I did it again – signed up for two hops at the same time. Sigh. So for the next two days, I’ll be doing the A to Z Challenge and MFRW’s Erotic Romance Hop – Let’s Get Lucky!
Vengeance Hammer, the last book of my new Viking trilogy releases on May 3 and I thought I’d unveil the cover and give you a little teaser for The MFRW’s Let’s Get Lucky Erotic Blog hop.
Xára could scarce draw a breath.
The man walking alongside her held her fate, Jennie’s, and that of Evie’s in his hands. Dráddør, the man who had dedicated his life to killing Arnfinn, Earl of Caithness, thought she was dull-witted no matter what Jennie had told him. She had considered pretending to be such, but ’twas not her nature to cower to anyone.
Jennie.
She swallowed her tears.
Locked her jaw and grappled for control.
If only she had known that Jennie had resolved to end both her life and Arnfinn’s. She would have stopped her from drinking the poison.
What had caused her to make such a sacrifice? And why did Jennie refuse to speak of it? What terrible threat had Arnfinn used? Or had it been another?
Hatred, raw and grating, boiled her blood to thundering in her ears. She despised the man all thought her father. She loved the woman all thought her mother.
Blinded by her fury, she bumped into a side table and would have tumbled had not Dráddør grabbed her by the waist. His aroma enveloped her at once, veiling her other senses as she inhaled the mingled aromas of male sweat, leather, and the sea. So different from the female perfumes of lavender and rose she had grown accustomed to at the abbey.
He wore no gloves and an inferno danced over her skin where his fingers gripped her through the threadbare habit. She could not recall the last time any but a woman had touched her with such gentleness. ’Twas intoxicating and exciting and dizzying.
And yet she sensed naught of him. ’Twas her gift, her strength, to touch someone and catch a brief memory playing in the present, an oath taken, a port visited, mayhap even such trifle as a thirst quenched. Yet naught escaped from this man.
He steadied her. “Are you ill, lady?”
The wonder of his voice. Deep, like low thunder vibrating through clouds. Dense, rich, strong, and heated like a boulder baked in the sun. Mesmerized by his low rumble, she yearned to press her fingertips to the corded veins in his thick neck, and learn from him how to speak again.
“Lady Xára, are you faint?” He gave her a little shake.
For the blog hop I’m giving away the first two books in the series to two Lucky commenters (pun intended).
Enjoy the hop!
Cheers,
Jianne
Writers lead a solitary life in terms of their trade. So we tend to rely on outside sources for verification, that yes, someone (and it may be only one) is reading my work/blog/tweets …you get the gist. Reviews, awards, and nominations make us giddy with delight.
