There's always something good to read on Cover Reveals: His Soul to Hold by TW Knight

His Soul to Hold
by TW Knight
Dark Knights of Heaven Book Two
Soulless and exiled from Heaven, the Dark Knights have not abandoned their duty. For millennia they’ve battled demons, protecting human kind from Lucifer’s servants. Less than a year ago hundreds of demons escaped Hell world-wide, stretching the Knights resources to their limits. Now they face the greatest challenge of all—discovering love.

Breanna Thorn spent the last ten years fighting demons with her twin brother Sam, and she’s damn good at it. But at twenty three all she really wants is a normal life with dating, college and quiet. To balance the life she wants and the life she has, Bree studies demons and other supernatural creatures in hopes of better understanding the enemy. When she meets fallen angel Bass, Bree encounters a complication she never saw coming—love.

Bass’ persona of hedonism begins to crumble when he meets Breanna. She’s beautiful, intelligent, a kick ass fighter and the vessel for his immortal soul. He knows he’s no good for her but no matter how hard he tries to make Bree hate him; she keeps finding a way into his heart. He’ll do anything to keep her safe even if it means giving up everything he is.

After their parents are killed by monsters, demons, Sam Thorn focuses his life on protecting his sister and hunting the creatures that changed their lives. Now he finds himself swept up in a world where he’s surrounded by monsters and at risk of losing his sister—something he cannot, will not allow. When the rage burning inside him breaks free Sam finds he is a greater danger than the monsters he fears.

Hogart once walked the halls of Heaven, now he battles with voices in his head driving him further and further into madness. Being taken in by his fellow fallen angels, The Dark Knights, is both a blessing and a curse. Their energy quiets the demon within him but now he is permanently housed with the twins Sam and Breanna. The voices insist he kill them; his heart says otherwise.

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Content/Theme(s): Fallen angels, Angels, Demons
Release Date: November 2, 2016
Publisher: CHBB Publishing

Excerpt & More

Purchase link(s): Amazon
Excerpt:
Bree gasped for air. "Sam! Stop it!" Horrified, Bree stood frozen while her brother rained blow after blow upon Bass. The warrior wasn't really fighting back as much as blocking the strikes. What he didn't manage to block, he took in resigned silence. Bree sobbed, knowing he wouldn't fight back because hurting her brother would hurt her.

The shock burned away. She couldn't stop Sam by herself, not with him engulfed in a mindless rage. Sam wouldn't stop until he killed Bass.

She couldn't let him commit murder, even if the warrior would return to life.

Scrambling to her feet, Bree ran from the room and down the long hall to the left. At the last door, she stopped and drummed her fists against the wood. "Hogart!"

The barrier disappeared. She fell forward a step.

Bree gulped, afraid she had the wrong room. The man standing before her was dramatically different than the one they'd arrived with a few hours earlier. Instead of the ragged Wildman, Hogart appeared sleek and healthy, more like the other warriors.

He'd cut his silver grey hair short, shaved his bushy beard into a neat goatee, and wore gray sweatpants instead of furs and leather. His cold, haunted, eyes hadn't changed, though.

"What," he snapped.

"Some— something's wrong. Sam's gone crazy," she stuttered. "He's going to kill Bass."

The warrior vanished in a blur Bree only registered as a passing breeze. Pulling herself together she raced after him.

Sam continued to yell. Hogart held him off Bass in a bear hug. Bass lay on the floor, breathing heavily, bleeding from a split lip and his left eye. "Oh, God. Sam, what did you do?" Bree flung herself at her brother and punched him hard enough to send his head back into Hogart's shoulder. "What did you do?"

"It's okay, Bree." Bass' voice sounded whiskey raw with a slight lisp, but it was music to her ears.

"It's not okay. He beat the shit out of you."

"Yeah. Well, apparently he needed to get it out of his system." Wobbling like a new born colt, he pushed to his feet and spat blood on the floor. "You good now?" Bass eyed the boy warily.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. You can let me go," he directed to Hogart.

Bree stepped back from her brother. "What got into you?"

"I don't know. It was like... I don't know. I just wanted, needed, to fight."

Hogart nodded and grasped Sam by the scruff of his neck, giving him a little shake. "We'll clean this mess up. You two can go. We'll be fine."

Torn, Bree hesitated, but when Bass moved toward the door, she followed with a sad glance over her shoulder to her brother.

As he exited, Bass stopped and pointed to his coat lying on the bed. "Your sword is under there."

"Thanks." Bree snatched the case and the forgotten parka, and followed the warrior into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. "Let me help you."

"No," he barked. "I'm fine."

"Why did you let Sam beat you?"

"He needed to."

She snorted. "He needs a swift kick in the ass."

