Prologue
He was an angel born in heaven. As such, he was a very rare being indeed.
Angels
do not indulge in the kind of activities that result in the birth of children, but his mother, Seraphina, had always been a bit of a rebel. Not wild enough, it’s true, to follow Lucifer and his band when they staged their revolt, but constantly restless and chafing against the rules. On an illicit visit to earth, she met the divinely handsome
Michael
.
What followed was an intense and passionate affair, which only ended when both of them were recalled to heaven, to face an inquiry. For
Michael
, like Seraphina, was an angel.
The upper management levels recited the rules about fraternization, outlined the consequences of such misdemeanors, and announced themselves completely unsurprised when Seraphina found she was pregnant.
From the moment her son was born, however, all censure, all sternness, all reproach, melted away in the warm glow of the love every celestial being felt for the infant. True, the Supreme Being did insist on the baby being called
Peter
, in the hopes, He said, that the name of the oldest and most awesome of angels would somehow negate the rebelliousness of both parents. But no-one who laid eyes on baby
Peter
ever thought of strict adherence to the rules, or stoic self-righteousness.
He had golden curls, eyes the pure blue of heavenly skies, and a smile like the sun coming out from behind clouds. The Italian painter,
Botticelli
, having been blessed with heavenly visions as his muse, caught sight of the infant
Peter
in a dream, and the memory of it shaped the appearance of the cherubs in his paintings thereafter.
Peter
was the adored pet of cherubim and seraphim, of archangel and saint. The smattering of freckles across his nose, the tousled curls, and the mischievous grin of boyhood, saved him a myriad of scoldings. How could you be angry at someone who made you smile just to see him, no matter how many feathers he’d plucked from your wings?
Peter
’s teenage years lasted, as was customary, an eon or more. Divine influence ensured such unpleasantness as acne, moodiness and the first stirrings of lust, by-passed the boy completely.
He approached the long years of his adulthood, happy, serene and content with the job assigned to him. His sunny disposition, his appealing good looks, and his willingness to listen attentively, made him the ideal counselor and comforter of those unable to let go of their earthly attachments.
No-one predicted that Peter, listening all day, year in and year out, to people mourning the loss of loved ones and earthly pleasures, even in the face of the delights heaven had to offer, would gradually become aware of an insatiable curiosity to find out for himself exactly what was so attractive about life on earth.
The yearning to know burned within him. It itched and bothered him like a fire under the skin. The rebelliousness he had inherited from his parents stirred and flexed. It pushed him through the pearly gates. It lured him to the very edge of heaven.
He leaned over the brink, looked back over his shoulder at the only place he had ever known, reached behind him, unfastened his wings, and fell.
Chapter One
Wow. Ellie knew it was her birthday, but, in thirty-two years, this was the first time anyone had ever given her a naked man – a beautiful naked man, who looked like he’d been created by some benevolent god, just to give women pleasure.
She was astonished that any of her friends would have had the nerve to pull off a trick like this. Ellie was not noted for her flexibility, or her tolerance of the unexpected. She had rules, and she didn’t bend them for anyone. Surely her friends knew her first reaction would be to call the police.
Some sort of decisive action was definitely called for. After all, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence to open your front door and find someone curled up, fast asleep and naked, on the top step. At the moment, though, he was
He was an angel born in heaven. As such, he was a very rare being indeed.
Angels
do not indulge in the kind of activities that result in the birth of children, but his mother, Seraphina, had always been a bit of a rebel. Not wild enough, it’s true, to follow Lucifer and his band when they staged their revolt, but constantly restless and chafing against the rules. On an illicit visit to earth, she met the divinely handsome
Michael
.
What followed was an intense and passionate affair, which only ended when both of them were recalled to heaven, to face an inquiry. For
Michael
, like Seraphina, was an angel.
The upper management levels recited the rules about fraternization, outlined the consequences of such misdemeanors, and announced themselves completely unsurprised when Seraphina found she was pregnant.
From the moment her son was born, however, all censure, all sternness, all reproach, melted away in the warm glow of the love every celestial being felt for the infant. True, the Supreme Being did insist on the baby being called
Peter
, in the hopes, He said, that the name of the oldest and most awesome of angels would somehow negate the rebelliousness of both parents. But no-one who laid eyes on baby
Peter
ever thought of strict adherence to the rules, or stoic self-righteousness.
He had golden curls, eyes the pure blue of heavenly skies, and a smile like the sun coming out from behind clouds. The Italian painter,
Botticelli
, having been blessed with heavenly visions as his muse, caught sight of the infant
Peter
in a dream, and the memory of it shaped the appearance of the cherubs in his paintings thereafter.
Peter
was the adored pet of cherubim and seraphim, of archangel and saint. The smattering of freckles across his nose, the tousled curls, and the mischievous grin of boyhood, saved him a myriad of scoldings. How could you be angry at someone who made you smile just to see him, no matter how many feathers he’d plucked from your wings?
Peter
’s teenage years lasted, as was customary, an eon or more. Divine influence ensured such unpleasantness as acne, moodiness and the first stirrings of lust, by-passed the boy completely.
He approached the long years of his adulthood, happy, serene and content with the job assigned to him. His sunny disposition, his appealing good looks, and his willingness to listen attentively, made him the ideal counselor and comforter of those unable to let go of their earthly attachments.
No-one predicted that Peter, listening all day, year in and year out, to people mourning the loss of loved ones and earthly pleasures, even in the face of the delights heaven had to offer, would gradually become aware of an insatiable curiosity to find out for himself exactly what was so attractive about life on earth.
The yearning to know burned within him. It itched and bothered him like a fire under the skin. The rebelliousness he had inherited from his parents stirred and flexed. It pushed him through the pearly gates. It lured him to the very edge of heaven.
He leaned over the brink, looked back over his shoulder at the only place he had ever known, reached behind him, unfastened his wings, and fell.
Chapter One
Wow. Ellie knew it was her birthday, but, in thirty-two years, this was the first time anyone had ever given her a naked man – a beautiful naked man, who looked like he’d been created by some benevolent god, just to give women pleasure.
She was astonished that any of her friends would have had the nerve to pull off a trick like this. Ellie was not noted for her flexibility, or her tolerance of the unexpected. She had rules, and she didn’t bend them for anyone. Surely her friends knew her first reaction would be to call the police.
Some sort of decisive action was definitely called for. After all, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence to open your front door and find someone curled up, fast asleep and naked, on the top step. At the moment, though, he was