Fallen

Emma rescued him because it was the “right” thing to do. He wasn’t your typical babe in the woods. He wore rustic clothing. His hair was too long. His face was too handsome. There was that tattoo of a flaming cross down the side of his neck too.


Now, as she’s speeding toward a dock with every intention of slamming into it, she found herself no longer wondering who he was, but rather, what he was. She turned around and looked at his absent face smiling nervously back at her, bracing himself as blacked winged Angels chased their runaway boat.


Was he a monster? Or some sort of demon? Why would Angels be after his life? Two months ago, her world still made sense. Now, nothing will ever be the same again. She had unwittingly put herself in the middle of a reigniting celestial war, and little did she know the fate of the world would soon be contingent on them. And she’d never even driven a boat before. 18, was going to be a tough year.