LORD OF DANCE & DESIRE

CONTENT WARNING

some violence

painful intercourse (Endometriosis)

dubious consent

torture/kidnapping

HEAT LEVEL

slow burn then, wham

erotic/explicit MF, MFM, & MM scenes*

*however, this is not intended as a RH.

FAE COURT OF CASAKRAINE

LORD OF DANCE & DESIRE is a new standalone slow burn, high heat secondary world Dark Fae fantasy romance!

Never catch the eye of a High Fae Lord. And if you do. . .don’t run. That will only excite the beast.

HASANNAH

All I want is a slot in the High Lord’s ballet company. With a secret edge over the competition, I’ll get it—as long as nothing destroys my focus, and I don’t attract the wrong attention.

On this side of the realm, the rules are different and no one will save you.

The wrong attention shows up at the worst moment, and High Lord Andrei snatches me off the street, whispering filthy promises I’m not stupid enough to believe. . .but my will is no match for a powerful Fae.

I don’t know if he’s the catalyst to launch me into the glittering dance career I crave, or the monster who will drain my soul.

I don’t know if I’m the monster.

I don’t know if I have the strength to care.

ANDREIEN

Her dark eyes lure me in and activate my bloodline’s curse the moment I see her. Innocent but cynical, sweet but sneaky.

My fated match in a mortal, and she’s set me aflame.

The skittish Muse requires gentle wooing, and for now I can hide my hunger. As long as she is obedient.

As long as she doesn’t challenge that she is mine.

But I should have known I wasn’t the only one who saw her, and wanted.

I should have known keeping her alive, and at my side, would become a game of life and death.

WHAT WE LOVE ABOUT LORD OF DANCE & DESIRE

Slow burn, scorching heat MMFM secondary world Fae Court Fantasy romance
Soulbond/soulmates
Powerful, protective, possessive High Fae hero
Mortal, multi-racial heroine coming into power (She’s 30+)
Found family/affection/acceptance
Diverse, Pan, LGBTQ inclusive cast
Dark, Medium angst, Morally Grey
Standalone, no cliffs. First in new series of connected standalones.
1st person, Dual POV
Set in the world of The Fae Prince of Everenne

EXCERPT. . .

The consort of the city Heir would not dance for food and shelter—for anyone but me. There would be no patron other than me.

“It’s late,” I said as she shouldered her bag and gave me a sidelong look. “You shouldn’t be out unescorted at this time of night.”

She widened her eyes at me, a flash of amused dismissal across her features. “I don’t have much choice. Anyway. . .goodbye.”

Goodbye? Oh, you foolish mortal girl. You should know better than to issue challenge.

I exerted a brief flash of will, halting her, and stepped close enough to lower my mouth to her ear, but not close enough to touch her again without permission. She was human—permission would take no more than a whispered request.

“Allow me to escort you home,” I murmured, listening to the increase in the flow of her blood, the thrumming pace of her heart as she tensed, her breath hitching. “You’ve caught my interest, little mortal.”

I inhaled her scent and locked my jaw against the clench, the dizziness, of desire. And desire was a weak word.

“I want you. Take me to your bed and before I have my fill, you’ll scream my name on my tongue, my fingers, and only then on my cock. I won’t allow you to sleep until you break from pleasure. Then in the morning I’ll break you again.”

My dancer froze, staring up at me with wide, startled eyes beginning to glaze with confused lust.

I smiled, lifting my hand in anticipation of her acquiescence, when she shook her head and jerked away.

“No.”

. . .what.

I stilled. Lowered my hand. “I beg your pardon?” I was certain I still spoke English fluently.

She shook her head again, taking another step back and a deep breath as if to force my scent out of her lungs.

Really.

Indignation faded under a sharp pang of concern. She wasn’t. . .addled, was she? The Dark wouldn’t fate me a dimwitted bonded. There was no other explanation for refusing me.

The desire in her eyes faded and was replaced by weary, pain limned cynicism before she suppressed that too, pulling out a polite expression.

She cleared her throat. “I’m. . .appreciative of the offer, but no, thank you. Good night.”

With a last wide-eyed look, she darted away.

She ran from me.

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

FAE COURT OF CASAKRAINE