Angel Maker by Natasha Deen

Title: Angel Maker
Series: True Grime, #2
Author: Natasha Deen
Genre: Urban-Fantasy, YA,
Publisher: Blueberry Hill Press
Paperback/Ebook
Pages: 302

Purchase: Smashwords | Createspace | Amazon (Print) | Amazon (Kindle) | B&N |

For the last two years, human Aponi Runningbear has been training to be part of Grime, the magical police division tasked with protecting humanity from SOAP terrorists. But things aren't going well. She's barely keeping up with her studies, failing the physical component, and her Generalized Anxiety Disorder is making her bad days even worse. When her team is given the chance to find a missing coworker and stop SOAP from producing a DNA-altering drug that's killing humans, Aponi grabs hold of the chance to show she's meant for Grime. But as the investigation heats up, she's forced to deal with the tormentor from her past, dead bodies, and the certainty that SOAP's going to win this battle. Humanity's dying, Grime's in trouble, and she's failing...does a foster kid really have what it takes to save the world and herself?

Excerpt:

Echo’s technology deflected the damage of the shot but it didn’t compensate for the power. The laser’s momentum rocketed me off my feet. I exploded into the air, my arms and legs pedaled helplessly. Spinning, twisting, the world whirled around me in a blur of colors and texture.
Gravity yanked me down.
Too late, I saw my destination: the cylindrical tank attached to a rig. I smashed into the hard metal. The force made my head snap back hard enough to break my spine, if not for the shield. My teeth chomped into my cheek. A disembodied chunk of the tissue rolled on to my tongue, bathed in my blood. I spit it out and fell twelve feet to the ground.
The fall left me stunned, seeing double. Two TJ’s, smiling with evil intent, came my way. I pulled out my gun, aimed, and fired. The shot went between them.
TJ laughed.
I closed one eye, and pulled the trigger.
He did the same and his laser beam devoured my shot with ease. “You’re too slow, Grime.” He twirled his gun. “Kill you or use you for information?” His lips pulled back from his teeth. “You have no usable intel, but it would be fun to torture you, all the same.”
I spit out the blood pooling in my mouth. God. Nothing pisses me off like an adversary who doesn’t think I have what it takes to beat them. First the aswang. Now him. I pulled the trigger, aiming for one of his hearts.

About the Author:

When I was little, there was only one thing I wanted to be: a superhero. Then I realized that being a klutz was not, in fact, a super power, and my super weakness for anything bright and shiny meant a magpie with self-control could easily defeat me in a battle of wills.

What was a superhero in training to do?

I turned to writing young adult, urban fantasy, and romance as a way to sharpen my mental super-hero skills, and as a way to bide my time until I can hone my klutzy nature into a superpower. I don’t get to orbit the earth in a space station (and thank God, because I get sick on merry go round), but I do get to say things like: “Stand aside! This is a job for Writing Girl!!”

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