Welcome to the Realm
In
the beginning there were Vampire…
Man’s
fall from grace sparked the birth of the Dark creatures from the underworld. To
counter the explicit threat to mankind, divinely-created immortals were brought
forth. The Witch encompassed seven Castes of power; their magic was most
effective against the nefarious agenda pursued by the evil ones.
The war has raged since the beginning of human history. Ancients of Light is the series detailing the stories of the immortals that will fulfill an arcane prophecy and bring about the conclusion of the supernatural conflict.
The war has raged since the beginning of human history. Ancients of Light is the series detailing the stories of the immortals that will fulfill an arcane prophecy and bring about the conclusion of the supernatural conflict.
Books in the Ancients of Light series
Chosen
Forsaken
Broken
Mistaken
Release Date: June 20, 2014
In the beginning...there were Vampire
Man’s fall from grace
sparked the birth of the Dark creatures from the underworld. To counter the
explicit threat to mankind, divinely-created immortals were brought forth. The
Witch encompassed seven Castes of power; their magic was most effective against
the nefarious agenda pursued by the evil ones.
She is Chosen
Kaitriana’s gift of
magic is unrivaled. A descendant of the most powerful Ancient in existence, her
birth was foretold ages before her time. Destined to lead the Witch faction,
she is betrayed by her own kind, destroying her birthright and all hope of
delivering the Realm from the sinister shadow of the Ancient Dark.
He is the Key
Lorcan is a mighty
warlord in the Vampire species. His animosity towards the magical immortals is
personal - his mother was their Queen. Having long since severed all ties with
his former kin, his existence remains plagued by the repercussions of her
treachery and a secret that threatens to be his downfall.
They are the Prophecy
An arcane prophecy from
the time of the Ancients proclaims that only two in all of creation can bring
peace to the Realm. When Kaitriana miraculously appears seeking his protection,
Lorcan must forsake his duty and disregard the dictates of his breed to shelter
the female. Together they must combat the Ancient Dark and surmount the forces
within their own factions that would oppose the Prophecy. Their fates have
always been entwined and only when joined can they triumph over a blood feud
that has shadowed the Light for millennia.
Excerpt:
Though the scene was being witnessed by
hundreds of warriors, at this moment none existed but the two before the gates.
Lorcan’s tone was icy, “What know you of my mother?”
“Apparently more truth than you….Lorcan.” Her
inability to locate Myrrdyn had caused her to seek the Vampire warrior; she
instinctively trusted him and she needed his protection. Kaitriana had not
intended to insult him nor broach the subject of his Witch mother, but the
pain, fatigue and hunger plaguing her now made her testy. She was not in the
mood to argue vampires and the falseness of their beliefs.
Anger rising, apparently she knew her enemy by
name while he had no inkling of her origin or purpose, Lorcan still managed to
check himself and he stepped no closer in response to her taunt. She had kept
her head down, the curtain of her hair continued to hide her face from him. His
ears and all those within the yards of the keep were keen enough to hear her
sharp intake of breath, accompanied by an ever so slight moan of pain. The
girl’s hands extended shakily from the skirts of her gown, still tightened in a
claw-like grip as though in reaction to immense suffering. Her fingertips
scraped over the snow, raising dirt as she hunched slightly forward.
He witnessed it at the same time a faint trace
reached his senses; a smattering of blood was on the bodice of her gown, much
more of it smeared over her arms. Anger abated slightly for the moment with the
realization that the creature was suffering. Lorcan released his hand from the
sword and in direct opposition to his cautionary nature he squatted closer to
her level. He scooped up a handful of the powdery snowfall, patiently sifting
it through his fingers. He provided her a minute, attempting to allow her to
regain some composure before he pressed, “You are injured?”
Her head remained lowered and Kaitriana eased
back as the wave of pain slowly subsided. She refolded her hands demurely in
her lap and followed with a short, rueful laugh. “I have been tending my
injuries for nearly half a millennium, Milord. At this moment I am in pain,
yes… but this blood is not mine, nor have I been injured during all the
bloodletting that has left me in such a state.”
