Warriors of Lemuria
Forbidden love. Untouchable…
King Noeh wants to live his single life, fight his enemy, and honor his goddess by winning the war over Earth’s most precious resource—water. Bonding to a female shifter is not part of the plan, not until his goddess insists he take a queen by the next full moon or lose his crown. When he rescues a beautiful female from the enemy’s grasp, a forbidden attraction blooms, and he must decide between his kingdom and his heart.
Melissa hunts for a new place she can call home, one far away from her controlling master who vowed to make her his concubine. Captured by the enemy and tortured to near death, she’s rescued by a brooding, handsome king. When her master shows up at the king’s underground Keep, the tension escalates. She struggles to keep the honorable king at arm’s length, but she can’t ignore the compelling desire he ignites in her soul.
“You escaped. Perhaps I should put you in the dungeon.” Noeh’s voice was low and threatening. The resulting shiver that skated across her arms wasn’t from fear.
She wanted to pound her fists against his body. “I’ll just pick my way out of there, too.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
Against her will, her body responded to his intense stare. He headed straight for her, a wall of pure, masculine strength.
She stilled as he approached. Without thought, she squeezed the wet rag in her hand. Water dripped onto the exam table. The stone was slightly concave, and the moisture ran into a small groove down the center.
He placed his palms on the surface of the table and leaned in. Up close and personal, he invaded her space as if he had every right.
“I don’t usually have trouble with disobedience, but you…” His eyes glowed, gold flecks mixing with the blue.
She met his gaze and didn’t flinch. “I think you like the challenge.”
The skin around his eyes creased as a smile broke across his face. “You might be right about that.”
Warriors of Lemuria Novella
The Betram ritual, when the full moon occurs on the summer solstice, is a sexual rite—and a requirement—for all unbonded Stiyaha of age. The irresistible urge to mate drives their inner beasts. Some succumb and transform, while others hide behind masks. None can escape the compelling need.
For Leonna, Betram offers one night of freedom from a destiny she doesn’t want. Eager to participate, she’s drawn to a formidable male whose tenderness burrows into her soul. Despite discovering she’s below his status, she is caught up in their passionate frenzy, and loses her heart to a male she can never have.
Though reluctant, as an unbonded male, Prince Nicholai must participate in the Betram ritual. Because he fears harming anyone he gets close to, he dons his mask and vows to stay in human form. What he doesn’t expect is the intensity of his hunger for a certain honeyed female hidden behind a disguise. As much as he longs to forget her, he can’t, for she’s unforgettable.
Murmurs from the crowd picked up. Titters of ‘Prince’ and ‘Nicholai’ were clear, even above the din.
She picked up brush after brush, trying to contain her mess. With her one good hand, she scooped as many as she could back into her container.
“He’s moving faster, coming our way.”
Two more brushes and she put the cup back on her short table. Her rapid breaths fueled the adrenaline that surged through her body.
“Very nice. Is this yours?” Nicholai’s deep voice resonated into her chest.
As she tried to calm herself, his unique scent of cloves and rain filled her lungs. Melting on the inside, she remembered all that he was, all that he’d done to her. She refused to look at him for fear he’d recognize her.
“Y…Yes.” She managed to get the words out, but they were husky, strained.
“You have a nice eye for detail. Have you other paintings?” He stepped closer to inspect her canvas. She caught a glimpse of his profile. His high cheekbones and aquiline nose exemplified his handsome features. He turned toward her.
She caught her breath. Those deep blue eyes were the ones she remembered, the ones she’d imagined in her dreams the past couple of nights. His brow furrowed, and she realized she hadn’t answered his question.
“I do. Have more paintings.” She turned toward her stack of completed pictures, but knocked the cup of brushes off the table.
Like twigs upon the rocks, they bounced and jogged before coming to rest on the stone floor.
“I’m…sorry.” She bent down to pick them up—again.
He lowered himself on one knee and picked up a handful of brushes. Just as she reached for one, he did as well. His finger ran along hers, lighting up the skin along their connection.
Warriors of Lemuria
Submit…or lose him forever.
As alpha of the feline shifters, Demir will do whatever is necessary to protect his kind. When his independent and headstrong second in command takes on a dangerous solo mission for revenge, he goes to her aid. As they battle the enemy, not only must he must fight his internal demons, but also his desire to claim her as his mate.
