The wait is over!
STOLEN WISH, the fifth book in the Blood Realm Series is now available!
Stolen Wish
(The Blood Realm Series, Bk #5)
by Jennifer Blackstream
Blurb:
PRIDE MAKES HIM BOLD ENOUGH TO COVET HER
Ali is a notorious thief, skilled enough to steal whatever his heart desires—except what it desires most. Anara. His fellow criminal would never let him get so close if she suspected he knew who she truly was. But a man can only resist temptation for so long…
PREJUDICE CANNOT HIDE PASSION FOREVER
Princess Anara is a tiger shifter obsessed with redeeming her race. With fierce determination, she’s stealing back the sacred objects of her people, the loss of which cost them the ability to safely convert their mates. Nothing and no one will stand in her way—not even a relentless thief who sees more than he should, and says more than she’s ready to hear…
DUTY AND LOVE BOTH DEMAND SACRIFICE
A dark sorcerer inadvertently gives Ali the leverage he needs to demand Anara’s hand in marriage. He’ll get the wife he’s coveted for so many years, and she will get the chance to finally explore the passion that she’s denied herself for too long. But even with a djinn’s magic at their fingertips, happiness is no guarantee. That which is easily gained is just as easily lost. If they want a future together, they’ll have to fight for it…
Available for purchase at
Excerpt
I’m not alone.
Anara slid into the shadow cast by a large pillar,
stilling her breath as she scanned her surroundings. Visconti Malik’s cavernous
home was empty on this level, none of the current occupants trusted to be in
the showroom when their master was away.
The cool tile chilled her back through her cloak as she
held still, reaching inside herself for her other half. Her beast stirred, a
tiger’s soft golden head rising, opening shining green eyes. Three high-arched
doorways on either side of her gave a breathtaking view of the city around the
hilltop, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the surrounding room. The
massive pillars could be hiding anyone.
Her nostrils flared, parsing out the myriad of scents
that swirled in the wind. The ghost of the night's dinner still hung in the air
in a perfume of figs, pomegranates, goat meat, and barley. Underneath that
slept the scent of the treasure the visconti loved so much, bragged of so
often. And still below that was another scent. One that did not belong.
Masculine. Sand. The sharp scent of clothing dye. And a
familiar hint of foolhardy excitement.
A smile spread over her lips. She knew that scent. Knew
the man it belonged to. Her stomach fluttered in excitement as she remained
hidden behind the pillar, waiting for the soft footsteps to pass her hiding
place.
Ali was silent for a human, she would allow him that. But
a weretiger’s senses were unrivaled, and she would have heard the slap of his
bare feet on the tile even if he had been moving as cautiously as he should have
been. She shook her head, stalking him as he approached the far wall where the
treasures glittered on rows of pedestals.
“Hello, beautiful,” he whispered.
Anara froze, her hand hovering over his shoulder.
Irritation furrowed her brow, and she crossed her arms. “How did you hear me?”
she demanded in a whisper.
Ali jumped, whirling around in midair and nearly dropping
the gold rhyton he held in his hands. Blue eyes opened so wide they caught the
moonlight, turning his irises into crystal pools of light. The silky black hair
hanging to his shoulders framed those eyes, made them all the brighter for the
shadows that bathed the sides of his face. Anara dug her fingernails into her
palm, resisting the urge to touch a lock of that hair, see if it was as soft as
it looked.
He exhaled a deep breath, muscled shoulders sagging under
the thin material of his caftan. “Habibi, you scared a year off my life. Why
would you do such a thing?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You were talking to the rhyton,
weren’t you?” She drummed her fingers along her biceps and lifted her chin in
pretended offense. “What a fool I was to think I was the beautiful one you were
greeting.”
A grin spread over Ali’s mouth, and he rolled the
treasure down his arm, carelessly flinging it to his other hand as he focused
on her. The intricately carved head of a ram seemed to flash its disapproval as
Ali raised the cup in a mock toast. “Had I known you were here, I would not
have wasted those words on a meaningless trinket such as this. You are the true
treasure here.”