Lorcan was appreciative of the response she
gave though her words were a bit odd. ‘Milord’…her language was dated. Damn, if
the creature would just push those curls back so that he could see her eyes and
ascertain her intentions. Lorcan did not lie to himself; he was curious and
cared to see if she was as pretty as he was imagining. How he could feel such
intrigue towards a supposed threat he could not gather, but there was something
about her that pulled at him on an instinctive level.
He could not garner a clear scent of her
either, which perplexed him further. She did not reek of any of the Witch Castes.
Her scent might be masked somewhat by the blood that marred her skin and gown,
but to be undetectable to one with his senses was odd indeed. In order to be
responsible for the death of the magnitude described by Jortha, the little
thing must be Ancient and of one of the stronger Castes.
Those delicate shoulders raised, just enough
to send snow cascading from them as he watched, “I am not an Ancient…nor nearly
so old as you...”
Lorcan stiffened; was she probing his
thoughts?
As if to confirm, Kaitriana slowly lifted her
head, raising her face to his view. The effort cost her. The splitting in her
head amplified immensely with the slight movement and her body felt as though
it were being torn apart on the inside. Her nails began shredding the fabric of
her skirts in earnest again as she attempted to control of the shrieks of agony
that wanted to escape her.
Lorcan took in the pain etched in her face,
the tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and the pallor of her skin. He
understood immediately her issue, noting the tips of tiny white fangs and the
marks they had had left on the bottom of her lower lip. Those observations
registered with him simultaneously through the impact of a shock that nearly
knocked him back physically. Lorcan’s gaze locked on her. Those eyes swimming
behind the pools of tears appeared as shards of ice. There was no sparkle
within them at this very moment but those eyes had haunted him for centuries.
He knew them well and only one in the Realm had ever possessed that amazing look.
Lorcan’s entire body weakened in a rush,
requiring all his brute strength to keep himself steadfast. The air expelled
rapidly from his lungs as he began counting; Lorcan realized he was crazed even
as he did it. Eighteen…eighteen little freckles smattered across the beauty’s
face. The creature at his feet was the very image of the beautiful witch that
had been burned to memory nearly five hundred years before when she had fled at
the Festival of the Moon. Kaitriana. Did he whisper it aloud?
Maybe he did, he thought a smile was taking
her lips before she gasped in pain again. The fang on the right side pierced
her lower lip as she arched back in agony. There was a rumbling among the men
behind him. They were aware too that she was near the end of transitioning. The
pain of the process that changed one into the Vampire form could cause a strong
warrior to beg for death. Blood traced from the corner of her mouth and this
time he could scent her. Lorcan reacted, his fangs extending sharply.
He closed the distance between them in less
than a blink. The streaks of light in the sky were nearly unceasing now and
Lorcan thought it may be connected somehow to the pain she suffered. Heedless
of the female’s current state, he knelt down in front of her; his hands tightened
around her arms and he gave her body a hard shake. He was uncaring when she
responded with a tortured cry. Lorcan was greatly tormented now too, the brief
feeling of relief and hope that had risen in him had been extinguished just as
quickly. The despair he had felt earlier this night increased tenfold as he
gazed down at the being.
Lorcan dragged her writhing form flush against
the metal plating on his chest, demanding through gritted teeth, “What
treachery is this? The witch is dead!” His mind was not making sense of her
appearance and fury ensued. Lorcan shook her again, harder, before tossing her
bodily ten feet from him to the snowy ground. A bolt of sizzling light flew
from the sky and pierced the ground but a few feet from him, accompanying her shriek
of pain. He was oblivious to the threat but his men began to shift uneasily as
Lorcan ground out “Answer me!”
She moved not from where she landed but only
drew her knees towards her chest. Kaitriana was panting through the pain, tears
freely flowing down her cheeks. She lifted those watery eyes to him, hearing
the crunch of his boots over snow as he approached, and extended a trembling
hand in his direction.
