I, ANGEL is the first book in the ANGELS IN L.A. series by USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author, JC Andrijeski. It’s a gritty angel urban fantasy, ideal for fans of K.F. Breene, Shayne Silvers, Patricia Briggs, C.N. Crawford, Linsey Hall
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While it might seem like I have a (perhaps overly?) friendly relationship with my dark side, if you read my stuff, you’ll discover pretty quick that, at base and in my heart, I’m a big, sappy, pie in the sky idealist, and that I always want the light to win, love to win, the good guys to win, compassion to win, the bad guys to be redeemed or at least to find love…even if they have to crawl through mud and blood and crazy sex and betrayal and broken fingernails to get there.
Of course, not all of them make it…but I always hope that they will.
Other stuff: I have a background in journalism and political history, and a Master's degree in the latter. I love to travel and to interact with different cultures and histories and I’ve traveled a fair bit (although never enough - there are always new places!). I’ve also lived a lot of different places, including all over the United States where I was born, as well as stints in Europe, Australia and now Asia, including a few years in India and now a few in Thailand.
Currently, I live and work full-time as a writer in Bangkok, Thailand, where I have a beautiful view of a Buddhist wat right out the window while I write.
Carnival Row meets My Fair Lady with a steamy sensibility. Welcome to the first Regency Monster Romance, in which the Lords of the Hidden Realm have a place in Society but never in the hearts of London’s fine human ladies.
Scratching by as a flower girl, Iris Gabbert speaks first and asks questions later. All the better to survive the rough and tumble East End streets. So if an odd-looking bloke knocks over a basket brimming with a girl’s means of making a living, what else is she to do but give him a tongue lashing he won’t soon forget? Even if it was an accident. Even if his lordship dresses like a right dandy. Even if he is more alluring than any gent who has passed her way before.
Broad of shoulder and abrupt in manner, the infamous Lord Barrington presents a proposition that promises all the honey with none of the bee’s busy work. And no one ever accused Iris Gabbert of passing on an opportunity. Especially not if it brings her one step closer to her dream of buying a shop. For the small price of improving her manners and donning gorgeous gowns, no less.
Duncan Higgins, Second Duke of Barrington, prides himself on his astute observations of human behavior. All the better to mask the pain of never truly belonging in their sphere. Rejected by the woman he’d hoped to woo, Duncan has withdrawn from Society to focus on his anthropological magnum opus: The Curious Customs of the Human Ton. But when his mischievous younger brother Albion presents him with a dare, Duncan quickly embraces the challenge.
To win the wager, Duncan must transform a humble flower girl into a lady “worthy” of acceptance in Society. His work is cut out for him. The girl he intends to slip into their ranks is uncouth. She refuses to soften her voice. Her favorite bonnet sits crooked on her head, and the rest of her wardrobe is appalling. Yet when Iris Gabbert emerges from her first bath at his elegant Mayfair townhouse, the power of Duncan’s desire ignites.
With sufficient income from his family’s mines to indulge her every whim, Duncan draws Iris into his private and luxurious world. Duncan intends to fulfill her every desire. Every last one. But as a newly refined Iris makes her debut, she catches the eye of the Season’s most eligible human bachelor, triggering Duncan’s deepest fears of rejection. Faced with jealousies, misunderstandings, and a treacherous social landscape, can true love—and lust—prevail?
Duncan Higgins, the Second Duke of Barrington, tucked his muslin cravat tighter underneath his Parisian greatcoat. The evening performance of How You Like It had been crowded with patrons eager to see the new gas lighting at the Theatre-Royal. It was difficult to tolerate the stares his massive form and green-tinged skin attracted, but he could ensure his attire reflected the latest demands of the season.
Better to be respected, or even feared, than to find himself an object of scorn.
His father had stepped foot in London eighteen years prior, the first orc to do so. But Duncan’s height, the horns curling back on his head, and his unusual coloring—unusual on the streets of this city, at least—still drew stares. As in all things connected to the frivolous ton, no one stated anything outright. Rather, he was subject to the averted glances of children seeing one of his kind for the first time. Or the pursed lips of a mother with a daughter of marriageable age looking to catch a gentleman’s eye. A gentleman of wealth, manners, and title.
A human gentleman. They were not eager for their daughters to marry Duncan Higgins, even if he were five and twenty and met their other requirements. He’d learned that lesson well enough.
So be it. Duncan would remain at a distance, observing and taking notes on human society as a scientist would a colony of lemurs or some such.
His younger brother, Albion, would have deemed that too harsh. Albion and their mother came to London from the Hidden Realm two years after Duncan accompanied Father here. He didn’t understand what it had been like for Duncan in those early days. When grown women had screamed at the sight of orcs, no matter how fine their English clothes, and boys hurled rocks at their backs.
As he stepped out to the street this evening, an assortment of dandies packed the space outside the venerable theater, waiting on the carriages that would propel them to the next stop on their nightly rounds about the city. Despite the chill in the air, they left their greatcoats open, the better to showcase ruffled shirts, cravats folded crisply on the cross, and fitted trousers.
Albion often laughed at Duncan’s propensity for tracking human fashion, whilst Duncan argued that all manner of human customs were of interest. The apparel chosen for a particular season spoke to the values and aspirations of the ton. When living as an outsider, one could never know too much about a culture.
And Duncan was an outsider who literally stood out in a crowd. He ducked under the arches outside the theater’s foyer, side-stepping a matron with two daughters prancing before her. The ladies wore stunning multi-colored sapphires—pink, orange, amber, in every shade and gradient—sparkling on pendants hanging from the short pearl necklaces that were all the rage this season.
