Phoenix Ablaze (BBW / Phoenix Shifter Romance) (Alpha Phoenix Book 1)

by Isadora Montrose

  Table of Contents

  COPYRIGHT

  BOOKS BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  SEXY SNEAK PEEK

  PHOENIX ABLAZE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  BEAR NECESSITIES PREVIEW

  BEAR NECESSITIES: CHAPTER ONE

  BEAR NECESSITIES: CHAPTER TWO

  BEAR SKIN PREVIEW

  BEAR SKIN: CHAPTER ONE

  BEAR SKIN: CHAPTER TWO

  DRAGON'S PLEASURE PREVIEW

  DRAGON'S PLEASURE: CHAPTER ONE

  DRAGON'S PLEASURE: CHAPTER TWO

  COMING SOON

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  Phoenix Ablaze ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

  Bear Necessities: Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

  Bear Skin: Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

  Dragon’s Pleasure: Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

  Cover Art by Resplendent Media ©Copyright 2016

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author, Isadora Montrose.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.

  Books by Isadora Montrose

  Bear Necessities

  Bear Possibilities

  Bear Affinities

  Bear Infinities

  Bear Fursuits Books 1-4

  Bear Cubs for Christmas (available only in Bear Fursuits Books 1-4 Bundle)

  Bearly Begun

  Bearly Enough

  Bearly Ever

  Bearly Forever

  Bearly Beloved

  Bear Skin: A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance

  Dragon’s Treasure

  Dragon’s Successor

  Brides for the Bachelor Bears Books 0-4 Bundle

  Bearly a Bride (available only in Brides for the Bachelor Bears)

  Dragon’s Pleasure

  Bear Pause: A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance

  Dragon’s Christmas Captive (available in Shifters, Secrets & Surprises)

  Dragon’s Possession

  Phoenix Aglow

  Phoenix Ablaze

  Amazon Author Page: https://amazon.com/author/isadoramontrose

  SEXY SNEAK PEEK

  “You’re quite a woman,” Pierce said.

  “Me?” Diana sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside hers.

  “You.” He slipped an arm around her waist and leaned forward to snag a grape. He put it between his lips and set it against hers.

  Out of sheer surprise, her lips parted. He bit down and half a grape spurted against her tongue. He licked grape juice off her lips and chewed. Her insides melted. That had to be the sexiest thing she had ever experienced. And he hadn’t even put his tongue in her mouth. Was this a game she could also play?

  He put a grape to her lips with his fingers. She bit down on half and felt his smile against her teeth. She licked his lips, enjoying his taste, pulling it into her mouth. They took turns until the bowl was half-empty. She was breathless and giggling, yet having to press her thighs together she was so turned on. This method of sharing grapes was silly, chaste, and hot all at once. And intimate. Very intimate. She couldn’t imagine forgetting what he tasted like.

  His laughter died and he pushed the bowl away. “I’m ready for dessert,” he growled.

  Diana opened her mouth to tell him that the grapes were all there was, but all she got out was a squeak as his mouth claimed hers at last. He wasn’t rough. And he didn’t thrust his tongue down her throat. But he angled her head gently so he could taste the secret places between her teeth and lips. He sucked lightly on her lower lip. He tasted of grapes and essence of alpha male.

  He paused to whisper a question. “What do you like?”

  She didn’t know. She knew what she didn’t like. She didn’t like a hard tongue scouring her tonsils. She didn’t like having her hair pulled so hard her neck ached. But Pierce wasn’t doing any of those things. And he didn’t seem to want to.

  He kissed his way along her jawline. “Do you like this?” She nodded like a bobble head doll.

  He suckled her earlobe and her pussy pulsed and clenched. “Do you like that?” Again she responded like a spring-loaded toy. He made a noise of pure masculine satisfaction and delight.

  His tongue traced the curve of her ear and blew softly on the skin he had wetted. She quivered. “How about that?” he asked.

  “I like it.” Her voice was a breathy purr she didn’t recognize.

  “Good.” He pulled her astride him. Her thighs spread to accommodate his hard hips. She could feel his cock against her mound, although he did not grind her against it. She squirmed a little and felt him buck inside his pants. His fingers played at her waist, stroking little circles through her silky top. His teeth grazed the front of her throat and his tongue swirled in the hollow of her throat.

  Suddenly she wanted to touch as she was being touched. She stroked his nipples through his shirt and felt him stiffen. He moaned against her throat. “Do that again, babe.”

  In her wildest imaginings, she had not thought she would enjoy a man calling her babe. But the guttural desperation in Pierce’s voice made it the sexiest compliment in the world.

  PHOENIX ABLAZE

  ALPHA PHOENIX

  BOOK 1

  by

  Isadora Montrose

  CHAPTER ONE

  Missiles roared out of an apparently featureless gray landscape. Two screeched past the fighter jet. The third scored a direct hit to the fuselage. The plane lurched sideways. Despite the tight webbing of the seat belts, the pilot and the co-pilot were tossed around in their seats like crash test dummies. The controls went slack in the pilot’s hands. Maj. Pierce D’Angelo wrestled futilely with his joystick. A split second later he accepted that his aircraft was in a nosedive from which he could not divert it.

