Even at fifteen years of age Gale Hansen knew when his mother dabbled in devil worship, something very bad was going to happen to him. Without realizing it, Gale’s own practice in dark magic opened doors to the shadow world and he lived his life fighting back the sins of his teens. At twenty he was still struggling, trying to keep away from drugs, getting arrested for his violent temper, and lonely for a true heart that would be the guardian angel he needed to bring him into the light. Jonathan Strickland, the CEO of a bank in Seattle, noticed the handsome young man during a social gathering at a mutual friend, Muriel Brown’s house. Though Jonathan was married and thirty years older than Gale, he bought the young man’s favors with cold hard cash. During their brief affair, Gale sensed more demons surrounding him than usual and the fight renewed in him to free himself of the satanic curse he’d been saddled with. Sinking deeper and deeper into a doomed relationship with Jonathan, Gale isn’t getting what he needs emotionally from the older man and soon it becomes obvious it’s about money and what Jonathan can get from Gale physically. All it took was one fateful evening for Gale’s worst nightmare to come true. He wakes from a deep drug-induced sleep with blood on his hands and his life spins out of control. Locked up for a crime he did not commit, Gale prays for a strong spirit to beat back the gloom and rid him of the curse his mother had brought upon him so long ago when she unleashed the demons of the underworld. And that guardian angel shows up in the unlikeliest of places. The cemetery. Can Gale free himself from his past and trust someone enough to let go and fall madly in love? Rise up like the Phoenix from the fiery gates to victory or will the devil himself, take the soul Gale promised him so many years ago? Sometimes the way to get to heaven is by having to go through hell.
As a special treat to my fans, may I introduce a previously unpublished writer who is making her debut appearance in this novel. I would like you all to meet JC Szot. Enjoy her short story, Breaking Chains.
As if waiting until Muriel vanished, Jonathan brought his attention to Gale. His inspection began at Gale’s profile, he then moved downwards.
Gale felt like print on a page, as slowly, carefully, every detail of his body was admired.
Though Jonathan was trying not to be too obvious in his admiration, it seemed to Gale as if Jonathan was fingering his flesh as his leer passed over Gale’s length. He withstood the appraisal, fidgeting with discomfort, pretending this was not offensive.
Gale was a psychic sensitive, one who feels other’s moods and pains, and fought off the sensation of wicked intent.
It didn’t stop him from shifting nervously in his boots as he looked into the depths of the room.
A sensation rushed Gale, as if he and Jonathan had just shared a sensuous kiss. Gale whipped his head towards Jonathan to witness his reaction.
Jonathan appeared powerful, rubbing his mid-section as if he felt a flutter in his stomach. Strangely, Gale felt pressure on the exact spot on his own abdomen. A spot where he sported a tattoo.
“You okay?” Gale asked.
It seemed Jonathan purposely acted puzzled. His explanation sounded insincere. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He touched his forehead in a cliché gesture.
Gale met Jonathan’s eyes. The connection set him aflame but not in a necessarily good way.
Jonathan scanned the proximity of the occupants of the room before he said, “I think you’re remarkable looking. I hope you’re not offended by my saying so.”
Gale cleared his throat. “No offense taken.” Toying with the empty glass in his hand, Gale looked for a place to set it down unsuccessfully. He sighed audibly and said, “So, Jonathan, what is it you do?”
“I’m the president of a bank.” Jonathan appeared very proud of that announcement.
Gale thought he shouldn’t be, considering the news they spewed out about the bank’s responsibility for the bad economy. “Oh. And you have so much spare time at the moment you can play?”
“Muriel is very kind and I allow myself an evening of leisure on occasion.”
Gale knew Jonathan was losing his concentration and interest in the topic. He felt Jonathan’s lingering stare on the lines of his jaw and cheekbones and it seemed as if it was difficult for Jonathan to focus with any clarity.
The appraisal had begun again in earnest. Gale lowered his gaze to his boots and shifted anxiously, feeling very timid and inadequate next to this man. It made Gale want to run for the door.
It didn’t help that Gale could read every lascivious thought going through this man’s head. Thank you, Satan, you turned every meeting into a proposition. I asked for one good man to have sex with, not many men to have meaningless affairs with.
“Why do you hate reporting?” Jonathan asked.
Gale shrugged and felt like an adolescent, knowing he was out of his league with this sophisticated CEO.
“Why don’t you try a more lucrative business?” Jonathan moved closer, brushing Gale’s shoulder with his own. “Something you’ll enjoy.”
When Jonathan’s heat penetrated through his silk shirt, Gale raised his eyes instantly to the leering gray ones.
A thundercloud of anguish flashed over Gale and he knew Jonathan noticed the darkness in his expression.
“I’ve hit a chord.” Jonathan sounded apologetic, but looked satisfied.
Gale grimaced involuntarily. He could sense Jonathan searching for a reason for the change in his countenance.
“It’s very obvious to me, Gale, you should be doing something else.”
At the comment, Gale swallowed down poisonous thoughts. It made him close his eyes and tilt his face away from Jonathan. A rush of sensual pleasure washed over Gale, but he knew it was Jonathan’s pleasure, not his. His empathic energy was warning him.
Jonathan said quietly, “You look like a Botticelli saint.” He stared, mesmerized.
The intensity of erotic sensation increased in Gale.
“A punished archangel.”
“No.” Gale held up his hand at the comparison, terror seizing him. Taking a step back, Gale hoped the space would make the contact with Jonathan less intimate and the sensations would let go. Gale gave his glass to a passing servant with an elevated tray. He ran his hand back through his hair, pulling it off his face.
“You hate this, don’t you?” Jonathan smiled too knowingly.
Gale exhaled tiredly. “I don’t know why Muriel invites me. I have nothing in common with any of you. I know she tries.” Gale fought hard to find the right words.
“I didn’t only mean you hate these parties. You hate your life, your job, everything about your situation.” Jonathan’s mouth tightened. “Let me tell you why you are here.”
Gale felt icy cold, as if the temperature around him had fallen ten degrees. He knew what that meant. Something was draining his energy. In Muriel’s home, it could be any number of undead entities.
“You are an adornment, my handsome friend. Like her costly Chagall or Rodin. A pretty little sculpture for us to admire.” Jonathan touched Gale’s arm.
Fear and mistrust Gale had seen in many eyes. This was lust. Pure, throbbing, wicked lust.
In another cliché gesture, Jonathan tilted his head to the side like a puppy trying to understand the human language.
Gale could tell Jonathan had a tremendous urge to reach up and dig his fingers through his hair. He watched Jonathan’s hand clenching and opening. Instead of that caress, Jonathan dug through his wallet. “Here, you never know when it’ll come in handy.”
Gale’s attention was drawn downward. With reluctance, he took the card from Jonathan’s masculine hand, meeting those inquisitive eyes once again.
A flash of burning heat scorched Gale, sending his cock thick in his leather pants. Imagining the feel of Jonathan’s skin against his own, Gale licked his lips and closed his eyes to understand it. No. No. I can’t be sensing this.