

Your roots are showing. I didn’t know you dyed your hair.

Huh? she said, and she glanced up at the rear-view mirror, pulling back her bangs and examining the ginger roots peeking out between the golden strands. She studied her reflection with a deepening frown, then looked back at him. I guess so. It used to be green.

That’d be something to see. Guess you were going through a phase?

Yeah, she answered with a wistful smile. I guess I was.

He rolled his head back against the seat and stared out the windshield at the broken clouds, and then began to murmur to himself. "Numbers. Numbers, numbers, why would…

Turn on the radio, he suddenly said aloud. Summer, turn the radio back on!

Even as she fumbled with the key and flipped the ignition switch, he’d already yanked open the glove box and began flinging aside the owner’s manual, registration card, a tattered old road atlas and a few paper-wrapped drinking straws. He smoothed out a crinkled receipt, clicked open an ink pen, and began to write down each number as it streamed across the display.

...3.416111 35.8575…

"Isn’t it just