by Lisa Kumar
Correlton offered his hand and helped her stand. Julia leaned into her husband, and Maryanne had to smother a happy sigh. When had she turned into such a romantic? But she couldn’t help it. They were just too cute. Correlton was all solicitous concern and adoring affection, with Julia returning his love right back at him.
Oh, Maryanne knew she and Jonathan acted sickeningly lovey-dovey at times, so they weren’t much different. Well, except for the baby part. They hadn’t gotten around to that yet, but her birth control had just worn off, so….
Jonathan stood with a flourish and bowed before her. “My lady, may I have the honor of this walk?”
Her heart fluttered. “You may,” she said, smiling and giving him her hand.
Soon, they were walking along the stream, his arm loosely around her waist. When they were alone or with just Correlton and Julia, the stiff formality of Regency society that she still found challenging to accept at times was discarded. She rested her head on his shoulder, not wanting this moment to end.
Jonathan stopped walking and pulled her against him. After giving her a toe-curling kiss, he murmured against her ear, “If you are ready, I think I’d like to try for an heir or heiress.”
She froze, but not for long since she wasn’t that shocked. Before marrying, they’d talked about children and agreed to bring it up when the time felt right. Apparently, now felt right to him.
Though his voice had been husky, a tenseness had taken hold of him, so she knew he wasn’t sure of her answer.
She’d have to make it perfectly clear.
After she pulled back from him a little, she waggled her brows. “We can start tonight.”
With a chuckle, he captured her lips in a quick kiss before leading her along the stream.
About the Author:
I’m a wife, mother, and romance writer who grew up in small-town Indiana. I studied psychology in college and have worked off and on in the mental health field over the years. I now reside in the suburbs of Chicago with my husband and our two sons. When not spinning tales of romance and fantasy, I can often be found with my nose buried in a book. I also love going for walks with my youngest son and taking Zumba classes. One of my stories, Bound to the Elvin King, won Ind’Tale’s 2015 RONE award for best Sci-Fi/Fantasy.
Connect with Me Online:
Twitter
Facebook
Goodreads
Bound by the Mist
(Mists of Eria Book 2)
Relian has lived a life that hasn’t changed in millennia, and he likes it that way. As Prince of the Erian people, he has his conscripted duties. And a human, even one as desirable as Calantha, does not fit into them. But as the enemy darkindred knock on the borders and the magic of his people fades, he might just have to find room.
College student Cal Weston spends a good portion of her time trying to keep people from thinking she’s crazy, including herself. And with good reason. But her carefully constructed reality is turned upside down when she discovers that Relian, the seductive elvin prince who has been starring in her sensuous fantasies, isn’t merely a myth and his magical kingdom really exists. Now she’s bound to an elf and stuck in a land where no one, least of all Relian, is willing to spill any answers about the truth of her arrival.
Even as love grows between them, can they lay aside their differences to embrace a life together?
Excerpt
Pinching her cheek, she winced. Nope, she was awake, though she couldn’t be too sure of anything else. Cal dropped her hand back to her side, while she looked around. Her brain felt fuzzy. Where was she? There had to be a door out of here. She couldn’t miss her theory class, because she really needed a good grade.
The disjointed thoughts rushed through her head, almost startling her out of her stupor. She stifled a hysterical giggle. None of this was very logical, but it was all she could manage.
All too soon, reality crashed down, hard. Panic followed behind like a close friend. If there had been walls, they would’ve been closing in on her, crushing and suffocating her. Oh, god. Oh, god.
“My lady, who are you, and what are we doing here?”An elegant sounding voice icily cut into Cal’s thoughts, disrupting her comforting mantra and returning her to the mist.
The voice, it was…it sounded…. She froze before she jerked around. In spite of the mist, she instantly recognized that noble face and bearing. That hair, there was no mistaking it. Arctic air infiltrated her veins, and she felt her features go slack. Thinking to clear her eyes, she rubbed them. The reason for all her therapy still stood in front of her, the very same one from her dreams, from the glen. Her throat strangled any words that tried to form. But he’d demanded an answer from her, along with her name. Even though old tales concerning the power of names blared in her head, she couldn’t resist his pull.
“I…Cal Warner.” She hesitated and floundered for something else to add until she decided he could offer up the same information. After all, if his knowing her name put her at a disadvantage, she would do her best to level the playing field. “And you, your name, I mean?”
“I am Relian, of the Erian Elves.”
