"Some hungers burn hotter than hell."
Wicked’s Kiss - Book 6 - A Faith Savage Demon Huntress Novel
K. A. M'Lady
Rated: The Iron Maiden
There are those who say that we are all God’s children. That the Blood of Christ released us from sins. But, there are others that hold to the original sins. Temptations purchased for a copper, a penny, a fine golden coin. Even the priests bought and sold lies with the silver kisses of thieves; might cost you a stoning – ten pence for a whore.
Some have written that from a garden God created the first cast-off demon; a viper feigned in the guise of a woman. Her kisses, once given, led to eternal damnation. And, from one sacred garden to our Christ’s last temptation, a kiss by the wicked brought about mankind’s salvation. Bought and paid for by greed, perhaps even envy – all impugnable transgressions.
But, when is a kiss just a kiss in the game of redemption? What price does a man pay for the ultimate betrayal? Is the cost greater than the price of his soul?
My name is Faith Savage. When dealing with matters of faith, God, religion and demons, I’ve found there are no easy answers. I’ve stumbled my way through Hell’s treacherous dark byways seeking God and the answers to these and many other questions. I’ve learned that nothing is as it seems when dealing with demons and Angels. And sometimes, love and faith creates just another way to burn.
The first kiss was for the dying. The unsuspecting prey, coiled lovingly in his arms. Soft skin pressed gently to his lips. Memories, wants and desires a warm, celestial rush mixed with the salty tang of copper bursting through his senses. Each one filled with light. Heated like the memory of sunshine kissing the flesh. He could almost taste it. Smell it on her flesh. Oh, the sweet, sensual heartache. The memory danced on his tongue and he swallowed it down. Took it from her. Watched it burn bitterly from her eyes while hope faded. While the last vestige of her light withdrew.
She clung to him, helplessly now. Watched him partake of her glory while he selfishly watched the light and life fade from her eyes. Both of them knew that this kiss was for her and her alone. Her one true kiss – the kiss for the soon departed.
The second kiss brought his own memories. Memories and despair. Every drop he swallowed burned his throat. His veins on fire. His life giving nectar brought no hope. He was filled with it and yet he was unfulfilled. Irony, such a bitter pill to swallow, but he would choke it down until his own destructive end.
He closed his eyes. Held the girl closer, yet he no longer felt her warmth. The light had passed between his greedy lips. It left him thirsty. Always so thirsty. But even he knew that redemption was not something he could consume. So he drank instead the memories. Swallowed hard the pain. And still the memories came.
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