Phoenix Alight Read online

  Table of Contents

  COPYRIGHT

  BOOKS BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  A NOTE FROM ISADORA

  SEXY SNEAK PEEK

  PHOENIX ALIGHT

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  PHOENIX AFLAME PREVIEW

  PHOENIX AFLAME: CHAPTER ONE

  PHOENIX AFLAME: CHAPTER TWO

  BEAR FATE PREVIEW

  BEAR FATE: CHAPTER ONE

  BEAR FATE: CHAPTER TWO

  BEAR FATE: CHAPTER THREE

  CHRISTMAS FLAME PREVIEW

  CHRISTMAS FLAME: CHAPTER ONE

  CHRISTMAS FLAME: CHAPTER TWO

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  Table of Contents

  COPYRIGHT

  BOOKS BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  A NOTE FROM ISADORA

  SEXY SNEAK PEEK

  PHOENIX ALIGHT

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  PHOENIX AFLAME PREVIEW

  PHOENIX AFLAME: CHAPTER ONE

  PHOENIX AFLAME: CHAPTER TWO

  BEAR FATE PREVIEW

  BEAR FATE: CHAPTER ONE

  BEAR FATE: CHAPTER TWO

  BEAR FATE: CHAPTER THREE

  CHRISTMAS FLAME PREVIEW

  CHRISTMAS FLAME: CHAPTER ONE

  CHRISTMAS FLAME: CHAPTER TWO

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  Phoenix Alight ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2017

  Cover Art by Resplendent Media ©Copyright 2017

  Phoenix Aflame ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

  Christmas Flame Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2017

  Bear Fate Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2017

  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 Bundle

  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

  Dragon’s Possession

  Phoenix Aglow

  Phoenix Ablaze

  Phoenix Aflame

  Billionaire Dragon Lords Books 1-3 Bundle

  Dragon’s Confession

  Bear Sin: A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance

  Phoenix Alight

  Bear Fate: A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance

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

  Welcome to the paranormal world of my glorious Air Force Alpha Phoenixes. Each story deals with the love story of a different member of the D’Angelo family.

  Every Alpha Phoenix romance is a standalone book that may be enjoyed entirely on its own. Each one ends Happily Ever After and the main storyline is always resolved. No matter where in the series you start, I promise you a fabulous, sensual read with a complete adventure and a guaranteed HEA and no cliffhangers.

  Dive in and enjoy the paranormal waters!

  Isadora

  SEXY SNEAK PEEK

  Frankie~

  Cam was never a rough lover. But he was a big, passionate man. And Frankie had never known him to be this turned on. His excitement intensified her own as though they were amplifying each other’s desire. As undoubtedly they were.

  “I want to throw you down and take you until I don’t know where you begin and I end.”

  “I don’t think I would enjoy being between a rock and a hard place.” She reached down and gave him an encouraging squeeze.

  He lifted her by the waist. “Think we can stay afloat?”

  “We can only try.” She wound her legs around his muscular waist and dug her heels into the hollow of his buttocks and pressed into the hard muscle. They bobbed around in the water. Frankie rubbed against his furry six-pack. “Works for me,” she teased, as his belly curls stimulated her and she clenched in anticipation.

  His laughter was a great boom of sheer joy. “You smell ready,” he rumbled into her neck.

  She was ready. But she didn’t want this moment over too soon. “Work for it, Bear Boy,” she ordered.

  A big hand hoisted her left buttock and made a space for his hand to roam. Three fingers spread her folds and surged inside. She felt soft and swollen. And the hot water from the spring added to the excitement of being touched by Cameron, as if it was intoxicating her from the inside. Or perhaps that was his fingers. Cameron’s fingers.

  “I don’t want your juices watered down,” he whispered gruffly. “I want you slick and slippery so I can ram right up to your womb.”

  His crude talk made her hotter. So did the delicate way he pinched her. She tried to hold back. But this was Cam. They were mated. She began to convulse. Even before her climax hit, he was thrusting upward. They sank like stones. He kicked hard and they shot to the surface.

  Frankie gripped his hips with her thighs. They dropped beneath the water. He propelled them upward. Their kisses were brief, interrupted by plunging and breaching. The water lapped around their bodies supporting and sucking. It was as invigorating as a carn
ival ride. Strenuous. Sensual. Sacred. Spiced with danger.

