The Deepest Ocean (Eden Series)

by Marian Perera

  Darok bent his head and kissed her, careless of anyone who might see. “Come back from Whetstone soon,” he whispered against her mouth. “Come back to me.”

  “I will.” She slid her arms around his neck. “Wherever I am, I will.”

  The water murmured and the wind washed into the sails as strong and steadily as an unseen tide, but from nearby a new song rose above the sounds of the ship and the sea.

  Then paint a black bird upon your white sail,

  And let the wind carry your craft to the shore.

  The wise men shall whisper the traveler’s tale

  But the traveler himself shall go searching no more.

  About the Author

  Marian Perera has a Portuguese last name, was born in Sri Lanka, grew up in Dubai, studied in Texas, worked in Iqaluit and lives in Toronto. For now. She studied microbiology and medical laboratory technology, but fell in love with fantasy along the way. She enjoys blogging about writing, publishing and her here-and-there life at marianperera.blogspot.com, and loves to hear from readers—send her an email at mdperera@hotmail.com. There’s also more about the world of Eden on her website at www.marianperera.com.

  Look for these titles by Marian Perera

  Now Available:

  Eden

  Before the Storm

  Coming Soon:

  The Farthest Shore

  Whore…gift…and unexpected ally.

  Before the Storm

  © 2010 Marian Perera

  Eden Series, Book 1

  In Dagran society, Alex is the lowest of the low—a “mare”, an object to be used by the nobility. When her owner, Stephen Garnath, gifts her to his greatest rival, she begins plotting her path to freedom. Nothing and no one will ever control her again. Not her degrading past, and certainly not her growing attraction to a man reputed to be an even crueler master than Garnath.

  Robert Demeresna is instantly suspicious of such a generous gift. Yet she comes to him armed with only her sharp mind—a potent weapon he can use to defend his people from the enemy. And underneath, an unbreakable spirit that besieges the walls of his heart.

  Slowly, Robert chips away at Alex’s defenses, striking sparks that make her begin to believe even a lowly whore like her could be worthy of him. Until Garnath springs a trap so cleverly hidden, war is unleashed before either of them sees it coming. A new kind of war fought with steam engines, explosives—and magic with a killing edge…

  Warning: Contains violence, steam engines, steamier sex and multiple explosions of the unstable chemical variety.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Before the Storm:

  At the end of the passage, Robert was in a window seat, looking down over the crude fortifications, but he turned to see her.

  “Come and sit.” He swung his leg off the window seat to make room for her. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Everything’s fine.” As fine as it could be under the circumstances. Alex felt awkward, because the window seat was short enough that she would be very close to Robert, but her body had already moved to obey and she seated herself.

  “Not everything, or you wouldn’t have come looking for me. What is it?”

  Now that Alex was closer, she saw the tired lines on his face and knew he had enough to worry about without her adding to it. But she couldn’t just sit in silence, and the polite meaningless chatter that had come to her so easily in Stephen’s castle was out of place here.

  “I agree with Susanna about one thing,” she said. “We can’t win even a war of attrition, and if we flee to the Mistmarch, all Stephen has to do is to cut our supply lines and wait for winter. Then he could walk in and pick the skeletons clean.”

  Robert sighed. “We can’t win any war, Alex. We don’t have the numbers. The Benevolent Ones favor large armies—I learned that much from my history lessons.”

  “So you think we could all die?”

  “I think that’s a distinct possibility, but one I’d like to forestall for as long as possible.” He did not look either terrified or bitter, and when he raised an eyebrow, it was an almost teasing gesture. “Is this how you imagined your life might end, fighting a battle with a band of renegades?”

  Alex nearly smiled. “Renegade” was not a word she would ever have applied to Robert. “This isn’t too bad. How did you think you would die?”

  “Oh, in bed at the age of eighty, with a big family clustered around me, bickering over who got what in my will. And from time to time, I’d hold my breath and stare at the roof, wait a minute and then sit up yelling, ‘Praise the gods, I’m still alive!’ until my family got so tired of it that they would hit me with a poker just to end the farce.”

