Title: Air
Author: LB Gilbert
Series: Elementals #2
Genre: Fantasy, New Adult, Paranormal
Release Date: November 28, 2016
Summary:Despite being the junior Elemental, Logan’s never had to worry about failing a mission before. Not until an overgrown and annoyingly attractive shifter comes along.
Being an Elemental is in Logan’s blood. Hers is the gift of Air, a vast power she’s still struggling to control. Then a Were named Connell hunts her down. His wolf is missing, and he blames her.
A den of werewolves is the last place Logan wants to be. The testosterone alone is enough to make her choke. But she has a mystery to solve. She will find out who is stealing wolves even if kills her.
Unfortunately, that’s exactly what the enemy has planned…
—
Book 1: Fire
Book 2: Air, Available November 28th
Book 3: Water, Coming Soon
Connell watched the wind whip around the cabin as it knocked napkins off the table to the floor with considerable force. He felt like shit for teasing Logan now, but he hadn’t expected her discomfort to escalate into a full-blown panic attack.
Feeling helpless, he stood, his arms out in front of him, as the wind continued to circle in the small cabin. His concern for the sprite turned into worry for himself and the pilot. If Logan didn’t calm down, she was going to depressurize the cabin and possibly take down the jet.
The wind whipped past his head. Closing his eyes, he instinctively reached out. Not bothering to analyze the stupidity of his move, he grabbed at the gust of wind. Suddenly, Logan was there, in his arms.
He didn’t know which one of them was more surprised as he looked down at her. For a moment, they simply stared at each other—his eyes wide and her rosy lips an O of surprise.
“How did you—”
He cut her off by doing what he’d wanted to do from the first moment he’d seen her dancing at that club.
He kissed her. Hard.
His lips crashed down on hers, taking her mouth aggressively, possessing it with a growl that came from deep inside him. Logan was too disoriented to shove him away. Instead, she lay limp in his arms, her mouth soft and pliant under his.
Connell took advantage of his imp’s confusion to plunge his tongue into her mouth. The world narrowed down to that touch—his tongue stroking hers. She was like nothing he’d ever tasted, and he was two seconds from tearing their clothes off when she pushed him away. He didn’t make it easy; he didn’t want to let her go. But it soon became clear that he didn’t have a choice.
He landed on the leather couch with an oomph as most of the air in his lungs was expelled by the force. That much strength in such a little body was unnatural. It was like being moved by a forklift.
Logan was standing over him with a confused expression on her face. “Huh,” she said.
Connell sat up straight. “What does that mean?” he asked.
He wanted to grab her again, but the dent he just made in the couch was a good reminder not to do it again without permission. But later…she would beg for his touch. He’d make sure of it. In the meantime, he waited with uncharacteristic patience for her to answer.
“It means huh,” she replied, sitting on the sofa opposite the one he was in and cocking her head at him.
She was watching him as if he were a curious specimen of insect. Other than mild interest, there was no reaction to what had happened. And annoyingly, it also didn’t appear as if she wanted to do it again.
“Okay,” he rumbled as she reached up for the nearest bottle on the bar next to her. He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I think I need that drink after all,” she said, pouring a large measure of his favorite twenty-year-old scotch into a glass.
“Fine. Just don’t get drunk,” he muttered. “You don’t even look old enough to be drinking. I feel like I’m contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”
Logan snorted at that, but she didn’t respond. He took that as a silent confirmation that she was older than she looked.
Meanwhile, Logan downed scotch that was older than she was.
Feeling helpless, he stood, his arms out in front of him, as the wind continued to circle in the small cabin. His concern for the sprite turned into worry for himself and the pilot. If Logan didn’t calm down, she was going to depressurize the cabin and possibly take down the jet.
The wind whipped past his head. Closing his eyes, he instinctively reached out. Not bothering to analyze the stupidity of his move, he grabbed at the gust of wind. Suddenly, Logan was there, in his arms.
He didn’t know which one of them was more surprised as he looked down at her. For a moment, they simply stared at each other—his eyes wide and her rosy lips an O of surprise.
“How did you—”
He cut her off by doing what he’d wanted to do from the first moment he’d seen her dancing at that club.
He kissed her. Hard.
His lips crashed down on hers, taking her mouth aggressively, possessing it with a growl that came from deep inside him. Logan was too disoriented to shove him away. Instead, she lay limp in his arms, her mouth soft and pliant under his.
Connell took advantage of his imp’s confusion to plunge his tongue into her mouth. The world narrowed down to that touch—his tongue stroking hers. She was like nothing he’d ever tasted, and he was two seconds from tearing their clothes off when she pushed him away. He didn’t make it easy; he didn’t want to let her go. But it soon became clear that he didn’t have a choice.
He landed on the leather couch with an oomph as most of the air in his lungs was expelled by the force. That much strength in such a little body was unnatural. It was like being moved by a forklift.
Logan was standing over him with a confused expression on her face. “Huh,” she said.
Connell sat up straight. “What does that mean?” he asked.
He wanted to grab her again, but the dent he just made in the couch was a good reminder not to do it again without permission. But later…she would beg for his touch. He’d make sure of it. In the meantime, he waited with uncharacteristic patience for her to answer.
“It means huh,” she replied, sitting on the sofa opposite the one he was in and cocking her head at him.
She was watching him as if he were a curious specimen of insect. Other than mild interest, there was no reaction to what had happened. And annoyingly, it also didn’t appear as if she wanted to do it again.
“Okay,” he rumbled as she reached up for the nearest bottle on the bar next to her. He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I think I need that drink after all,” she said, pouring a large measure of his favorite twenty-year-old scotch into a glass.
“Fine. Just don’t get drunk,” he muttered. “You don’t even look old enough to be drinking. I feel like I’m contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”
Logan snorted at that, but she didn’t respond. He took that as a silent confirmation that she was older than she looked.
Meanwhile, Logan downed scotch that was older than she was.
universities in America, including a PhD that she is not using at all. She moved to France for work and found love. She's married now and living in Toulouse with one adorable half-french baby.
She has always enjoyed reading books as far from her reality as possible but eventually the voices in her head told her to write her own. And so far the voices are enjoying them. You can check out the geeky things she likes on twitter, facebook, or her website.
*If you like a little more steam with your Fire, check out the author's Lucy Leroux titles*
Air #2
Fire #1
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