Dreaming of the gods
The Vikings believed that only warriors
could enter the halls of Valhalla and that every day was a good day to
die. To appease their god, Odin – the
Lord of War, Death and Knowledge, warriors battled, and warriors died. Only upon death could these brave men and
women enter the lands of their fathers, led by the hand of a Valkyrie.
Times were harsh, land and food, sparse,
and so they looked to the gods for signs.
Read their fate in the Runes and followed the words of their seers. The stones foretold their destiny – good or
ill, and when the gods spoke, the warriors listened. If their seer’s sleeping dreams foretold of the
life tree, Yggdrasil’s, birth or death, then the land followed its
telling. Laguz meant chaos. Dagaz meant hope. Magic and the weight of prosperity – survival
and life, lay heavily upon a man’s heart.
It is in this depth of uncertain
possibilities that gods, kings and men worth following their dreams, were made.
Dreamwalker
K.A. M’Lady
Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal, Erotica
Publisher: Mojocastle Press
Date of Publication: 3/8/15
ISBN: 9781601802057
Number of pages: 72
Word Count: 18138
Cover Artist: Vanessa Hawthorne
Book Description:
In a time when legends ruled ~
Deep in the heart of the Kelljek Mountains the Wolf People of Elnorn follow the ways of Odin – living and dying by the sword.
An untried warrior king must find truth in the darkness ~
Gararic – warrior and ruler wages war against the dark arts of the Black Witch, Dianaria and finds he must battle for more than just his people’s freedom. Will he find the truth he seeks on the sweet taste of her lips or will treachery destroy him and his people?
To be set free, one only needs to dream ~
A Dreamwalker by birth, Dianaria knows her fate and her future lies with the warrior king. Can love conquer the shadows of betrayal and hate?
Mojocastle Press Amazon BN ARe Kobo
Excerpt:
Lightning and
thunder danced through the sky in a symmetrical glow, roaring through the
cliffs. Gararic hurried up narrow winding paths of loose shale. It would take
him a morning’s time in good weather to get up the path to the Perch. With the
storm riding the edge of the sky, he needed to be there sooner and by the looks
of the storm clouds, their darkening, heavy weight would not hold for long.
As lightning
continued to arc across the sky, illuminating his way in intervals, each step
grew more precarious as the small stones beneath his feet crumbled and the
incline grew steeper. Halfway up the rocky path, the heavens opened up,
unleashing the storm in all its fury, pelting Gararic with sleet and rain and
soaking through his garments within moments.
Thor’s Hammer!
He quickened his pace, all the while keeping the opening to the cave in sight.
In a flash of light bright enough to warm the heavens, a shadow appeared in the
opening of the cave.
He paused to
watch the light dance around the mountain, giving him an excellent view of the
cave’s opening. Staring in disbelief, he cursed Dianaria freely. “Witch! I
swear by Odin’s blood, if you have brought this storm to torment me, I will
kill you with my bare hands.” His roar echoed off the mountain.
Is that not your
wish?
Startled,
Gararic turned on the trail, certain he would find her on the path beside him.
But the path he climbed was empty. No one followed up the winding rocky
pathway. No one could be seen in the valley below.
He reached for
the hilt of his sword, certain the devil’s army was on his trail. When he
looked back to the opening of the cave, it too was empty. He stood silent on
the path; the icy rain sluiced down upon him, staring at the empty opening of
the cave in disbelief.
“What do you
know of what I wish, Witch?”
The wind
silently whispered her seductive reply. Come and tell me, Gararic, Leader of
the Chenia River Clan. Leader of the Wolf People of Elnorn. There are many
things to know this night.
Chills of desire
flowed over Gararic; her soft words danced over his body. “I’ll not barter with
a dead woman!” He tightened his grip on his sword, angered at his body’s
response to her.
Are you so sure?
Your father was not so quick to turn me away. Her voice was sultry as a moonlit
night.
Gararic cursed
under his breath. An image of her in all her naked beauty, alone in the creek
with winter surrounding her, instantly filled his mind. Cursing himself for a
fool, he tried to let his anger rule him and turned his thoughts to his
father’s death. He tried to let his rage turn to molten lava and spread through
his veins, knowing it was the one thing that would keep her from affecting him.
She had killed
his father. She sought to kill his people. Yet even now, she wished to barter
with him for his soul. If he wished to be the victor of this battle, he could
not let his baser needs affect him. She would use her womanly wiles against him
if she could. And that he could not allow if he wished to live.
Amazed at her
audacity, he vowed he would defeat her. He would see who was more cunning; the
Witch, or the warrior. Aye, he would play her game. But it was a game that he
was certain she would never win.
Bounding up the
path, his anger fueling his every step, Gararic hastily made his way up the
remaining length of the mountain through the snow, ice, and rain. By the time
he finally reached the entrance, there was no sign of Dianaria, the cave
appearing as dark as his mood.
“Too afraid to
face me, I see?” He wiped the rain from his face and wrung it from the length
of his sable hair.
The back of the
cave burst into a brilliant red flame. Gararic jumped back, drawing his sword
before him. The fire died down to a single flame. He was able to see the shadow
of a woman reflected on the wall of the cave. Next to the fire stood the Witch,
in all her dark glory.
At first he was
unsure if she was real or another image, this time from a waking dream. His
eyes narrowed, taking in the voluptuous figure before him. With her back to
him, besides her lush curves, he could see the rich fall of her waist-length
black hair.
She wore no
cloak, and through the length and thickness of her hair he could see the
glorious stretch of her legs, encased in boots to her knees. He recalled the
visions from his dreams, and wondered absently if she ever wore clothes. Her
feminine laughter startled him from his reverie.
“Do you intend
to stand in the cold all night, warrior?” Her voice was soft and sweet as a
gently flowing brook.
About the Author:
K.A. M’Lady lives in the ‘burbs of Chicago with her husband, her three children, and her beagle, Chevy. She’s gone to school to be a business assistant, a criminal investigator, and an insurance agent, but she’s more at home lost in the pages of mythology, myth, and fiction, in the worlds of possibility, with all the dark creatures that the night can hold. And she’s happily dragging her husband right along with her — though he questions her sanity at times.
You can find more of her mayhem on her website — www.kamlady.net. Or feel free to drop her a line — mladyfair12@yahoo.com. Sometimes, she does come out of the Darkness to answer her e-mail.
1 comment:
Wenona - thank you for being such a wonderful hostess. I hope that your readers enjoy the myth and magic that the rich culture of Viking lore is filled with, as much as I do. Dreamwalker is rich with such legends. Readers - don't forget to enter to win your copy today!
Always my best ~ K.
K.A. M'Lady
Fantasy Romance Kissed With Dark Sensuality
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