Was she attempting to ward him off or reach
for him? Having seen enough transitions to know that she was in the final
stages, he also knew that in such state, no matter how powerful, she would be
in no condition to fight him. He crouched on a single knee next to her, using
her extended hand to jerk her roughly to him. Supporting her torso on that bended
knee, he encased her upper body in the steel bands of his arms. Lorcan’s fangs
extended further, his eyes blackening with his rage. He leaned to put his face
in hers, his voice deadly cold, “Tell me, you deceitful bitch, why I do not
tear your throat wide and end you now?”
Her lids lowered slowly, she thought the pain
must have made her daft. The blackness of his eyes, induced by his Vampiric
traits when his emotions were heightened, was ringed in vivid blue. She
experienced a rush of cool breath from his mouth as his fangs touched the vein
of her neck in warning. She would not give him the pleasure of witnessing her
fear, just as she had not with those evil vampires of the Dark that fateful
night long ago. In the throes of her misery she was too beleaguered by it to
spend energy imagining her death at his hands. Death would be a welcome escape
from the relentless agony that had arrived so suddenly. Overwhelmed by it, she
had possessed barely the strength to take leave of the last of Rhydach’s manors
that she had destroyed.
In her quest for the death of a killer she had
destroyed any and all of Rhydach’s possessions and people that stood in her
way. She had found the other bastard responsible for her parents’ murder and
had exalted in his torment and the horror of his allies before she had ended
them all. The pain that had come upon her immediately afterwards was crippling;
although she had called desperately for Myrrdyn, he had not come to her rescue.
Her memories had pushed her here and God had answered her prayers. Lorcan was
in residence this night.
Another series of knifing pains shot through
her entire being and the moan of misery escaped despite her best efforts. In
response she rolled her body tighter against Lorcan, as if seeking comfort in
the fold of his arms, rather than away from the threat he currently presented.
Buried under that pain, in the recesses of her mind, she still had a tenuous
grip on the deep-rooted belief that he would protect her. Her action exposed
the slim column of her neck to him only more fully.
He found it odd that she offered no defense.
Was there no fight in her? To him her silence was an admission of guilt,
treachery. Lorcan tucked her up higher against him as he readied her neck for
his bite; he wanted her tormented and he wanted her fear. Her blood stained
hands splayed across his chest, but she did not push, she did not resist. Damn
it, he wanted her to fight and he wanted to relish in the victory of her death.
Lorcan grazed his lips over her ear and paused there to whisper as she
shivered, “I will have you begging for my mercy.”
His mouth slipped downward and his fangs found
the top of her throat, under the jaw line. He pressed only hard enough to drag
sharp tips roughly down the entire length, leaving two thin trails of blood
glistening against her pale skin. This evil would cower to him. By all that was
Ancient, the creature would be begging for the end when he decided to deliver
it.
The Prophecy Will Be Fulfilled
Ancients were created in
the beginning of the age of man. The Vampire were birthed by the underworld
after mankind’s fall from grace to destroy what remained of God’s people. This
threat to Creation was countered with divinely-breathed immortals. The Witch
were most effective against the nefarious agenda pursued by the evil ones. An
arcane Prophecy proclaims that the divine purpose of the Ancients of Light will
be fulfilled, beginning with the rise of the Chosen. Now the Queens will join
her…
Fire is
her Destiny
Ella
long ago determined she would not live a life where magic defined her. Feeling
no kinship with her Caste, she walked away from the Realm and its conflicts.
She found acceptance and fulfillment in her life amongst the mortals and is on
the brink of achieving her dreams.
Darkness
is His Curse
Nicholas
is the most revered warrior in the Darks’ army. His personal animosity towards
the Light drives his existence and draws him to the one Witch he is set on
controlling. Nicholas knows the reasons that Ella never found acceptance within
the Fire Caste of Witch and he will use that knowledge to pursue his Dark
agenda.