  That time she laughed—it was preposterous and funny and so much what she had come to expect from Robert. For a moment she could forget about the battle and the fact that he would die in the trampled, bloody mud outside Fulmion, if he was lucky.

  “You’re a morbid woman,” Robert said, “giggling at a deathbed scene.”

  “I don’t giggle.” Alex pretended to be offended. “Young girls may, but ladies do not giggle.”

  Robert’s face grew serious. “Ladies also wouldn’t be caught in a window seat with a man to whom they weren’t joined. Did you know that?”

  “Yes.” Alex wasn’t sure whether to meet his gaze or to look away. She could take a punch or even a beating, but she felt balanced on a tightrope, and one word from him would push her over.

  “I thought you did.” Robert paused. “So why are you really here? Be honest with me, Alex—not only does it save time, but I hate guessing games. I don’t know how you feel about them.”

  “I’ve never played.” Alex’s voice was suddenly hoarse, so she cleared her throat and looked at her skirts. It was true, she hadn’t. If a man wanted her, he asked Stephen, and if Stephen had something to gain, she undressed and did whatever was required. She had no idea how to convey her own interest, because she had rarely felt it before, and because it had been quite irrelevant when she did.

  I’m making a spectacle of myself. I can’t just say out loud that I—that I want him. What if he still thinks I’m a spy, not to be trusted? And why should he be attracted to a mare?

  The last word slapped cold sense back into her, because no respectable man would want a woman who had been used by countless other men. She swallowed, composed herself and looked back at Robert.

  “Very well, I’ll be honest with you,” she said, her voice as strong as ever. “I think I was a fool to come here, not to mention forward and indelicate. I apologize for disturbing you.” She rose to leave.

  Robert took her hand, his fingers closing around her wrist. Alex froze, uncertain whether to pull away or pretend that she hadn’t noticed.

  “Sit down, Alex.” She obeyed, but he didn’t release her hand. “Forward and indelicate—what does that mean, exactly? What did you have in mind?”

  Robert, don’t do this to me! She stopped herself blurting that out with an effort of will, and she hoped he couldn’t feel the corresponding rise in her pulse rate. Fine, if there was a battle to be fought, she could start it right now.

  “What did I have in mind?” She glanced down at his hand. “Nothing that wasn’t in yours, obviously.”

  He smiled, and she felt him stroke the back of her wrist with his thumb. “I’ve always liked that about you, Alex—you don’t crumble at the first tap.”

  “You call that a tap?” Alex tried to ignore the light, rhythmic movements along her skin. She had taken threats and blows and magic, so she wouldn’t let Robert disconcert her again.

  “What do you consider a tap?” His voice was low and husky, and Alex felt her thoughts disappear while her skin prickled. She had to make him stop stroking her.

  She grasped his hand and lifted it off her wrist, only to find that she couldn’t let go. The ridged scar and the calluses on his palm felt rough against her fingertips, but his touch had been as gentle as if she were a kitten. Slowly, feeling that this was a dream w
hich might end unless she was careful not to disturb it, she raised his hand and held it to her cheek. His palm curved to cup her face.

  “That’s a tap,” she said.

  “And are you close to crumbling?”

  “Oh, no.” She had never felt so nervous, and her heart thudded wildly. “That takes more than just one tap, remember?”

  “I remember.” Robert tilted her jaw upwards as he leaned closer. “May I give you another?”

  Alex couldn’t reply. She could barely think any longer, not when Robert was so close that she could have tipped her head forward and met his lips with hers, and in the next moment, that was what she did. Her eyes lidded as she simply let herself feel him, the tickle of his beard against her skin, the firm straight mouth against hers. It was the most chaste kiss she had ever had. Then he deepened it.

  Alex gasped at the first touch of his tongue on her lips, lightly flicking against them, and when her mouth opened, Robert kissed her harder. His arm went around her waist, drawing her against his chest, and she felt the sudden softness of his hair under her hands as she buried her fingers in it, holding him to her. When his tongue brushed hers, she shuddered in startled pleasure, then returned the slow intimate touch with a desire that was rapidly burning out of control.

