Blurb
Daryl Devoré pens another hot read – the medieval romance -Branwyn’s Love.
The tale of a young woman sold as a courtesan in training. Branwyn
arrives in a new land to begin daily lessons in the bewildering art of bedding
a man.
The noblewoman chosen to be Prince Malacke’s bride rejects him by
bedding his hated rival. Malacke turns his anger towards increasing the power
and wealth of Black Dorn castle. And he succeeds until his attention is
captured by the face of the woman who will be his queen.
Note: This book contains elements of domination, submission, and
fetishes. If these concepts disturb you, please do not purchase or read this
book. Branwyn’s Love was formerly known as Black Dorn and published by New
Dawning.
Excerpt – G rated
“Stand.” He held out his
hand. “We are alone.”
“I do not understand,
Gon-Dra.” She gripped his hand and let him assist her.
“Call me Malacke. Use my
name. Not my birthright.” He busied himself with his horse, loosening the reins
and leading the animal to the river. While it drank, he opened a sack and
pulled out a wineskin. He removed his knife, cut off a chunk of bread and
cheese, then handed them to Branwyn. She accepted it then settled under a
willow tree near the creek’s edge.
He sat beside her and ate
his meal. Finished with her lunch, she sipped her wine in silence, admiring the
sound of the creek and the birds. With quick glances, she studied Malacke. His
eyes were the depth of some of the blue flowers in the garden. A faint scar
marred his left cheek. His face was shorn of beard, but for the slight stubble
of a new day’s growth. His features were pleasing— very pleasing— to her.
“Tell me where you come
from? What is your land—your people—like?”
Why did his deep voice make
her heart beat faster?
“My land is like Black Dorn
but flat and not as beautiful. I have not seen so many rolling hills. Our
languages are similar, but we each have words the other does not.”
He lay back and closed his
eyes. “Such as?”
“Gon. I believe it to mean
king—one who rules all. Gon-Dra has no match in our language. The son of a king
is a prince, and the oldest is the heir to the throne.”
He opened his eyes. “Are all
the women from your land as beautiful as you?”
Branwyn felt a flush run
from her belly to her scalp. “My six cousins were not as…” She looked at the
creek. Her voice softened. “Which is why I was sent to be trained.”
Malacke sat up. He moved
closer— too close. “Standing beside you, even the most beautiful of cousins
would be less so. Your green eyes are like the newly born spring—alive and full
of hope. Your lips… there is a flower, a rose I believe, in the garden the same
colour. If your lips taste as wondrous as the smell of that flower… may I kiss
those lips?”
“You are the gon-dra. You
take—”
A frown crossed his
forehead. “I do not ask as gon-dra. I ask as Malacke. I wish to be granted the
kiss.”
“I am sorry if I have
offended you.” She placed her fingers on his forehead and smoothed his creased
brow. “A kiss from you would—”
He did not let her finish
her sentence. He reached behind her neck and pulled her face to his. His lips
parted. She felt his breath, then nothing.
“Have you been kissed
before?”
She lowered her eyes. “When
I was being… trained, he…”
“Being instructed and being
kissed are as different as day is from night. One is about tragor and the other
is passion, lust and possibly love.”
She glanced up at the word
love.
He pressed his lips on hers
and grasped her so close her breasts compressed against his chest. She released
him with a gasp. Her gaze did not leave his.
“More?” he whispered.
She pulled his face to her
and planted her mouth on his. He opened his lips. She did the same.
Minutes swam by in a
blurred state of locked lips. Heat rose within Branwyn. She leaned away.
Holding her hand to her chest, Branwyn gasped for air. “This is… I should not
be doing this. You are not—”
“Did you like it?”
She nodded.
“Would you like more?”
“Yes.” It was a whisper.
“But it is wrong.”
He
kissed her cheek, her neck, her throat, then looked into her eyes. “A thing
feels best when it is wrong.”
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