Welcome to Paranormal Romance Month! This week I’m thrilled to be interviewing author Skhye Moncrief. Skhye will be chatting about her latest release, Forbidden Eternity. For a chance to win a copy of Forbidden Eternity and a $5 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press be sure to leave a comment!Forbidden Eternity…
In present-day Scotland, a shape-shifting shaman and a Druid embrace the forbidden to safeguard history from renegade gods bent on sabotaging history by kidnapping the Goddess of Time.
A woman Cochise despises is his only hope for a future. He has no choice except to swallow his pride and protect Druidess Mairi from a man who is blackmailing her into breaking time-travel Code by kidnapping her sister. But his presence tempts Mairi into risking her sister's life in falling in love. A fairy hairball and a pack of Hell Hounds force the duo to hide on an astral plane where there is no resolution beyond facing their FORBIDDEN ETERNITY.
SKY: Skhye, it’s a pleasure to have you visit. Thanks for joining me this week!
SKHYE: Absolutely no problem! Anything to visit with my friend.
SKY: I just started reading, Forbidden Eternity. Well written, thoroughly engaging and sensuous, I can tell already it’s a winner! Let’s hit the ground running, Skhye. If you could introduce this story with three ‘make us want to know more’ words, what would they be?
SKHYE: Who stalks her?
SKY: To the point. Nice! Already, we’re in Scotland. Is there any better place to be? As everyone knows─ I’m hero hungry. This time it’s all about sexy, shape-shifting shaman, Cochise. Dish up. Tell us what makes him so sizzling hot!
SKHYE: Just some lingering image in my mind of the actor Jay Tavare… But you ask for more.
Cochise lost all will to stop. The music throbbed. The Druid danced around him, rubbing her curves against him. She wanted him. He went rock hard.
What else could her behavior mean? Even though darkness shrouded her innocence, Brave Woman wouldn’t beg him to dance if she didn’t trust him.
She faced him, snaking her hands around his rocking hips, staring at his groin. She threw her head back, turned, and pressed her rucking ass into his groin.
The babe didn’t seem so innocent anymore.
She raised up on her toes to press her lips to his.
Hot need jolted him from lips to loin. He leaned down without drawing her against him and thrust his tongue between her soft lips. She sucked it deeply inside her warm moist mouth.
The only thing that could feel any better would be him ramming inside her. Claiming her. He struggled to keep his hands off her.
Gods, he didn’t want to lose control. How often did a man get a chance with a woman who was attracted to him? A woman he wanted? He would take her to the brink of her sanity. Make her beg for him to throw her on the bed. Then he would show her what a red man had to offer.
Her warm mouth slid away and she spun around him like a phantom, shaking her hips along with his. He was so damned hard he feared he would explode in his pants.
She edged up behind him, spooned him while never missing a beat in the music, and egged him on by pressing her round breasts into his ribs.
SKY: Wow! You just handed me ‘sizzling hot’ on a platter. Thanks! Every hero adores his heroine─ or maybe not. There’s friction between Druidess Mairi and Cochise at first. If Mairi could pop her head into this interview, what defining moment would she say started to thaw her heart toward Cochise? Was it something he did? Something he said?
SKHYE: Just relating to his cultural heritage. Mairi’s not stupid. Druids aren’t. If they were, they’d never survive time-traveling through history. So, she’s got this soft spot for Native-American cultures. She already knows much about him just in her interests.
SKY: In every great story there is a setting that stands out above all others. What would you say that is in Forbidden Eternity? Give us a glimpse of what you consider is by far the most enticing backdrop in this story.
SKHYE: [The astral plane, the place he doesn’t have to share with anyone, a place of questionable existence…]
“Shift, Skin-Changer. Crawl atop her and breathe her spirit out through her nose. Take her essence inside yourself. Guide her to the Light.”
Why did he think the task easier said than done?
The old woman blinked, her eerie eyes disappearing momentarily.
Something about her reaction sent a deadly wave of dread through his spirit.
Could he trust the Goddess of Shape Shifting? “If you’ve lied to me, for any reason, you know I will never trust you again.”
Bheur nodded. “You are my only hope, Caointeoir. The only hope of The People. All of humanity.”
Famous last words.
A chuckle lodged in his throat.
