When a Good Angel Falls~Steam Hop

Steam Hop With His Good Angel #MFRWsteam #MFRWOrg

September 2020: 
Welcome, everyone. Featured today is a futuristic fantasy I wrote for Winter Solstice 2012. 

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS was published on October 23, 2008, and written a couple of years before. I used the societal trends at the time, mostly heard on Coast to Coast am radio, to project and create this novel.  

Yes, Sedona and Volcano's love story is an erotic romance. I have provided several excerpts because it gives more insight into the story. The last one is the SEXCERPT. 

Image of Sedona, the heroine, before she fell to Earth, and incarnated as human. 


~~~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth ~~~  

World weary and worn out, the incarnated angel, Sedona, who believes she is merely human, has three choices after her old van breaks down. 

Let the Nazerazzi squad of the North American Union capture her and force her into a FEMA concentration camp. 

Walk out into the Arizona night desert, let the wildlife have a good meal with the hope her death will be quick. 

Or does she dare trust the mysterious stranger suddenly before her? 

Handsome as sin and all in black, he emerges out of the darkness. 

Sedona wonders if the stranger on a superspeed motorcycle is her savior from the brutal endtimes. 

Or, is he a roving cult member of the New World Order, hunting his next blood sacrifice? 


It’s only a few days before Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012 ~ The end of the Mayan Calendar. 

Sent from heaven to help Sedona save humanity, Zerr Dann knows the Divine is playing its last card on Earth. 

He also knows Sedona is about to find out Christmas miracles still exist. 

[Angelic Fantasy Erotic Romance]  

When a Good Angel Falls
Fantasy Set during Winter Solstice 2012 When the Nazerazzis Rule America 

2012, the end of the Mayan Calendar          

PG excerpt:

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year,” Sedona badly sang, just to dryly entertain herself. “Especially if you’re seasonally depressed and have no vitamin D,” she sarcastically stretched. “Oh by golly, 2012‘s not Christmas holly, oh by golly, the endtimes aren’t jolly. Is our salvation just unholy folly?”

Sedona drove along the old one-lane highway southwest of what used to be Flagstaff, Arizona. Once the catastrophes lined up like the breadlines, it had become a FEMA /military base of operation. She had been fortunate to bypass the checkpoints without being stopped, and hauled off to the closest camp, then forced into some ungodly way of existence. Death was always preferable. And few her age cared anymore. No reason, no reason, at all.

As usual she wondered about the great mystery. Why? Why am I still alive? In these unbelievably ugly times, with evil alive and well everywhere. Is it the grace of Goddess?

It could only be grace. Only some strange miraculous grace that she still lived. The why of it? Sedona possessed no earthly clue.

True, she could summon psychic abilities as naturally as she breathed, in certain crucial instances, especially healing. Whenever the soft glow of ‘knowing’ occurred inside her, she could simply touch a person or an animal, and the healing would instantly take place. Yet, she couldn’t just heal anyone who needed it. And certainly, her abilities didn’t compare to other well-known Psychic/Healers.

Still, she’d never fit in, not anywhere. And talk about choosing the ‘road less traveled’, she could be the iconic poster person on that book cover. Not that real books were available these days, except on the dangerous black market.

Briefly, Sedona shook her head, wanting to get rid of the angst over her survival. In truth, she envied all those who died, their spirits traveling to the other side. Human or animal, it didn’t matter. Sedona envied them. Especially when she saw all the corpses, common now, and literally piled up the world over. She blessed them all to heaven and desperately wished, aching-wished she could join them.

But she never had. Not yet.

Sighing, Sedona watched the impressive light show in the night sky. All around her asteroids arced constantly, some flashing out before they struck. Most of the stars couldn’t be seen, hidden by the ash haze of Mexico’s erupting volcanoes, hellish explosions she’d watched on an illegal TV feed. While hard on her lungs and eyes, the ash made the spy satellites useless, a victory in her book, since it impeded the net tight control of Homeland Security.

The steady rain of asteroids for the last thirty-five days had been strangely beautiful, yet deadly to large land areas on Earth, and sometimes to remaining population centers. Yet, it also prevented the Homeland Hordes from rounding up the desired or eliminating the undesired. Slowly enough not to trigger the watch beams, her old early ‘90s van clumped along. Five years ago Sedona had eliminated every electronic device, and replaced the engine with an antique which had been converted to use water as fuel, although now, clean water was scarce in most places.

