"You vill meet a dahk dangerrous sttrrangah…" Aurora predicted at the Mardi Gras ball, and as if someone left their Swords of War videogame on "share" in a parallel universe, he walked in. Conor de Sept Flambe´, the Dark Knight they'd dubbed him, with his dark gleaming muscles, the distinctive leathery tattoos across his shoulders, armored boots and magnificent flashing swords.
"Where did he get those swords?" Montana asked, drooling. She'd been unable to force her eyes away from him all evening. Then he'd walked across the ballroom floor, parting the crowd like Moses through the Red Sea, and asked her to dance. Turns out, he's quite the music lover.
He said he wanted to show her some of his moves. Right! Her Dinnshencha warrior wasn't born yesterday… There's more to this Knight than meets the eye, and he's quite an eyeful. Recognizing her diminishing strength, he offers to prepare her for the Chaos, twenty-four hours when many Paramortals would lose their power.
Sheriff Jack Lang knows something's afoot with Conor's appearance in Destiny. Crazies are coming out of the woodwork, Paramortals are losing their abilities, and dispositions going AWOL, Jack wants to know who will be left standing beside him when the Para-moon begins. If Flambe´ is what Jack thinks he is, the good guys might have a chance. If not, they'll be in deep… trouble.
Where's an F-18 when you need one?
About the Author
I’m Livia Quinn. A DC native living in bayou country. With a life long fascination with (read that: phobia of) storms, and living in Louisiana where severe weather is a part of life, it was only natural that it would play a big part in my world. Come to Destiny where love always happens when you least expect it!