by Lacy Danes
Her heart hammered. He was worth whatever this house was about. She wondered what mischievous, good-natured fun he was headed for. Or did he simply wish her to help with something? She worried her lower lip between her teeth.
He shrugged, turned and continued on his path into the stables, whistling a happy tune.
Sibila stepped out the door past Emily, bringing with her the savory smell of baking apples, cinnamon and tart.
Emily flinched and sucked in a startled breath. Had she been behind her all this time?
“He is handsome, isn’t he?” Sibila turned and glanced over her shoulder. “An amazing futter.”
A futter… Surely not everyone participated in the act with everyone else here. Or did they?
“Follow me, Emily. Learn something.” Sibila’s hips gently swayed as she followed the red earth path of sin to the fiery-haired groomsman in the barn.
Emily stared at the barn door as if through a tunnel. You do want to be introduced to him, so follow her. Emily glanced back at the door to the kitchen. Make haste before the cook sees you!
Emily stepped and her knees wobbled. Her heart pounded. Indeed she wanted to meet him. She inhaled deeply, summoning her fortitude, then gathered up her skirt and ran down the path, across the cobbled drive, to the stable door.
She pressed her back up against the bumpy stone of the barn to the right of the door and closed her eyes, listening.
Crunch, crunch, crunch. Stomp, stomp. Swish, swish. Crunch, crunch.
The horses chewed on their hay and stomped flies away. Her shoulders relaxed. She acted foolishly. Well, go on in. It was possible Sibila and the groomsman were…well, she supposed they could be doing anything.
She turned and entered the small barn. Light shined in through the paned windows, casting a golden glow in streams on the dark hall and stalls. The damp air from the cool stone chilled up her skirt like icy fingers. It was as if she entered not into a sprite’s den, but something infinitely more sinister.
She inhaled to steady herself and glanced around. Horses resided in the first two stalls. The smell of dry hay and the unique scent of beast and sweat curled into her nostrils. Her muscles tensed. She’d always enjoyed the smell of the barn. It reminded her of long days spent occupying herself while her father readied the horses for the carriage. Though the smells and sounds were similar here, there was a stimulating heated noise to the air which she could not quite place. She strained to hear it more clearly. There was a rustling of cloth and whispered voices.
She stepped forward, carefully listening. She turned the corner and headed down another longer row of stalls with a green door at its end.
“There she is, Adam,” Sibila whispered from the stall to the left of Emily. “I told you she would follow.”
“Miss Grey.” His deep voice, so different from what she’d imagined, made the hairs on her neck stand and her stomach flutter. “Come in and assist us.”
Emily peered through the slats in the wood, but saw only hazy light and shadows. What were they about? Maybe they simply required her help with something.
Emily lifted the wooden latch on the stall door and pulled it to the right, sliding it out of the way. She stepped in and quickly closed it behind her.
The copper-haired groomsman faced away from her. His green coat lay fanned out on the hay before him, and he stood in his white shirt and brown breeches. “Umm.” A wet, slopping sound came from in front of him.
She stepped closer, and her head spun slightly from the stifling confines of the small space.
“You require my assistance with something…sir?”
“God, yes.” His hips pressed forward and then relaxed.
Emily stepped closer. Goodness, he was taller and broader at this vantage than he had appeared from a distance in the dry laundry. His stature was impressive. Definitely not a sprite. She barely came to his shoulders. She rounded his side.
Sibila knelt before him. Her skirts billowed out around her. Hands on his thighs, she licked the length of his peg with an improper slurping sound.
Emily’s eyes widened. Oh! She should not be watching this. This was definitely something obscene. The hairs on her neck stood and tingled. They had asked her here to assist them! She could not look away. Long, thick and red, his staff stood straight from his trousers.
“No need to fret, little one. Sibila told me of your innocence and desires. We shall show you nothing more.”
Duty and honor demand the ultimate sacrifice.
Haevyn
© 2012 Darcy Abriel
Humanotica, Book 2
Everyone has their poison. For Haevyn Briena, it’s her inability to resist a dare. This time it’s a challenge from her friend and lover, Grisha, to sneak into the popular, illegal cage fights that always end in all-male orgies. Eagerly she snaps up the gauntlet, unaware that she will end the night forever changed.
When expatriate humanotic warrior Entreus locks eyes with Haevyn at the sex-fueled event, he is instantly captivated. Despite a duty that binds him to an exiled malevolent sorcerer, he seeks her out in a shattering, illuminating encounter.
