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View this author's other titles LENGTH: Two Novel AnthologySENSUALITY: Carnal Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2007
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The land of Tanselm will fall to evil if the Tetrarch, four identical princes wielding elemental powers, do not find their intended brides. Thrust into the parallel realm of earth to escape death and insure a future for their world, they have one mission and one mission only--to find their destined mates. Having spent most of her life trying to ignore, and deny, her dark side, her heritage from her father, a djinn, Ellie isn't prepared for the hatred and distrust Cadmus blasts her with when he discovers she's no mere mortal, but a Darkling. She's furious when he's placed into her care again … and helpless to prevent herself from falling, once more, under the spell of his charms. Rating: Contains explicit sex, graphic language, and some situations which could be offensive to sensitive readers. Aerolus Storm, the Wind Mage, is less than enthused to marry, and even less excited about the troublemaking female destined to be his. The Aellei are a troublemaking race steeped in deception, trickery and a fondness for games. They make poor allies and even worse enemies. Self-appointed protector Alandra le Aelle has no intention of making things easy for him. Wading through her illusions will take all the skill he's built as a sorcerer, but finding the truth of her heart will take all the skill he's learned as a man. Rating: Contains explicit sex, graphic language, and some situations which could be offensive to sensitive readers. |
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Storm Lords: By Marie Harte
© copyright October 2006, Marie Harte
The muted glow of everdark hovered over the deep blue grasses of Foreia's rich fields. The black bark and flaming red leaves of giant firn trees framed the surrounding area, the scent of sweet scythia flowing through the warm air like a blessing of welcome. Jonas Chase, leader of the rebel Djinn army, grinned with pleasure. Lavender clouds covered the pink-red sky, a sight that never failed to impress him, and made him want to bask in his homecoming. A muffled curse and angry words, unfortunately, drew his attention. Jonas stared at his responsibility, Prince Cadmus Storm, the Earth Lord, and uttered a loud, drawn-out sigh. Surrounded by a dozen Djinn warriors and the Dark Lord who'd promised them freedom, Cadmus nevertheless made an impressive sight as he commanded Foreia's terrain to aid him against his "enemy." Why couldn't the damned Light Bringer do anything the easy way? Golden soil erupted, crushing navy grass into muddied chaos. Quakes of rock shifted, and the air reverberated with the threat of Storm Lord vengeance. "Fine, be a dick." Cadmus snarled over his shoulder, catching Jonas in a brown-eyed glare he found impressive for its sheer ferocity. "Kill me if you want. But I'm taking as many of you to the Next with me as I possibly can." Of the remaining Storm Lords, the Royal Four--more commonly referred to as The Tetrarch--promised a life that Jonas' people had been dreaming about for centuries. The princes didn't know it yet, but once one of the Royal Four became overking of Tanselm, life in their rich, magical world would change, and for the better. Tanselm, a realm of infinite power and splendor. In addition to the fruitful fields, pastures of green and forests of rich trees and earth, Tanselm housed a sentient majesty, an overwhelming center of magic that called to Light and Dark beings with equal intensity. The few times Jonas had been privileged enough to "visit," i.e. spy, he'd felt vastly more powerful standing in that magical plane of existence, even more so than in his home world of Foreia. Surprised at Tanselm's acceptance of himself, a Darkling, he'd begun to recognize his Dark Mistress' words as truth that Tanselm existed to accommodate more than just Light Bringers. Which wasn't to say the future Tetrarch wasn't needed to destroy the evil 'Sin Garu and his hated minions, the Netharat. Those vile wraiths, ice demons and monsters would happily feast on creatures of Dark and Light, if only to perpetuate the chaos that salved their undying hunger. The Dark only knew how many overlapping worlds in existence would fall