Friday, 2 September 2011
Author Spotlight - Excerpt from Washed Under the Waves
I hope you've enjoyed Gloria's week on the blog. Gloria's giving away a copy of "Washed Under the Waves." All you have to do is read the excerpt and leave a comment for Gloria today, Sat, & Sun on the blog. On Monday, a name will be pulled out of a hat as the lucky winner. Be sure to leave your email addy so we can get in contact with you.
Athan grasped her elbow. "Come, Lady. I will escort you to your chamber."
How formal. How unlike the day they had shared. Tayte felt a quick sting of tears.
Alone with him in the hall, she gulped and asked before she lost her nerve. "I know everything is so mixed up that it must seem we’ll never be ready for the prince, and I cannot see how he would want me if he were here, anyway, but must you stay so distant and—"
Though he snapped the word softly it held enough force to clamp her jaws. Stupidly, more tears slipped onto her cheeks.
"Tayte ... Lady ... please."
His warm palm traveled from her elbow to her shoulder, across to the bare curve of her neck, and he stepped closer into her space.
His thumb delved into the hollow of her throat.
More tears crashed onto her cheeks. Why was she crying? Could he feel her confusion?
"Oh, Tayte." His hand slid higher, under her hair. His thumb caught her jaw and drew her face upward.
She stared into his sweet, angular features. She could feel his eyes, hidden in the darkness of the hall, scanning her face, searching.
With his other hand, he traced her eyebrow with the tips of his fingers. She could feel his tremors even though he barely brushed across her cheekbone. Quivers unsteadied her as well, and she swayed on her feet.
His hold at her neck tightened.
"Athan." She didn’t recognize her voice, soft, aching, needing him in ways she couldn’t put into words.
"Don’t, please." He cupped her cheeks in the warm curve of his fingers and lifted her onto her toes and into his chest.
Her palms connected and the heat beneath his soft velte shirt surged up her arms and into her heart. Wide-eyed, she stared up at his face now digiti from her own.
He swallowed hard.
She licked her lower lip.
His gaze dropped and his fingers flexed, digging into her skin.
She gathered the velte, seeking a touch of stability, drawing herself closer. "Make it all better, Athan." She hadn’t realized the cry of her heart until it hung in the air between them.
"I cannot." He released her abruptly and turned, nearly ramming his head into the wall of the hallway. "I cannot at this time, Princess."
Rejection stabbed through her. Then pain, brilliant and sapping. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor. Who were they kidding? She wasn’t a princess. There wasn’t one royal thing about her. She couldn’t protect her cousins. She couldn’t teach her island. And she couldn’t attract a tutor, let alone a prince.
The thought seared through her mind, and she gasped. Really? Had she just attempted to get Athan to kiss her? After the debacle with Crystal and Decus? After meeting the King!
Horrified, Tayte couldn’t catch her breath. She needed air, but she couldn’t find it, couldn’t draw it in. Drowning. She was drowning without water. Where was the King?
She struggled to find her medallion.