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Provenance

Lost Souls #2


by L. M. Bain

Provenance by L.M. Bain After their escape from hell, Anna and Orenda attempt to live a life of normalcy, but for how long? After Orenda’s celestial origins are brought to light, Orenda finds himself face to face with his progenitor, the being who abandoned him before he was even born. After the unexpected death of his mother, Orenda is presented with a proposition: Become his father’s successor as General of the Divine Council, but accepting that role, will mean he’ll have to leave the love of his life behind.

Against Remiel’s judgement, Anna is allowed into heaven, but all is not as it seems inside the Garden. Anna and Orenda soon find themselves threatened by a staggering betrayal, lurking behind a veil of holiness, and an unforeseen request from Yahweh: Sire an heir who will become the next vessel of the all mighty, Creator.


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Release Date: May 11, 2021
Genre: Paranormal Romance

A Red Satin Romance


Excerpt

Chapter One
~ Normal Life ~

 

April

Present Time

 

“Orenda, wake up, wake up!” Orenda could hear a melodic voice whispering from afar.

Orenda opened his eyes and felt a cold rush travel from the bottom of his bare feet, through his legs and chest. He squatted and touched the cold surface below, enthralled by the faint blue light that emanated from beneath. He was naked, standing over a frozen lake. Orenda looked around, feeling a shiver run down his spine when his eyes met the infinite darkness that surrounded him. He lifted both hands right up to his eyes. Nothing. He could see nothing before his face. An indistinctive whisper murmured by his left ear as a gust of wind blew from behind him, tousling his hair around his face.

“Orenda, Orenda...” the voice insisted, calling out for him.

Orenda turned around, then shielded his eyes from a blinding light that shone mesmerizing at the end of a path. The voice persisted, whispering aloud from the darkness behind him. Orenda started to make his way toward the light, feeling an invisible pull from the darkness at his heels with every step, as if the void below and behind refused to let him go.

“Orenda, wake up. Someone is knocking on the door.”

Orenda recognized Anna’s soothing voice gently whispering to him. He smiled. His eyes remained closed as he felt her soft breath wash over his face. “Five more minutes,” Orenda mumbled and nuzzled sleepily against her neck, pulling her closer to his body.

“Orenda, wake up.” Anna giggled as she pulled away from his tight embrace. “Someone is knocking.”

“Let them they need to go away. It’s too early.” Orenda yawned and opened his eyes half-mast, glancing at the vibrant emeralds that gazed back at him.

A childish grin drew across his face as he put a hand over her breast. Anna smiled and rolled her eyes but didn’t push his hand away. He rolled over and leaned in to kiss her while his hand caressed with semi-restrained gentleness around her bosom.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Anna and Orenda had escaped from Sheol. Two weeks of bliss and discovery, of learning more and more about each other. Two weeks of peace. Two weeks filled with the most incredible and unconditional love Orenda had ever felt for and from someone. Two weeks of normalcy, of dividing household chores, movies in the twilight, and adventures for two. Two weeks since he had brought Anna back to the land of the living, hoping that she was able to feel normal, once again. Orenda hoped for Anna to feel as if her long thirty-some years of damnation had been but a blink in her eye.

Anna closed her eyes as Orenda’s hands moved without restraint over her body. A cloud of ecstasy had begun to wash over him, flowing unbridled with anticipation. Orenda pulled back and stared into her yearning eyes. She leaned forward, eager to continue tasting that magic from his lips; he didn’t meet her halfway.

“I hate it when you do that,” Anna reproached while a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin drew all over his face, “it makes me feel like a beggar.” She pouted before his lips sealed over hers.

Orenda dove in deep as he kissed her, feeling a big tug at the seam of his boxers while his free hand roamed around her figure, having found its way under the white tee she wore. He loved it when she wore his t-shirts to bed. Even after washing them, they always smelled like her. Like fresh summer breeze and cherries. Like unconditional love and peace.

Anna smiled. Orenda pulled back and pinned her under him, kissing the crook of her neck while a rush of desire engorged his nether regions even more. He began to pull the shirt above her head in a slow and teasing cadence but didn’t take it off completely. Anna was now bound and blindfolded. Her hands were pinned above her head while her luscious, perky breasts were set free, exposed for his delight. Orenda took his time, exciting each of her peaks into shivering hardness. Anna moaned at the slick, teasing foreplay of his tongue.

“No panties, huh?” Orenda whispered in her ear, feeling her body quivering beneath him.

In a jiff, he had rid himself of the tightness from his undergarments, placing himself right between her parted legs. Still holding the shirt over her face, he placed his hardness at her entrance, then slithered in slow, very slow. Anna tilted her head and arched her body, consuming every inch of him.

“Oh, baby,” Orenda muttered, “you are always ready for me...” he whispered out of breath, feeling the impending surge of climax.

“Orenda, open the door!”

Orenda stopped, having recognized the all too familiar voice yell as the pounding on the door resumed.