What luck he hadn’t been handed a contract to sign before being put to duty. He evoked the tingling in his chest, fell onto his paws, and hopped onto the bed.
Mairi slept like a snug child between his paws.
Good. He didn’t want her to see him this fricking vulnerable. Great Spirit just slit my jugular and let me bleed to death. He edged up to place both front paws by her head.
Without the sock, she would have been angelic in the faint silver light.
“That’s it, Caointeoir. She will exhale. Then you must inhale her spirit.”
Back-seat driver. He eased down to touch his nose against hers. She wiggled her head as if something tickled her in her sleep. His scent still clung to her mouth after she fed her hunger with their kiss. He leaned closer, sniffing her lips. The reeking dog smell hung over them like the smell of electricity right before a downpour.
Gods, she was beautiful. And so easily his. Right there. Ready for the taking. After all, Arthur said to do anything necessary. If he took her maidenhead, bound her spirit to his for eternity, they could dispense with sharing his sanctuary. But taking a woman who didn’t want him was like rolling in a cactus bed. Bad news. Especially when nobody he knew owned tweezers. And Brave Woman had been begging for Jamie.
Her hot breath stroked his whiskers.
Need shot through him.
Again the beautiful babe, sock gag and all, made him rock hard. She could be his with the swipe of one claw the way she lay helpless beneath his muscles and beating heart. But he wouldn’t muddy his history with another black mark. Not one more stroke. Although, all he could think of was stroking. Right into her maidenhead.
She wagged her head beneath him.
“Hurry, Caointeoir. She awakens.”
Mairi’s eyes flitted open. Her gaze cut through night’s darkness, locking on his. Panic flickered in the murky blue orbs. Her eyebrows squared. He didn’t move, waiting for her to breathe.
Shit, exhale, woman.
Mairi’s arms jerked. She was coming off the bed. She inhaled sharply, staring him down. He waited for her exhalation. He had to be ready.
Her breath knifed out of her like she no longer recognized him.
Jamie. She just wanted Jamie. Damn the pale ass could have her. He caught the first of her warm tickling breath and sucked the vapor into his lungs.
Her gaze widened as if she realized what took place. But he kept breathing the misty heat inside himself. Her spirit filled his lungs.
Refreshed him.
Cloaked his spirit.
Made him ache to fall on top of her.
He wanted to roll onto the bed. Mix her essence deep into his spirit. Mingle with her to the point she could never escape his body.
Gods, he felt whole.
Mairi was magic.
He would have gasped at his work save for risking the loss of one atom of her being.
Her eyelids closed. Her breathing ceased.
“She is asleep,” Bheur’s words seemed to draw near, then pull away like they were spoken through a wall of water. “Guard her well. I will summon you back when ‘tis safe for her return.”
No problem. Hot Babe’s spirit was better than Grandfather Peyote. He tried to climb over her but toppled onto Mairi’s arm, closed his eyes, and concentrated on his body.
Grandmother Earth to take me.
Grandfather Sky whisper all into existence.
I welcome the darkness of the Creator and shake free of this body to Journey into the Light.
The Light was close in the darkness. So close. But he didn’t want to let Mairi go. Didn’t want to stop feeling complete.
Grandmother Earth fell away in the shadows of what was. He floated up to the heavens. Toward the Land of Many Lodges, the pleasant place he yearned for but could never reach until death. The essence around him grayed, lightening until the point when the Light brightened to welcome him back to his pool and meadow. A special place he had never found where living humans wandered.
Something stirred in his lungs like a tickling breeze. The tickle strengthened to a miserable itch. Bile threatened to surge from his gut.
Gods, he needed to retch.
Heave.
Cough his heart out. He couldn’t lose his charge in passage. Would she know how to find her way back to her body? Where was the watery surface’s mirrored sheen? He peered upward, slapping a hand over his mouth.
The Light intensified but had yet to ripple with penetrating sunbeams the way it did when he approached his sanctuary’s threshold.
A chilling bile surged through his chest.
He was going to puke.
Now, the question, my friend, is where do you think this place is?
SKY: We’re almost out of time. As I’m sure everyone is eager to know─ what’s next, Skhye? Have you other releases due out soon? Are you writing anything right now?
