Once she was afraid to touch him. Now she’s afraid to let go.
Forced to marry to avoid war between clans, Kenna Cleary endured three days of her new husband's painful brutality, unaware of his demon heritage. Leaving her for dead, he rode off to battle the English. In the five years of his absence, she bore him a daughter, increased his holdings, and gained the love and respect of his people. Now he's home. Must she and the clan learn to endure his cruelty once more?
Can an ancient Celtic god find peace in the mortal world?
The Laird of Domhnul has returned from war a changed man—moreso than his wife can possibly know. Now the warrior faces a new battle, one for his wife's heart, and his peoples' trust. He must walk the knife's edge of deception and danger, all while learning to manage the supernatural power flaring inside him and discovering a heritage he never imagined.
But when his father embroils both them in a deadly plot, can the couple find a way to prevent war between their clans?
Genre: FICTION / Romance / ParanormalKenna curled her lip as she drew closer. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that he was someone else. Anyone else. Old Angus the pig farmer would have been better. Ty’s warm breath made her want to retch, not that it was unpleasant. The scent of cinnamon wafted up to her as his lips touched hers.
She expected the sudden urge to heave, not the fiery jolt that shocked her right down to her toes. Her body tingled all over, but her mouth…
Her lips parted seemingly of their own free will. The instant they did, Ty plunged his tongue inside. The courtyard disappeared, leaving them alone even though the bailey still teemed with people. Kenna kept her fists clenched at her sides. Ty’s grip on her upper arms was firm, but not painful. He pulled her closer still until her breasts pressed against his chest. A groan rumbled from deep inside him, vibrating against her own pounding heart.
The thought of her daughter jolted her back to her senses. She tried to pull back from him. To her utter surprise, he let her, keeping a tight hold on her until she remained steady on her feet. She stared at him, unable to read his thoughts but startled by the raw passion in his expression.
That was a look she knew well. The look of her husband overcome with lust and eager to take what he wanted, by force if at all possible. Hoping to distract him before he kissed her again, she asked, “How did you lose your eye?” Her voice shook with trepidation.
Ty shrugged and reached up to touch the black patch that covered his injury. “Battle scars, a ghrá.” He lifted his hand to her face.
She instinctively drew away, regretting it almost immediately. He had trained her well not to pull away from him, but to suffer his abuse unless she wanted it intensified.
He smiled sadly and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “Ye need not fear me, Kenna.”
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Chiara Vitali
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Author review: This translator is fabulous to work with. Very thorough. |
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Portuguese
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Maria Clara Campelo
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Talía García
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