Bear With Me
(The Blood Realm Series, #)by Jennifer Blackstream
Blurb:
Betrayal. Redemption. True love.
A beautiful bard looking for her voice
After witnessing her mother’s murder left her blind, Leta had to put away her sword and her dreams of becoming a bard. Now she is resigned to a calm life where the best she can hope for is a good marriage that will take the burden of her care from her father’s shoulders. When her father claims the gods have sent a man to be not just her husband, but perhaps her savior, Leta has to take a leap of faith…and hope she falls in love.
A handsome prince trapped in the body of a bear
Torben is a bear shifter struggling to pass a test laid on him by his power-hungry stepmother. Bound into his beast form during the day, able to be human only at night when the darkness hides him, he must find a wife. She can know him only as a bear and a bodiless voice in the night. For one year, she must let him keep his secrets, trust him as a wife should trust her husband. But what woman will climb into bed with a bear and trust it is a man waiting for her?
Even a blind woman can see when something is worth fighting for…
Available to
Excerpt
A hand settled on her fingers. Heavy, and a
little rough, it engulfed her entire hand. She swallowed hard, took in a slow
breath, and raised her teacup with a shaking hand, trying not to spill it in
her haste to take a sip. It smelled like the tea her aunt had concocted for
her, and if the gods were kind, it would have the same effect. She just needed
her body to calm down, to stop shaking, and blushing, and everything else. Then
she could think. Then she could be logical.
“How
are you feeling?” Torben’s voice was gentle, his baritone soothing in its
increasing familiarity. He gently lifted her hand from his shoulder and cradled
it in his.
The warm liquid flowed down her throat, and a
tingling rush of magic spread through her body, working into her muscles,
seeking out tension and melting it away. She took another large sip, swallowed
before taking a deep breath. Her hands stilled and the burning in her cheeks
ebbed, leaving her clearheaded, calmer. “Better.” She allowed herself
a moment to gather her thoughts, then turned her head in the direction her
aunt’s mentor had spoken from. “Mother Strongoak?”
“I’m
right here, child.”
“Could
you hold my tea?”
“Of
course.”
She couldn’t tell for certain, but Leta
thought she heard a smile in the witch’s voice. As Leta had asked, she took the
teacup, freeing Leta’s other hand. Torben was close enough that his body heat
pressed against her like a warm summer day, and she had no problem discerning
his direction. “May I touch your face?”
A flicker of tension passed through
him—surprise, perhaps. Then he took her other hand and put both of them on
either side of his face. It was much higher than she’d
expected, and the muscles in her arms pulled as she stretched to keep contact.
“Sorry,”
he mumbled.
He shifted beneath her hands, slouching so
she could reach him more easily. His head was large, combining with everything
else to paint the picture of a very big man. The tea in her belly held her in a
protective bubble, letting her mind chew over that information without her body’s
panicked input. She ran her thumbs over his cheekbones, appreciating his strong
bone structure. His face was rough with the beginnings of a beard, and she
smiled a little as it tickled her palms.
Her smile seemed to inspire one of his own,
and the muscles of his cheeks flexed beneath her hands. She feathered a finger
over velvety-soft lips, then slid her hands over his jaw, up the back of his
head.
“Your
hair is short.”
“Does
that surprise you?”
“It
does.” She furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure why. I suppose I just expected you
to be more…”
“Shaggy?”
he suggested dryly.
She cleared her throat. “Er,
yes. I suppose.”
She toyed with the short strands of his hair
a bit, then slid her hands back down the sides of his face. His neck was thick,
and her hands barely made it halfway around. She’d just opened her mouth to
comment on that when her hands fell to his shoulders. She froze. Seconds ticked
by as a piece of information surfaced in her mind, conveniently forgotten until
just now. The bare skin she’d touched. She suddenly knew with absolute clarity
he was not wearing much, if any, clothing. Emotions battered against the wall
of tea protecting her from physical reactions.
“Leta?
Are you all right?”
“That
wasn’t your hip I touched,” she croaked. “That was your shoulder, wasn’t it?”
