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“Ann Cory enthralls, delights, and
overwhelms
with sensuality that is scorching.”
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Celtic Love Knots -
Beyond Green Man's Gate,
Nov 1, 2007
Whiskey Creek Press
ISBN: 978-1-59374-992-7
Genre: Torrid Romance Historical
Format: e-Book
Ryanne leaves the festivities of Beltane to walk among the
wildflowers. She comes to a gated garden with a Green Man sculpture
in the middle and her curiosity is piqued. Little does she realize
that Cernunnos, keeper of the garden, waits to seduce her in the
wild fashion she secretly longs for.
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Reviews
"Incorporating
myths and legends in a Celtic setting with a decidedly sexy spin,
Whiskey Creek Press Torrid's Celtic Love Knots Volume 6 is sure to
delight all who love their fantasy with a hefty dose of eroticism!"
~ Kwips and Kritiques, 5 Clovers
"In this delightfully sexy anthology, Ann Cory and Brenda Williamson
take you on a trip through the mists of myth and legend with pair of
creative stories that tease and delight. Two delightful stories from
two great authors, and you can't lose."
~ Romance at Heart
"Heat is definitely on, in both stories. Characters are
well-sketched...it is a good read.
~ Enchanting Reviews
Excerpt
Ryanne fell
away from the festivities of Beltane to inspect the lush grove.
Wildflowers, sprinkled along fields of green, seemed to taunt her
from afar. Even the haunting Celtic harp music and mouthwatering
aromas of sweet butter rolls, succulent chicken, rosemary and thyme
couldn’t keep her attention. Her appetite was for nourishment other
than food.
Quinn would expect her to dance the Maypole in the evening beneath
the pale dust of the moon. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be there. His
disappointment would be great, but she could see no other way to
spare his feelings, and hoped his pain would lessen over time. While
charming and good husband material, Quinn lacked the intrigue Ryanne
looked for in a man. Strong in stature and intelligence, he exuded a
seriousness that didn’t appeal to her freethinking nature. And then
there was the conservative sex.
Her body lay dormant, forever trapped in a bitter winter, while
spring bloomed all around. A forbidden lust lay out of reach. She
yearned for skilled hands to caress her body and ramble along hidden
passages awaiting discovery. Quinn’s passive demeanor was better
reserved for demure ladies with a penchant for the mundane. He would
never consider weaving her wrists together with blades of grass, or
thrashing her bare bottom with broomcorn. A hunger far more decadent
festered between her legs.
The music grew faint as Ryanne quietly stole away, glancing back
once to watch the ladies in pretty crowns made of flower garlands.
Ribbons in scarlet, green, and gold cascaded down the length of
their hair. Their long dresses swirled as they skipped about with
childlike smiles frozen on their anxious faces. The evening would
decide their fate, and they welcomed it with open arms. Unlike them,
Ryanne’s interests ran beyond marriage, babies, and a simple life. A
bigger world waited, filled with excitement and new experiences. Her
spirit craved adventure, and her body desired passion. She didn’t
see those dreams coming to fruition with any of the men in town.
While Quinn turned heads with his dusky locks and peacock-blue eyes,
Ryanne knew she’d never be truly satisfied. She would only hurt him
later.
The sound of the festival was far behind her as she approached the
field. Lilies and thistles brushed against her legs as she hiked her
dress up to her knees. Whispery touches of grass tickled her ankles
as she walked, making her laugh like a young girl rather than the
woman she was. While her people spouted the life of tradition, she
set her sights on the unobtainable. She’d always been the one in
trouble at school for her daydreaming ways. Teachers wanted her to
be a young lady, reserved and quiet. She fought the conventional
ways, knowing full well it wasn’t her nature to live her life for a
man as he saw her, but to be the woman she was inside.
Ann Cory
©
copyright 2007
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