(Steamy Fantasy Romance)
by Lyndi Lamont
Kingdoms & Legends, Part 1
Imagine a world filled with magic, a tormented knight, a damsel in distress, an evil sorcerer…
While picking herbs in the woods, Princess Ilona is rescued from a woodsman by a wolf. When the creature licks her wounds, it is suddenly transformed into a man. A very handsome, very naked man who makes passionate love to her in a glade.
Cursed by an evil wizard, Rolf was trapped in wolf form until he tasted the blood of a royal. Now he must escort the princess on a hazardous journey back to the castle to stop an ill-fated wedding.
Passion flares between them, but both know there is no future for Ilona and her werewolf. Or is there? In a world where magic and passion combine, anything may be possible.
Blue Ribbon Rating: 4.5… “ILONA’S WOLF is a unique twist upon an old familiar fairytale. Ms. Lamont has woven a fine tale filled with warm characters, passion and action that will satisfy any mature reader.” – ladybirdrobi, Romance Junkies
“Ilona’s Wolf has to be one of the hottest werewolf ebooks I’ve ever read, and I love the way Lyndi Lamont blends steamy romance, fantasy and fairy tales. The hero, Rolf, is sexy but also loving. I recommend this story to anyone who likes werewolf romance.” – author Cassandra Curtis
Five Stars… “Witchcraft, sorcery and magic combine with elements of other legacy fairy tales in this delightful romance by Lyndi Lamont. Ilona’s wolf is nothing like the one in the French “Red Riding Hood” or Grimm’s “Red Riding Cap”; her danger comes from another source. Think Sleeping Beauty and The Frog Prince as to what releases Rolf from his wolf shape. He’s a passionate and hot, hot, hot hero. Loving, too. There’s plenty of steamy loving, action and adventure in a story that would make any lover of fairy tales happy.” – Jennyd35, Amazon.com
Ilona ran along the forest path, using her power to push away the branches barring her path. A foreboding sense of danger pervaded her senses, and she castigated herself for coming alone to gather herbs in the woods.
Footsteps pounded behind her, growing ever closer. Her heart raced, and she gasped for breath as she fought to keep fear at bay. Fear would diminish her powers.
The path suddenly ended at the edge of a raging stream. The waters rushed by, swollen from spring run-off. How deep was it? What was worse, facing her pursuer or risking her life in the water? She focused on a vine hanging from a tree on the opposite side of the stream and tried to nudge it toward her. If she could grab hold, it would swing her over the torrent.
The sound of pursuit increased, and she spun around to see a man standing at the edge of the trees. He was young and strong, but danger radiated from him, as did a rank odor. His leering expression sent a chill down her spine. She glanced around and saw a smaller path along the water’s edge and sidestepped toward it.
He jumped forward as she turned and ran for the path, but he grabbed her by her cloak.
She tugged at it, but he held on tight.
“Let me go.”
“What’s your hurry, pretty maid?”
She turned to face him. He was a woodsman to judge by the ax hanging from the belt at his waist.
The bulge in his breeches told her he meant no good. He towered over her, lust mixed with anger streaming from every pore.
“You gave me quite a chase, but you wasn’t fast enough, was you?”
She backed up, summoning all her powers. “Please, leave me alone. I’ve done naught to harm you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Think you be too good for me, do you? You with your fine red cloak.”
She eyed a hefty branch a few feet away, but tried, once more, to use reason. “Nay, I never said so. ‘Tis just that I know you not.”
“No matter.” He reached for her hair with a grubby hand, and she flinched away.
Desperate now she summoned the branch with her mind. It slammed into his arm, the one still clutching her cloak.
He yelped and grasped his injured arm. “Witch!”
She turned to run, but he grabbed her again and slammed her into a tree. She grunted as her head smashed into the trunk, her basket of herbs flying out of her hand.
Injured arm dangling, he backhanded her with his good hand. “That’ll teach you.”
Woozy, she slid to the ground and watched as he started to unlace his breeches, his movements awkward. Blood dripped from her split lip, and her head pounded from the impact with the tree. She tried to summon enough power to fling another branch at him, but it was hard to concentrate. Suddenly, she sensed danger from yet another source.
“Wolf!” she cried.
The woodsman stared down at her. “There be no wolves around here. Stop your stalling, girlie.”
“Yes,” she insisted. In her mind she saw the wolf racing through the forest, sensed its blood lust. She fought down the fear, knowing it weakened her. Gods, was she destined to be ravished and devoured on the same day?
Then she heard the creature approaching. It bounded out of the woods and stood, snarling, lifted its head and let out a blood-curdling howl. The woodsman took one look at the fierce creature and ran off down the path. The wolf chased after him, then wheeled and trotted back toward her.
Copyright 2008, 2013 by Lyndi Lamont. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED