eBook

• Smashwords, ISBN: 978-1-4581-9438-1
• B&N Nookbook, ID#: 2940011989230 

Death marred their histories, but passion and purity imbued their futures with hope.

Serra | Book 1

Serra Latienne. The last of her kind, the Mago. Instinctual creatures of magic. Birthed by its power.

Immortal.

Now that power has vanished, escaping to a realm beyond until mankind is once again ready. Hollow aches are left in its wake, and Serra is unable to grasp the complete and utter change to her soul… until a black shadow begins to whisper from the cold silence of her mind.

Will insanity save her from the chill of emptiness? Or will Eben, King of Grabin, save her before she sinks into chaos?

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Sample:

Serra stared out at the fading sun with unseeing violet eyes. A tear slid down her pale cheek, and she lowered her head as the breeze ruffled the light green waves of her hair. She could still feel the thrill of freedom when she let her memories drift to the days that she’d been free to soar.

Today an odd hollowness troubled her.

Serra breathed deep of the fresh air that caressed her face and knelt upon a grassy patch of ground. She picked a strange white flower and stared down at it as the wind whistled in her ears.

A part of her soul felt broken from the rest of her, leaving nothing but a chasm of a mysterious need. Serra lifted her violet eyes to the horizon. At times an invisible hand grasped her heart, pulling with such ferocity that it pained her soul. Who could it belong to?

She tossed the flower aside, her quick breath of exasperation startling a field mouse investigating a bit of crumb. How could she ask her friends when the very question would ring of insanity? Serra lay back— she blinked up into the handsome face of the young King of Gradin, his blue eyes aglow with his smile.

She sat up. “Eben!”

Eben bowed deep. His lips curved in a boyish smile, the intelligent arch of his blond brows enhancing the regal chisel of his features. He flourished his bow with a swath of his ever-present cape. “At your service, my lady. Your wish is my command.”

Laughter bubbled forth as Serra sprung to her feet and embraced him, the warmth of his presence inviting a feeling of safety. “It is so good to see you! But what are you doing here?”

“I have come to see you.” Eben gently pressed her hand with his.

Serra’s cheeks flushed. “You came to see… me?”

“You, my lady, are the light of my heart. How could I stay away from that?”

“Eben…. Why do you always tease?” she said, giggling. But his long pause stole away her smile. “Eben?”

His lips tilted upward. “I continue to forget you knew me when I was more cad than gentleman. I apologize, Serra. Running a kingdom well depends upon a certain level of… charm, and I am the king after all.”

“In more ways than one.”

__________

Ace of Diamonds | Book 2

Galen Luciano. Ship captain. Gambler. Lover of women and the feel of the wind in his air. Years ago he loved and lost. Determined to never again feel the agony of despair, he loves all women no matter their walk of life. But should they begin to clamor too much for his presence, he weighs anchor.

Before the war he experienced a passionate affair with the region’s star of the operatic stage. After the war, the desire to re-introduce himself into her life builds… and then he meets fellow ship captain, Maree. Her black hair and sultry curves goad his passions to life once more, and she welcomes the intensity of his attentions.

But when a friend stumbles into a dire emergency, he is thrust into the path of suspicions that lead him to an unexpected introduction.

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Sample:

“People like us don’t click with just anyone.”

Galen lowered himself into the chair across from his desk. His eyes couldn’t release hers of luscious mahogany brown. “No, I suppose we don’t.”

Marée submerged the tip of the dagger into the desk blotter and leaned forward. “You said you were tired. Maybe that’s the problem. Faye said you and a bunch of others had just got Serra out of a fix and it was touch-and-go with her for a while. Maybe that was it. Maybe you think I’m the one who gave the guy his stuff. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just after you because you’re the first man to say ‘not yet’ and then ‘no’. I don’t know that either. All I know is I want you, Galen. Like a storm on the ocean, you make my blood roar.”

Galen finally lowered his eyes from hers, those compelling and entrancing reasons to lock the door and surrender… “And what then, Marée? After the roar has quieted and the fire has waned; when I’ve become yet another face on your wall of conquests and adventures, what then?”

Marée kicked back again. “Who gives a curdled care? We’ll have had the adventure. Besides, who says it’ll fade? Didn’t I tell you I would have dropped any other man who pushed my buttons like you did? I haven’t, have I? Here I am. My tight little ass in your chair asking you to show me what you’re made of.”

Galen raised his eyes to hers, but his soul balked. “There’s more to this gambler captain than the pleasure I give to a woman in bed, Marée.”

One side of her lips tilted. “Let’s find out just how much more. I’m up to the adventure. What about you?”

Galen actually frowned with a flash of annoyance. “And after I satisfy that need? What next? A quick fix here; a snatch of passion there; a planned day with whispered encouragements at the height of passionate moaning? Shallow snatches of conversation as we strip off our clothes and fulfill the other’s lust for meaningless intimacy? What is that but sallow and empty adventure— adventure? Bah! More an addiction than an adventure, in my mind.”

Marée’s face hardened as her eyes sparked. “You better watch what you say and how you say it, captain.”

Galen pulled at the reins of his temper. “I don’t mean it as an insult, Marée. We must each live our life as we feel we need to live it, but as for me? Distractions and futureless ecstasies are pointless. I thought perhaps you could be a haven of sorts for me when I’d had enough of the wandering, but I see now that you aren’t finished with your own wanderlust. There are more adventures waiting for you.” He stood. “I’m sorry, Marée, but my ship and I need a home port. A haven to rest our weary souls. It’s unfair of me to expect that from you.”

Marée gauged him for a long and intense moment before standing and making her way close beside him. Her eyes sparkled with a chorus of desires and promises, just as her lips did. “One last chance, captain. I heard what you said, but I think it’s dragon piss. You’ve an adventurer’s heart. Your soul longs for freedom. Why would you willingly anchor–“

”No anchor,” Galen corrected. “Only a place to call home. A dock to return to at each journey’s end. A welcoming port.”

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