Valora Delos is a Hunter, charged with tracking the treacherous Soulstealers and bringing them to justice. Unlike the other fae of her kind, Valora was born with stunted wings that render her flightless, driving her to prove herself in the eyes of King Aric, with whom she has been infatuated since she first set eyes on him as a young prince.
She descends to Earth and finds herself trapped in suburban Seattle after the portal to her world closes. With the help of a sexy half-fae named Dooley, Valora must find her way back to save Dell’Aria. Dooley uses his own brand of magic to help Valora discover memories buried deep within her, which produce more questions than answers- questions about her growing attraction to Dooley and her devotion to her King. Uncovering who the Soulstealers are and who is behind the destruction of Dell’Aria brings Valora a truth she may not be able to handle.
Heat Level: Sizzling Romance. Sensual, sexual and edgy.
He reached over and pulled the chair from my hand, turning it around and placing his hands atop the finials. “Sit down.”
I think I let out a small squeak. I tucked my cloak underneath me as I sat down and tried to position my scabbard so it would not stick out at an awkward angle. I already felt less than graceful. I certainly didn’t need to accidentally stab the King.
I could feel his heat recede as he walked silently away from me. I faced the door to his throne room and didn’t dare turn around to see what he was doing. I heard a drawer open and shut.
“Close your eyes.”
The blood rushed to my head all at once, and I was all too happy to be sitting down because if I had not, I would certainly have fainted then. Facing down a real dragon was easier than facing The Dragon – which was what many called King Aric after he took the dragon as his royal symbol. A symbol that adorned the clasp holding my cloak together.
I jolted in my seat as a brush of cool wet cotton swept across the angry wounds on my upper thigh. The heady scent of fresh rain and morning dew surrounded me as the King knelt before me. A strange scent for a King not allowed outside the walls, but then again this was the first time I had been close enough to catch his scent. I could feel the press of his chest against my bare knees, the warmth of his breath as he placed his face inches from mine.
“Do not speak. I need you to listen to me.”
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About the Author:
Nicolette is a mother, wife, paralegal, writer, knitter, traveler, violinist and anything else she can get her hands on. She turned to writing stories at an early age, when filling out Mad Libs just wasn’t enough.
She enjoys watching dark comedies, warped fairytales, and cheesy 80s comedies. Her interest in music spans from George Winston to Thrill Kill Cult to Bel Canto and U2. She loves to travel, and plans to do more as her son grows older. In her younger days she loved to go out dancing, and you may still, on occasion find her shaking her booty during 80s or goth rock nights at the few clubs they still exist at. She is constantly picking up new hobbies and interests. She knits socks, grows mini cucumbers in her garden, and played the violin for 5 years. She has a pug dog with a nervous temperament and speaks a little Spanish. She’s eclectic.