  Most men had not bothered to kiss her first, but Robert did, tasting and exploring her mouth hungrily. And with any other man, that would have left Alex cold and untouched, but now her own passion met and matched Robert’s. There was no need to feign her reaction. She slanted her mouth beneath his to take his tongue deep, drowning in the heat, a low longing sound in the back of her throat.

  Robert broke the kiss, gasping, but before Alex, equally breathless, could recover, he was kissing her again. The corner of her mouth, her cheek, her earlobe, which he took into his mouth. She moaned when he found her ear, breathing into it, his beard brushing her skin like a fox’s pelt. Then his mouth covered hers again and Alex softly sucked his lower lip. She heard him groan even as he pushed her away gently.

  “We have to stop,” he said.

  All her desire chilled. “Why?”

  Robert swallowed hard and looked away. “Alex, I don’t want you to think you have to do this. You don’t owe me anything.”

  Worst case of mistaken identity EVER…

  God of Fyre Mountain

  © 2013 Renee Wildes

  Guardians of Light, Book 6

  As a teacher, Maili is adept at juggling multiple tasks, but this is ridiculous. Erotic dreams make her sleep anything but restful. Her father wants to marry her off to a neighboring chieftain’s son. Her grandmother’s whispered blasphemy about doubting the gods has the local volcano threatening to split wide open.

  As she prays in the temple for mercy on her grandmother, Maili expects the mountain to smoke and rumble. She doesn’t expect Afu himself to pop through a dark fissure and squash her flat.

  The last thing Dax remembers is vowing to prevent his queen’s assassination. He wakes up in an island paradise, where the primitive natives worship the statue of a troll named Afu. And they expect him—their fyre god incarnate—to stop their cranky volcano from blowing up.

  As an incentive, they’ve given him a maiden sacrifice/bride, a dark-eyed beauty who’s just as determined to seduce him as he is to return home in one piece.

  While she’s less than thrilled to be traded like a chicken, one thing is certain. Dax is the man in her dreams…and she’s hell bent on making the come true. Or her people may die.

  Warning: Contains erotic dreams, volcanic-hot love scenes, one edgy F/F interrogation scene and some self-loving. Also treason, black sorcery and an evil witch doctor who shrinks heads.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for God of Fyre Mountain:

  Maili dove naked from atop the cliff. The cold water of the deep pool felt wonderful against her hot, sweaty skin. A welcome, albeit temporary, refuge from the old gossips in the village. Despite the perilous climb and descent, this would be the logical place for them to get their water. Safer than facing the river dragons and the threat of the Kali. But for the moment, she still had it all to herself.

  Betwixt her father’s plans to marry her off to Old Stone-Face and the shock of Afu’s prophesied coming, she’d hardly slept a wink. The dream had changed; it was Afu who’d taken her in his arms, captured her lips with his. Her dreams had been filled with erotic images and sensations, of heat and sweat and skin sliding on skin. The mere memory made her twitch.

  Ugh. She needed to get away.

  “Maili!” A familiar naked form plunged into the water, drenching her anew. Noelani surfaced, sputtering. “You must help me hide. Trade me to the Kali. I’d be better off with them than with Lanikula.” Noelani burst into tears and showed Maili her new tattoo, the sika-red mouth beneath her right ear. A way for the gods to speak to her. The mark of a witch doctor.

  Maili’s heart ached at seeing the darkening bruise on Noelani’s cheek. Lanikula could be a harsh taskmistress. “There’s more to it than that. Apprentice witches learn the rituals and tattooing patterns. Soon you’ll have power unimaginable, and no one will hurt you ever again.”

  “I never wanted that power,” Noelani protested. “I just want to be an ordinary village woman with a dozen kids and a loving husband.”

  Didn’t look like either of them was going to get her wish. Pilipo wasn’t any gentler than Lanikula, and his fists were a lot bigger.

  “I’m not performing the muliwa,” Noelani reiterated. “I’ll run away and join the Kali. I mean it. I’d rather bed a hundred smelly Kali than shrink one head.”

