I've done very little promo for my latest book, Lusting the Enemy. But I have been writing when I can to get the next book out there.
So...Here is an excerpt not found anywhere else.
Judas stepped into his private mandeolo quarters he’d ordered prepared. He barely noticed the hundreds of magnolia-scented candles glowing in the darkened room, where thick drapes had been pulled over the windows. Barely heard the discreet throb of a stringed jae and the accompanying beat of a pak pak from the room next door.
Music intended for seduction.
It was an unnecessary touch. He was already all too conscious of the fire burning hot in his loins, the aching heaviness of his balls. The damn rakkia robe that flowed from one shoulder and fell to mid-thigh did little to hide his arousal. His cinched belt, with the sheaved sword jostling on one hip and the double fighting rods on the other, served only to draw focus to his cock that had taken on a mind all of its own.
Damn. What had that chit done to him? Even the gold links on his forearms felt overly-tight, his entire body taut with need.
But then, he’d never expected to find a girl even halfway as beautiful as the silver-blonde siren staring up at him amongst the chattel in the holding yard—let alone one with her kind of surreal magnificence that bespoke of the shape
blood running through her veins.
The way she’d held his stare and challenged him had stirred something deep within even before she’d disrobed and bared her amazing body. And he’d known well before he’d forced his gaze to the other women that he wanted her and only her. Wanted to duel with her, tame the wildness within…well, just a little.
He’d had more than enough of subservient women.
His cock jerked. Christ. If he were truly honest it had become imperative that he fuck her, to fill her cunt with the full, hard length of his shaft as she begged him for release.
But as king he’d first had to take care of the trivial, mind-numbing matters that begat his lot in life, all of which had taken far too many hours. Hours in which his every thought had centered on the she-cat masquerading as a pure-blooded human, and who waited for him even now.
The royal lineage had access to records and knowledge few others did. Even without such information he knew exactly how the nearly extinct shifter—a larakyte—would look in human form. Hair and irises hued with silver, body tall, slender and graceful. Hell, even the way they carried themselves with an almost unworldly inherent grace and poise revealed their true ancestry.
She’d managed the almost impossible feat of hiding her true-self from the jealous, all-seeing eyes of the women in the holding yard. And with luck she would continue the façade—at least until he’d decided what was to be done with her.
Though she’d done a brilliant job so far of keeping her inner beast at bay, he couldn’t risk her staying for more than a night or two at most. She was young, inexperienced at the art of shielding. He had little choice but to escort her back to her people before anyone discovered her identity and hurt her…or worse.
His jaw tightened. She couldn’t stay, no matter how much he might wish otherwise. The vast majority of his people were hell bent on seeing all shifters dead. Worse were those in his ranks who pretended to be sympathizers, mortals who’d risk their own lives to kill a larakyte—any shifter—to free the world from a species who were a rung above humans.
He shook his head, shoulders growing tight with anger and frustration.