That was undeniably the voice from her dreams. There’d always been a definite accent to the voice, but she’d never the wherewithal to place its origin.
“Elves?” She laughed nervously, placing a startled hand over her heart. Though she suspected this, to actually hear it….
“Yes.” His eyes bored into her. “I am the Erian prince.” His smooth tenor voice stated the title with only the barest hint of emotion and pride.
“Prince?” Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and lightheadedness swept over her. Closing her eyes briefly, she prayed she would wake from this fucked-up fairytale. Not only an elf but also a prince. Just her luck. Speaking wouldn’t be wise. What if she said the wrong thing and got her head lopped off? She forced her eyes open, only to wish she hadn’t.
He had a quality about him that made her leery. Even given the intimacy of her dreams, she couldn’t say if he were a danger or not. Best not to test the theory. Diplomacy. Yes, diplomacy was the key.
Tamping down on the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her, she let her gaze settle around the general area of his face. That was the first step, looking him in the eye. But she soon forgot this goal after she engrossed herself in her task. His eyes, slightly almond-shaped and set above high cheekbones, were the same gray she remembered in her dreams. She didn’t know if his lightly tanned skin was natural or if he had a suntan. His black hair flowed free over his shoulders, reaching to his waist. He was handsome but in an otherworldly way that she couldn’t accurately describe.
Her gaze slid over his clothing. A brown leather tunic, along with a tan under tunic worn beneath, stretched over wide shoulders and hugged a muscular chest. Leggings of a darker brown hue rounded out his apparel and encased long, lean legs. He wore vambraces on his arms, and boots of soft leather that looked remarkably clean. An inner-eye roll met that thought. The cleanliness of his attire was not important at a time like this, damn it.
Though she just chided herself, she took another peek at his boots and vambraces. Both were elaborately tooled in silver with impossibly flowing patterns etched on them, reminding her of Celtic designs. Fancy clothes for a warrior, but on an elvin warrior, they seemed appropriate.
A warrior and prince…a warrior elf-prince? The words sounded cliché, like some shiny, remade fairytale. She almost giggled at the absurdness of the situation until another thought intruded. “We understand each other. You shouldn’t even exist.”
“I could say the same thing about you.”
Bound to the Elvin King
(Mists of Eria Book 2)
InD’tale’s 2015 RONE (Reward of Novel Excellence) Award Winner for Fantasy/Sci-fi
After countless millennia as the King of Eria, Talion thought he’d experienced all life had to offer. That is, until Maggie entered his land. The beautiful human whirlwind refreshes his spirit, while all t
oo often trying his patience. Though he desires nothing more than to claim her as his bond mate and queen, his secrets could drive them apart or even end their lives.
Stranded in the elvin land of Eria, Maggie D’Anglio spends her days trying to figure out a way home while attempting to avoid the sexy and provoking Talion. Unfortunately, she’s living in his palace. His world. His rules. And he can watch her squirm under his penetrating gaze anytime he wants. The mysterious king intrigues and infuriates her as no one ever has, a lethal combination to her commitment-phobic heart. But when she parties too hard and wakes up magically bound to him, there’s no escaping the irresistible irritant—or her new role in a land on the brink of war with the darkindred.
His past, along with her pride, will threaten their relationship and their very lives. If they can’t place their differences aside, a kingdom will be lost to bloodshed. Will they have the courage to admit their love for each other, or will their fears bind them together in death?
Excerpt
“What is it, my sweet?”
She forced a smile to her face and turned to Avrin, who sat across from her. “Nothing. Just saw something unpalatable.”
The king’s advisor raised a brown brow. “The servants haven’t brought the food yet.” Shit. “The smell of the food? Yeah, that’s it.” He took a deliberate sniff of air. “I don’t smell anything unpleasant.” “Trust me, I do.”
He shook his head. “I’ll never understand you. But it only makes you more alluring.”
Her saucy reply died upon her lips when Talion’s dreaded velvet voice interrupted from behind her. “Are you flirting with the human again, Avrin?”
She growled under her breath. The King of Asses butted in once again. Unfortunately, the head table was his table. If it weren’t for her friends, she’d sit elsewhere, but she didn’t want to be separated from Avrin, Kenhel, Cal, and Relian. The happy newly-weds had yet to show, though. Damn them. And Kenhel must still be tied up by his commander duties.
Avrin sent her a wicked glance before turning his gaze to the Erian king. “Of course. I find human women very fascinating.”
Talion snorted. “What other one is there to flirt with, my friend?”