SKHYE: SWORDSONG will be available June 25th. I’m waiting to hear back on another Time-Guardian submission, a novel with a Nordic hero.
SKY: Thank you so much for sharing, Skhye!
SKHYE: You’re very welcome. And thanks for raking me o’er the coals, my friend.
SKY: Chuckles. Anytime!
It’s not over yet! Here’s another taste…
Excerpt: Enter the Hell Hounds...
The God of the Sea and Bheur worked together to make Mairi's future unbelievably confusing.
Black Elk opened the door. Four enormous blonds stood in the porch.
How had they all fit into the doorframe? She couldn’t see anything beyond their heads and shoulders.
“Sister.” The closest one nodded.
They all looked like brothers, not twins, yet slightly different. All had shoulder-length wavy white hair brushing their black leather jackets. They probably hid red eyes behind those sunglasses. The Hell Hounds. “Do come in and sit down, gentlemen.” She waved into the sitting room. “Bheur’s grandsons are welcome in my home.”
The four men’s cheeks split with wide grins. Black Elk shot her a chiding look.
What could a lass do? The Goddess left naught to the imagination. The men were here. Black Elk would just have to get used to the situation. Five guardians would certainly prove better than one. She stepped back, permitting her guests’s entry.
Black Elk acquiesced in silence. The pale-skinned blonds barely fit through the doorway.
They were a wee bit taller than the Native American. But Gods tended to be quite tall regardless of their ancestry. A Sister just needed to learn how pure a godlings’ fairy blood was. Legend rumored that too much animal or human blood in the mix could affectively dilute a godling’s powers. “Would you care for tea?”
The men milled about the room until two sat on the sofa, the broadest-shouldered man on the loveseat, and the fourth in the wingback chair. They looked odd with sunglasses on inside the house. Were they hiding something?
“Do you have any beer?” the huge one timbered from the loveseat. “‘Tis been so long since I’ve had a good drink topside.”
Topside? They looked too large for submarine service. They certainly referred to the Underworld. “Aye. We keep a few around for our gentlemen visitors.”
All four grinned. She turned to the kitchen. Black Elk stood in the kitchen doorway like a man intent on forbidding her from pleasing the Gods.
By the God-dess-Spirit, hopefully he wouldn’t make a scene. “Please, let me pass,” she whispered.
He blinked at her slowly, turned his body sideways, and followed her to the refrigerator.
What was her guardian’s deal?
Cold air tumbled across the floor as she opened the icebox. Beer bottles clanked on the bottom of the door. She bent to collect four.
Black Elk leaned over the bottom door’s top. “Don’t you think it a bad call in getting your guards drunk?” he muttered.
She hadn’t thought of that. “You’re not drinking.” She flashed him a smile.
His disgusted glare snuffed her breath. So did the way his muscles bulged along his arms where he leaned over the door. The man was spectacular. And she knew it wrong to lead him on, how she would hate herself for hurting him in doing so. But his lips were so incredible. And that kiss. All she could ever dream of was one more kiss from him. And, perhaps, all he needed was one more kiss to calm his nerves in place of a beer.
Those astounding lips were so close. Her gut melted into syrup, flip-flopping and twisting like butterflies batted around trying to escape the goo. If the door hadn’t blocked her body from his, she would have crawled into his arms. Thrown everything away on this strange halfling who had shown up on her doorstep hours ago.
“Are you all right, Sister?” one of Bheur’s wee lads bellowed from the other room.
Black Elk sighed. “You’d best liquor up the circus clowns.”
Anything but kiss a halfling.
“I’m coming.” She strode around Black Elk’s perky arse to the living room clutching the chilly rations.
The closest man in the chair smiled, reaching for a cold beer. “I’m Srón, Sister.”
He must be the expert tracker with a name like nose. At least, he didn’t have a long wicked rat-tail. “’Tis nice to meet you, Srón.” She nodded and handed the man on the loveseat a beer.
“I’m Sully.” Another brute flashed a stunning grin.
Of course, a goddess of prophecy would have a son with hawk eyes. “Nice to meet you, Sully.”
He arched a snowy white eyebrow at her. A hint of flirtation hid in the action. He thrust his thumbnail beneath the bottle cap and popped off the top with an unwavering grin.
