|Death Sword Cover
A. In 2005, I participated in my second National Novel Writing Month challenge. I had "won" the year before with a vampire novel and thought this time around would be as easy. But Cathedral Girl turned out to be more complicated than I thought, so I set it aside. Nevertheless, the research I had started, which included studying angels and fallen angels, piqued my interest so much I was inspired to write Death Sword for NaNoWriMo 2008. (I've also finished Cathedral Girl, after nearly ten years.)
Q. What's the premise of Death Sword?
A. A half-human angel of death resolves to avenge her friends' murders before she becomes the killer's next victim. But that's not easy when she's banished to earth and stripped of her powers. Not only that, but the murderer, her new boss, also threatens her relationship with her angelic parole officer, his former lover.
The only thing more dangerous than an angel of death is one obsessed with vengeance.
Karla Black has always known she’s different from other people. She learns just how different after she’s fatally stabbed and brought back to life as a half-human angel of death.With new found power comes a new found boss. Samael despises her. He considers Karla impure and resents her relationship with her partner Xariel…who also happens to be Samael’s ex-lover. When he takes that hatred to a higher level, Karla vows vengeance – a task easier said than done.
With the loss of their angelic powers, Karla and Xariel face a dilemma – how will they defeat an unstoppable Samael, whose poisoned rapier can kill human and angel alike?
If Karla doesn’t awaken to her true identity, both heaven and earth are in danger of annihilation.
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“Karla!” Xariel yelled, ignoring the back door as it banged open.
He skidded to a stop in the living room, eyes narrowing. He sensed Samael’s presence, but not Karla’s.
Gabriel came up behind him. “What the hell happened here?"
“He’s got her.” Xariel’s breathing and heart rate slammed into overdrive. His vision blurred as fury clouded the logical part of his mind.
“Samael, Goddamn it. He’s got her. I know he does.” He glared at Gabriel. “And if he knows who she is, he’ll kill her.”
Xariel stumbled to the bar, grabbing a half-pint of Crown Royal. Unscrewing the cap, he poured a shot glass, gulped down the whiskey, and ignored the burn. Another shot followed. Then another.
And another. And still another.
He continued to glower at Gabriel as he drained three-fourths of the whiskey in less than thirty seconds.
“Get a fucking grip.” Gabriel grabbed the bottle and tossed it aside, ignoring Xariel’s protesting cry. His scythe materialized in his hands. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”