Battle-hardened Aramie leads a band of female warriors to search for the sacred blue sunstone. The unthinkable happens and she spirals into a frenzied need for vengeance to avenge her loved one’s death. She hunts for the killer while Demir’s life is on the line, and she must decide—submit to him as his mate, or lose him forever.
Demir tensed. A healing stone? Was it possible? A tiny drop of hope weaseled its way into his chest.
Sidea inhaled and let out a slow breath. “With Demir back, you won’t have to fight the males anymore. Even though our species heals fast, I hate to see you get injured defending your role as interim leader.”
He fought against the invisible bonds, straining, kicking in his mind. In his condition, he couldn’t lead, and because he still lived, Aramie wasn’t officially Pride leader. His gut twisted into a tight knot. He’d put her in an awkward position, and he hated himself for it.
“I need to finish.” Aramie’s voice returned to a normal volume.
The chair creaked as she settled in her spot next to his bed. Tools clinked together. Cool metal caressed the skin on his cheeks.
Small tendrils of hair fell onto his cheek, tickling his skin. He relaxed again under her care. His mind reeled through a storm of confusion, but he couldn’t pinpoint its source. All he knew was a welcoming peace at her touch.
“I’ll see you in the Grand Hall.” Sidea’s words hung in the air.
Her soft footsteps retreated across the floor. The door clicked shut.
“I wish you would talk to me, tell me what I should do.” Aramie caressed the hair around his mouth, wiping away the stray strands she’d clipped. Her finger circled his diamond stud above the hairline of his lip.
He wanted to grab her wrists, make her stop, and part of him was glad he couldn’t. All his adult life he’d avoided physical contact. Even with Eleanor, his deceased mate, he’d controlled when and how she touched him. To have Aramie touch him now, in such a personal way, beat against his spirit, reinforcing his weakness.
“The males only follow my command in deference to you.” Her voice contained a small hitch.
The flat end of the scissors rubbed against his skin. With gentle care her fingers glided over his upper lip, and he wanted to lick her, taste her skin on his tongue. Her attention to him teased his nerves, increasing his yearning. He’d gone from relaxed to being enticed in a matter of moments. In his mind, his cat howled in frustration.
“Sidea and I will find Blue Pool, find the healing stone. I won’t stop until we do.”
A drop of wetness splashed on his chin, and she wiped it away. Why did the females cry over him? Had she gone soft? If he could, he’d tell her to suck it up. He’d chosen her as his second in command for a reason.
Metal clinked against metal. She must’ve put the scissors back on the tray. That meant she would leave him soon. His stomach clenched. Why did he care? The only females he’d ever cared about were Eleanor and Melissa.
Eleanor had been timid and submissive—a perfect mated female. She’d always done as he’d asked, and never once challenged his authority. Her beautiful smile and deep green eyes were as clear to him as the last time he’d seen her, over five hundred years ago when the great scourge had claimed her life. Bile rose in his throat. It seemed like only yesterday.
Even though his lifespan was over two thousand years, he still had more time than not…or so he used to think. At this point, he wasn’t sure he had more than a few days left.
The memory of his mate reminded him of Melissa, who’d looked so like his Eleanor he’d obsessed over her. What a fool he’d been, pining for a female who didn’t want him. When she became pregnant with the king’s child, he’d lost his lucidity and threatened her. Aramie had interfered, commanding him to stop. He’d slapped his own warrior across the face for her insolence, but he’d let Melissa go.
After all he’d done, Aramie was here now, attending to his needs. I am such a shit.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She rose from her chair and padded to the door, lingering there for a moment. Her soft breaths sounded loud in the quiet room.
“Please come back to me,” she whispered.
She really doesn’t want to be Pride leader…
The door closed behind her, but the enchanting scent of strawberries lingered.
Warriors of Lemuria
A shifter and a human together?
One careless decision. The colony betrayed. Tanen’s only course is a desperate hunt for justice, but his solo mission is cut short when he’s mortally wounded. Rescued by a sweet, innocent woman, he can’t deny the passion that burns between them. Now he must choose between his duty and honor or his desire for the precious, but forbidden, human female.
Broken promises and ruined love hardened Sheri’s heart. When she finds an injured and extraordinarily sexy man on her property, she’s pulled into a world she never imagined. As she nurses him back to health and they bond over their love of books, she’s torn between the lessons she learned from her rough past and the need to seek solace in Tanen’s arms, but she must learn to trust him, and herself, in order to survive.
