Yes, I've been MIA for awhile and I can only say I've been extremely busy. With what you may ask? Well, my third novel from my Lycan Princes series is finished and I started a new MMMF series that is coming soon, but that will be another story to share later on!
So the big news today is that it's RELEASE day for His Forever (The Lycan Princes 3) at http://www.bookstrand.com/his-forever. I'm so excited and I'm proud of this story. I had a lot on my plate while writing this novel BUT I did it and now I'm just smiling! Here are a few treats for everyone to enjoy. Take care and cheers!
Lennox Ursa has a problem. When he turns one hundred years old, he’ll undergo his species' Maturity Cycle. Since he’s single and practically celibate, the chances of him finding a mate in the next few hours to stop an agonizing transition into adulthood is nil. In a desperate attempt to save his life and soul, the Lycan King sends Lennox to the remote planet Ooroon.
Neophyte of the Bengardi order, Theolle has his own problems to deal with than taking care of a Newcomer. Bad things happen to him when he heals and he knows this warrior will hurt him the most. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a choice since the head of the order issues an order for Theolle to save the warrior. Reluctant, Theolle obeys, but discovers something terrifying about the Newcomer.
There is something about Lennox that will alter their fates. Only if Theolle is brave enough to sacrifice his sanity for the warrior.
He blew out a hefty breath, rubbed his face, and hissed sputtering a string of curses when the sweet-smelling oil on his hands smeared over his lips and stung his eyes. That shit hurt!
“Dammit,” he cursed, squeezing his eyes tighter and frantically slapping the wooden table searching for the Dimsham cloth.
His hands clawed at the soft material. He continued to whimper from the sting in his eyes and the gradual numbing of his lips. Carefully, Theolle rubbed the slick oil from his eyes, taking his time to keep as much of the oil from them as possible. Gingerly opening one eye and rapidly blinking before he opened the other, he noticed that everything was hazy.
“Now that’s just great,” he said, looking around the room sheepishly.
Yeah, still empty, no other being to witness his foolhardy actions. Funny thing, as much as he didn’t want to be alone, even though he liked being alone, he was glad he was alone. Ah, crap did that even make sense, he thought ruefully.
Well, it was only three days of him chanting, three days of drawing healing symbols with funky-smelling oils on a body that was just plain too sinful to be normal, three days of talking to himself to alleviate the boredom and sadly answering back. It was three days of self-imposed hell.
Theolle’s blue eyes strayed to Lennox.
“Come on, you big, luscious male, wake up so I can have someone to talk to besides me and the circus inside my brain,” Theolle halfheartedly pleaded.
He leaned away and waited, chewing his bottom lip, eyes expectant, bright with hope. The minutes dragged on and his eyes dulled. Nope, not even a twitch.
“Damn,” he mumbled.
His shoulders slumped before he shuffled to a separate table and snatched a drawstring pouch. Whoop-di-do, more chanting and drawing to do, he reluctantly thought.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about helping you, big guy, but then again, you try being alone for three days. It’s boring and lonely. You should be up by now, Lennox,” Theolle lightly admonished the sleeping giant.
Theolle studied Lennox’s still form before he opened the pouch. Inside the leather sack was iridescent powder that was silky soft to the touch. He reached inside and carefully grabbed a handful and pulled it out. He took the fine powder and sprinkled it over the glistening oils that covered Lennox’s chest and belly.
He paid special attention, liberally covering the incantation symbols that cover Lennox’s torso, making sure to set the strange drawings.
The powder glowed in the Fire rock light, casting each symbol into a warm glow of sparkle and glitter. His eyes roamed the chiselled landscape that haunted his dreams until his eyes bulged at the sight.
“What the hell is this?” he gasped.
Gritting his teeth, Theolle softly cursed.
Neatly drawn on Lennox’s massive muscular chest was an equally massive Happy Face.
“Oh crap, what did I do now?”
He scrunched his face up, cringing, and he reached to wipe away the glitter and oil, but paused. An impish gleam sparkled in his eyes. He looked around, even though he was alone with only Lennox in the chamber, and nibbled his lip with indecision.
Unable to help the sudden urge, he dipped his forefinger in the pouch and carefully drew beside the Happy Face. His eyes narrowed with concentration and the tip of his tongue peeked out from his lips.
See, I knew you had that artistic bug in you, cutie.
“Shut up,” Theolle grumbled at the disembodied voice. He leaned back with lopsided grin on his unique features and released a giggle.
Yeah, he was a lousy artist. Stick figures were his claim to fame. Warmth filled his blue eyes before he dipped his finger in the pouch again. Iridescent powder coated the tip of his finger. He lightly traced his drawing on Lennox’s chest, filling in the two stick figures holding hands with the powder.
“There.” He grinned. “This’ll be between you and me, Lennox.”
As he pulled away, Theolle froze when he stared into the open eyes of deep chocolate brown framed in thick, sooty lashes. His breath caught in his chest and gave his heart a gentle squeeze before his breath blew out in a gasp.
“Lennox?” was all Theolle managed to say before a callused hand grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to the waiting mouth.
Theolle’s eyes widened before they fluttered closed when his lips pressed firmly to the soft mouth. He shivered and let loose a soft moan, surrendering to his first kiss.
The weight of the hand at his neck eased. The buttery-soft firmness of the mouth made his lips tingle and ache before the unyielding surface slackened. Theolle pulled away, softly panting. He swallowed a shaky breath and he opened his eyes to find the warrior beneath him unconscious again.
Stumped, he shook his head, leaned back and distanced himself from Lennox. He gingerly touched his lips, still feeling the gentle pressure of his first kiss. Shivering from the incredible sensation, he licked his lips, moaned from the residual taste of crushed cloves and spicy cinnamon unique to Lennox Ursa, and smiled. His smile wavered and faded when he reminded himself that Lennox was lost to him.
Upset, Theolle brokenly asked, “Why did you do it, Lennox? Why did you give me my first kiss? Now I will forever know your taste.”
Crushed, Theolle shook his head and turned away. He thought the emotions he felt earlier were gone. He was so wrong that it physically cramped his belly, knowing that his first kiss with his fated mate was his last.