Oops!

Hello, friends and fans!

Going through edits for our upcoming new release, we realized something shocking! All this time, we've just assumed people already knew that all our novels take place in the same fantasy world and are (somewhat) connected! Oops, I guess we should have been clearer on that point. Anyway, there it is. If you want a quality fantasy series from an original world with romance that keeps the bedroom door open, then look no further than the world of Gilalion!

Also available at evernight, b&n, all romance, and bookstrand.


Thanks so much for your support! Look for the fourth novel in the series, Love Comes Twice, coming June 2012!

"Chasing Earth and Flame" will soon be here!

We're only a week away from the April 2nd release of our third novel, Chasing Earth and Flame, from Evernight Publishing! To get everyone in the mood, we'd like to share with you an excerpt from this story so hot you'll need to wear fireproof gloves just to hold your e-reader!

Check it out...


BLURB
Nevia Akara Judal is the daughter of the First House of Nirrion, but though she is both a powerful elemental mage and a cunning political mind, she is her father's property. She is promised to Melenius, the only other noble elementalist in the city, but she is not certain she approves of her father's choice. She has a stronger will than anyone has ever given her credit for, and she is determined to find and keep the love of the only man who can conquer her heart of earth and flame.

EXCERPT

Melenius caught Nevia by the arm and pulled her into a curtained alcove.

“We will be seen,” Nevia whispered.

Melenius shook his head. Cena was due to begin in a few minutes, so he had to work quickly.

“This won’t take long.” He produced the anal plug he had shown her on their honeymoon.

It was Nevia’s turn to shake her head.

“Yes,” Melenius said. He pulled out a vial of scented oil from his small shoulder bag. Nevia’s frosty eyes widened, and he smiled in his airs at her coyness. He poured the oil over the plug, then rubbed it around the head and down its length. “Turn around.”

Nevia did so, but she kept her eyes on her husband. Melenius had never seen anything sexier than his beautiful wife looking over her shoulder with fear and anticipation trembling in her elements as he hitched up her dress. Her fine, white ass was just what he wanted, and his cock hardened. He considered taking her right there, but the sound of music coming from the atrium made him think better of it. The entertainment had arrived. Dinner was imminent, and they would be missed if they were not punctual.

Melenius dabbed a bit of oil on the rosebud of Nevia’s anus and rubbed it around with his thumb. Nevia moaned.

“Quiet!” Melenius’s tone was half serious, half mirthful.

He pressed the tip of the lubricated plug against her ass and slowly applied pressure. He did not at once break her wall, and he was surprised at her body’s unwillingness to allow entry. With a stronger but still gentle push, he felt the pop as the plug slipped into her back passage.

Nevia’s knees buckled, but she did not collapse. The temperature in the alcove plummeted, and though Melenius knew her fires were stoked, she fixed him with an icy glare.

Nevia stood and let her skirts fall back into place. “You dare toy with the ass of an Akara?” She raised her hand to slap Melenius, but he caught her by the wrist.

Melenius lightly bit that wrist as he tweaked her nipple with his other hand. “Now, go be a good girl, and eat your supper.” He opened the curtain and slapped her ass on the way out.

Nevia continued to murder him with her eyes, but her elements betrayed her increasing desire. He sensed her laughter on his winds.

Cena was an elaborate affair, much more so than Melenius would have expected for just a one-night stay in a provincial town. As exotic, half-naked slaves from far-away lands juggled fire sticks before them all, Melenius turned to Judal the Younger.

“I wonder, why all this?” he asked. He popped a fresh, green olive in his mouth.

Nevius, reclined on one elbow, sipped his mulled wine and answered without taking his eyes from the entertainment. “We are returning from a great victory. Though Belamal presses forward, there will be glory for us upon our return to Nirrion. Why not celebrate a little? This is my father’s villa, after all.”

“Fair enough.”

“Enjoy yourself, Firin,” Nevius said. “You and my sister are saviors of the republic.” Nevia’s couch was situated close to his so that their heads would be near each other for conversation. He leaned over and kissed her brow.

