Daman's Angel


Daman Quade wants to die, but when he does an angel rescues him – an angel who doesn’t remember who she is or what she was doing in that dark alley. All Daman knows is that he should be dead and the angel shouldn’t be alive on earth. Daman wants to help the angel return to her place in the otherworlds and enlists the help of Father Joseph. They discover that Angel has to returned by a flesh and blood sacrifice in three days or she is doomed to walk the earth until the end of time, neither angel nor human.


Daman is torn, knowing he must be the sacrifice to save Angel and wanting to live and love again in the one chance of life Angel has given him. Angel has a very big secret. She has fallen in love with Daman. Now that she is flesh and blood, her physical attraction is all-consuming. She doesn’t want to go back. She wants to become human, to live and love as a mortal woman. And she wants Daman at her side until death do them part. But that might be earlier than she thinks.


Daman must survive otherworldly demons and death itself to claw his way back to a life where they both can be together. But after all that – will Angel’s secret prove too much to overcome?

“You took a bullet for me. I should be dead. Those men were going to shoot me, but you came out of nowhere and saved me.”


“Then I am thankful,” she said.


“Thankful! That’s not the word I would have found if I were in your position.”


“But…you live. Do you want to die?”


He barked a laugh. A guttural sound. “Sometimes I do. Hell, I would have welcomed it last night. But here I am alive and well, with my personal angel in my bed. What did I do to deserve that?”


“People often don’t know the good they do.”


“I don’t do ‘good’. I do ‘get-even’. That’s what I was trying to do last night before it went wrong. Get even. Then you came and I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about you.”


He stood. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips as he stooped, clutching his side.


“You’re hurt,” she said.


She stood, placing her hands on his sides, feeling for the pain. She concentrated on taking the pain away. Her mind probed his body, finding broken bones and bruising. She wished it to heal, sent her thoughts into her body and waited for the cells to listen and repair. Heat permeated from her thought, through the muscles, to the very marrow of his bones. Her hands heated as his body listened. He grasped her hands, tried to pry them away, but she held onto him. His gaze met hers. Locked. He was trapped with her hands and her gaze.


The heat receded. She took the pain with her until there was no more heat. No more pain. She dropped her hands. He gasped, pulled his shirt upwards so that he could see his side. The bruising was completely gone. He touched his skin. His ribs had healed.


He returned his gaze to her. “How did you do that?”


“I just thought…and it was. It is natural for me.”


He took her hand, ran the pad of his thumb over the open palm. She was snared in an all-powerful urge to touch, to explore. It came from nowhere, quick and heady and all consuming. As though she had felt these things before. That he had done this to her and she had liked it.

He raised her hand to his mouth, pressed her knuckles against lips. Gentle pressure. ‘What are you doing?’


 “I…I’m kissing your hand.” He frowned. He gazed at her hand, eyes growing introverted.


“Why do you do that?”


“I…don’t know.” He raised his eyes to hers. The words were slow, as though he were trying to work out why he still held her hand so close to his mouth. He seemed to be as affected by their closeness as she was.


She couldn’t take her eyes from him. She was hypnotized; her mind filled with a deep, unfulfilled yearning that she couldn’t name. She only knew it was as real as the man she still held in her arms.


She was caught in a spell together with him, as though the same temptation pulled the both of them together. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She held trembling fingertips to her mouth, absently rubbing her lips. It was as though she knew how his lips felt on hers. How soft they were, how he tasted. Masculine and beyond temptation. As though it were right and wrong all at the same time. How well they moved together. How she could lose herself in his touch. She swayed towards him. Strong arms held her steady while her body trembled from within.


Her gaze moved to his. He watched her carefully, intently. Something shifted in the depths and he moved away from her, confusion laced the heat. He ploughed his fingers through his hair.


“Why do you move away?” she asked.


“Because men like me don’t kiss angels like you.”