“Your car is in its parking spot, so I know you are in there. Open the door!” the voice demanded.

“Son of a bitch,” Orenda grunted; his manhood had gone limp. In haste, he moved away from Anna and stood up, feeling very upset.

Orenda glanced over at Anna, who’d just pulled the shirt back down over her body and stared at him. He walked around the room in anger, like a caged animal that had just been taunted. As much as he tried, he could not hide the semblance of anger and frustration that had washed over him.

“Orenda!” the voice outside the door hollered louder than before.

“One second!” Orenda shouted back, leaning out the bedroom door.

Cursing under his breath, he pulled a pair of black sweats from his dresser drawer. He didn’t bother to put on a shirt as he strode past the bed. Orenda walked into the kitchen and adjusted his crotch.

He paused and looked over at the granite kitchen counter, focusing his attention on the fly that had just landed on a stale, three-day-old doughnut. He reached the door and sighed, taking a quick look into the oval-shaped mirror that hung by the front door as he focused on the still sleepy visage of his blue eyes. He didn’t want this visit, not now. Not ever. Orenda turned the door handle and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His lips curved downward. This was an involuntary reaction every time he thought of talking or seeing the person on the other side of the door. Exhaling aloud, he pulled the door open.

The woman turned around, surprised, as if she wasn’t really expecting him to receive her. Her cheeks blushed at the sight of his bare torso and ruffled hair. Orenda stood at the threshold and looked at her with disdain. She looked thinner than the last time he saw her. The pink skirt and turquoise blouse she wore, hung loosely around her figure. Her skin seemed to have lost all color, and the dark circles under her eyes suggested her insomnia had returned. The woman’s curls no longer hung playful at each side of her smooth face, for she had cut all her hair off. She looked like a lost little boy, staring back at him with those Irish green eyes and reddish freckles that splashed the entire area around her button nose. The woman’s eyes sparkled, her lips curved up into a smile as she leaned forward and embraced him. She smelled like cigarettes.

Orenda stood motionless in utter disbelief; his arms hung at his sides as she wrapped her arms tightly around him and nuzzled his chest. She sighed, squeezing him as hard as she could. Orenda did not know what to do. Put his arms around her? Push her back?

The woman noticed his lack of enthusiasm and slowly moved away, appearing both flustered and embarrassed by the awkward situation. “I am sorry... I, uh, I am sorry,” the woman apologized as she fidgeted with her hair.

Orenda looked down at the woman, and their eyes met. She quickly averted his unwelcoming gaze as she clutched her oversized purse before darting past him. She stopped in front of the cherry-wood coffee table and placed her turquoise bag down on it with familiarity, then looked around.

“I see you have not changed the decoration.” The woman smirked.

A crash of memories waltzed through Orenda as he could vividly recall her decorating the place all by herself when they lived happier times together.

“You changed the locks,” she said. Orenda noticed the sadness in her voice as she turned toward him.

He nodded.

“Why?”

Why? Why? Orenda could not believe what he was hearing, “Because you don’t live here anymore, remember?” Orenda’s eyes stared at the woman filled with coldness, as a swirl of anger rose up in his chest.

She sighed. “We need to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about, Emma.” Orenda’s voice was unyielding.

“Yes, we do. You failed to show up to our divorce hearing. Because you filed it as default, the judge claimed that since there were no joint assets or children involved,” Emma said and lowered her gaze, “that he was granting you the divorce, even though you failed to appear. We are officially divorced.” she said wistfully then grabbed her purse and ruffled through it, before handing him a copy of the divorce decree.

Orenda grabbed the documents and noticed the official state seal on the front page and sighed, feeling a sense of relief.

“Where were you?”

“I was out of town,” Orenda said and looked toward the bedroom. He wasn’t lying.

“I, I came to talk to you because...” Emma said and walked toward him, “when you did not show up, I thought that you had changed your mind about the divorce.”

Orenda furrowed his brow. “I would never change my mind about the divorce. As a matter of fact, I am glad it is finally over,” he said with disdain as he walked toward the refrigerator and served himself a glass of water. “Is that all you came to tell me?”

“No,” Emma said and looked down. Tears had welled in her eyes. “I wanted to see you. We need to talk.”

“Emma.” Orenda placed both palms over the kitchen counter as he leaned forward. The angle of his stance made him appear larger than he was. He felt like a nervous grizzly, ready to attack, “You have been gone for over three years; we have nothing left to talk about.” Orenda felt his patience running thin.

Emma looked away from his fault-finding gaze and shook her head, then she sprinted toward him. “Yes, yes, we do. I am sorry, Orenda. I was stupid, I am very stupid.” She put her hand over her forehead. “What I did was foolish. I, uh, I am sorry. I am sorry for everything, please forgive me.” she begged.

Orenda felt a lump in his throat as he stared into her tear-filled eyes, “Truthfully,” he said and straightened up, “forgiveness is a mighty big word for such a small person.”

Orenda glanced down at his ex-wife as a cloud of memories fogged his senses.

 

 

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