Excerpt

Kindred: The Shadows of Night is not yet up on the Samhain site, so here's an excerpt to provide you with some reading material while you wait (and I just know you're waiting with breathless anticipation *g*):

At the new voice, deep and resonant, Katara looked toward the door. She discovered she was able to turn her head, although the rest of her body was still unable to move. Standing near the door was an exceptionally handsome man. His face looked as if it had been carved out of oak, sculpted with high cheekbones, a wide jaw, and a narrow, straight nose. His jawline was smooth, since Antler men, like all Kindred, did not grow facial hair in human form. His eyes were a rich, dark brown, and long, tawny hair fell loose around his face, falling past his broad shoulders. He wore a plain white tunic and breeches, and knee-high tan boots.

Engrossed as she was in his rather remarkable features, she noticed the small coronet of interwoven golden antlers on his head last.

This, then, was Lord Hart.

She narrowed her eyes and spoke harshly. “I have you to thank for my dishonor, I presume.”

“I’m delighted you’re so appreciative,” he responded with a wry glint in his eyes.

“Why should I be appreciative? You should have left me to die.”

“There are many in this keep that agree with you.” He walked toward her, each measured stride a display of masculine grace and untamed dignity. His dark eyes met hers, compelling and irresistible, holding her gaze so that she was unable to look away. “Fortunately for you, I found you, rather than my father or younger brother. Either of them would have left you to bleed out your life in the forest.”

She managed to look away from the dark depths of his eyes, reminding herself that regardless of his physical beauty, he was less than a man. The vivid sexual imagery that filled her head at the sight of him was wrong, perhaps even perverse. He was not the sort of creature a member of the Claw Kindred could consider wedding, or even taking to bed for sport. The very thought was revolting.

At least, it should be revolting. But somehow, she thought, stealing another glance at his perfect face, she wasn’t revolted. Not at all.

He stopped next to her and looked down. She was surprised to see how tall he was. She had always thought of the Antler Kindred as small, slender, and fragile, but he was the tallest man she’d ever seen, and one of the most strongly muscled. He looked as powerful as any man she knew, and every bit as imposing.

“So,” he said, effortlessly capturing her gaze again. He had the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. “You believe you would have preferred to die alone in the forest.”

She swallowed. The truth was, she wasn’t ready to die. She had only seen twenty-two summers, and if she were to be honest with herself, the idea of dying so young, dying before she’d had the opportunity to wed and bear cubs, terrified her. But she refused to let him see the truth he’d hit on.

“It is the way of my people,” she responded.

“Has it ever occurred to you that the ways of your people are foolish?”