Hell’s Angel
Jackie Kessler
Copyright
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.
HELL’S ANGEL
28 Days of Heart Series
Copyright © 2010 JACQUELINE H. KESSLER
Cover art by Amanda Kelsey
Edited by Nicole Bunting
eBook conversion by jimandzetta.com
All Romance eBooks, LLC
Palm Harbor, Florida 34684
www.allromanceebooks.com
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First All Romance eBooks publication: February 2010
Foreword
“Nothing’s better than a healthy heart, which helps women endure the ailments of life—physical or romantic—and come out on top of it all. This anthology, with stories by some of the most talented romance writers in the market, will benefit hearts everywhere. It’s not often you can contribute to a worthy cause, one that may well affect you in your lifetime, and at the same time assure yourself of some excellent entertainment. Have a good time, and let your heart be your guide.”
Charlaine Harris
Hell’s Angel
The banished angel stared at the gates of Paradise and let out a sigh that made the wind weep with sorrow. Like the wall that stretched around Heaven, the gates were silver, beautiful, and intricately—even intimately—designed. Looking at them filled the angel with both longing and hope; it was a pressing need to be within those gates, that wall, a rising desire to take part in the delights that awaited within the boundaries of the celestial city. It was a budding hope that she would feel happy once more. That she would feel bliss.
That she would feel something other than the gnawing, insistent loneliness deep within her belly.
But no. Such things were not to be. Not for one such as her. She was nameless. Homeless.
Hopeless.
The angel sighed again, forlorn. She could have taken to wing, of course, and flown far above the top of the wall to peer at the sites within. Like its nefarious counterpart in Hell, Heaven’s gates were neither to keep the blessed safe nor to exclude those unworthy. They simply were , because people—those wonderful, hideous, beautiful, surprising creatures— expected there to be gates surrounding Heaven, usually ornately adorned with pearls. What people expected tended to be; even if they didn’t believe that they believed, their faith of their perspective on reality was nothing short of miraculous. People expected there to be gates to Heaven, and so there were gates to Heaven.
Thus the angel could have soared across the skies, over the gates, hovering above the place that had been her home for countless years. Nothing would have stopped her. It would not have occurred to the cherubim that she might be up to no good, and the seraphim had far more important duties than to keep watch for an errant angel attempting to return to the fold. The archangels would not have deigned to notice her. She could have flown above to peer below.
But she didn’t have the heart to do so.
Beneath her, the cloud was soft and somewhat damp. She allowed it to chill her skin, which was bare except for the gossamer shift that covered her from shoulders to thighs. Since being banished to Hell, she’d noticed things like temperature more than ever—the Pit was miserably hot, so she now took some small comfort from the feeling of the cloud against her legs, cooling her. The winds brushed her long hair, set it cascading down her back, her shoulders, dancing along the slopes of her breasts. She barely noticed the playful teasing of her hair against her body. The angel sat, rigid and proper, her legs tucked
Jackie Kessler
Copyright
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.
HELL’S ANGEL
28 Days of Heart Series
Copyright © 2010 JACQUELINE H. KESSLER
Cover art by Amanda Kelsey
Edited by Nicole Bunting
eBook conversion by jimandzetta.com
All Romance eBooks, LLC
Palm Harbor, Florida 34684
www.allromanceebooks.com
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First All Romance eBooks publication: February 2010
Foreword
“Nothing’s better than a healthy heart, which helps women endure the ailments of life—physical or romantic—and come out on top of it all. This anthology, with stories by some of the most talented romance writers in the market, will benefit hearts everywhere. It’s not often you can contribute to a worthy cause, one that may well affect you in your lifetime, and at the same time assure yourself of some excellent entertainment. Have a good time, and let your heart be your guide.”
Charlaine Harris
Hell’s Angel
The banished angel stared at the gates of Paradise and let out a sigh that made the wind weep with sorrow. Like the wall that stretched around Heaven, the gates were silver, beautiful, and intricately—even intimately—designed. Looking at them filled the angel with both longing and hope; it was a pressing need to be within those gates, that wall, a rising desire to take part in the delights that awaited within the boundaries of the celestial city. It was a budding hope that she would feel happy once more. That she would feel bliss.
That she would feel something other than the gnawing, insistent loneliness deep within her belly.
But no. Such things were not to be. Not for one such as her. She was nameless. Homeless.
Hopeless.
The angel sighed again, forlorn. She could have taken to wing, of course, and flown far above the top of the wall to peer at the sites within. Like its nefarious counterpart in Hell, Heaven’s gates were neither to keep the blessed safe nor to exclude those unworthy. They simply were , because people—those wonderful, hideous, beautiful, surprising creatures— expected there to be gates surrounding Heaven, usually ornately adorned with pearls. What people expected tended to be; even if they didn’t believe that they believed, their faith of their perspective on reality was nothing short of miraculous. People expected there to be gates to Heaven, and so there were gates to Heaven.
Thus the angel could have soared across the skies, over the gates, hovering above the place that had been her home for countless years. Nothing would have stopped her. It would not have occurred to the cherubim that she might be up to no good, and the seraphim had far more important duties than to keep watch for an errant angel attempting to return to the fold. The archangels would not have deigned to notice her. She could have flown above to peer below.
But she didn’t have the heart to do so.
Beneath her, the cloud was soft and somewhat damp. She allowed it to chill her skin, which was bare except for the gossamer shift that covered her from shoulders to thighs. Since being banished to Hell, she’d noticed things like temperature more than ever—the Pit was miserably hot, so she now took some small comfort from the feeling of the cloud against her legs, cooling her. The winds brushed her long hair, set it cascading down her back, her shoulders, dancing along the slopes of her breasts. She barely noticed the playful teasing of her hair against her body. The angel sat, rigid and proper, her legs tucked
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