No electronics, no herd-control implanted chips, and a lot less chance of being caught, then charged with a crime against the state. Any crime, it didn’t matter anymore. Jaywalking could be considered a crime against the state, even a possible terrorist act.

Recently a man had been convicted as a terrorist for halting the progress of an  enforcement vehicle, and sent away to the most grueling work station, simply because he jaywalked. That was life inside what some now called and accepted as the North American Union.

Sedona didn’t accept it. Had never accepted it. She had neutralized every chip. But she couldn’t fight as a New Rebel either, even though she had trained the last five years to a high fitness level.

Sixty-one years of age, she no longer had the stamina needed for that noble sacrifice. The New Rebels were always on the run, or attacking. Nor did she have the tech expertise, the brilliance to manipulate the big brother chips and the Darth Vader web systems.

Having no family left, and not much of anything left, with her land stolen by the police state since it still produced crops, Sedona helped out wherever she could. And merely existed. Now she drove to a friend’s hidden sanctuary, invited when they’d managed to talk over a shortwave radio.

Sedona grimaced at the irony of driving through Sedona, her namesake. Now deserted, the new age haven had been brutally wiped out by the New World Order’s bio-terrorism. Yep, the message had been cruelly delivered to all those who believed in sacred-creating an enlightened global order.

In 2012 fear reigned. For most everyone.

Seeing no one, she drove in silence. Even having an old radio on, if a signal could be snagged, upped her chances of being caught. “Run silent, run deep,” she quoted, ignoring the eery chill in her gut.

“Fear rules everything. Okay, maybe not for those lucky enough to be at Maya Toga Days,” she mumbled, half-elated, half-repulsed by the idea. “Maybe a big fat miracle or two. The great solar flare of enlightenment courtesy of sun cycle 24.” She took a breath, musing. “I don’t suppose they have Christmas tree lights on the pyramid. Serpent lights, yeah, that’s the ticket. The ticket to paradise. The tree of life. Let’s all jump for joy. It’s a new kind of holly jolly Christmas. The garden of Eden returned, where the feathered serpents are Santas, delivering toys.”

“Oh no.” Despair settled in her stomach like a rock. Her van slowed, clunking offensive loud noises. “It’s a good day to die. Good night to die.”

Her own whisper knifed her insides, as she guided the rolling van toward the crumbling edge of the neglected highway. “Maybe the coyotes will get me first. Rather feed the wildlife,” she muttered.

Excerpt #2 -

Before Sedona could take more than a few steps, the cycle rider appeared, a whispering hum of sound. No lights, the cycle and the rider’s garments blended in with the night. Ten feet in front of her, the rider seemed to wait for her to approach. Obviously, this was no Homeland Nazi. She would have been on the ground, tasered, and probably dead. Certainly twitching in agony.

Tensed to escape, she watched the rider remove his or her helmet. His helmet. He looked young from what she could see. Not a whole helluva lot, since the darkness ruled all.

“Get on,” he invited. “Looks like you need a friendly lift.”

Good Lord, his voice melted her insides. The movie star caliber of Tom Cruise, only better. Or what used to be considered movie star sexy. Not anymore. You might as well have Hitler speaking English in the current horror offering of movies to the mind-numbed public.

“I could be dangerous,” she answered, trying to decide—not like there were many options. Him or Homeland, or run toward land she couldn’t really see worth an effing damn. She took a few steps toward him. If he was going to kill her, maybe it would be quick.

“The Nazerazzi are more dangerous,” he offered, his tone practical. “And on their way. Enough room behind me for you and your bag.”

Sedona sighed loudly, and decisively moved toward him. “Old Spice,” she awe-muttered. “Where did you find that?”

“Dad’s stuff.”

Reaching back, he slid open the compartment, and Sedona stuffed her bag inside. “Goddess!” she warned. The searching lights of Homeland Security Hummers blazed in the distance. Instantly, he closed the compartment, and she swung behind him.

“Tight,” he commanded as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Rebel?” she asked, just before he peeled out, then veered away from the advancing headlight’s phalanx. Sedona squeezed her eyes closed, feeling the wind whip over her. When she opened them, they flew over the land. And off the highway. No wheels beneath them.

Cool as rare cucumbers, she thought. Rich rebel?

Behind them she heard the drone trackers, the slight whistling. If she screamed to him about their presence, that would only make it worse, and make tracking them easier. Suddenly they soared through a narrow rock arch. And she heard the drones smash like giant wasps. Relieved, she sang inside with the temporary victory.

