Today I got the rights back to Taken, my first book. Bittersweet feeling. On one hand, it hurts to know that it’s no longer available. On the other hand, this gives me a push to look at the stories again and maybe revisit the world of the raedjour. (And isn’t it sad that I had to go look up how to spell that? *shakes head at self*)
So, in that spirit, let’s take a look at this guy who introduced himself to me today.
Keep in mind that I’m doing much of this from my admittedly faulty memory. I haven’t actually read the books in awhile and I’ve got some research to do to refresh my memory of my own world. But I think I’m pretty close to my own rules.
Hands dug deep in his pockets, Dean lowered his head and slunk across the polished stone floor toward his master. He didn’t stop until he saw the shine of expensive black shoes. If he didn’t already know he was in trouble, the bounce of the toe of the shoe of one crossed leg told him. He stopped and kept his head down, his face shielded by the shiny curls of his gold hair. That was going to annoy Roland too. His master liked his hair just long enough to grab but not enough to brush his shoulders. It was beyond that now.
This one’s Rom’s story. He meets up with clueless Shaw from Archives. But Shaw can’t understand what Rom would want with him and Rom can’t understand why Shaw doesn’t want him.
Rom is Dasher. As Santa’s lead reindeer, he has everything he’s ever wanted. He is everything he’d ever wanted to be. His life is perfect, filled with good friends and any pretty he wants.
Until Shaw appears in front of him. The drab little elf from Archives isn’t anything like Rom’s other partners. Oh, he’s cute, but he doesn’t knows it. Even more amazing, he seems immune to Rom’s flirting. It’s almost like he doesn’t want Rom. Wait, no. When Rom does proposition him, Shaw turns him down flat.
Even more amazing, Rom is hooked. He can’t get Shaw out of his mind. He even goes to the Library to pursue him. But Shaw — and Shaw’s mother — can’t figure out what Rom would want with him.
Well, Rom’s not entirely sure either but he knows he wants to find out. Can he convince Shaw?
Rom looked up to see an adorable young man standing on the other side of the table. Which wasn’t odd. Rom was sitting with two other attractive men and had a beautiful lady seated on his lap. But this man stood out, first because Rom didn’t think he knew him, and second because he had an electronic tablet cradled in one arm and a red-feathered stylus in the other. He wore a distracted almost-frown that didn’t do a thing for his pointy face, and all of his what looked to be sumptuous lavender hair was pulled back into a severe and somewhat unattractive tail. His brown jacket was lined with speckled fur and buttoned so high and tight under his chin that Rom wondered he could breathe. Behind thin, wire-rimmed glasses, he stared steadily at Rom and didn’t smile or pout, didn’t do any number of the things designed to get—and keep—Rom’s attention.
This is a sequel to Reindeer Games. It’s Bok’s story about how he gets involved with Tanty, who happens to be the reindeer Vixen. They share a love of adult toys, you see.
Tanty — better known as Vixen, one of Santa’s shape-shifting reindeer — loves toys. Grown-up toys. Sex with men is great, but toys go when you want them to go and don’t stop until you say stop. No muss, no fuss, and all fun.
Bok buys toys. Not only toys for good little human girls and boys, but also sex toys for elves who make a request. If it tickles, wiggles, thrusts, licks, or tingles then Bok’s the elf to see for purchasing that perfect personal treasure.
What Bok wants most of all is to provide Tanty with everything she needs, toys and all, but he doesn’t think the feistiest of the reindeer will be interested in playing with him, an overweight computer nerd. Tanty wouldn’t have thought so either, but by golly Bok and his goodies start to jingle her bells. No matter how much fun a toy is, it doesn’t cuddle at night or kiss you good morning.
And after all, why settle for one toy when you can have the supplier?
Then the door swung wide open to reveal Tanty in a tiny little purple robe with a hem that barely brushed the tops of her thighs. The robe gaped in a deep V in the front that revealed the inner curves of both breasts and a sweet swath of flat belly. “Hi!”
He was toast.
Casually, she reached up to tuck abundant tangerine hair behind her ear as she toyed with her sash with the other hand. Gorgeous, dark blue almost-purple eyes blinked happily at him. “You are a saint for doing this.”
