been what Guinevere and Lancelot felt when in each other’s arms, or Tristan and Isolde.
“Why didn’t you come for me?” I asked once his lips chose to release mine, albeit with a trail of drool leading down my chin.
He kissed me again and I completely forgot I’d even asked the question.
“I didn’t hear you enter,” said Simon. “Who allowed you in?”
“The door was open. Where is your manservant?” I murmured, still too captured by his kiss to care much for earthly words. Everything was fine now; I was with Simon and nothing else mattered except for the wetness on my chin that was, little by little, demanding all of my attention. If only I could grasp the linen peeking out from his pocket…
“I… must have left the door open. Careless.”
We kissed a few times more and then Simon pulled away to look me in the face, beaming widely, his eyes sparkling with a wild energy that didn’t describe him.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Elle, someone who has been asking after you.”
Frankly, I’d been on the verge of suggesting ‘Let’s lock ourselves in the nearest bedroom and play the game of discover Elle’s nether regions’, but he seemed so enthusiastic about introducing me to this person, I said nothing. I opened my mouth to mention Sasha (who still hadn’t reemerged from wherever she’d disappeared) but Simon cut me off.
“He’s very keen to meet you.”
Grabbing my hand and tugging me eagerly along, like a child wanting to show off a new toy, Simon led me through the house to the lounge where a fire was lit in the grate, throwing yellow light and shadows about the room. A man was seated beside the fireplace, in a large wing-back chair. He stood as we entered and his shadow clung to the ceiling and walls, seeming to reach across the room, large and long, as if it had a life of its own.
As soon as I walked through the threshold and into the room, the man’s eyes were on me. Piercing and narrowed—as though they could see through me, into my very soul. I felt my heart start to pound and a flush stole my cheeks.
“Ah, Miss Denney, I presume.”
I supposed his accent was English, but it had an oddly placeless feel to it. Timeless too; a gentle burr to his tones that gave his soft voice an unearned power. It was a hypnotic voice, almost sensuous.
“This is Carl,” Simon was still practically bouncing with enthusiasm—an enthusiasm which had never characterized him before. Now that I thought of it, he’d been acting… quite strange since our reunion—much more animated than I remembered him. “Carl Graves. Carl, this is Elle Denney.”
“So I see,” purred Carl Graves. He approached me and reaching for my hand, kissed it lightly. He never took his eyes from mine and he didn’t drop my hand, even after he removed his lips.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Graves.” I tried to be polite, but I found Simon’s friend a bit unsettling, even if I wasn’t quite sure why.
“Call me Carl. Everyone does.”
He was tall and thickset, with piercing, ice-blue eyes set in a face that was difficult to age precisely, though his hair was slate grey.
I took a step away from him, but the next second, the room seemed to spin around me. As it did so, I felt his hold on my hand tighten.
“Are you quite alright, Miss Denney?” The voice of Carl Graves seemed to reverberate inside my head. All I could see in front of me were his eyes, needle-sharp, boring into me. The room faded, sound faded and I was left with nothing but the waking dream of his eyes and voice—they seemed to hold me up, like a puppet on a string.
“Perhaps you should lie down.”
The world became foggy, and then I remembered nothing more.
Princess of Lost Memories
Is available at:
Amazon Kindle * Amazon UK
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Also Available:
Hell on Earth
Chasing Demons #1
by J.R. Rain
and H.P. Mallory
(read on for a sample)
Chapter One
The running man skidded to a halt at the intersection and did a quick sweep–left or right?–then picked right and kept on running.
The fact that he even stopped to think about which way to run meant he was still thinking clearly through the panic. If he’d been operating on instinct, as most people did when they were being pursued, he would’ve just kept running. That might have been to his disadvantage–thinking could slow you down. It might also mean he wasn’t worried about