Angel Eyes (Angel Eyes Trilogy #1)
Once you’ve seen, you can’t unsee. Everything changes when you’ve looked at the world through . . .
Brielle’s a ballerina who went to the city to chase her dreams and found tragedy instead. She’s come home to shabby little Stratus, Oregon, to live with her grief and her guilt . . . and the incredible, numbing cold she can’t seem to shake.
Jake’s the new guy at school. The boy next door with burning hands and an unbelievable gift that targets him for corruption.
Something more than fate has brought them together. An evil bigger than both of them lurks in the shadows nearby, hiding in plain sight. Two angels stand guard, unsure what’s going to happen. And a beauty brighter than Jake or Brielle has ever seen is calling them to join the battle in a realm where all human choices start.
A realm that only angels and demons—and Brielle—can perceive.
Broken Wings (Angel Eyes Trilogy #2)
Giant angels with metal wings and visible song. A blind demon restored from the pit of darkness. And a girl who has never felt more broken.
Brielle sees the world as it really is: a place where the Celestial exists side by side with human reality. But in the aftermath of a supernatural showdown, her life begins to crumble. Her boyfriend, Jake, is keeping something from her—something important. Her overprotective father has started drinking again. He’s dating a much younger woman who makes Brielle’s skin crawl, and he’s downright hostile toward Jake. Haunting nightmares keep Brielle from sleeping, and flashes of Celestial vision keep her off kilter.
What she doesn’t know is that she’s been targeted. The Prince of Darkness himself has heard of the boy with healing in his hands and of the girl who sees through the Terrestrial Veil. When he plucks the blind demon, Damien, from the fiery chasm and sends him back to Earth with new eyes, the stage is set for a cataclysmic battle of good versus evil.
Then Brielle unearths the truth about her mother’s death and she must question everything she ever thought was true.
Brielle has no choice. She knows evil forces are converging and will soon rain their terror down upon the town of Stratus. She must master the weapons she’s been given. She must fight.
But can she fly with broken wings?
Shannon Dittemore has an overactive imagination and a passion for truth. Her lifelong journey to combine the two is responsible for a stint at Portland Bible College, performances with local theater companies, and a focus on youth and young adult ministry. The daughter of one preacher and the wife of another, she spends her days imagining things unseen and chasing her two children around their home in Northern California. Angel Eyes is her first novel.
An excerpt from Broken Wings…
Silence consumes the assembly now, imposed on them by the sight of an icy white figure dropping into the hall from above. His wings, spread wide, are white save the tips, which retain a char he’s never rid of.
Black-tipped wings for the Prince of Darkness. Healthy wings. Strong wings. His skin shines like polished marble. His hair lies in curls of midnight around his face—still fresh, still bright, still retaining the beauty that seduced a third of the angels. Human eyes would have a hard time distinguishing the Prince from a Warrior like Michael. But the absence of light behind those pale blue eyes hints at the creature’s true nature. And they are pale, so pale the blue seems buried far below, glinting like coins at the bottom of a well.
He’s exquisite. Majestic.
And he’s afraid.
Celestial light has been banned from this place, but even here among the arctic shadows, fear cannot hide. Its blackness swirls in a controlled spin down his right arm, over his well-formed bicep, around his elbow, circling around his forearm and sliding from his palm down his middle finger where it puddles beneath his throne. Tendrils branch out across the stone floor seeking, seeking.
He cups his hand, allowing the fear to pool there. His fingers close around the sticky substance and he prods it, molds it like a human child playing with a handful of clay. All the while, his eyes rip into the demon before him.
After a slow descent, the Prince’s feet touch upon the seat of his throne—the graven dragon behind him. His legs and waist are wrapped in cords of white. His torso and arms are bare. Very little separates him from the other archangels. And yet so much.
Pearla watches the Prince. The Creator gave him beauty—a beauty unrivaled—and he’s taken great pains to preserve it. His time here in Abaddon has kept him from the damage his hordes have suffered in the light of the Celestial. Pearla’s heard stories of the Prince venturing above, but his untarnished appearance alone is proof that his time to heal greatly exceeds that of his minions.
“Sit.” His celestial lips are still, unable to vocalize anything but animalistic rages—like those assembled, like the demon chained to the floor, like every angel he led astray—but they all hear. They all obey. It’s sad, really. His song, like his face, was far superior to all others. Now his mouth is good for nothing.
Wings rustle and talons scratch as countless demons crawl and flap toward rough shelves cut into the cliffs surrounding the hall. The demon chained to the floor drops to his knees.
Humility, even false humility, is appreciated here.
The Prince doesn’t sit, though. No. He stands on his throne, his legs spread wide, looking down at the demon trembling on the floor.
“It’s unfortunate, brother, to see you in chains. Again.”
(1) Print copies of Angel Eyes and Broken Wings (US Only)
(5) Print copies of Broken Wings (US only)
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