Let Me Fly by A.C. Pontone (Wild Wings, #1) - Adult, Paranormal, Reverse Harem, Romance
Let Me Fly
by A.C. Pontone
(Wild Wings, #1)
Publication date: September 9th 2021
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Reverse Harem, Romance
My name is Isabelle Dark, and my life sucks. In exactly ten days, four hours, fifty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds, I will cease to exist.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but what would you say if you were being forced to marry a man you despise?
Exactly. I have to find a way to escape.
Up to now I’ve spent my life in hiding. There aren’t any other options for those like me: I’m a Nephilim, a half-breed. The only choice I have is whether to be killed by the Shadows or to remain here, hidden among the Hollows.
So I made my decision: I would rather risk my life fighting to be free than continue to struggle to survive in the home I grew up in.
My plan was to go to college and live a normal life, but somehow I ended up in a school for Shadows where everyone hates me. Plus, I’ve been assigned seven angels as my bodyguards. Jailers would be a more appropriate word.
The tension growing between us is impossible to deny. Sparks are starting to fly. They’re beginning to get under my skin and . . .
What do I do now?
My name is Isabelle Dark. I’m a Nephilim and I’m screwed.
Warning: This book is a full-length reverse-harem romance. It contains adult themes, MM scenes, foul language and some violence. If, however, you’re in the market for a novel full of sexy angels and a hot-blooded main character, you’ve found your next read.
Let Me Fly is the first book in the Wild Wings series and cannot be read as a standalone.
Intended for 18+ readers.
EXCERPT:My name is Isabelle Dark and my life sucks. In exactly ten days, four hours, fifty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds, I will cease to exist.
Why do I say this? Well, all you need to know is that I’ve been forced to live in the shadows. I have to struggle to survive in my own home. There’s no other choice for someone like me. I’m a half-breed, which means that my only alternatives are to be killed by the Shadows or stay hidden here, among the Hollows. As I said, it sucks!
I shake my head as a hysterical laugh forces its way out of my throat. I can tell the woman behind me is frowning, her mouth tightly closed, her lips pressed together. “Stay still,” she orders me. “Hold your breath and suck your belly in!”
My jaw goes rigid, but I remain silent.
“Don’t make that face!” she mutters. “You need to eat less. You’re not thin enough!”
Fuck you, I think, as my hands ball into fists and I try to keep myself from punching her in the face. I hate her. I hate everything about her. I hate her pointy nose, her high cheekbones, her oval face, her gray eyes that have no spark of light in them, her brown hair that’s always pulled back in a perfect chignon. I hate her long skirt and dumb white shirt buttoned up so tightly under er chin. I don’t understand how she doesn’t choke. Why can’t she choke?
With a sigh I regard the image in the mirror again. Who are you? I struggle to hold back the tears. I don’t want to cry, not while the woman is looking at me.
She yanks the laces of my dress even tighter, so tight I can barely breathe. Who are you? I ask my reflection again. The person in the mirror is a stranger. She’s not wearing my usual outfit of ripped jeans and a man’s T-shirt. Her blond hair frames her face, falling in soft waves on the lace bodice of the dress, which is peekaboo, with visible stays. It extends to her hips, emphasizing her narrow waist. The full, soft skirt falls to her feet. The pure white of the dress blends in with the white skin of the girl in the mirror.
I heave a sigh, and the sad blue eyes in the glass regard me. They’re alien to me, but somehow terribly familiar at the same time.
Who are you?
“Edward certainly won’t want a fat wife!” The bitch tightens the ribbons of the bodice even more. I’m suffocating.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, this time audibly. I want her to hear. She ignores me as she continues to fit me with my wedding dress. There are now only ten days, four hours, fifty minutes, and thirty seconds remaining until I say I do.
But it’s not going to happen. Less than three hours from now I’m going to escape. I have to, if I want to survive—or at least die free. What will become of me when I leave this damned prison, though? What will become of you? I silently ask the girl reflected in the mirror.
Camilla's secret desire was always to be a writer, but she never had the courage to pursue her dream until her life experiences led her to seek a way out of reality. Now, her dream is to continue to create great stories that her readers will love.
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