World-renowned neurosurgeon, jet fighter pilot,
secret member of American royalty, seducer of legions of beautiful,
outrageously sexy angels and demons and vampires and werewolves and the
occasional pirate, Lisa Fox has done it all…in her own mind. In reality, she
can generally be found at her desk with a cup of coffee close at hand. Or maybe
a martini. It really depends on the day.
Feedback, comments, opinions, words of wisdom,
chocolate cake and the addresses of super hot men are always appreciated and
encouraged. Please feel free to contact Lisa any time.
Email:
lisa@lisafoxromance.com
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www.lisafoxromance.com
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Hi Lisa , great to see you again, you've brought your great new release,
Hi Everyone!
I am thrilled to announce the release of my erotic,
fantasy romance, KNIGHTLYDESIRE!
To celebrate, I am giving away a copy to one lucky
commenter on my blog. Head over to LISA FOX ROMANCE
(http://lisafoxromance.wordpress.com/2013/03/22/knightly-desire-release-blitz-giveaway/)
between now and Sunday, March 24, 2013 to enter!
Knightly Desire by Lisa Fox
Blurb:A routine mission turns disastrous when Knight Captain Brant and his men encounter a renegade mage. Injured and near death, Brant is brought to a nearby sanctuary of the god Ison, where the chaste sisters heal all those in need.
He is given into the care of Gabrielle, a talented healer. She is young, vivacious, bold—and a mage. She is everything wrong for him, and yet their desire and need can’t be denied.
Brant lives for his duty. Gabrielle belongs to a god. The lust-filled bond between them is powerful, but forbidden. No matter the consequences, their erotic bond cannot be ignored.
An Excerpt
From: KNIGHTLY DESIRE
“You’re awake,” a female voice said and Brant
jumped. He turned his head toward the sound and found a young woman roughly
twenty years his junior sitting on a stool on the opposite side of the room.
His armor, sword and shield sat on a table beside her. “The Mother feared you
would never rise.”
She
was a spark of brilliant light in the otherwise barren room and Brant hungrily
drank her in, everything in him yearning to absorb all of her vibrant energy.
He took in her round face, smooth with the innocence of her youth and marveled
at the striking contrast with her wide, sapphire eyes. Those eyes held ancient
wisdom in their depths and seemed to know secrets far beyond her years. That
look, that shadow, added maturity and dimension to her youthful appeal, making
her a devastating woman. He tried to tear his eyes away, he knew his examination
was improper, but he couldn’t help himself. It had been too long since he had
gazed upon anything beautiful.
She
ran her hand over her short, spiky red-brown hair as she studied him. Her eyes
trailed over him as she waited for him to respond, her gaze both curious and
sensual. Her lips parted as she lingered over his bare chest, and when she
dragged her tongue over her plump bottom lip, his cock stirred. Visions of
capturing her warm, wet mouth assaulted him, and he could almost feel how soft
her lips would be against his, how sweet she would taste. Blistering arousal
ignited in his chest, awakening all of the nerve endings in his body, and he
was suddenly, acutely aware that he was naked beneath the thin white sheet. Her
gaze traveled farther down, leaving a path of fire in its wake, and when she
paused at his waist, he almost gave in to the fierce, animal desire.
With
a silent curse, he bit down on his tongue, hoping to temper his thundering
pulse. It was completely inappropriate for him to respond to her in this
manner. Especially since he had no idea who she was or what circumstances had
brought him to her. He cleared his throat and tried to shake off the lust
racing through his bloodstream. “The Mother?” he asked, and winced as fresh
pain shot through him. “Where am I?”
“The
Britnol Sanctuary of Ison,” she said, and he blinked, finally taking notice of
her robes, the red and white adornments of the sacred Sisters of Ison. Brant
let out a disgusted breath. Oh, but he was a fool indeed. Even without the cowl
of her station—which was odd, he’d never seen a sister with her head uncovered
before—he still should have recognized what she was.
“Where
is everyone?” he asked. The other sanctuaries he had been to were bustling
centers of activity, the sisters treating multiple patients for a variety of
injuries and illnesses. He seemed to be in a private room rather than the main
hall of the temple, separated from the other patients, and disquiet settled in
his chest. Could it have something to do with the mage? He had been touched by
magic, was he now…tainted? He quickly pushed the thought aside. He was whole,
weak, but still himself. He glanced over at his newfound companion. She did not
seem overly concerned about being in his presence. He didn’t think she would be
so calm if there was any reason for worry.
She
shrugged one shoulder. “Who knows?”
Before
he could stop himself, his gaze drifted back down to her mouth and unbidden
desire resurfaced in his heart. There was probably a reasonable explanation for
his segregation, but their isolation tested the limits of propriety. This woman
may be a sister, however youthful her appearance, she was obviously old enough
to have taken her vows, but he was an outsider. “Surely they wouldn’t allow a
sister to remain alone in the presence of a strange man?”
