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Zusatztext Praise for the Novels of the Fallen Angels “Fans of the Black Dagger Brotherhood clear a shelf: Your next series addiction has just begun.”— Publishers Weekly “It grabbed me from the very beginning.”—SmexyBooks “A fantastic read...Go get this book!”—Fresh Fiction “A sumptuous mix of danger and romance.”— Booklist “[A] unique style of writing...outrageous shocks and twists.”—Suite101.com “Proves that J.R. Ward’s talents don’t stop at vampires.”—LoveVampires.com “Complex...fascinating.”— Midwest Book Review Informationen zum Autor J. R. Ward is the author of more than thirty novels, including those in her #1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series. She is also the author of the Black Dagger Legacy series and the Bourbon Kings series. There are more than fifteen million copies of her novels in print worldwide, and they have been published in twenty-six different countries around the world. She lives in the South with her family. Klappentext From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series comes the second Novel of the Fallen Angels, and a deadly new mission for the reluctant savior enlisted to protect the future of humanity… Seven deadly sins. Seven souls that must be saved. One more no-holds battle between a fallen angel with a hardened heart and demon with everything to lose. Isaac Rothe is a black ops solider with a dark past and a grim future. The target of an assassin, he finds himself behind bars, his fate in the hands of his gorgeous public defender, Grier Childe. His hot attraction to her is a totally wrong place/wrong time kind of thing-and that's before Jim Heron tells him his soul is in danger. Caught up in a wicked game with the demon who shadows Jim, Isaac must decide whether the solider in him can believe that true love is the ultimate weapon against evil... Prologue The Desert, Far from Caldwell, N.Y. or Boston, M.A. or... sanity. Some two years after the fact, when Jim Heron was no longer in special ops, he would reflect that Isaac Rothe, Matthias the Fucker and he, himself, had all changed their lives the night that bomb went off in the sand. Of course, at the time, none of them knew what it all meant, or where it was all going. But that was life: nobody got a guided tour to their own theme park. You had to get on the rides as they presented themselves, never knowing whether you would like the one you were in line for... or if the bastard was going to make you throw up your corn dog and your cotton candy all over the place. Maybe that was a good thing, though. Like back then he would have believed he’d end up duking it out with a demon, trying to save the world from damnation? Come on now. But that night, in the dry cold that washed in the second the sun went down over the dunes, he and his boss had walked into a minefield... and only one had walked out. The other? Not so much... “This is it,” Matthias said as they came up to an abandoned village. They were fifteen miles northwest from where they were staying in a barracks of Army boys. Being in XOps, they were outside the stream of defined corps which worked to their benefit: soldiers like him carried I.D.s from all branches of the service and used them whenever it suited. The “village” was more like four crumbling stone structures and bunch of wood and tarp huts. As they approached, his green night vision goggles tracked movement all over the place. He hated those fucking tarps- they flapped in the wind, their shadows darting around like fast-footed people who had guns. And grenades. And other varieties of sharp and shiny. Or in this case grungy and gritty. He hated desert assignments; better to kill in civilization. More exposure, true- but at least you had a sh...