should 'Sin Garu take Tanselm. Such pure magic in evil hands would destroy Foreia, Aelle, Earth, and so many other worlds not able to withstand such power. No, despite the differences between the Djinn and the Storm Lords, Jonas knew they shared a common purpose--to live and prosper without Dark Lord oppression. Studying Cadmus, Jonas shook his head. Four identical princes with the power to command the elements. Light Bringers and Storm Lords all, yet each brother was decidedly different. Darius, the Prince of Fire, had a temper and little patience. Marcus, the River Prince, possessed an annoying tendency toward arrogance, but thankfully his affai, his new bride, was wearing him down. Aerolus, the Wind Mage, controlled the winds as easily as he ruled magic, a young sorcerer with the potential of his legendary uncle, Arim, Tanselm's notorious Killer of Shadow. And Cadmus. Jonas still wondered at the Earth Lord, a brown-eyed royal who could charm the scales off a dragon. Keeping an eye on Marcus had been tedious but easy in comparison. Cadmus, on the other hand, protested the measures to keep him safe at every turn. While Jonas could feel for the independent royal, he found Cadmus' quirky sense of humor and annoyingly clever escape attempts vexing, not to mention exhausting. He watched Cadmus take on more than he knew he could handle and had to hand it to the Storm Lords. They had been born to royalty, but their parents had not raised whiny and weak monarchs. These men, and especially Cadmus, possessed strength and stubbornness in spades. From what Jonas' cousin had affirmed, Cadmus' reputation as a charmer and ladies' man had been well-earned. Lighthearted but kind, he had seemed to be the easiest of the four brothers to turn. Staring at him now as he tried to bury half a dozen Djinn under Foreia's life-giving earth, Jonas found it hard to reconcile the easy-going Cadmus with the Light Bringer warrior before him. "Enough," the Dark Lord, the Djinn's Dark Mistress, said in a soft voice. She took several steps closer to Cadmus but shook her head when Jonas attempted to intervene. "Earth Lord, the vision you saw was a message from me." "Bullshit. I saw you die, you and your bastard brother, B'alen." Her ice-blue eyes narrowed, and her smile, when it came, was as effective a weapon as her dark flame. "B'alen is indeed dead. And you Storm Lords owe me a debt of gratitude for it." "Gratitude?" Cadmus snorted and threw several approaching Djinn from him with bursts of energy that visibly swelled from the ground. "If not for you Dark Lords, Tanselm would be in one piece." Cadmus blasted another group of Djinn, his power growing with his rage. "My father, my uncles and aunts and cousins, would all still be alive." A large tree groaned as it shuddered under a massive force, its roots reaching through the ground for the Dark Mistress' legs. She glided as if on air, stopping a few feet from Cadmus. Jonas could feel the tension filling the space between them with chaotic power. Tendrils of negative energy snarled at him, and he flashed into the natural form of the Djinn, in truth, unable to help himself. He didn't even try to fight it, knowing he was much more powerful in his energetic state. His physical form blurred, keeping a man's outline while consisting not of flesh, but of white, blazing energy surrounded by a black aura that danced like flame. He was Djinn. He was powerful. And he had been born to return his people to their home world, to Tanselm, where they rightfully belonged. "Hear me, Earth Lord," the Dark Mistress uttered in a low voice filled with bleak promise. "You know nothing of true pain, of torture and worse at the hands of those you love. So carry the regret of your loved ones' passing close to your heart, and be content that you will once again join them in the Next." The Earth Lord stared at her, quiet but wary, his eyes fixed on hers. Jonas expected her to thrall him, at the very least, to punish him for his disrespect. But she surprised him. "You look so much like Arim." Cadmus blinked, puzzled but cautious. "What do you know of my uncle?" "I know everything about Tanselm's greatest sorcerer," she said with disdain. "A pity he still breathes when a fine man like your father is dead, hmm?" Cadmus stilled, but Jonas could see the fury pooling in his gaze as he stepped closer to her. "I owe you my thanks, you