An All Hallowed Tale – Part 3 (Giveaway!)

If you read my first or second post, I’m sharing excerpts from my new series, Inherited Damnation.


Book 1, Cursed to Kill, is presently available.

Book 2, Tormented by Darkness is available December 7.

The third book, Destined to Die, is available December 21st, for Yule.



Part 1, an excerpt from Cursed to Kill, and Part 2, an excerpt from Tormented by Darkness are already posted. I’m running a contest through midnight Halloween – read all three excerpts, comment on all three, and one name will be randomly chose to receive a copy of your choice of my currently available books.



DESTINED TO DIE EXCERPT

He really liked holding her hand. The warmth of her skin filled him with the false promise that if he held on long enough he could absorb the decency she possessed.

Faith followed as he led her to the car, silent and introspective. He knew he should say something—she’d gone out of her way to entertain him tonight. But words failed each time he tried. He couldn’t get past the one thing that was firmly lodged in his throat: Kiss me, Faith.

They drove in the same quiet. Belen remained wrapped up in the conflict brewing inside him and searching for a way to bring a firm, final end to this nonsense. He answered when she spoke, but tension crackled between them with each passing block. He couldn’t say whether it was awkwardness, or just the climax of their shared attraction. Whatever caused it though, the electrified air drove him to near madness. If he could have stopped the car and run ten blocks to work the kinks out of his system, he would have.

His house was dark, save for the solitary light glowing over the threshold. At ten minutes to eleven, the oddity announced his siblings had gone out for the night. In the three months Dáire had been living with him, Belen couldn’t recall wanting his brother around. Tonight, he’d have surrendered his elemental powers to have Dáire sitting on the couch.

Even Isolde, for that matter.

Faith opened the door first, climbing out and taking a piece of Belen with her as their hands inevitably severed. He curled his fingers into his palm, closing his eyes against the sudden lance of anguish. With a deep breath, he steeled himself against what he must do, and exited the car. “Faith, I enjoyed tonight, but—”

Her lips touched his, and Belen’s heart came to a screeching stop. He remained motionless, frozen from head to toe, as her mouth feathered across his, seeking, beseeching him to acknowledge the desire that arced between them.

The tip of her tongue teased one corner of his mouth, slid along the inside of his lower lip. A low, feral groan rumbled in his throat as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. He angled his head and captured her lower lip, pulling it into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth.

Faith’s hands fastened in his long hair, her nails curled against his scalp. She kissed him with unabashed abandon, forcing him to acknowledge all the yearning he’d bottled up inside. His fingers curled into her narrow waist, and he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with hers like he had spent a lifetime waiting for this moment.

Maybe he had. It sure as hell felt like it. The velvety slide of her tongue was sweeter than honey. More painful than the sword that had plunged into his side when he’d taken up arms against the Romans the day the Selgovae were invaded.

And more saving than if the Ancestors had promised him a life without the darkness.

He slid one palm up her back, pressing her closer. Her breasts pillowed against his chest, her hips ground flush with his. Through the thin material of their formal clothes, he could feel the heat of her feminine center, and that warmth pulled another throaty groan from the depths of his soul. How he had craved her, yearned for this…

Belen’s fingers tangled in the nape of her hair, tugging the loose mass free. Long silken strands cascaded over the back of his hand, down her back, and brushed against the hand he kept fastened at her waist. He breathed through his nose, savoring the scent of almonds, the rich flavor of her mouth, the perfect way Faith’s body molded into his. She was so willing, so eager, and tonight he would…

He pulled back with a soft, protesting grunt.

Tonight he would not.

~~~~~

~Claire

http://www.claireashgrove.com/

An All Hallowed Tale – Part 2 (Giveaway)

If you read my first post, I’m sharing excerpts from my new series, Inherited Damnation.

Book 1, Cursed to Kill, is presently available.
Book 2, Tormented by Darkness is available December 7.
The third book, Destined to Die, is available December 21st, for Yule.

Part 1, an excerpt from Cursed to Kill is already posted. Part 3 will be available in a third post. I’m running a contest through midnight Halloween – read all three excerpts, comment on all three, and one name will be randomly chose to receive a copy of your choice of my currently available books.

~~~~~

TORMENTED BY DARKNESS EXCERPT


Rhiannon struggled against the demonic pull of her divided soul that demanded she surrender to the tidal wave of desire building within her. Mick’s kiss scalded parts of her she hadn’t known existed. The seeking thrust of his hips, the way his big hard body enveloped her with promises of unbridled pleasure made it near impossible to resist. She longed to lean back on the table, draw him into her arms, and give over to arousal.

Yet if she did, she’d never come back. She’d fall so deeply into him her heart wouldn’t stand a chance at resisting his charm, his devastating good looks. And giving her heart to Mick was the biggest wrong she could commit. Her father’s curse already hungered for death. She fought the dark call daily. But that ever-present restlessness was nothing compared to the inescapable damnation that came with love.

Love meant killing Mick.

As the reality of circumstance punched through her momentary bliss, she slipped her hands to his shoulders and gently pushed him away. His mouth left hers reluctantly, lips clinging for a drawn-out heartbeat before he let go and lifted his head. Confusion passed behind his onyx gaze.

“I do want you, but not like this.” Not until she could share Cian’s mortality and escape her sire’s evil curse. But Mick would never understand that reasoning. As it was, the frown that crinkled his brow said he was having a difficult enough time understanding her sudden refusal.

She caught his hands, brought them together, and lifted them to her lips. Her eyes held his as she kissed each one. “You need to rest, Mick, not exhaust yourself further.”

