Echo Of Her Presence by Alaina Stanford
I have one of those brains that won't turn off at night. Many nights I would distract my intellect by revamping a movie, book or TV show in my mind. I would twist and turn the plots and characters to achieve the ending I preferred. That developed into side stories about my favorite minor characters. Each night I fell asleep in the middle of a grand adventure. It wasn't long before I began to create stories of my own and put pen to paper.
I love a good adventure. I love a good romance. As the mother of seven children, I also learned to love to play video games. One day it occurred to me to write an adventure that flowed like a video game and I added a touch of romance. Thus, Hypnotic Journey was born. The HJ characters are like a family to me. They are foolish, daring, resourceful, passionate and dedicated to their friends.
My love for Science Fiction gave birth to the Treborel Series. It’s a paranormal Sci-Fi romance featuring a psychotic villain and a multiple layer of hero's fighting to survive the chaos.
I write about how friendship and love can carry you through situations that you might not otherwise survive. You will find my stories exciting and steamy, but I am not an erotic writer. My stories fade to dark when the steam begins to rise, but take it from me, the steam does rise and emotions do soar.
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Ariel carried the ultimate burden of failure on her shoulders. She'd fallen victim to the oldest trick in the book. Angel's aren't supposed to fail, angels aren't suppose to fall in love. Her failure concerned both. In her moment of weakness she had not only failed mankind, she had failed God. Now her heart was an island of ice encased behind a steel barrier no one could penetrate. Not even her divine partner Met.
Ariel's heart was locked away forever. Then she gazed into the steely gray eyes of a stubborn Texas rancher.
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Even angel’s get sunburnt. Ariel’s ivory skin held a light pink glow. The Texan sun was merciless. She gazed across the cattle range searching for her target. The drought was real enough. Even the usually humid Texas air was so dry the sweat didn’t have time to form on her skin. Her long chestnut hair flowed freely about her shoulders as a hot wind brushed against her.
She left her wings extended in an attempt to shade her bare arms and back. A tan top and jeggings were a bad choice of wardrobe for today. Neither were the white tennis shoes on this rocky soil. The unhindered sunlight illuminated the cobalt blue center of her wings that were wrapped in a deep purple hue which sprang from an emerald green base. Her wings ended with a thin tan border. “SPF 50,” she muttered, licking her parched lips. “And a side of icy bottled water. That would make my day.”
Bringing rain to a drought plagued land was a slow process. Ariel found the dry stream bed she was searching for and glanced up at the sky. She spread her arms out wide and closed her eyes, concentrating. If she pulled storm clouds to her too quickly the resulting storms could devastate the entire southern region of the US. High winds, Tornados, flash floods, and destructive lightening running ramped across the land would not put her in favor with the Big Guy.
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