Book: The Selkie's Tale
Author: Nara Malone
Genre: Virtual Reality/Romance
#TheSelkiesTaleRDB
Synopsis
Seven
tears cast upon the water summon the selkie, summon seal across the ocean,
summon man from beast—liquid keys to break the curse. Freed one night every
seven years, Ronin is doomed to repeat that cycle into eternity. Unless he can
find a woman powerful enough to resist a selkie’s irresistible pheromones and
sex magick.
Maille
believes she lost reality between Maine and New Mexico. Between where she is
now and where she should be. She believes in facts, not magick. But facts can’t
explain how she wound up naked on a beach with the sexiest man she’s ever laid
eyes on. Or how she knows in her bones that losing herself in the passion Ronin
offers is a path to disaster.
It’s
going to be a long, hot, wet night. Caught between sex magick and a sexy
selkie, disaster is inevitable for Maille. To break the enchantment she has to
rely on the oldest magick of all—the power of love-drenched hearts.
Buy The Book
Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/mYgpBp
AMAZON Universal
Link: http://mybook.to/selkiestale
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KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-selkie-s-tale
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1278455571
Author Bio
Whether it's a shapeshifter romance exploring the primal
power of the wild feminine, or BDSM romance where love digs into a character's
shadows, Nara believes romance should open the door and push lovers into a new
dimension: sexually, emotionally, and sometimes physically.
Nara Malone is an award winning novelist and poet. As a
freelance journalist and writer, her feature profiles on women entrepreneurs
and her romantic short stories have been published in newspapers, magazines,
and digital publications.
Nara lives on a small farm in the shadow of the Blue Ridge
Mountains. When she's not writing, she loves to run, hike, bike, and kayak.
Every story she tells incorporates her love of animals, nature, and adventure.
An Excerpt From: THE SELKIE’S TALE
Copyright ©
NARA MALONE, 2013
Tears.
Ronin was so tuned to the presence of
a woman’s tears that he could swear he heard them fall. While hearing a tear
hit the surf on the other side of the ocean was a stretch, there could be no
mistaking the scent or the taste. Each woman’s tears were unique. These tasted
of secrets and sorrow. Ronin held each on his tongue, decoding subtle clues and
catching one after another.
Seven tears cast upon the water summon
the selkie. Liquid key that broke the curse for one night. Sunset to dawn.
Ronin had twelve hours exactly on this
night of Mabon, the autumnal equinox.
Obsidian black with foaming mane and
tail, his liquid steed bucked and galloped across the Atlantic in the time it
took a cloud to glide across the face of the rising moon. At the edge of Wolf
Harbor, his ride dissolved into thrashing breakers along the jetty.
Seven tears summoned the beast across
the ocean, carried the selkie to his intended on enchanted waters. Seven tears
summoned man from beast.
The scent and taste of her—cool and
crisp as new snow—washed through him, renewing his withered spirit. A vision of
her tear-streaked face, framed in a wild mane of dark locks, was like a sun
rising in his heart. Her need gave him power. Her hunger drove him up on the
rocky barrier.
Metamorphosis clamped him in its jaws.
Transforming Ronin form seal to man. He writhed and moaned like some great sea
slug, belly down in a kelp pile. Bones shattered and reformed. Skin spilt at
the seams until at last he crawled from the prison of his pelt. All indignities
and agonies made bearable by the promise of holding her.
Growing taller with each breath, Ronin
scrambled to his feet. Nothing equaled the sheer exhilaration and power of
standing erect.
Ronin reached to the sky, and turning
to face each of the four sacred directions, he named the elements. “Earth,
wind, fire, water, I bow to your power. I am nothing on my own. Embrace the
frailties and powers of this human form. Lend me your strength as I do the
Goddess’s will.”
The wind carried a wolf song from
shore. Tipping his head back, Ronin turned toward the moon, his voice rising to
unite in song with his shape-shifting cousins. None but a being who walked the
earth as both human and beast would recognize the subtle tonal differences and
encrypted messages that signified the human souls beneath those canid hides.
The pack leader’s solo answer welcomed Ronin ashore and promised no
interference with his mission.
Satisfied, Ronin shook out his long
hair and turned to face the wind. Heavy locks whipped back from his face and
fanned out across his shoulders. A wave broke, colliding with the boulder he
perched on. The resonant boom vibrated in his bones, cold spray making him
shiver.
Maybe it was the remnants of the storm
spinning up turbulence. Maybe it was the moodiness of autumn setting in, or
maybe because it had been longer than usual since he’d last tumbled in clean
sheets with a willing female, but tonight felt different.
Heat emanated from the water. Power
dissipated by the goings-on at Shadowling, the magickal manor perched on the
cliffs. The priestesses and their servants would be celebrating the Mabon, but
the woman on the beach was not of them. Her tears didn’t carry the telltale
electric zap of power. If she had power, it was dormant yet. Her summons had
been born of innocent despair.
As such she was tonight’s innocent
recipient of his eternal penance.
Shrugging off the mood, Ronin stashed
his pelt under a cairn of loose rocks and dove back into the water. He had
eleven hours and fifty minutes left. He wasn’t going to waste one second more
than he had to. Still, he had to proceed cautiously.
She’d summoned him without knowing he
existed, or the workings of his enchantment. Most women didn’t embrace strange
men who walked naked from the surf.
Pity, that.
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