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Angel Fever
by L.A. Weatherly
ANGEL BOOK THREE
As half-angel Willow strives to save the world from her parasitic otherworldly kin, romance and tension heat up to a climactic finale.
In the devastated remains of the world, millions of people live in “refugee” camps provided by the angels who have all but enslaved humanity. As this angelic stranglehold tightens, Willow and Alex are recruiting and training new Angel Killers while struggling to hold ground on the celestial battlefield. But Willow continues to have feelings for Seb, and her love and resolve are tested as a shattering revelation sends Alex on a separate journey. Now that the final battle versus the angels is about to begin-and the fate of the world hangs in the balance-each of them must face the consequences of their own choices. Will love endure? Will the human race survive?
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Age Group/Genre: Young Adult, Paranormal Romance
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(It’s Willow’s
birthday. Alex has given her a love poem written by his grandfather for his
grandmother.)
When I slipped into our room, the bedside lamp was still on. Alex lay asleep with the covers half thrown off his chest. He looked so tired, even while sleeping, so vulnerable with his bandaged arm.
The tension from the argument with Seb
fell away. I leaned against the door, taking in the rise and fall of Alex’s
breathing. Wonder came over me. How could it be that I knew Alex so intimately,
that I’d seen his body so many times . . . and could still be so entranced by
the sight of him?
Silently, I got undressed, draping my
jeans and the black sequined top over the chair. I lined Meghan’s lucky shoes
up carefully and brushed a smidge of dirt off one. I wanted them to be perfect
when I gave them back to her tomorrow.
As I slipped on a camisole top, I could
feel I was being watched. I turned; Alex lay gazing at me with his good arm
propped under his head, the woven bracelet a splash of color against his wrist.
“Just enjoying the view,” he said.
I smiled and crawled into bed next to
him. “How are you feeling?”
He yawned and put his arm around me.
“Yeah, OK. I took another pill. Did you have a good time?”
I didn’t want to even go into the
conversation with Seb—Alex would say I should have minded my own business, and
he’d be right. I shrugged. “Being with you is a lot better.” I fell silent as I
stroked his chest, gazing down at him. “I loved the poem,” I said quietly.
He gave an embarrassed grimace. “I guess
it was kind of a stupid present.”
“It wasn’t. It made me cry.”
“OK, then it was definitely a stupid
present. It was supposed to make you happy.”
“They were happy tears.”
Alex regarded me with a small smile.
“Happy tears,” he repeated. “You are such a girl sometimes.”
“Is that a problem?” My breath caught
slightly as his hand moved down my side, caressing every rise and fall of me.
He shook his head, his eyes steady on
mine. “No. That is totally not a problem.” He’d eased up my camisole; though I
could feel he was still in pain, he bent and kissed my exposed waist softly,
lingeringly. “I meant every word, Willow,” he whispered. “It was like my
granddad was right inside my head—it’s exactly what I feel. I couldn’t get
through any of this without you.”
I swallowed hard and put my hand over
his. His fingers were warm under mine; we wove them together as we gazed at
each other. If holding me was greater than any universe . . . then so was
looking into his eyes.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll never
have to.”
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L. A. Weatherly is the author of the bestselling Angel series, as well as almost 50 other books for children and teenagers. She’s originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and lives in Hampshire, England with her husband. Her books have been translated into over 10 different languages.
You can find L.A. Weatherly here:
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