This is where I'll be pulling seven paragraphs from some of my favorite books - an excellent chance to showcase some awesome scenes. I hope you like them as much as I do! :-)
Today I've taken a scene from THE LONE WARRIOR by Denise Rossetti. Walker and Mehcredi are on a sailing ship hunting for a wizard who killed Walker's people. They're in disguise, posing as master and slave, when another man asks Walker to send Mehcredi to his cabin for the night.
"I have not yet had my fill," the swordsmaster said calmly.
Vezil set his cup down with a clink. "I don't understand." A frown creased his brow. "You're a one-name. What's the problem?"
"This," gritted Walker, "is the problem."
In a single, smooth movement, he rose, grasped Mehcredi around the waist and swung her into his body, her back to the Trinitarian. The other hand flipped up her veil. Before she could blink, the swordsmaster's hard mouth descended on hers.
"Mmpf," she said as their teeth clinked. Her fingers clutched spasmodically at his shoulders. She couldn't breathe. This was kiss, this...this invasion? Godsdammit, she was going to pass out for lack of air. She stiffened, pulling back.
Walker's fingers flexed against her cheek in an unmistakable signal, the pressure of his lips eased and she could breathe again, more or less. Sweet Sister, this was what he meant, a public exhibition. Deliberately, she relaxed, grounding and centering the way he'd taught her in a fighting salle, and he gathered her close again, one palm stroking up and down her spine, the way you'd soothe a nervous cat. She'd promised not to feed him his own balls, except that standing in the circle of his arms on the sunlit deck, she had not the slightest urge to do him harm. His body was so hard, her breasts were mashed against a wall of unyielding muscle, and gods, he was hot, his spicy smell filling her head and making it swim. Every nerve in her body quivering, she pressed closer, tilting her head to offer a better angle. The hilt of his sword pushed into her belly.
Beyond that, she didn't know what to do, so she softened her mouth and let him take the lead. He'd taught her everything, she thought muzzily, had given her the discipline and peace of the nea-kata. Walker had reshaped her life, he could teach her this too. Her fell back against his arm.
Sworn to vengeance.
Blinded by love.
Only one thing can bend a body of steel and melt a heart of ice.
Walker, an earth shaman, has dedicated his life to the
annihilation of the demon warriors who destroyed his desert tribe. As
the lone survivor of the massacre, he atones by wreaking vengeance as a
lethal mercenary. But his latest captive is a daring and new kind of
challenge.
She is the assassin Mehcredi, forced to work alongside Walker as
penance for her crimes. Abandoned as a child, Mehcredi has no concept of
human relationships, no reserve, no fears, and she boldly walks through
Walker’s barriers as if they were mist.
Embarking on a journey of naked revenge—and pure ecstasy—they will
discover pleasures once alien to them both. But in their shadow is the
most powerful and reviled demon warrior of them all—the Necromancer.
He’s vowed to destroy Walker and Mehcredi once and forever, even if he
must hold the entire world ransom to do it...
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