Coming 2022

But, If They Have Wings  A WINGS Prequel


Will any of us survive?

New World
A Scifi Romance

Once you hear it, you'll never walk away.

And more, stay tuned...

Snippet from, 'Revelations: The ORDER, Book 1', Coming September 2022

Unedited, subject to change,

Copyrighted to Sandra R Neeley and Chris Storm 2022.


This snippet is the last of a previous chapter and the next full chapter. I had to include the last of the previous chapter to help set it up. 

Oh, and before you ask... TBB means Tall, Bronzed, and Broody. A fitting acronym for this particular male.

End of Chapter 3


The verbal command was reinforced with an unsubtle mental one, and instantly every human in the room fell silent. Shock covered their faces as some attempted to respond, but found they could not operate their vocal cords. Some even attempted to rise to their feet, but Rhave simply held his hand up and telekinetically pinned them in place.

Their security and bodyguards could not respond either, frozen in place by the sheer force of Rhave’s dominance and power.

Rhave had had enough.

He rose to his feet and walked around the table where the Archons had sat themselves, facing the large U-shaped conference table where they had arranged the human representatives of the Group of Twenty-Five, the twenty-five countries that primarily contributed to the funding of the United Nations as a whole.

Striding to stand in the center of the room, Rhave slowly turned his head so he could address each and every one of them as he spoke. “For the last two hours,” he said in a normal tone, although his power continued to pin the humans in place, “We have tried things your way. We have tried to be diplomatic, we have tried to go through the channels you humans have set up, but enough is enough. We do not have time for this.”

The song and dance of trying to navigate touchy human feelings, of presenting evidence in a manner that would not upset the delicate balance of diplomatic relationships between countries that hated each other, had been pointless.

Put simply, the humans just did not want to listen. Even the countries who had already seen the evidence, who had spent the last few decades building up their defenses with the technology they had subtly presented to them, had decided they knew better than their neighbors—as if they all weren’t the same species, as if they all didn’t share the same planet.

“It seems that words have little meaning, so I will speak in a language you can all understand.” Rhave casually shrugged off his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor as he unfastened his cuffs. One by one, he popped the buttons of his dress shirt, tugged it out of his slacks and peeled it off, leaving his sculpted torso bare.

The humans’ eyes widened as they watched him undress, and if he wasn’t so frustrated by their intransigent natures, he would have smirked at the fear and shock – or the lust – he read in their minds.

‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, I’m having my first sex dream! Jesus, I swear if you don’t make me wake up early, I’ll go to Church every Sunday for the next month, at least!’

Rhave jerked as her voice, that low, raspy twang that drove him crazy, sounded behind him. He didn’t have time for this, not now! Unfortunately, his momentary loss of concentration allowed the humans to slip free from his control.

There was a moment of dead silence before shouts and cries filled the conference room. Guns were pulled from hidden holsters, chairs were knocked over as the representatives scrambled to get away, and all Rhave could hear over the chaos were his little phantom’s loud, piercing wolf whistles between her chanted, ‘Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!’

He really was following Helel’s descent into insanity.

Chapter 4

It took a few moments for Rory to realize she was dreaming, but once it registered just exactly what was right before her very eyes, she fought to keep from dropping to her knees in thanks. Still, she made a quick Sign of the Cross and canted her eyes heavenward as she muttered aloud, “Holy Mary, Mother of God, I’m having my first sex dream! Jesus, I swear if you don’t make me wake up early, I’ll go to Church every Sunday for the next month, at least!”

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the best Good Christian Girl, and maybe praying to have a sex dream bordered on being downright blasphemous, but dang it, she hadn’t even had a kiss since her senior prom five years ago, and that night had almost been enough to make her swear off men for life! She deserved a little something for being a good girl, right?

Granted, she had thought her first sex dream would involve satin sheets, rose petals, and romantic candlelight, not some fancy conference room filled with official looking people clustered around a table like they were at the UN or something.

But there was TBB in all his half-nekkid glory, and that was enough to make her completely block out the rest of her surroundings.