  They played their game like the vigorous athletes they both were. Sharing laughing, happy kisses as they rose and fell beneath the turquoise water. Cam was sweating. So was she. It only added to the experience. This was passion at its most elemental and rapturous.

  “Now,” Cam said.

  They sank languorously beneath the splashing water. Cam was utterly relaxed within the circle of her arms. Motionless, except for his favorite organ which was pumping into her. Her turn. She kicked hard and raised them to the surface.

  Cam took a great gasping breath. His face was a mask of repletion. He hugged her against his heart so that his chest hair scoured her tender nipples. She felt his aftershocks meld with her own. Breathed in perfect synchrony with him. Met him out on the paranormal plane in swooning ecstasy.

  They floated together, spent but not tired. Just filled with an aching tenderness that could only be satisfied by skin to skin contact.

  He rested his forehead against hers. “What have you done to me, Phoenix?”

  “Must be the hot springs. Or the lava.”

  “Nope. It’s you. It feels as if my body and yours are one. How is this even possible?” His deep voice was awestruck. “How can our love keep getting bigger?”

  “I think love makes the heart expand,” she explained. The sheer blissful wonder of it suffused her. She shimmied around him. “Let’s not waste this.”

  “Wouldn’t want to squander our strength,” he returned. “Do you think we get to skip the part where we crash?”

  “You mean after orgasm?”

  “I mean after battle,” he said dryly, referring to the post-combat exhaustion that followed on the bio-cocktail of hormones that got you through the tough times. The skirmish with the Hellhounds had taken a lot out of both of them.

  “Don’t know. This is such an extraordinary experience. Maybe?”

  He laughed and his chest vibrated with hers. His lightheartedness was hers. “We may drown,” he warned.

  “Drowning in pleasure. What a way to go.” She mimed passing out.

  “Slow this time?”

  “Yeah. But with that teeter-totter action.”

  PHOENIX ALIGHT

  ALPHA PHOENIX

  BOOK 4

  by

  Isadora Montrose

  CHAPTER ONE

  Frankie~

  Night ops. Her favorite. She absolutely had the best job in the Air Force. Possibly in the world. Captain Frankie D’Angelo opened the large buff-colored envelope marked TOP SECRET and read through her orders.

  She was to fly blind into uncharted enemy territory and do aerial reconnaissance. In the last sixteen days, three of twelve supply planes had been shot down. Twenty KIA. Seven MIA presumed captured. Three planes lost, six others badly damaged. Thirty-six drones picked off by snipers. A catastrophic sixteen days for the US military. Her task was to fix this clusterfuck.

  The mountains and the prevailing winds meant that the supply planes had no alternative but to use this route. Carefully aimed artillery had failed to take out the subterranean enemy emplacement. She was to search and destroy and if possible return with the detailed photographic data that would insure that if – make that when – ISIS rebuilt they could be swiftly destroyed.

  Frankie was dressed for combat flying. Her emergency chute was a constricting bulge on top of her breasts. Her bulky G-suit restricted her mobility even more. Nothing new there, D’Angelo. Costume designed for the flat-chested male. Deal with it.

  She buckled on the outsized night vision helmet and to her everything became an eerie red and gray. She strapped herself into the single-seat cockpit, which was barely large enough for her. Thick webbing crisscrossed her chest and pressed her firmly to the seat back, while giving her just enough mobility to access the instrument panel.

  Unconsciously, Capt. D’Angelo became one with her plane. Infused its controls with her own paranormal phoenix energy, until it was literally an extension of her body. Calmed her breathing and her pulse, and then she was airborne.

  She had the coordinates of her target, but the landscape was a blank. She was supposed to locate the secret, uncharted enemy base, neutralize it, and return to base without being taken out herself. Just the sort of assignment she most loved. It combined danger with an opportunity to handle a spanking new fighter jet that she had helped design. Perfect.

  The instrument panel was a daunting mosaic of buttons flashing a dazzling pattern of bright lights. Her brain sorted them swiftly. Her gloved fingers flew over them, flicking and pressing. Frankie calibrated her speed and altitude and oriented herself to the unknown location.

  The transparent canopy of the jet revealed a clear night sky turned gray by her infrared goggles. But she recognized the stars immediately. Having identified the constellation above her, she brought to her mind’s eye a detailed image of the landscape below. She had the advantage over her colleagues that she had flown these skies in both greater and lesser phoenix. The terrain was as familiar to her as her own home.

