Summary:
At eighteen, Warrior Chieftain Kitlivri Cyrrien of the Sprite Grove gained his title. On a dark night, Kitlivri lost his parents, sister, and nearly his entire population thanks to a horrid wizard potion. The Draconises took in him and his brothers, and Kitlivri gradually healed. Now he is a talented businessman, and the sprites have expanded by three dozen. Honored to be the Warrior Chieftain, Kitlivri does not want to give up his important role in Draconis Enterprises, but he believes it’s a necessity.
Jace Pagonis is a proud harpy, but he chafes at his people’s antiquated rules. When Jace isn’t arguing with his mother—the leader of the harpies—he’s sneaking around to improve his archery skills. Weapons and tricks are forbidden to harpy men but are necessary for the women, who are responsible for the men’s survival. Desperate to convince his mother to join the Council, Jace creeps out of his village one night to explore.
Two weeks into his fact-finding mission, Jace meets Kitlivri and is stunned to discover that Fate has selected them as mates. Jace misses home, but he cannot leave Kitlivri, nor does he want to explain to the courageous sprite that he’s the bratty son of the harpy ruler. Jace throws himself into life as Kitlivri’s other half and co-leader of the sprites, but weaves tales to avoid the truth. However, secrets never stay hidden for long, and Jace must face his lies or risk losing Kitlivri forever.
Summary:
Fifteen thousand years ago, the Fae realms crumbled. A decade ago, Noble Protector Drekkoril D’Vaire of the Light Fae woke after spending many millennia in a dreamless sleep. Upon waking, he discovered his people no longer exist. A goddess revered by the Fae had changed them into elves and sprites with no memory of the past. Thanks to a wonderful, supportive family, Drekkoril healed from the ordeal. Now he wants to find the other half of his soul.
Valiant Defender Daravius of the Dark Fae wanders from place to place, trying to put food in the bellies of his tiny family. With little knowledge of any language still spoken and no resources, Daravius’s existence is meager. Each night, he uses a spell to travel to the destroyed realm that once carved deep scars into his soul; night after night, he must relive the horror. Although Daravius wants more for his loved ones, he is lost.
Expert trackers locate Daravius and his family, and they bring the trio to D’Vaire for sanctuary. Within minutes of their arrival, Daravius and Drekkoril learn they are mates. Drekkoril rejoices and yearns for a future together, but Daravius is terrified and desperate to avoid uniting their souls. Only Fate knows which man will get his wish.
Summary:
Shane is a talented dancer, adores his family, and cannot imagine the world without his best friend. Fate made him a shifter, and at seventeen, Shane discovers the boy he has been crushing on for years is his mate. Sadly, Shane’s best friend is not interested in a romantic relationship—especially not with a man.
Gryphon cannot handle learning that Shane is his mate. For most of their childhood, they dreamed of sharing a stage and confided their innocent secrets. But Gryphon never thought of Shane as a potential love interest. Shane is a man, and Gryphon is not gay. Confused and terrified, Gryphon asks Shane to end their matebond forever.
Destroyed by Gryphon’s rejection and refusing to defy the goddess who put them together, Shane leaves everything behind and starts fresh thousands of miles away. Nine years later, both men are accomplished dancers and have barely spoken in years, despite the connection they hide from nearly everyone. Shane is called home to help his father, and he must confront his past—and the other half of his soul.
With time and space, Gryphon has cast aside the lies he once told himself, and he no longer pretends he is not attracted to Shane. However, Shane has zero interest in reconciliation, and there may be no salvaging their matebond. The choreography of two devoted lovers sets sparks flying, but these two mates have little left between them but spite.
Henry Gennevios is an enchanter with little magic, but his lack of sorcery doesn’t bother him. Growing up in the chaos of his parents’ matebond, Henry escaped into his passion for food. Now, Henry is a famous chef with dozens of restaurants, best-selling cookbooks, and a successful line of kitchen products with his name slapped on them.
Seristyn Cith-Oridi was raised in his father’s elf tribe, but he’s a hybrid with no friends and a father who dictates every aspect of his life. His family life is tumultuous, but Seristyn has quietly rebelled since he was a child. He devotes his ample energy to dance classes and chasing his dreams.
