Welcome back to the world of Angel Blue! I’m so sorry I’ve been on a wee hiatus lately. I meant to warn everyone, but life took first place. Meanwhile, I’ve been super busy with my editors & critique partner (hey Mel!), getting Angel Blue up to snuff. Originally we were going to have five episodes in this series, but now I’m rethinking the structure. I’ll poll on my social media soon to see what y’all think, since I’m writing this for you anyway 😉 Meanwhile, enjoy more of Angel Blue!
Angel Blue Teaser
Present Day
Isabol
Snow falls heavily over the black highway, making her drive more treacherous. The great trees line either side of the road like looming giants. And yet the constant threat of death is what thrills her. The bike hums between her legs, growling as she races it along the slick road. The ice stings her bare chin, but she barely feels the pain or the cold.
She hadn’t felt much of anything, since the night Wilhelm sent her away.
“…if I am right, if she is the key, we just found a way to win this war,” he had said.
Isabol remembers the chosen princess from the city and alley, where the mad female singed her skin with blue flame. Only the strongest chosen possess gifts. But Isabol hasn’t ever heard of one using fire against their enemy. Even stranger is her brother’s reaction to the princess.
The fool is half in love with her.
The road winds and curves for miles and miles. The most sensible action she’s taken since leaving on Wil’s errand was stealing this Indian from a human nightclub.
The sun is rising over the horizon ahead. She feels relief as the light brushes her face. Her gloved hands flex on the handlebar as she slows and cuts onto a narrow road, off the main highway.
Keep it together, Iz.
She’s been trying to psych herself into this, ever since Wil told her she was going home alone.
But you were always their golden pup. Not me. I’m the one they couldn’t get rid of fast enough.
Another turn down a drive masked by trees. Isabol turns onto the easement. The woods begin to thin and then part for open fields. Her nostrils flare as she catches the scent of lamb, cattle and other animals her clan raises. Isabol grins, ignoring the urge to hunt. She drives her bike further up the drive, past several rustic, two-story cabins, and to a series of red-painted stables. The stables dwarf the other houses. She brings the motorcycle to a halt, just within the hollow between the two conjoined buildings. The sweet smell of hay and animal flesh greets her on one side, fresh leather and vehicles on the other.
The stables are dark, and Isabol leads her bike into a small, empty stall. She kicks out the guard, then places the helmet on top. She’s busy locking the stall door when a new scent invades her senses. The air is too still, the presence of something hovering.
Always hovering, she thinks with a smirk.
Isabol turns and begins to walk casually back through the opening. The sun’s early light is peppered with fresh snow drifts. Her warm breath puffs out in thick streams. She tosses her hair and stretches tall, then begins to count backward in her head.
Three, two…
A deep growl from above. Isabol ducks and twists, just as her attacker drops to the earth with a thud.
The attacker grunts as she springs on top of him. Her hands and legs lock over his, bracing him against the earth. Both exchange wild-eyed grins.
“I thought you were never coming back,” Mikal says. He hasn’t changed a bit. Pale hair and skin beneath his flannel shirt, thick muscles and crystal-blue eyes.
I thought he was one of the old Norse gods come to life, when I found him wandering the woods.
Isabol struggles to keep her smile bright. “I say a lot of crap when I’m mad, you know that.”
Mikal’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Good to have you back, Nephthys.”
She shoves him hard into the earth for that. Mikal is the only one who calls her Nephthys so casually. She ruffles a leather-gloved hand through his short-cropped blonde hair, then offers him a hand up.
His smile shows his teeth as he accepts her hand. He doesn’t let go immediately. “Things have changed since Wilhelm went after you.”
Isabol lifts her chin and cocks her hip. “I’ve changed too. Wil sent me to give a message to Grams. Besides, what’s the worst they could do to me?”
But this is the very thing that’s had her invisible hackles up, ever since she came within fifty miles of the ranch. She can’t let Mikal see her fear, can’t let him smell it on her either.
He squeezes her hand, reminding her of just how much bigger he is. There is resignation and sorrow tugging at the corners of his eyes, a half-hearted smile faltering at his lips. “Maybe they’ll go easy on you, because of who you are, Nephthys.”
Isabol takes him by surprise with a swipe of her leg beneath his and a well-timed punch to his sternum.
He falls to the barn floor with a groan and husky laughter.
“Nice to see you again, stupid,” she calls over her shoulder. Mikal’s rare laughter gives her the courage to face the rest of the pack she once betrayed.
to be continued…
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Her House is gone, making her the last of a powerful, ancient line.
Her Guardian is determined to make her into a queen, sacrificing his happiness.
Her quest for the truth of what happened the night they burnt her home and people to ash will tear their world apart.
AUGUST 2018
Jennifer Silverwood 