I really should be writing...: Nimue's Price

30 March 2007

Nimue's Price - due for release 22 May

Nimue entered Camelot with her order plain. Seduce Merlin.

And here's a snippet in honour of the cover *grin*

Excerpt

All right. She would start again. Morgan had given her time.

Her gaze dropped, fixing on the strong column of his throat. She focused on the strip of black leather slipping beneath his tunic. Nimue had seen the crested ring that hung from it. He had held it up to a flickering candle, the black, carved stone blazing, and told her of his father. The ring was his only connection to that long-dead man. She calmed her nerves. “Will…will you be my teacher?”

“Nimue.”

Her name was almost a growl. She ignored the delicious shiver running over her skin. Morgan had warned her about this. He will weave his magic around you, Nimue. Wrap darkness around your heart. Resist that. And you can destroy him. She let out a slow breath. “Who else can show me, Merlin? It’s taken you years.” Her eyes lifted and she ran slow fingers over the sharp plane of his jaw. He flinched. “I’m…I’m scared.”

Something flickered in the dark depths of his eyes. And was gone. Merlin backed away. “It’s the King’s decision.”

“Then we go now.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. His mouth opened. Then shut. “Yes.”

He stared over her long, creased dress. She followed his gaze and saw the stains of blood and fluid. “I have to change. I’m sure the King wouldn’t approve.” A smile twisted her mouth. “And the Queen would be horrified.”

Merlin’s mouth flattened. “If the King decides I am to be your mentor, then your irreverence stops, Nimue.”

She couldn’t help herself. “So I have till then?”

“You know that’s not—” Merlin bit back more words and turned to the solid wooden door. “Let’s go.”

He shot back four heavy bolts and tugged at the wrought-iron ring. The door groaned. Nimue stared back to the raised circle that had burned her with agonising light. She hadn’t told him a lie. She was scared. Voices had whispered in that searing light, whispered of the distant future, the forgotten past. One voice told her power could be hers. It would be hers.

All of it.

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