Goddess, help me. They were barbarous godlings. She turned to the couch.
“I’m Marfóir.” The tallest man nodded and pointed beside him. “This is brother, Éag.”
The shortest one among the albino huddle was called death? How bizarre. No wonder the two sat together on the couch. Death and Killer were a pair best left to themselves. “Nice to meet you lads.” She handed over the beers and wiped her clammy hands on her shorts. “Are you hungry? Do I need to kill a few of the neighbor’s cows for supper?”
The foursome threw their heads back, hooting. Just thugs laughing like Vikings. Her gut sank at the strange scene in her front room. But then, the crones visited just this morning after a shape-shifting dragon dropped by and left Mr. Mourner to enchant her. She turned back to the kitchen where Black Elk leaned in the doorway.
He met her gaze and smacked his lips as if he pondered welcome to the Outer Limits.
Apparently, Gaelic wasn’t taught wherever or whenever the Orders educated him. Or he would have donned a stern glare. Nose. Hawk Eye. Killer. Death. Everything flew right over his head.
“I’m ready,” someone bellowed.
Glass clanked on her mother’s coffee table. She spun to find the men chugging on the bottles like they inhaled water in a desert. The man with the widest shoulders, Nose, stood.
“Ready for what?” she asked. The Goddess only knew.
“We’re off for the hunt.” The man nodded.
The albino bikers rose, ambling carefully toward the door around the coffee table as if the dark wood were a thick wedge of broken glass. Hopefully they weren’t setting out to kill the few cows needed to feed them.
“What are you hunting?” She feared the answer.
Killer walked straight toward her and leaned down close. So close she thought the man’s blood-red lips would latch onto hers. She doubted a knee to his leather-cloaked groin would make a difference. Somehow she stood her ground.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Black Elk step out of the doorway.
“I thought I’d find the bastard who was harassing you, Sister.” Killer’s voice timbered like a drum echoing inside a barrel.
Black Elk claimed a spot beside her.
“If you don’t mind,” Killer grumbled, turning to face her guardian. Although the blond was a head taller, Black Elk warned him with arms crossed over his own muscular chest.
“Nice kitty,” Killer thundered and thrust a thumb toward Mairi. “Anything happens to the priestess, and I’m coming for you.”
“Let’s go, Marfoíre,” Nose boomed. “His scent’s all over her.”
Reviews:
“Talk about a story that will keep you on the edge of your seat and telling others to leave you alone until you're finished. Ms. Moncrief has created a story unlike any other. It's the best when it comes to spine-tingling suspense. Her words are so visually written. I didn't feel like I was reading at all, I felt like I was living the story myself. The story is dynamite; it explodes off the pages and leaves you breathless for more. In the future, I will be more than excited to see a new release from Skhye Moncrief, not including what I'm ordering from her backlist!” Best Book of the Week ~Tulip, The Long and Short Reviews
Purchase Print Copy through Amazon. Click here.
What else could her behavior mean? Even though darkness shrouded her innocence, Brave Woman wouldn’t beg him to dance if she didn’t trust him.
She faced him, snaking her hands around his rocking hips, staring at his groin. She threw her head back, turned, and pressed her rucking ass into his groin.
The babe didn’t seem so innocent anymore.
She raised up on her toes to press her lips to his.
Hot need jolted him from lips to loin. He leaned down without drawing her against him and thrust his tongue between her soft lips. She sucked it deeply inside her warm moist mouth.
The only thing that could feel any better would be him ramming inside her. Claiming her. He struggled to keep his hands off her.
Gods, he didn’t want to lose control. How often did a man get a chance with a woman who was attracted to him? A woman he wanted? He would take her to the brink of her sanity. Make her beg for him to throw her on the bed. Then he would show her what a red man had to offer.
Her warm mouth slid away and she spun around him like a phantom, shaking her hips along with his. He was so damned hard he feared he would explode in his pants.
She edged up behind him, spooned him while never missing a beat in the music, and egged him on by pressing her round breasts into his ribs.
SKY: Wow! You just handed me ‘sizzling hot’ on a platter. Thanks! Every hero adores his heroine─ or maybe not. There’s friction between Druidess Mairi and Cochise at first. If Mairi could pop her head into this interview, what defining moment would she say started to thaw her heart toward Cochise? Was it something he did? Something he said?
