Satan Jack invites you to come…and indulge yourself in his journey to save the angel he loves. After running Hell for over a thousand years, one foul-mouthed Seraph has changed his end game.
Even if it means destroying the universe, Jack refuses to give up on his woman. He didn’t know what love was until Emma’s skin pressed against his, the addiction to any of his other vices paling in comparison. Jack has never been a fearful man, but he gets it now. Fear comes when you have something to lose. Or someone.
“Your boyfriend’s back, Missie. You look lovely tonight. Drink this wine; it’s spicy and deep. Much like yourself. That drip on your bottom lip looks delicious. May I taste it? Do you like when I ask or would you prefer I just take?
Dirty girl, I knew you’d want it rough. Look how soft your skin is. I think I could just taste every little bit. I believe a night between us is long overdue. I’ve learned a new trick. My smoke can travel all over you, touching any place that craves me. Right now? It’s your neck so I’ll let the smoke slide under your clothes.
I have only one request before I toss you onto that bed. I need to know where Debra Anastasia is. She owes me…something. Why do you press your lips together? Is it because I’m Satan? Does giving me what I ask for make you feel guilty?
Debra deserves anything she gets. She took my foul-mouthed angel from me. And you know how long ago that was. All this time I’ve waited. I’ve been patient. Now she won’t tell me how the sequel ends, only the title. Bittersweet Seraphim? That tells me exactly nothing. If the title gave some hint of victory I might be less vicious with her.
But enough about my needs. Come to me, Missie. Let me pull your hair off your shoulders and kiss your neck until you purr. Let my smoke shackle you to my bed, that way when the pleasure overcomes you, I’ll be able to…push you further than you’ve ever gone.
Just one whispered word about where she is and then we’ll get started.”
~Jack
Suffering is worst when you’re doing it alone. But Emma’s taking Hell like an angel—even though her languishing began with having her seraph wings torn from her back. Now her worst enemy lords his body and his evil desires over her while she tries desperately to remember the words to her favorite prayer.
As Devil, Jack used to have Hell and its women humming like well-oiled machines. Too bad he’s nowhere near the place now. Stuck on Earth as a human, he must work with a ragtag team of exiled minions and half-breeds to save the angel who’s become all that matters.
Rescuing a seraph is the plan, but breaking into Hell means letting evil things out. Once they collide, minions and angels converge in the battle of the ages: good versus evil. But which side is which? Will Jack destroy the world as he fights to save Emma, his true and timeless love, from a damnation he designed?
An action-packed sequel to Crushed Seraphim, this tale reveals—time and again—what happens when the heart’s deepest desires break free. With a story both sizzling and sensual, emotional and enigmatic, Debra Anastasia invites readers to join a battle with nothing less than love on the line.
If I didn’t want to jump his bones so badly, I’d want him as a brother because underneath his hard core exterior Beckett Taylor, of Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia, is a teddy bear… one I’d like to cuddle up with. I seriously haven’t been able to stop thinking about Beckett, and that is why even though I read the book weeks ago, he’s my book boyfriend today!
Beckett Taylor
described as huge, muscular and handsome
runs his office out of an old abandoned mall
older brother to Cole and Blake, and is very protective of them
has the same tattoo as his brothers: a knife, a music note, and a cross intertwined
will probably kill me for revealing this information
Beckett looked down for a moment, then eyed her with absolute fury. He gripped the edge of the desk. “I’ve done my best to make sure my brothers have no blood on their hands,” he said with menacing quiet. “Do you know what it’s like to age out of the foster care system? I had no one. No one except Cole and Blake.” He stood and angrily swiped everything off his desk into a heap on the floor. He rushed to grab her by the arms. The bar towel fell to the ground. “Pretty, pampered Livia wants to lie with the dogs. I take it you’re some sort of expert? I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told a soul.”
Livia felt oddly calm. She recognized this Beckett — the one who’d begged her to protect Blake’s heart.
“I hit the streets first. So I knew what we were in for. I’m not a smart guy, but I can read a situation. To live in this world without a dime or a pot to piss in, you have to sell your soul or your body.”
~Beckett, Poughkeepsie
My Book Boyfriend is a weekly meme, hosted here. To find out more, check out the introduction post. To show off your fictional boyfriend link your MBB post below. DIRECT links only.
Attention: There will be no MBB link up next week because I’ll be out of town on vacation. MBB will resume on January 4th, 2012.
Yikes! Where did November go? I didn’t realize I had a backlog of reviews I needed to get out, so I decided to throw them together for a quickie. Hope y’all don’t mind.
Stories like The Iron Knight make me wish I was a review writing ninja, so then I could actually write something more profound than, THIS BOOK IS EPIC!
