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EXCERPT
LILITH ENRAPTURED
Copyright © MICHELLE M. PILLOW,
2009
Sorin took
several deep breaths, feeling as he did when about to go into battle. Heat
filled him as tension worked its way into his limbs. With a single thought, he
could will his body to spring into action. He could erase her from the world and
end this before it started.
But it was
too late. He was lost the moment he’d looked at her, had seen her big blue eyes
staring at him in trepidation. No, he was lost before that, when he
felt her looking at him, beckoning him with her unwavering gaze to find her
in the crowd.
Temptress.
Witch.
He willed
the desire inside him to go away. It shouldn’t have been so strong. He’d
relieved himself like he always did, had spilled his seed to ease the lonely
ache.
Light from
the fireplace shone through the white of her gown, silhouetting the long length
of her legs and arms. The linen clung to her shoulders, swooping gently along
the curves of her breasts—breasts that would be bare beneath. The tied hands
were a new addition to the ceremony, thanks to Sir Aidan’s wayward woman, Lady
Paige. Sorin’s barbaric side found he liked the
addition.
Hunger
rushed into every limb, lifting his cock beneath the long tunic. He didn’t think
to hide the reaction. No one would care. It had been so long, so very long,
since he’d had a woman in his bed. He suppressed a groan. Soft flesh. Round
breasts. Taut nipples. Slick, warm vessel to catch his passion. That certain
female smell when he pressed his nose to her sex.
A
thought whispered in the back of his mind. Maybe
she’s different. Maybe she’ll be better. Maybe this one will stay.
He cursed
the thought. No. She wasn’t different. She wasn’t better.
Sorin had made up his mind long ago. He’d come, he’d look, but he never,
ever wanted to find someone. He wasn’t meant to have this, or her, or any kind
of peace. Sorin was born into a land of war. He was
made for it, every piece of him. One of the bloodiest battles in their history
happened the very hour his mother gave birth to him.
Some were
lucky to find peace in marriage, but not him. Tradition and necessity dictated
he come to these ceremonies and try to find someone. He came from a noble line,
a position of power, one that demanded he have sons to carry on his family’s
name. But society could not make him choose. It could not make him step forward
and lay claim.
“Mine.”
Where did
that word come from? It sounded like his voice, booming over the hall to quiet
all who watched into stunned silence. It felt like his body refusing to go to
his place at the table, instead moving forward with arm uplifted to point at the
blonde-haired beauty. But it couldn’t be his body or his voice. That would mean
he’d just announced his claim. Everyone would have heard it. He couldn’t back
out once the word was said.
“Sorin?”
his younger brother, Ronen, hissed. Like Sorin, Ronen led one of the more renowned armies in
all of Staria. Very few would dare to challenge
their word or honor and the fact made it even more
impossible for Sorin to take back what he’d done.
“Mine,” Sorin found himself repeating. Was he possessed?
What madness was this? He kept walking toward her. She merely stared at him,
those wide, gorgeous eyes capturing his. Straight blonde hair hung long down her
back, just as a woman’s should.
“Brother?”
Ronen questioned. The shock was evident in his voice. Sorin
couldn’t blame him for the surprise because that very day he’d been instructing
Ronen to stay strong and not fall for a woman’s pretty face. And what did Sorin do? He claimed a woman with a pretty face.
The hall
remained quiet. Sorin stopped before the woman,
noting with pleasure that she didn’t cringe and fall away from his looming
presence. Her strength would serve her well. Years of frustrated desires surged
inside him. He couldn’t put them off any longer. Deny it as he might, he needed
a woman. He would never admit the words out loud. The need was not just for
physical release, but for the softness of her, the sweet smell and the temporary
relief from the endless fighting that such a creature could bring.
You
tried this before, Sorin. Such things are not for
you.
Fool.
Idiot.
Weak.
His accusing
thoughts infuriated. Reaching for her bound arms, he took hold of the ropes. Not
even his condescending inner voice could stop his actions.
Sorin held her gaze steady, stating so she couldn’t mistake his claim,
“You are mine.”
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the
author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living
persons or events is merely coincidence.
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REVIEWS
4.5 Nymphs! Michelle M. Pillow
writes about lust, survival, betrayal, and love in Lilith Enraptured. ... I
definitely enjoyed this story and look forward to reading more about this
dimension and other warriors finding a suitable wife." Literary Nymphs Reviews, April 2009
4.5 Stars! "If you are looking for a series depicting strong
and determined women who lead with not only their hearts but also their
minds and bodies, this is a series you want to embrace." Bitten by Books,
December 2009
"I thoroughly enjoyed the interactions
between the characters in Lilith Enraptured and felt the novel has a steady
fast pace that will keep the reader interested." - Joyfully Reviewed, May 2009
"4.5 Stars!
Lilith Enraptured is (an) amazing story to
make your mind run. Beautifully written and able to capture your attention
(...). I love when things make my mind work and keep me entertained at the
same time. Lilith Enraptured is able to do this and more." -
Diana, Night Owl Romance
"4 HEARTS! This very talented author gives her
readers a story that is so hot, the monitor is in danger of melting. This is
the kind of hero I love to read about....can highly recommend this book if
you like a sexy fantasy, with a hero to drool over." - LoveRomances, August 2009
"4 Angels! Lilith Enraptured
is a brand new fantasy that will steam up the windows and have the readers
begging for more...I cannot wait to see what will happen next." Sonya,
Fallen Angel Reviews
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