On an otherwise ordinary morning, Seristyn and Henry meet. Instantly infatuated, they follow elven tradition and are mated within a few days. Despite the challenges Fate soon throws in their path, Henry and Seristyn are equally determined to build a matebond full of love and friendship.
Harpy Trickery #34
“I’m fine with not using curse words around the sprites,” Jace replied, resignation in his voice along with something Kitlivri suspected was disappointment. “In my village, they weren’t used often either.”
“I apologize for commenting on your language, I sought to keep you from unintentionally rubbing any sprite the wrong way. I know it’s important to you to make a good impression. As I mentioned, you’re free to use whatever words you want when we’re alone. I’m unbothered by cursing.”
“Do you curse?” Jace asked.
“I don’t. Tiri lived here before I arrived, and everyone had already committed themselves to stop cursing around him. The extended clan agreed to do the same whenever Tiri visits. I hope I’m not giving you a poor impression of Tiri; he’s assured us many times that we no longer need to adhere to that rule.” Ducblanc-mate Tiridythas D’Vaire was a sprite and an adored member of Kitlivri’s family.
“No, I’m not bothered,” Jace said, swinging one booted foot to the floor. “Like I mentioned, harpies aren’t big on curse words either.”
“Still, I feel as if I’ve upset you.”
Jace smiled. “I’m not upset at you. I was thinking about how a younger me yearned to be free of rules…to do whatever I wanted and to please myself alone. I doubt such a world exists. In every walk of life, we must be mindful of hurting others if we don’t want to be considered a jerk. I guess I was a jerk because I didn’t want to consider the feelings of others.”
“In this suite, I think we should both be ourselves, even if we do occasionally fall into the category of being a jerk.”
With a laugh, Jace stood and walked up to Kitlivri. “You’re the last person I’d want to be a jerk to.”
“Good, I’d prefer for you not think of me in the jerk category either,” Kitlivri remarked. Giving in to instinct, Kitlivri rubbed Jace’s arms and bent to kiss him softly. “Are you ready to go?”
“Maybe one more kiss first?” Jace asked.
“A request I am happy to oblige.”
When their mouths met, Jace darted his tongue out and Kitlivri shifted slightly to taste the harpy better. Jace grasped his tunic as Kitlivri tugged Jace closer. With each embrace, Kitlivri’s yearning to explore his newfound sexuality increased, and he was convinced it had everything to do with how enticing Jace was. Aware that his brain was calculating the distance to the bed, Kitlivri regretfully pulled away after one last brush of their lips.
“I think kissing is my favorite thing ever,” Jace whispered.
“Wait until we do more than kiss,” Kitlivri responded without thinking.
His gaze widened, and his cheeks went a little pink, but Jace grinned. “I think about it. I think about it a lot.”
“We need to go to dinner now before I forget a world exists beyond your bed.”
Jace’s bright laughter filled the room. “Consider your invitation to join me in it an open one.”
“You’re a dangerous man.”
With a smile, Jace grabbed Kitlivri’s hand and led him to the door of their suite. “I like the idea of being dangerous. But not nearly as much as I enjoy the thought of being yours. Now, take me to meet your people.”
“I promise you that if my brothers and Tiri aren’t ready to go immediately, we’re coming back in here and the sprites will have to wait for another opportunity to meet their newest Warrior Chieftain.”
“If I thought for one minute that you were serious, I wouldn’t let you out of here,” Jace said as they strolled into the hallway.
“It’s nice to know we’re learning a little about each other. Your friendship is important to me.”
“Yours is important to me too, and you’re in luck, the sprites are already in the foyer,” Jace teased as they ventured down the stairs to where Kitlivri’s brothers and Tiri were waiting for them.
“I won’t forget about your invitation.”
“I intend to make sure you don’t.”
Thrilled with the banter between himself and Jace, Kitlivri doubted his mood could get any better. He had a wonderful evening with his people ahead of him.