Melenius, on the other side of the low table laden with rich food, watched this sibling exchange, knowing that her ass was plugged, that her cunt was probably wet as spring rains.

Nevia betrayed nothing; she could not to her brother, anyway, but neither did her elements. She was cool, collected, and calm. Melenius nodded in her direction, raised his cup in a silent toast to her, and drank its contents. A slave refilled his cup at once. Nevia, playing at human expressions, narrowed her eyes at him. Melenius almost choked on his next drink.

Radish salads and oysters gave way to hot-boiled goose and songbirds with asparagus. Between the appetizers and the main course, clowns had come to re-enact the battle of Vieta. The actor who pantomimed Belamal wore comical armor, and his gold-painted face twisted in all manner of melodramatic expressions.

Nevius ripped hot, juicy meat from the bone with his teeth. “Belamal Triumphant, to be sure.” His mouth was half-full of goose. “Too bad Garalach isn’t here. He could’ve made your job in Vieta easier.”

Melenius felt the instant drop in temperature, and the braziers that burned around them dimmed.

“More wood.” Nevius snapped his fingers at the nearest slave.

Nevia did not look at Melenius. Her eyes were fixed on the small plate she held on her lap. The name of Garalach clearly upset her, and Melenius wanted to go to her, to hold her and remind her of how he had been deceived. He had never stopped loving or wanting Nevia. It had not been his intention to betray her.

But Nevia would not return his glance.

The sun disappeared from the sky, and a cold wind blew through the peristyle and into the atrium.

****

Step into our fantasy world of Gilalion with our other novels, Worth His Freedom and Bride for the God-King. Let these books whet your appetite for more!

Pulled in Many Different Directions

What with the release of Worth His Freedom in early November and then Bride for the God-King in late December, we feel like we're being pulled this way and that with all the interviews, guest blog spots, and reviews. Oh, no, we're not complaining. Keep pulling! We're loving every minute of it.
This week's samplings of Adonis Devereux come from Katherine Wyvern's glowing review of Worth His Freedom, Emma Shortt's gracious guest blog post, and Tory Michaels' lovely interview.

Release of "Bride for the God-King"

It is our pleasure to announce the release of Bride for the God-King, our second novel set in the fictional world of Gilalion.

The telepath Elemia has spent her whole life training for her chance to marry the god-king in his far-away capital, but then she meets Abbas—and everything comes apart as they fall for each other.

As a half-breed, Abbas is barely tolerated by his own people, and Elemia is cast out of her order of novices for being with him. As punishment, Elemia is to be sold in marriage to Abbas' older brother, though her mind has already joined with Abbas'. The lovers would do anything to avoid this untenable situation, but even if they escape, they will still have to deal with the god-king.

Excerpt:

Abbas laid out the pieces of clothing: first a thin, white smock, then a tight, blue bodice with laces that he laid on top. He also showed her two skirts, one slightly longer than the other. They were woven in red and blue patterns. “And, of course, your riding boots. You will find yourself ahorse more often than on foot.” Abbas was thrilled that he could teach Elemia about his ways. “I'll step outside. When you've tried these on, call me back in.” He did not want to go. He wanted to stay and admire the lithe body she had hidden under her robes.

“Thank you, Abbas. Yes, I will call you back in.” But she did not move toward the clothes. She simply stood and gazed at him.

Abbas tore himself away, not trusting himself to study her body further, and his head spun as he closed the door behind him. Ahketh was standing there scowling at him, and Abbas's euphoria evaporated. The Ausir knight represented everything that separated him from Elemia: the Order and its absolute control over her life, and the enforced marriage to Cathal.

“I hate you,” Abbas growled.

Ahketh chuckled. “I am not too fond of you, either, half-breed. The sooner we are away from each other, the better.”

Abbas brooded until he heard Elemia calling his name, more quickly than he had expected.

“What's the matter?” he said through the door.

“I need help. I am not sure what to do with this–this thing.”

