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IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR A LITERARY MASTERPIECE, THIS MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
If you’re thinking, “There’s no way someone could write a fantasy romance book without a fantasy plot,” you’re wrong. I can, and I did.
The garish brown fabric mocked Amelia as she stared at the mirror. It had a hideous floral pattern with mixtures of red, pink, purple, and yellow. If she ever met Ora, she would choke her with it.
“We will move back. I will follow you anywhere, little mate, even to hell if that’s where you wish to go.”
“I don’t need a line to know what’s considered good or bad, but if I did, there isn’t a line I wouldn’t cross for you.” He lowered himself and brushed his lips against hers. “I will write your name on my chest with the blood of any man who tries to covet what is meant to be ours. Innocent or not.”
After a long pause, Rennick spoke, his voice carrying fond notes of nostalgia.
“Stop threatening to kill people,” she whisper-yelled, calming slightly at his touch. “You can’t murder someone for not liking me. You would likely have no kingdom left.” He straightened and shrugged. “It would be easier to manage.”
“I can walk,” she protested for the hundredth time. He leaned over and pecked the frown marring her pretty face. “You fainted. I might never let you walk again.”
“I am where I have always been, love: at your feet, waiting for you to claim me as your own.”
