Today we have the blog tour for Angel Fire by Marie Johnston! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy now!
Angel Fire
Marie Johnston
Genre: Paranormal Romance
He doesn’t have to like his new mate, even if she is the only angel to accept him.
Bryant should’ve behaved himself. Now he’s been ordered to find a mate. Easier said than done when a bloke like him looks the way he does in a realm full of angels. He’d rather be fighting the good fight in the human realm. But mating the ravishing female that claims him shouldn’t be a hardship. If only her father wasn’t the reason for his scars.
Perhaps mating the surly, scowling warrior wasn’t Odessa’s best idea. But she’s committed, and he’s…frustrating. Enticing. Carrying a grudge she knows nothing about. Yet, when her boss winds up dead and she’s attacked, he’s there to save her.
Digging into the danger Odessa’s facing uncovers an ambitious plot against the realm. Good thing Bryant’s a persistent guy. He’ll stick to Odessa’s side and keep her safe, all so he can let her go in the end. Because one thing he’s learned about the down to earth angel is that she deserves better than him.
Except Odessa doesn’t want to be rid of the loyal warrior. But that’s an argument for a day when someone’s not trying to kill them.
Amazon | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | Google Play
She
was mortified over the description. Her kind was immortal, but if the injury
was great enough, they could die. Especially in the human realm and if the
female refused to mate. But then Bryant’s last statement sunk in. Her jaw
dropped open with indignation. “I did not throw
myself at you. I’m not your prior sync mate so don’t hold me accountable for
her actions. And it doesn’t sound like she dove, but was too stunned to move.”
The statement caught him off guard. He’d expected her pity, had dreaded it.
She recovered her serenity. “As for my reasons, I have my own, as I’m sure you do.”
“I had one reason. It was either endure that public humiliation or remain off duty until I synced.” You’re getting too impulsive, Bryant. Director Richter’s words spiked his blood pressure. Irresponsible. Find a mate to settle you down. “I live for my work. So here I am, and I have to work bloody early in the morning. Where’s the sofa?”
Confusion furrowed her brow and the fight in her eyes died. He hated to see it go. She was radiant in her indignity.
“Are you…? Aren’t we going to…?”
He caught the intention of her question. His normally quiet libido roared to life, but he stomped it back down by mentally repeating her father’s name.
Did she know what her father had done to him? Would she care?
“No, Odessa, we aren’t. Not until you tell me why I’m here. Until then, I’m not your toy.”
“Toy?” Her offended tone matched her expression. “I assure you, Bryant Vale, I’m not the type to bring home toys. I desired a strong sync mate.”
His name on her lips excited a part of his anatomy that should best ignore how unearthly gorgeous she was. Instead, he barked out a laugh. “I see. You didn’t have faith your destined mate would have a decent pair of bollocks. No doubt he would’ve been some winged hothead that built his life breaking other’s backs instead of his own.” Like your father.
Odessa peered at him a long moment before she spoke, her brow furrowed like she was working out math in her head. “What do you have against me?”
“That fact that you don’t know just shows how young and naïve you are.” Bryant stalked away to search for the sofa. “I’m going to sleep. Tell your servants to leave me the hell alone.”
“I have no servants.”
The soft words sounded forlorn. Maybe she was still getting settled or something. It didn’t look like anyone lived in this place. Pristine columns rose to connect with an elegant arched ceiling. A curved staircase appeared to be more decoration than useful with its cold and uninviting marble. The whole mansion lacked hominess. It had more of an atmosphere of being suspended in museum-quality preservation.
He discovered a sofa that sported minimal padding. Tucking his wings against his body, he flopped down on it. His dressing gown would keep him warm enough for a few hours of sleep and then he’d be back out in the field.
The statement caught him off guard. He’d expected her pity, had dreaded it.
She recovered her serenity. “As for my reasons, I have my own, as I’m sure you do.”
“I had one reason. It was either endure that public humiliation or remain off duty until I synced.” You’re getting too impulsive, Bryant. Director Richter’s words spiked his blood pressure. Irresponsible. Find a mate to settle you down. “I live for my work. So here I am, and I have to work bloody early in the morning. Where’s the sofa?”
Confusion furrowed her brow and the fight in her eyes died. He hated to see it go. She was radiant in her indignity.
“Are you…? Aren’t we going to…?”
He caught the intention of her question. His normally quiet libido roared to life, but he stomped it back down by mentally repeating her father’s name.
Did she know what her father had done to him? Would she care?
“No, Odessa, we aren’t. Not until you tell me why I’m here. Until then, I’m not your toy.”
“Toy?” Her offended tone matched her expression. “I assure you, Bryant Vale, I’m not the type to bring home toys. I desired a strong sync mate.”
His name on her lips excited a part of his anatomy that should best ignore how unearthly gorgeous she was. Instead, he barked out a laugh. “I see. You didn’t have faith your destined mate would have a decent pair of bollocks. No doubt he would’ve been some winged hothead that built his life breaking other’s backs instead of his own.” Like your father.
Odessa peered at him a long moment before she spoke, her brow furrowed like she was working out math in her head. “What do you have against me?”
“That fact that you don’t know just shows how young and naïve you are.” Bryant stalked away to search for the sofa. “I’m going to sleep. Tell your servants to leave me the hell alone.”
“I have no servants.”
The soft words sounded forlorn. Maybe she was still getting settled or something. It didn’t look like anyone lived in this place. Pristine columns rose to connect with an elegant arched ceiling. A curved staircase appeared to be more decoration than useful with its cold and uninviting marble. The whole mansion lacked hominess. It had more of an atmosphere of being suspended in museum-quality preservation.
He discovered a sofa that sported minimal padding. Tucking his wings against his body, he flopped down on it. His dressing gown would keep him warm enough for a few hours of sleep and then he’d be back out in the field.
Marie Johnston is an award-winning writer of paranormal and contemporary romance, and a RITA® Finalist. Marie decided to pursue her passion for writing and traded in her lab coat for a laptop to write her first book ever, Fever Claim. She lives in the upper Midwest with her husband, four kids, and two kittens. Other than hanging out with her family, Marie enjoys reading, movie dates with her hubby, getting outside on sunny days, and the all too rare - girls' night out.
Thanks so much for sharing a book description and giveaway also. Sounds great!
ReplyDelete