SKHYE: Just relating to his cultural heritage. Mairi’s not stupid. Druids aren’t. If they were, they’d never survive time-traveling through history. So, she’s got this soft spot for Native-American cultures. She already knows much about him just in her interests.
SKY: In every great story there is a setting that stands out above all others. What would you say that is in Forbidden Eternity? Give us a glimpse of what you consider is by far the most enticing backdrop in this story.
SKHYE: [The astral plane, the place he doesn’t have to share with anyone, a place of questionable existence…]
“Shift, Skin-Changer. Crawl atop her and breathe her spirit out through her nose. Take her essence inside yourself. Guide her to the Light.”
Why did he think the task easier said than done?
The old woman blinked, her eerie eyes disappearing momentarily.
Something about her reaction sent a deadly wave of dread through his spirit.
Could he trust the Goddess of Shape Shifting? “If you’ve lied to me, for any reason, you know I will never trust you again.”
Bheur nodded. “You are my only hope, Caointeoir. The only hope of The People. All of humanity.”
Famous last words.
A chuckle lodged in his throat.
What luck he hadn’t been handed a contract to sign before being put to duty. He evoked the tingling in his chest, fell onto his paws, and hopped onto the bed.
Mairi slept like a snug child between his paws.
Good. He didn’t want her to see him this fricking vulnerable. Great Spirit just slit my jugular and let me bleed to death. He edged up to place both front paws by her head.
Without the sock, she would have been angelic in the faint silver light.
“That’s it, Caointeoir. She will exhale. Then you must inhale her spirit.”
Back-seat driver. He eased down to touch his nose against hers. She wiggled her head as if something tickled her in her sleep. His scent still clung to her mouth after she fed her hunger with their kiss. He leaned closer, sniffing her lips. The reeking dog smell hung over them like the smell of electricity right before a downpour.
Gods, she was beautiful. And so easily his. Right there. Ready for the taking. After all, Arthur said to do anything necessary. If he took her maidenhead, bound her spirit to his for eternity, they could dispense with sharing his sanctuary. But taking a woman who didn’t want him was like rolling in a cactus bed. Bad news. Especially when nobody he knew owned tweezers. And Brave Woman had been begging for Jamie.
Her hot breath stroked his whiskers.
Need shot through him.
Again the beautiful babe, sock gag and all, made him rock hard. She could be his with the swipe of one claw the way she lay helpless beneath his muscles and beating heart. But he wouldn’t muddy his history with another black mark. Not one more stroke. Although, all he could think of was stroking. Right into her maidenhead.
She wagged her head beneath him.
“Hurry, Caointeoir. She awakens.”
Mairi’s eyes flitted open. Her gaze cut through night’s darkness, locking on his. Panic flickered in the murky blue orbs. Her eyebrows squared. He didn’t move, waiting for her to breathe.
Shit, exhale, woman.
Mairi’s arms jerked. She was coming off the bed. She inhaled sharply, staring him down. He waited for her exhalation. He had to be ready.
Her breath knifed out of her like she no longer recognized him.
Jamie. She just wanted Jamie. Damn the pale ass could have her. He caught the first of her warm tickling breath and sucked the vapor into his lungs.
Her gaze widened as if she realized what took place. But he kept breathing the misty heat inside himself. Her spirit filled his lungs.
Refreshed him.
Cloaked his spirit.
Made him ache to fall on top of her.
He wanted to roll onto the bed. Mix her essence deep into his spirit. Mingle with her to the point she could never escape his body.
Gods, he felt whole.
Mairi was magic.
He would have gasped at his work save for risking the loss of one atom of her being.
Her eyelids closed. Her breathing ceased.
“She is asleep,” Bheur’s words seemed to draw near, then pull away like they were spoken through a wall of water. “Guard her well. I will summon you back when ‘tis safe for her return.”
No problem. Hot Babe’s spirit was better than Grandfather Peyote. He tried to climb over her but toppled onto Mairi’s arm, closed his eyes, and concentrated on his body.
Grandmother Earth to take me.
Grandfather Sky whisper all into existence.
I welcome the darkness of the Creator and shake free of this body to Journey into the Light.