When Light
and Dark Collide
Despite
her origins, Nicholas discovers more in Ella than just a powerful Fire Witch,
leading him beyond the Dark evil that has plagued him for eight centuries. Ella
disregards the inherent calling of her breed for the only true belonging she
has ever experienced, the love she finds with her Dark Vampire. The beginning
of the very Prophecy that will save the Light tears the pair apart and the
fallout threatens their existence. When two of the most powerful immortals on
opposite sides of Realm collide in divinely-inspired fate, neither will escape
unscathed. Only when the Forsaken finds grace will Ella and Nicholas be able to
fulfill the destiny that has always been meant for them.
Excerpt 1
He was certainly sin, wrapped in chocolate
with a sprinkle of naughty. Visions of him would keep her happy in fantasy land
for months. Ella felt a stabbing tingle of power again and dismissively tamped
it down. Lifting her gaze to find his riveted on her, it became important to
her only just then that he had robbed her of her wine. To interfere with a
witch and her consumption of brew was a no-no indeed. Her brow creased in mild
vexation, “Are you attempting to cut me off?
Because I am a big girl and I can handle…”
His finger found her lips, cutting off her
rant before she could work herself into a lather over the stolen drink. Leaning
in close enough that his breath caressed her cheek, he confirmed that the
attraction was not one-sided, “I am merely making certain that later, when I
taste your lips, they will not be tainted with that plonk.”
Ella swore he shuddered with the
characterization of her aforementioned drink before turning and nodding his
thanks to the tender for the bottle of wine and glasses deposited on the bar.
He swung that piercing gaze back to lock meaningfully on hers and murmured in
the same smooth tone, “Your head needs to be clear enough to focus only on me
when I kiss you the first time, Witch.”
His words - both his claim to her attentions
later and the call to her immortal nature - had the desired effect. A sharp
intake of breath and quickening pulse accompanied the rapid rise of color to
her cheeks. Her eyes flared wide before narrowing with animosity. An unnatural
spark of green swirled in their depths, evidence of a rise in magic, and this
time Ella let it go unfettered.
Her intoxication had been enough to muddle her
instincts and cause her to dismiss the warnings her magic had been screeching
at her. Now that she had been clued in, it was easy for her to gain a sense of
his nature as well…Vampire. Her lips curled in distaste, only to be answered by
his smirk as he ignored her obvious ire to attend to their glasses. His
unconcerned manner made her furious. He knew her to be of the Witch breed so he
should be fleeing in the opposite direction, not pouring her a beverage…the
arrogant bloodsucker.
Excerpt 2
His voice was firm because he knew she would
balk at sympathy, “The band needs to come off so that you will heal, Witch. I
require your vow that you will not raise your magic against me.”
She dropped her lids, once more shutting him
out, “I would rather die that vow anything to you.”
He drew her up in his arms and he had to steel
himself against releasing her when she started to tremble. Nicholas knew she
was in tremendous pain from the injury, but he needed her upright to drink the
potion. Pressing the glass containing the mixture of blood and medicine to her
tightly compressed lips, his tone reflected a harshness he did not actually
feel, “You will drink this Ella, or I will knock you unconscious and pour it
down your throat. The effect will be the same.”
Her frown furrowed her brow and her eyes
remained closed, but she did part her lips. The mixture contained blood as well
as what tasted of various herbals. While it rankled her to know that he was
most likely feeding her the liquid from his own vein, she was parched and
decided not to resist for that reason. She also had little doubt that he would
do anything that was necessary to get the mixture into her, as he had promised.
Ella remained still while he fed her the contents of the cup, and wished she
had to strength to pummel him when he tormented her at the end, “So
cooperative, good girl.”
Quickly reassessing her condition, Nicholas
knew that he was not going to have her conscious for much longer, so he held
her tight to him, “Your vow, Princess, no magic.” Her lips were pressed firmly
together once more and she stared at him defiantly through barely slit lids. He
flashed a bit of fang at her, his eyes flickering, “If I have to I will join
you in this bed and have that delightful body of yours so consumed with
pleasure that you will vow me anything…everything.”