She stiffened at his implication that no one would give her any notice if there were any other single humans around. He could take the insult and shove it up his elvin— His taunting voice cut into her thoughts.
“Nothing to say?”
“Oh, I have a lot to say. But none of it’s appropriate to say in public, especially to a person of your esteemed station.”
He chuckled and leaned down. His breath fanned against the sensitive skin behind her ear. “How about you take me to task in a more private locale?”
She froze as a shiver swept across her shoulders and down her back. Ignoring the funny feeling, she concentrated on the suspicion blooming in her mind. What fricking game was he playing now? Taking a deep breath, she turned to catch a glimpse of his face. Bad idea. His eyes glowed with a mocking light that highlighted the attractive laugh lines branching from them. All in all, he looked delicious. Oh hell, no. She wasn’t going there. “Not on your life, King Tut.”
Bound to His Redemption
(Mists of Eria Book Three)
Liar, murderer, traitor…
these are all names Eamon has been called, and he wears them with pride. Depending on which side one falls, those titles are only too true. But it’s all part of his orchestrated manipulations. Up until the day he was banished from the fae land of Eria, he had schemed for millennia to protect his people, even resorting to murder. As punishment, the Erian king exiled him on Earth to live amongst the lowliest creatures of all—humans. Yet one frustrating and captivating woman shakes his ingrained beliefs to the core.
Newly minted physical therapist Caralyn Alberts has been drawing images of a handsome, otherworldly stranger for as long as she can remember. She’s chalked it up as a fluke occurrence of life. But when she finds the arrogant Eamon sprawled out on the ice at a local park, her life becomes just as slippery and dangerous as the hauntingly familiar elf. Enemies, friends, and unwilling partners inundate them from all sides.
When Eamon’s treacherous past makes a reappearance, they’ll have to trust each other in order to keep their hearts—and their very lives—intact.
Excerpt
The slurpy, warm lick to Eamon’s cheek halted all thought. He cringed away from the animal looming over him. The damn thing gave no quarter and proceeded to bathe his face in its saliva. He shuddered to think where that tongue had been. Finally regaining his mind, Eamon lifted his hands to push the brown dog away.
“Archie, no, come back here!”
At the sound of the female’s voice, his mind went blank to all else but the voice. Something warm unfurled in his chest, and he gasped at the foreign sensation. Was this heartburn? No, he’d experienced that once or twice in his long life. This felt distinctly different — nice and fuzzy. He didn’t like nice and fuzzy. Anger and hatred suited him just fine.
“Sir, are you okay?”
That voice again. It made him lose his mind in the most disconcerting manner, and that couldn’t be allowed. He slowly lifted his aching head to lambast the stupid mortal for daring to speak to him. As he got his first glance of her, though, all words froze on his tongue, and he stared at the first human to leave him dumbfounded in every way.
It wasn’t that she was beautiful, though she was undeniably attractive for a human. But the light that surrounded her grabbed his gaze and wouldn’t let go. The glow wasn’t the artificial kind from the lamp pole above her. No, she exuded her own brilliance — a bright sparkling yellow-white peppered with the falling snowflakes — and it nearly blinded him.
He scowled at the insane notion. Everything good and pure had long been gone from his life. Even if he could recognize those qualities, he certainly had no need of them. Had Earth addled his brain so drastically?
Still, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. The translucent color enveloped her from the top of her head all the way down to her shoe-covered toes. Not even the cap that covered her sandy-colored hair remained untouched. He’d never seen anything like it before around a human. The only auras he’d ever perceived were those of the darkindred when he’d been in possession of the orb. While theirs had been yellow, they hadn’t contained the dazzling warmth hers did. So what did this mean?
After heaving himself into a sitting position, he glared at the human who loitered about six feet away from him. As he fended off the four-legged menace with an out-flung hand, at least the annoying glow surrounding her subsided until it nearly disappeared.
The woman gasped and stared at him in the most peculiar way, her mouth opening and closing. It was almost as if she’d recognized who or what he was. Preposterous. She couldn’t know about him, let alone know him.
“What are you looking at, human?” He put as much biting frost into his tone as he could. Though he shouldn’t be drawing more attention to himself by calling her human, he couldn’t stop the insult from leaving his mouth.
She took a step back. “Who … what are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? Taking a nap?”
“Actually … yes. I thought you might be a drunk.”
His mouth twisted. “Not yet.” Give me some time. Though truthfully, it was highly unlikely he’d become drunk on the swill that humans could offer, anyway.
