Friday, 2 October 2015

SILVERDAWN NOW SELLING IN E-Book at Kindle
and Smashwords.
URBAN FANTASY Romance -Time slip.



 Silverdawn, daughter of Mikkasah, born to the magick. Mikkasah, King of Rastehm is forced to send his only child into the unknown future of the 20th century Australia, where she grows to maturity and moves to London with her adopted parents. She has no knowledge of her origins nor that she holds the key to the safety or destruction of both her new world and her old, until one night, she is stalked by a lion and a griffin, and cast into an adventure that will change her life. A dark knight becomes her saviour. Faren Malaan, Knight of Paladia, is sent forward in time to track and retrieve the Crystal Pyramid. The king’s astronomers have learned that the pyramid, which shifts through the portals of time, is cracked. And, if not restored, the sorcerer, Isanti's demons will escape. Through sheer luck, Istani was not imprisoned by the Goddess, when she created the Pyramid to banish him and his demons. Istani travels through time, taking over the bodies of innocents, then casting them aside. But this time he is trapped in the sickly weak body of Peter Waymer. His only escape from the cancer eating away at him is to find the Pyramid, release his demons and have them in turn heal him. With one thought in mind after his escape, to wreak destruction upon mankind Celtic Mythology, Dark Urban Fantasy, Time Travel, Lust and Romance! The fate of two worlds rests in the hands of a banished Princess of Rastehm and a Knight of Paladia who is battling his own personal demons. They must join forces with three friends they meet along their way to restore the Crystal Pyramid to Deharna, and battle the tormented mind of Iraj who will stop at nothing to gain his prize.



Excerpt

...She watched him, silent, bemused, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Aching for him to come to her, aching for him to fill her as no man ever had.
He rose and, in the muted light of the bed lamp and the dying embers of the fire, she watched his hands go to the fastening of his jeans. He flicked open the top button and their eyes met. He paused, running his gaze over her body then cursed loudly and swung toward the window, threading a hand through his hair. “I am sorry. I cannot do this.” His voice came like the crack of a whip in the silence.
Elanessë turned onto her side, her face flushed. She reached for his raw silk shirt and pressed the dark cloth against her breasts. “Was it something I did?”
He turned. Her skin was so fair, so beautiful, against the ebony of his shirt. The sight of her distressed face made his heart weep—a fair rose he had almost defiled.
She turned from his gaze, unable to meet the blueness of his eyes now circumstances had changed. “I was too forward? Is it because I allowed you to do that? I know I am probably different from the women you have known…” She left the sentence hanging.
Faren hurried to kneel before her, framing her face in his hands. He pushed her damp tousled hair back from her cheeks. “Never think that. You are perfect. It is I. I feel nothing but loathing for my own weakness. I made a promise to myself, which I have now broken. I should never have let this go so far. I am but a Knight in your father’s court. You are the Princess of Rastehm, perhaps one day to be queen. Your father means too much to me for me to besmirch his daughter.”
“And I mean too little to you to love,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes.
He wiped the tears away with his thumb then released her and rose to move to the window. He stared into the night. Funny how the brilliance of the stars reflected none of the pain that he felt.
The sharp claw of desire clutched at his gut. He was so hard with the wanting of this woman, he thought he would burst. Yet he could not bring himself to take her. As much as his mind and body screamed to do so, his head told him it would go against all his teachings as a Knight of Paladia. “I know little of love, Elanessë. I have never had time for matters of the heart. I am but a rough soldier. I do not know if I understand what love is.”
Elanessë donned his shirt, which came just below her thighs, and rose to follow him. Her arms snaked about his waist; she pressed her cheek to the hard warmth of his skin. “Then, Sir Knight, I shall teach you.” She felt a tremor run through his body as her breasts pressed against his back.
He stepped away, deliberately putting distance between them, and turned to face her. “Perhaps, but you are still who you are, and I am who I am.”
Elanessë felt her heart clench. What could she say to stop his words of rejection? Stop him from walking out of this room and never touching her again. Even the thought was too painful to contemplate. “And never the twain shall meet?” she asked softly, almost flippantly, while the knife pain in her breast twisted a little more. “What of Guinevere and Lancelot?”
“And to what end did they come?” he countered dryly. “He a monk and she a nun.”
“You don’t know that for certain.”
Faren raised a dark brow. “If I could change the proof I would, but to refute the truth is akin to holding back the waning of the moon.” He gave a bow and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips.
The gesture seemed to Silverdawn only to distance them more, slotting her neatly into her place—princess to his knight, far beyond his reach.
“You are a stubborn man, Faren Malaan.”
“Goodnight, princess.” He rounded to stride to the door.
Elanessë found her voice as he reached for the handle. “One question.”
He stilled but did not turn.
“Does the dragon tattoo bear any significance?”
Faren glanced down at the red dragon that scaled his arm from elbow to shoulder then turned, his gaze locking on Silverdawn. “All Knights of Paladia receive the dragon on the day of our investiture. It is our insignia.” He pulled the door wide.
“And are damsels not sacrificed to temper the dragons?”
“Not this time, my lady, not this time,” he said, not turning as he pulled the door closed behind him.


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