He added the last word meaningfully and he saw panic shift across her features.
Even though he knew she’d pass out long before he could accomplish it, he
trusted that she was addled enough by the fever not to realize the foolishness
of his boast.
That panic he witnessed meant that she thought
he was capable of doing it though. It buoyed his spirits and that was reflected
somewhat by his softened tone, “Vow to me, Ella, that you will not raise your
magic against me again. I need you to live.” She answered with a stiff nod. He
could see the loathing in her eyes at being trapped into giving in to him. He
leaned down so that his lips brushed hers when he spoke, “The words Ella…I want
the words.”
Shifting to move her mouth away from his, her
eyes were brimming with tears once again, but were icy. She managed enough
strength to say plainly, “I give you my vow not to use my magic against you…”
Ella waited until she heard the clasp release and felt the heavy metal lifted
from her arm before she finished, “You vile, repulsive, bloodsucking parasitic
worm.”
Nicholas laughed heartily at that, “Shhh….you
foul mouthed little vixen.” He felt her stiffen when he slid down to the bed
and locked her against his chest, “You need to rest now; you can insult me when
you are better.”
The Light’s
Duty to Protect
A war over the fate of mankind
sparked the creation of the Ancients - Light and Dark - one divinely-created guardians,
the other hell-spawned killers. The conflict raged within the Realm for
millennia, neither faction triumphant in its purpose. In recent history the
Darks have adopted a more surreptitious path - the boom of technology allowing the
Dark One to insinuate himself into the midst of those he would most like to
destroy. Tragic consequences result when the Ancients of Light pursue the
Darkness into the Outer Realm. The Prophecy continues…
Darkness
Claimed Her Soul
The adversity of Kylie’s youth
forged an indomitable spirit. A vibrant and strong woman determined to plot the
course of her life with room for nothing beyond the next measure of success,
Kylie believed in only herself, and most certainly neither destiny nor love. All
those tenants were derailed with a single encounter, but the same man that
tempted her to live again drew her into the middle of an aged war, the
consequence being her own destruction, plummeting her into a hellish existence.
A Warrior
Haunted by His Failure
Sayer’s mission was only to foil
the latest plan of the Darks in the Outer Realm and return a few Vampire to Hell.
Finding a perfect mortal that tempted him beyond all reason was an unforeseen
complication. Just when Sayer realizes that his eternity is meant for one
alone, Kylie is destroyed and the loss drives him to the pits of despair,
revealing events of the past that would best remain buried.
Tragedy will
Reveal Those of Divine Purpose
Sayer’s appearance in her life was
the catalyst to fulfilling a destiny that existed since Kylie’s creation. Their
fate thwarted by Darkness, both shattered by tragedy, Kylie and Sayer must
return to the love that once was while finding absolution or perish apart. Only
once all that was broken is returned to unblemished will God’s own Warriors
rise. The beginning of the beginning…
Excerpt 1:
When the man persisted in silence, Kylie gave
a none too subtle yank to retrieve her hand. Arrogant ass. Negotiations, as far
as she was concerned, were done.
In response to her attempted extraction, Sayer
stepped closer, wanting to prick the fiery temper he could sense lurking
beneath her icy façade. His thumb traced over her hand when he gave her his
name, “I’m Sayer, and I know exactly
where I want to be, Miss Jadewell.”
It was the way he said it, coupled with the
drag of his thumb in intimate suggestion over the back of her hand, that
flustered her. How anyone could make that
answer into a steamy innuendo was beyond her, but his delivery was grandly
sexual. Her mind plummeted to wicked depths briefly and his eyes told her that
he knew it. Rather than encourage him, Kylie promptly renewed her efforts to
pull free; she intended to be neither his amusement nor his late night quickie.
