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IMMORTAL LUST by Sierra Dafoe
For years, Raymond du Sable has chased rumors of a woman shrouded in legend, a woman of almost unearthly beauty. Finally, on Crusade, he finds her. She is Cytharea, daughter of Aphrodite, irresistible to mortal man -- and Raymond's key to grasping the throne of France. To transport her there safely, Raymond hires a Templar Knight, Gerard d'Amiers. Sworn to chastity, Gerard has a deep mistrust of women, born of the infidelity of his boyhood love. Yet Cytharea stirs him in a way no woman ever has. And Cytharea herself is battling a deadly imperative -- she must feed from the sexual energy of a man soon, or die. Together Gerard and Cytharea discover a passion so overpowering it shakes the very foundations of Gerard's faith. Upon reaching France, he must either abandon every vow he's ever made -- or lose Cytharea to the abusive ambitions of a madman. |
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EXCERPT
Finally the curtain lifted, and Gerard found himself staring into a pair of eyes as deep and ever-changing as the ocean. Blue, with hints of green in their luminous depths, they held him, catching his breath from his lungs. He could hear his blood roar in his ears like surf and was conscious of a tightness in his chest and groin, as if some irresistible sea tide were tugging at him, pulling his body and his passions toward a distant, unimaginable shore. Holy God, he thought in some faraway corner of his mind. How can any mortal woman be so beautiful? In the next moment, he realized he had no idea if she was beautiful or not. Taking command of himself, he broke away from the steady gaze of those luminous eyes and focused on her other features. High cheekbones. A sweet, oval face. Lips like rose petals, full and soft. Her skin was pale but with a dusky olive tint that complimented her eyes, and the hair that cascaded down over her shoulders was thick and curly and black as a raven's wing. Yes, she was beautiful -- so beautiful it made Gerard's throat ache and his shaft stiffen with a longing he'd not felt for years. He felt rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but stand and stare at the vision before him, desire like a fire in the pit of his belly. Believe me, my lord, there is none other among my knights so well armed against the temptations you foresee. Jacques' words had been meaningless to him this morning -- knowing nothing of the task he had been selected for, he had not bothered to guess what temptations the marshal of the Priory might have been referring to. Now he understood. Standing in the deepening dusk on the first day of the long journey back to France, he understood Jacques' words all the way down to his bones. Oh sweet Savior, how am I to endure months with this woman when I can barely withstand five minutes? Then he noticed the darkening bruise against the perfect velvet of her skin, high on one cheekbone, and an unexpected fury clenched his heart. Noting the direction of his gaze, she lifted her hand, touching the bruise lightly. "Yes," she whispered, although he had asked no question. "He struck me. Is that what you wished to know?" While trying to decide what she wants to be when she grows up, Sierra Dafoe lets her imagination carry her whither it will. Visit her online at sierradafoe.com. |
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