I love elves. So it stands to reason that I’ve got a thing for Santa’s elves, right? I hope you’ll have some fun with me on this different take on life at Santa’s Workshop. This is the first chapter of Reindeer Games.
Rom is Dasher, the leader of Santa’s shape-shifting team of reindeer. He is the quintessential elf — smart, handsome, charming — and everyone in Santa’s Village wants him. Lon is no exception. He’s hopelessly in love with Rom, but how can he hope to get Rom’s attention? Even if he is now one of the reindeer handlers, he’s still just a plain, ordinary elf, and painfully shy to boot.
Then there’s Wod. As Dancer, he’s both Rom’s second in command and Rom’s best friend. He, too, is devilishly handsome but in a darker and — truth be told — slightly frightening way. At least, he makes Lon’s heart race and his tongue tie in knots.
When Wod unexpectedly offers to help Lon gain Rom’s attention, Lon is completely confused. To make matters worse, Wod is clear that he’d love to play with Lon himself.
Lon is used to the sexual freedom in Santa’s Village but he craves something more meaningful. He wants a real relationship. So what does he do? Keep pining for Rom or play Wod’s special brand of reindeer games?
There was a subdued pop far overhead. One moment there was only the pale sliver of moon and stars twinkling in the blanket of midnight sky. Then, from a faint sparkling of a cloud that wasn’t a cloud, emerged the silhouette of a sleigh pulled by nine reindeer.
“Here they come.” Pol pointed needlessly. They all knew what was there.
Lon watched with the rest of the handlers, captivated by the sight regardless of having seen it nightly over the past few months. At first, the sleigh and its chargers looked like little flying dolls, coasting shapes against the stars. Then they became more distinct as they neared. Reindeer galloping on air. The magical sleigh seemed weightless behind them. Even closer and the soft trill of jingle bells filled the air.
Poor Nera. Quite a status she’s been given, but has the sharif made her life better or worse?
WARNING: graphic sex, lighter non-con and a little bit of m/m
Ryun led the way back to his rooms, Aiden following with Nera bundled underneath his arm. No one spoke and Nera suspected Ryun’s angry presence was what cut a swath through the people in the corridors.
Miyn was there when they entered but wisely stayed silent and melted aside as Ryun stormed through the door. As he angrily yanked off his jerkin and boots, Aiden led Nera to sit on the wide bed. Aiden remained quiet and wouldn’t meet her gaze as he slid the cloak from her shoulders. He did reach up to smooth her loose hair and gave her a small, sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he rose and turned to face his master.
Now that Scarn’s shaken things up, what’s Ryun to do? Find out how their father reacts.
It was the first time Nera was alone — or, at least, aware of it — since her capture. She pressed her forehead to the raised arm of the couch and clutched her fingers to either side of her head. The tears stopped after only a short time, leaving behind an emptiness. Her body ached in new places but she couldn’t believe it was anything serious. She’d survive, in body if not in soul.
Why was this happening to her? Why had Buir forsaken her? Or had Buir been attacked by the gods of the sharif?
She was still kneeling on the couch when they arrived. Huddled under the cloak, she peeked up to see Miyn rush in followed by Aiden in a great sweep of light gray robes.
Aiden fell to his knees at her side, the sleeves of his robe falling back on his pale forearms as he reached to cup her jaw. She might have flinched but his striking beauty worked as a balm to her nerves. For some reason, he calmed her despite the worry lines that marred the fine arch of her brows. She saw obvious concern in his narrowed green eyes. “Nera, are you all right?” Continue reading Nera and the Prince – 6→
At long last, she continues! Please forgive if I get some details wrong between this episode and the last. It’s been two years after all. I’m still writing mostly stream of conscious, with only a vague idea of where it’s going. I’m not sure if it’s what people have expected but this is pretty much the direction I’d originally intended. Sorry it took me so long.
Still keeping the non-con warning on this one. Because it gets worse.
Also, still no one editing this one but me so any mistakes you see I can only ask you to overlook.
Nera woke alone. The heated male presence that had exhausted her the day and night previous was gone. She could not pretend it was just a dream because the gold silk sheets and plush, soft pillows that she saw when she opened her eyes could not have been in her cell a the temple.
