Thursday, November 13, 2008

Royal Consort - an excerpt...

Today has started off strange in some ways, I’ve just been offered a contract with a new publisher for me, and even the genre is a bit different for me. I’ve taken traditional adventure fantasy, the kind of quest-type thing that was born with LOTR or The Sword of Shannara books, and tossed in romance and a touch of the erotic… As a mixed genre it sounds pretty wild, doesn’t it? The story is called Royal Consort and you’ll hear more about it in coming months once I have it on my website.

One of the great joys of ePublishing is the opportunity to walk outside the traditional realms of fiction, to mix it up a little, and see what falls onto the page. In this case, a bit of sorcery, swords, epic quest, sibling rivalry, a handsome prince, and a magical world in jeopardy. How’s it sounding to you so far?

Here’s a peek at the tale, so please do let me know if you think this is a thing that will work, or just one of those weird things that should have been left alone????

ROYAL CONSORT - an excerpt:

Rienn nodded. When his hands on her waist moved her, she shivered as he slipped free of her body. “I’ll order a bath and some food,” he told her.

She grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “Later. I want you to hold me.”

Rienn stretched out and pulled her down to him, spooning her body to his when he pressed her back to his chest.

It seemed they’d only slept for minutes when the huge doors of the Prince’s chambers were flung open and the spacious room was invaded by numerous men, all bearing swords.


The word was a warning, and Sherindal slithered from the bed as soon as he released her. She scooped up her sword as she rolled, oblivious to her nakedness as she whirled to face the first rush of the attack. Somewhere through the early morning hours since they’d made love, Rienn had thought to retrieve his breeches, she noted from the corner of her eye. He had managed to gain his weapon as well, and they fought, back to back.

Sherindal hissed in fury and pain when the second of the men who engaged her slipped past her defense and inflicted a wound near her waist. It was a surface injury and she quickly rewarded him by slicing off his sword hand. Howling in agony, he toppled back, then fled as he recovered his footing several feet away from her.

Rienn had killed two men and was about to run through the third when Sherindal’s voice filled the room and the sword she wielded, called Huntor, rose with her song. The attackers froze momentarily, those two who remained, and she smiled with grim pleasure as the weapon cut them down, then drifted back to her outstretched hand, coming to rest in her grasp with near peaceful ease.

“Your blood-thirsty weapon has been sated nicely this morning,” Rienn observed with a tense glance at the gleaming blade.

“Who are they?” she asked, her tone as cold as her emerald eyes when she met his gaze.

“Why would you assume I know?” he retorted instantly. “This is hardly what I would consider an invigorating start to the day!”

“Really?” She smiled without humor. “It is one of the more interesting diversions you might have provided, Rienn.” Her laughter was faintly mocking, and not a little bit ironic.

Rienn’s handsome features suffused with rage and he reached for her, gripped her bare arm with fingers that dug into her flesh like steel bands.

“You evil bitch,” he whispered darkly.

Sherindal smiled, and this time it was genuine. She nodded, kissed his chin, the closest she could get to his mouth from her severely disadvantaged height, then she gasped as a fiery lance of pain reminded her of the slash near her left hip.

“Enough, Rienn,” she capitulated.

He released her, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the centre of the feathered mattress of his bed. He looked closely at the injury, yanked the bell pull near the bed, and then went to the heavy wardrobe at the far end of the chamber.

His guards were rushing along the corridor when he returned to the bed and helped Sherindal into one of his linen shirts. She bit her bottom lip against another stab of pain, and laughed in macabre amusement when she spotted the duo who entered the room.

“They look rested enough, my love,” she muttered, eyes chilly and contemptuous.

Rienn glared at her, then turned an even fiercer visage to the men who should have prevented the assault on his private rooms.


  1. A fiery and passionate read! Readers will LOVE it!

    Marquete Williams

  2. A beautiful, lyrical work of Fantasy. I know it will do well!


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