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Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Falcon's Angel by Danita Minnis



Sleeping with the Enemy? Sometimes Love is the Best Revenge...

A thief and an assassin. Lust at first sight.

Sounds ideal until all the lies between Falcon and Angel bring them dangerously close to the end of their lives.

In my paranormal romance debut Falcon’s Angel, time is running out on a fatal reunion with ancient enemies seeking revenge for a past only they can remember - and a priceless Stradivarius.

In this first novel of the Cardiff Family series, I explore the soul-mate theory and how love can last several lifetimes.

A fantasy? Maybe. Haven’t you ever met someone so familiar, someone you just clicked with, whether they are a new friend or lover?

Falcon and Angel have a history with each other but don't realize it. They met and fell in love two hundred years ago in the not-so-gentle time of King Louis IVX. Not only do they have to deal with that volatile time in history, they must remember it to stay alive when part of that history comes after them in modern-day Naples. il Dragone, a devil-worshiping cult which has been after them for centuries watches and waits to finish what they started.

If Falcon and Angel can love and trust each other this time around, with their combined memories they have an opportunity to put a stop to the cycle of murder and mayhem. The rest of the Cardiff family - a mom with special powers, a dad who comes from an ancient Roman line of vampire hunters and an uncle who is contemplating immortality for love - are counting on Falcon and Angel to get this right.

I am editing the second novel in the Cardiff series in which Angel's parents reveal more of her unique family history.


A part of me could not write this novel without including my love of music and the arts. As a matter of fact, the violin was the second inspiration I had for this story, right after Falcon and his near death experiences. I’m preparing dinner and on the other side of my counter block il Dragone and Falcon wrestle on the floor. Il Dragone makes a deft motion toward Falcon’s face with a long, serrated knife. It stopped my meal preparations briefly, long enough to jot it down. Falcon was fine, after all. Just another dire image, one of many I was bombarded with for three weeks before I realized Falcon wanted his story written. Once I knew who my personal James Bond was, the music chose Angel. Nightclub and studio singing did not fit Angel’s lifestyle as it did mine. However, she was a perfect fit for the violin, one of my favorite musical instruments.


Falcon’s Angel – blurb

She’s a classical violinist and daughter of a dynasty with one passion; her Stradivarius. Falcon wants the Stradivarius in her possession, and goes undercover to track down a thief. But he is not the only killer in search of the violin.


il Dragone, a devil-worshiping cult, watches and waits.

Angelina wants to go unrecognized when she leaves her family’s Yorkshire estate to play in a symphony in Italy. But the Stradivarius, a gift from her deceased instructor, opens a door to hatred that is centuries old.

It isn’t long before Angelina is the target of a mugging on the streets of Naples. She pulls an odd earring out of her attacker’s ear as Falcon rescues her. The earring, a stylized dragon made of rubies, turns out to be a symbol for a mythical beast.

Falcon and Angelina are destined to relive a murderous cycle if they don't solve the mystery of the rubies.

And if Angel is planning to keep that violin, this is one special assignment that must be completed before il Dragone gets what they want.

Bio

If you asked me which is easier, writing songs or writing novels, I would say it was the former. Melodies and rhymes are second nature. What my characters want is another thing entirely. With my debut novel, Falcon’s Angel, I learned to listen to my spunky heroine and sinfully confident hero. They’re funny and in danger, and that’s just the way they want it. Lesson learned: don’t try to save them.

When I’m not writing, I exercise my lungs at my son’s soccer matches and our favorite theme park, because everyone knows it’s easier on the stomach to scream your way down a roller coaster.


Visit Falcon and Angel here:
http://danitaminnis.com/Home_Page.php#
EXCERPT:

