Excerpt & Giveaway: Rise of the Lost Prince by London Saint James
Rise
of the Lost Prince
LOST
BOYS BOOK 1
London
Saint James
M/F
Erotic Romance, Fairy Tale,
Paranormal,
Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Gothic
They
fight to protect those who would never welcome them into the human
world...
Petúr
always knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something
more. Something not human. Yet, he never expected to find out the
truth of their origins, nor fall for a human woman whose father was
set to destroy Neverland.
Ever
since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the
purest gold, although she never really believed such a man existed
until she met the hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys.
With
a prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil
darklings out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and
claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time
nemesis, Grapple the Dark?
Buy
Links
Excerpt
“Ma’am?”
Her long lashes
fluttered, causing spiky shadows to stipple the tops of her cheeks.
“I forgot my laptop. I need to get it from my office,” she said.
“That’s where I was going when I got mugged.”
“Here
you go,” said Dash. He’d gathered up the woman’s things and
tucked them back into her purse. “I don’t think he got anything.”
He handed the tan bag over to her. “I think we interrupted the
mugger. Petúr tried to catch him, but he got away.”
“Thank
you,” she said, taking her scuffed-up purse.
“It’s
a good thing we were walking past this alley,” said Vibe. “We
heard you scream and—”
“Yes,”
she said in a robotic voice, nodding. “You scared off the mugger.”
She was looking at Petúr in that unseeing, vacant way, the pupils in
her eyes large and pulsing.
He
inclined his head. “Here,” he said. “Let me help you up.” He
gave her his hand. She took hold, and he couldn’t stop himself from
noticing the petal softness of her skin. After she was steady on her
feet, he thought to introduce himself. No need to be uncivilized.
“I’m Petúr.” He pointed to his right. “That’s Vibe.”
Vibe gave her a two finger salute. Petúr tilted his head to his
left. “And that’s Dash.”
“I’m
Wyndi,” she said, her voice becoming less animated. “Wyndi
Darlingheart.”
“Of
Darlingheart Incorporated?” Petúr asked.
She
brushed a few strands of hair from her face. “In a roundabout way.”
What
did that mean?
“Roundabout?”
Dash asked the question he himself was dying to know.
She
glanced at Dash and kept her gaze trained on him for a long moment. A
too long moment. Something hot and possessive twisted in Petúr’s
gut. He wanted to reach out and turn her pointed little chin back in
his direction, away from the other warrior.
“Cromwell
Darlingheart is my father,” she said.
That
piece of information got the muscle in Petúr’s jaw to working and
quickly stamped out the unusual possessiveness he’d been
experiencing.
“Father?”
he asked, needing the confirmation one more time.
She
nodded and looked up. Her sky-blue gaze went to his mouth then
flitted up to his eyes, locking with him. She gasped.
“What?”
The
woman welded her beautiful eyes shut and muttered, “Nothing.”
Could
she be afraid of him? No. He didn’t think it was fear he saw
swimming in the depths of those liquid blue pools. More like
realization of him, mixed with feminine lust.
His
golden gaze meandered over her, catching on her cleavage a moment,
before moving on to the shape of her hips. Curvaceous.
He cleared his throat. Her long lashes fluttered open. Unable to help
himself, he was staring at her spectacular face once again. She
worked her bottom lip over with her teeth.
She
was an oddly captivating, deliciously sweet smelling, eye sparkling
female with a mouth he wanted to taste. Taste?
Really?
He mulled that over for a moment. Yes. He wanted... No. What he was
experiencing was more than mere want. He needed to taste her. All
of her,
he realized taken aback.
He’d
been with numerous women before in a quick, rough coupling just to
satisfy his animalistic desires, however he was having thoughts he’d
never had. Animalistic, yes, but….
He
studied her, the arch of her brows, the way strands of her hair
framed her face. How delicate she was compared to him. Wyndi
Darlinghart.
He allowed her name—the daughter of the rich scum-sucking asshole
who’d purchased Neverland, intent on clearing the land, as well as
him and the lost boys out of their home—to simmer.
Her
sweet cotton candy scent assaulted his nose once more. His dick
stirred beneath the leather of his D-ring jeans. Would she melt in
his mouth like the candy would? His brow furrowed. What was wrong
with him? He took in another deep breath, allowing her bouquet to
linger. Maybe the ache would go away if he just tasted those full
lips. No. He shook his head in an attempt to shake away the urge.
Seconds
ticked by. Damn it. He couldn’t shake off what he was feeling. His
eyes narrowed. Of all the women in the world, why did it have to be
this woman he seriously wanted to thoroughly enjoy in a slow,
lingering manner?
Because
fate is a cruel bitch. That’s why.
“She’s a
Darlingheart,”
he heard Vibe say.
No.
Not say, but project inside his head.
“Right,”
he mumbled, but when Wyndi’s eyelids fluttered open, and she locked
gazes with him once more, all the hardened steel he’d erected
around himself, as well his common sense, fell away.
Crazy
though it might well be, Petúr found himself, for the first time in
his long life, wishing for more.
More time with her. He wanted to talk, and touch, and kiss. Shit. He
wanted to kiss her so bad he physically hurt.
He
broke the eye contact this time, and turned away. Who was he kidding?
He might want more than fast, anonymous, no strings attached sex, but
he wasn’t a choirboy either. For what he had in mind, there would
be strings. Maybe even ropes.
“We’ll
walk you to your office,” Petúr said, unwilling to let her out of
his sight, as he tried to tell himself the over-protectiveness was
necessary, even though darklings never attacked the same person
twice.
“Um…”
Wyndi muttered.
He
watched her out of the corner of his eye. “That’s where you said
you were headed, right?”
“Yes.”
She straightened her shoulders and took the lead.
Petúr
homed in on the sway of those hips as she walked in front of him. Oh
yeah.
He might want more. More than he’d ever given or received from any
other woman, yet he also wanted to strip this little human, go to his
knees, and map her feminine folds with his mouth, listening to her
call out his name in a breathy entreaty as he tasted her pleasure
upon his tongue.
Watch Trailer
About
the Author
London
Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home”
until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the
beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband
and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.
As
an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is
living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that
big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running
around in her head would pay off someday.
You
can also e-mail London with any questions or comments at
London@londonsaintjames.com.
She loves to hear from her readers.
Would
you like to know more? Join her mailing list for her monthly
newsletter http://eepurl.com/6P2on.
Or, join her book group on Facebook, Slip Between the Pages with
London https://www.facebook.com/groups/SlipBetweenthePageswithLondon/
Giveaway a Rafflecopter giveaway
Comments
Post a Comment