He thought he was in control here, and it was
time to dissuade him of that ridiculous notion. Kylie nodded to him - not in
answer – but in farewell, “Wanting
and getting are two entirely separate
things, Mr. Sayer.” She barely controlled her smirk when his eyes widened in
disbelief. Taking advantage of his shock, she smoothly pulled her hand loose.
Kylie retreated and pivoted towards the bank of elevators, not bothering to
look when she called back, “I bid you good evening.”
Sayer glanced away from the enticing sway of
her hips to catch an amused grin from Fred before the night guard nodded to him
in a silent show of support. His guess was that he was not the first male to
have been summarily put in his place by the beauty. The predatory nature of his
breed made him love both a challenge and a chase and he was beyond eager to
capture this one. Ms. Jadewell had him crazed with lust and irritated all at
once.
In this instance, Sayer chaffed under the
constraints of human rules of law and behavior, and was tempted to drag her
back to the dungeons in the Realm just so he could have her under his control,
in his space and on his terms. Her dismissive nature fired Vampiric instincts
in him, the need to dominate and control. He would settle instead for a little
revenge. Ms. Jadewell had never faced an opponent as stubborn as an ancient
Vampire, and he was all too willing to knock her confidence down a good few
notches. Little Ms. Superiority would not have the last word.
Just before she reached the open elevator Fred
looked back down at his newspaper providing Sayer the opportunity he needed to
close in.
Excerpt 2:
She tore into his throat,
reveling in the violence of it as much as the taste of Witch, while a
thunderous banging began on the other side of the barred door. The magic that
kept her within was also most effective at keeping the others out, Kylie had
gambled on that. The Vampire could not shadow inside to reach her and neither
they nor the Witch could break the magic barrier coupled with the strength of
her own Vampire abilities holding the door. Cade could undo the spells, but it
would take him any number of minutes and by then she would drain the Warrior
Caste leader.
Giggling, she tore another
gaping wound into his flesh and purred while she lapped up the blood, his
struggles already weakening, “Mmmm….you taste as sweet as you look, Kendrick,
like cotton candy and sugar cookies .” She took another bite just as the door
exploded inward. The force rocketed Broderick across the room with the remnants
of the door, a large thud echoing when he collided with the far wall. He had
not regained his feet when Lorcan and Sayer rushed in.
Kylie calmly withdrew her bite
and eyed them. Kendrick was too weak to resist her, and satisfaction gleamed in
her eyes, “If you come near me, I will tear his throat so wide there will be no
hope that you can heal him.”
Her eyes sparkled with evil
when she locked on Sayer, “I waited for you, honey, just like Cade suggested. I
even saved you some – to share.” She extended a hand, as though offering him a
taste. The thick blood that ran from Kendrick’s throat coated both her hands
where she had them knotted in the front of his tunic. No small amount of the
same was smeared over her cheeks and mouth. Kylie knew she looked monstrous and
she delighted in Sayer’s horror.
She was eyeing Kendrick’s
throat like a starved lion, and Sayer attempted to talk her down, “Kylie, give
Kendrick to Lorcan and I will take you home.”
It only irritated her, souring
her expression, “You should address me as Callie because Kylie is unlikely to
listen to you.”
Sayer’s jaw clenched tight and
his reaction made her want to dig deeper at his pain points, “Do you know why
my eyes are always veiled in black, love?” She chuckled and made an exaggerated
lick at Kendrick’s throat to give Sayer time to hazard a guess. When he didn’t,
she went on nastily, “It is because your little Kylie harbors so much hatred
for you….thin line betwixt love and hate and all that. Why do you think it was
so easy for me to slip here and take over?
Kylie is strong, so for me to gain foothold, she had to surrender. The
girl would rather be dead than be here, with you, in the Realm.”
Lorcan growled, but Sayer
paled, her suggestion of Kylie’s hate for him impaled him as effectively as any
weapon she might wield. Kylie leaned in once more to lick a rivulet of blood
from her wrist before looking back at him, “As if Blackmore’s torture wasn’t
enough…then the poor girl went through the transition, all by herself, in a
cold, dark dungeon. They let her starve for three days with bloodlust, before
Turloch decided to make her into his own little Frankenstein. Do you think
getting all this Darkness into her soul was painless?”
