An Angel’s Wings Snippet
An Angel’s Wings is available now and found in the Dear Santa: A Collection of Erotic Holiday Stories anthology, available now at Dark Hollows Press and all third party retail sites.
Jack scoured the area as far as the eye could see under the full moon’s light. The solid white earth stretched before him with more tracks and prints. He slapped his hand next to what soon became his sample, using his fingers to predict measurements.
“Jack, what is it?” Martha called out to him from their porch, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her of his suspicions.
His vision blurred. His eyes throbbed. It was like a drummer boy stood over him, beating his head like a worn-out drum. The noise became louder instead of softer as the vehicles raced down the mountain, drowning out that dull beat now pulsing in his ears.
Jack ran his fingers around the embedded paw shape, about twice the size of his hand. He rose to his feet and followed the trail, expecting to see a clear path straight into the forest. Instead, he stared out over an open field of freshly fallen snow.
His uncertainties left him to wonder about his child’s bleak future. Had he protected his only daughter or had he thrown Romy to the wolves, to a pack of dogs just waiting to strip away her innocence, maybe even her life?
His daughter had slipped away with renegades, maybe even outright rogues. Now, she was out there somewhere, riding with bikers, with men who were considered dangerous. These men stood against the new laws and order of a country shaped by indecision and scandal. They were thought of as defectors and traitors, yet Jack had entrusted his daughter’s life with them because the alternative guaranteed death and destruction wrought with horror and unknowns.
Sure, Romy faced an undetermined destiny, but given the alternative, she at least had hope. Under the cover of a dark, black night, Romy was headed for Safe Mountain, a legendary protective haven for innocent young women.
As a father, Jack prayed the place would live up to its name.
COMING IN JANUARY
There’s an old sayin’ around these parts about bikes. Some folks, die hard bikers that is, say motorcycles don’t leak oil, they just mark their territory. In Sevier County, that was a common belief before the Great Age of Innocence began, before corrupt leaders took over the country with promises of much needed reform, the kind of political pitches that made a person stand up and pay attention.
Those oaths were a pack of lies all tied up in pretty little bows, kind of like those satin ribbons unsuspecting mothers braided into their daughters’ hair on their seventeenth birthday, the very day most young women were confirmed.
Time changes the definition behind simple words, just as it changes the meaning behind once-significant phrases and quotes.
The bikes roaring through town aren’t there to mark their territory. They speed through a city so quickly, they don’t have time to leave behind evidence that they’ve even been there.
The MC rides through the streets with purpose. They arrive for one lone mission.
They’re not there to protect or guard. They’re there to search and rescue.
They’re looking for the confirmed. They want the condemned, the chosen.
And when they find them, they steal away with the most precious of gifts, innocent women they fully intend to claim
Chuck considered the possible outcome and reminded himself of Molly’s early request. She’d never asked him to bring another woman into their bed, but she’d specifically asked if Romy could join them.
When Chuck didn’t respond, Laurel asked, “How do you know about the Senator?”
“I put Levi and Duke on Molly. We kept surveillance on her while we had time to do a background check.”
“And you came up with Senator Brighton, the very man who started trafficking our country’s young women?” She stalked him. “Brighton is the one who started The Enchantment Movement across the globe. He’s the reason people like you and me are slaughtered for harboring these young women in safe havens in order to keep them from being transported. What the hell were you thinking?”
“We didn’t know who she was!”
The door slammed against the back wall and Romy walked in as if she had always owned the right to be in that very room. “But you know who she is now and still you want me to go to bed with her.”
“It’s the only way.”
“You’re agreeing with him?” Laurel’s high soprano voice pitched an octave higher.
Romy shot Chuck a heated glance. “Sometimes you have to get in bed with the devil before you can raise a little hell.”