There is a moment in every angel romance that changes the air in the room. It is not the moment someone is rescued. It is not the sweep of wings or the crack of divine power splitting the dark. Those are beautiful, yes — but they are not the moment that makes a reader stop…
There are hours in the Pink City that don’t belong to anyone. After the last café chair has been folded and the final streetcar has made its final pass down Fleurons Boulevard, trailing jasmine and wayward petals. After the cobblestones have cooled and the tulip streetlights have settled into their amber vigil over empty streets….
There is a particular kind of danger that does not look like danger at all. It looks like laughter. It looks like warmth. It looks like a man who brings sweets and silk and sunlight into a room that did not realize it needed either. In the Pink City, Soran moves through the world as…