Violet Midnight Teaser by Allie Burke May 2, 2011Posted by Jaidis in Come & Get It Romance & Erotica Week.
Tags: Artists, Authors, Featured, Interviews
My name is Allie Burke. I’m the author of The Enchanters series, a three-part paranormal romance series which begins with Violet Midnight. Emerald Destiny, the second installment of the series, is scheduled to release this month.
The following is a short story I’ve written in honor of Come & Get It Romance & Erotica Week. It takes place between Chapter 25 and the Epilogue of Violet Midnight. Want to read more? Well. Don’t forget to enter the giveaway! :)
She didn’t like beds. She didn’t like days.
Once he promised he would never let her wake up alone. Once he said he wasn’t going anywhere.
For two days he lied with her as she slept off the pain. Excruciating pain that accompanied betrayal, loss. Pain of death.
Beside him she laid sideways beneath the covers, the thick, violet comforter pulled to her chin, her pale hand lax beside her cheek on the white pillow. Gently gliding his hand across her face, he pushed back the wild crimson curls falling into her eyes. Her eyes fluttered open, emerald and luminous under the moonlight gleaming through the bedroom window. Briefly she gazed into his eyes, and then she started to cry.
“Don’t,” he growled, his thumbs swiping at the tears flowing down her cheeks. His arm linked tightly around her tiny body and he pulled her close, his hand cradling her head into his chest. “Please,” he whispered, “don’t do that.”
Her eyes rose cautiously and she once again gazed into his eyes.
“Christian is fine,” he said, flattening his hand on her cheek. “Cam’s fine. I’m fine. Mark, Lana, Shawn—beautiful, you saved everyone. We are all breathing because of you. So please, just… don’t cry.”
She let out a long breath that she very well may have been holding for two days, her eyes slitting as the last of her tears leaked out of her eyes.
He hooked his finger under her chin, summoning her gaze to his. His fingers coursed down her neck, crossed her heart and traced a line between her breasts until his hand settled flat on her stomach. She smiled softly, and she craned her neck to kiss him. Her tippy toes leveraged against the sheets, raising her to him. His hand went around to the small of her back, slipping under her thin tank top and pressing her body hard into his. Beneath her lips her throat sang for him as he kissed her. Her toes glided between his legs, her foot fastening around his ankle, and, wrapping her arms around his body, she rolled him onto her. Breaking the kiss and breathing frantically into the crook of his neck, she tugged on his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. He kissed her neck, his arms tight around her and his hands locking in her thick curls. A melodic cry filled the room. Impossibly limberly her body arched high into his. She kissed him eagerly.
His grip loosened in her hair, he froze.
Fire burst through his chest, flames rising up his throat and blazing bright behind his eyes. The overwhelming scent of thick smoke filled his head. Unbearable heat burned his skin, bubbling down his arms and searing his fingertips.
He let go of her. Backed himself away to the farthest corner of the bed and closed his eyes. He clamped his lips together, slowly inhaling the clean bedroom air into his lungs.
A sudden hazy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Flooding into him was relief. The cold plunged deep inside him, distinguishing the flames and breezing away the black smoke. Slowly the fever relieved and cool tingling brought the sense of feeling back into his hands.
“Open your eyes,” her beautiful voice said.
He found her crouching before him, her hands flattened on his chest, her eyes closely assessing him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He smiled loosely, drunk from the leftover power that washed through him. He didn’t bother with the question of why. It wasn’t anything like this out on the clearing, but at the time he wasn’t thinking of her sexy, bare body, or of that noise she always made when his lips and tongue caressed her neck. There were fifty people out there that night. This wasn’t the same thing. This had something to do with her. With him, and her.
The sweet harmony of her laugh wafted pungently through the room like a fresh stick of rosemary.
“I’m sorry,” she said, cupping his cheek in her hand. “I forget how new all of this is to you. It’s cute.”
“Cute,” he repeated sarcastically.
Her eyes flung at the door of the bedroom. At the front of the house, a door opened and quietly clicked shut. Her reaction showed no fear, no distress, but surprise. As he had, she distinguished the visitor’s identity the very second the door opened.
Her eyes turned to him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion, her lips pursed as she asked him the silent question.
He took her hand in his, carefully helped her stand from the bed and steadied her body against his chest.
“I’m okay,” she promised him.
He led her away from the bed, and in her usual graceful step, she followed him down the hallway. She halted in the living room as she caught sight of the man standing nervously by the front door. He blinked his bloodshot eyes at her from across the room, waving his hand through his sandy brown hair and slowly stepping towards her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“He’s been here,” Elias said quietly. “For most of two days.”
He softly kissed her cheek, dropped her hand and walked purposely into the kitchen. Voices were clear through the cracking of egg shells and the sizzling of bacon.
“Your wards fell,” the man told her.
She did not answer.
He breathed long and hard. Elias imagined him nervously running a hand through his hair. “Are you okay?” he gently asked her.
Again, there was no answer from her.
Elias quietly sidestepped, and through the opening of the kitchen he watched her glide forward and wrap her arms around him. He buried his face into her shoulder, and his arms enveloped her, his hand tight on the back of her neck under her curls, as if, for one last time, he could hold her like he had done so many times before.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I was the one, I was the one who was supposed to—”
“It’s not your fault,” she stressed.
“No.” She held his face in her hands, her deep breaths soothing harmony back into her voice. “You listen to me. I’m. Right. Here. Without you, I wouldn’t be.”
His hands shook recklessly on her back, and his gaze faded away from her.
“Look at me.”
The sound of her voice brought him back to her and his bloody, chestnut eyes gazed intently at her.
“You have always been here for me. Through everything. You’ve done more than I could ever ask for.”
He nodded like a child would if he were being lectured.
She draped her arms around his neck until he firmly returned the embrace.
“Thank you,” she said.
He inhaled the lavender scent lingering in her hair, and he kissed the top of her head. He turned to leave, but, stepping into the living room and approaching them, Elias called him back.
His back to Elias, he twitched. Elias had yet to call him by that name. Only she called him that. It wasn’t some intentional motive on Elias’s part. At that moment, his name just seemed to come out that way.
Elias offered his hand. Without hesitation, he shook it steadily.
“Thank you,” Elias said.
“I didn’t do anything,” he said. He shook his head, his eyes lost in it, and he left.
Elias laid his rigid arm over her shoulders and held her tight against his side. “You alright?”
A silent moment passed before she nodded her head. “I’ve never seen him like that,” she said absently. “Ever.”
It may be true that Elias should have reacted differently at that moment. Had he said something, maybe her blindness for what lived in her heart wouldn’t have compelled her so to look away for so long. Instead, he walked her to the kitchen table and set a plate of breakfast in front of her.
She scooped a load of fluffy yellow eggs into her mouth, and she moaned. “Elias,” she grumbled, covering her full mouth with her hand, “you are a god with a spatula. I swear.”
He smiled, taking a chair across from her and delicately gliding his hand under hers. He squeezed it gently, twisting the outrageously large Tiffany’s diamond around her finger.
“Do you want to get married tonight?” he asked her.
Her jaw stretched as she ate, she froze. Her face lit up, her emerald eyes wide and more dazzling than usual. She gulped her food down, and she smiled.
“Yes,” she said brightly. “I do.”
Copyright 2011 by Allie Burke
Thank you SO much Allie for stopping by and sharing this with us! I can’t wait to read your series now!
Want to know more about Allie? She can be found at the following places:
Be sure to enter my Come & Get It giveaway HERE where you will have the chance to win a digital copy of Violet Midnight!