Unforgiving Dreams #35
Getting to his feet, Drekkoril wondered where Daravius was. There was no one near him, and the blue grass grew wildly around him as if few people trod through the woods. Drekkoril was left with little choice but to walk to find his v’airsell nioll and some clue as to his location. With a shrug, he went east.
A grin crossed Drekkoril’s face when he spotted a line of people ahead of him. Although their black hair told Drekkoril they were Dark Fae, he still called out to them, but they didn’t look in his direction or respond to his repeated attempts to inquire about where he was.
“Can you not help me?” Drekkoril demanded in a near shout after several minutes of walking past the people lined up. His fists clenched as they continued to ignore him, and Drekkoril wondered why they chose silence. Surely, they were not refusing to acknowledge Drekkoril because he was a Light Fae.
“Stop yelling,” a voice Drekkoril recognized hissed. Drekkoril’s annoyance faded away as he turned to spot Daravius standing across a small land bridge. Understanding hit Drekkoril like a punch, and he realized that the line was Light Fae who’d recently gone dark and were awaiting their fate in the Valiant Defender’s realm.
“It is a relief to see you, Valiant Defender,” Drekkoril stated and bowed deeply. With an audience, it was imperative that he acknowledge Daravius’s title.
“Why are you calling me that?”
“It is your title, Valiant Defender.”
“You already know I wish to be called by my name,” Daravius retorted and crossed his arms.
Drekkoril stalked toward where Daravius stood and was horribly confused about why the people around him continued to act as if he were invisible. “I would have no one think I disrespect the leader of the Dark Fae, Valiant Defender.”
“I am not yet Valiant Defender, Noble Protector,” Daravius countered with a roll of his eyes. “And no one can hear us. I thought you had dreamed magically before. We are shades, Koril, and remain unseen too.”
“I was unaware we could dream that way, I was myself in my lone magical dream , not a shade,” Drekkoril replied. “That is a relief. I thought the divide between our people was so great that no one would acknowledge me because of it.”
Daravius stuck out a splayed hand. “You need to stop. You cannot cross to the Dark Fae realm.”
“Why not?” Drekkoril asked. “This is a dream. We are shades in it. No one can see me or wonder why a Light Fae is wondering around.”
“Because once a Light Fae crosses the threshold, they are instantly turned. You cannot be ignorant of that fact.”
Purposefully, Drekkoril continued to walk until he was inches from Daravius. The handsome dark bemollo was scowling at him, but it took nothing away from his beauty. Drekkoril wondered what it would feel like to press his lips to Daravius’s sensuous, unsmiling mouth.
What did Daravius taste like? What would it be like to caress Daravius’s beautifully decorated body with its vivid swirls of black? Would Drekkoril want to undress him slowly to savor every lovely inch, or tear his simple clothing away to stroke and kiss him?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Daravius demanded, a touch of alarm in his swirling gaze.
Daravius’s trepidation didn’t bother Drekkoril. They both had a lot to learn of each other, and the Noble Protector wouldn’t mind overwhelming Daravius with the chemistry he was convinced was growing between them. “I find you very attractive.”
“Stay back,” Daravius insisted with both of his hands in front of him to ward off Drekkoril’s imminent charge into the Dark Fae realm.
With a wide grin, Drekkoril hopped the tiny distance between their realms. “Nothing happened.”
“Your hair is still light,” Daravius exclaimed, his arms falling to his sides.
“It is a dream, Dare. A living history. We cannot change anything that happened. My magic cannot shift. Although I have often wondered if I could have ventured here without switching to a Dark Fae if the realms had remained in existence. I am a bemollo. Would it take my fairy visiting with me to alter us?”
“I would hope that you were not foolhardy enough to challenge such a notion. If your gamble was wrong, you could not undo the damage.”
“I know that, and you are correct. It is not a theory I would have pursued. But since I am here, show me your world.”
Daravius sighed heavily, and his shoulders slumped. “It is not something I wish for you to see.”
Matebond Dance #36
Shane was used to having to catch on to routines swiftly, and it was expected of a dancer to learn without needing to be told repeatedly. But Shane wanted to invite no comment on his abilities or performance, so he concentrated harder than ever as they wound through the first hour of rehearsal. When Shane figured out that he’d be within inches of Gryphon for the entire thing, he wished he’d asked more questions.