  “Don’t be mad; that would be much worse. They’d feed you to their snake gods.” Maili shuddered. “Come on. Let’s lie in the sun and dry off. That’s always relaxing.” Maili swam over to their rock and hauled herself up to sprawl on the sun-warmed flat surface.

  Noelani lay on her stomach, head pillowed on her crossed arms. “I know I need to serve a purpose but this is what they came up with?”

  “At least your purpose is a true purpose,” Maili groused. “You get to help the whole village. I get to be Pilipo’s slave.”

  Noelani frowned. “‘Wife’ doesn’t mean ‘slave’.”

  Maili shuddered. “You haven’t seen how he looks at me when we’re alone.”

  “He wants you. But that helps the whole village too. He’s agreed to lead and train our warriors if you wed him. Chieftain’s son and chieftain’s daughter, the strength of two Toka villages working together. We’ll all be much safer.”

  “Not all.” Maili indicated Noelani’s battered face. “How long ’til I have a similar look? Neither one of us is suited to just giving in and doing what we’re told. I don’t know why we can’t trade places. You wed Old Stone-Face, and I’ll shrink Kali heads.”

  Noelani bit her lip. “I’m not royal, and Lanikula says you’re not suitable for the power. Are you certain you’re not just nervous of the marriage bed? Don’t you find Pilipo handsome? Everyone else seems to.”

  “He’s always so grim, and the least little thing makes him angry. I’ve never seen him smile. Have you? I wonder, do you think he frowns even when he’s over a woman?”

  Noelani’s face flamed. “How can you say such things?”

  “Don’t you wonder about what men and women do together in the dark? I caught Pilipo and Tia once. All that writhing and moaning, her legs over his shoulders and her feet in the air. Every time he thrust his man root into her, he grunted and her breasts bounced.”

  Pilipo had mounted nigh every woman in the village; soon she’d be under him too.

  Noelani cupped her ears. “I’m not listening to this.”

  “I picture Pilipo doing that to me and break into hysterical giggles. What if we wed, and he…and I start laughing? He’s bound to get the wrong idea.” Maili covered her face.

  “True. But you said you wanted children. You’re good with children.”

  Maili loved teaching the village children; she yearned for her own. Wh
at she couldn’t imagine was Pilipo pinning her to his sleeping mat, grunting and thrusting betwixt her legs whilst her breasts bounced. The thought of Pilipo pounding into her, sliding deep into her body…

  Mayhap she and Noelani could run off to the enemy Kali together.

  “We should head back. We’ll be missed. Lanikula would be…displeased were she to have to come looking for me.”

  “You go on, then. I’m going to stay longer. It’s nice and peaceful here. For now.” Maili closed her eyes. She wasn’t going back there ’til she had to.

  “Don’t stay too long,” Noelani cautioned.

  Maili heard Noelani move off, and then her mind drifted. She must have dozed, because she dreamt. Her surroundings changed—and she was no longer alone.

  She stood naked atop a bamboo platform high in the trees. He moved behind her, warm, rough hands on her shoulders. She shivered at his touch. She leaned back against him, tilting her head as he nuzzled her ear. The brush of his beard made her gasp as he lipped her lobe and nibbled along the curve of her neck down to her shoulder. Her breasts tingled. He flicked his tongue against her skin and she whimpered, shifting against him. She raised her arm to curl a hand behind his neck, drawing him closer. Heavy, matted coils of coarse brown hair kissed her knuckles as she caressed hot, weathered skin.

  Why had the erotic dreams of Afu returned?

  He growled and suckled on a sensitive spot just below her ear. His hands cupped her breasts, kneading, rubbing the darkened tips. He plucked at her nipples, and a strange jolt sizzled downward. She shivered and squirmed against him, panting.

  “That’s it.” His voice was a rough purr. “Feel the pleasure.”

  Her body came alive under his mouth, his hands. A pulsing, needy feeling uncurled. Taking her hand in his, he guided her down to the aching flesh betwixt her quivering thighs. Their fingers slid through lush, slippery folds. She whimpered as his thumb circled a tiny point of fire, and she jerked in his arms with a moan.