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Archaean bounty hunter Marek Coinnich isn't particularly fond of Engels. In fact, he prefers them dead. But to save his injured brother, he must enter the manor of an Engel enemy. Marek finds himself enthralled by the slave girl nursing his brother back to health. When his enchantment with her lands them in a compromising position, he refuses to let the young beauty pay for the misunderstanding with her life.
Brynn of Galhaven prefers to keep to the shadows. When she is ruined by an outsider, she barely escapes with her life and finds herself left alone in an unforgiving land. Through her struggles to survive, Brynn discovers a world she never imagined and never forgets the enemy Archaean who stole her heart.
Marek can’t deny his desire for Brynn, but these are wartimes, and she is the enemy. And though love knows no prejudice, the world in which he lives isn’t nearly as forgiving.
Now enjoy an excerpt:
It was the scream that caught his attention, the sound of pure terror. A woman’s ultimate terror — he’d heard it many a time throughout his hardened life. For a quick moment, Marek’s eyes shifted in search of the treeline instead of the soldier he battled. The swing of an Engel sword narrowly missed his shoulder and sent him staggering backward on his heels. Marek barely escaped the bone-crushing blow. The soldier advanced on horseback, whereas Marek battled on foot. Regaining his stance, he blocked the Engel’s next blow with only seconds to spare. He couldn’t focus — he worried for her safety. Damn woman. He was going to get himself killed.
Marek was torn between the two battles. Did he attempt to fight the man he engaged, praying Brynn could fend off her attacker until he could reach her, or did he make a run for her, hoping to surpass his own battle? Given another few minutes, Marek would slay his opponent. Another scream sent him reeling. The Engel held a blade high above her.
Damn, she won’t be afforded another few minutes. He was out of time, and no risk was greater than that of her life. Narrowing his eyes, Marek charged his opponent and wrenched him to the ground. The soldier, caught off guard, slid from the saddle, dropping his weapon. With one swift jerk, Marek’s sword slid along the man’s throat, severing it. A wild fray of blood spurted at the sky as the body slumped to the ground. Marek spun on his heels to race across the field.
Losing his footing to the slick mud, he skidded to his knees, realizing he’d never make it to her side in time. The soldier would have the dagger in her chest before he could intercept. Marek fumbled for the protruding handle of the knife still wedged in his boot. Finding it, he pulled the blade from its sheath. With his heart racing and his hand oddly trembling, he whirled the knife into the back of the soldier’s skull.
Melissa enjoys writing everything from sexy, sword-toting heroes to spit-out-your coffee funny romantic comedies. Her passion lies within the ancient walls of fantasy and historical romance, where anything is possible.
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