The Light was close in the darkness. So close. But he didn’t want to let Mairi go. Didn’t want to stop feeling complete.
Grandmother Earth fell away in the shadows of what was. He floated up to the heavens. Toward the Land of Many Lodges, the pleasant place he yearned for but could never reach until death. The essence around him grayed, lightening until the point when the Light brightened to welcome him back to his pool and meadow. A special place he had never found where living humans wandered.
Something stirred in his lungs like a tickling breeze. The tickle strengthened to a miserable itch. Bile threatened to surge from his gut.
Gods, he needed to retch.
Heave.
Cough his heart out. He couldn’t lose his charge in passage. Would she know how to find her way back to her body? Where was the watery surface’s mirrored sheen? He peered upward, slapping a hand over his mouth.
The Light intensified but had yet to ripple with penetrating sunbeams the way it did when he approached his sanctuary’s threshold.
A chilling bile surged through his chest.
He was going to puke.
Now, the question, my friend, is where do you think this place is?
SKY: We’re almost out of time. As I’m sure everyone is eager to know─ what’s next, Skhye? Have you other releases due out soon? Are you writing anything right now?
SKHYE: SWORDSONG will be available June 25th. I’m waiting to hear back on another Time-Guardian submission, a novel with a Nordic hero.
SKY: Thank you so much for sharing, Skhye!
SKHYE: You’re very welcome. And thanks for raking me o’er the coals, my friend.
SKY: Chuckles. Anytime!
It’s not over yet! Here’s another taste…
Excerpt: Enter the Hell Hounds...
The God of the Sea and Bheur worked together to make Mairi's future unbelievably confusing.
Black Elk opened the door. Four enormous blonds stood in the porch.
How had they all fit into the doorframe? She couldn’t see anything beyond their heads and shoulders.
“Sister.” The closest one nodded.
They all looked like brothers, not twins, yet slightly different. All had shoulder-length wavy white hair brushing their black leather jackets. They probably hid red eyes behind those sunglasses. The Hell Hounds. “Do come in and sit down, gentlemen.” She waved into the sitting room. “Bheur’s grandsons are welcome in my home.”
The four men’s cheeks split with wide grins. Black Elk shot her a chiding look.
What could a lass do? The Goddess left naught to the imagination. The men were here. Black Elk would just have to get used to the situation. Five guardians would certainly prove better than one. She stepped back, permitting her guests’s entry.
Black Elk acquiesced in silence. The pale-skinned blonds barely fit through the doorway.
They were a wee bit taller than the Native American. But Gods tended to be quite tall regardless of their ancestry. A Sister just needed to learn how pure a godlings’ fairy blood was. Legend rumored that too much animal or human blood in the mix could affectively dilute a godling’s powers. “Would you care for tea?”
The men milled about the room until two sat on the sofa, the broadest-shouldered man on the loveseat, and the fourth in the wingback chair. They looked odd with sunglasses on inside the house. Were they hiding something?
“Do you have any beer?” the huge one timbered from the loveseat. “‘Tis been so long since I’ve had a good drink topside.”
Topside? They looked too large for submarine service. They certainly referred to the Underworld. “Aye. We keep a few around for our gentlemen visitors.”
All four grinned. She turned to the kitchen. Black Elk stood in the kitchen doorway like a man intent on forbidding her from pleasing the Gods.
By the God-dess-Spirit, hopefully he wouldn’t make a scene. “Please, let me pass,” she whispered.
He blinked at her slowly, turned his body sideways, and followed her to the refrigerator.
What was her guardian’s deal?
Cold air tumbled across the floor as she opened the icebox. Beer bottles clanked on the bottom of the door. She bent to collect four.
Black Elk leaned over the bottom door’s top. “Don’t you think it a bad call in getting your guards drunk?” he muttered.
She hadn’t thought of that. “You’re not drinking.” She flashed him a smile.
His disgusted glare snuffed her breath. So did the way his muscles bulged along his arms where he leaned over the door. The man was spectacular. And she knew it wrong to lead him on, how she would hate herself for hurting him in doing so. But his lips were so incredible. And that kiss. All she could ever dream of was one more kiss from him. And, perhaps, all he needed was one more kiss to calm his nerves in place of a beer.