Grisha’s plan is in motion—to bring both his warrior lovers together and heal their scarred souls with a combined passion that he alone cannot provide. But Haevyn’s tormented past refuses to die. And Entreus will not rest until the Core that ruined his life is destroyed.
Amid ever-tangling emotions and a brutal plot to take over the city, the three lovers walk a tightrope that could be cut at any moment. Fighting for justice, bound by duty…and a love that could alter the foundations of their world.
Warning: Watch out for oiled-up, naked trinespined warriors battling for top position, feisty tracer females that fit oh-so-snugly in between, and sexy nights that segue into complex relationships. Beware of tebitcheckers wielding those nasty little contulators at illegal, testosterone-drenched cage confrontations.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Haevyn:
The stillness of the night closed in around her, and Haevyn hugged the warm cloak closer. Quickly drawing in a breath of stinging, salty sea air, she attempted to clear her head and regain some measure of composure. She should not be lusting after such a man. She’d learned firsthand the true nature of a humanotic. The education she’d received as the doxy of just such a humanotic should have been long-lasting and far-reaching. She’d joined the Compsociates in part to get away from his kind.
Haevyn had promised herself she wouldn’t think about the past. What had gone before she couldn’t change, no matter how much she wished it were otherwise. There had been purpose to it, but still the scar remained firmly etched into her sporiti. Somehow, she hadn’t expected the sensation of…filth to remain with her. She’d learned to live with it, learned to adjust and to bear the stain. There were moments… Ah, yes, there were moments when she came close to forgetting her past. Grisha helped soothe her sporiti. He never judged her for her choices, never demanded. He understood her as no one else could.
Still, out of the ashes of her past had been formed this twisted attraction, like flutterflies to a flame, drawing her to the heart of destruction. Hot, bright and painfully savage. Scars formed from the fires of retribution now made her need, so much more than ever before, to escape the numbing that shut her off from dangerous emotion.
Her boots thumped against the old wood boards. At least the choices she’d made, though survival had necessitated them, had been her own. She’d clawed her way out of the factories, away from Rollin Trader, and with luck, she’d managed to keep herself out of the hands of humanotics and far away from the Factorium that created them. Even if it did mean fighting her own base urges as well.
“You shouldn’t be out walking these docks alone.”
She whirled around, a hand going to the weapon in the deep pocket of her cloak. Instinct kicked in.
It was him, the humanotic champion from the Cockrage. Her fingers curled around the unyielding handle of the revolver. Just that act alone offered some secur
ity. She should have scented him, known he was near. Facing him, though he stood some distance away in deeper shadows untouched by the bright moonlight, she took a cautious step back. He reeked still of game-savage intensity. And the scent of that barbarian earthiness appealed to her in a way it shouldn’t. But now, at least, he was partially clothed, though the trousers fit him all too snugly.
“Are you following me?” she asked in a deceptively deep tone, still trying to mask her sex.
He stepped forward, lamplight spilling over him, glinting on his bare, skinmetal chest. Gods help her, why was she drawn to this stranger so peculiarly? She fought the attraction with everything she had, but it was almost more than she could withstand. Something seemed…different about him. Or maybe it was just the energy of the night still drenching her from the games. Aberrant attraction. She would be the cause of her own destruction if she wasn’t careful.
Waterfall
Lacy Danes
It’s easy to fall in love. Destiny requires tooth and claw.
Dragon’s Fate, Book 1
Curses are designed to be cruel, but the one afflicting Jordan and his brothers is almost beyond bearing. A dragon born by blood magic, he is an immortal trapped in human form, with only one hope of finding his eternal mate. He must bite her—and pray she lives.
One dark night, he senses the wounded heartbeat of a woman in the shadows, begging him to end her life. Ever the gentleman, he chivalrously obliges her wish. Only to discover three days later that she lives. And has married another.
Celeste always dreamed of marrying for love, but the nightmare of living in her father’s home drives her to wed the Duke of Hudson. Yet on her wedding eve, she is compelled to follow a mysterious man who professes to know her secret. A man with curious blue scales on his muscular arms—whose shadowed eyes reflect a dangerous mix of destiny and desire…
Warning: This novel contains explicit sex, sex in water, four super-hot dragon brothers, and a curse born from magical power that has left them wondering who they are all their lives.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Waterfall
Copyright © 2013 by Lacy Danes
ISBN: 978-1-61921-449-1
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2013
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the Author
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