“I’m old enough to know what I need, thank you.” As annoyance flicked over his handsome face, he turned away. A sigh tumbled free, heavy like the sudden tension in the room. “Sorry. You’re right. This is a bad idea.”

Rhiannon flinched. Not so much a bad idea. Just a bad idea now. If she were mortal, if she’d found another portion of her mother’s spell book so she could lift the curse, she’d rush headlong down this path, regardless of consequence.

Mick swiveled to face her, a wistful smile playing on his lips, regret shadowing his dark eyes. He cupped the side of her face in one hand. His thumb stroked her cheek. “You’re so sweet. So good.”

If you only knew.

She willed herself to smile even as she heard the finality in his voice and realized her rejection had just destroyed any chance of someday in the future. Mick was shutting her out. Closing the door on what had just erupted between them for reasons she couldn’t understand. Whatever they were, the warm energy that had invited her to get close morphed into aloof nothingness.

Mick pushed a hand through his hair, and his smile took on more strength. “Thanks for bringing the arrangements by. And for feeding me.”

As he lowered his hand, it passed through a ray of late-evening sunlight streaming in through the window. An iridescent blend of purple, gold and blue that she hadn’t noticed before gleamed against his fingertips. Her heart knocked into her ribs as her breath caught.

The mark of her mother’s powers—Mick had touched the Celt high priestess, Nyamah’s lost spell book.

~~~~~

~Claire
http://www.claireashgrove.com/

An All-Hallowed Tale – Part 1 (Chance to Win!)

Post an excerpt, they said. Easy! I thought.

Not so much in hindsight. I have too many things I’d like to share. With seven releases coming between now and March, it’s a little difficult to decide, “Do I share what’s available now, or do I share what’s coming down the pipe?”

So, I’ve decided the answer to that question is to go with the whole shebang, and give you a taste of my newest series, Inherited Damnation.


Damned At Birth...

Thousands of years ago, sixteen children were born to the Selgovae High Priestess, Nyamah. Eight were sacrificed by their incubus father in a quest for eternal power. Eight Nyamah secreted away. For betraying her evil mate, she was executed, her body divided, her soul chained to the mortal plane.

Nyamah's magic lived on. Written before her death, her book of sacred rituals details the means of destroying the incubus, Drandar. If this is accomplished, her spirit will at last rest peacefully.

But the immortal children who can carry out the rituals are divided. Some crave the innocence of light and mortal existance. Some thrive on the dark needs of their conflicted souls. Others tend the balance, forever devoted to the ancient Celt ways.

None may ever know the beauty of love, for if they should, they cannot resist the calling to kill the one who holds their heart.


CURSED TO KILL EXCERPT

Cian opened his fingers and dropped the sandwich on the tabletop. He’d hurt Miranda. After he’d poured his soul into her, along with his tainted seed, he had shredded her to bits. He didn’t need words to tell him this – her expression said everything. Pain. Betrayal. Sorrow – all of it shone in her eyes, gutting him until he bled alongside her. It might have been easier if he had just carved out her heart.

If he ever had the chance to make this right again, he would fall to his knees at her feet and beg. She would never believe he was over two-thousand years old, that his blood was half demonic, and all the other fantastic reasons he had forced her away. But maybe, just maybe, he could find something right to say. Something that mended all the bisected bits of her heart.

Angry with his fate, frustrated with his impossible choices, he kicked the chair opposing him. It skittered across the kitchen floor, clanged into the counter, and topped sideways. The clatter satisfied a portion of his agitation.

“You’re in love with her,” Rhiannon observed quietly as she stepped into the doorway.

Cian swore beneath his breath, in no mood for his sister’s well-intended badgerings.

“That’s what this is about isn’t it? The brooding. The indecision. The inability to do anything but rage.” She moved across the room and eased into the chair at his right. Her warm hand fell on his arm, her touch soothing to his agitated skin. “Why didn’t you tell me, Ci?”

Tell her what? That their curse was ripping him in half? That for the first time in his immortal creation he loathed what he was? What they all were? He clenched his teeth and looked away from her probing blue eyes.

“Now I understand why Belen was so mad about you disappearing into your room with her.” A soft chuckle accompanied the wry shake of her head. “You have something he wants.”

“Sibling rivalry at its damnedest,” Cian muttered.

She cocked her head, watching him with keen intelligence. Perhaps a touch of higher wisdom. Cian didn’t know exactly what she latched onto, but he resented her intuition. Her ability to read him so well.

“Miranda,” she murmured thoughtfully.

He glanced sideways at his sister. Not once had he revealed Miranda’s name. Unless they’d been eavesdropping on his encounter in the hall, no one should know.

“Belen knew her name. He’s met her, hasn’t he?”

Visions of the one evening the three of them had spent together flashed before his eyes. Belen sugarcoating his voice, wrapping seduction around Miranda in attempts to draw her away from Cian. Coercion meant to entice, pleasure he would grant, all the while plotting how he intended to draw out her death.

Surprising even to himself, a low growl rumbled in the back of Cian’s throat.

“Cian, tell her.”

He slammed his palms down on the tabletop and rocketed to his feet. “Tell her, what exactly, Rhiannon? That I’ve envisioned methods of killing her that make acts of torture look like child’s play?”

~~~~~~~

Parts 2 and 3 will be available in later posts. If you’re looking for a freebie, comment on all three, and one name will be chosen to receive a copy of your choice of my currently available books.


~Claire
http://www.claireashgrove.com/