Hey guys! Today Daryk Hunter is in paperback! Below is a brand new excerpt you may not have seen before. Beware, however. This is erotic romance. 🙂 You can find Daryk Hunter at the following outlets:
Barnes and Noble
When Magonian archaeologist Ketera Aldrancos’ father is imprisoned, she’s determined to save him. Before she can do so, her ship is wrecked. Water laps at her, a man’s strong arms surround her. His husky voice soothes her. Then she realizes she’s on a foreign beach in the arms of a dreaded Dragonian. A man who looks nothing like the men she’s known. His closeness, his touch sends waves of need through Ketera’s core and shame runs through her. After all, passions are sinful.
Dane Charger, a Dragonian Daryk One, cradles the woman in his arms. He aches to introduce her to the headiest lovemaking imaginable. But his eyes flame red and a growl vibrates his throat when he realizes he’ll need to protect her from marauding slave traders led by a vicious rogue who just happens to also be his half brother.
Two people whose supercontinents are separated by ocean and two thousand years of prejudice and fear. Two people who may be the secret to saving a race from extinction.
She opened her eyes and her vision sharpened on the gray stone wall across the room. Muted light flickered from a candle burning on a nearby table. Heavy, ornate furniture graced the room. She couldn’t take this intimacy any longer and she pulled away from him, practically falling from the soft bed onto a stone floor. She gasped and stood up too fast, and dizziness rolled in a sickening wave in her head. She reached out and caught a table end. The candle on it wavered and she moved to steady it. Light from the candle flickered, sending dancing golden shadows over the room and across the brutish man on the bed.
He rolled onto his back, his eyes closed. The blanket slipped down and tangled around his waist to expose a broad expanse of strong, naked chest sprinkled with auburn hair. The hair stole a tantalizing trail down a muscular stomach. Other than being so obviously large, his overall aura shimmered with dangerous possibilities. She had rarely seen men without a shirt, and his powerful musculature set off stormy heat inside her. And suddenly she didn’t think she liked being here anymore.
His eyes popped open and he sat up.
She gasped in surprise, and that was when she realized the drawstring pants and long white tunic that flowed around her body didn’t belong to her. In fact, they looked nothing like the clothes she wore or had ever seen before now.
His eyes flashed as he blinked, a grin touching his mouth. “I wondered how much longer you’d sleep. You’ve been unconscious two days.”
Two days. Panic threatened. She couldn’t have been here two days when her father wasted away in that rodent-infested prison. She would find a way to slip past this creature—this loathsome seducer—and escape.
His voice rumbled gently, a husky quality that sent heat through her body. His intense gaze wandered along her body with a brazenness that caused her breath to catch. Her face heated—she might be an innocent, but today she had tasted forbidden passion. The insanity racing around in her mind confirmed that the warnings were right. Sexual pleasure was a sin if it could disconcert and fluster a person this much.
“You’re as beautiful as a sleek cat and as responsive as any woman I’ve had,” he said.
“You have not had me.” Her legs trembled with weakness.
“A mere technicality. Your sweet smell and cream are driving me mad.” His smile held a carnal edge and enough arrogance to make her jaw clench in anger.
She ignored his statement. “Who are you and why am I here?”
“Who are you and why are you here?”
His echo puzzled her and she opened her mouth but refused to say a word. Then she remembered she’d already given him her name in a moment of weakness. Damn. Damn the heavens.
He stretched, his body a long length of male animal. Masculinity poured off this mysterious man, and despite the shakiness threatening her, she couldn’t deny her fascination with him. She’d be damned to the four levels of Magon’s hell if she let this strange man take advantage of her any more than he already had. She stood as tall as she could and schooled her face into a frown.
She backed up, her gaze sliding across the room. She shivered with cold, but impressions bombarded her in one huge, painful barrage of memory.
He groaned and then stood in one sweep, the blanket falling away from his body. He wore loose trousers of gauzy blue, but they did nothing to hide his masculinity. He owned powerful legs and between his thighs she noted a thick bulge. She could see how tall he really was—he would tower over her. He advanced toward her, each step a predatory glide.
“Sprite, what’s wrong? Are you afraid?”
“No. Why should I be afraid?”
“Because I am between that door and your escape. Any maiden would be afraid. You are within a man’s abode. A man who isn’t a family member or your husband. There is much danger for women who are left unguarded with a man. What I did to you a short time ago is evidence of that.”
His words shook her. She’d never heard of such a thing on Magonia. Ever. Yes, women were sheltered, but not from danger. On Magonia, the other supercontinent on Croan, only men were allowed to experience the full range of feelings and process them. Only men could enjoy the pleasures of the flesh within the confines of marriage.
All of it was dragon dung of course.
She was afraid and she hated it. Yet at the time he made her feel extraordinary safe. How could she feel both ways simultaneously?
“Tell me who you really are, Daryk One. Or is that a lie?” she asked to distract herself from the unanswerable question of her jumbled emotions. “Perhaps you are no more than an animal herder.”
A smile slid over his mouth, wicked and filled with a heat she understood but had never seen in a man’s eyes for her. “I have herded a dragon or two, but that is not my main purpose. I am a protector of the innocent and the helpless, sworn to uphold our laws.”
“You have a strange accent I’ve never heard before.”
“We have many accents here. An icy, clipped tone in the glacier region of Imekland, a mild and timid cadence for those who survive the Ithycan desert, a hot and slow accent for those who live within these castle walls and outside in the Tarrian jungles.” He smiled again. “A smooth and regular voice for Daryk Ones, who are home to no place at all.”
It was then the truth sailed out to meet her, and she didn’t want to know it or feel the wave of stunned realization. She hadn’t dreamed that she’d crashed on the shores of Dragonia. She didn’t want to believe her ship had drifted that close to Dragonia, and the huge storm had driven her to this forbidden place.
“You don’t know where you are, do you?” he asked.
“Dragonia.” The word escaped as a rasping whisper in her sore throat.
“Yes. You will come to no harm at my hands. If you step outside this room, however, outside this castle, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Hearing him confirm it tightened her throat and wadded her stomach into a knot. She launched into the only defense she knew. “You must think I’m an imbecile, sir, to believe a murderer.”
His gaze turned cool, and the danger she witnessed in his eyes returned. “I’ve murdered no one. Only killed to protect.”