Those astounding lips were so close. Her gut melted into syrup, flip-flopping and twisting like butterflies batted around trying to escape the goo. If the door hadn’t blocked her body from his, she would have crawled into his arms. Thrown everything away on this strange halfling who had shown up on her doorstep hours ago.
“Are you all right, Sister?” one of Bheur’s wee lads bellowed from the other room.
Black Elk sighed. “You’d best liquor up the circus clowns.”
Anything but kiss a halfling.
“I’m coming.” She strode around Black Elk’s perky arse to the living room clutching the chilly rations.
The closest man in the chair smiled, reaching for a cold beer. “I’m Srón, Sister.”
He must be the expert tracker with a name like nose. At least, he didn’t have a long wicked rat-tail. “’Tis nice to meet you, Srón.” She nodded and handed the man on the loveseat a beer.
“I’m Sully.” Another brute flashed a stunning grin.
Of course, a goddess of prophecy would have a son with hawk eyes. “Nice to meet you, Sully.”
He arched a snowy white eyebrow at her. A hint of flirtation hid in the action. He thrust his thumbnail beneath the bottle cap and popped off the top with an unwavering grin.
Goddess, help me. They were barbarous godlings. She turned to the couch.
“I’m Marfóir.” The tallest man nodded and pointed beside him. “This is brother, Éag.”
The shortest one among the albino huddle was called death? How bizarre. No wonder the two sat together on the couch. Death and Killer were a pair best left to themselves. “Nice to meet you lads.” She handed over the beers and wiped her clammy hands on her shorts. “Are you hungry? Do I need to kill a few of the neighbor’s cows for supper?”
The foursome threw their heads back, hooting. Just thugs laughing like Vikings. Her gut sank at the strange scene in her front room. But then, the crones visited just this morning after a shape-shifting dragon dropped by and left Mr. Mourner to enchant her. She turned back to the kitchen where Black Elk leaned in the doorway.
He met her gaze and smacked his lips as if he pondered welcome to the Outer Limits.
Apparently, Gaelic wasn’t taught wherever or whenever the Orders educated him. Or he would have donned a stern glare. Nose. Hawk Eye. Killer. Death. Everything flew right over his head.
“I’m ready,” someone bellowed.
Glass clanked on her mother’s coffee table. She spun to find the men chugging on the bottles like they inhaled water in a desert. The man with the widest shoulders, Nose, stood.
“Ready for what?” she asked. The Goddess only knew.
“We’re off for the hunt.” The man nodded.
The albino bikers rose, ambling carefully toward the door around the coffee table as if the dark wood were a thick wedge of broken glass. Hopefully they weren’t setting out to kill the few cows needed to feed them.
“What are you hunting?” She feared the answer.
Killer walked straight toward her and leaned down close. So close she thought the man’s blood-red lips would latch onto hers. She doubted a knee to his leather-cloaked groin would make a difference. Somehow she stood her ground.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Black Elk step out of the doorway.
“I thought I’d find the bastard who was harassing you, Sister.” Killer’s voice timbered like a drum echoing inside a barrel.
Black Elk claimed a spot beside her.
“If you don’t mind,” Killer grumbled, turning to face her guardian. Although the blond was a head taller, Black Elk warned him with arms crossed over his own muscular chest.
“Nice kitty,” Killer thundered and thrust a thumb toward Mairi. “Anything happens to the priestess, and I’m coming for you.”
“Let’s go, Marfoíre,” Nose boomed. “His scent’s all over her.”
Reviews:
“Talk about a story that will keep you on the edge of your seat and telling others to leave you alone until you're finished. Ms. Moncrief has created a story unlike any other. It's the best when it comes to spine-tingling suspense. Her words are so visually written. I didn't feel like I was reading at all, I felt like I was living the story myself. The story is dynamite; it explodes off the pages and leaves you breathless for more. In the future, I will be more than excited to see a new release from Skhye Moncrief, not including what I'm ordering from her backlist!” Best Book of the Week ~Tulip, The Long and Short Reviews
Purchase Print Copy through Amazon. Click here.
Purchase in e-format:
Sony e-reader. Click here.
Purchase through Wild Rose Press. Click here.
Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Forbidden Eternity and a $5 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press!
~Sky
~Sky
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