The last thing he wanted was the rich scent of pine trees distracting him or the curiosity of his pony about their mate. His first shift had been weeks before Shane left Nevada, so his beast wasn’t that familiar with Gryphon or his griffin. Or the way Gryphon stirred up every one of Shane’s senses just by existing. It was annoying, and he was already feeling worn out by midday. Ian called out for a five-minute break, and Shane wanted to run from the room without ever returning.
“You picked up the steps quickly,” Gryphon said as Shane sat on the floor and stretched.
“Don’t sound so surprised, and stop towering over me. The room is big enough for you to pick another spot to stretch.” Normally Shane took no issue with anyone’s height, but it was annoying that Gryphon topped him by about six or seven inches.
“I guess you aren’t going to try to be friendly.”
Shane didn’t bother glancing up at Gryphon. “No, I’m not. Now go away.”
“You’re going to have to talk to me at some point.”
Bracing his elbows on the floor since his legs were in a full split, he glared at Gryphon. “Why would I have to do that?”
“Seriously? You’re going to pretend—”
“Do not start this shit at work,” Shane snapped. “In this room, you act professional. Whatever else exists between us has nothing to do with this show or what is expected of us as dancers, so you leave that crap at the door. Do you understand?”
Without a word, Gryphon pivoted on his heel and stalked off. If Shane didn’t immediately look away and enjoyed the taut muscles of Gryphon’s ass as he angrily crossed the room, then it was his business. Once Gryphon was occupied elsewhere, Shane focused on himself and ensuring his brain had held on to the choreography by playing it through his head.
His personal life was not allowed to follow him into a rehearsal or show, and he’d be damned if he’d discuss his matebond at work. Shane had no desire to debate it afterward either, and his plan was to leave Nevada exactly how he’d done so nine years ago. Gryphon had made his choice. They were not going to honor Fate, but Shane’s stance hadn’t changed.
But maybe it should. Lightning hadn’t charged from the sky to smite Shane, and he’d been denying his mate for nearly a decade. His beast would never be happy if he and Gryphon continued this way, and the last thing Shane wanted was an angry or melancholy pony adding to his woes. Thankfully there were plenty of public spaces in Vegas to shift in because Shane foresaw many miles being run as he prepared for the show. He shook his head. Severing Fate’s decision would never sit right with him, but he’d give it some more thought.
The strange thing was that Shane could not picture a second matebond replacing his current one. Maybe it was because his feelings about the situation were too strong, and the sting of Gryphon’s rejection gutted him constantly. Or perhaps Shane had accepted that genuine happiness like his parents shared—and what he hoped his siblings had found with their other halves—was too far-fetched for him.
Shane didn’t think himself undeserving of love despite his selfishness and misery. It took keeping himself isolated to navigate a world that rarely made sense to him, and yes, it still dearly hurt that Gryphon was so eager to be rid of him. The first day of rehearsals, and Gryphon was in his face demanding they discuss the demonic severing he so desperately desired. The petty part of Shane that wanted to prevent Gryphon from fully enjoying his future with Mallory flatly refused to consider even formal separation papers.
It was difficult to admit that he was a shitty person, but he’d accepted that about himself years ago. Without Shane, Gryphon wouldn’t have a family or be performing as part of the Ó Dubhghailes’ dance company. Shane had offered that boy his heart, and everything else he had to give. In return, Gryphon had spent only minutes deciding that their matebond didn’t suit him. Shane closed his eyes, and both man and beast relived that moment of absolute agony.
His pony groaned, and Shane echoed the sound as he stood and took a moment to tug on his unkempt hair. He had to get his brain focused on the present. There was no way he’d survive the upcoming months if he kept delving into the events of nine years ago. It was imperative that he stay far from those memories and keep up a façade of pure professionalism.
Shane wasn’t in Nevada for a family reunion or to rekindle his lost friendship with Gryphon. That little boy who’d loved Gryphon was long dead, and Shane was a man in no mood to resurrect him.
