The Watchers Book 1: Dark Awakening Release date: December 2007 Publisher: Total-e-Bound Synopsis: Gadriel is a Watcher—and a Fallen Angel. Cast out of Heaven for hating humans, and for failing to bow before them, he's come to Earth to enact his vengeance upon his brothers, and an unsuspecting mortal. When a human woman enters his life, events are set in motion that neither of them can stop. For, unknown to the humans, there is a war in Heaven, a war between the faithful and the fallen that has been locked in stalemate for centuries. Gadriel alone has the power to change the tides—for either side. But does he want it? Can his desire for this human run deeper than physical lust, or has he truly fallen beyond redemption? Letter From Gadriel l Buy Now

Letter from Gadriel:

Dear Reader,

I was there when Lucifer was cast out of Heaven. I stood with my brothers and watched his fall from grace. I stood shoulder to shoulder with my brothers, my white wings proudly displayed. I was faithful once.

But now I am fallen.

I only want it like it used to be; when Heaven was ours, before the humans came. I despise the humans. When I was asked to bow before Adam and revere the new creation, I was mortified and offended. I am a creature born of fire. Adam was made of dirt.

It has been eons since I've been banished. I want to go home—but to the home I knew before the humans decided to take up space. But Heaven isn't Heaven anymore, and there is now a war; a war between brothers.

I've come to Earth. I'm seeking my vengeance. I'm waging my war against the humans. The only trouble is, one human has captured my attention. One human whom I cannot bear the thought of harming.

What is a fallen angel to do? Awaken, I suppose. But hate courses in my veins, and my desire to obliterate the mortals runs so very deep. I have no soul. I have no remorse. I cannot be stopped. But this woman—this mortal, she could stop me. She could teach me the beauty of the human soul, and the pleasures to be found in a woman's soft body.

Yet I fear my fall has destroyed me. Has taken what I once was and made me a monster, like Lucifer. I am broken. I am fallen. Yet I wonder…can this human awaken me from my darkness? Or will my fire consume her, leaving her nothing but ash and me, utterly and forever fallen, never knowing the pleasure of her lovely human flesh…

Working fast, she punctured his flesh with the needle and pulled the string through, almost disbelieving what she was doing. After a few stitches she realised how poor of a suturing job she was doing.

“This isn't going to work. You need a doctor.”

He said nothing, but reached for her hand and brought it back to the wound. He commanded her to finish with his beautiful eyes.

“It's your funeral,” she grunted, “it's going to get infected and you're probably going to die.”

Could angels die from infection and blood loss? And if they couldn't, if he wasn't in any mortal danger, then why was he demanding that she finish the job?

She waited for him to say something, but he remained silent. His expression, while intense, was unchanging. He didn't watch her work on him, instead she felt his gaze linger on her face, then she swore she felt it lower, straying to her breasts, which freely swayed in her damp T-shirt. His gaze, now feeling hotter, seemed to be fixated on them as they pressed and swayed against the white cotton. Conscious of how she must look, Nadira pulled her damp hair from its ponytail and let it free till it tumbled past her shoulders. It didn't conceal her breasts, but she hoped it would cover the rash of embarrassment that was creeping up her neck and into her face.

She heard his breath, a deep intake through his nose. Heard it again and she paused, the needle in mid air, listening to his breathing. Was he… sniffing her?

She waited and heard it again. He was definitely smelling her hair. He inched a tiny bit closer to her. She felt his breath against the skin that was bared through the vee of her T-shirt. He sniffed again, followed by a deeper, fuller draw.

She shivered, totally turned on. He was like an animal, sniffing around her, like he was in heat, or a lethal predator preparing to pounce. Another inhalation, another inch closer. A few strands of her hair were lifted and she saw that he brought them to his face. Inhaling the scent of her, he closed his eyes. When his black lashes lifted, his blue eyes shone like lapis. His gaze bored into her and without taking his gaze off her, he tore the needle from her hand, ripping the string from his chest. He tossed them on the table and reached for her, turning her so that she was facing him.

Her breasts were nearly level with his gaze. She knew her nipples were clearly visible through the wet shirt. Her hips, which all her other lovers had thought too wide, were almost dwarfed in his big hands. His shoulders bunched and his biceps flexed as he came closer to her, pulling her hips forward until her belly was level with his face. From her navel he worked his way up until he was between her breasts, sniffing at her in that sexy, animalistic way of his.

His strong fingers dug into the waistband of her jeans and with a deep breath, he moved his head so that his nose and mouth slid against her until his lips came to rest millimetres from her nipple. His breath was hot against the cold wet fabric, and she shivered, feeling her nipple furl and crinkle. He sniffed her at the same time, making her nipples tighten even more.

Her jeans were suddenly opened and pulled down over her hips, revealing the white cotton boy shorts she wore underneath. His fingers traced her navel, then dipped lower to the lace waistband. He traced the lace edging, then gripped her hips, his palms sliding over her, then behind. She felt his finger skim the flesh of her bottom that peeked out from her panties.

Finally, he looked up at her.

“I want to smell you. Every inch. And not your rain soaked clothes. I want to smell you . I want to taste all this beautiful, human flesh.”

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