said? Then allow me to thank you for my father's passing." He looked around him, his glare hot enough to burn. "You and all your Djinn friends. Without their poison, my father would still be alive." He glared at the Dark Mistress, his gaze as black as night, and raised his arms, his fingers reaching for her. "Accept my gratitude, on behalf of the Storm Lords." "Cadmus, no!" Jonas yelled, alarmed at the inviting expression on his Dark Mistress' face. Cadmus had no idea of the power she wielded, and Jonas had come too far to lose the Storm Lord because of his rash temper. Unfortunately, he couldn't aid Cadmus because she wouldn't allow it. She held him still with a thought, welcoming Cadmus' touch. The minute Cadmus' finger touched her shoulder, the very second his power hit hers, he froze. The Dark Mistress, Lexa Van Nostren, 'Sin Garu's sister and traitor to his cause, froze, as well. Together they stood like statues, locked in a war of wills, a soft blue nimbus of light blanketing them together. And then Lexa took a deep breath and pulled away, leaving Cadmus in a frozen haze. "Very good work, Jonas." She turned to him and smiled, her grin sincere and dangerously alluring. "He's filled with a Darkness that compliments his Light. I believe this Storm Lord will solve all your problems." Jonas brightened, his aura black with joy. "Truly, Lexa? This one would see the Djinn welcomed back to Tanselm?" "The Sarqua Djinn, yes," she corrected softly, and he nodded. "Those who fight alongside my brother, 'Sin Garu, are too tainted to appreciate Tanselm's grace." Jonas bowed his head in deference. "Unfortunate, but true." He looked up, willing her to read the sincerity in his soul. "But we won't make those same mistakes. We may live in the Darkness of existence, but our hearts are pure." She nodded. "Light and Dark are sides of the same coin. It has ever been about balance. In time all will see what you and I know." "And Cadmus?" She smiled, a grin that would have looked quite menacing had Jonas not understood and supported its cause. "He's one of us already. He just doesn't know it yet."
StormLords: GALE SEASON By Marie Harte
© copyright June 2006, Marie Harte Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright June 2006 ISBN 1-58608-927-7 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com
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.
Prologue
Several Light Bringers, Tanselm’s fierce Storm Lords to be precise, dueled with ‘Sin Garu, a malevolent Dark Lord and sorcerer who was seriously beginning to piss her off. She had missed the signs that ‘Sin Garu would attack this soon, and worse, that he’d have the audacity to steal one of the Storm Lords’ mates, the River Prince’s beloved affai. Only three of the four Storm Lords were fighting back, and Marcus’ affai lay unconscious on the ground. Prince Darius, the fourth member of the legendary Royal Four, had returned to his homeworld of Tanselm with a new bride a month ago. From what Alandra had observed through her charge, Darius’ marriage would be a strong one, one that would bode the land of Tanselm well against ‘Sin Garu and his Netharat, an evil scourge that no one, not even her family, found promising. “Tessa! No!” Marcus cried from a large pool of red contaminant that chuckled gleefully in a language only Alandra could hear. Staring at the red goo, Alandra took a deep breath, frustrated that her intention to remain invisible, and thus effective, would have to change. The red goo, an immature youngster known more commonly as a Nocumat, clung to Marcus, his brother Cadmus, and even her charge, prince and Wind Mage Aerolus Storm. She knew the youngster, Oxcen, would not relent until he had devoured them all. A Nocumat’s appetite was well-known for being one of the most voracious of the Shadren. By the Shadow’s Curse, she hadn’t wanted to meet Aerolus like this. Damn Oxcen! She glared at his spreading substance, at the many hands and mirrored form of Marcus that molded from his red being. How one of the Shadren came to be in this place, a world with so little magic as to be nonexistent, boggled the mind. She shifted her gaze to ‘Sin Garu, who struggled against Marcus’ impressive defense. A thin sheen of water encased the sorcerer from head to toe, slowly suffocating him to death. Good. A fitting end to the Dark Lord, considering his quest to subjugate