.@GoIndiMarketing #BlogTour: Gift of the Blood God:Drawn by Sydney Whyte #Romance #GuestPost

Please welcome Sydney Whyte to Moonbeams over Atlanta with a guest post and an excerpt that you must be over 18 to read.

The Anatomy of Fae

Fae, faeries, fairies…

So much to choose from, so much lore to explore.  From the Roman household deities – penates, lares and even genii, to the simple Norse and Teutonic traditions of Valkyries, elves and disir to the much more rounded and vaunted Arthurian tales and Celtic legends, fairies abound in every way, shape and form.  Minor deities, long-lived, immortal, human-like but powerful, light elves, dark elves, dwarves, all rendered ‘Fairies’ to some culture or civilisation…  Malignant, benign, monstrous or fair, they populate writings from ancient to modern in abundance, and never, it would appear, do we grow tired of them.

Fae encompasses so many different notions, beliefs and traditions, that for my world and my purpose I dared to strip them bare.

A fantasy, paranormal, erotic fusion encompassing an unknown world, unknown peoples, religion, beliefs, required a mesh of myth and influence that was fresh.  I wanted a paranormal being that was sexy, powerful and lethal.

Book one of the Gift of the Blood God – Drawn, but touches upon these creatures that inhabited the world of Abod le A’nor before the advent of humankind.  They are lost, they are cursed, they are trapped.  But one of them has a plan…

 

Excerpt

(Please be aware, the contents of this excerpt is considered R18)

 

“Open your eyes!” The words slithered beneath her distraction, a breath of wind whispered in her ear, hoarse, harsh with need. “Come back to me!”

“Nay, nay… Ahhh!” The heat pressed closer, hotter, her clit aflame with a surging passion, digging, growing in her lower belly, “Don’t… Ahhh, I… I can’t… Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh!”  She felt herself explode, ripple and she screamed as if in pain, the most tumultuously exquisite pain.

Her eyes opened, finally obedient.  The shroud of darkness and light encapsulated Melan. The roof of the cave so high above her was lost from sight, the earth a forbidding mantle that threatened incarceration, and yet this was what all called the Shining Lair, the temple of the Blue Heartstone, and the dwelling place of Wyrm power; the clash of pure earth essence and air.  A pale patina of blue light filtered into the shadows given off by the large gem that sat proud upon its sconce – the Faeling’s beautiful prison.  It was familiar, as was the brilliant bright white light of a ‘Pillar of Power’ searing the ground stone and burgeoning straight into the void above, blinding and intense to look upon.  It filled the cavern’s centre, and yet even its potency could not force all shadows back.

Melan knew she had been here all along filled with lust and fantasies. Quickly she looked down her body as she lay naked upon the bundle of furs, cushions and silken throws.  Her legs lay open to the mouth that sucked one last jolt of passion from the quiver of her singing clit and she gasped again, her hips uncontrollably undulating to press closer.  The black eyes looked up at her from the shadow of his face, a smile of satisfaction spreading the fullness of his lips, lips so blue she could barely believe the heat they caused as they played with her intimate flesh.

How had it come to this?  How had she even considered it?  The being between her legs was no man.  It was a Shade; the shadow of a Faeling and yet his attention elicited nothing but lust.  His was smoke and illusion but he felt of heat and weight and power as he teased at her sex.  She had not known the danger, had been unable to deny him.

“I would to dip into your honeyed well, my Priestess,” the Shade whispered though his lips did not move, the sound of his voice no more than an insistent caress to her mind.

Melan eased further back into her bedding and opened her legs the wider, quivering at the last touch of his hot tongue to the folds of her pussy as he pushed his now solid length up the contours of her body, brushing what should have been untouchable along the sensitivity of her pale skin.  The undeniable weight of his broad chest pressed to the fall of her swollen breasts and she sighed and waited with impatience as the threat of his shaft pressed to the wet welcome of her opening.  She moved against the tempting heat, her loins afire with anticipation.  “Do it. Do it.”

