Author Name: LM Somerton
Book Name: Elemental Love
Release
Date: March 29, 2016
Blurb:
An untrained warlock is a dangerous man to love.
On his twenty-first birthday, Evrain Brookes
discovers he is an elemental warlock. The spell suppressing his talent lifts
and he has to get used to a whole new existence. The protection that kept him
safe during his childhood is gone, his skills are wild and uncontrolled and
there are those that seek to use him for their own gain.
Evrain’s grandmother is a witch, his godfather
another warlock. Between them they do their best to keep Evrain on the right
path. He learns that in order to gain control of his formidable powers, he will
need to ‘channel’ through a life partner, a process that happens only with
consent and through love. But how will he ever find a man prepared to put up
with a Dominant warlock for a boyfriend?
Dominic Castine has no idea that Evrain’s
grandmother sees him as a prospective partner for Evrain. He tends her garden
and she teaches him about herbs—a trade-off they both enjoy. He is drawn to
Evrain’s charismatic presence but doesn’t understand why he wants to drop to
his knees and submit to him.
When Agatha is murdered, Evrain and Dominic are
thrown together as she manipulates them from beyond the grave. Dominic becomes
the pawn in a terrifying game between warlocks whose powers he barely
comprehends.
In the end, lives will depend on his courage, his
willingness to grant Evrain control and the power of love.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of kidnap
and a reference to attempted sexual assault.
Pages or Words:59,472 words
Categories: BDSM, Contemporary, Gay Fiction, M/M
Romance, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy
Excerpt:
Twenty-one years
ago…
“Closed
doors, I hate closed doors. Why don’t I have the power to see through them?
That, at least, would be a useful ability.” Three-hundred-year-old floorboards
creaked as Gregory Thanet paced the galleried landing of Wenlock House. He
walked up and down past three doors, each fashioned from heavy oak and
furnished with black iron hinges and handles. Two stood ajar, revealing hints
of unoccupied bedrooms, but the third was firmly closed, a solid barrier to
unwanted intrusion and the cause of Gregory’s current frustration.
“For goodness’
sake, Gregory, you’re wearing out the carpet. Be still.” Gregory’s companion
leaned against the gallery rail and gave him an exasperated look.
Gregory paused
his march briefly, shot a glare at the woman but then resumed his pacing with a
grunt. “Leave me be, woman, I’ll be still when we know that everything is as it
should be.”
“Nature moves at
her own pace, you know that. There’s no changing it—nor should we. What will be
will be.”
“Stop trying to
sound like some wise and ancient soothsayer, Agatha. You’re not helping and it
doesn’t suit you. The kid is a week late already—you’d think he would be keen
to greet the world by now. When he’s grown I’ll remember that he kept me up
half the night. I’m sure I’ll get plenty of opportunities for revenge when he’s
older.” Gregory stopped and folded his arms across his chest.
“I might not be
able to see the future, Gregory Thanet, but even a complete idiot could have
predicted that my grandson would arrive today.”
Gregory examined
his companion. Agatha looked tired. Her skin was quite smooth, marred only by a
few laughter lines around her hazel eyes, eyes that still sparkled with warmth
and intelligence. Her silver hair was swept smoothly back and fastened with a
comb, intricately fashioned from beaten copper. She remained an attractive
woman, who must have possessed great beauty in her youth, but she looked paler
than usual and she rested her weight against the banister rather than standing
in her usual ramrod-straight stance.
Gregory
experienced a rare pang of guilt that he might be adding to his friend’s
worries. “All Hallows’ Eve. There’s a lot of power in the air right now.”
Agatha cocked
her head to one side and closed her eyes as if listening to sounds that only
she could hear. “My grandson will be with us soon and there is little that you
or I can do to change the course of his destiny.” For a moment, a worried frown
creased her forehead. “It is not certain that he will inherit the gift.”
Gregory sighed.
“In this, you deceive yourself, Agatha. The calling has skipped a generation.
History dictates that the next born will be unusually powerful and that power
will be magnified even further in a male child.”
“There has been
no warlock in my family line for over five hundred years, only witches. Why are
you so convinced that it will change now? We know of only three others living,
Gregory. You, Symeon Malus and Constantine De Vries. It would be a chance in a
billion.”
Gregory
scratched the tip of his long nose. “I should have bought a lottery ticket
then. All the portents point to it, the date alone… It is time. Time the
triangle became a square.”
