See the Tour stops at the bottom
Best selling author L.M. Pruitt has done it again! Her paranormal
romance series WINGED is one volume deeper and has even more hot guys, tough chicks and ass-kicking
action.
L.M. Pruitt's Winged Series contains explicit content, sexual situations,
violence and scenes involving drug abuse ... Reader discretion is advised.
ABOUT L.M. Pruitt
L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as
long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability
to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she's killed
bamboo. Twice. She is the author of the Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A
Frankie Post Novel. Her current series, WINGED, is about the choice one woman makes after dying.
The first four books in the series are available now. Ms. Pruitt is releasing the next book in the series,
ALLIANCE, November 2013.
Check out Best-selling Author L.M. Pruitt on any of the sites BELOW
I fell from the Talmadge Bridge the week before I turned thirty. I was
given a choice: Go to Heaven. Go back to my life in Savannah. Or spend eternity fighting evil under the
direction of the archangels. I chose the demons--and the angels. I chose the Winged.
Uprising
Lost
HuntAlliance The Fallen have one goal--storm the gates of Heaven and
reclaim their heritage. The Winged have one mission--to prevent it all costs. From North America
to Africa, Europe to South American, the stage is being set for the final battle, the one to end all
worlds, and with it comes an ugly truth. Keep your friends close--and your enemies closer. Praise For The
Winged Series EXCELLENT BOOK. THE characters are unforgettable and THE STORY LINE IS wonderful. Makes me think
of the Bible and its stories of the Angels. I love the mixture of creatures and the time lines. I LOVE this series and I cannot wait for more!! I love Pruitt's imagination. The story
is fantastic from the first sentence of the first book and I could not put these books down! I read this book over 5 months ago and am still having trouble putting my thoughts into
words. This 3rd installment in the Winged Series by L. M. Pruitt was a gut wrenching read for me. It was
dark, thought provoking and hit me between the eyes
Page 4 of 6.
Buy It Here Now!
Want to Get to Know Alliance better? Want to see a bit of the Ass-kicking action,
tough chicks and hot guys? Check out this excerpt from L.M. Pruitt's latest Alliance
“If we’re going to do this,
we need to do it now.” Raquel’s voice in my ear startled me and I pulled too tight on Kaleanne’s strap.
He waited until I rectified the mistake before continuing. “The longer we stand here, the more nervous
this bunch will get.”
“Let’s go, then.” Stepping back, I resisted the urge to check my gun one last time. Looking
at the six soldiers—I couldn’t in all fairness refer to them as recruits anymore—in front of me, I forced a
smile. “Last one in the church has medic duty.”
Aron kicked the door open, blinding sunlight flooding the small room. Sketching a half bow
in my direction, he said, “Ladies first.”
“Bet your ass.” I drew my gun as I sprinted out the door, finger on the trigger against every
safety mandate. I caught sight of gray wings at the far right edge of my vision, ten or fifteen feet out.
I pulled on the trigger with only the slightest of aims, barely feeling the recoil. The only indication I hit
anything was the howl of pain and rage.
Hopefully it would prove a big enough distraction to aid the others. Even one second might
make all the difference.
Something with tentacles and the head of a man charged from the left. I took the time to
aim for the center of its forehead, firing two shots before continuing my sprint. One probably would
have sufficed—the bullets were supernatural, guaranteed to impart maximum damage.
The tentacles just freaked me out.
I hesitated at the next target—only because of Barry. But when Delilah raised a sword as
long as my torso, self-preservation overcame any possible sense of guilt. My only concession to her
father was to aim for her shoulder—both of them, to be on the safe side. She dropped the sword and
bent double, screaming, and I leaped over her.
“You shot my sister.” Aron drew level with me, not winded in the least despite the run.
“You’re my father’s friend and you shot her.”
“Twice. His friend, not hers.” I took down another demon, something with
honest to God horns and a tail. “Less talking, more shooting.”
Tour Stops:
NOV. 12
Amy Ahai
Nov.13
Nov.14
“You’re up late.” James sat down next to me, grunting under his breath. “Or rather early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I took a long drag from the cigarette I’d bummed off Lawerence earlier in the day and forgotten about until only a few minutes ago. “It’s….”
“Too quiet?” He laughed and shook his head, his dark brown hair just long and shaggy enough to cover his one good eye. “I know. I never really thought of Wyoming or Rio or St. Petersburg at loud but now….” He trailed off, staring up at the sky and sighing. “Now I realize how noisy they really were.”
“It makes me nervous. The quiet, I mean.” Taking another drag, I glanced around, more from nerves than guilt. Neither Michael nor Raphael cared about the occasional cigarette, especially considering the fact both of them were running through cigars at an almost alarming rate these days. “Like something bad is coming and there’s no way in hell I can stop it.”