not only the Storm Lords and their people, but all who opposed his future rule over Tanselm. To that end, he employed ice wraiths, the rebellious Djinn and a handful of ignorant Shadren willing to believe in his obscene plans. And speaking of ignorant Shadren ... she glared at Oxcen as he toyed with Marcus and his brothers, and deliberately stepped closer to Aerolus. Her Wind Mage, as she’d expected, had Oxcen’s appetite in hand, but even he could not hold the Nocumat back forever. Neither, for that matter, could ‘Sin Garu. What had he been thinking to bring a Nocumat here, of all places? While ‘Sin Garu wrestled with Marcus’ magic, Alandra noted yet another complication, and her head began to throb. Cadmus, the Earth Lord, began flashing as if under a spell. She rubbed her temple, grimly wishing she had never heard of Tanselm and the Storm Lords. By all that was Shadow, the four identical princes were more trouble than they were worth. She eyed Aerolus. Well, almost. A movement to his left caught her attention. As if Cadmus’ odd shifting weren’t enough, the white-gold fiery form of a man covered in otherworldly black flames low-crawled toward ‘Sin Garu with his dark hand outstretched, threatening under his breath. A Djinn, a stupid, haughty, trouble-making Djinn, interfered openly in the presence of the narrow-minded Light Bringers. Had he no concept of what the Storm Lords would do with him once they rid their world of ‘Sin Garu? Similar to the Shadren, the Djinn were widely regarded as evil, simply because they preferred, and even lived in, the Dark. But like Alandra, this Djinn appeared to believe in the Storm Lords’ dynasty, knowing that only with their powerful leadership could the possibility exist that someday, somehow, the Djinn and Alandra’s people, the Aellei, might be allowed to return to Tanselm, a land of celebrated prosperity, wealth and magic. Tessa, Marcus’ affai, diverted her attention by rising to wield an incredible amount of elemental and psychic energy at ‘Sin Garu, draining some of Alandra’s psychic energy in the process. Extraordinary, she thought, staring at the warrior-like redhead with a hint of envy. What she wouldn’t give to be that tall. ‘Sin Garu faltered, and in that moment, the Djinn grasped his ankle, merging his Dark energy with the sorcerer’s. Moved by his efforts to free his people, even at the cost of his own life, Alandra sent him a hint of her magic, pushing him and ‘Sin Garu toward a dark welling in the floor. A moment later, a loud boom sounded, the noise made by their clumsy reentry into the pathways between worlds. She had no idea where the Djinn would take ‘Sin Garu, or if the two would even survive the trip. But she had given the Djinn a chance, one he wouldn’t have had if he’d used his remaining energy to expel the sorcerer from this world. “Marcus,” Tessa cried before falling to the floor. Quickly noting what she’d ignored in her attempt to aid the Djinn, Alandra reluctantly made the decision to make her presence known. Aerolus could not hold Oxcen back any longer, and her red kinsman was slowly consuming one Storm Lord while easing his way up Aerolus’ knees. And that would definitely not do. Shimmering into the image of her aunt, the Aellei queen, Alandra assumed “the royal presence” she’d learned through her miserable years spent at court and decided to give young Oxcen a piece of her mind. It would be too much to hope that he’d keep the tale of the queen’s visit to Seattle to himself. No doubt by this time tomorrow everyone in Aelle would know someone had impersonated the queen, yet another sin to add to Alandra’s lengthening list of crimes against her world and the royal family, of which she was no longer considered a part. But she would at least have the chance to meet Aerolus face to face and give him the opportunity to see who’d been watching over him during his pressing time in this world. She hungrily studied him from head to toe, from his dark hair and glinting, silver eyes filled with power, to his broad, muscular chest, and lower, to that other impressive part of him. She couldn’t help the naughty grin that escaped. Time to show Aerolus her patience had worn thin. And when she was done with him, maybe, just maybe, she’d finally get the irresistible Aerolus Storm to herself. What she wouldn’t do for five minutes alone in the dark with the Wind Mage....
