Can a chance meeting rekindle their incendiary attraction? While cutting through the Interstices—the post-creation gap between realms—Smith, half-demon tech specialist for Enchanted Occasions Event Planning, spies the person he yearns for daily but dreads ever seeing again: the ifrit, Hashim of the Windrider clan. On their one literally smoldering night together, Smith, stupidly besotted, revealed his true name—a demon’s greatest vulnerability. When Hashim didn’t return the favor, then split the next morning with no word? Message received, loud and clear: Thanks but no thanks. Although Hashim had burned to return Smith’s trust, it was impossible. The wizard who conjured him holds his true name in secret, and unless Hashim discovers it, he’ll never be free. When their attraction sparks once more, the two unite to search for Hashim’s hidden name—which would be a hell of a lot easier if they didn’t have to contend with a convention full of food-crazed vampires on the one day out of the century they can consume something other than blood. But if they fail, Hashim will be doomed to eternal slavery, and their reignited love will collapse in the ashes. Luckily Smith is the guy who gets the job done—and Hashim is never afraid to heat things up. Devouring Flame is a 54,000-word enemies-to-lovers, second-chance paranormal rom-com featuring a down-at-heels carnival with sinister undertones, a minotaur with an affinity for flowers, a prima donna goblin berserker chef with serious knife skills, and a guaranteed HEA.

The advent of space travel with a prototype spaceship using atomic propulsion ignites the Earth's upper atmosphere, causing hot invisible gases to sweep down and make contact with the Earth's surface. Every area touched becomes incandescent. A young scientist who foresees the catastrophe struggles to warn the authorities to take precautions to survive the coming catastrophe...

In the ancient Near East, the distinction between the divine realm and the material world was not always clear. In Mesopotamia, statues, kings, and even cultic utensils could become "gods" in their own right. Certain biblical traditions show this idea as well. Yhwh appears as a human during visitations to Abraham and Jacob (Gen 18:1-2 and 32:25-31). Yhwh also can act through objects (Gen 15:17; 1 Sam 5:1-5). This suggests that, in Israel as in Mesopotamia, a distinction between humans and gods was one of status more than ontology. Throughout the ancient Near East, religious literature included motifs that emphasized divine status, such as power, size, wonder-working ability, and the possession of numinous qualities. In Israel, these divine "status symbols" were frequently storm motifs like cloud, precipitation, and fire. Fire was one of the most common, perhaps because, being vivid and powerful, it shared Yhwh's life-giving, transformative, yet dangerous qualities. In certain narratives, fiery motifs accompany an embodied divine presence. At other times, fiery phenomena are the sole perceptible indications of divine presence. As a motif of divinity, fire can symbolize divine agency even functioning at a distance from Yhwh or shared with a secondary agent like an angel, tool, or weapon. Israel's extensive use of fire in the cult gives witness to similar traditions. Divine fire accompanies each new cultic inauguration in the Hebrew Bible. A tradition in Leviticus suggests that this fire remained continuously burning and served as a "gate" that allowed God to received portions of the cultic offering. In the Hebrew Bible, fire was thus a "status symbol" of divinity, drawn from traditional storm motifs and ancient conventions of divine embodiment. In its vivid ethereal appearance and power to give, transform, and take life, it symbolized the presence and agency of Yhwh, the God of Israel.