Defeat the enemy. Claim his enemy's only daughter as forfeit. Guard his heart from temptation. . .
"A battle of wits and wills commences as a relationship blooms between these strong characters. Intrigue concerning the origins of the dangerous drug and the struggle for power combine to create an excellent story!!" 5 Stars
"This story has it all - a mystery to be solved, action, romance and awesome aliens. I could not put it down and I even went over on my lunch hour because I needed to read more." 5 Stars
"Danae and Emma’s Archans are some of the most enigmatic beings in any of the series they have written. Deshua and Bethany’s story of a fight to defeat an unknown foe is full of twists and turns. It’s a story that will make you go back to read the first books in the series!" 4 Stars
". . .fast paced story that's full of non-stop action, feverishly suspenseful and intensely steamy. . ."
". . .Each time I think I read the best, another by this writer comes out. It was so very easy to just sit and read and read and slip effortless into this storyline as well as the time warp that takes place once you get hooked in as a reader. . ."
". . .I love stories of strong, powerful, intelligent black women and Elsday is no expectation!"
". . .There is just something so magical about being able to become so immersed in a story that everything else just fades away for awhile. . ."
WATCH THE BOOK TRAILER FOR STONE LOVER
Either she cures the Prince, or she is sold in marriage to a warrior she doesn’t love….
A Fae assassin vows to kill the warrior Prince determined to win her heart. . .will his love overcome her thirst for vengeance?
A single mom becomes a fighter to survive her lover’s war-like world. A royal warrior sworn to protect the gargoyle Prince wavers in his duty when the woman he loves is threatened.
Excerpt from STONE LOVER: WARRIORS OF STONE, BOOK 1. . .
Surah held up the glass in a one-sided toast. Downed the contents and poured another, this time to savor. The first glass was medicinal, this second for pleasure. "After the day I've had, even you wouldn't blame me."
He paused before replying. "I noticed you are favoring your knee."
"Lavinia sent warriors to have me killed. Well, maybe she was just--"
Malin's glass shattered. Membranous black wings dotted with flecks of silver like a night time sky burst from his back. He doubled over, body twisting as his anger spurred him into a change made painful by his disease.
"Malin! Calm down!" She rushed towards, him, grabbing the remnants of the wineglass from his hand, not thinking, then backed up rapidly.
Surah could only watch as the Prince's gargoyle form straightened slowly, with the care of an old man. Taller by several inches, his shoulders carved from mountains, pearl gray skin gleamed in the soft lamp light. Dark waves brushed below his shoulders, untamed, framing a face as beautiful as it was savage, frightening with gleaming white fangs peeking from under his sensual mouth. She watched carefully as he flexed claws, rustled his wings to check their strength.
"You shouldn't have done that," she said, anger in her quiet statement.
"You're bleeding," Malin replied, low voice guttural from the shift.
Surah cursed and shook her hand, dropping the glass like trash, droplets of red wine and blood perfuming the air. Malin was there, drawing a square, white napkin from a drawer and taking Surah's injured hand in his own. He wrapped the cloth around the hand, pressing it between his two, slightly larger, definitely more callused palms. Inhaling, she struggled to control the expression on her face. Tried to tug away, closing her eyes, but Malin held her fast.
"Be still," he commanded.
The royal line was weakening, no doubt. The entire race was weakening. Many magics they'd once mastered were long lost to them, and the remaining few greatly diminished until all that was really left was the ability to shift, and fly. Only centuries of obsession with species purity allowed even that. Many saw Ciodaru's weakness as an indictment on the entire species. Regardless, though Malin was not the sorcerer he might have been were he born a thousand years ago, he could still, in bursts of unrestrained anger, manifest a kind of telekinesis that could momentarily discomfit an enemy. Or a friend.
"I'm fine," she snapped, tugging. Malin's eyes clashed with her own, a mental tug of war Surah had a feeling she would lose. Because if she were honest with herself, she craved Malin's touch. Was glad for an opportunity to even hold his hand without having to explain herself. But it was too much.
"Malin, let me go."
"What is wrong with you? You're injured."
"Are you nuts? If we were on a training field, you'd have yelled at me for stopping over a scratch."
Malin dropped Surah's hand and took a step back. "My apologies. I didn't know my touch was so abhorrent to you."
Surah's heart stopped. "No! That's not what I meant." She took a deep breath. "Look--"
Malin turned away, slashing a hand in the air. "No matter. Why did she try to kill you?" He paused, glanced back at Surah. "Or frighten you, rather. Mogrens don't miss."
