Author Name: L M Somerton
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Book Titles: “Elemental Love”; “Elemental Hope”
Release Date: Mar 29, 2016; Aug 15, 2017
Format: paperback, ebook
Is This Book Romance?: yes
Story Type: novel
Word Count: 59,472, 59,470
Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis
Genres: Paranormal, BDSM
Keywords/Categories: gay, gay bdsm, D/s, MM, Warlocks
Series Title: Warlocks
Position (Number) in Series: 1
Warnings: Light BDSM themes, kidnap, reference to attempted sexual assault; Violence, kidnap, torture
Elemental warlocks are a rare breed. There are only four known to exist across North America and they don’t tend to advertise their talents. But when you have the power to control earth, air, fire and water there’s bound to be some drama, especially when one of the four is young and untrained.
The elements don’t always combine well and warlocks are no different. When their lives collide, it isn’t just sparks that fly. Add love to the mix and a dangerous cocktail of magic and mayhem is primed to ignite.
Book One: Elemental Love Info
An untrained warlock is a dangerous man to love.
On his twenty-first birthday, Evrain Brookes discovers he is an elemental warlock. The spell suppressing his talent lifts and he has to get used to a whole new existence. The protection that kept him safe during his childhood is gone, his skills are wild and uncontrolled and there are those that seek to use him for their own gain.
Evrain’s grandmother is a witch, his godfather another warlock. Between them they do their best to keep Evrain on the right path. He learns that in order to gain control of his formidable powers, he will need to ‘channel’ through a life partner, a process that happens only with consent and through love. But how will he ever find a man prepared to put up with a Dominant warlock for a boyfriend?
Dominic Castine has no idea that Evrain’s grandmother sees him as a prospective partner for Evrain. He tends her garden and she teaches him about herbs—a trade-off they both enjoy. He is drawn to Evrain’s charismatic presence but doesn’t understand why he wants to drop to his knees and submit to him.
When Agatha is murdered, Evrain and Dominic are thrown together as she manipulates them from beyond the grave. Dominic becomes the pawn in a terrifying game between warlocks whose powers he barely comprehends.
In the end, lives will depend on his courage, his willingness to grant Evrain control and the power of love.
Twenty-one years ago…
“Closed doors, I hate closed doors. Why don’t I have the power to see through them? That, at least, would be a useful ability.” Three-hundred-year-old floorboards creaked as Gregory Thanet paced the galleried landing of Wenlock House. He walked up and down past three doors, each fashioned from heavy oak and furnished with black iron hinges and handles. Two stood ajar, revealing hints of unoccupied bedrooms, but the third was firmly closed, a solid barrier to unwanted intrusion and the cause of Gregory’s current frustration.
“For goodness’ sake, Gregory, you’re wearing out the carpet. Be still.” Gregory’s companion leaned against the gallery rail and gave him an exasperated look.
Gregory paused his march briefly, shot a glare at the woman but then resumed his pacing with a grunt. “Leave me be, woman, I’ll be still when we know that everything is as it should be.”
“Nature moves at her own pace, you know that. There’s no changing it—nor should we. What will be will be.”
“Stop trying to sound like some wise and ancient soothsayer, Agatha. You’re not helping and it doesn’t suit you. The kid is a week late already—you’d think he would be keen to greet the world by now. When he’s grown I’ll remember that he kept me up half the night. I’m sure I’ll get plenty of opportunities for revenge when he’s older.” Gregory stopped and folded his arms across his chest.
“I might not be able to see the future, Gregory Thanet, but even a complete idiot could have predicted that my grandson would arrive today.”
Gregory examined his companion. Agatha looked tired. Her skin was quite smooth, marred only by a few laughter lines around her hazel eyes, eyes that still sparkled with warmth and intelligence. Her silver hair was swept smoothly back and fastened with a comb, intricately fashioned from beaten copper. She remained an attractive woman, who must have possessed great beauty in her youth, but she looked paler than usual and she rested her weight against the banister rather than standing in her usual ramrod-straight stance.
Gregory experienced a rare pang of guilt that he might be adding to his friend’s worries. “All Hallows’ Eve. There’s a lot of power in the air right now.”