The rare gemstones originated in his land and were the source of his family’s wealth. Nevertheless, when the mother caught him glancing at her daughters’ jewels, she called them closer to her. Their finery was for the benefit of the human dandies. Not Duncan Higgins. Even if he could have made either of them a duchess.
At one time, such a snub would have caused Duncan great shame. Now, however, these women meant no more to him than the portraits he might examine at a public exhibition in one of the city’s galleries. He tipped his bespoke hat in their direction and continued, wanting only to locate a hackney coach so he might return to his townhouse in a timely manner.
Despite the indulgence of taking in a performance this evening, he wished to abide by his customary schedule, drafting three pages over a glass of port prior to retiring for the night. Duncan aspired to publish a book in the Hidden Realm so the orcs who came to London in the future were better prepared than he had been.
Considering additional comments for his section on the shenanigans of human mothers, Duncan neglected to mind his feet. Distracted, he stumbled over one of the humans milling in front of the theater, tipping a woven basket filled with flowers over in the process. The blossoms hit the sodden ground in a colorful spray of wilting clumps—pansies, snowdrops, and clematis. He nearly tumbled down beside them.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, reaching for his handkerchief, twice the size of those used by other gentlemen, to wipe away the mud that had spattered his new coat. And just as the French styles were once again making their way across the Channel. Thanks to that scoundrel Napoleon Bonaparte, London had been deprived of Parisian fashions for several years.
“Hey there, ‘ya big lug!” a female voice called, rising above the din of the humans still bustling out of the theater. “Watch where you’re putting them huge green feet of yours, kitten.”
Duncan had been called many names in his life, but “kitten” had never before counted among their number. It took him a moment to realize the young woman was addressing him.
She clicked her tongue between her teeth as she attempted to reclaim the flowers. “A girl’s tryin’ to make a living here, you know.”
Her voice held the distinctive tinge of the East End, an accent he sometimes heard from shopkeepers. This woman’s outlandish appearance matched the Cockney drawl. Her walking dress and pelisse, both of which might have been a startling bronze hue when in fashion five years ago, clung to her slender figure in an indecent manner. A flamboyant blue-purple iris, its petals shaped like the fleur-de-lis of the old French royal family, with a jagged shot of golden color in the center, topped her bonnet.
To make matters even more ridiculous, he found himself staring at this woman, whose delicate form and features were at odds with the boldest feminine voice he’d had the pleasure of hearing since he left the Hidden Realm. In Duncan’s homeland, women were not given to the performative modesty of the ton. What was that phrase he’d heard a human gentleman use to describe a beguiling young lady who had only recently arrived in London from the country? A diamond in the rough. At the time, the expression had confused him, but now he thought he understood what it meant.
A DARK CURSE
Miss Arabella Howland is content to forgo the London marriage mill to assist her father in his research, especially when it comes to his intriguing patient, Louis Radman. But it’s not long before Bella’s curiosity alerts her to the danger of her father’s work . . . and to the fact that Louis is not who or what he seems.
A BRIGHT PROMISE
After centuries struggling with his vile existence, Louis Radman will soon be free of his affliction, thanks to his very capable physician. Unfortunately, his heart is less secure around the man’s tempting daughter. His yearning to walk in the light once more is complicated by his desire for the delightful Bella, who is as intelligent as she is fearless. But if history has taught him anything, it’s not to tempt fate.
AN UNFORGIVING PAST
Still, happiness has a price and Louis is soon reminded that mortality comes with unfortunate limitations. To protect his new bride, he must face the demons from his past who wish to pull him back into their vampiric fold.
Yet, if he’s forced to return to his midnight world, will he lose his beloved Bella forever?
A Wall Street Journal bestseller and Top 3 book in the entire Amazon Kindle store!
The decision has been made. Jessie has taken the magic, and all the weird that goes with it. Including wings.
There's only one problem - she can't figure out how to access them.
Through a series of terrible decisions, Jessie realizes she must ask for help. Gargoyle help.
But she could've never predicted who answers her call - he's an excellent flier, incredibly patient, and a good trainer. He's also incredibly handsome. And interested.
Maybe flying isn't the only thing she needs help with. Maybe she needs help getting back on that saddle, too, emerging into the dating pool.
Except, the new gargoyle is also an alpha, just like Austin, and the town isn't big enough for two.
Turns out, flying is the least of her problems.
"Janet Ivanovich meets vampires. Quirky, funny and a darned good read!"
If you like Patricia Briggs, Faith Hunter, Laurell K. Hamilton, Shannon Mayer, Kim Harrison, Ilona Andrews, Dannika Dark, and Jennifer Estep you'll feel right at home with this fun and exciting thrill ride.
by K.F. Breene
Free on kindleunlimited
About K.F. Breene
K.F. Breene is a Wall Street Journal, USA Today, Washington Post, and Amazon Charts bestselling author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and fantasy novels. With over two million books sold, when she’s not penning stories about magic and what goes bump in the night, she’s sipping wine and planning shenanigans. She lives in Northern California with her husband, two children and out of work treadmill.
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No! No freaking way.
But before I can figure out a way off this spaceship, I find myself caught in the middle of an uprising by their other captives: a breathtakingly masculine gladiator race called Kalixians.
With their bronze skin, horns, and rippling muscles, the Kalixians look like gods.
Their leader, Tordax, is the most stunning of all. His touch sets off fireworks in my body, and I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t understand—especially considering we don’t even speak the same language.
But am I really safer now, or have I just traded one captor for another?
What does this powerful alien want with me?
And why does he keep looking at me like I’m his?