Divine Night
Melanie Jackson
Language: English
Pages: 339
ISBN: 0505527375
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Like Lord Byron, Alexandre Dumas, the famous French author of The Three Musketeers books, was long ago made immortal, but only now, with the help of the psychic beauty with whom he is falling in love, can he take revenge against his archenemy, the villainous Comte de St. Germain.
there were others, they had retreated back into the vaults. Silence fell like an avalanche. Outside, the lightning had stopped, ending as abruptly as it began. Almost immediately, Harmony felt herself mentally reconnecting with Alex. For a moment she resisted the joining, and then relaxed and let it happen. He didn’t push in rudely, just hovered near the surface, waiting for an invitation. “That better be the last of them. I am out of ammunition.” He sounded matter-of-fact when he finally
checking to see if it was loaded. “Let’s say she won’t be that surprised, because it’s something she might do.” Harmony was a reasonably loyal friend, and Alex sensed her reluctance to add that Ashley didn’t want men to be rocket scientists. In fact, all brain functions beyond those needed to create a hard-on were actually more bother than they were worth. Alex understood this. Stupid women were often easier to deal with as well. Harmony cleared her throat. “But am I going with you? You don’t
the wrong hands they are the-tools of Satan. Yet, there are ways around them. The machines are only as smart as the people who program them.” “I know.” She smiled a little. “I figured you would. You might have to give me a crash course on defeating them. It’s a technology I’ve been avoiding because of my effect on electronic things—and also because I have an aversion to anything that tyrannizes us as computers do…but I may not be able to ignore them much longer. Though I refuse to have a cell
or a memory of Thomasina—in other words, general sex thoughts and not desire for her specifically. After all, it was more than possible that he had been thinking of his book, working by the light of the fire, and his mind got caught up in the past. His subconscious probably began reading outdated messages, desperate notes of longing from the wounded psyche of a man who really no longer existed but didn’t know how to let go of his past—the ghost of his last love living on in his subconscious. He
“I even understand. I’m just not sure that I agree,” she had added with a small smile. “There are exceptions to every rule, you know. And I am not Thomasina. I know the enemy, and I don’t plan on dying.” That would be great dialogue in a play or novel. And, no, she wasn’t Thomasina. She was stronger, better informed of the danger, more capable of fighting. But leaving Saint Germain aside, he knew he shouldn’t risk making an exception to his sensible policy, no matter how much he longed to.