As always, Anara found his smile infectious, and soon she
was returning his grin even as she tsked at him. “If you’re wasting your time
with baubles such as that, then you are ignorant of the visconti's greatest
wealth.”
Blue eyes glittered with renewed greed as he replaced the
rhyton on its pedestal. “Oh?”
Anara cast a glance around to make certain they hadn’t
disturbed the sleeping servants. The large room was open, security depending on
the palace’s strategic placement atop a hill and the knowledge that anyone
suspected of stealing from the visconti would suffer for a long time before he
died. Malik was too proud of his treasures and his wealth to lock it away, and
he clearly felt that the level of torture and violence he leveled on would-be
thieves was more than enough to make up for his audacity. Anara said a prayer
of gratitude for his foolishness as she redirected her attention to the locked
door that led to the interior of the home.
She took a careful step toward the door, her senses alert
for any sound that might mean they were in danger of getting caught. The huge
space remained empty, not a hint of sound bouncing off the gold and cerulean
tiles that lined the floors, walls, and ceilings. With a wink at Ali, she
resumed her original quest.
He followed her lead, trailing without a trace of the
pride that so often hobbled other men. It was perhaps his greatest quality, his
ability to put practicality above pride. A very rare quality.
“And what precious secrets is Malik hiding, then?” Ali
whispered.
“If you would do proper research instead of just grabbing
whatever shiny object catches your fancy, then you would know. Now be silent.”
The door’s lock gave way under the careful application of
the slender tools Anara had crafted herself. Together, they snuck inside and
made their way down the short hallway, going left when it came to a T.
The scent of rich ink, expensive thread, and the
unmistakable mustiness of a space with no windows guided Anara until she came
to the room she’d been looking for. Polished tile cover the walls and ceiling
as in the other rooms, but this alcove boasted comfortable pillows and cushions
for lounging, and expensive silks and tapestries broke up the endless shining
tiles. A room meant for entertaining. For impressing.
Anara kept her eyes on the tapestry at the far end, its
vibrant threads depicting a majestic Roc holding one of its precious eggs, its
wings turned to burning red embers by the glorious, intricate stitching of a
setting sun. She stepped around the various seating arrangements, her heart
beating faster as she approached her goal.
Her fingers had just brushed the wall-hanging when Ali’s
body heat washed over her back. Anara blinked and paused, her nerves tingling
with the pleasant awareness of Ali’s proximity. It wasn’t the first time he’d
invaded her space, and once again she reflected that if he knew that the veil
she wore was not just a means of hiding her identity during her nocturnal
activities, but a means to prevent anyone from looking on the face of the
sultan’s daughter—he would never dare to stand so close to her. No man did.
But he didn’t know. And he must never know.
“Have you forgotten what you’re looking for?” he
murmured.
The words were another curl of heat into the air, and he
shifted closer. Anara realized she was holding her breath, concentrating on the
gentle press of his chest against her back. The tingling in her nerves turned
to a crackle, and she quickly snuffed it out.
“I have not forgotten. I am waiting for you to realize
your complete disrespect for my personal space.” She kept her voice light,
gently recriminating.
An inhale right next to her ear startled her, and she
jerked her head to the side, prevented from seeing him by the hood of her
cloak.
“You smell good.”
She pressed her lips together and turned enough to face
him, narrowing her eyes at the wicked smirk on his face.
“You smell of wine. Perhaps you could refrain from
breathing on me so at least one of us can keep a clear head?”
His blue eyes darkened and he stepped forward, crowding
her and prompting her to tilt her face up to keep meeting his eyes or else step
back in retreat. Her tiger raised its head, eyeing the man before her with
burgeoning interest. Ali leaned closer, filling her senses with his unique
scent. Her pulse throbbed as he stopped with his mouth an inch from her ear.
“Am I making it difficult for you to keep a clear head?
Perhaps you’ll join me for a drink so I can…apologize?”
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
Presented By
No comments:
Post a Comment