In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I have a giveaway of a paranormal romance that features an Irish fae heroine and part of the book takes place in Ireland. See that tie in? It's a good one, right?
Below is an excerpt from the book, Destiny United. The heroine, Aila, meets ups with a fae prince who wants to win her heart, except she's unexplainable smitten with an overbearing, overprotective vampire, Marcelo.
Check out my other books at the link to the right or at my website for the first couple chapters of each.
*This giveaway is for one e-book copy of Destiny United. It is open for international readers.
Kieran, in all his fae glory, strolled towards her, hands in the pockets of his khaki linen pants. The billowy button down shirt combined with his flowing slacks made him look like he belonged on the beach of some exotic Caribbean resort, not stalking a fae in the Colorado Rockies. Oh, but he was just as yummy as the last time she’d seen him.
Another immortal male who always looked like he just stepped out of a Calvin Klein advertisement no matter the circumstances? It just wasn’t fair.
He smiled when he spotted her, but as he grew closer his smile faded. Just a few feet away his gaze locked onto her neck. She’d forgotten about the bite mark. Her fingers grazed it self-consciously.
“I’ll kill him,” he said in a dark voice that rivaled Marcelo’s. His black look was a stark contrast to the charming, crooked smile a moment ago. “Just say the word.”
“No. I’m okay.” She forced her hands away from the wound. “I already shot him in the throat.”
Two blonde eyebrows shot up in a look of surprise. “Really?”
“Well, remind me never to get on your bad side.”
She gave him a half-hearted smile.
“So, do you like my gift?”
“Yes, thank you.”
His eyes flickered from her face to the bow still slung over her back. “Can you wield it?”
With a proud smirk she positioned it in her hands. “You tell me.”
Aila had never been the over-confident type, but since becoming fae, that immortal arrogance began rearing its big, ugly head. Besides, why should I be humble about something I’m truly good at? It wasn’t as if she’d ever been good at anything before.
So she might have been showing off a bit when she pointed to a small spot of lichen growing on the bark of a tree half a football field away. The fact that she could even see the thing was amazing in itself. Drawing an arrow from the quiver, she placed it on the bow, pulled the string back, and let loose, smiling at the hum of the arrow piercing through the air. The sound alone was gratifying, but when the arrow sunk into the lichen indicating a perfect shot, she stepped back in satisfaction.
Kieran smiled. “Very good. You're becoming a right fae warrior.” With one big step he was at her side, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his body.
At first glance he looked tall and lean. But up close, she could see the contours of his muscles under his shirt. Different from Marcelo, who was all brawn; this was a perfectly honed athlete.
“I have another gift.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small brown leather strap. “It’s an arm guard.” He held out his hand. Meaning for her to do what?
She stared at it.
With another one of those heart-breaking smiles, he said, “Give me your arm. I won’t bite.”
Tentatively she placed her hand in his.
“Typical American,” he said with a tsk and a smirk. “So mistrustful.”
She wanted to point to her neck as proof of her hesitancy, but the reminder only made her heart hurt. He held her wrist gently and inspected the inside of her forearm. His touch felt like electricity. Marcelo’s touch was gruff, but grounding – safe and secure. But Kieran’s was like a buzz, shooting sparks across her skin. Lightly he smoothed a finger over the welts on her arm. The bow string had snapped against it a few times, forming red stripes on her tender skin.
“Many archers wear an arm guard to protect against this,” he said, then strapped the leather on. She couldn’t stop a small smile forming on her lips. Now she looked like a real kick-ass fae archer. Kieran held her arm a little longer than necessary, adding an uncomfortable awkwardness to the air. She searched for a distraction.
“Hey, what happened to your accent?” she asked. She exhaled a tense breath when he released her.
“I’m sorry, I may have misled you. I don’t really have an accent. I’ve lived in America the past eighteen years. I thought that if I sounded like an Irish fae, you’d trust me easier.”
“Well, I did,” she admitted, making a mental note to be more careful. “What are you doing in America?”
He gave her a weighted glare. “Looking for you.”
He kept his head tipped up in that regal way. “Yes. We’re to be married.”
What? Her shock must have been clear on her face because Kieran burst out laughing. It was so light and carefree she almost laughed with him. Only it wasn’t funny. Arranged marriage? Not for this full-blooded American chick!
“You should see your face!” he said.
She gave him her fiercest scowl.
He cleared his throat and reined in the last of the chuckles. “Don’t look so frightened. I’ve been in America long enough to respect democracy and free will.” With a sardonic smile he added, “I watch Jersey Shore and eat Twinkies with the best of them.” Then he winked.
At once her scowl disappeared. He’s absolutely adorable.
“I won’t be forcing you into anything you don’t want for yourself.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Umm…thanks?”
He chuckled with a superior air that reminded her of Marcelo. “Will you come with me to Méadú ar Neart, the Unseelie fae kingdom?”
She felt a wave of heartache at leaving Marcelo behind, but she was here to meet her destiny. No more hiding in fear. She took a deep breath and nodded. Kieran’s grin was a satisfying reward.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. He held out a metal device and the air in front of them began to change, rippling in the hazy shape of a doorway. Before she could question him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her through, a shocking sensation that left her cold and shivering.
Then she was standing in a patch of green grass, surrounded by rock outcroppings. The sun arched high in the sky but a warm breeze tickled her skin. She shielded her eyes from the blinding sun and looked up at Kieran, her face twisted in confusion. He was still holding her hand.
His smile comforted her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It was easier to show you than to explain.”
“W-what the hell was that?” she whispered as she pulled away.
He held out the device to show her. It was dark metal in a roundish shape the same size as his palm covered with strange etchings. “Ostium Invenire. A Door Maker. It creates shortcuts between places. Like wormholes. A sorcerer who aligned with us commissioned it. As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Unseelie fae have been hunted for centuries. We had to resort to finding any means of defense we can.” He looked down at the device. “Including ones that give us a quick getaway.” Then he shoved it in his pocket.
She gazed at the view around them. Behind her green rolling hills continued as far as she could see. Purple and yellow wildflowers dotted the grassy knolls. It was all so perfectly quaint, like a photo straight out of a coffee table book. She half-expected a herd of sheep to come strolling by.
A steep incline of cliffs towered over them leading to the top of a small mountain. Since she couldn’t see any signs of a fae kingdom, castle, or even a road leading there, she hoped Kieran’s plan didn’t involve climbing over the mountain.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“The home of your ancestors.” His lips quirked as he stared down at her. “Ireland.”
Then the rock before them started to rumble. The cliffs shook and tiny pebbles plunged to the ground below. Aila stepped back as the rock split apart, sliding into the rest of the mountain like a pocket door. Behind the shifting rock a dirt road appeared. And far off in the distance, the Unseelie fae kingdom glistened in the sun. The fortress was a vision of strength, mimicking the cliff face, dwarfing the city below.
“H-how?” she asked, stunned almost speechless.
“Magic, lass.” His mouth curved into a sexy smile. “It’s good to be fae.”
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