Curse of the Condor (19 page)
Read Curse of the Condor Online
Authors: Elizabeth Rose
This series is followed by my NEW Scottish
Madman MacKeefe
series, with the first book being about the girls’ brother,
Onyx – Book 1
,
who they thought was dead.
Aidan – Book 1
,
is next, followed by my latest new release,
Ian – Book 3
.
You may also be interested in my medieval Elemental Series:
Watch book trailer
The Dragon and the Dreamwalker
,
Book 1: Fire
;
The Duke and the Dryad
,
Book 2: Earth
;
The Sword and the Sylph,
Book 3: Air
; and
The Sheik and the Siren
,
Book 4
: Water.
Or you may want to try my medieval
Legacy of the Blade Series:
Or my
Greek Myth Fantasy Series
:
Watch book trailer video
Thank you, and I am including some excerpts from my novels for your enjoyment.
Elizabeth Rose
Here are a few excerpts from some of my novels.
Excerpt from
Ian – Book 3
(MadMan MacKeefe Series)
Kyla tried to get to her feet, but stopped when Ian’s body blocked the sun streaming in the door as he towered over her.
“Ye jest couldna mind yer own business could ye?” he spat.
“Nay, it’s no’ like thet,” she said, shaking her head. She wanted to say so much more, for starters that she was sorry, but the words just wouldn’t come. He stood above her with his hands on his hips. His chest was study and firm, and his dark, flat nipples were erect in the center, indicating to her that he was still aroused. He reached down a strong arm, and in one motion pulled her upward. From the force her body went crashing into his, and her hands went out to steady herself, landing on his chest. She gasped at the feel of his nakedness under her fingers.
She felt the hot, corded sinew beneath his skin, and she swore a muscle quivered beneath her hands. She slowly looked upward, drinking in his chiseled cheekbones and the dark stubble upon his face. His black hair was tousled and hung down nearly to his shoulders, and his eyebrows were just as dark and bushy. His eyes were the color of hazelnuts, his gaze straightforward and steady. And then she found herself staring at his mouth - his lush, lower lip, and she wondered how it would feel to be kissed by him. To be touched, or teased the way he’d been doing to Grizela.
“Mayhap since ye interrupted yet another o’ me affairs, ye’ll have te replace her now. After all, I’ll no’ be left waitin’ and wanton yet one more time becooz o’ ye, Kyla.”
“What?” she asked, not sure what he was saying. Her heart raced in anticipation. “What do ye mean by thet?”
“I mean, thet ye’ll have te do, as I feel a need fer release.”
Ian only toyed with the little chit, but he had to do something to scare her from following him around and ruining any chance he ever had of getting a proper bedding anymore. He felt frustrated and anxious, and very angry with her for the way she’d been acting lately.
There was only one thing he could think of that would send her running, and after he was through with her, she’d never bother him again. He reached out and grabbed her hand in his, and was surprised when he felt her trembling. She was a small girl, and he had no doubt if he squeezed her hand too hard he’d break a bone. Still, she was as tough as any of the laddies of the clan.
“Ye see how frustrated I am becooz o’ ye?” he asked, guiding her hand toward his groin and pressing her fingers against the plaid covering his bulge. He expected her to pull away and roll her eyes or do any one of those childish things she usually did. Or mayhap crinkle her nose in disgust and wipe off her hand and then punch him as hard as she could. But she did nothing. Instead, her eyes were fastened on his hand atop hers and he could feel the heat of her palm right through the wool to his manhood, and . . . he liked it.
He quickly pushed her hand away. He was very aroused by this and realized it must be because he still hadn’t recovered yet from fondling Grizela. He needed to get Kyla away from him already, and he could only think of one more thing to try that might work. It was the same thing he’d always done to her while she was growing up that made her so disgusted that she’d leave him alone for weeks afterwards. He’d just have to playfully kiss her on the lips. He knew how much she hated that, as she’d told him many times that she’d rather die than touch her mouth to his.
Of course he hadn’t done it in years now, but he could only hope it would still work as well as it used to.
He took her head in his hands and leaned forward and planted the biggest kiss on her lips that he’d ever given her. But she didn’t pull away in fright or disgust and dart out the door of the stable like he’d expected. Nay, she actually did something that surprised him so much that he didn’t know how to react.
When he tried to move away, she reached out and pulled his head back to her, and kissed him so passionately on the lips that he wondered for a moment if he had the wrong girl. Where the hell had she learned how to kiss like that?
Her lips were soft and sensuous. And he felt the tip of her tongue dart out briefly, and when it did, it about drove him from his mind. She smelled like wildflowers and fresh hay, and when he reached out to take her face in his hands again, he felt the softest skin he’d ever felt on a woman. And when she pressed up close to him he felt breasts under her clothes. Firm, rounded, and fully mature, right down to the little bumps darting out and touching his chest from her hardened nipples. This was something he never expected. And certainly not what he wanted to notice on his best friend’s sister when he was standing there still aroused and ready to burst.
Excerpt from
Amber – Book 3
(Daughters of the Dagger Series)
Bowerwood Abbey, England, 1357
Vespers had just finished, and Amber de Burgh of Blackpool, novice of the Sisters of St. Ermengild, blessed herself as the doors to the church slammed open, and in entered the devil himself.
