Noble Romance Publishing, LLC
Publication date: January 2010
Digital Book format: PDF (Adobe DRM)
You save: $1.01 (20%)
Liwa is a young woman with a mission. She means to end the war that has drained her society of its best and brightest for centuries. When Liwa was seven, the Healer fled the village in fear of her life. She left her six year old son, Temo, in Liwa's care.
Now Temo has come of age and Liwa is determined to keep him from being sent to war. Her efforts incur the wrath of the ruling Elders. Liwa must come to terms with her conflicted feelings for Temo, as the two of them fight their way north in search of the legendary Andrigorn valley and the one person who can help Liwa end the war: Temo's mother.
Rall often accused Temo of hiding behind her skirt. She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from speaking the truth. She was protecting Temo, protecting him from the trouble he would be in if he killed Rall.
As one of the village butchers, Temo excelled at his job. He went at the task with both hands, knives flailing and whistling through the air. Flesh fell away from bone and in no time the task was finished. Liwa'd seen him skin and butcher an entire cow in less than an hour.
But most of the time, she didn't see anything. She couldn't bear to watch, and instead stood outside the barn and waited for him. She always expected him to be drenched with blood when he came out, but he never was. There were probably a few sprinkles of blood on his face and hands, but they became lost among the field of freckles that seemed to multiply daily with the sun.
To Liwa, nothing inspired lust quite so much as blood, and if he had been splattered, she would have found it that much harder to pretend she didn't want him. She was very vulnerable to desire lately, and the young men she used to play with were all married, now. Chloe spent her days tending her fields and her nights tending to Rall's desires, leaving her with no time left for Liwa.
The villagers expected Liwa to wed next spring. She could play with any of the young men who would come of age this year. They were handsome and charming . . . and they were already casting furtive, frightened glances at her. If they only knew she would not choose any of them, not ever.
Last year, Temo had been reasonably tolerant about her dalliances, because he wasn't old enough for her to choose. But he'd come of age, and if she did anything to suggest she might prefer another young man, she'd break his heart. She'd spent too many years putting it back together to let it crumble again.
Tonight, like many others, she was left to own devices, such as they were. She had to take matters into her own gentle, knowing hands. She lay there, touching herself, brushing aside the day's unfulfilled desire.
She ran her hands over her breasts, down the smooth shallow of her stomach. Her fingertips lightly brushed the insides of her thighs, sliding closer each time, tempting and taunting herself with rumors of caresses soon to come.
Laying one hand gently on top of her pussy, she put the other on top of it, and pressed down hard. She slid it back and forth, up and down. Pleasure could never be more perfect than when she was with herself. She knew exactly what to do and when to do it. The physical pleasure could not be matched, but it left her aching for the warmth of a kindred spirit pressed against her trembling body. So, she closed her eyes and dreamt she had someone there with her.
She did all of this knowing he lay in the next room, keen to the scent of her passion, tuned to the sound of her sighs. She did all of this knowing he knew, knowing that he, too was touching himself and thinking about her.