Agatha cocked her head to one side and closed her eyes as if listening to sounds that only she could hear. “My grandson will be with us soon and there is little that you or I can do to change the course of his destiny.” For a moment, a worried frown creased her forehead. “It is not certain that he will inherit the gift.”
Gregory sighed. “In this, you deceive yourself, Agatha. The calling has skipped a generation. History dictates that the next born will be unusually powerful and that power will be magnified even further in a male child.”
“There has been no warlock in my family line for over five hundred years, only witches. Why are you so convinced that it will change now? We know of only three others living, Gregory. You, Symeon Malus and Constantine De Vries. It would be a chance in a billion.”
Gregory scratched the tip of his long nose. “I should have bought a lottery ticket then. All the portents point to it, the date alone… It is time. Time the triangle became a square.”
“I’m not sure Symeon Malus will ever be part of that square,” Agatha said. “I don’t see him as the cornerstone of anything with value or integrity.”
“True, and if the child is born with the power, you and I will need to ensure that Symeon’s gaze remains elsewhere.” Gregory shivered. “I swear to the goddess, this country is the dampest place on earth. It’s all right for you, Agatha, you live in the second dampest place on the planet. You’re used to groping through fog. I want to get back to Florida. I need to—before I develop trench foot.”
“Pah. What you really want is to get back to Coryn. You’re a ship without an anchor when the two of you are apart. He could have come to see the child too, you know.” Agatha grabbed a stray hair and pushed it back into a restraining grip.
“Coryn hates airplanes, you know that. I would never ask him to fly across the pond unless it was a life or death situation.”
“If it were, you wouldn’t have to ask him.”
“He reckons that if men were designed to fly through the air, then human cannonball would be a much more popular career choice.”
Agatha snorted. “I think his phobia is a myth. He just uses it as an excuse to get a few days’ break from your—” She whistled and twiddled her fingers in the air.
Gregory rolled his eyes. “Twiddling your fingers that way will get you turned into an aardvark. It takes practice to bend your digits into shapes imbued with power. After thirty-two years together, Coryn is more than capable of dealing with my—” He whistled. “As you so delicately put it.”
Agatha snorted. “Men with magic! Whoever the hell thought that would be a good idea was seriously damaged.” She shook her head slowly.
Gregory grinned and waggled a silver eyebrow.
The mewling cry of a newborn sounded from behind the closed bedroom door, and Agatha allowed her lips to curve into a smile.
“Well, it seems the waiting is over. I have a grandchild—and, from the sound of that bellowing, he’s a fine, healthy boy.”
“About damned time.” Gregory grouched. He still smiled right along with Agatha.
Agatha crossed the landing and knocked softly on the door, which soon swung open to admit her. Gregory followed her inside, pushing down his excitement.
The bedroom was bathed in the cool light of a new dawn. The soft green of the walls seemed to shimmer and the wooden floor was burnished with gold. Gregory looked around in wonder, then dragged his gaze back to the bed.
“Lyssa, James—congratulations, my dears!” Agatha clapped her hands together in delight as she walked over to the bed.
Gregory hung back a little, giving her the privilege of first viewing.
Agatha’s daughter, Lyssa, sat up in bed propped against a mound of pillows. She was pale, her eyes shadowed in the purple of exhaustion, but still she glowed with radiant happiness. A small bundle wrapped in a pale blue blanket rested in her arms. Her husband, James, sat nervously on the edge of the mattress, looking utterly shell-shocked but delighted as the midwife fussed around them.
Lyssa held the baby out to her mother with a smile. “His name is Evrain. Evrain James Brookes. Hold him, Mum, isn’t he beautiful?”
Gregory held his breath as Agatha reached for the small bundle and cradled the child in her arms. She pushed the blanket back from the baby’s head, and a mop of thick black hair was revealed, sticking out in all directions.
“He is absolutely gorgeous, darling. Didn’t you both do well!” Agatha stroked the child’s hair.
Gregory moved in closer. Tiny fists punched at the air, so Gregory offered the boy his own hand. Immediately, the baby grabbed hold, wrapping his fingers around Gregory’s offering with surprising strength. Gregory grinned at Agatha in delight, then looked back to the baby. His eyes were the dark blue of every newborn but, as Gregory focused his senses on the child, he could see that they would become dark green. Just a shade deeper than his own.