Falcon stood in the shadowed courtyard of the Naples Conservatory. She left the building right on schedule. She had arrived early and stopped by the panetteria to pick up breakfast. She preferred the sweet rolls. When she left the music school, it was near dark.
Her schedule of classes wasn’t that bad. It was the time she spent practicing alone in whatever unoccupied classroom she could find that kept her there all day. She was dedicated, and very beautiful.
She had bumped into him in the hall two days ago on her way to class, “Scusi, Signore.” He did not know which was more shocking; the sound of her rich contralto or those huge liquid gold eyes, a striking contrast to the midnight waterfall rippling down her back.
He had purposely stepped in her path that day to confront her about the Stradivarius she carried. When he got a better look at her, he smiled “Perdonami,” and let her pass. Her lithe form glided down the hall.
If this goddess is a thief, she won’t have to take anything from me. I’ll give her whatever she wants, and more.
Although he allowed her to see him just that once, he had been watching her ever since. He did not know her name yet, but he called her Angel. Her unusual eyes made her seem like a fairy. Her fluid grace only enhanced the impression of an ethereal wood sprite.
The warm breeze lifting her summer print skirt silenced those thoughts.
Damned if he was not holding his breath waiting for the end of those legs before the gentle curve of her hips.
She crossed the darkening piazza and her full breasts danced under the white camisole top, making his mouth water. She was on her way home now.
She was staying at the Casa di Città on Piazza Avellino and now so was he. The apartment, a few avenues away from the Conservatory, was in the cultural Greco-Roman district, where the buildings themselves looked like archaeological finds.
Falcon emerged from the cluster of fig trees in the courtyard. He stopped when a man exited a side door off the Conservatory. The man started walking behind Angel.
Turning toward the fountain in the courtyard, he gave the man a head start. He fell in step behind the man, who carried no books, no instrument. Is he a teacher, or a lover? No, not a lover. The man didn’t even call out to the girl. He did not know her.
Falcon strolled along, looking into shop windows he passed. The man ignored a streetlight, but Falcon stopped, making sure no one followed him. With an idle shift from side to side, he waited for a car to cross the intersection.
Across the street, a teenager sat on the steps of a closed shop. He’d been there for the last few days. The car stopped at the curb in front of the teenager.
Someone should pick him up.
He would not jeopardize his cover for drug trafficking. He would leave that to the local polizia.
The light changed and Falcon crossed the street, satisfied that the man following Angel was alone.
They were walking through the ancient Roman marketplace, which was deserted now. When the girl got closer to the church built on the site of an old temple, the man began to close the distance between them.
Falcon shook his head as she reached the church corner. She never noticed the man who was just a few feet behind her now. When the man pushed her into the gloom around the church corner, they were lost from his sight. The girl screamed.
Sprinting, he rounded the corner. About ten feet away, the man was trying to wrestle the violin case from her against the wall.
Falcon pulled out his gun and aimed. “Let her go.”
The man turned toward him, and the girl pulled at his ear. The man bent, holding his stomach. He made an inarticulate sound before running away along the side of the building into the darkness.
Falcon darted past the girl and followed the man into the shadows.
What the hell?
Something flitted overhead, darker than the darkness in which he now stood alone. He pointed the Glock upward even as a figure walked up the side of the building. It looked like a black cloud but more solid than it should be.
Before he could get off a shot, the darkness disappeared over the side of the roof.
Staring at the dead end in front of him, Falcon put his gun away. No doors or windows on either side.
Where is the guy? Must be a hidden door somewhere, he’d check it out later.
Falcon turned back toward the girl. Beyond her, across the street, the man he had been chasing got into a car.
“No way,” he murmured as the car sped off. No way could the man have gotten past him in the alley.
The girl had both arms wrapped around the violin case in front of her. She was leaning against the church wall, crying.
A street lamp flickered on above them, belatedly bathing the passage in revealing light. She did not seem to realize that he was there.
“Did he hurt you, Signorina?”
She looked up. He lifted his gaze from her heaving chest.
“Grazie,” she whispered, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She shook her head. “I am fine.”
“You should not be walking alone at night.” The harsh reprimand in his voice surprised him. She was very young. Her tears wrought such vulnerability that he softened his tone when he came to stand in front of her. “Do you know that man?”
“No, I have never seen him before. But ... he knew me.”
“What did he say to you?”
She looked down at the violin.
He stared at her until she looked up. Ah, she had just found her story. It was in her eyes, and it was not the truth. The fear in her eyes told him that story would never change.
“He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at me...”
Her chest heaved again. He almost smiled; she was having a hard time with this lie.
She stared at him. “You are from the Conservatory. I saw you the other day.”
“Antonio Russo, Tony to my friends.” She did not hesitate to shake his hand, and he did smile then. She might be lying to him but at least she did not see him as a threat. She continued to stare at him. She must want more. “I’m taking classes at the Conservatory,” he added. “I play piano.”
“Oh yes, I’ve seen you in Signor Gattano’s class.”
He had signed up for the class because it was right next door to hers. So, she had noticed him, too. He smiled wider.
“Signorina, I could call you Bella, but that would not satisfy my curiosity.”
She lowered her eyelashes over cheeks flushed the color of the terracotta tiles on his mother’s sunlit patio in Tuscany. She tanned well for one so light. He almost lifted his hand to touch her cheek. There would be little satisfaction in knowing her name now that her skin was singing a siren’s song to him.
“My name is Angelina Natale.”
“Ah. You are an angel, after all. I have not seen you around here for very long. Did you just fall from heaven?”
He watched her full lips while the sound of earthy laughter, though shaky, amped up the adrenaline coursing through his veins. A vision of her lying naked beneath him, her golden eyes glazed in passion, teased him.
****************************************
Best wishes,
~Author Jennifer Labelle~

5 comments:

  1. Thanks for having me today, Jennifer!

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  2. Wow! My kind of read. I'm heading over to grab a copy to add to my must read list. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, too :-)

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    1. Hey Dariel!
      Thanks, I'm so glad it caught your eye!
      You know, I'm in the mood for a Dark Sentinel. Can't wait to read your new one!

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  3. Danita, your "Falcon's Angel" buy link is not working! Oh, the horror! I'm going to Amazon to find it.

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  4. This sounds like an awesome book. Thanks for coming on the blog today, Danita!

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