Today the author in the Spotlight is Tali Spencer. She's dropped by to talk about her book from Dreamspinner, The Prince of Winds.
Title: The Prince of Winds
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Blurb:
Rimmon may be an eagle warrior, but he’s never known war,
and he’s never known love—until his kingdom’s army is destroyed by Ekari, the
demon of winds, and he is captured by Melkor, one of the Iron Horde that has
been killing off the world's gods. Those gods have cursed Melkor and his
brothers to be conquerors and never to be loved, but Melkor, hoping to overcome
his fate, carries Rimmon off to his island. There, he heals Rimmon’s wounds and
teaches him about sexual pleasure, earning the young warrior’s trust and
fanning the flames of an attraction both men yearn to embrace. But the curses
of vengeful gods are difficult to break, especially when Rimmon discovers
Melkor is the demon who destroyed his home.
Excerpt:
In the several minutes it took Melkor and Bodhan to reach
the outcropping, the eagle flew out once more. By the time it returned, they
had established a vantage point from which they could survey the shadowed
recess the bird frequented. Closer scrutiny revealed the half-hidden but
recognizable shape of a man’s torso and head.
With a snap of wings, the eagle returned again, landing upon
one of the boulders. It dipped its head toward the man, placing the limp,
dripping thing in its beak upon the face. They watched in amazement as a hand
rose to grasp the wet cloth, which they now saw it to be, and squeezed it so a
stream of drops fell.
“The creature’s bringing him water!” Bodhan whispered. He
stared, fascinated, at the scene.
“An eagle warrior, perhaps injured.” Melkor made the logical
leap. He had never heard of a raptor caring for a human, but some of the
advance scouts had told tales of an uncanny bond between an Akeled warrior and
his bird. To his friend he said, “The fishing boats just south of the camp—”
“Yes. I remember.” As ever, Bodhan grasped his direction.
“Go back, bring some men and any nets you can find.”
“Only if you promise not to attempt something foolish. Those
birds are killers.”
“I know that. I won’t engage them. Just come back quickly.”
He watched Bodhan until his friend had made a clean break
toward the river. Only then did his fingers relax about the stone he’d found.
Throwing a stone at an eagle was not the soundest of plans, but he had only
that and a dagger as weapons. Of course, he also had the wind. He held his gift
upon his tongue, tucked against the edge of his teeth.
The eagle launched again, abruptly, this time with nothing
in its beak. With powerful beats of its wings, it swiftly cleared the river,
headed toward the wild flats where no soldiers roamed.
It’s gone to hunt, Melkor realized. Surely it
would be gone long enough for him to get a better look. Staying low, he crept
through the grasses to the boulders concealing the man. Mindful of the eagle
and that the man he approached would be armed, he closed his fingers about the
hilt of his dagger and stopped every few steps to look toward the sky.
Moving around a boulder baked hot by the sun, he looked into
a hollow that afforded enough shade for a man. He saw a pale foot sandaled in
sturdy brown leather, attached to a bare-skinned, scraped, and swollen leg.
From ankle to knee, the flesh showed an ugly purple, the bone beneath it
distorted. Broken, which explained why this Akel had not fled to a more
promising location. Making sure to keep more than an arm’s length from his quarry,
he stepped forward to see more.
The eagle warrior was young and covered with blood. Even
filthy and battered, he was beautiful. Soft waves of short red-gold hair,
weighted by dust, clung to creamy skin shadowed by bruises and days-old
stubble. That amazing coloring only enhanced the way chestnut eyelashes fanned
upon a bloodstained cheek favored by a straight nose and pale lips so perfectly
formed they begged to be kissed. Melkor stood motionless in pure admiration,
appreciating why his cock swelled with interest. He had a longstanding weakness
for exotic beauties. Even half-dead ones, apparently. Slowly, he lowered
himself to crouching. The youth still clasped the wet cloth in his left hand,
holding tightly to what his eagle had brought. Tucked against his arm was a
gauntlet of thick black leather with a wide cuff of red snakeskin stamped with
a gold medallion, from which dangled a gilded, red leather tassel.
Suddenly, the young warrior’s hand snaked forth. A dagger
flashed in his fist. Melkor, having anticipated the attack, caught his hand by
the wrist and stared, utterly arrested, into eyes of glorious deep violet-blue
laced with shots of gold. The boy even had beautiful brows, shaped like the
wings of his eagle.
“You are mine,” he murmured, his cock instantly erect.
His captive’s breathing quickened, hard with fear.
“I will not hurt you,” Melkor assured him. He pried away the
dagger and tossed it a short distance into the rocks as the Akel strove against
him, wounded but strong. He was glad to hear voices and the sounds of disturbed
stones below, his men arriving at a run.
The youth’s perfect lips parted over white, even teeth.
“Ayet!” the young man hissed. Triumph gleamed in narrowed eyes.
A feral shriek split Melkor’s eardrums. He ducked as a
furious ball of red feathers and extended golden talons bowled him over. Sharp
agony raked his upraised arm and shoulder, tearing through the fabric of his
robe, giving birth to fountains of wet heat. Blood flowed freely down his arm
to bathe his ribs.
“Throw it!” Bodhan’s cry accompanied a fluttering whoosh and
another scream from the eagle. The weight abruptly left Melkor’s body, followed
by shouts from his men. Looking beneath his arms, held crossed over his head
for protection, he saw three soldiers wrestling the netted, thrashing, and
screaming bird.
Beside him, the young warrior yelled loudly and lurched
toward something on the ground. One of Melkor’s men raised his sword.
“No!” Melkor cried. Sa’uffuuu! A wind leapt
from the outcropping, catching the soldier’s garments and spinning him around.
Diving at the Akel warrior, Melkor grabbed him about the waist and rolled him
over, even in battle savoring the arching of that hard young body under his. Another
soldier, coming to his aid, pinned the Akel’s legs.
A scream of raw pain broke from the captive’s throat just
before he collapsed, fainting on the sun-hot stone.
Bio:
Tali Spencer is fascinated by swords, mythology and
everything ancient and magical. Thanks to a restless father, she grew up as a
bit of a nomad and lived in more than a dozen U.S. states. Her vagabond youth lives on in a tendency to
travel whenever she can. She’s not
afraid of planes, horses, trains, or camels.
Her preference is for ships, however, and few things clear her mind like
a week or two at sea. On land, her
favorite destinations are castles, museums and archeological sites. When not writing, she reads, experiments with
food or takes long walks with her loving, if slightly neurotic, poodle.
Twitter: @tali_spencer
Email: palaistea@gmail.com
