Framed and running for his life,
Traveller Devereaux decides to follow his missing brother Dancer, using the clues
he left behind when he disappeared. They lead Traveller to the mysterious Mystic Valley
where the people are blue, the flora and fauna are decidedly odd, and the
mating customs are definitely different.
On his journey to the Valley, he is
injured in a serious accident that traps him in a cave with his best friend,
Bishop. Bish finds the hidden tunnel leading to the valley and takes Traveller
to safety. Trav’s slow recovery allows him much needed time to adjust to the
valley and fall in love with Wrenna, the woman chosen as his bond mate. When he
finds out that she is related to the man who murdered his parents and siblings,
he must choose between the woman he loves and her murderous grandfather.
Excerpt:
Bishop Llewellyn woke with the
certainty that it was not going to be a good day. His head was full of
tiny elves industriously beating on drums. His stomach was jumping in time to
the drum beating. And his arms were twisted uncomfortably behind his back,
where they appeared to be tied to his ankles. No, it wasn’t going to be a good
day. A dark bag that seemed to be impregnated with cow manure was pulled over his
head. He sincerely hoped that most of the cow manure had been emptied from the
bag before he had dubious pleasure of its acquaintance. As he carefully took
stock of his situation, he realized that he was stark naked and cold and had
been rather carelessly dumped on the rough metal floor of a moving vehicle. It
was a stupid way to spend his forty-fifth birthday.
The speed at which the vehicle was
moving down something that resembled a dry pot-holed river bed did not auger
well for either the vehicle or his skin. He bounced from one side to the other,
slamming into hard pointy objects and concluded with faint resignation that he
had no hope of getting out of this situation with a whole skin. The vehicle
slammed to a stop and he heard the driver get out and shut the door. A few
seconds later, the back door was opened and he was yanked toward the opening,
losing more skin on the way. Almost with relief, he felt the tiny needle prick
in his ankle and then he knew no more.
When he woke next, the elves were still
with him but he was stretched out on the cold ground with his arms and legs
firmly tied to stakes. And much to his dismay, he was still naked. The odiferous
bag had been removed from his head and he saw that he was surrounded by
darkness. About six feet away, a small fire was merrily crackling but it
provided no heat for him. The duct tape that had covered his mouth had
obviously been ripped off, taking part of his skin and mustache with it. It
still burned, so he decided he was glad that he had not been conscious for that
particular delight. His field of vision was limited but it seemed to him that
he was in a cave.
“Happy Birthday, Bishop. I see you
decided to finally rejoin the almost living,” a dark velvety voice observed and
he knew exactly why he was in this situation.
“‘Lo, Trav,” he said casually. “Lots
of work to piss off my father.”
“Now, Bish,” he was assured, “nothing
is too much work to piss off your father.” Traveller moved into his field of
vision and looked down at him. “You don’t look very comfortable, Bish. Aren’t
you cold, like that?”
“Freezing,” Bish replied curtly. “But
I’m sure you have something in mind to warm me up, so I’m not too worried about
it.” He shivered artistically but Trav wasn’t buying. “So, what’s the deal? Are
we waiting for a party? Or is this a stag deal?”
“Just you and me,” Trav informed him
agreeably. “Straight trade. You for Dance.”
“And if Dad doesn’t have Dancer?”
Bish didn’t think that his father had Dancer.
“We-ll, we’ll get to be better
friends than we are now.” Traveller laughed quietly, sending chills up Bishop’s
back. “I do hope that your father believed me when I said that I won’t
negotiate.” He moved away and Bish heard the sound of liquid splashing into a
container. “Are you thirsty?”
“I could use some water,” Bish
replied.
“Here. Turn your head,” Trav
instructed as he held a metal cup to Bish’s mouth. “There are approximately six
hundred men out there on the mountain, trying to pinpoint this position. One of
them is your girlfriend’s father, Carl DeMarko.” he said casually, as he tossed
his heavy auburn braid back over his shoulder.
“Tiff’s not my girlfriend,” Bish
declared curtly. “She’s a Fed they sicced on me when you disappeared.”
“I see. Now it’s my fault you were
sleeping with that foul-mouthed wild cat?”
Bish shrugged. “Why turn down what’s
offered?”
“Oh, maybe because she might just
stick her gun up your butt and pull the trigger?”
Sometimes free is good. :)
ReplyDeleteI have bought this book and so loved it. Along with the rest of the series they were all great.
ReplyDeleteI've got my copy...Such a fantastic book..
ReplyDeleteOh, wow! Thank you, ladies for you wonderful comments!
ReplyDelete