"Yeah. And I need a shower." Turning away, Bass stumbled to his room and shut the door, loudly.

Bree stood amidst the things brought from Alaska, staring at the barrier between them. Bass let Sam beat him and walked away. Did he feel he deserved to be beaten?

Unable to push the idea from her mind, Bree tossed her belongings into her room, pushed Sam's stuff against his door, and stormed into Bass' room. "You said you wanted to talk."

He didn't respond, and frankly Bree didn't want him to spoil the moment with words.

Her heart pounded like a jackhammer. She could take her eyes off the God standing outside the bathroom door. The dim yellow light made his golden tan glow and accentuated the hard planes of muscle. Entranced, she let her gaze flow over him.

Strong shoulders turned into arms she longed to feel around her. Stretching from beneath his hair to his glorious ass, ink covered his back, like a work of art supported by the muscular pillars of his legs. The way his muscles tightened in his thighs, he knew she stared.

She didn't care.

Slowly, she trailed her gaze back up to the tattoo. He'd turned his head slightly, allowing the curtain of hair to slide away and reveal the image. She bit her lip to keep from gasping. A serpentine dragon covered his entire back. Its wings stretched over his shoulder blades and down his arms, the tips ending at his wrists; the neck bent forward as though the massive jaws were ready to strike— to tear the viewer to pieces. The only bit of color accenting the grey shading and deep blacks hung in the creatures blood red eyes. Captivated by the beauty and madness in the image, Bree studied the sinuous body as it traveled down the length of Bass' body, the dragon's tail wrapping itself around the trunk of his right leg.

For a moment she thought the creature would tear itself free from Bass' flesh and attack her.

"Why did you choose a monster?" Bree clasped her hand over her mouth, trying to capture the words. "I didn't mean..."

"Isn't that how you see us?" He glanced over his shoulder.

She shook her head and Bass laughed with no humor.

"Then you're a fool, because that's what we are. Beasts, monsters all wrapped up in a pretty package."

"No. Those things you fight are the monsters."

"Eventually we'll be just like them. Look at how bat-shit-crazy Hogart is."

"He seems better."

"For now." He turned and gave Bree an unimpeded view from the front. "You like what you see?" he asked suggestively.

Bree took a step back. He'd gone from angry to seductive in two–point–three seconds. She would have to answer yes, if she let herself. It took all her will power to not throw herself against his insanely defined abs, explore the rest of his tattoos, and lick every inch of him. Proud of her ability to quell the urge, she crossed her arms and took an indifferent stance. "I've seen better."

Bass flew forward and pinned Bree to the wall, catching her off guard. Bree squirmed. Damn him, he'd done the same thing in Alaska to intimidate her.

Leaning forward, Bass nuzzled her neck. "Why did you follow me?"

"You, you said you wanted to talk." Bree placed her hands on his chest, her arms a useless barrier.

"And you thought I would still want to talk after the ass beating I took?" he purred, the rumbling going straight to her core.

Bree swallowed and found her mouth dry, which was odd considering the moisture forming between her thighs. Her stomach quivered. "I was worried about you," she rasped.

"Riiiight. You're worried that your brother was really going to do damage to me. How sweet." Bass chuckled and nipped her ear. "Why are you really here?"

"I told you—"

"That you were worried. I think what you really want is to play nurse and make me feel all better."

Bree gasped, his arousal pressing into her belly. "If this is your idea of seduction, you need to reread that how-to book." Pressing her elbows against the wall for leverage, she gave him a push. It was like shoving a mountain. A mountain of warm flesh and hard muscle. "Why are you being such a prick?"

Bass drew back slowly, pain in his eyes, jagged and sharp as broken glass. In the next blink, it was gone. He'd drawn a shade over the window into his soul.

"I was made this way. Don't expect the dragon to change its scales." He threw up his hands and turned away.

"I thought you were... Well, after our talk at the hanger, I thought we were becoming friends."

Bass glanced over his shoulder and leveled her with a harsh look wavering between fire and ice. "We're associates. We are not friends. I can't care about you the way you want. I won't love you. Now go back to your room."

Anger flared in Bree's chest and raced throughout her body like lava. "You selfish bastard. Who asked you to love me?" Bree's fingers wrapped around the crystal decanter sitting on the bureau beside her, and she let it fly. A shower of amber rain and crystal shards exploded from the bathroom door jamb, inches from Bass' head. Satisfied, she flung open the door, burying the doorknob in the plaster, and stalked out.

After a minute, Bass rescued the door and shut it quietly. He leaned against the cool silk of the wood. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "One day you'll thank me. Better to hate me now than later when you'd really be hurt."
~~~~~~
Purchase link(s): Amazon
Other titles by TW Knight:

His Soul
to Keep