A tiny laugh exploded into the air, followed
by a snort from Mother Strongoak. Leta thought she heard Torben growl, but the
sound stopped before she could be sure.
“Torben?”
It took him a moment to respond, as if he
were glaring at the room’s other occupants and was reluctant
to stop. “Yes?”
“Exactly
how…tall are you?”
There was silence then, thick with
expectation. Her hands still rested where they’d frozen on his shoulders,
and his muscles tightened beneath her fingertips.
“A
little over seven feet,” he said finally.
There was hesitation in his voice, a sliver
of doubt. Leta pressed her lips together and raised her hands to cradle his
face, forcing him to look at her.
“How
much is ‘a little over seven feet?’”
His jaw clenched, then relaxed. “Eight
foot two.”
It was a tribute to the tea that her heart
barely skipped a beat. “Eight foot two? As in…eight feet
and two inches?”
“Give
or take.”
“Give
or take what?” She slowly lowered her hands into her lap and leaned back on the
couch. Part of her burned to ask him why he was shirtless, probably pantless,
but she couldn’t quite bring herself to make that a part of the conversation.
“Are
you all right?”
Something in his voice pulled at her
heartstrings. More hesitation, a little shade of fear. He’s
waiting for you to be afraid of him.
The thought caught her by surprise, and she
sat up straighter. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“I
told you,” Mother Strongoak muttered.
Torben made a chuffing sound in his chest
that might have been irritation, but she couldn’t be sure. She clenched her
hands into fists.
“I
know very well what I must seem like to you,” she said calmly. “Feeling about
as I walk, shuffling along. Having panic attacks for no apparent reason.
Leaping into marriage with a perfect stranger—a perfect non-human stranger.” A
glimmer of her old flame burned to life inside her, and she jutted her chin
out.
“This
is not who I am. Before my mother died, I was going to be a bard. I was going
to travel everywhere—alone. I trained for years with different weapons, learned
how to survive in the wilderness if I had to. I was very independent.”
“Indeed,”
Mother Strongoak agreed. “I did so enjoy seeing you perform competitively as
well. Always worth it for a chance that some sore loser would get into a snit,
and then lure you into one of those delightful duels.”
Leta waited for Torben to comment on the “duels,”
ask if she’d really engaged in combat, but he didn’t. He probably hadn’t even
entertained it as a possibility. “This is not who I am,” she said again.
The Blood Realm Series
About The Author
Jennifer Blackstream is a USA Today bestselling author of fantasy/paranormal romance. Urban Fantasy will soon be joining her repertoire, and if she doesn’t get hold of the insidious roving gang of plot bunnies, there’s going to be steampunk sprinkled in there too…
To date, Jennifer has two series:
BLOOD PRINCE SERIES (COMPLETE):
Book 1 – Before Midnight
Book 2 – One Bite
Book 3 – Golden Stair
Book 4 – Divine Scales
Book 5 – Beautiful Salvation
Bonus Adventures in the Blood Prince World:
Book 2.5 – What Big Teeth You Have (free when you sign up for mailing list mentioned below)
Book 4.5 – The Pirate’s Witch
Book 5.5 – Dead to Begin With (available only between Thanksgiving and whenever Jennifer takes her Christmas tree down)
BLOOD REALM SERIES (IN PROGRESS SPIN-OFF OF BLOOD PRINCE SERIES):
Book 1 – All for a Rose
Book 2 – Blue Voodoo
Book 3 – The Archer
For news, new releases, and a free copy of What Big Teeth You Have, sign up for Jennifer’s mailing list.
Jennifer has unfailing affection for the authors who have influenced her, including Laurell K. Hamilton, Jim Butcher, and the sorely missed Sir Terry Pratchett. Her books include humor, romance, and action, with enough darkness to keep things very interesting.
When Jennifer isn’t writing, she can be found re-watching Boondock Saints, Noises Off, or Gross Pointe Blank. With one of those classics in the background, she might also be searching Amazon for something she wants, but doesn’t need (Is there any such thing as a kitchen gadget that isn’t an absolute necessity? And don’t even get me started on office supplies…).
You can find Jennifer at
Giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Presented By
No comments:
Post a Comment