Sayer visibly recoiled,
prompting her cackling laugh, “It hurt like hell, but her mind never snapped, Sayer.
You know as well as I that Kylie was too strong to break, but unbridled hatred
will allow Dark magic to take hold very, very easily.”
Running her free hand through
Kendrick’s hair, she tightened her fist in the sandy strands of blond. With her
hold she jerked his head to and fro looking for the next best place to bite.
Continuing to examine his neck, all the while she kept Lorcan and Broderick in
her periphery, “You knew she was terrified to let anyone into her heart, but
you convinced her she was safe with you. The very next night you abandoned her,
and all her faith and trust in you was demolished during those weeks of torture
when you never tried to save her.”
The blood began dripping to the
floor, and she watched the wasted drops of crimson spatter beautifully,
finishing, “You shattered her already broken heart. Bits and pieces,
Sayer….that is Dark, very Dark. Are you playing for the right team?”
There was not nearly so much
strength in Sayer’s command this time, but he latched on to one thing that
Kaitriana had explained to them earlier, “Kylie, put Kendrick down. The magic
has made you think you are Callie, but she is not here. You are here with me.”
Kylie sneered, “If you would like to
jot that down, I will be certain to pass that message on to her too, the next
time your wee little human decides to pop in.”
Enemies by circumstance of Creation
Sworn to their purpose, the Vampire and the Witch
were created to battle over the fate of mankind.
He was the First
Until one Vampire sought a Higher Purpose.
She was the Beginning
And one Witch’s faith brought Darkness into the
Light.
Their love would turn the course of the Ancient War…
Before the Prophecy, an Ancient Queen and the
Vampire she loved
would forge the path for those that would follow.
June 20, 2014
Excerpt
Tristan
liked that she was not composed enough to hide that second responsive sunburst
of magic in her eyes… or her shiver. He believed fear was masking the true
cause of her trembling… feeling certain that her body’s desire for him rivaled
his for her. He confessed his thoughts, wondering if she would scream in
terror, “I imagined my mouth on your skin and it nearly drove me mad each
night… I want to learn your taste, experience your blood spilling over my
tongue.”
She
stayed still, but her heart skipped two beats – he heard it quite easily – and
her breathing stopped. Alia was putting on quite the show of bravery, making it
harder to keep that smile from appearing.
Intensely satisfied that he had her under his control - even if it was
only for these few minutes - it eased his raging instincts. Tristan shifted
position so that he could whisper against her ear, unable to resist grazing his
lips over that sensitive skin, “Does that scare you, Alia?”
Alia
knew it was reasonable to be terrified. One of the darkest of warriors within
the ranks of her enemy had abducted her, was holding her in an unknown place,
and that gleam in his eyes told her he was most likely planning to do just as
he had mentioned with those teeth. Drawing a deep breath, it was only when she
stared into the abyss of onyx that blanketed his eyes that her senses began to
tune into everything else that surrounded them. Alia recognized a sound, and
almost simultaneous to it felt an internal pull. Her gaze darted to the opening
at the entrance of the cave, disbelieving.
During
her hurried inspection before, she had been mistaken in thinking the weather
outside their location was merely overcast. What she had believed to be a haze
beyond the entrance of the cave was not; Alia realized now from the sound that
they were behind a waterfall. Her eyes widened and then narrowed with her
frown, perplexed when they returned to his. It was obvious that he had been
waiting for her to come to the realization of the very thing he had known all
along… there was no reason for her to fear him… not here.
While
her power with the additional elements - the water and the lightning - was a
new facet of Nature magic, her captor’s smug expression told that he knew
exactly the line of her thoughts. The wilder the force of nature, the more her
magic was able to feed and yet Tristan brought her to the raging rush of a
waterfall. This location was no accidental choice… he had surmised that she
would be stronger here as well… much stronger than she had been in the forest.