Slowing his cycle, her maybe rescuer executed a ninety degree turn to the left, then they streaked through an immense canyon. Sedona only knew because he beamed his lights, a dim wide-sweeping radiance. Slowing again, he slid them through a small cave entrance. Quickly they cruised a winding irregular path through cave tunnels.

Fear began in the pit of her stomach. But it was too late now. Was she about to be blood sacrificed to one of the New World Order cults? Their underground compounds snaked throughout the continent.

Her blood freezing at the thought, she also knew part of her didn’t care. Goddess help her, she was so tired, and so horribly worn out. The long sleep of death, who would care? Or, waking up on the other side to loved ones seemed more than welcome, just given her probable future. Too bad and so sad, in a bizarre way. From what she could feel clinging to him, the young man would be as movie star sexy as his voice.

Mmm-mmm, he did feel hunk-delicious.

Sacrificed by an evil could-be movie star, to the rise of the New World Order. There was something hideously ironic about that. But she couldn’t think clearly or cleverly what. Just too bad this wasn’t one of her fantasies. Where he starred as the good guy who wanted her body, wanted her real damn bad. Like Rhett carrying Scarlett up the stairs, bad. Wanted her body as it had once been, and hotly, passionately ravished her. Yeah, too bad.

Everything was too bad. The whole world was too bad, now. She tried to forget about her life, what had been. She tried to forget everyone, everything she’d lost. God, when she remembered, the horror of it all ripped through her, unbearable excruciating pain. Sedona wondered if the blood sacrifice would be as painful.

Most days she wondered how she even stood up, and kept going. Maybe her life, everything she’d endured, would be worth it, if she could save the world. Maybe worth it. Sedona had her doubts. Still, how often had she wished she could save the world, and truly help people? The number of stars in the sky? Oh, how she’d tried her best and with her whole heart. Now, she was just too darn old.

They stopped inside a small empty cavern. Warm, it was luminous enough to see. The cycle settled perfectly, and remained upright.

“We’ll walk the rest of way. Are you okay?” He removed his helmet and turned back to her when she released his waist.

“What are you going to do with me?” She leaned back, stared at his features, handsome and adorable. Almost magical.

“Protect you, angelic one.”

Sedona blinked, his voice inflection utterly unfamiliar to her, not to mention the kindness of his tone. Swinging her leg over, she slid off the cycle. “You don’t want me for some sort of sick blood sacrifice?”

“I am not your enemy, Sedona.” He gleamed a brief smile, then easily dismounted. Opening the compartment, he took out her bag.

She stepped back, and kept staring. “How do you know my name. Or the name I now use?”

“I am on assignment. My sacred duty is to protect you.”

He lifted her bag beneath one arm, then faced her. Reaching out, he removed her hood, his touch extreme gentleness.

“Why?” she stammered, as much from his touch, as by his extraordinarily beautiful eyes. Purple midnight, silvered. He wasn’t merely Earth human. Whoever, whatever he was?

“The future of Earth depends upon it.”


NOTE: This will be unusual, given the nature of my characters, and the endtimes. Sedona is sixty-one years of age, and Volcano is what is called a carnal cherub meaning his kind has been designed to divinely operate in the three-dimensional realm. 

Sexcerpt ~

Excerpt #3: When a Good Angel Falls

Set-up: Sedona, my heroine, hasn't been with a man for a long time, and is very sensitive about her age and looks. But even she can't resist a carnal cherub. And she can’t resist being erotically playful in a way she’s never done before.

Stunned, she could only enjoy his hands blatantly rubbing her breasts over the pink robe. 

“Wiggle for me,” he naughty, naughty whispered.

“You’ll only want to use it,” she breathy whispered, wiggling. Wiggling on his growing cherub staff. It seemed like the right thing to do, even if she knew it wasn’t.

“I’ll make it fun,” he naughtier whispered. His fingers snatched at her nipples, and plucked.

“Turn me on.” She’d meant to remind him of her age. Instead, the ‘70s sexual mantra expressed what she felt. Goddess! Was she ever ‘turned on’. 

“Light my fire stick,” he very naughty encouraged.

She wiggled like she imagined a hoyden of ye olden days would. “Such a brutish thing, you bad boy.” She reached back, sliding her fingers into his hair, ravenous for the sensual feel of him.

Volcano opened her robe, and stroked his hands over her breasts. He pinched her rigid nipples rhythmically. The feel of her sumptuous breasts, her sumptuous bottom rubbing on him stoked him to lusty heat. Ferocious cosmic heat.

“It will be fun. I promise,” he lordly persuaded. He rocked his hips beneath her, against the hedonistic rubbing of her bottom. “My staff in your sweet flaming rose.”

