"Amazing, well written book that is part of a series but can be read in any order"
Reviewed by Laurie Simpson
Posted March 29, 2015
Fantasy Urban | Romance Paranormal
Ionie Gifford is a reporter looking for answers. The
"Others" don't frighten her, after all humans can be
pretty horrible too. Everyone deserves respect even if
they aren't human. She's smart, tenacious and can put two
and two together enough to know something is not quite
right with a story she is working on. She also wants to
know about her mother's murder and believes if she can
just find an angel...well, she may get some closure and
is willing to risk all.
Enter Jarrid, Half Angel Assassin in her bosses' office no
less! Ionie has no idea the real reason Jarrid has
entered her life. An outlaw angel wants her dead. Jarrid
needs her to flush the renegade angel out. A deal is
struck. Jarrid has a plan but when the half-breed angel
with no remorse finds himself falling for the brave and
unflinching Ionie he is forced to make the ultimate
sacrifice. Will it be love or the possible end of his
servitude to Heaven.
ANGEL BAIT is the second book in the amazing series. Tricia Skinner dives into exploring
the back story and diverse character development. So much
so that reading ANGEL BAIT before the first is a definite
option and in no way spoils the joy of reading the first
one after. The bond this family has is extraordinary.
They love each other with an obvious fierceness that no
one can break. There are so many directions to head in
this series and I for one am ready. Bring on number three
He's not that kind of angel.
Jarrid is a â€śBound Oneâ€ť: half angel, half human, trained
from childhood to enforce
Heavenâ€™s laws on earth. An assassin with no remorse. And
no choice. When he
discovers an ancient ritual called Ascension, which might
give him a shot at
freedom, he canâ€™t resist his lifelong dream. He only
needs to find one last
Renegade angel and take him downâ€¦using a certain woman to
flush the angel out of
She's not what he's expecting.
News reporter Ionie Gifford has no clue an outlaw angel
wants her dead, much less
why, but she does know one thing: the enigmatic Jarrid,
with his penetrating silver
eyes and his worship-worthy body, is her ticket to the
underworld, where she might finally be able to locate her
mother's killer. For that
kind of information, she's willing to risk everything...
They can't be together -- but can't keep apart...
Blindsided by Ionie's beauty and tenacity, Jarrid finds
the millennia-old glacier
around his heart melting. But when he's faced with a
choice, will he sacrifice
Ionie for freedom from his brutal servitudeâ€”or agree to
be bound for eternity, to
protect the life of the woman he's falling in love with?
From novelist Tricia Skinner comes a story that will have
fans of action-packed
love stories applauding. Seamlessly combining elements of
paranormal romance and
gritty urban fantasy, the Angel Assassins series is a
heart-pounding spin on angel
ExcerptShe leaned back and studied him, taking in the casual way
his thigh rested against a
chair. Her throat closed, smothering her clever retort.
Jarrid angled his chiseled
face to study items on her desk, and Ionie caught the
awed stares of her passing
One woman tripped over her own feet.
Another face-planted into a wall.
The half-angel was so handsome it hurt. Jarrid didnâ€™t
seem to notice the attention
directed at him. Or maybe he didnâ€™t care.
â€śYouâ€™re upset I wonâ€™t allow photos, but you still plan to
work with me,â€ť he said,
his fingers sliding over a shriveled dictionary. â€śI want
to know why.â€ť
â€śIâ€™m not upset.â€ť Ionie snorted, a sound she hoped made
her seem indifferent. â€śYouâ€™ve
answered my prayers. Iâ€™m used to working obits, or
chasing the occasional fire
He flicked his head at the desk adjoining hers. â€śYou work
â€śI donâ€™t do partners.â€ť
â€śYet you will do me.â€ť The simple statement, spoken in his
sexy rumble, liquefied the
marrow in her bones.
â€śUh,â€ť she said. â€śMy work takes on a whole new meaning
when you say it.â€ť
He leaned in, a smooth slide of firm muscle and taut
flesh. She caught a whiff of
his scent; she hadnâ€™t noticed it before. Something
nameless, celestial like the man
â€” the being â€” it belonged to. She inhaled deep, lulled by
his nearness. Gorgeous. No
other word fit him better.
â€śIs there a problem?â€ť Jarridâ€™s lips curved down. His tone
held an edge she couldnâ€™t
â€śProblem?â€ť Marioâ€™s smooth voice yanked Ionie from her
trance. She shook her head and
leaned away from the nephilim. â€śYou okay, kid?â€ť
What the hell was she doing? Ionie strained to smile at
Jarrid. The half-angelâ€™s
face presented a solid mask, obscuring any hint of his
â€śIâ€™m fine,â€ť she said. â€śMario, this is Jarrid. Heâ€™s with
The Bound Ones â€¦ and my new
story. Jarrid, this is Mario Hernandez. He trained me on
the graveyard shift.â€ť
â€śStory?â€ť The men exchanged handshakes. She could see
Marioâ€™s mind working behind his
â€śOn Patrickâ€™s say so.â€ť She suppressed some of her
excitement. â€śIâ€™m doing a feature
on angel society.â€ť
â€śAngels donâ€™t seek attention. Why the switch?â€ť
â€śTimes change,â€ť Jarrid said in a tight, controlled voice.