  “Take over,” Maj. D’Angelo ordered his co-pilot.

  Lt. Edwin Hatcher was still flipping switches as per standing orders, one hand on his stick. He engaged and attempted to level the plane. His controls were as slack as D’Angelo’s. The plane began to spin as it maintained its downward trajectory.

  “Eject,” D’Angelo ordered.

  Despite the damage done to the aircraft, the mechanisms that released Pierce’s seat responded smoothly. He was in freefall at the count of three. His parachute deployed precisely fifteen seconds after he pulled the cord. Automatically, he checked for Hatch. The other officer shot past him, chute still unopened, orange ripcord handle gripped in one fist, the attached cord flailing wildly.

  Pierce knew Hatc
h was in freefall. Neither of them had been issued auxiliary packs with backup parachutes. The uprush of air into Pierce’s parachute yanked him away from his subordinate. He saw rather than heard Hatch’s scream. Without a parachute, his teammate was doomed.

  Pierce was unbuckling his own parachute before he realized he had made a decision. The canopy floated away as he shifted into phoenix. His buff-colored G-suit became confetti whisked away on the hot winds. A blazing bird spread his enormous wings to catch the fierce updraft.

  Only the radiant glow of phoenix plumage could be seen by human eyes. The dazzling, paranormal rainbow colors of their feathers were virtually impossible for ordinary mortals to see — particularly at high speed. Pierce might appear as an iridescent blur too bright to focus on, but that was all. If anyone was observing his descent, he was now as good as invisible.

  Far below him, Hatch’s body splayed out and spiraled helplessly towards the ground. Pierce could see that Hatch was unconscious. That was one blessing of freefalling. You passed out before you hit the ground. Before you died.

  Pierce was strong. Impossibly strong. In greater phoenix, he was as large as a small plane and just as fast. His eyesight was more acute than an eagle’s. At will, with the touch of a single feather, he could set anything afire. But to save his brother officer, speed was what he needed.

  Pierce folded his immense wings against his torso and prepared to dive. Like a blast from a suddenly opened furnace, a rush of hot wind battered him from the side, reminding him that this was the Arabian Desert. He fought for control. Despite the urgency and terror of the moment, he had to fight the dizzying excitement that accompanied flying faster than the speed of sound. As always, acceleration was itself an intoxicant.

  Like the streamlined raptor he was, Pierce dropped headfirst, aiming for Hatch. Below him, his buddy grew bigger as the phoenix got closer. Twenty feet above the ground, he extended his wings, thrust his mighty legs forward, and snatched Hatch’s torso in his talons. His wings decelerated them both.

  Pierce had pulled his buddy back from the brink of death. But he had not calculated for the extra weight and momentum of Hatch’s burly body. His balance altered. He destabilized. There was no time to correct his error. Pierce juddered and cartwheeled in the air on wings that had lost their lift. The ground rose up to meet him.

  The landing knocked the air from Pierce’s lungs. His eyes opened. The dust had settled. He had a worrying sense of being newly awakened. How long had he been out? Pain overwhelmed him. Each breath was crippling agony. Hatch’s body was a dead weight, pinning him to the rocky ground. Had he killed himself attempting to save a dead man?

  The hot wind roared down through the gray and rocky mountains, flinging a storm cloud of gritty dust around. As if this was a signal, guns blazed from the stunted shrubs a hundred yards to the north of them. Pierce did the only thing he could do. He became fire.

  Crap. Despite Hatch’s flameproof suit, Pierce had set his buddy ablaze. If his co-pilot wasn’t already dead, he would be soon. But the fire roused the other man, who immediately began to roll in the dust, smothering the flames that enveloped him. Hatch had extinguished his G-suit and was pulling out his pistol, before the fire-that-was-Pierce had reached the clump of bushes that was his goal. Those dusty, desiccated shrubs ignited even faster than Hatch’s G-suit.

  The enemy guns went silent. Hatch emptied his pistol into the clump of bushes where the muzzle flashes had come from. Pierce desperately tried to decide on his best course of action. When a phoenix became fire, he could regenerate. But the risk was great. It was always your last option. And he had never done it before. Other members of his clan had told him about regeneration. It hurt. A lot. And there were other drawbacks too.

  But his phoenix form had been dying before he took fire. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he returned to human now. Probably nothing good. The pathway to rejuvenation was fire, phoenix, human. In that order. Excruciating agony clouded his thinking, but he struggled to reason out his options. The vegetation was too sparse to sustain him as fire for long. If he continued to blaze, he would burn away to ash. He had to take phoenix soon. And yet, remaining fire was tempting beyond his imaginings. Just as he had always been warned.

  As if trying to extinguish him, the wind blew harder. But the fresh oxygen only made him burn hotter. Blue flames jumped from the flaming bushes that Pierce was now a part of, and blazed a path across the desert scrub setting it on fire. Smoke rose in towering clouds. The dusty, spiny shrubs screening the guerrillas became a bonfire. Pierce followed willy-nilly. He was the fire, but he had lost control of his talent, and the brush fire had taken on a life of its own.