I never imagined that a journey I began back in April 2010 would lead to this. Yes, I knew that Ash, the former Winter Prince of the Unseelie Court, had a dark, destructive past, but to read about it from his account was heart breaking. Hearing about evil and seeing evil are two very different things. But, as much as it pained me to read about his past transgressions, I’m glad I got to see this other side of him. He has overcome a lot, and this book, his story, is a reflection of that.
The only thing I kept asking myself is, “Where’s Meghan?” She was notably absent for much of the tale, and when you’ve grown accustomed to relating this series with her, as I have, then it’s kind of weird not having her around. Secondary characters were loads of fun, and now I’m hoping for a Puck story.
Beautiful story about how powerful love is and how it can heal from the outside in and from the inside out. Though I have to say, it’s extremely odd? uncomfortable? awkward? to have crude and crass humor juxtapositioned against religious themes. While I admire Anastasia’s ability to push the boundaries in this regard, it was difficult to follow the abrupt changes in mood. And, though I really liked some of the heavy, darker bits of the story and absolutely reveled in the lighter, humorous bits, the constant switching of mindsets and POVs was taxing.
Still, however misplaced it may have seemed at times, the comical witticisms were definitely a welcome reprieve. At almost 400 pages, Poughkeepsie is a rather intense and compelling read. The interwoven stories of each character were very detailed and well developed. As each character slowly revealed information about their past, their tie to one another became more prominent. The story ended up reminding me a lot of the movie, CRASH.
I just wish the ‘bad’ stuff that happened wasn’t so excessive/extreme. There was enough of a story to tell about a homeless man finding love without adding more drama in the mix.
As the constant target of ridicule, Arianna Weller isn’t exactly thrilled to be paired up with the hottest guy in school, Evan Drake, for a science fair project (Really? Seniors in High School still have to do Science Fair project? I thought that was a grade school thing. *shrugs*), and Evan is even less so. Doing their best to work with the situation, they decide to try to be friends…until Evan begins to see Anna in a different light.
Usually, I love stories about underdogs prevailing, especially if the story is about a girl with a little meat on her bones. But, my biggest issue with Fourteen was I couldn’t find any redeeming qualities in Anna. She introduced herself as a girl who didn’t understand why the kids at school were so mean to her just because she’s overweight and not exactly good looking. But before you get the chance to feel sorry for her or think her confidence has long been buried in the dumpster, she’s off yelling in your face.
All I can say is poor Evan. I couldn’t get why he completely changed his life for Anna. After getting to know her, I felt more likely to befriend someone who kicks puppies for a living than her. Everything about her attitude was unappealing and juvenile. Usually, in stories like this, if the protag is unattractive, another enduring quirk of hers will quickly appear to act as a counter balance, like ‘she’s so sweet’ or ‘she’s so funny’, but, unfortunately, Anna was neither.
Or maybe I’m just not hip enough to know that teens don’t laugh anymore. I’ve been watching that show Suburgatory and that chick Dalia never even cracks a smile. Sure, in high school you expect some melodrama, but dang! You’re only young once, right? Why be so moody, kiddos? Take it from this grandma, laugh/love/live it up while you still can because soon your chuckles will sound like cackles and your face will be too exhausted and droopy to smile.
Fourteen is eerily similar to The DUFF by Kody Keplinger (which I loved), expect that Anna lacks Bianca’s snark and Evan fails to be as charming as Wesley Rush.
He may be homeless, but Blake Hartt of Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia has the most beautiful soul of any guy I’ve ever met. Despite the fact that his childhood was not a happy one, Blake is loving and fiercely loyal to those he cares for most. His past may have left him vulnerable and fragile, but it did not break him. He has a quiet bravery about him that’s the perfect blend of sweet and sexy.
Blake Hartt:
green eyes, dark blonde hair, over 6 feet tall
he’s a pianist, sometimes plays on a cardboard piano
has 2 brothers, Beckett & Cole. They all have matching tattoos on their forearm of a knife, a music note, and a cross intertwined.
aged out of foster care system
“No one has really seen me in years.” Blake looked at the sky. “Sometimes I wonder how they know I don’t have a home. I try to dress decently.” He waved a hand at his jeans and army jacket. “I think it just seeps out of me. I’m not the same as everyone else.” He shook his head, his eyes reflecting a weary despair. As he looked at Livia again, the despair was chased away with a grin. “But when you saw me for the first time, you actually saw me. You saw me, and then you smiled like I was just the same as everyone else on that platform.”
“Have you ever seen a shooting star, Livia?”
She nodded, perplexed at the change in conversation.
“It’s very beautiful, right?” He nodded with her this time. “It makes you wonder — is that shooting star just a happy accident or has the universe had it planned for a thousand years?” He tilted his face to the sky, his eyes tracking an imaginary star as it screamed to earth. He looked back to her. “Either way, you can’t stop it. You can beg it to slow down or you can just enjoy the show.”