Deliciously Enchanted #37
Henry opened the door to his suite and smiled as the scent of pain au chocolat filled his senses. Near the fireplace, Seristyn stood lighting candles.
“Can you smell it?” Seristyn asked. “I ordered them online, but they weren’t scented that strong, so Amaury pumped it up with magic.”
“I love it,” Henry replied, but his attention was on his mate instead of the deliciously scented chunks of wax. The elf-griffin was wearing nothing but a pair of green linen pants that hung low on his hips. It showed off his sculpted muscles to perfection, and lust punched Henry in the gut.
“Come sit with me,” Seristyn invited, gesturing to the blankets and pillows he’d piled near the raised hearth.
Henry walked toward Seristyn and was about to lower himself to the ground when his other half stopped him with a hand to his chest.
“Clothes off, Hen.”
“Clothes off?”
Seristyn nodded and undid the drawstring of his pants. They fluttered to the floor and Seristyn stepped out of them. Henry’s gaze locked onto the hardening cock rising from its nest of auburn curls. Then Seristyn gracefully sank to the mound of cushions. “Yes. I have plans for us, but they require us to be naked.”
Although Henry had asked Seristyn to stretch their intimacy to include penetration, it hadn’t happened in the past two weeks since he’d broached the subject. Excited that Seristyn was finally willing to fuck him, Henry ignored his blush as he swiftly undid the buttons of his vest and button-down.
“This is fun, I should’ve asked you to strip for me sooner,” Seristyn said. “Can I pour you a glass of Merlot?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Love swelled in Henry as Seristyn slid the cork out of the wine bottle and gave his full attention to filling their goblets. It allowed Henry to avoid feeling awkward as he slipped his shirt off, yanked off his socks, and went to work on his trousers. Affection wasn’t the only thing Henry was feeling. His dick reacted to the enticing Seristyn and the plans he’d made for him and Henry.
“I hope you’re hungry, I have a few treats for us,” Seristyn said as Henry shucked his pants and underwear. “I have a bunch of stuff, and I had some help putting this together. Although I nearly had to fight your brother for the bread. I didn’t realize that was his favorite food or I would’ve brought home two loaves. Maybe we can find some breads for him tomorrow.”
It was rare on a Sunday not to find Henry and Seristyn shopping for food. Henry liked to share his passion for ingredients and recipes with his mate, and they both enjoyed sampling new things and finding fresh items for the week.
“We will, mon chéri. Our family were terrible distractions, you know,” Henry said, sitting cross-legged across from Seristyn and taking a glass from him.
Seristyn laughed. “Thankfully, I didn’t need too much time to set this up. They were kind enough to put the platter together.” Seristyn reached for a silver tray filled with treats.
“Are we to eat all of this?” Henry said, taking in the assortment of cured meats, cheeses, bread, fruits, macarons, and croissants.
“We’ll snack a little.” Seristyn leaned forward, brushed their lips together, and popped a strawberry into Henry’s mouth. “Then, after we’ve built up an appetite, we’ll polish it off.”
“Seristyn?”
“Yes?”
“Are we finally getting our second hoop?”
Seristyn’s smile was wicked, and Henry’s dick twitched in response. “Yes.”
His ass clenching in anticipation, Henry gave himself over completely to Seristyn’s plan. They shared sweet kisses in between bites of food, but Henry was desperate for more. Henry grabbed his wine and guzzled the entire thing in an unsuccessful attempt to cool his heated blood.
A sigh escaped him when Seristyn cupped his neck and unhurriedly tongued him. The hybrid pulled away and moved the platter aside so it was no longer resting on their fortress of blankets and pillows.
“More wine?” Seristyn asked.
“Later, mon chéri.”
“Do you want to lie down with me?”
“I would love nothing more.”
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Monday's Mystical Magic
Sunday's Short Stack
Jessamyn Kingley has published over thirty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, Jessamyn eagerly adds new tales to her D’Vaire series and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. Jessamyn shares a home in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her thick stack of beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.
Harpy Trickery #34
Unforgiving Dreams #35
Matebond Dance #36
Deliciously Enchanted #37
No comments:
Post a Comment