“How are you going to make putting that big brute in me fun?” She wiggled more vigorously. “Mmm, I’m feeling wonderfully indecent.”

“You’ve never acted this way before, have you?” he lordly growled in her ear. His nails bit into her nipples, demanding an answer.

“No. No, you make me all torrid and wicked inside.” Boldly wiggling on his cock, her hand caressed wildly through his hair.

“Woman!” Volcano grabbed her haunches, and squeezed. Then he slid his hands on her thighs over the robe. Possessively he stroked while he roughly nibbled her neck. “I am going to shove your robe up over your delectable rump, woman. Bare your privates, tickle your curls with my brazen brute, first.” He growled his claim against the sensitive cord of her neck.

“Oooh,” she crooned, grinding her hips on him. “Let me feel. Let me feel the tip of that big brute. You aren’t going to shove it in me now, are you? It feels way too enormous.”

“Tickling, woman.” Volcano finger-summoned one of the ottomans before them, desperate for her wet curls against his cock’s head. The smell of her rose musk desire tightened his loins to rutting need. “Tickling first, then I am going to shove it in, only in the most fun and pleasurable way.”

“No, no, please. It’s way too big,” she squealed, not resisting when he placed her before him on the ottoman. “No, please, only tickling,” she begged, not resisting as he caressed her robe up, and bared her beautiful privates framed by flaming red curls.

“My red rose beauty.” He stroked her with his voice, then bared his light-throbbing privates. Gently he brushed her curls with his cock’s head. Up and down. Up and down, his brute storm-burning for her. “Tell me how I make you feel, woman,” he lordly commanded, then tightened his grip on her full hips.

“Oh, ooooh, impossibly wanton. Yes, more,” she crooned to him as his cock stroked up and down, more firmly pressed against her curls. “Oh, I feel so hot and wet. Yes, please, please, more.”

“You want more, woman? My brute wants more of you.” He shoved against her rose-voluptuous lips, his cock in delicious torment.

“More, yes. Just a little more tickling. Just a little deeper, oh, yes, yes, tickle my petals. Ooooh, your tip feels so good, so big on my petals, so slippery and huge. Ooooh, yes, better and better. What a talented brute you have.”

Merciful Eros! She was driving him tornadic, whirling delirious for her. Volcano rubbed his cock’s head on her rosebud, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

“Yes,” she whimpered. Thrusting her bottom more to him, she displayed her rose swollen privates even more. “Oooh, tickle my naughty bud. Tickle and tickle.” She moaned, coursing fire through his blood.

“Here, woman?” He thrust his cock close to her sheath’s welcome.

“Please…let that enormous brute touch my naughty little opening. Oh, yes, yes! Oooh, what very lovely tickling. Yes, shove it in, just a little, please, please, oooh, how big your tip feels. I want it. I want your brute. Just a little, shove it, goddess, yes!”

Volcano thrust his cock inside his angel woman, inside her naughty little rosefire opening. His loins had never twisted this storm harshly before. He groaned. He’d never felt so physical. His brute pulsed, then glowed torturously hot for her. “Tell me, woman.”

“Oh, yes, yes, blazing pleasure, tingles of pleasure all through me. Oooh yes, yes, your tip is so bold. Too bold.” She squealed passionately as he pumped his cock a bit deeper. “Oh, such gentle thrusting, yes, yes. And tickling, more tickling, yes. Oh, I want your brute tickling me more.” As he shoved his cock deeper inside her silky rose, she cried out with bliss. “More. I want more of your enormous brute. Deeper, just a little deeper. Pummel me. Please, pummel.”

Volcano shoved deeper, then thrust harder into his woman. He groaned, primal and fierce as a cosmic tempest for her. Vigorously, he stroked his cock inside her sheath, inside her flaming silk.

“Yes. Use that big brute on me.” His Sedona could not move as he pummeled her. “I feel so heavenly fierce, yes.” She could only let him have his way with her. For a long time.

“Deeper,” she whisper-begged. “Your brute, force it in deeper, please.”

Volcano storm-burned, his brute red-hot radiant as he lunged deeply into her. She squeezed his cock unmercifully, a silken glove and an infinite rapture. His woman whimpered keenly as he drove his cock inside her. Then she opened herself, letting him have her as only a woman allows a man, a man she wants.

A man she carnal desires and wants with her heart.


Sedona & Volcano invite you to read their love story ~
WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth...Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes?  ~ available from Siren-BookStrand  ~ http://bookstrand.com/when-a-good-angel-falls ~ http://bookstrand.com/savanna-kougar ~ Ebook & Print 

~~~ EBOOK & IN PRINT ~~~ a former #1 on Siren-BookStrand’s bestseller list 


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