TBB truly was glorious, all burnished bronze skin without a hint of any tan lines, and this time he was dressed in a black business suit that emphasized his powerful build. Well, half-dressed, since she had just watched him strip off his dress shirt to reveal an incredible torso!

He had shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of a thousand worlds, sculpted pecs that looked more like armor than flesh-and-blood, and a chiseled abdomen, with just the lightest dusting of hair across his pecs and a small treasure trail that disappeared into his black slacks. His thick, muscular arms would make Chris Hemsworth weep in envy, and he had big, prominent veins that could probably draw vampires like flies to honey!

With his normally unruly hair slicked back to reveal his high forehead and his beard trimmed and neatly framing his handsome face, she really couldn’t help herself. The tiny devil on her shoulder made her do it.

Bringing her fingers to her lips, she blew a sharp wolf-whistle and started chanting. “Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!”

Okay, so her little devil was trying to catch the bastard’s attention and make him acknowledge her presence this time, now that she knew that he knew she was there! This was her sex dream, dang it, and if he was going to perform as Mr. Businessman Stripper, she wanted the Full Monty!

“Darn it, if I’m gonna have more of these Chippendale’s dreams, I need to start carrying singles in my nightie!”

For a brief moment, TBB seemed frozen in what she would swear was shock. Then he suddenly sprang into motion. Quicker than her blink of surprise, he rushed towards her, spreading his arms wide as if to grab her, but that wasn’t what had her standing there in utter stupefaction.

No, what had rendered her deaf, dumb, and blind to everything else, were the massive angel wings that exploded out of his back. Stretching impossibly behind him, the feathered wings were a shocking, brilliant white, except for the primary feathers at the outer edge — no, those were solid gold that glinted bladelike in the bright lights overhead as they swooped inward to surround her within TBB’s embrace.

It was only then she heard the gunfire, a sound she was sadly all too familiar with — not only because the men in her family had a fetish for hunting, but also because the neighborhood she lived in wasn’t exactly the safest.

“Don’t move, little phantom,” TBB said as he stared down into her eyes. “I’ve got you.”

Rory started hyperventilating.

TBB was holding her against his bare, nekkid chest.

TBB had great, big angel wings.

TBB was really talking to her, something he had never done in the hundreds of dreams she had had of him over the years.

Rory swallowed. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Do you not know me? Do you haunt more than me, little phantom? I’d have thought you were only mine, since you are a product of my imagination.”

“Little phantom… you think I’m a phantom?” she asked, ogling his chest since she was pressed up against it. With his huge frame engulfing her, she was eye level with the center of said chest, and had a front row seat to the show. She could see the play of muscle beneath bronzed flesh, see the shadows formed by the cleft between his pectorals, she could even smell the warm scent of his skin. He smelled danged good for a dream, all sandalwood and musk and male.

It was a good thing this was just a dream, otherwise she might succumb to an attack of the vapors like an old-fashioned Southern Belle! Instead, before she realized what she was doing, she was poking her finger against one firm pec to see if it was as solid as it looked.

For the record, it was. They both were. Solid. Very, very solid.

Rhave chuckled, which caused his chest to shake and his pectoral muscles to bounce like those bodybuilders liked to do. With a crooked finger, he tilted her chin up until she was staring directly into those striking eyes of his.

“I am Rhave, as you well know since you exist only in my head. ‘Little phantom,’ because you are not real. You are just the manifestation of my insanity, but I am too far gone to the madness to ignore you anymore. Saurin save me. At least if I am to join Helel in his madness, I have been blessed with such a beautiful phantasm.”

“So this is a dream, then?” she asked for confirmation.

“Of sorts,” Rhave agreed.

Rory watched his pouty lips as he spoke to her, sensual even in simply speaking. She looked into his beautiful golden and emerald colored eyes as they searched her own. “Well, if this is a dream, then it’s mine to do what I want, right?”

Rhave cocked his head just ever so slightly as he wondered what her comment meant. But he didn’t have to wonder for long.

Rory went up on her tiptoes, not hesitating to press her lips to his.