  These new night vision goggles were a distinct improvement over the ones they were designed to replace. The four-scope design had been retained. But the lenses and optics had definitely been tweaked. The infrared was vastly more powerful. Not that a phoenix needed night goggles, but they were standard issue for night missions.

  She recognized the rock formations and pinpointed the entrances to the underground caverns that pockmarked this region. For centuries, the inhabitants had been enlarging the natural caves and using them for defense and offense. They had an underground network of tunnels that reached for miles and could be easily provisioned. Most importantly, the enemy had access to huge reservoirs of water. They were set up for a siege.

  The cockpit screen displayed patches of infrared overlaid on blank green. From memory she filled in the hills and dunes and the goat tracks that stood in for roads in this area. From the present heat signature, she estimated two dozen personnel on the surface. Probably armed with rocket blasters with infrared scopes that could effortlessly pick her plane out of the sky. Frankie hummed happily as she fine-tuned her trajectory.

  With her mental map of the area, it was child’s play for her to predict where the big guns had been embedded. She probably faced old Soviet tech. Possibly the latest US issue. Global trade in weapons created many opportunities for treason. But her mission was not to uncover treason, it was to take out this death trap.

  If she could see the enemy, they could see her. Instinctively Frankie banked the plane and zigzagged it through the sky. The Scud missile that intersected what had been her flight path was intercepted by a Patriot missile. The resulting shock waves created turbulence that she rode like whitewater. This was getting interesting. The night sky lit up. Her helmet deflected most of the noise.

  On the ground the heat signatures were moving frantically. Random shots created bursts of light in the air. The enemy was spooked. Frankie circled back, dropped a thousand feet in a nosedive, pulled up at the last second. Only the oxygen tube connected to her helmet and face mask prevented her from passing out.

  She leveled out and dropped her load. Scored a direct hit. As the bomb exploded, the landscape lit up with visible light. Dirt rose three hundred feet. Shrapnel from the destroyed guns spread out in a deadly circle. Fire blazed. Frankie whistled the victory song of her phoenix clan in a frequency undetectable by her human observers.

  The trip back to the ship was uneventful. But she flew the plane as she flew all aircraft, as if it were a part of her body. The instrument panel was infused with her spirit. She channeled her inner phoenix, and executed a perfect landing on the deck of the aircraft carrier. The steel arrestor cable that caught her plane yanked her back against her seat hard enough to break bones. But she was used to that. And the G-suit compensated.

  Before she could disengage her harness, the rear door to the flight simulator was wrenched open, dispelling the illusion that she was in a fighter jet. Co
l. Brigham’s tidy gray head poked inside. “How the hell did you do that, D’Angelo?”

  Frankie unbuckled the last set of straps. Swiveled to face her commanding officer. “Do what, sir?”

  Brigham backed up so she could exit the flight simulator. “Get back in one piece.”

  “With respect, sir, that was my mission.” When had she ever failed to accomplish what she had been given to do?

  “Every other pilot executing this mission got taken out by that Scud missile. How did you see it coming?”

  Frankie pulled off her helmet. With its breathing tubes and four scopes it was heavy and made her look like the crazier kind of science fiction alien. “I didn’t see it, sir. But I know that area. It wasn’t hard to figure out where ISIS would place their antiaircraft guns.”

  “Who told you where you were flying?” Brigham barked, his neat mustache bristling. “You’re supposed to have gone in blind.”

  “So I did, sir. But I had the coordinates and I could see the night sky, sir. The constellations gave me the information. I’ve flown that section of desert in a dozen simulations and twice for real.” She shrugged. “I had a pretty good idea where the guns would be and when they would shoot. I made sure our bird wasn’t there, sir.”

  “Dammit, D’Angelo, why can’t you teach the others to do that?”

  Because they were not phoenixes blessed with a preternatural talent for mapping the sky and the land. There was virtually nowhere on the globe that she had not flown. And where she flew, she retained a map. “I have a photographic memory for landscapes, sir. Just something I was born with. The Air Force has honed it. But we can’t teach people to use what they haven’t got, sir.”

  She unzipped her G-suit and stepped out of it. This one was full of electronics that had tracked her breathing, heart rate and galvanic skin response. Two technicians appeared and saluted.

  “Yes?” barked Brigham.

  “We need blood and urine samples from Capt. D’Angelo,” murmured the braver of the two airmen.

  “Go ahead. Debriefing next, D’Angelo. Five minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Five minutes later she was ready. Brigham was hovering in the hallway. That was an unwelcome and unexpected honor.