She closed her eyes and buried her face in the pillow, willing herself to be elsewhere or, if that were impossible, to die. The attack on the temple had come in the wee hours of the morning. The men hired to defend the sacred temple of Buir had fallen quickly to the attackers. By mid-morning, Nera and her sister priestesses had all been trussed up and hauled off to the neighboring country. It had taken two days of travel, during which she and her fellow prisoners were released once in the early afternoon and once just after dusk for eating and calls of nature. They had arrived at the sumptuous palace and they’d known a life of slavery was ahead of them.
So here it is, the last book of the main arc started in Dark Elves I: Taken. The children conceived in the first three books are now grown and ready to cause trouble. As a quick primer, Brevin is Salin and Diana’s son, Lanthan is Krael and Suza’s son, Tykir is Hyle and Gala’s son, and Eryhaen is Savous and Irin’s daughter. Not to mention there’s this guy… from book three… who showed up in book five… yeah, we’re dealing with him too.
As the first girl child born to the dark elves, Eryhaen is rhaejena—princess—and desired by all of the men around her. Born with magical gifts that challenge even the most experienced sorcerers among her people, she has the awe of her people and the devotion of her three best friends and lovers. Brevin, Lanthan and Tykir have been at her side their whole lives and each of the three young men would do anything for her and each other.
But Eryhaen needs more than untutored if eager lovers. She is out of control, and she knows it. Her magic is raw and wild, and she is not the only one who’s started to see her as a danger.
She needs help.
The only possibility is Radin, a legendary sorcerer, returned from the dead but magically unconscious for a quarter of a century. Dreams and undeniable instincts tell her that he’s the solution to her problems, if she can only wake him up.
Once she does, what then? He may be the answer to her problems, but is the legendary lover the man for her? Or is he meant for someone else?
Brevin’s left arm flew up, the long, slim dagger in reverse grip along his forearm to deflect Lanthan’s blade. As Lanthan began to twist away, Brevin brought up a fist, aiming for his gut. Lanthan was better than that, having spun into Brevin, catching him off guard enough so that when the smaller man’s ass rammed into his hips, he stumbled enough for Lanthan to grip his left arm and flip him head over heels. He ended flat on his back in the sand, stunned for those few precious seconds it took for Lanthan to drop to his knees and straddle Brevin’s chest, his blade at Brevin’s throat.
Lanthan’s grin was barely sane underneath the long fall of fringe that spilled over the wide band tied about his skull. “Got ya.”
Brevin snarled, fingers digging into the sand. But Lanthan’s knees pinned Brevin’s arms to the ground.
“Only because it’s left-handed.”
“No excuse,” said a deep voice overhead. “A skilled warrior fights equally well with both hands.”
Brevin closed his eyes. Lanthan’s father, Krael, was a cruel taskmaster, even in training. Especially in training. He wouldn’t accept any less than Brevin’s or Lanthan’s best even if they had just come back from battle. He wouldn’t let them have fun and just blow off steam as Brevin had hoped to do. Can’t he pay attention to the others? There were plenty of other trainees in the practice grounds for Krael to torture.
Lanthan laughed, easing up on Brevin’s throat. “Try again?”
Brevin had wondered if it was a good idea to spar so soon after their return, but after they’d left Tykir with the healers, he and Lanthan had been much too keyed up to stay in the dining hall or go to the pools. Tykir would be all right, but neither of them had truly believed it until the healer had said it himself.
“Yes.” Brevin snatched his right arm up from under Lanthan’s left knee and swung it in a roundhouse toward his friend’s head. As he’d fully expected, Lanthan shied right and back so the punch missed. Weapons dropped in the sand, they tussled, the two of them grappling until Brevin’s greater bulk won out and he had Lanthan pinned underneath him. Lanthan could barely catch his breath for laughing, his cheek pressed to the sand with one arm trapped underneath him and the other held between them by Brevin. Glistening black skin stretched over the taut muscles as Lanthan struggled underneath his weight. Brevin breathed over the closely shorn hair on his friend’s neck. Continue reading EXCERPT – Dark Elves VI: Awakening→