Thursday, August 22, 2013

Devil's Bitch VBT

Erotic Historical Romance
Categories: Action/Adventure
Publisher: Naughty Nights Press
Heat Level: Sizzling
Word Count: 70,000
Description:
Norelia, Imperial heir and zealous second-in-command of the Endless Army, is cornered by a wager against her father, the Emperor.
The stakes? To marry the winner of the next Summer Games in order to ensure the continuation of the Imperial line. Confident she will win, she is devastated when a mysterious contender named Reoth defeats her and claims not only the title of Champion, but claims Norelia as well. A misplaced note reveals Reoth and her father placed wagers on Reoth's ability to "tame" her, proving it was all a game after all.
When her father is killed in a surprise invasion, the Empire stands on the brink of war and Norelia is thrust into the center of it with Reoth, a man she'd sooner kill than trust. As Reoth admits knowledge regarding who is behind this invasion, can Norelia determine where his true allegiance lies before the Empire, and her heart, are destroyed forever?
Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains explicit sex scenes (including BDSM) and/or situations and adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.



Excerpt:
She was pouring herself a cup of water when she made out the hurried staccato of studded leather sandals echo in the outer corridor. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and gooseflesh raced down her arms. Something in the quality of those footfalls let her know the news was dire.
Still holding the cup and pitcher, she came around the dais and saw a warrior wearing the crest of a Strike Captain looking with dismay at the empty hall.
“You there, girl!” His voice seemed to slap the walls. “Go fetch a runner to find the Dominion Commander and have her meet me here. Tell her Strike Captain Winjaro has come with dire news.”
Norelia raised an eyebrow at him and finished pouring her water. “Have I been gone from my army so long, Strike Captain, that you cannot recognize your old Commander?” Her own voice boomed off the walls, low and commanding, and every note sounding just as she had when she commanded legions.
The man blinked and shook his head. “Commander!” He shot to attention and saluted her. His face was red as a summer strawberry. “I did not recognize you.”
She waved away his apology. “You called me 'Dominion Commander.'” His news was grave, indeed.
The Captain lifted his eyes to meet hers, and Norelia saw a bleakness there which at once told her everything. “It was a battle unlike any I have ever seen. Your successor fell in defense of the Emperor, Commander. The fighting brought me close to the Imperial bearers, and the General’s last orders to me were to kill horses bringing the Dominion Commander back with me. To bring you back, your Highness.”
The General’s last orders. There was a roaring in her ears that rendered whatever else Winjaro said inaudible. The Dominion Commander. The world went grey.
The General’s last orders.
“He–” Her throat clenched tight. It was difficult to draw breath. “He called me Dominion Commander?” Small things, tangible details. Cling to those. A lifeline. Yes. Clutch them tightly. Pull herself out of the fog.
Winjaro nodded and came closer. “Yes, Commander. They fought unlike any people we have ever seen. Dominion Commander Aramadi fell defending the Emperor. Kallan shouted his orders to me, and I confess I did not obey instantly. I hesitated, and watched his crest fall.”
Roaring in her ears. Push it behind her. Greyness...everywhere...
Force color back into her eyes. Focus. People. The advisors, the Guild of Magisters, the High Priest, logicians. Yes. She had summoned them earlier.
Norelia took a step and felt the vague sensation of cutting glass beneath her feet. When had she dropped her cup? The entire right side of her dress was soaking wet. She cleared her throat. “Strike Captain Winjaro.” Her voice rang within the hall, solid and confident, betraying none of the turmoil roiling within her. “Tell me what has befallen the Emperor, my father.”
Winjaro removed his helmet, and the entire room gasped. The shock was so thick it seemed to smother the very air from the room. “I am most humbly sorry to be the bearer of such news, Commander. It weighs my heart to bring you sadness. The Lord Dominion General Kallan's final orders to me were to bring you news of this new enemy at the Golden Bridge...and to tell you that the Emperor, your father, is dead.”
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Prize is 2 eBook copies (1 each to 2 winners) of "Of Hallowed Fiends and Darkest Fortune" from Delena Silverfox. Contest is tour-wide, open internationally and ends Aug 24. Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Aug 12: Danita Minnis
Aug 16: Crystal's Many Reviews (Review)



About the Author:
For as long as she can remember, Delena Silverfox has always loved writing more than anything. When she was three she taught herself how to read with alphabet magnets and her trusty Speak n' Spell, but it was when she realized she could use those same words to share what was in her imagination that the magic took hold.
She pursued an English/Creative Writing degree in college, but after seeing so many friends lose their passion in school, she changed her major to Psychology and pursued writing on her own. At 21, she moved to Portland, OR where she spent the next eleven years, and considers that the city where she truly "grew up," as it influenced so much of who she is today as a person and an author.
She discovered an affinity for erotic romance after getting to know the underground BDSM community and trying her hand at adding a few elements into her romance writing. What she encountered was, to her, overwhelming encouragement to seek publication. Without that support, she would still be writing serial installments on BDSM forums.
Delena lives in Indianapolis, IN with her daughter, husband, and a klutzy cat named Pícaro. When she's not writing, she's working on finishing up her Psych degree, cooking, making crafts with her daughter, or sewing and crocheting.

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