All heads of the congregation of praying nuns and monks turned toward the door, and Father Armand who was conducting the service looked up sharply in surprise.
“Lucifer!” he cried out, startling everyone inside the church. “Bid the devil.”
Commotion broke out and the occupants of the church parted like the Red Sea. The nuns huddled together in a hurry, quickly blessing themselves and praying aloud in the process. The monks gathered together at the other side of the church in silence.
Amber raised her chin looking over the heads of the nuns, surprised to see a man standing in the doorway instead of the horned and hoofed demon she expected to find. A bedraggled man with a chain around his neck and chains on his wrists stood in the entranceway. His legs were spread, and his hands raised up, to stop the doors of the church as they hit the wall and swung back toward him. Lightning illuminated him from behind, and thunder boomed from outside as rain pelted down like a barrage of arrows from the sky, crashing against the stone steps of the church directly behind him.
“Father,” the man said in a low voice through clenched teeth, and Amber knew he was speaking to Father Armand. “I will see you in Hell before I do your bidding again, you bloody bastard!”
Cries of shock went up from the group of nuns around Amber and one of them swooned, ending up prone on the floor in a tangle of her black robes and long veil. Several of the sisters rushed over to assist her. The monks at the other end of the church conversed in hushed whispers behind their hands. Amber curiously made her way from the wooden bench at the front of the church closer to the door to gaze upon this spawn of the devil.
“You are naught but the devil,” shouted the priest. “Lord Jesus Christ, we beg your forgiveness for this possessed man who has entered into your house of worship.” The priest made his way down the steps of the dais, raising his book of prayer to the sky as he walked a straight line toward the angry man.
“God’s eyes, look what you’ve done to me,” spat the devil man in the doorway. That’s when Amber noticed the gashing wound in his side and the trail of blood behind him as he took a step forward.
“You will not use blasphemy in the house of the Lord,” reprimanded Father Armand. “And you will remove yourself from these premises immediately.”
“I will not!” shouted the man the priest had called Lucifer, stumbling forward and catching himself on the edge of a bench, bent over. “I seek refuse and ministrations and dammit to hell I will get what I came for and not be sent away again.” His words were filled with anger and venom, and Amber felt the fear in the room. The nuns cowered together, watching with wide eyes, and the monks huddled together in the shadows. The priest grabbed hold of a tall free-standing iron candleholder, slowly making his way toward the wounded man.
Lucifer had shoulder-length dark blond hair that was soaked from the rain. The water ran in rivulets down his dirtied face and neck, and she could see his coarse, brown tunic ripped down the front and exposing his naked broad chest that was scratched and scarred. His face was covered with a mustache and full beard that made him seem as though he’d been on the road for quite some time. He had a traveler’s bag made of canvas with a long strap slung across his chest that hung down across one side of him. And on his waist he donned a sword and also a dagger. He was bent over now, his hand holding his side, and slowly he stood up, holding up his palm outward for all to see it covered with blood.
Shrieks went up from the nuns, and Sister Dulcina, the abbess, gathered the women closer.
“Get away from him, quickly,” she instructed, moving her large frame in front of them in a protective manner with her arms outstretched as she herded the women together at the front of the church.
Amber had been a novice of the Sisters of St. Ermengild at Bowerwood Abbey and Monastery in Kent for three months now. Her petition to become a nun and live by the ways of God had been granted easily. She supposed ’twas because of the sizeable wealthy dowry that had accompanied her and was eagerly accepted by Father Armand who oversaw the double monastery that housed both nuns and monks. Still, it didn’t matter to her. She’d made her decision to atone for the sins of her family, and she would do whatever it took to ensure an easy path to Heaven for those she loved.
She’d passed her trial month of being a postulant, and was already in training that would last a full year before she took her final vows. She had only nine months left until she would become a full-fledged nun.
She’d come from a noble and wealthy family, being one of the four daughters of the earl of Blackpool. And while her older two sisters, Ruby and Sapphire were married, her twin sister, Amethyst, still resided with her father at home in the castle.
But Amber had decided she would never be married to anyone but God. She would pay for the greed and deceit of her deceased mother who had tried to steal, and also the sins of killing a man and adultery committed by her older sisters. She would devote her life to prayer and helping the less fortunate. She hoped to bring about the grace and forgiveness for her family that was required in order to assure a successful place in God’s domain once they passed on.
“He’s hurt,” said Amber, hurrying across the room towards the man, her instinctive nature to help and serve winning over her fear. She never made it to the man. Father Armand’s arm reached out to block her, his prayer book dropping to the ground in the process at her feet.
“He’s dangerous. Stay away from him,” the priest warned.
“Sister Amber, come join us quickly,” called out the abbess from the other side of the church.
“But ’tis our duty to help the sick and wounded. And to take in travelers on their journey as they pass through.” She bent down to pick up the priest’s prayer book, and from her position she could see the stranger’s face clearly.
Lucifer’s chin was raised slightly, though his body was still bent over and his hand pushed upon his wound to try to stop the flow of blood. His eyes were angry yet captivating at the same time, as they were birdlike, and the lightest blue she’d ever seen. And also the most dangerous. His face held the look of a man gone mad, and his gaze was locked directly on her. She was too frightened to move, and in the same moment, too intrigued to look away. She was staring into the eyes of the devil and she oddly found herself mesmerized by this man though she didn’t understand why.