Abbas's gaze darted to Ahketh's face. What would the knight think of him helping Elemia with her clothes? But Ahketh did not seem to care. He was staring off into the space before him.

Abbas re-entered the room, wondering if he might find Elemia half-naked. Instead, he found her fully dressed in the shift and skirts. In her hand, she held the bodice.

“Not bad for a first try.” He laughed a little louder than he felt, trying to cover his surprise. Elemia's breasts were round and full, larger than he had anticipated. He could make out little else save the slim curves of her hips. He cleared his throat, approached, and took the bodice. “This goes on before the skirts, and part of it tucks under them. May I?”

Elemia spread her arms out wide and looked wonderingly into Abbas's eyes. “Please.”

Her innocence and trust both aroused Abbas to fever pitch and hardened his resolve to abuse neither. “Here, let me.” Abbas reached out and loosened Elemia's skirts, untying them and letting them fall to the floor. The shift went to her knees. He admired the shape of her leg, strong and lean, as it disappeared up into her smock. But then he saw the tattoo, and the creeping ivy across her ankle brought him up short.

“The chieftain said my ivy will never bloom.” Elemia must have read his thoughts, or, more likely, his disappointment was plain on his face.

Abbas took what comfort he could in that promise and continued his work. He clasped the bodice around Elemia's waist and laced it from the bottom up. He worked slowly. He wanted to take his time and enjoy the feel of her flesh beneath his hands. With each pull of the lace, Elemia's form became more defined, more visible to Abbas's appreciative eye. Elemia was slender and small, but the fullness of her breasts reminded him that she was not a child. The bodice stopped short under her bosom, leaving them covered only by the shift. As he tied off the lace at the top, his gaze traced the outline of her firm breasts. Her erect nipples were visible through the thin fabric.

“Is it too tight?” Elemia asked. “I cannot really breathe.”

Abbas knew that the bodice was not too tight. “It's fine. It just takes some getting used to. You've spent your life in a flowing robe.” It pleased Abbas to think that Elemia was becoming as aroused as he, for if anything was too tight, it was his breeches, straining to contain his erection. He slowly knelt and picked up the skirts, raising them around Elemia's hips, letting his hands brush against her buttocks.

Elemia sighed and reached out to tuck a stray braid back behind Abbas's ear. As he wrapped the skirts around her waist, Abbas could feel Elemia moving against him. She was reacting the way her body wanted her to, but she was ignorant of the ways of sex. He realized had she known, she would have kept a tighter rein on her physical response. Abbas smiled to himself and tied the skirts in place, looping the belts through the bodice according to Rolador fashion. He stepped away from her then to appraise her, but he made sure he kept his hands folded in front of his straining breeches. “I have never seen a lovelier chieftainess.” He had never seen a lovelier woman. It still amazed him that others did not see Elemia's beauty.

“You flatter me.” Elemia smoothed down the bodice. “It is kind of you to think so. You are the perfection of two races, more beautiful than either alone.”

Abbas was glad to hear the voices of Volshaden and Jhaleed in the antechamber. He could not trust himself any longer in the room with Elemia, for he wished to seize her, rip the bodice from her breasts, and lick her rosy nipples. He wanted to throw her on the bed, tear off her skirts, and thrust his throbbing phallus into her. He knew that her body would accept him; surely it had already prepared itself. She would wrap her legs around his hips and pull him in deeper, all the while devouring his mouth with her own.

“They are calling us.” Elemia brought Abbas back to reality.

Mark your calendars!

We just got word from Evernight: December 26th! Just in time for your holiday reading. What great timing! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

The telepath Elemia has spent her whole life training for her chance to marry the god-king in his far-away capital, but then she meets Abbas – and everything falls apart as they fall for each other. Derided as a half-breed, Abbas is barely tolerated by his own people, and Elemia is cast out of her order of novices for being with him. As punishment, Elemia is to be sold in marriage to Abbas' older brother, though her mind has already joined with Abbas'. The lovers would do anything to avoid this untenable situation, but even if they escape, they will still have to deal with the god-king.