Chapter One
A little to the left, no, stop, don’t move. Okay, two more steps, ah, ... there. Now, slowly, one button at a time. Yes, yes, that’s right. Alandra/Trudy Warner stared through the telescope carefully positioned in the corner of the bedroom, obscured from view by shuttered blinds and a large, potted fern should the male under scrutiny decide to give her window a second glance. She felt ridiculous having the fern near with closed blinds, but she knew better than to underestimate a Storm Lord. “Oh yeah, baby,” she uttered on breath and a prayer. “I love that chest.” Helplessly fascinated and growing steadily more aroused, she watched her tall, strapping neighbor lose his shirt as he readied, she assumed, for a bath--the light in his adjoining bathroom was on, and steam fogged the bathroom mirror. She swallowed around a dry throat, wishing for a glass of water, but refused to leave the sight of Aerolus Storm stripping down to nothing. Long fingers reached for the snap of his jeans, his hands graceful and sure as they unzipped the denim, allowing a brief thatch of dark hair to appear. Mother of all that was holy. She stopped breathing, anticipation making her almost dizzy. Come on, Aerolus. Drop them, already. I’m dying here! Jeans slid slowly to his knees before he kicked them off, giving her an uninhibited view of sizzling male perfection. Golden skin rippled as he moved under the sunlight streaming through his room, casting beautiful shadows of a warrior in his prime. A sprinkling of dark, silky hair covered his upper chest, tapering over a taut abdomen packed with clearly delineated muscle. The hair trailed lightly down his belly to frame a thick, mouth-wateringly large shaft that whispered “yours” the longer she stared at it. Shadows, how she wanted to touch that part of him. She swallowed loudly, her heart hammering like a ringing alarm clock that refused to turn off. Trying to rein in her boiling needs, she took a deep breath, then released. Repeating the process several more times, she finally sighed, hopelessly in lust with the god-like image before her. Aerolus was so beautiful, so very desirable, and so utterly slow. Her hands gripped the base of the telescope as she watched him stretch and rub his chest, a motion she could have been performing had the stubborn man answered her summons. Instead, Aerolus Storm, both warrior and sorcerer, Storm Lord and Wind Mage, acted as if he had nothing to fear, as if she hadn’t rescued both him and his brothers from sure death just a few short weeks ago. She huffed, perturbed that apparently she’d been so easy to forget, all the while her eyes remained glued to the naked mage rotating his neck and shoulders, which only emphasized the abundant physical strength he possessed in spades. Aerolus appealed to her on more than a visual level, regrettably making her attraction all that harder to shake. The man’s extraordinary grasp of sorcery, especially considering he was really just a novice, and his potential for power thrilled the heart of her that pulsed with magic. She itched to be near him, to stroke his warm skin and feel the energy that coursed in his blood. Scowling, she cursed the day Aerolus had sealed his house from all but the Light Bringers. Now, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t simply phase into his home. Despite her pixie-like size when “observing,” she couldn’t pass the spelled shield he’d erected around the house. Even in the guise of an ant, she’d be expelled from the premises. Thus her masquerade as Trudy Warner, the nosy neighbor. Aerolus finished his stretch, capturing her attention once more. He did the oddest thing. Staring down at his penis, he grasped it in a firm hand, then began rubbing it and closed his eyes. The action seemed at first clinical, but then his face changed, became charged with a raw intensity that caused an instant throbbing in her womb. His fingers stretched his flesh, pulling almost viciously as his breathing quickened. Sweat beaded on her brow, and she licked her dry lips, wishing he were here, with her, thrusting not into his hand, but inside her with that massive shaft. Into her body and out of her system, ending this annoying craving she had for his touch. His biceps clenched, and his forearm strained. She could see his nipples standing erect, as much from arousal as from the breeze that lifted his hair. Her breath caught as she saw his elemental nature freeing itself