Let Me Fly
A.C. Pontone
(Wild
Wings, #1)
Publication date: September 9th 2021
Genres: Adult, Paranor-
mal, 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 an-
gels 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 con-
tains 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 charac-
ter, 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.
Goodreads / Amazon
—
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 to-
gether. “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 my-
self 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 un-
derstand 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 nar-
row 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. </
p>
But it’s not going to happen. Less than three hours from now I’m going to es-
cape. 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.
Author Bio:
Angela Camilla Pontone is a USA Today bestselling author. She lives in Italy, in
a town between Rome and Naples. She's been an avid reader since childhood. She
prefers romance, but will gobble up pretty much anything that's available. She's al-
ways loved history and literature, so she obtained a Master's Degree in the fields of
Italian and Romance Languages, Literatures and Philology, Historical and Musicolog-
ical Studies, Latin Languages and Literatures, Ancient History, and Archaeology.</
p>
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.
For all the latest news about her books and events, sign up now at https://
my.sendinblue.com/users/subscribe/js_id/3t1ws/id/3 to receive Camilla's newslet-
ter.
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