She could not believe how different it was from the first flush of disgust she had felt at his touch; confused, revolted.  She had come back from her reunion with Falric, her husband, her first love, her heart’s desire – denied her by the Guardian of ‘The People’, by the stipulations of her position – but the forbidden assignation had been at the wondrous Shade’s behest. She could not refuse, did not want to.  Melan had caressed the much-loved, gleaming gem, ready to thank it for its bounteous instruction.  Never had she enjoyed so much a command from the Heartstone.

It was not the first time that she had laid eyes on the shadow creature that could rise from the heart of the blue jewel but it had been the first time Melan realised that it was not as ephemeral as first believed.  At her touch the Shade slid forth and she gasped at its beauty; broad, naked, perfectly formed.  The hair on its head brushed the length of its bulging back to the slim tightness of its waist, but it was male, definitely male and she could not help but stare at the bulk of its loins cushioned beneath the blue-black curls of pubic hair.  Her face had burned hot and she had tried to step back as it came closer.

“Did you as bid, my Priestess? Has my plan gained momentum?” The voice had filled her mind.

Melan had stared into its black eyes as it ventured nearer, so close it – he – would have been able to feel her trembling, suddenly disquieted by his proximity.  She had nodded mutely and gasped as the large hand reached forth to stroke her cheek with a touch of heat, so solid and real she hardly credited her own senses.  The kiss to her lips was as hot and heavy as any she had shared with Falric though the touch was a mere caress, and she pulled instantly back, suddenly wary for her own safety.

“We shall see. We shall see…”

 

Author: Sydney Whyte

Title:  Gift of the Blood God: Drawn

Series Title and Number: Faelings Doom – Book 1

Publisher:  B King

Release Date:  March 2015

Genre:  Erotic Fantasy

Tags:  Mystical world, magic, world building, romance

Heat Level: 5

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 73,000 words

Purchase Links:

iBooks  | B&N | Kobo | Amazon |  Goodreads

 

Book Blurb:

The world of Abod le A’nor stood waiting…

From the near new city of the civilised Oremen, to the wild untamed clans of the warrior nations of the Ancients, to the primitive quiet villages of a long lived and isolated people; their Dreamers dreamed and sensed the streams of time eddying and calling.  The Gift was coming, and all eyes turned to the rugged climes of the southlands.

Two women struggled through the new day, through vast tracts of dark and ominous wilderness.  Shocked and confused in the aftermath of what should have been a near fatal accident, twins Lorrie and Melory found themselves stumbling into a fate nothing in their previously sheltered lives had prepared them for.  Nothing was familiar and even the comfort they found in each other’s company could not keep the fear or panic at bay.

Where were they?

In a world imbued with strange powers and lingering passions, the past machinations of the doomed Faeling will irrevocably change forever the Neilson sisters’ future.

Thus begins the journey of the sisters’ awakening.

Please note: – this series contains swearing, sexual content and adult themes – suitable for persons over the age of 18 years

 

Author Bio

 

Sydney Whyte is a ground breaking new talent to arise in New Zealand erotic literature.  A vivacious reader and passionate creative writer since early childhood, she began writing paranormal and fantasy stories as early as ten years old. As a shy and reserved child, she immersed herself in writing complex, fantastical worlds full of magic, mystery and intrigue as a means of escapism. When she reached her teenage years, thoughts of love and romance entered her life with an obsession known only to the hormonal and young, her writing took a significantly saucier (although highly naive) turn. Her increasingly shy demeanour and strict upbringing allowed her few opportunities to openly explore her youthful sexuality; writing became an important means for shaping her philosophies on love, men and romance. As she set out on her own into the world she never ceased to write, but her life, prose and perspective changed drastically. Widowed at twenty-three, re married by twenty-seven, and a single mother of two before thirty five, her untainted youthful outlook on love, life and sex gave way to the exploration of the interconnectedness between beauty and pain, sensuality and shame, and love and despair, that shapes the unique human experience.

Author Links

Facebook | Sydney Whyte Blog

 

 

 

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