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© 2012 Hailey Edwards
Daughters of Askara, Book 2
There’s such a thing as too much change. Emma’s sister is mated. Revolution is brewing in her home realm. The last straw: her would-be mate is back from the dead and back under her skin—yet when it comes to the last five years, he’s not talking.
Desperate for a chance to start her own life, she answers the queen’s call to ensure equality for all of Askara’s newly freed slaves. It’s the perfect opportunity to escape a heartbreak in the making named Harper.
Harper loses a piece of his fractured soul when Emma walks away. His lies were meant to protect her from torturous years that drove him to the point of madness. Instead, when he comes to her a year later to help avert a crisis in a freed-slave community, the wedge those lies drove between them is firmly in place.
As their new lives collide with old wounds, they race to stop a threat that could not only destroy the queen, but send Harper back to the hell he escaped. Emma must decide if the man she still loves deserves equal rights to her heart.
Warning this title contains torn pants, ripped gowns, and sand in uncomfortable places. It also includes one overcompensating villain, one gnarly priest, and two battered hearts willing to give this thing called love one last chance.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Evermine:
Harper walked a circuit of the guest bedroom. Night sounds poured through the open window, carried on an arid breeze. He paused when the curtains rustled and the soap-clean scent of Emma teased him to lift the fabric, inhale her fragrance and wish for things best forgotten.
Dillon lay on a cot, staring at the ceiling. “You’ll wear tracks in the floor.”
“I have a lot on my mind.” He stepped away from temptation.
“I don’t supposed this ‘a lot’ has blonde curls and a temper?” He sat upright. “She could have at least been born with red hair.” He scowled. “A warning label would be appreciated.”
“She wasn’t feeling well.” The excuse came easy. It was one he’d made often after finding out about Emma’s caffeine addiction the hard way. Seeing her doubled over and gagging on her bedroom floor brought his first night in the earthen colony rushing back in perfect detail.
His bittersweet homecoming had served as a wakeup call when he snuck from Clayton and Maddie’s guestroom to find Emma and made a chilling discovery. He’d found her, all right, crawling on her hands and knees on the floor of her diner. Shattered coffeepots had driven glass into her palms. Mud-brown sludge had smeared her mouth, her chin. Her eyes had gone glassy.
He’d seen enough courtesans crazed with their drug of choice not to recognize her symptoms. She’d purged her stomach across his lap, then curled up against his chest and slept as if she hadn’t closed her eyes in all the time he’d been gone. Other memories drifted into his conscience, but he choked them, stuffed them back into the hellish box where they belonged.
On good days, he nursed a five-year gap in his memory. He craved the fuzzy edges of his recollection. It was how he kept his anger with Emma in check. The urge to throttle her for being so reckless simmered below his skin. He could have lost her. Regret churned. He’d lost her anyway.
“I’m heading out.” This oasis Emma had carved out of the city’s heart boasted a small garden. It wasn’t much, but even two extra steps in either direction would help ground him.
“Okay.” Dillon stood. “Let’s go.”
Harper’s skull ached, shoulders burning where his wings were hidden. “I’d rather go alone.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’ll be in the garden.” He shrugged. “I need to stretch my wings for a while.”
“You get a half hour. After that, I’m coming for you.” Dillon folded his arms across his chest. “You’re a target in this city. Remember it’s not just the mine and the colony at risk. It’s you too. You control distribution. Nobles won’t like that. Raiders already don’t like it.”
He was right. “I know.” Harper opened the door, then slid through it, careful not to wake boarders in the adjoining rooms. He’d counted seven males and one female at dinner. Emma had a full house and expected a mated pair’s return. He spotted her bedroom turned office and picked up his pace. Too late, her fresh scent teased his nose. Four long strides later, he reached the back door, shoved through it and inhaled deeply of the night. Spice from the nearby markets stung his nose. The familiar smell and sounds of horses carried. Over everything, he all but tasted Emma.
“Definitely Hell.” He shivered as his glamour dropped. His wings flexed, stretching kinks from long-denied freedom. Rolling his neck, muscles loosed and bones popped.
“I don’t know.” Emma’s laughter carried on the breeze. “I kind of like it here.”
He spun around and found her sitting on a low chair beside the door with bone needles in hand, a basket of wool at her ankle, knit
ting. The better part of a throw covered her legs as she worked at the topmost corner. Tightness gripped his skin, stretching his wings out of shape.
“Have a seat.” She gestured toward the seat against the opposite wall with her chin.
“No.” He tried to turn away, but couldn’t. “I came out for a walk.”
She glanced at her hands. “Suit yourself.” Her needles resumed clacking.
