A World at War…
Shape-shifting Lemurian warriors battle against a deadly enemy in the dark of night. The prize—Earth’s most precious resource—water, and the fate of humankind.
A reckless leader…
Panthera leader Demir is stuck in a coma after taking a mysterious liquid-filled dart intended for another. Trapped in his own body, memories of his reckless, violent past and his lost mate, Eleanor, haunt his mind. When Aramie, his second in command, takes control of the Pride, she makes a decision which results in devastating consequences. After Demir wakes from his coma, he must impose punishment despite his unbidden desire to claim Aramie as his mate.
A female warrior…
Aramie honed her battle skills defending herself from males hell-bent on making her a mated female, the one thing she vowed never to become. Her hidden feelings for Demir drive her to find a cure for his coma, but her quest results in a painful sacrifice and grief propels her into a solo mission for revenge. After he finds her, they face the enemy together. Now she must decide—submit to him as his mate, or lose him forever.
After finishing a rewarding career in finance and accounting, it was time for Rosalie Redd to put away the spreadsheets and take out the word processor. She writes Fantasy/Science Fiction Romance inspired by classics from the science fiction, fantasy, and horror genres layered with a good, hot dose of romance.
She lives in Oregon, where rain is just another excuse to keep writing. When not at her computer, you can find her at Jazzercise, waterfall collecting in the Pacific Northwest, or relaxing with her husband and their pesky cat, Snookums.
Demir tensed. A healing stone? Was it possible? A tiny drop of hope weaseled its way into his chest.
Sidea inhaled and let out a slow breath. “With Demir back, you won’t have to fight the males anymore. Even though our species heals fast, I hate to see you get injured defending your role as interim leader.”
He fought against the invisible bonds, straining, kicking in his mind. In his condition, he couldn’t lead, and because he still lived, Aramie wasn’t officially Pride leader. His gut twisted into a tight knot. He’d put her in an awkward position, and he hated himself for it.
“I need to finish.” Aramie’s voice returned to a normal volume.
The chair creaked as she settled in her spot next to his bed. Tools clinked together. Cool metal caressed the skin on his cheeks.
Small tendrils of hair fell onto his cheek, tickling his skin. He relaxed again under her care. His mind reeled through a storm of confusion, but he couldn’t pinpoint its source. All he knew was a welcoming peace at her touch.
“I’ll see you in the Grand Hall.” Sidea’s words hung in the air.
Her soft footsteps retreated across the floor. The door clicked shut.
“I wish you would talk to me, tell me what I should do.” Aramie caressed the hair around his mouth, wiping away the stray strands she’d clipped. Her finger circled his diamond stud above the hairline of his lip.
He wanted to grab her wrists, make her stop, and part of him was glad he couldn’t. All his adult life he’d avoided physical contact. Even with Eleanor, his deceased mate, he’d controlled when and how she touched him. To have Aramie touch him now, in such a personal way, beat against his spirit, reinforcing his weakness.
“The males only follow my command in deference to you.” Her voice contained a small hitch.
The flat end of the scissors rubbed against his skin. With gentle care her fingers glided over his upper lip, and he wanted to lick her, taste her skin on his tongue. Her attention to him teased his nerves, increasing his yearning. He’d gone from relaxed to being enticed in a matter of moments. In his mind, his cat howled in frustration.
“Sidea and I will find Blue Pool, find the healing stone. I won’t stop until we do.”
A drop of wetness splashed on his chin, and she wiped it away. Why did the females cry over him? Had she gone soft? If he could, he’d tell her to suck it up. He’d chosen her as his second in command for a reason.
Metal clinked against metal. She must’ve put the scissors back on the tray. That meant she would leave him soon. His stomach clenched. Why did he care? The only females he’d ever cared about were Eleanor and Melissa.
Eleanor had been timid and submissive—a perfect mated female. She’d always done as he’d asked, and never once challenged his authority. Her beautiful smile and deep green eyes were as clear to him as the last time he’d seen her, over five hundred years ago when the great scourge had claimed her life. Bile rose in his throat. It seemed like only yesterday.
Even though his lifespan was over two thousand years, he still had more time than not…or so he used to think. At this point, he wasn’t sure he had more than a few days left.
The memory of his mate reminded him of Melissa, who’d looked so like his Eleanor he’d obsessed over her. What a fool he’d been, pining for a female who didn’t want him. When she became pregnant with the king’s child, he’d lost his lucidity and threatened her. Aramie had interfered, commanding him to stop. He’d slapped his own warrior across the face for her insolence, but he’d let Melissa go.
After all he’d done, Aramie was here now, attending to his needs. I am such a shit.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She rose from her chair and padded to the door, lingering there for a moment. Her soft breaths sounded loud in the quiet room.
“Please come back to me,” she whispered.
She really doesn’t want to be Pride leader…
The door closed behind her, but the enchanting scent of strawberries lingered.