Ciara Miller was born the same as others, but she got a little something extra. On her 14th birthday she learned she was a Word Speaker, someone who could create life from stories. Her gift is incomplete until her 27th birthday, before then all she can create is things she, and others like her can see. Evil wants her gift as well and the characters she choses to create become her Guardians against the unseen attackers that want to use her skill.
Stryder is a demon, created to be a backup plan for the Horseman of the Apocalypse, War. Since the day he learned he was nothing more than pawn he and his brothers had been seeking a way to betray hell and fight on the side of the angels. His world is torn apart again when he finds out he's nothing more than a story and given the option to protect a human female, Ciara, or die.
Ciara hates Stryder for replacing her former Guardian. But she cannot deny the lust and connection that rocked through her every time they touch. She could deny it all she wanted, but she belonged to Stryder and when they find themselves thrown into a war bigger than them both she must choose between her reality bound heart and her fantasy bound soul to save them.
“How did you do that?” No one from the books could touch her if she was paying attention to them. Her guard had to be down in order for them to be able to reach across the plane, even those attacking needed her to be distracted for a doorway to open and allow them through. Or she had to be over with them. But she had been staring right at him as he’d walking towards her. Shoot, she’d even been thinking about how much she didn’t want him to pick her up and locked her eyes with his. And then he’d been holding her and she was infuriated.
Not hearing an answer or feeling him let go she looked up at him and a second gasp pushed past her lips. The intensity in his eyes was enough to kindle a small flame and he was looking at her. She thought about shifting her position and putting their bodies in better alignment to deal with the heat passing between them.
Realizing what was happening as she began to shift her weight she just stopped struggling again. There was no way in hell her body was doing this just a few hours after saying goodbye to the longest relationship of her life and after Alcott was torn from her by this very man. That she could even not be completely irritated and disgusted by his presence annoyed her. Or maybe that was the explanation, why it was all happening. Loneliness.
A low, raspy voice that sounded more like a growl brushed over her ear. “Sweetheart, the only thing I know is that if you move again, fuck if I don’t put you down, you and I are going to end up in that bed of yours.” She couldn’t do anything but stare into his eyes. She thought if she stared hard enough they were solid back, soulless and empty.
His rant made sense. Sure he was ranting at her like some barbarian, but wasn't he kind of that? Sure the concept was he was more than a demon, more than a solider cursed to do the bidding of heaven and hell to stop the apocalypse from coming too soon, But he was still a man bred for war. She found herself watching him as he spoke, staring at the lines on his face, at the intensity radiating out of his eyes at her and she sure as heck hadn't ignored the huge bulge in his pants when he moved the pillow to throw the sweatshirt at her. When he finished talking at her she narrowed her eyes, at herself for how she was undressing him and with her eyes and jumping into bed with him in her mind. This couldn't keep happening. Would it be happening if she was with Derrick? She had a feeling the answer was yes. She didn't feel in control of her emotions towards him, whether she wanted to admit them or not.
"I would love to say thank you for the apology but it would appear you are readily slipping into the barbarian that the author of your novel would have me believe you and your brothers are not." He looked at her, opened his mouth and closed it. "Clearly whoever this epic man is that explains the rules to you all is wrong. I was with Alcott for eleven years with no more than a teens crush on the man. Sex does not have to be apart of the equation. Alcott never minded so if you're going to perhaps I can find another Guardian, a female warrior must exist that I can connect with." He had walked over to her and her eyes had latched onto the bulge behind his zipper, and it had nothing to do with the fact that it was eye level with her.
"Sweetheart in case you missed it Alcott is gone. Whatever you two were doing wasn't right. Newsflash." He must have realized where she was looking because he chuckled, a low and sensual sound that had the hair on her arms rising as well as her temperature. "For being so disgusted and annoyed with me you have yielded to me quite sensually and if the look of hunger in your eyes is any indication you're not so immune. "His hand went to his zipper." I had intention of not doing the opposite of this but if you're going to look at me like that you better finish the job."
She swallowed at his words and somehow managed to shake her head no. She reached out and placed her hand over his."I'm a female, not dead. You're the playboy the book made you out to be, I can't help it. But I am not going there." She rose and grabbed a photo of her and Derrick off the nightstand. "I've done wrong choosing men before with him, he was a wonderful guy but not the right one for me. So excuse me if I don't immediately bow down to want my hormones want.”
His smirk made her want to punch him in the face.
"If that is what you wish to think I will leave you to your delusions for now. But we do need to discuss this and honestly woman if I have to say it again you're going to dislike me more than you already do."
Her laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. Full flown hysteria that made absolutely no sense. A week had passed and her entire life had flip flopped upside and here she was clutching her stomach and dying of laughter. She couldn't open her mouth long enough to apologize or her eyes long enough to see through the tears.
"I come from a family of nitwits and I fail to see the humor in the threat offered to you by a horsemen's second." She was trying to wipe the tears from her eyes and catch her breath at the same time. Unsuccessful attempts occurred for about three more minutes until she was finally calm.
Lexi Ostrow has been in love with the written word since second grade when her librarian started a writing club. Born in sunny southern California she's spent time in various places across the country and can't wait to settle down somewhere in the French Quarter when she's able too.
Lexi has been a writer ever since the second grade in some form or another. Getting her degree in creative writing and her master's in journalism she couldn't wait to get a chance to put her fantasies down on paper. Her debut novel, Torn Between Two Worlds is something that was simmering in her mind since middle school and she's so grateful to put it out into the literary world. From paranormal romance to thriller there isn't a genre she doesn't love to spend her time reading or writing.
Reading and writing are her first loves but her passion for shopping, love for yummy food and her love for all her many pets. She hopes to one day help other readers fall in love with writing as she did.
Say hi to Lexi:
Twitter – http://twitter.com/lexiostrow
For a chance to win a signed print copy (to be distributed when it is released) please comment below by September 5th, 2014 with who you would chose:
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