“Am I the star in this story or you?”
Blake wrinkled his nose and chuckled. “Was that a bad analogy? I meant we’re the star, Livia. Us. This.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Us being in the same atmosphere is either a great cosmic catastrophe or the most serendipitous rendezvous.”
How it works: One MBB Participant, Every Week in November, Wins a Book of Their Choice, In Any Format (hardcover, paperback, e-book, audiobook) of Their Choice as long as it's available in their area, From This List: My Book Boyfriends! Based on a majority vote, all participants are only allowed to win once.
As part of the Poughkeepsie Comes Home Tour, I’m very honored to host an author I truly admire, Debra Anastasia. Going home for the holidays means something a little different for everyone. Today, Debra shares what it means to her.
The holidays officially start for my family on the drive up to Thanksgiving. We go to my in-law’s house in Rhinebeck, NY. My mother-in-law makes the kitchen her bitch. The woman can cook. Actually, when she comes to my place, I make her cook here, too. So our Thanksgiving is delicious and traditional.
We also put the holiday music on for the ride. Before then feels like cheating. That starts the Holiday season. In my house we celebrate Hanukah and Christmas. Except this year –we’re not in our house.
Way back in August, Hurricane Irene hit our part of Maryland. During that long, scary storm, a huge oak tree destroyed my house. We were inside when it hit. My husband ran the kids over to the neighbor’s house as I tried to pack in a few minutes what might be the only things we got to take with us. The tree was enormous and the roof was creaking. In hindsight I shouldn’t have stayed at all.
But those few minutes really highlighted how many things I didn’t need. I made sure my grandmother’s engagement ring was on my hand and my wedding rings were on the other. I needed a bra. I grabbed the kids’ clothes and their two favorite toys.
When my husband came back to help me with our animals, I had garbage bags holding what I could think of and I could reach in the dark house. It wasn’t a lot.
Now, months later, I sit in an apartment with rented furniture. The insurance will be knocking down my house, re-pouring the cracked foundation and rebuilding. Having that done? Takes a lot of paperwork and tons of time, in case you’re wondering.
The experience has taught me so much. What matters, which I thought I had a real grip on before the storm, became even more apparent. My children, husband, and even my animals are all I need. Getting us sensible shelter in the turbulent time was my priority, not the furniture and belongings that were chucked into a big dumpster in my driveway.
So I know I have so much to be thankful for this season and Christmas will be just a shadow of the elaborate traditions we had in the past. But I know we’ll appreciate it even more.
I’m not afraid to say I liked having a pile of gifts for the kids to open under the tree in past years. But this Christmas? I don’t feel that urgency. I just have to close my eyes and hear the noise in my head of the tree hitting the house and I can’t imagine a better gift for any of us than just having each other.
On November 22nd my novel Poughkeepsie was published. It’s about a homeless man who falls in love with a girl that dares to love him back. The irony of not having a house and the subject matter of a story I wrote some time ago is not lost on me. In the end, my goal with the story and my goal with my daily life is the same, to remember what matters most. If you have all your people, don’t let a day get away without remembering to cherish them.
A huge thanks to my sweet friend Missie for the opportunity to share my thoughts with you today. Let me know what you cherish most in the comments. I hope you have an amazing Holiday; I know I’m planning on a great one.
He counts her smiles every day and night at the train station. And morning and evening, the beautiful commuter acknowledges him—just like she does everyone else on the platform. But Blake Hartt is not like the others . . . he’s homeless. Memories of a broken childhood have robbed him of peace and twisted delusions into his soul. He stays secluded from the sun, sure the world would run from him in the harsh light of day.
Each day, Livia McHugh smiles politely and acknowledges her fellow commuters as she waits for the train to the city. She dismisses this kindness as nothing special, just like her. She’s the same as a million other girls—certainly no one to be cherished. But special or not, she smiles every day, never imagining that someone would rely on the simple gesture as if it were air to breathe.
When the moment comes that Livia must do more than smile, without hesitation she steps into the fray to defend the homeless man. And she’s surprised to discover an inexplicable connection with her new friend. After danger subsides, their smiles become conversation. Their words usher in a friendship, which awakens something in each of them. But it’s not long before their bond must prove its strength. Entanglements from the past challenge both their love and their lives.
Blake’s heart beats for Livia’s, even if her hands have to keep its rhythm. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love never fails. Love never fails, right?
In an interwoven tale of unlikely loves and relationships forged by fire, Debra Anastasia takes readers into the darkest corners of human existence, only to show them the radiant power of pure adoration and true sacrifice. Complicated families and confused souls find their way to light in this novel, which manages to be racy, profane, funny, and reverent all at once.
Bittersweet Seraphim
