When a woman becomes fertile, the ache for sexual fulfillment is overwhelming. Rowena, a Maida scientist, must learn to spread her legs with as much relish as she has for scientific discoveries. Can she give her body and heart to a man who is more myth than her rational mind can comprehend?
Tulon, a Centaur, exiled from his clan because he's different, has been in human form for two years after Maida warriors captured him. He can't find one redeeming quality in the Maida until he catches the scent of Rowena -- a woman in heat. Chosen to appease her lust, he claims every inch of her silky skin, which releases his magic.
Can two beings with different beliefs embrace the fact that myths can become real when sizzling magic, searing heat and passion engulf them? Or will a challenge by Tulon's nemesis break the fragile trust, forcing Rowena to flee for her sanity?
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Love Me Wild by Renee Field
"What matters to you most?" she asked.
Stupid woman. What mattered to all of his kind--freedom.
His eyes narrowed in disgust. When he didn't immediately answer, she had the audacity to quirk her neat little eyebrows at him, as if he were brain-dead.
"What matters to you most, 7653?" she repeated, her voice brushing like a warm summer's breeze deep into the recesses of his mind.
The use of that number as if it were a name made him want to snort in frustration. "Freedom," he snapped, looking her straight in the eye, willing her to understand.
A smile lit up his face when she retreated back a step. His senses also told him her heart had accelerated. She, too, isn't immune to my voice. For once, that gave him a smug sense of male satisfaction.
"Him," she said, turning her face to a woman standing at her side.
Tulon knew she had to be of importance. She looked regal.
"Choose another," the woman replied, trying to usher the fourth male forward.
He fought the urge to glare at her. He was chosen, and while he wasn't sure for what, he didn't like that she thought him beneath her. Contempt and disdain had filled her voice.
"I will not, Mother. I choose him," said the spitfire with grim determination as her eyes turned to challenge her mother.
Mother! That was her mother who stood next to her, dressed like a matriarch. That would make the spitfire a what? A princess...high priestess...whatever. Tulon knew the game he had been forced to play just had its stakes raised.
What he had been chosen for had to be pretty special. He almost smiled as the mother of the spitfire nodded her acquiescence to her daughter.
When the petite woman kneeled in front of him, he fought the urge to lean down and pick her up. Realizing this must be part of their barbaric ceremony, he stood straighter.
"I take the 7653 to be my mate...your seed to my seed...let life quicken within me."
The words were barely audible as she mumbled them. An electric shock rippled through his body when she lightly kissed each of his toes. He could have stumbled back from that intimacy, but he forced the creature he was to endure. Sadly, he liked it too much.
That's it! He was then hauled away. No questions asked. No answers. Once in the hall, the fair-haired one who had stood next to him sneered at him.
"Lucky bastard. Enjoy the rut of your life," he said, as he was whisked away.
When the other two fair-haired men were taken to a different hall and he was left alone with only one female guard watching him, he thought about running.
But to where? He had no idea where he was. He had been blindfolded for the entire journey to this place. Once here, he had been bathed, his body hennaed and then ushered into the lineup. Breaking his code of silence, he asked the guard, "What was all that about?"
It took her a moment to realize he was asking something of importance. He noticed her pupils dilate in sexual awareness. He mentally cursed at himself. How I hate what my voice does to the women of this place. He wanted to shake sense into her. For once in his life, he wanted a straight answer.
He turned, as a voice behind him spoke, fully aware of who stood there--the mother.
"Pleasure my daughter well. Do your job. Nothing more. Do you hear me?" she stated, not expecting him to answer as she strode past him.
Pleasure her daughter well. It took a moment for that notion to be fully digested by him. So that's what I was chosen for. Bed sport! His nostrils flared at the insult, even as his body hummed its own eager answer. Blast his cock, which now stood at attention, lusting at the vision of ramming the petite woman into submission.