Destiny
Calling
The
Enchantlings
Volume 1
Maureen L.
Bonatch
A Paranormal Romance from
The Wild Rose Press
Available on December 22, 2014
Hope Doesn’t Know If The Man She Can Touch
Is A Dream Come True, Or A Nightmare Just Beginning.
Hope only wants to find out if her
ability to infuse euphoria or despair with her touch makes her the devil's spawn,
or his exterminator. But when the woman who raised her is murdered by something
not human, she loses the only family she knew and discovers one she might wish
she hadn’t.
Drawn back to the hometown she vowed
never to return to, her ability is seen as an asset to everyone but Hope, and
she doesn't know who to trust. Her family wants her to help them overcome an
enemy oppressing the human population, while the man of her dreams is courting
her for the Underworld.
Time is running out, and Hope’s choice
may be made for her, as she discovers she’s a pawn in a bigger game played by a
merciless ruler who doesn't lose.
Excerpt:
I strained to release my
arm from Griffith’s vise-like grip while scanning the surrounding trees, trying
to determine which was less of a threat, the beast of a man holding me or those
who might be waiting for me in the woods.
“You will come inside,
now.” Griffith spoke slowly and deliberately as if I were a small child.
I batted at the hand
Griffith placed on my head. “I’m not a puppy, quit petting me.”
“I will protect you.”
Griffith’s warm breath caressed my ear. “If for no other reason, to find out
what I’m giving up and why she wants you so badly.”
I inhaled his masculine
scent, like musky earth. It washed over my face, and the tension in my jaw
released. I stopped struggling. “Are you the devil?” My tongue was thick and
heavy so the words came out slurred.
“Not even close.” His
words soothed and comforted, like having a weighted blanket cocoon me. Each
movement was an effort. It wasn’t the same as the thing in the woods. This was
more like the feeling after a long massage or bubble bath.
“It’s not safe.”
Griffith wrapped his arms around me, and I rested against his broad chest.
“It’s not safe.” I
nodded. My muscles relaxed and my eyelids grew heavy.
“It’s cold. We’re going
inside.” Griffith kept his arm supporting me as he steered me toward the house.
“We’re going inside.” I
parroted and walked up the steps, leaning heavily on him.
Out of the corner of my
eye, something was cautiously moving at the edge of the woods. Branches snapped
as whatever was observing us crept closer.