Book Two: Elemental Hope Info
A warlock’s blood gives him life. It can also bring his death.
It’s no wonder Evrain Brookes, newly fledged warlock, is feeling the strain. A coven of power-hungry witches is after his blood. Literally. A psychotic warlock wants him dead. His godfather’s training regime is about as much fun as chewing on nettles and an overweight, scarily perceptive cat has moved into his house.
His boyfriend Dominic yearns for a normal life, or at least a safer one. He accepts his role both as Evrain’s submissive partner and as the conduit through which he channels his gift—but he’s afraid for his lover, and the lengths Evrain’s enemies might go to in order to fulfill their lust for power.
When Evrain falls victim to a plot between the Octis Coven and malevolent warlock Symeon Malus, it’s up to Dominic to rescue him. With the help of the two other North American warlocks, Shadow the cat and an old enemy, Dominic takes steps to get his lover back. There’s a high price to pay and no guarantee that the risks he must take will work out but Evrain is worth going through hell for, even if it costs Dominic his life.
“Stand up.” Evrain pointed to a spot on the grass in front of him.
Dominic sank his teeth into his bottom lip but complied. He stood in position, hands loosely clasped behind his back.
“Take your shirt off.” Evrain’s eyes glinted green and gold. “Slowly.”
Fingers trembling, Dominic unfastened the rest of his buttons. He shrugged the fabric from his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.
“Hands behind your back again.” Evrain bent forward and plucked a couple of daisies.
He got to his feet. “It’s hard to improve on perfection, but I think I have a way.” He flicked one of Dominic’s exposed nipples. The sharp sting made Dominic gasp. He took an involuntary step back.
“Keep still. Your body is mine, to do with as I please, and it pleases me to make you squirm.”
Dominic locked his knees. He should object to Evrain’s arrogant claim but he only spoke the truth. He stood still and tried not to flinch as Evrain subjected his nipples to more abuse.
They stood hard and proud, the delicious ache connected directly to his cock. Evrain laid one of the flowers he’d picked against Dominic’s chest. He closed his eyes and muttered a few words under his breath, and his fingers twitched. The daisy’s slender stem wound around Dominic’s nub in a tight spiral, squeezing the already tender flesh. The flower rested in place, firmly secured. Then Evrain repeated the process with the other nipple. The bindings were just as effective as any clamp. Dominic took shallow breaths, dealing with the erotic pain as best he could.
Evrain smirked as he resumed his seat.
“You are far too pleased with yourself.” Dominic resisted the urge to tear at the constricting stems.
“Quiet, sweetheart. There are plenty of things out here I could gag you with. Now—trousers off.”
“When are you going to start calling them pants?” Dominic unfastened the stud at his waistband then lowered his zipper.
“Pants are underwear, something I suspect you aren’t wearing.” Evrain’s grin was feral.
He was right. Again. Dominic sighed but pushed his jeans down to his ankles then kicked them off his bare feet. The movement jolted his chest, giving him a painful reminder of his bound nipples. His cock jerked. Evrain licked his lips.
“I would never condone what Symeon did to you, love, but I have to admit to liking the fur-free look.”
Dominic’s cheeks heated. His hairless groin was a permanent reminder of his treatment at Symeon Malus’ hands. Apart from the burnished copper waves on his head, eyebrows and eyelashes, the rest of his body was entirely hair free. Not having to shave was poor compensation.
“Of course, I would prefer to shave you myself. That would be fun.” Evrain drummed his fingers on one thigh. “Would you be still for me, sweetheart, if I had a blade that close to your balls?”
Dominic shivered. The thought of Evrain baring him that way was highly erotic. As was standing naked in the open air in front of his fully clothed boyfriend. “Isn’t Gregory coming this morning? I don’t really want him to find me like this, Evrain.”
“We have plenty of time for what I have in mind.” Evrain lowered his fly, letting his cock poke through the opening. “Come here.”
