April 8th, 2012 | by Anya Howard |
I apologize for not being able to post in awhile, but have been more busy over the last few months than I’d foreseen. But I do have news to share today and this of the release of my latest novel. The title is The Story of Odette: the Swanmaiden’s Unveiling. Here is some info and I’ll provide an excerpt, too.
It began as a short story in the anthology Sexy Beast VI from Kensington Aphrodisia and continues with The Story of Odette: the Swanmaiden’s Unveiling.
As the swanmaiden’s daughter, Odette was orphaned at a young age when the forces of Charles Martel laid siege to her village and tribe. She was left helpless to the whims of a vengeful half-sister, Vanda. Some years later, however, Odette’s fortune changed when Vanda’s sympathetic husband escorted her into the refuge of fabled Athla. It is a realm sacred to the gods, where only a few mortals are allowed entrance — and the power-hungry Vanda is not among them.
Odette now finds the acceptance and love she’s always craved, and upon entering adulthood she is also educated in Athla’s sacred disciplines of passion and surrender. Unknown to Odette, however, Vanda has pledged her aid to the vampire priests of Loki, who want the swanmaiden’s daughter to sacrifice to their deity. To this dark end Vanda recruits a handsome soldier named Cu’lugh to enter Athla’s borders and bring Odette back. Cu’lugh sets off to Athla, ignorant of Vanda’s true motives and the dire fate intended for his quarry.
But what neither the vampires nor Vanda know is that Loki seeks more than a mere sacrifice. This father of lies and chaos awaits release from his ancient prison and to exact revenge on the gods who confined him there. Killing Odette is only the first step in Loki’s malevolent agenda — to destroy hope, happiness and love forever in the world of mankind.
EXCERPT
She heard someone enter the house and soon she heard Holbarki speaking with another man. She figured it must be one of his light elf friends he was expecting. They could come and go freely in Athla and their artists had a penchant for Athlan trinkets, which, obviously, Holbarki could supply easily enough.
Two silhouettes approached from the front of the room.
“My finest stirrups are on a table in the back,” she heard Holbarki say, “in front of the tapestries.”
She watched as the merchant stepped out of sight and the other figure advanced. It was a man, so focused in his purpose he seemed unaware of everything else. An Outer Realm soldier, she guessed by his worn boots and scuffed scale mail and the much-used scabbard at his back. He was sweaty and unshaven, his mustache thick and dark as his short hair. He was stalwart but not overly tall, and his neck was thick but smoothly attractive under the stubbled chin. Evidently weary from travel he showed none of the eagerness most visitors to Athla came in with, nor the satisfaction of having prevailed against the hardships of the Wasteland to enter the fabled borders. No, this Outer Realmer’s demeanor was like none she’d ever beheld before. She could not read the look but she was sure of it, so glaring was it behind his weariness.
As if this were but a stop on some journey he’d rather have over, Odette thought.
The warrior’s almond-shaped eyes glittered like dark coals as he examined the stirrups displayed; his face was grim, preoccupied. Odette breathed shallowly, hoping he would find whatever it was he needed and go away. The elf girl’s attentions had been one thing; she did not want to endure a man’s touch without the protection of Lord Eryan or one of the stewards she knew.
For several minutes he browsed through the collection, his tanned brow creased; and even in her frightened impatience Odette could not take her eyes from him. He was different from the men of Athla with the animal-like energy that radiated from his very being. Not even the Athlan soldiers exuded such an aura of raw power . . . and it stirred something very deep in her sex that bade her to plead for but one glance from his beautiful eyes.
She chastised herself silently. Certainly, she should be glad this Outer Realm warrior had other concerns. Surely, he was no more than a barbarian who had stumbled out of the Wastelands and been allowed to enter the borders simply because of his personal tolerance, not because he’d quested to find Athla. Otherwise, she told herself, he would be overjoyed to be in the realm and probably already have his own serving girl on a chain by his side.
But her sex was wet and throbbing. She closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing as she waited for him to leave.
Holbarki’s voice piped close by. “Find what you need, good sir?” Odette heard the man mumble something indistinct and the merchant went on. “You have come to the right place. Unlike many merchants in this realm I understand the practical needs of the Midgardians. You need something, I will do my utmost to make it available hastily. You do not need to dally about while I craft the thing from raw materials or imbue it with magical incantations or artistic fancies.”
“No?” The soldier sounded bored, and Odette opened her eyes just enough to peek out and saw the dissatisfaction on his face.
“My own mother is from the Outer Realm,” Holbarki explained. “She told me time and again the more commonsense habits of her people as compared to the Athlan folk. With their lax lifestyles, they have no conception of necessity. The blacksmiths, for example, save you be one of the street sentries or a member of the army or royal guard, would put you on a waiting list.”
The soldier’s mouth turned up in a smile. “Well, perhaps your king pays highly to promote such an enthusiasm to join his army.”
Holbarki laughed overmuch, and by the hardening of the soldier’s smile Odette knew he saw clear through the merchant’s ingratiating polish.
“I am sorry, but I do not find . . . what I need. Where may I find the closest ironworks?”
Holbarki darkened, but his gloss did not fade. “There is Reir and his son, just down the avenue, the red stone house.” Seeing the soldier nod he added, “I see by the fashion of your mail you favor Celtic work. I have just a few days ago received a cargo of horse blankets from friends in Brittany you may be interested in.”
The soldier’s brows rose. “Celt? From which tribe?”
“A tribe friendly with the Frisians, who give them aid against Boniface’s crusading monks.”
The soldier’s face grew thoughtful again. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced about, and in that moment he discovered Odette. At once his somberness fled. A heated, almost dazed smile softened his mouth and he gazed at her with an intensity that made her tremble. She lowered her eyes instantly, and as she endured the blush that scorched her entire face she prayed he would look away again.
Instead, he walked over to the trestle and raised his fingertips to the ends of her hair over her left shoulder. Her heart beat so rapidly that her ears rang.
“I was shocked—pleasantly, that is—when I entered your realm and found the women running about unencumbered by wasteful apparel,” he said to Holbarki, “and when the guide who led me in explained that this is custom, well, I thought for a few moments I had passed into the realm of the fey.”
Odette felt stifled with heat as his dark eyes canvassed her flesh. And though she sought to turn her face away, those same penetrating eyes drained her will.
“She is quite real, as are all our lovelies,” said Holbarki. “However, this little flower has been displayed for viewing pleasure alone. She belongs to Mistress Helrose, one of our most esteemed priestesses, and has not yet been Unveiled.”
The soldier threw him a questioning glance. “Unveiled?”
Excerpt from The Story of Odette: the Swanmaiden’s Unveiling
©2012 by Anya Howard
This novel is available in an Amazon Kindle edition. For more information about the book and the prelude story in Sexy Beast VI visit http://anyahoward.com/
Have a great weekend!
~Anya Howard
