Burning Sage
By Deena Remiel
Sage Wilcot, an accomplished scientist, has set her sights on her lifelong obsession, studying the volcanoes of the island of Santorini. Once there, though, she gets more than she bargained for. The dormant volcano is waking and shaking things up in the process.
An enigmatic stranger—from a mythical ancient city—comes to her rescue and challenges her to believe in the unbelievable. Will she take the huge leap of faith for love’s sake or stay cloistered in her fortress of certainty and solitude?
“Well, now what?” She brushed the sandy grit off her hands and sloshed her way to drier land. “I’m here. On a grumbling volcano. Alone. What the hell was I thinking?” She shook her head at her own audacity and stupidity.
“You were thinking of me, perhaps? I can only hope.”
Sage spun around at the sound of the low-timbered voice. “Emmanouel?”
He stepped out of the shadowy darkness and outstretched his arms in a welcoming gesture. “In the flesh. And you, Sage, are too, I see. Looking splendid.”
“Yes, much less dusty and grimy. It’s amazing what a shower and some clean clothes can do.” Really, Sage? That’s your big comeback?
He laughed lightly and sauntered closer to her. “So were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Thinking of me.”
“In a way.”
“In what way?”
“Annoyance, actually.”
“Why is that?”
“You disappeared on me earlier. You were following me out of the hole we were in, and then when I went to introduce you to a colleague, you were gone. I could have used some backup on my story about my face being injured and how you fixed it with that watery stuff of yours. See? It’s all gone. No cut, no bruise….”
“Just beautiful, soft skin that I long to touch.” His husky voice sent thrilling pulses through her body and a tingly sensation across her skin. He reached out, and with the back of his hand, tried to caress her cheek. Barely controlling her burgeoning lust, she stepped back.
“Now cut that out. I’m trying to be angry with you.”
“I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“Well, I can’t now. You kinda fizzled it out of me.”
“Oh, good. So now I can touch you, yes?”
“No!” she huffed, and stepped farther out of his reach. “You can tell me where you went and why you’re here now. How did you know I’d be here?”
“I never left. I can never leave.”
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It was the mystique of Arizona’s history and landscape that called to Deena and catapulted her career as an author. When she’s not writing romance and urban fantasy in the wee small hours of the morning or in the deep, dark of night, Deena teaches language arts to middle school students. She currently lives in Gilbert, Arizona with her husband and two children, but New Jersey will always tug at her heartstrings. She believes in angels and loves connecting with her fans, so find her at deenaremiel.com.
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