“Why
not?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. The gesture was all at once
innocent and impishly wicked. “They say you are a man of honor.” She touched
the white stallion emblazoned upon his shield. “They say that this means it is
so.” She met his eyes. “Are they wrong?”
Brant’s
heart swelled with pride as he looked at the stallion on his shield. It stood
for everything he believed in, everything he fought for, held dear and would
die to uphold. Honor, justice, duty. He met her gaze. “No, they are not wrong.”
Her
smile brightened her entire face and her eyes sparkled. “Then why do you ask?”
He
laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Her whole aura demanded it. She may be innocent,
but she was also a tad bit too flirtatious for a sister. When the sisters took
their vows, they gave themselves to Ison alone. He wasn’t much of a follower,
but he did know that Ison was a jealous, possessive god. Brant decided he would
do well to remember that—for both their sakes. He forced his face back into
seriousness and tried to assume as commanding a tone as possible considering he
was lying in a sickbed. “Bring me the Mother. I wish to depart.”
Her
smile widened and his blood heated. He had seen beautiful women before, he had
mingled with and even romanced some of the refined ladies of the royal court,
but none had ever stirred in him the longing that she inspired. It was
thrilling. “Oh, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she said, her tone
playfully admonishing. “You were quite wounded when your men brought you here
and we vowed in His name to heal you. The Mother is not going to let you go
until she feels that is done.”
That
was not the answer he wanted and he bristled at the confinement. He needed to
get back to his men. That mage had been gathering an army. He needed to make
sure that the threat had been eliminated, that everyone was safe. He was almost
certain that he had succeeded, but there was always a chance that the man still
lived, still posed an immediate and terrible danger. “I’m fine.”
She
laughed, a joyful sound that filled the entire room. “Are you? Well then, stand
up.”
He
couldn’t believe his ears. Was she actually challenging him? He was so shocked,
he almost laughed. “What?”
“Come
on,” she said, humor and mischievousness and deep knowing in her blue eyes.
“Stand up. Prove how well you are.” She rose to her feet and extended her hand
to him. “If you can take even two steps, I’ll get her for you.”
She
was teasing him. He shook his head in disbelief. And he was enjoying it! “Why
do I have to prove anything to you?”
She
smiled. “Because, Sir Knight, I am your keeper until you have recovered.”
“You?”
he said, and this time he did laugh. “You’re barely old enough to be your own
keeper.”
“I
am older than I look and we both know that wisdom is not reliant upon age.” She
raised an eyebrow and her smile transformed into a smirk. “And you have not
gotten out of that bed.”
He
told himself that he was not being baited. He was going to get up, prove to her
how fit he was and end this ridiculous game. And he was fine. Mostly. Fine or
not, he had to get back to his men and resume his command. He wrapped the sheet
around his waist and rose from the bed. His legs folded beneath him.
She
was by his side in an instant, holding him up. She hugged him tightly and the
soft, floral scent of her filled his head. He breathed deeply, taking in her
delectable fragrance. Her body moved against him, lithe and firm under the
heavy, shapeless robes, and the fire that had been simmering in his blood
flared back to life. He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer.
Her smooth, white skin flushed a rosy pink and he could feel her breath catch.
His eyes fastened on her mouth and hunger descended upon him in a wave of lust.
She lifted her chin to him, her pink lips slightly parted and he leaned into
her, accepting the unspoken invitation. The warm flutter of her breath tickled
his lips and long buried desires swept through. He wanted to drink in her heat,
her beauty, her feminineness, things that were forever missing from his life.
His cock awoke with deep, throbbing need and his eyes drifted shut as
everything in him yearned for one tiny taste of heaven.
The
door opened and Brant started at the sound. The Grand Mother entered the room,
frowning mightily as she took in the scene and the girl froze in his arms. The
Mother’s steely-gray eyes fixed on the sister and he felt her twitch.
“Gabrielle, attend,” the Mother commanded, and his beautiful keeper deposited
him on the bed and went to the Mother’s side. “I believe it is your turn to
stock the warehouse?” she asked, and Gabrielle flicked him a last look before
nodding and leaving.
When
the door shut behind her, the Mother turned her attention on him. “Welcome to
the Britnol Sanctuary of Ison, Sir Brant,” she said. “I trust you are finding
it comfortable here?”
Her
voice was sharp with disapproval and it only deepened Brant’s regret for his
actions. He had come into this house of a god and tried to take what didn’t
belong to him, what he had no right to claim. “Mother,” he said, inclining his
head to her. A formal bow would have been better, but it was the best he could
manage. He did not think he could stand up again without help. “Thank you for taking
me into your house of healing. I am in your debt.”
The
Mother inclined her head in return. “We do our sacred duty here,” she said, and
then met his eyes.
Brant
heard the warning loud and clear. A warning he was ashamed to have to receive.
He had tarnished his own honor when he tried to take advantage of the young
sister. It was not a mistake he would make again, no matter how much his desire
for her enflamed his blood. She was not his for the taking.
Copyright ©
LISA FOX, 2013
All Rights
Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
