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Shadowmere #4
Shadow Runners
Heat radiated off the heaving beast between Lady Sonja Raine’s thighs. His labored breaths vied with her own. Lifting her head as they struggled up a slight rise, she listened for sounds of pursuit, calculating the distance between her and the soldiers behind her.
Not far. They were closing the distance she’d worked hard to put between them.
Dismissing them for the moment, she scanned the landscape that lay before her as the sun disappeared behind the thick canopy of the towering forest that sprawled from horizon to horizon and dusk settled over the land. Narrowing her eyes and trying to pierce the gray, swirling mist that was slowly rising among the trees and underbrush, she searched for some sign that her plight was observed by the denizens of that land.
The Shadow Lands. Shadowmere.
There, all manner of unnaturals lived.
She had never actually seen one, but she had grown up on the tales about the frightening folk that peopled the Shadow Lands—beast men. Since the war that had been waged between the naturals and the unnaturals, no mortal had crossed that border and returned to tell the tale. Adrenaline surged through her at the thought and her heart hammered a little faster.
Did she dare?
Sonja thrust the doubts aside.
She would not have lived half the number of summers she could claim if she had been prone to entertain doubts and allow fear to freeze her when she needed to act. She had learned to trust her instincts.
Flecks of lather from the horse’s withers spattered the already soiled and tattered gown she wore as the horse surged forward. Her long, dark hair, battered into a wild tangle by the wind since it had torn free of all restraints, whipped across her face and breasts.
Impatiently, she lifted one hand from the reins and thrust the wayward locks behind her shoulders. The wind blowing against her heated skin instantly became more pronounced as the action exposed her breasts, all but spilling from the torn neck of her gown, and a shiver clawed its way up her spine.
By her reckoning she was nearing the dead zone—nearly across the neutral zone that divided King Vladislav’s realm from the Shadow Lands it bordered, and it had been no part of her design to provoke the unnaturals to attack.
Time to execute her plan.
Dragging in a sustaining breath, tensing for action, she wrenched the reins abruptly. The horse stumbled, pitching her from the saddle, but she was ready. She kicked her feet free of the stirrups, managing a slight twist as she was hurtled toward the ground and succeeded in catching the brunt of her fall on her shoulder and side. The air was forced from her lungs in an inelegant grunt. She rolled to her belly almost at once, struggling to ignore the pain from the fall and focus on listening.
Were the border guards advancing on her even now as she lay sprawled helpless, half conscious, she wondered?
She heard nothing but the sighing of the wind through the trees, but she felt the vibrations of her pursuers.
Not far. They were closing the distance she’d worked hard to put between them.
Dismissing them for the moment, she scanned the landscape that lay before her as the sun disappeared behind the thick canopy of the towering forest that sprawled from horizon to horizon and dusk settled over the land. Narrowing her eyes and trying to pierce the gray, swirling mist that was slowly rising among the trees and underbrush, she searched for some sign that her plight was observed by the denizens of that land.
The Shadow Lands. Shadowmere.
There, all manner of unnaturals lived.
She had never actually seen one, but she had grown up on the tales about the frightening folk that peopled the Shadow Lands—beast men. Since the war that had been waged between the naturals and the unnaturals, no mortal had crossed that border and returned to tell the tale. Adrenaline surged through her at the thought and her heart hammered a little faster.
Did she dare?
Sonja thrust the doubts aside.
She would not have lived half the number of summers she could claim if she had been prone to entertain doubts and allow fear to freeze her when she needed to act. She had learned to trust her instincts.
Flecks of lather from the horse’s withers spattered the already soiled and tattered gown she wore as the horse surged forward. Her long, dark hair, battered into a wild tangle by the wind since it had torn free of all restraints, whipped across her face and breasts.
Impatiently, she lifted one hand from the reins and thrust the wayward locks behind her shoulders. The wind blowing against her heated skin instantly became more pronounced as the action exposed her breasts, all but spilling from the torn neck of her gown, and a shiver clawed its way up her spine.
By her reckoning she was nearing the dead zone—nearly across the neutral zone that divided King Vladislav’s realm from the Shadow Lands it bordered, and it had been no part of her design to provoke the unnaturals to attack.
Time to execute her plan.
Dragging in a sustaining breath, tensing for action, she wrenched the reins abruptly. The horse stumbled, pitching her from the saddle, but she was ready. She kicked her feet free of the stirrups, managing a slight twist as she was hurtled toward the ground and succeeded in catching the brunt of her fall on her shoulder and side. The air was forced from her lungs in an inelegant grunt. She rolled to her belly almost at once, struggling to ignore the pain from the fall and focus on listening.
Were the border guards advancing on her even now as she lay sprawled helpless, half conscious, she wondered?
She heard nothing but the sighing of the wind through the trees, but she felt the vibrations of her pursuers.
Nook
First published May 1, 2009
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About the author
Jaide Fox
77 books65 followersJaide Fox has always had a passion for fantasy and the paranormal, having discovered both at a young age and devouring every book she could get her hands on, watching every movie that even hinted at her interests. It wasn't until she was in high school that her mother introduced her to romance--and she was hopelessly hooked.
Eroticism has never really been a part of fantasy, nor romance, and Jaide craved to see the two combined. Not able to find anything on the current market, she decided she'd write her own books to satisfy herself.
Jaide hopes readers will enjoy her first offering from NCP. She has many more novels planned and is currently breathing life into other adventures.
She lives in the middle of nowhere in a swamp, surrounded by all sorts of wild creatures (including snakes and spiders--which she gets rid of on sight!) and one mottled black cat who ambushes her from time to time.
Also writes Erotic Historical Romances under Julia Keaton and Celeste Anwar.
Eroticism has never really been a part of fantasy, nor romance, and Jaide craved to see the two combined. Not able to find anything on the current market, she decided she'd write her own books to satisfy herself.
Jaide hopes readers will enjoy her first offering from NCP. She has many more novels planned and is currently breathing life into other adventures.
She lives in the middle of nowhere in a swamp, surrounded by all sorts of wild creatures (including snakes and spiders--which she gets rid of on sight!) and one mottled black cat who ambushes her from time to time.
Also writes Erotic Historical Romances under Julia Keaton and Celeste Anwar.
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