The older reporter narrowed his eyes at the flat tone.
She didnâ€™t blame him.
â€śDoesnâ€™t explain why the boys above have sent a nephilim.
Arenâ€™t you guys a bit high
level for PR?â€ť
The muscles in Jarridâ€™s arms ticked. â€śMy work is
â€śI bet,â€ť Mario said.
Ionie stared at her friend, then Jarrid. The corded line
of his neck bulged with
thick, throbbing veins. Her source appeared ready to
pounce on the curious old coot.
She slid off her chair. â€śWe should get going.â€ť
Neither man moved. Ionie reached out and touched Jarridâ€™s
bicep. His arm shifted
beneath her hand like sheâ€™d branded him. She removed her
fingers before he decided
to break them off.
No touching. Got it.
Without a word, he marched from the office. With the
weird question and answer
session over, she grabbed her bag and hauled ass to catch
â€śWhat happened back there?â€ť She jogged to keep pace with
him, his long strides
churning yards of polished marble floor in his wake. â€śWhy
are you acting like this?â€ť
He turned on her with a scowl. â€śYour buddy is
â€śNewsflash. Heâ€™s a reporter, like me. Nosey is what we
do.â€ť That didnâ€™t help. Not
the way Jarrid stared at her as if sheâ€™d sprouted horns.
â€śYouâ€™re a big deal in
Heaven, huh? If itâ€™s a secret, you shouldnâ€™t be hanging
around journalists. We suck
up secrets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.â€ť
â€śWe keep to ourselves.â€ť A tremor of annoyance filtered
through the words.
â€śNot anymore.â€ť The two of them standing in a newspaper
lobby made the whole
conversation seem ridiculous. Ionie stepped closer to
Jarrid and angled her head to
see his eyes. â€śNot many people can say theyâ€™ve seen, or
met, an angel. Your kind
might want to keep on the down low, but when you step
out, youâ€™re going to draw
His steady glare told her he didnâ€™t believe a word. Or
maybe he didnâ€™t like what he
heard. Or maybe he just liked glaring at her like sheâ€™d
eventually shut the hell up.
Jerk. Angels werenâ€™t the only ones who preferred
seclusion. Try tracking down the
Fae. Those bastards were near impossible to get out in
the open. Sheâ€™d tried.
â€śAngels and nephilim are private. I get the cloak and
dagger bull, but you came to
me. This covert thing? You want people to answer your
He gave a microscopic bob of his head.
â€śFirst lesson? People are naturally curious, especially
humans.â€ť Ionie moistened her
bottom lip. She hated the nervous response, but Jarrid
held a remote control on her
anxiety. â€śThey may have questions for you, too. Weâ€™re
drawn to the unknown like
butter to toast, at least according to my grandma. Iâ€™ll
help you. Youâ€™ll help me.
Everybody gets what they need.â€ť
Silver eyes dipped to her lips.
The gap between them sizzled like someone had flipped on
a low-voltage current.
Every hair on her skin saluted. She stared into his eyes
and her heartbeat doubled.
By now she should be nervous, but the hint of danger she
sensed in him only brought
an embarrassing rush of arousal.
Her face must have flushed apple red because Jarridâ€™s
mouth parted. His now wide
gaze traced over her features, lingering on her cheeks
and lips. She should kiss
him. Kiss him right in the middle of her workplace. Kiss
him in front of Stan the
desk clerk who took classified ads. One kiss on the
nephilimâ€™s too-full lips. One
hard press â€¦ .
She licked her lip again. His gaze tracked her tongue.
Before she could lean into
his body and act on the impulse, he jerked back and
stepped out of reach.
â€śWhat are you doing?â€ť His voice was low, dangerous.
What was she doing? Sheâ€™d almost pounced on a guy at
work! She didnâ€™t jump her
sources. Another wave of heat seared her face and she
stared at her feet. â€śSo â€¦ we
still have a deal?â€ť
Jarrid didnâ€™t reply. She chanced a peek at him and he
looked pissed. His back was
ramrod straight and his eyes glowed. Maybe sheâ€™d offended
his angel sensibilities
with her odd human reactions.
Wasnâ€™t he half-Human? Did he feel an attraction to her?
A miserable minute ticked by.
â€śWe still have a deal,â€ť he said. â€śFirst, you meet my
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