“I’m not sure
Symeon Malus will ever be part of that square,” Agatha said. “I don’t see him
as the cornerstone of anything with value or integrity.”
“True, and if
the child is born with the power, you and I will need to ensure that Symeon’s
gaze remains elsewhere.” Gregory shivered. “I swear to the goddess, this
country is the dampest place on earth. It’s all right for you, Agatha, you live
in the second dampest place on the planet. You’re used to groping through fog.
I want to get back to Florida. I need to—before I develop trench foot.”
“Pah. What you
really want is to get back to Coryn. You’re a ship without an anchor when the
two of you are apart. He could have come to see the child too, you know.”
Agatha grabbed a stray hair and pushed it back into a restraining grip.
“Coryn hates
airplanes, you know that. I would never ask him to fly across the pond unless
it was a life or death situation.”
“If it were, you
wouldn’t have to ask him.”
“He reckons that
if men were designed to fly through the air, then human cannonball would be a
much more popular career choice.”
Agatha snorted.
“I think his phobia is a myth. He just uses it as an excuse to get a few days’
break from your—” She whistled and twiddled her fingers in the air.
Gregory rolled
his eyes. “Twiddling your fingers that way will get you turned into an
aardvark. It takes practice to bend your digits into shapes imbued with power.
After thirty-two years together, Coryn is more than capable of dealing with
my—” He whistled. “As you so delicately put it.”
Agatha snorted.
“Men with magic! Whoever the hell thought that would be a good idea was
seriously damaged.” She shook her head slowly.
Gregory grinned
and waggled a silver eyebrow.
The mewling cry
of a newborn sounded from behind the closed bedroom door, and Agatha allowed
her lips to curve into a smile.
“Well, it seems
the waiting is over. I have a grandchild—and, from the sound of that bellowing,
he’s a fine, healthy boy.”
“About damned
time.” Gregory grouched. He still smiled right along with Agatha.
Agatha crossed
the landing and knocked softly on the door, which soon swung open to admit her.
Gregory followed her inside, pushing down his excitement.
The bedroom was
bathed in the cool light of a new dawn. The soft green of the walls seemed to
shimmer and the wooden floor was burnished with gold. Gregory looked around in
wonder, then dragged his gaze back to the bed.
“Lyssa,
James—congratulations, my dears!” Agatha clapped her hands together in delight
as she walked over to the bed.
Gregory hung
back a little, giving her the privilege of first viewing.
Agatha’s
daughter, Lyssa, sat up in bed propped against a mound of pillows. She was
pale, her eyes shadowed in the purple of exhaustion, but still she glowed with
radiant happiness. A small bundle wrapped in a pale blue blanket rested in her
arms. Her husband, James, sat nervously on the edge of the mattress, looking
utterly shell-shocked but delighted as the midwife fussed around them.
Lyssa held the
baby out to her mother with a smile. “His name is Evrain. Evrain James Brookes.
Hold him, Mum, isn’t he beautiful?”
Gregory held his
breath as Agatha reached for the small bundle and cradled the child in her
arms. She pushed the blanket back from the baby’s head, and a mop of thick
black hair was revealed, sticking out in all directions.
“He is
absolutely gorgeous, darling. Didn’t you both do well!” Agatha stroked the
child’s hair.
Gregory moved in
closer. Tiny fists punched at the air, so Gregory offered the boy his own hand.
Immediately, the baby grabbed hold, wrapping his fingers around Gregory’s
offering with surprising strength. Gregory grinned at Agatha in delight, then
looked back to the baby. His eyes were the dark blue of every newborn but, as
Gregory focused his senses on the child, he could see that they would become
dark green. Just a shade deeper than his own.
Cooing softly,
Agatha muttered a lilting incantation and rocked the baby gently. To Lyssa and
James, the song probably sounded like a lullaby, but Gregory knew a spell when
he heard one. Tiny eyelids closed and the baby slept. Gregory’s finger was
released. After a few more minutes of cuddling, Agatha reluctantly returned the
baby to his parents.
Buy
the book:
Meet
the author:
L M lives in a small village
in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She
started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly
addicted.
She loves the English weather,
especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm
company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of
relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and
not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.
Where to find the author:
Goodreads
Link: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6623749.L_M_Somerton
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Cover
Artist:Emmy Ellis
Tour Dates &Stops: March 29, 2016
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