Stunned at first, Rhave hesitated before he responded, pulling his wings in closer around them to be sure that his brethren didn’t see exactly what was happening within the shelter of his wings. Then he tightened his hold on Rory with one arm, while his other hand moved higher to cradle the back of her head as he returned her kiss, and filled it with the passion of thousands of nights spent with her in his thoughts.

Rory gave as good as she got, finally pulling back breathless as she lifted a hand and fanned herself. “Oh, my word! That’s probably the best kiss I’ve ever gotten. Even better than Danny Benton in tenth grade!”

Rhave’s brow furrowed briefly. He felt affronted to be compared to an adolescent. “For a hallucination, you kiss surprisingly well. Although you are perhaps a little too talkative.”

Rory’s gaze fixed on his face and it took her a minute to process his words. She later blamed being struck stupid by his wings and the kiss for the embarrassingly long time it took for her to realize what he had said.

Finally gasping in outrage, she slapped her hand against his pec—which sadly, hurt her more than it apparently hurt him, and pushed herself away from him. “You son-of-a-bitch, this is my damned sex dream. Why’d you have to go and open your mouth and ruin it?” She asked as she shook the sting from her palm before rhetorically asking with a hiss, “Why are the pretty ones always bastards?”

Pushing her way out of his arms, which reluctantly dropped from holding her to his sides, she turned to storm off only to get a face full of feathers.

“Ooph!” Tossing up her hands in irritation, she exclaimed, “That’s it, I’m outta here! I get enough crap at work and at home, I don’t need to put up with it when I’m trying to sleep!”

With a shove, she pushed his wings apart and stomped out of the protective cage of his embrace. It was then she got an eyeful of the rest of the room.

It was a striking tableau, like something out of one of those superhero movies Augie loved so much. Men and women in fancy suits were frozen in mid-step, their faces twisted in expressions of shock, dismay, or rage, while four other winged, and half-nekkid, men strode through their unmoving ranks.

When a familiar redheaded guy, one who looked like an Angelic Highlander, turned towards her and Rhave, Rory shook her head, “Nope.” Flashing both hands up she brandished peace signs before twisting her hands to flip everyone the bird. “Peace out, bird boys! This is far more than I signed on for.”

Thankfully, Rory had been reading up on lucid dreaming since she was a teenager and first started having these dreams about TBB. Dropping her hands, she pinched the fleshy part of her left hand between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand and chanted the ‘magic phrase’ that would let her wake up.

“There’s no fucking place like home.”

And just like that, she jolted upright in her bed back in the tiny room of her tiny apartment. Squinting at the obnoxious red, glowing numbers of her alarm clock, she groaned. “4:00 A.M. A whole whopping two hours of sleep and I didn’t even get a happy ending from my sex dream!”

Rolling herself back up in the afghan her Memaw had knitted for her sixteenth birthday, she punched her pillow back into shape before settling back down to try and get a little more sleep, this time hopefully without any dreams. “Not that it was much of a sex dream, but damn, it could have been.”

She lay there, considering what had just happened. Suddenly she was arching her back in an awkward pose. “Stop, freaking itching,” she said, rubbing her back against her bedding. Frustrated that she couldn’t reach her itch, she sat up and yanked her nightgown off. As it fell to the afghan lying across her body, the tip of a single white feather peeked from inside her gown.

“What the hell?” she asked, snatching up the feather and looking closely at it. She lifted it to her nose, closed her eyes and inhaled. Sure enough, it smelled like Rhave.

Her eyes opened slowly as she held the feather protectively against her chest. “Wasn’t a dream,” she whispered.


‘What was that?’ Kaine's telepathic inquiry drew Rhave from his intense contemplation of the empty space before him.

Giving his head a shake to dispel the shock that his hallucinations were growing even more vivid and lifelike, Rhave looked up to meet his friend's concerned eyes. Shrugging his wings back, Rhave turned away and let his eyes travel over the still panicked, if frozen, crowd. With a single thought, he resumed control of the psychic bindings, allowing the others to relax their own energy — not that it took much energy to control this few, particularly when none of them possessed even the smallest spark of power. Their minds might be slippery, but they were shockingly easy to control. Something Rhave normally hated to do, but his patience had been pushed to its limits. He feared he was running on borrowed time. Before he succumbed to madness, he needed to get his people and the humans working together and moving forward, if any of them had any hope of survival.