from its usual constriction. Wind whipped at the sheets on his bed, at the papers lying atop his dresser, at the curtains framing his window, interrupting her scrutiny as dark fabric swirled against the panes. Glimpses of Aerolus showed him building toward climax, his neck muscles prominent, straining as he gritted his teeth and pumped faster. Then suddenly the curtains dropped, the wind ceased, and Aerolus turned his head, blinking directly at the hidden telescope, at her. He should have been embarrassed. Shadows knew she would have been. But Aerolus stood uninhibited, still gripping his shaft, his face an almost expressionless mask, unless one knew where to look. She did. And the slight tightening around his eyes showed a muted frown. He released his penis--a damned waste, in her opinion--and took a step toward the window, his eyes glowing with unfettered anger. With a curse she flew back, knowing he couldn’t possibly have seen her, yet he had. She felt both annoyed and embarrassed to be caught peeping and sank heavily onto the bed. Well, really, it wasn’t as if he was around to cure her of this insatiable desire. She shook her head, muttering under her breath and returned to the telescope. “Damn.” He’d disappeared, and the bathroom door had closed. Alandra toyed with the idea of marching over there and asking for a cup of sugar, an egg, anything just to get inside that house again, a step closer to the man who, for reasons unknown, filled her every waking thought. Her growing obsession with Aerolus was irritating, alarming and disturbingly arousing. The last she’d seen, only Aerolus, his brother Cadmus and that unpredictable sorcerer of Tanselm, Arim, were in residence. None of them would recognize her in this guise. But did she want to take the chance she might be wrong? Walking to the dresser mirror, she stared at the likeness of Dr. Trudy Warner, a nice, if boring, middle-aged woman currently on sabbatical in Europe. House-sitting for Professor Warner had been a no-brainer, a fortuitous circumstance she’d been hoping for when she’d first begun observing Aerolus a year ago. To Trudy, she’d been an eager, naïve college student needing some extra cash. But to the Storm Lords, she remained Trudy Warner, an average neighbor who never attracted attention, the same dull professor day in and day out. The month she’d been here had been hell, but so worth it if only to see Aerolus naked. Her lips quirked. This job had definite perks. And a killer downside. With the source of her attraction so close, it should have been easy to fulfill her needs. Unfortunately, Aerolus felt no compunction about ignoring both her and the dire situation encroaching steadily nearer. The doorbell rang, halting her indignation, and she hurriedly adjusted her attitude and mindset to match Trudy’s. As she slowly trudged down the steps toward the front door, Alandra focused on recalling Trudy’s monotonous voice. Appearances were easy to assume, but voices and mannerisms took skill and practice--both of which she was working to improve. Drawing a deep breath, she opened the door and exhaled slowly, a pleasant if dim smile on her face. “Yes? Marcus, isn’t it?” Aerolus frowned, his silver eyes glinting with suspicion. Oh, yes, he’d definitely noticed her watching him. “Actually, I’m his brother, Aerolus. We’ve never met.” Thank the Shadows. Now, how to play this to her advantage ... If Arim weren’t in residence, she would have knocked on Aerolus’ door and demanded his cooperation weeks ago. But with the formidable Light Bringer at the house, maybe even spying on Aerolus as they spoke, she didn’t want to chance being recognized. Who knew what repercussions she’d suffer at his hands? And if word got back to the Aellei of what she’d been doing before she was ready to face them, she’d be better off dead. Aerolus stared down at her curiously, and she realized she’d been staring as she thought. She flushed and tried to act intimidated, as Trudy would have. “I’m so sorry, please, come in.” She stepped back and waited until he entered before locking the door behind him. An idea firmed in her mind, one she’d been toying with for weeks in the event she was caught. Lies and deception worked so much better when a hint of truth worked into the mix. “I know why you’re here,” she said in a strangled whisper, peering through her front window nervously before turning back to him. |
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