Love conquers all . . . but can it stop the Apocalypse?
EXCERPT Seal Of Destiny:
Kagan reclined against a streetlight across from The G Spot, hidden in shadow while observing the line now snaking down the block. Brutal frigid air smacked him in the face and he huddled inside his wool coat. For all its appeal, the Windy City was too far on the polar side for his taste. A century living in the remote Tuscan countryside had transformed the ancient Latin of his mortal Roman life into a fluent tide of Italian and rekindled his love of the sun and sand and heat. Chicago lacked all of the above. Here chill invaded his bones and people struggled with his accent. Kagan was now a man without a country, without a home. He ignored the slow burn of loneliness eating at his gut and flipped up the collar of his coat, squinting through watery eyes at the gathered.
The weather didn’t seem to affect the odd assortment of people waiting to enter the non-descript club attached to the liquor store. Mini-skirted women with no coats at all flirted with the bouncer and guys in the latest designer hip-hop wear talked on their cell phones. Goth rockers waited next to men in suits who’d finished up a hard day on the financial markets while the ever-present college horde laughed and carried on, out to party.
Kagan shuffled to increase his circulation and surveyed his target. Whatever he’d expected, Mira Herald wasn’t it. Though difficult to see exact details, her legs dangling high off the ground from atop the not so lofty perch of her stool hinted at a petite frame. Otherwise the girl remained a complete mystery, well barricaded within her voluminous outfit. No, voluminous was too polite a description. The mass of fabric surrounding her was nothing short of a circus-tent monstrosity — all fun-house shapes and baggy clown flounces. Except for her feet. The shapeless jeans were shoved deep inside a pair of boots more inclined to kick some ass than walk away.
Suspicion niggled as he eyed her footwear. This target may not prove as easy to secure as he’d first anticipated. Merda! Kagan’s gloved hands bunched and the wind howled. The fact he’d practically begged for a summons, any summons, did nothing to improve his temper. Divinity’s words echoed in his head. The most important summons of your career. Kagan snorted, kicking ice chunks down the curb with his frozen toes. Not likely.
A gust caught the edge of his target’s craterous hood and tipped it backward. Chestnut curls tumbled out in riotous chaos. The long strands blew wild, and his mind dredged up a line from a favorite Yeats poem: Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams. Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round. Kagan shook his head and snorted. Cristo! He was getting senile. A strange tingle drifted through his gut and his lips pursed. Not the buzz of another immortal. Something different. Odd.
About the author:
Traci is an active member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), Indiana Romance Writers of America (IRWA) and Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal Writers (FF&P) and is pursing a Masters of Fine Arts degree in Writing Popular Fiction through Seton Hill University. Her stories have made the final rounds in several RWA chapter contests, including the 2012 Duel on the Delta, the 2012 Molly Awards, and the 2012 Catherine Awards. An earlier draft of Seal of Destiny won the paranormal category of the 2012 Marlene Awards sponsored by the Washington Romance Writers.
Other current projects include upcoming books in the Seven Seals series and a new futuristic suspense series with hints of the paranormal and plenty of romance.
She loves hearing from readers! Connect with Traci here:
2 comments:
Thanks so much for having me on your site today! :)
Love this series! Thank you, Traci!
-R.T. Wolfe
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