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Angel Thief

Angel Thief

by Jenny Schwartz

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She's breaking the rules. Again.

An archivist in the heavenly library, Sara must follow protocol when it comes to curating the knowledge of the universe. But "liberating" an ancient text from the collection of a human—an Australian drug lord—could save a boy's life. Sara has no way of knowing that one of the man's other treasures is a sexy-as-sin djinni, bound by a wish to guard the estate.

He's only following orders.

Filip is compelled to turn over intruders, even celestial ones, to his master. When he catches Sara in the library, he isn't above indulging in some sensual kisses with her, or using her to trick the mobster into wasting a wish. It's what he must do to preserve his facade of freedom and protect his heart.

But the kidnapping of the drug lord's daughter forces Sara and Filip to work together—bringing out the hero that lurks within the soul of the djinni, and the passion within the angel.

19,000 words

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781426890819
Publisher: Carina Press
Publication date: 11/29/2010
Series: Out of the Bottle , #2
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 384
File size: 454 KB

About the Author

Jenny Schwartz is an Australian author of Coastal Romance. Her books celebrate the joy of falling in love and the freedom of choosing to follow your heart. She has a degree in Sociology and History, and a passion for reading, especially books with a guaranteed happy ever after. You can chat with Jenny and learn more about her books at her website: 

Read an Excerpt

The clock ticked past midnight and Sara paced the marble floor of the heavenly library. She was a dark shadow among the gently glowing texts.

Urgency fought with common sense. She had a plan. Just because her heart beat hurry-hurry, hurry-hurry was no reason to lose her nerve and plunge headlong to Earth. She had to wait.

But all her angel instincts demanded action. Good had to triumph. Hope had to shine. She would risk her reputation and career to kick back the shadows and save an innocent life. Tonight, she would break into the human world.

She glanced around at her world, at the light texts, familiar and reassuring on their fine spider-web shelves. Recent advances in quantum laser scanning meant improved long-term storage of ancient texts.

As a senior archivist, it was her job to ensure the survival of knowledge from across the universe. However, the Archivist Guild had strict rules that no text could be acquired until the nanosecond when the author species would have lost it to fire, flood, earthquake or comet strike. In other words, the text could only come to heaven when it died.

Sara intended to stretch that rule. Again. If she was caught—

Anthea will cut the laser budget. The Guild President had made the threat after the bstemmi affair, and Anthea knew where to hurt. Quantum laser scanning was Sara's project. She felt immense satisfaction in its efficient storage, retrieval and display of knowledge.

To be useful, knowledge had to be accessible. Sara believed that passionately. She thought of herself as an knowledge explorer, an Indiana Jones of data archaeology bringing back treasures. Unfortunately, Guild rules frowned on adventurous archivists. They wanted steady, reliable angels with impeccably shiny halos. Angels who stayed safely in the heavenly library.

“Ivory tower dwellers. Angels divorced from their hearts. Cowards.”

Sara never wanted to look in the mirror and see someone who shut her eyes to suffering and buried herself in old texts. For all that she lived and worked in the heavenly library, she was part of the world.

“‘Every man's death diminishes me,'” she quoted Donne. “And a child's death diminishes me most of all.” She tilted her chin. No matter what punishment she faced, she couldn't turn aside now. Even if she lost the quantum laser project and ended up on recording duties.

She checked the clock on the far wall, seeing it through the shimmering distortion of the light texts. It showed the time anywhere in the universe. Currently it was set on Sydney time. She would have to reset it when she returned. Sydney time would be a dead giveaway if Michael came sniffing around. Although she didn't think he was suspicious—yet.

One o'clock was her witching hour. It was a heartbeat away. She'd dressed carefully for the occasion in a ribbed silk top above ink-dark tights. Her red hair was wound in a flat coil, pinned securely and covered by a black beret. On her feet she wore black sneakers for a fast, silent getaway.

Strictly speaking, the cat burglar suit wasn't necessary. As an angel she could materialise and dematerialise in a second. No human or human technology could hold her. But the dark clothes gave her confidence. If she was going to break the rules, she'd do it in style.

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