“Not too far from the truth.” Plucking the dangling cigarette from my fingers, he pulled in a lungful of smoke, huffing it back out on a rush of breath. “By all accounts it looks we’re going to be around to see the end of the world.”
“More like we’re going to have front row seats.” Leaning back on my elbows, I studied the sky, picking out random constellations. I’d never had much interest in astronomy but in the middle of the night in a locked down camp there wasn’t much else to do. “And having seen the lead actor, I’m not too keen on seeing this production make it out of rehearsals.”
“Steering us away from the theatre metaphor before it becomes ridiculous….” He paused, stubbing out the dying butt before dropping it in the coffee can I kept nearby. “Is Azazel really that bad?”
Against my will, the memory of an enormous pure white angel with flowing locks and massive wings rising from the depths of the earth sprang to the forefront of my mind. Taking a moment to get my suddenly ragged breathing under control, I nodded. “Yeah. He’s that bad.”
James sighed, shaking his head again. “Great. Just great.”
“Barry, I don’t feel like playing Monopoly with you. Besides, I’ve told you a hundred times, you need at least three people for the game to even be worth the headache.”
“Monopoly would be the excruciatingly long board game Danielle is so fond of, correct? Why in the name of everything holy would you believe Barry would want to play such a thing?”
I opened my eyes and stared at Michael, sitting on the coffee table. “I’m either dreaming or hallucinating. I’m fine with either one, I’ll worry about the health implications later.”
“You’re not doing either.” He leaned forward, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers trailed down the line of my jaw, his thumb pressing into my lower lip. “And for the first time in weeks, neither am I.”
“Thank God.” I grabbed his shirt, yanking him toward me. Our mouths collided, teeth and tongues fighting with each other in a war nobody was going to lose. When the breath was all but gone from my lungs I came up for air, sucking it down in one huge gulp before attacking him again.
Fabric ripped, his shirt, mine, it was impossible to tell and I didn’t care. All that mattered was his skin under my hands, muscles and scars and a fever burning from the inside out. His teeth clamped down on my shoulder, fierce enough I knew there’d be a bruise, the kind that would last for days.
I wanted more.
Suddenly we were on our feet, stumbling down the hall. I pulled at his belt, yanking it free of his pants even as he did the same to mine. We hit one wall and then another, a picture frame sliding off its hook and crashing to the floor. My bra snapped, the elastic pinging on my already over sensitive skin. When we finally reached the tiny room I’d claimed for my own, we collapsed on the twin bed.
“Boots.” I moaned the word out, twisting my head until he could sink his teeth into the curve of my neck. “We have to get them off.”
“Forget the boots.” He yanked my pants down over my hips, shoving my thighs apart. He jerked on his zipper, reaching into his pants and freeing his cock. “I can’t wait.”
He rammed deep into me, the shaft stretching me, the head slamming against my cervix. My shocked gasp was a mixture of pain and pleasure, my nails digging in to his torso. The denim restrained my legs, tightening my inner muscles almost to the point of pain.
There was nothing romantic here, nothing soft or gentle. Only need and want and the kind of hunger that promised to never, ever be fully sated.
“If we’re going to do this, we need to do it now.” Raquel’s voice in my ear startled me and I pulled too tight on Kaleanne’s strap. He waited until I rectified the mistake before continuing. “The longer we stand here, the more nervous this bunch will get.”
“Let’s go, then.” Stepping back, I resisted the urge to check my gun one last time. Looking at the six soldiers—I couldn’t in all fairness refer to them as recruits anymore—in front of me, I forced a smile. “Last one in the church has medic duty.”
Aron kicked the door open, blinding sunlight flooding the small room. Sketching a half bow in my direction, he said, “Ladies first.”
“Bet your ass.” I drew my gun as I sprinted out the door, finger on the trigger against every safety mandate. I caught sight of gray wings at the far right edge of my vision, ten or fifteen feet out. I pulled on the trigger with only the slightest of aims, barely feeling the recoil. The only indication I hit anything was the howl of pain and rage.
Hopefully it would prove a big enough distraction to aid the others. Even one second might make all the difference.
Something with tentacles and the head of a man charged from the left. I took the time to aim for the center of its forehead, firing two shots before continuing my sprint. One probably would have sufficed—the bullets were supernatural, guaranteed to impart maximum damage.
The tentacles just freaked me out.
I hesitated at the next target—only because of Barry. But when Delilah raised a sword as long as my torso, self-preservation overcame any possible sense of guilt. My only concession to her father was to aim for her shoulder—both of them, to be on the safe side. She dropped the sword and bent double, screaming, and I leaped over her.
“You shot my sister.” Aron drew level with me, not winded in the least despite the run. “You’re my father’s friend and you shot her.”
“Twice. His friend, not hers.” I took down another demon, something with honest to God horns and a tail. “Less talking, more shooting.”
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