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Wolf In Shining Armor – Autumn Animalia series, Ellora’s Cave

Wolf In Shining Armor – Autumn Animalia series, Ellora’s Cave

Copyright 2006 by Charlene Teglia

Ellora’s Cave Publishing, all rights reserved

Just Erotic Romance Review: 4/5 Stars, Heat Level O

“Wolf in Shining Armor is an extremely quick paced, super erotic medieval set historical/paranormal romance. Rorik and Ailiss are well matched and engaging characters…I recommend this story to those of you who are looking for something that packs more of a punch rather than a warm fuzzy feeling, as it is intensely erotic. And it definitely is one to add to your collection if you are a fan of Ms. Teglia’s work.” - Mireya Orsini

Blurb:

Rorik was bitten by a demon wolf, but the curse has been a blessing in disguise. The rumors that surround the dark Celtic knight unnerve his opponents in the tourneys and aid him in winning the funds he needs to return home, roust the usurping baron who took his lands, and marry the lady Elissa Montreade, his betrothed.

But in spite of his victories, Rorik is thwarted in his plans to live happily ever after with Elissa. Mostly because the baron, Alain Devere, helped himself to her along with Rorik’s home and property.

Bent on vengeance, Rorik steals Alain’s betrothed, Ailiss, on the eve before their wedding. But his plans for revenge are overthrown when he sees Ailiss and the wolf within recognizes his mate. Once he gets his paws on her, he isn’t letting go! Rorik’s battle with Devere is nothing compared to the sensual war he wages to claim his captive bride.

Excerpt:

Rorik hardened his heart and firmed his resolve. He'd have what he
came for. He'd wreak his vengeance on Alain by stealing the man's
bride, a fitting retribution. He'd have what was coming to him.
And he had a wedding night coming. Alain had robbed him of his. He
would return the favor. Here, now, so there could be no question that
he'd claimed the woman before taking her away. He wanted a wife. If he
was denied the one he'd been promised, he would have this one. Ailiss,
her name was. It suited her, he thought.

He did acknowledge that the woman he'd come to steal might not be
pleased with his plan. Simon was forever telling him that his fearsome
reputation and hard ways would not win a lady's love, but if she had
been willing to marry Alain Devere, she could hardly consider him a
worse husband. She might even view him as an improvement.

Rorik stripped and then set about securing his prize, his movements
swift and sure in the darkened chamber. A length of silk served to gag
the wench. Another covered her eyes, and still another bound her
wrists together. The other end Rorik tied to the bedpost and smiled at
the convenience. By now his quarry was awake, although barely a minute
had passed since he first set foot inside the bedchamber.

She struggled and managed a few good kicks before he caught her feet
and ruthlessly tied them wide apart. Her strength both surprised and
pleased him. He drew his small ornamental knife, used mainly for
eating, but which now served to slit her garment from top to bottom.
She froze at the cold touch of metal. Then Rorik stripped away the
cloth and stood back to undress, his eyes devouring the naked flesh
revealed to his gaze.

She was a vision of erotic beauty, naked and spread for his pleasure,
and Rorik burned to claim her. He would take those perfect breasts,
that small waist, the graceful curve of her hips. He would take the
softly furred mound between her thighs that lay exposed and
unprotected, his to plunder. He would spend his seed in her body. He
felt hunger rising, like none he'd ever known. A dark hunger, a need
to dominate and demand submission.

Beneath the animal haze of his hunger, Rorik realized she was afraid.
He could feel her fear like a living thing in the night as he lowered
himself over her, trapping her with his weight. He could feel it as
surely as he felt her soft breasts against his skin, and it didn't
please him. Her breath came too fast, her heart pounded too fiercely
and Rorik frowned, recognizing the signs of panic. He intended to
seduce her into cooperating, not brutalize her.

She lay frozen beneath him until she felt the hard shaft of his cock
against her thigh, seeking out and probing at the entrance to her
body, and then her fear found expression in violent struggle. Rorik
was hard-pressed to hold her down with his weight. As small as she
was, she nearly succeeded in throwing him off.

Then he realized something else.

She wasn't fighting him. She had no fear of him. Her skin burned
against his and the rich scent of her arousal filled the air. He knew
if he tasted the pink flesh between her thighs, he would find her
cream flowing for him. But she was fighting the silken bonds as if
they were the living embodiment of every dark horror she knew or
imagined. She fought so wildly that he feared she'd injure herself.
He wanted her bound. More than that, he wanted her submissive. But he
couldn't allow her to hurt herself.

Rorik hesitated then removed the cloth that cut off her vision. Her
wide eyes met his. Feral, golden eyes that sent a jolt of recognition
through him. Dimly, he remembered seeing this before. Golden eyes in
wild panic. Blood running from trapped appendages. Black hair that
blended into the night.

A she-wolf, caught in a trap, another night, long ago. The wolf had
torn at herself in a frenzy to be free. She would have injured herself
if he hadn't stopped her. To spare her that, he'd risked coming
forward to free her. He hadn't been able to explain the impulse that
drove him, but he couldn't see the creature suffer for the desperate
need to be free.

He'd taken pity on the wolf and gained a vicious wound for his
trouble. When he recovered, he found he'd gained something more. A
dark legacy that slept inside him and awoke when needed, lending
strength and instinct and heightened senses that had helped Rorik
survive countless battles.

Every full moon it rose to ascendancy. The moon would be full in one
more night. Already the wolf within prowled and pushed, awake and
wanting to break free.

The hunger for this woman belonged to the wolf, Rorik realized. Not
his human self. Was it the near-full moon or the woman who had woken
his wolf? Her scent drew him like no other. Instinct demanded that he
claim her.

He had known other women, but none had ever made the beast within him
rise and demand to mate. It burned in him like a fever, and Rorik
realized the touch of her skin against his had triggered this animal
need to mate and to be acknowledged as the dominant one.

He stared down at her and she stared back at him, a trapped wild
creature touched by moonlight. What was she?

Even as the question formed, he knew the answer. The woman and the
wolf who'd torn his flesh that long ago night were one.

For news and excerpts, visit www.charleneteglia.com

posted by Michelle Pillow at 12:39 PM