It’s time for Snippet Saturday! Each week has a theme or is author’s choice. This week the theme is Even The Nights Are Better.
This week my snippet comes from the fourth book in my Her Angel romance series, Her Guardian Angel
This book is on offer at selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books and Apple iBooks store for just $0.99 / £0.99 / EUR 0,99 between today and September 27th, so grab your copy while you can. All the links are below, or at my website: Her Guardian Angel
Amelia took hold of his wrist and tried to tug him into deeper water. He stood firm and she frowned.
“You can’t swim, can you?â€
“I don’t know. I have never tried.†He might be able to swim. Angels sometimes remembered how to do things that they had experienced in a previous lifetime. If he had known how to swim then, he could instinctively remember it now, but he wasn’t willing to risk drowning in order to find out.
It didn’t seem to bother Amelia. She splashed his bare chest and face, and he responded by sweeping his arm across the warm water, sending a wave rushing towards her. She ducked under the surface and the water settled around him, lapping at his waist. He turned on the spot, searching for Amelia. When she didn’t surface after a few seconds, his pulse picked up and he waded further out, fearing that something had happened.
Something brushed his backside and he turned sharply, causing ripples to spread outwards from his chest. His senses blared in warning but he wasn’t quick enough. Amelia launched out of the water, looped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. Her playful attack caused his heels to dig into the soft wet sand under his feet and he fell backwards, sending them both underwater.
It went straight into his mouth and stung his eyes.
He broke the surface a split-second later, coughing the vile water up, and Amelia re-emerged, her sheepish smile visible in the strong moonlight.
She swam towards him and then around him, and his anger faded away when she came to stand behind him and stroked his back.
“They’re beautiful. Are they really a curse?†she whispered, her warm fingertips tracing the wings marked on his shoulder blades.
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