BOOK #5 OF WAR SERIES
LISA BETH DARLING
BLURB-With nearly four billion souls lost to the ravages of anarchy and the dreaded disease Major Falls, Ares and Ravenjourney the Mortal World vainly reaching for a sliver of what was only to discover what will be. Unleashed by Apollo, Major Falls—a weaponized version of the flu and rabies-- has wiped out every person of watery Mortal Blood.
From the fiery wreckage a new world is slowly arising one where the descendants of Olympians, Celts, Dark Fae, and all manner of Magickal Being will rule. For the last millennium the Dark Kingdom has sent small legions of its Daughters in search of its Lost Queen. Among their number is Lenora, a sharp tongued Dark Fae who joins up with ARES hoping to get close to its leader, Raven. And she does.
The Wolf inside the God of War contracts Major Falls. As Ares and Athena wander the world hoping to curtail further damage by obliterating weapons of mass destruction he slowly succumbs to the sickness taking over his fevered rabid mind. Ares may not live to see the glory of Olympus restored nor fight to keep his Wife. If he does, how high will be the price for Ares' life? How long will Alena have to keep paying Apollo?
EXCERPT:
EXCERPT:
Even the God of Love is no angel when Desire comes to call.
Knowing there wasn't a chance in hell that she would wake tonight Eros' long denied desire for her began overtaking him. He hadn't lied to her tonight, ever since he first saw her in that wretched camp he wanted her. If it hadn't been for Apollo she would be his now. She'd never know Ares' touch. She'd be his sweet Maggie, the Wife of the Winged God of Love and she would sit upon a Golden Throne of Doves. He would shroud her in the finest linens with golden sandals clinging softly to her delicate feet. At night she'd coo out his name when he made love to her again and again until Eos blazed across the sky.
In that one single moment, Eros hated his Father more than ever before and Ares pulled some pretty fruity shit on him over the eons. Shaking bronze hands reached out to touch the sleeping woman. They landed on her throat and she let out a drunken sigh as they caressed the nape of her neck. The bronze cock between his legs sparked to life with a tingle of electricity. Eros leaned over the bed, leaned down, in and close to her ear and whispered, "I love you, Maggie." With only inches separating them, her breasts heaved and her back arched off the bed at the sound of his voice until her hardening nipples brushed against his bare hairless chest making his whole body quiver. "Right or wrong, I want you. The rest of it be damned, you should have been mine."
Biting down on his bottom lip Eros made the final decision to ignore his head for a while and do what came naturally to him; follow his heart. He found his hands in her hair, kneading, gripping, letting go and grasping again with growing passion. When his lips closed down over hers she answered sweetly, softly, as though it were meant to be. Fire washed over him, blazed in his heart and made it thunder. Her tongue parted his lips and she let out a low moan as she tried to raise her drunken hands from her side but couldn't make it. Instead they fell down, open and flexing, as though inviting him to delve deeper.
Settling his body over her, gently coming to rest atop of her, the scent of rich honeysuckle and fresh baking bread began rising in the air. Nothing but the burgeoning loin cloth between them, Eros let his tongue explore the back of her mouth as his hands ran wildly down the curve of her flanks. Maggie cooed and grunted and moaned in his ear, her breath hot on the nape of his neck, making his cock harder as it called to the growing desire threatening to flood out from every pore of his taut bronze body. Instinct took over and Eros ground his hips into hers. Again she answered without hesitation. Eros swallowed hard and sweat broke out all over him. His fingertips grabbed the curved of her hips as his lips broke away only to land on the nape of her neck and suckle their way down her willing form from neck to shoulders to breasts with their perky pink nipples standing at attention just begging his lips to seize down over them and suck. So he did with zeal, his moist tongue flicked over them and she cooed again making the hot Ichor in his veins come to a full rolling boil. "I want you," he whispered heatedly as he made a beeline for that unbridled space between her legs. The place where heaven awaited and the sultry scent of honeysuckle arose tempting his nose, filling his mind, and making his cock roar.
AUTHOR BIO:
In the 4th grade I discovered that I was a writer when we were given our first creative writing assignment. We were to write stories about a baby bird's flight and read them to the class. I put pencil to paper and was instantly whisked away by a force I couldn't explain. I knew that I had found my calling. Everyone read their happy stories to the class. I got up and told of how the baby bird flew too high, hit a plane, crashed to the ground and died. I told of how the mama bird and daddy bird cried of how even God was upset sending the rains pouring from the sky. The class was speechless when I finished they were all just staring at me. The teacher kept me after class told me my story was very good but it was different from the others. She asked me if I'd ever heard of Icarus and did I base my story on him. But I had yet to encounter Greek Mythology or hear a whisper of Icarus. As she let me leave class she again told me how good the story was but suggested I might want to write something happier next time. I asked her why and she had no answer. 40+ years, 16 novels, and some 30 short stories later and I still haven't taken her advice.
In the 4th grade I discovered that I was a writer when we were given our first creative writing assignment. We were to write stories about a baby bird's flight and read them to the class. I put pencil to paper and was instantly whisked away by a force I couldn't explain. I knew that I had found my calling. Everyone read their happy stories to the class. I got up and told of how the baby bird flew too high, hit a plane, crashed to the ground and died. I told of how the mama bird and daddy bird cried of how even God was upset sending the rains pouring from the sky. The class was speechless when I finished they were all just staring at me. The teacher kept me after class told me my story was very good but it was different from the others. She asked me if I'd ever heard of Icarus and did I base my story on him. But I had yet to encounter Greek Mythology or hear a whisper of Icarus. As she let me leave class she again told me how good the story was but suggested I might want to write something happier next time. I asked her why and she had no answer. 40+ years, 16 novels, and some 30 short stories later and I still haven't taken her advice.
OF WAR Series Trailer:
LINKS:
Author website: http://www.moonsmusings.com
Author blog: http://lbdarling.wordpress.com
Author Facebook: http://facebook.com/lbdarling
Author website: http://www.moonsmusings.com
Author blog: http://lbdarling.wordpress.com
Author Facebook: http://facebook.com/lbdarling
Thank you so much! This looks great!!! If anyone out there has any questions or comments for me please reply here. I'll be around for the day!
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