Movement caught her attention. A dark form slumped against the far wall.
She inhaled and took a step back.
The man groaned louder.
“Who are you? What are you doing in my shed?”
The only sound, his labored breaths and her own heartbeat.
She emboldened her tone with as much confidence as she could. “You’re trespassing. I’m calling the police.”
“No…don’t.” His words were short, strained, yet the tenor of his voice weaseled its way into the deepest recesses of her soul, calling to her. The sensation warmed her insides. She held her breath.
He moaned again. His dark form moved.
Her medical training kicked in and she had the urge to rush to his side, help him, but she remained wary. “Are you injured? Should I call an ambulance?”
“Is it dark outside?” His strained voice carried across the small space.
A strange desire to hear him speak again washed over her. She fisted her hand. “What difference does it make if it’s dark outside? If you’re injured, you need help.”
“Please, tell me…is it,” a quick intake of breath, “…dark yet?”
The cultured way he spoke made her still. His accent was one she’d never heard. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck, dampening her collar. He seemed in pain, but she wasn’t sure. Her curiosity warred with her fear, and she wavered between barricading herself in her house with Coop and rushing to aid him. Instead, she remained fixed in place.
“It’s dusk.” She choked the words out, her throat tightening from her confusion.
He leaned his head against the wall. She couldn’t see his features, but from his outline, she could tell he was a large man. “Don’t…fear me. I’ll leave…soon…dark.” His words washed over her again, stroking her insides.
With a quick move, he stood. A stifled groan eased from his lips, and he rested his shoulder against the wall.
She took a step back. It took all of her inner strength not to run.
Something wet dripped onto the wooden floor, the rhythmic splashes an eerie omen.
“Craya.” He tipped over, his body sliding down the wall until he landed on the floor.
“Stay, Coop.” Without a second thought, she raced to his side.
This close, the dim light was enough to see his features. Rough stubble on his chiseled jaw accentuated his luscious lips and broad nose, but what caught her attention was the intensity in his eyes. His gaze swept across her features, reading her, assessing her…devouring her. Warmth spread through her and she had the sudden urge to curl up to him, find out if his lips were as delectable as they appeared. Her cheeks heated, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts.
She peered at his clothing. Blood stained his jacket, or what was left of it. Tattered and torn, the ragged material clung from his wide shoulders. His narrow hips led to muscular legs. He wore an odd pair of trousers that looked hand-made.
With a quick tilt of his head, he glanced at her. “Don’t…touch me.”
Her training kicked in and she brought out her mother nurse side. “You’re injured and need help. I’m a nurse. Let me assess you.”
His gaze narrowed, the intensity in his eyes focusing on her.
Her heart skipped a beat, but not from fear.
He tried to stand again, but failed and gripped his chest with his free hand. “I have to…leave.”
“The only way you’re going anywhere is in an ambulance. Let me get my phone.” She turned to go, needing to get help on the way as soon as possible.
He gripped her arm, stopping her flight.
Heat and something more, something sensual and powerful flowed between them.
“No!” The word was a low command.
Despite she knew nothing about this man her body responded to his order, her nipples peaking beneath her shirt. Her mind raced. Why did she react to him this way?
She glanced from his face to his hand and back again. He released her, and fell forward, his palm slapping against the wooden floor. “I’m s…sorry. No infirmary.”
Infirmary? That’s an odd word. She blinked. “You need medical attention. A hospital is where you belong—”
She stilled. Blood drained from her face. What if he’s a criminal?
Coop rubbed against her leg. His chest rumbled.
The man’s nostrils flared, and his intense gaze locked onto hers. “Don’t fear. I’m not a danger to you.”
She took a step back, toward the exit. “Are you running from the law?”
A deprecating chuckle eased from his throat then was cut short. As he inhaled, his lungs wheezed. “Not in the way you think.”
“But you are running.”
“I…I need to go.” He rose once again, but couldn’t maintain his balance.
She caught him before he fell. Even with her big bone structure, his weight was almost more than she could bear. “You’re not going anywhere in this condition. You’re coming inside with me, so I can take a look at you. Then, we’ll talk about an ambulance. Okay?”
His nod was all the confirmation she needed.
After finishing a rewarding career in finance and accounting, it was time for Rosalie Redd to put away the spreadsheets and take out the word processor. The award-winning author pens paranormal, science fiction, and fantasy romance in her office cave located in Oregon, where rain is just another excuse to keep writing.