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Night Angel by Lisa Kessler
The Night series Book 2.5

Sometimes the only way to heal is to love...

When Colin Flynn returns home to Ireland, the immortal Night Walker is not the protector he had once been. Although his flesh has healed, the scars hide a broken spirit.

Juliana Duffy is a survivor. She owns a florist shop and continues to play piano in spite of her deafness. Her prophetic dreams warn her of coming death and show her the faces of two men: one a customer and one a handsome stranger.

After hearing her music, Colin finds himself drawn to this woman who refuses to be defined by her injury. As an ancient enemy emerges and threatens her safety, Colin will need to learn Juliana's secret to overcome his wounds, and regain his strength.

But falling for a mortal could be the greatest risk of all...

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Content/Theme(s): Vampires, Shape shifters
Release Date: March 17, 2014

Excerpt & More

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Excerpt:
Rich piano chords bled into one another, the sound swelling like angry waves crashing against the cliffs. The music drew him closer to the door. Colin frowned. Classical piano pieces weren’t typical live pub music, but he’d never been inside the Bridled Pony before, either.

He reached for the weathered wooden handle on the door and pulled it open, drenching himself in the music as it embraced him. His gaze shot to the piano. A woman sat on the bench, and the bar’s dim lighting didn’t dull the shine on her long dark auburn hair. Or her obvious passion.

He took a step inside, the door closing behind him, and he nodded to the bartender. He shifted his attention back to the pianist. She played the old upright in her bare feet, her shoes sitting neatly on the floor beside the bench. Interesting. He took a seat at a small table to the side of the piano. The woman’s profile revealed warm features, full lips, round cheeks, and a determined countenance. Her fingers caressed the keys, making the worn instrument sing.

He lost himself in the tune, his new shortcomings forgotten.

When she reached the final cadence, her fingers remained on the keys, her foot sustaining the sound with the pedal until it faded into silence.

Colin applauded, but she never moved. Not even a flinch.

The blonde behind the bar called over to him. “She can’t hear ya. But I’ll let her know she has a new fan.” The bartender headed his way. “What can I get for ya?”

He forced himself to stop staring at the fiery-haired angel and glanced up at the blonde. “She can’t hear me, but she plays the piano?”

She tipped her head toward the woman at the keyboard. “That’s my cousin, Juliana. She was a piano prodigy before her accident. She can’t hear anymore, but she still loves to play, says she can feel the vibrations.”

His ancient heart skipped a beat. He furrowed his brow, processing the information. “She’s deaf?”

The blonde nodded, her thick, bobbing curls punctuating her answer. “I’m Muriel. Can I get ya somethin’?”

“Pint of Guinness, please.”

“You got it.” She gave him a wide smile and went back to the bar, only straying to tap Juliana’s shoulder and point toward him.

When Juliana turned, her dark eyes met his, and he reveled in the mystery wrapped up in the mortal woman before him. What compelled her to play music when she was denied the ability to hear it. Wouldn’t the playing pain her, reminding her of her disability?

Questions filled his head, but he cautioned himself not to tap into her mind. As a Night Walker, the thoughts of mortals around him could be overwhelmingly loud, but Colin had shields, only reaching for people’s thoughts when it suited him. This woman had made him forget his injury, for a brief moment there was only the passion in her music. He longed to understand how she moved past her injury, but peering into her mind for answers would steal the pleasure of discovery, of getting to know her. So few people surprised him anymore. He wanted to savor it.

But how would he discover his answers if she couldn’t hear his voice and he didn’t read her thoughts?

It didn’t matter anyway. He should be locating Benedict and reminding the slick monster of the boundaries of his territory, not swooning over some girl in a pub. The aughisky could feed elsewhere. This county was under Colin’s protection. He rubbed his right hand down the deep divot in his left arm where his bicep had been.

How much was his protection worth now?

He looked up to see Juliana slip her feet into her shoes and smile in his direction. His lips parted in a crooked grin he’d forgotten he had. Color flushed her cheeks as she nodded toward him and walked to the bar.

He ached to go to her. Curiosity was a rare sensation for a being as old as he, but he stayed in his chair. He had nothing to offer and no time to keep hiding in this pub. One drink to clear his head and then he would hunt.

Muriel brought over his Guinness, and he lifted it to his lips. Most of his kind couldn’t tolerate drinking anything other than blood, but he’d lived on the island so long that he’d built up a tolerance and a love for a good, dark Guinness. He wouldn’t be able to drink all of it, but he could enjoy a few sips.

Muriel wiped the bar and called over. “Where’re you from?”

The jungles of the Yucatan. “The other side of Belvoir Forest. I own the Sea Haven Farm.”

She glanced up from her work. “That’s the place Bartley tends, right?” She grinned. “How come he’s never brought ya here before?”

Because I don’t eat pub grub. “I travel a lot on business.”

“Didn’t mean t’ pin ya down for an excuse.” She raised a brow. “I know I’m not the fanciest place in town.”

“I just don’t get out much.” He almost smiled. “Really.”

He noticed Juliana watching him. She peered over at him from beneath her auburn mane and gestured to the stool beside her.

How could he resist? He’d only stay a few minutes.

Colin picked up his Guinness and approached the bar. “Is this seat taken?”

She watched his lips and then shook her head.

He pulled out the stool and sat down. “You play beautifully.”

Juliana withdrew a pad and pen from the pocket of her coat. Thank you… I don’t know your name.

“May I?” He pointed to her pen.

She handed it to him, a playful spark lighting her dark eyes.

Colin. He returned her pen. “You’re Juliana?”

She nodded and offered her hand. He shook it, the warmth of her skin teasing his hunger, his thirst for blood surging. Her smile faded, and she released him to take up her pen.

You’re freezing. Muriel makes a great hot toddy.

He shook his head and pointed to his glass. “Just holding my cold Guinness too tight.”

Her expressive features gave her recognition of his words away, and he tried to imagine the sound of her voice.

Muriel came back over. “Want me to leave a tab open?”

“Nah.” He laid a bill on the bar. “I can’t stay.”

She took the money, shaking her head. “More to life than work, ya know.”

“Maybe so.” His gaze remained fixed on Juliana’s. “But there’s no rest for the wicked.”

She picked up her pen. You don’t look wicked to me.

He took a swig of the stout and winked. “Looks can be deceiving.”
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