Now, if only he could get his body back under control. Thankful the cloak of his wings had hidden the obvious proof the effect his little phantom had had upon him, Rhave briefly closed his eyes and forced his desire back down, shoving the memory of her scent and taste deep into the darkest recesses of his mind. After a moment, as he felt his cock soften enough that it would not be so obvious through his slacks, Rhave opened his eyes and tucked his wings back.

‘Nothing. A momentary lapse. We have other concerns right now.’

Aloud, to the rest of the conference, Rhave spoke in a voice that vibrated with power. “Now, if we are quite done with this idiocy and everyone is prepared to act like rational adults, you may all return to your seats and we will explain what needs to happen if humanity has any hope of survival.”

Holding up a finger, Rhave continued, “Oh, and about your weapons…” Flicking his finger, he telekinetically seized the guns, both held and still concealed, and the room watched in silence as guns ranging from 9mms to AK-47s, drifted lazily through the air before he dropped them with a clatter onto the table behind him. In a droll tone, he added, “There, now you won’t hurt yourselves.”

Like a spider at the center of its web, Rhave felt along the infinitesimal psychic threads that he had laid upon the minds of the humans present in the room. Relaxing the grip he held on them allowed the humans to move and speak once more, but he kept the threads resting loosely upon them much like a rider held a horse’s reins. Noting the rather sickly expression on more than a few faces, he said evenly, “Those of you who drink may wish to partake in liquid libation. It may assist in digesting the fact that humans are not alone in this universe. Or on this planet.”

‘Smart,’ Zacc snarked mentally as he stripped off the tattered remains of his ruined dress shirt. The psychic thread that connected them was brilliant and clear, a connection shared by all members of the Order remaining on this tiny rock that circled around a tiny star in this tiny corner of the universe. Some threads were dim and dark, dulled by time and distance, while others had been permanently silenced, burnt to little more than ash and whispers. ‘It seems you have all the little flies firmly trapped within your parlor, First Archon.’

‘Ugh, Rhave was always overly fond of those wee, creepy, eight-legged bastards,’ Arkaine needlessly interjected, directing his remark to the other Archons as he casually swung his massive two-handed blade in a single hand until it rested lightly upon his bare shoulder. Noticing that not a single human had moved, despite the easing of the compulsions, he made a shooing gesture with his free hand. “Go on now, get yourselves sorted. We’re wasting time here.”

“For the record,” Khalil had returned to his seat, his fingers steepled in front of his face with his elbows resting upon the table, although his gold-laced wings were spread behind him. Now, however, he rose to his feet and ran his dark eyes around the room, “Every moment we waste here is another light year closer the Origin have moved their fleet towards Earth.”

“The only reason they haven’t already reached this planet,” Zacc casually strolled back to join Khalil, the twang in his voice as clear as the polished cowboy boots on his feet, “Is because they’re cleansing other planets along their path, entire worlds they have deemed failures in their grand cosmic scheme. And I hate to be the one to break it to you, but they consider this world to be more than a failure – they consider it an embarrassment. An abomination. A blemish that needs to be wiped from the Akashic records entirely.”

“Who…what are you?” Leterc, the Frenchman, was the first to regain his wits, bolstered not only by the bottle of cognac he was guzzling like water but also by the cigarette that was already half gone.

“We have lived among you since before you started recording history.” Rhave said, “You have known us by many names throughout the Ages as guardians and messengers. We have been called gods and daevas, spirits and demons, but perhaps the most enduring name for us comes from the Greeks, who dubbed us the angelos. We call ourselves the Order, and although we removed ourselves from directly interfering with human affairs more than two thousand years ago, we can no longer remain in the shadows. This is our home, it is under imminent threat, and we are here to help. Now, let us begin.”