Dominic took a few paces forward to straddle Evrain’s thighs. Evrain took a firm hold of Dominic’s dick and gave it a few tugs. “Keep your hands behind your back.” He reached down the side of his chair to pluck a long piece of grass. A few whispered words and Dominic discovered that a single blade could become an effective cock ring when magically bound around the base of his balls. Plant sap also provided a ready source of lubricant, something that Dominic was grateful for as Evrain tugged him forward.
“This stuff tingles,” Evrain said, slathering his shaft in viscous liquid.
“I appreciate your sacrifice.”
“Sarcasm is unbecoming in one so young. I want you impaled on my cock. Now.” Evrain dug his fingers into Dominic’s ass, compelling him downward. Dominic didn’t resist. Without preparation, penetration burned a little but it had only been a few hours since they’d last made love and he was still quite slick. He grunted as his ass met Evrain’s thighs.
He felt so full and the pressure on his prostate was unbearable. He had to move. He attempted to rise but Evrain held him in place for a few torturous seconds. He pulled his head down for a bruising kiss, which left Dominic gasping.
“Now, you can fuck yourself on me.”
Without the use of his hands for balance, the rise and fall motion Dominic managed was uncoordinated and jerky. Evrain let him struggle, staring into his eyes, then took control.
“Hold on to my shoulders.”
Dominic obeyed eagerly. He was desperate to come and only the makeshift cock ring was preventing his orgasm. The frustration was torment.
Evrain grunted and thrust hard into his channel.
“Please!” As the wet heat of Evrain’s release filled Dominic’s passage, Evrain snapped the grass ring around Dominic’s balls with a word, allowing him to come. At last. His orgasm surged through him, his cum splattering Evrain’s shirt. His vision blurred and only Evrain’s hold kept him from losing his balance. He panted hard, sweat cooling on his skin. Evrain brushed a few strands of hair away from his face.
“Take a breath, sweetheart.”
The stems around his nipples fell away. The flood of sudden pain made him scream and come again, his body jerking. Exhausted, he slumped against Evrain. “You son of a bitch,” he muttered.
“You still love me.” Evrain sucked on his neck.
“You’re marking me.” Dominic didn’t object.
“Because you’re mine. You need a collar of love bites.”
“You don’t have time for that. I should dress. Gregory will be here any minute.”
Evrain groaned. “Don’t remind me. What possessed me to agree to his training regime?
The man’s a sadist.”
“Takes one to know one.”
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Is it urban fantasy?
One of my favourite genres to read is urban fantasy. Having completed Elemental Love, the first book in the Warlocks series, I wondered if what I had written fitted the common understanding of the genre or whether it was more akin to paranormal romance. Research proved fascinating and I was amazed to discover how much debate and commentary there has been on the subject.
Wikipedia says: “Urban fantasy describes a work that is set primarily in the real world and contains aspects of fantasy.” The article goes into a lot more detail, but as a starter for ten, the statement is a huge catchall. In my head, the word urban is key. The city in the story is as much of a character as the human and paranormal protagonists. In this case, my new release doesn’t really qualify. Though it is set in and around Portland, Oregon it could equally have been set in many other locations around the world. Portland was chosen for its climate and geography rather than its urban characteristics.
But does that rule it out? Most commentators include stories that features human characters that learn of fantasy creatures inhabiting the contemporary world are involved in some kind of conflict, and bring human characters into that world. Well here, Elemental Love gets a tick in the urban fantasy box. In my story, warlocks are not ‘out’ to the human population. The lead character falls in love with a human who inevitable gets drawn into paranormal rivalries.
But does this make it paranormal romance? A D/s romance is central to the story, but there’s more to it than a love story. Author Tracy-Cooper Posey puts in well in an article she wrote, which I’ve paraphrased here: even if the hero and heroine (or in my case heroes) are locked together having sex for most of the book, but there’s a war between species and races, and the story does goes on for two or three books or more, or the same characters keep showing up in different stories, or there’s back story that taps into history going back for millennia, then you’re actually reading urban fantasy.
So, Elemental Love qualifies on some counts. It’s the first book in a trilogy where the same characters will show up. Warlock history dates back hundreds of years and though there might not be a full-scale war going on, there’s certainly conflict. I think that’s enough to count this series in. I hope you enjoy it.
Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.
She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.
Author Website: www.lmsomerton.com
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