Looking back over the past few months, I came to realize I’d been pretty much spinning my wheels, especially on the current WIP. Lots of going, but getting nowhere fast until the epiphany hit me on my Friday morning walk. I’ve let too much negative into my thoughts for one thing and I need to go back to what I know on creating a book for the other.
I need to remember ‘thoughts become things’ and I’m not a total pantser. I have to have a basic chapter outline as my roadmap to start with, but I can detour off that road when something better comes along. So, I spent the weekend focusing on positives and creating my roadmap on the current book. Not it’s time to finish it up today and then kick the production in gear.
In the meantime, here’s an excerpt from Beyond Magic to gear you up for the book that I’m diving into…the second in the Magical Love Series…Emerging Magic.
“Beyond Magic is charming, magical and fun; it kept me smiling all the way through to the most satisfying end! Can’t wait to see where the series goes next and with whom…” Marie Treanor, author of Blood on Silk
By: Lizzie T. Leaf
Publisher: Passion in Print Press
“Sire, it appears we have a female lying at the bottom of the front steps.”
“What?” Ian whirled his chair around from the computer screen and stared at his butler. Was the elf up to one of his tricks? Proper to the point of boring most days, occasionally a side of Helmond surfaced in the form of a jokester on some unsuspecting soul. Ian narrowed his eyes and studied the little man. “Is this one of your attempts to liven things up around here?”
Helmond’s body went rigid and his voice assumed a hoity tone. “I assure you, Sire, this is not meant to be humorous. Come see for yourself.” He turned on his heel as smartly as any parade soldier and headed for the door.
The old guy’s poker face had given nothing away. In fact, if anything he seemed insulted by Ian’s insinuation that the announcement was an attempt to pull his leg. Why did things happen when he had at long last hit a creative spurt? The words flowed easily today and he resented the interruptions. This better not be a joke or he’d have the little man’s hide.
Helmond already held the door open as Ian approached. A blast of wind and rain slapped him in the face while he looked over the butler’s shoulder. There did appear to be a body at the bottom of the steps. How strange.
He stepped around the old elf and left him to hold the door as he ran down the steps to the listless form. Rain soaked clothes plastered to her body and left no doubt it was a woman…a very well developed woman.
Ian knelt beside her, lifted a wrist and placed a finger on her pulse point. Light, but steady. That was a good sign. He closed his eyes and held his hands over her body, allowing his senses to determine the extent of any damage. A slight concussion where she hit her head appeared to be the only real area of concern. No surprise, she was on the verge of hyperthermia. He had no idea how long she’d lay here.
He placed his hands over the knot on her head and directed a flow of energy in the form of light to heal the spot. The swelling receded and his hands heated while the crack in her skull mended. She’d have a headache when she came around, but that would be the worst of the damage.
Lifting the limp female in his arms, he carried her up the steps where Helmond held the door open. He’d find out the how and why, and who, when she came to. Right now, the important things were to get her out of the wet clothes then get her warm. A wave of sudden passion swept through him when he held the woman’s body against his.
What in bloody hell? That’s never happened to me before.
He looked down at the still face and another surge of heat ripped through him. The woman in his arms did nothing to entice him. She was unconscious and he had to be barmy…totally mad. Neither thought prevented an erection equal to any he had during his hormone ridden adolescent years. Ian focused his mind on climbing the steps, one step at a time, in an attempt to quell his lust.
“Turn down the covers on the bed in the room next to mine and bring me some wrapped hot stones,” he instructed his butler. He’d get her undressed and under the covers. The stones at her feet would eliminate the chill.
Stripped down to her matching bra and panties, Ian discovered a female more voluptuous than he originally thought. He could understand why artists loved to paint a woman with curves instead of angles. The bit of wet lace she probably considered underwear resisted his attempt to remove it. Finally, he managed to get it down her legs and over her feet, then turned his focus to the lacy bra. Thankfully, the hook allowed its easy removal and her lush breasts to spill free.
Ian stood and admired the nude body stretched against the white sheets. The patch of hair between her thighs was the same deep auburn as on her head. He should be ashamed for blatantly staring, but he made no effort to pull up the covers until he heard the approach of footsteps. Instead, he watched the rise and fall of her full breasts, while resisting the urge to cup one in his hand to see if they were as soft as they looked.
The passion that had subsided now returned anew; his cock so hard, it hurt. Granted it had been awhile since he’d had a woman, but he wasn’t a teenager with raging hormones any longer. By the gods, it appeared his paternal genes were no longer dormant.
His grandfather couldn’t keep his pants up and his grandmother couldn’t keep her dress down. The throb of his erection confirmed he’d inherited more from his father’s family than he wanted to admit. Just what he didn’t need; out of control sexual urges.
“Sire, the hot stones you requested.”
Helmond carried a basket filled with the towel covered rocks, which Ian took from the little man. Grateful for the interruption, Ian pulled the covers loose from the bottom of the bed and placed the warmth around his patient’s feet.
“Have cook prepare a hot broth for our guest, Helmond. I’m sure when she awakens she will still feel chilled.”
“Certainly, Sire. And what shall I do about the vehicle a short distance from the entrance to our driveway?”
Ian shot a surprised look in the butler’s direction. “By the gods, what on earth are you rambling about now?”
The corners of Helmond’s mouth twitched upward for a brief second. “One of the woodcutters discovered a small coach. He says there are more females in it.”
“Bloody hell.” If Helmond wasn’t playing tricks, then maybe the Fates were the jokesters. A little joke at his expense wasn’t beneath that august group. Obviously, they thought his life too simple and decided he needed more excitement.
Or were the Big Os involved in this mess? Whatever, a bus full of female mortals would create enough excitement to last him an eternity.
He glanced at the still woman. She likely belonged to the coach people and they might soon worry. “Arrange for them to be brought to the castle and make them feel welcome.” If immortals could get headaches, he’d have a migraine about now. Speaking of headaches, he’d better have some aspirin brought in also. When she awakened, she needed to have enough discomfort to not be suspicious of the healing he’d maneuvered.
“Yes, Sire. Shall I assign them rooms?”
Ian looked out the window. The rain now came down in sheets. If this woman left her companions to venture out in the driving wet, then something must be wrong with the vehicle. If that were the case, it would be at least tomorrow before the coach could be repaired. His magic didn’t extend to mechanical problems. No, the repairs would be done the old fashion way; by a mechanic.
“Yes. Prepare the guest rooms and inform the kitchen of the additional meals needed. Also, bring the bottle of aspirin I keep in the bathroom Mr. Brian uses when he sleeps over.”
A moan from the female drew Ian’s attention back to the bed. Now partially dried, the red hair created a wavy halo around her porcelain face. He walked over to the edge of the bed and sat. She moaned again and her eyes lids fluttered, once, twice, then slowly opened.
Ian stared into eyes the exact shade of his favorite sherry-aged whisky and at that moment, he knew who the message on the wind was meant for. The throbbing erection that tented his kilt dispelled any doubts.
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