Intelligent
Vampire… Skatosita … she did not want to like him, but Tristan was making
it rather impossible to relegate him to the pile of degenerate monsters that
was his breed. With this leader of the Vampire, she was witness to his
intelligence yet again and glimpsed a side that suggested much more was beneath
the surface. He had intentionally brought her to a place where she would not
feel powerless with him, but there was accusation in her question, nonetheless,
“How did you know?”
Tristan
refused to believe she was as upset with him as her tone implied, but he was
not going to pretend to be something he was not for the sake of charming her.
Between them there would be no skirting what either of them was or the past
that was between their breeds, “I have told you before that we know much of the
Witch. Even were your breed not so loose with their lips, given the right
incentive, your Caste will reveal its secrets as willingly as all the others.”
It sunk
into her slowly what he meant by “incentive,” and she whispered, aghast that he
would even broach the subject in her presence and then have the audacity to
gloss over it, “Torture.” It was not
a question and he did not need to answer, but Tristan gave her a curt nod to
make certain she had no room to form fanciful notions about his character.
Alia did
not move, but her eyes stabbed him, “I would imagine, as a General in the
Darks, that you are particularly adept at such practices.”
She was
acting as though his breed held the license on torture with her pious little
snit. With an accompanying eye roll, Tristan released her to cross his arms
over his chest, answering drolly, “No more so than your leaders, Alia.”
© 2014 Heather Fleener
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About the Ancients of Light series
Chosen is the first in the
thirteen books of the Ancients of Light series and is only the beginning of a
young Witch’s journey toward developing both the strength of character and
magic that will be required to fulfill her prophesied role as leader of the Light
faction.
Revelations of nuances in
the Prophecy - facets that were never fully comprehended by the Ancients - will
continue in successive stories. The culmination of its true meaning in the
destiny of the supernatural world of the Realm will only be revealed when
Kaitriana is adequately prepared to lead the Warriors now being called together
to champion the Light’s purpose.
Familiar characters return
for each storyline as the focus turns to a new key couple in every book - a
pair that significantly factors into the purpose of Light – however, the story
of the Chosen does not end with Book #1.
Kaitriana and Lorcan, their growth together as partners in leadership
and in love as a couple, will thread through the series as Kaitriana assumes
the role that was destined as hers since the beginning.
About the
Author
Heather Fleener lives in Indiana with her husband, D.A. and
their twins, Thomas and Alexandra. Professionally she has spent her career
working in the area of Intellectual Property law.
Reading has been a passion of hers since she was young and
she has adored romance novels her entire life. The romantic styles of Judith
McNaught and Julie Garwood are her inspiration, though she has read and loved
the stories of countless other authors. Her fascination with the paranormal
began to form at the young age of six, watching late-night ghost and vampire
movies with her Grandpa. Unfortunately, as a result, she also remains afraid of
the dark to this day.
Combining her love of epic romances and the supernatural was
a natural progression for her overactive imagination. When the idea for the
Ancients of Light series began, it was an abstract story line rambling around
in her head to help kill a few miles on the treadmill. As the stories and
plotlines continued to grow, it finally became necessary to put the words to
paper and build the characters that had been living in the Realm and having
conversations in her head for months.
The series is a testament to many miles on the treadmill and
lots of characters that insist on having their stories told.
Social Media Links
Amazon: Amazon - Heather
Fleener
iTunes: iTunes
- Heather Fleener
Google+: +HeatherFleener
Chosen Book 1 - Named
one of the top 50 Self published
Books of 2013/2014 at
Indie Author Land Placed #30
Ancients Of Light Series Kaitriana- Named In the Top 5
Young Heroines Placed #1
at Indie Author
Land Link: https://madmimi.com/p/3853e4?fe=1&pact=22963093035
2 Comments
Thanks !!! Love it!!! <3
ReplyDeleteAwesome spotlight! Amazing series!! :)
ReplyDelete