  In the face of certain immolation, the guerrillas leapt up, abandoning their hidden emplacement. Bent double, they scurried away, beating at their clothing with panicky hands. An engine started. Their dust-colored armored vehicle roared out of a pile of rocks, heading away from the fire which stood between them and their prey. A black haze effectively screened them even from Pierce’s paranormal vision.

  He gathered his remaining strength. He and the scrubby bushes had become one mighty conflagration. He would die if he did not abandon this form. He ignored the searing agony, and the desire to remain a flame, and thrust upward. His phoenix emerged from the embers as perfect as if he had never fallen. Never burned. More than perfect. Improved.

  He felt larger and more muscular than before. Wider. Longer. Stronger. His forked tailfeathers streamed far behind him as he glided over the smoke. This was fantastic. Abruptly he lost altitude. This too was something he had been warned about. After regeneration, initially you were as clumsy as a raw-boned adolescent after first-change.

  All around him the winds calmed. The dust storm died down as precipitously as it had begun. The smoke lightened. Pierce tried to level out, but his newly made wings were sluggish. It took all his concentration to get his flight feathers to work.

  Like all birds, a phoenix’s feathers were individually under full control. But like any fledgling, Pierce had had to learn to fly when he came into his talent in his teens. It now felt as if he had to relearn the whole process. And this inhospitable place was no ideal training arena.

  To his relief, he caught a thermal and soared, regaining altitude. He peered through the lingering smoke and dust. Lightning split the sky. Before the noise of the thunderclap had reached him, torrential rain soaked the parched earth. The heavy drops also extinguished Pierce’s flaming feathers and beat fiercely at his wings. Worse, it saturated his plumage. He plunged for a second time to the ground.

  The violent downpour stopped as quickly as it had begun. But by then it was too late. Pierce made a clumsy landing a long way from Hatch. Probably at least a mile. The brief violent rain had washed the air clean. Pierce could see the other officer clearly now, even though Hatch had camouflaged himself with mud.

  He took stock. He was hurt. Not as badly as he had been when Hatch brought him down. But badly. For sure his left wing was broken. And he was in bird form. Rule one was never stay in phoenix when mortals were around. He would heal quickly in this form, but not as quickly as a search team would reach him. Shit.

  As he slipped into unconsciousness, Pierce commanded his battered body to perform a last change to human. The three jeeps sent to locate the downed jet found a naked and bleeding Maj. D’Angelo wearing only his dog tags. He lay motionless on the pitted desert ground, an apparent casualty of the enemy. He had a dent in one temple. His left arm was shattered. He was unconscious. Only his bleeding wounds proved he was alive. Patrol laid him beside Lt. Hatcher, and transported both men to the field hospital.

  The fighter jet was salvaged by locals. For months, they eked out a living selling the scraps to the US military. A ragged goat herder told an improbable tale of a glorious bird that set the desert on fire, thereby depriving his flock of forage. This earned him a beating from the uncle whose goats had gone hungry, as well as a reputation as a masterful storyteller of enviable inventiveness.<
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  CHAPTER TWO

  She hadn’t come to the gym today. It was always a bad day when Curvy Girl didn’t show. She didn’t always come while Pierce was working out, which he did six days a week, between seven and nine. She wasn’t at the coffee shop either. He glanced at his watch. It was almost ten now. Break time.

  Curvy Girl wasn’t exactly as regular at the Bluebonnet as he was. But several times a week she dropped in with some of the other nurses from the VA clinic. They would sit together at a table laughing and chatting and decompressing. Today he recognized three of her coworkers sitting at their usual corner table.

  They were kind women. And they probably didn’t know they were being indiscreet. They spoke in low voices, and they named no names. But they discussed their patients just the same. The Navajo elder who had lung cancer but didn’t want to be treated because he wanted to die in his traditional round hogan where he could see the sacred mountain. The alcoholic who was by turns sentimental and clingy and aggressively violent.

  They chewed over the difficult cases in hushed voices and commiserated with one another. They didn’t expect to be overheard in their back corner. How could they know that they were being overheard by a guy with super normal hearing?

  But Curvy Girl had not joined them today. Pierce hoped it wasn’t because she was avoiding him. He had tried not to alarm her. Not to send out waves of longing that would make her think he was some kind of lustful animal. But of course he was. He was a phoenix. And Curvy Girl was his fated mate.

  Just as his father and brothers had warned him, finding his destined bride had brought out his most primeval possessiveness. Not exactly a characteristic to win the heart of a modern woman. He needed to stamp down his instincts lest he frighten off his one and only Fate.

  Whether Curvy Girl — Diana — knew it or not, he was hunting her. Hunting your mate was all right and proper, but in this day and age it was more likely to make a woman run screaming from you rather than into your arms. But Pierce could be patient. Phoenixes were predators and patience and timing were as innate as possessiveness.