The Nightmara Affair is now live!
In the kingdom of Calatini, an enchanted ballgown and a magical evening can change everything. After meeting King Devon at a masquerade, orphanage matron Kiera reluctantly agrees to a fake betrothal to negotiate with the nightmara herds. But their affair will soon end because a king can’t really marry a poor commoner… right? Features a strong heroine, determined hero, Cinderella romance, and magical horses!
Read a short excerpt below. 😉
The Nightmara Affair Excerpt
Kiera glided toward the refreshments table to sample the sparkling wine Wren had mentioned. ‘Twas the one thing her shy friend liked about court events, and she’d never have another chance to taste it after tonight. But then an eddy further in the crowd captured her eye.
The dark-haired gentleman had stopped and was watching her with the same peculiar intensity consuming her.
She stilled. He’d noticed her, after all. Her heart surged as he strode straight toward her. She should leave. His scrutiny would shatter her disguise. Yet all she could do was stare at him as he approached.
He soon halted before her, his gaze riveted on her face. Goddess, he was even more handsome up close. His hair was the rich color of dark shokolat truffles, and his eyes were green like the ocean moss sailors sometimes brought back to port. But the expression in his eyes was more entrancing than their shade. Ardent, yet still chivalrous.
Kiera drew a ragged breath, her pulse pounding in her ears. He’d not want her if he knew she was but a poor orphan of unknown parentage. She must flee before he learned the truth. She began to step back.
The dark-haired gentleman raised a beckoning hand and rumbled, “Wait.”
* * *
When the mysterious mermaid shook her head without a word, Devon stepped closer and offered his hand. Now that they’d met, he mustn’t allow her to flee. He must discover if she was the lady meant to be his queen. “Dance with me.”
Her navy eyes wide behind her shell mask, the mermaid stilled like a doe before a tygris, the massive feline who ruled the torrid grasslands in the Tsarkan Empire south of Calatini. “I’m afraid my steps are inexpert, my lord.”
He blinked at her, his hand still outstretched. Didn’t she recognize him? Although he’d not bothered with a crown since his coronation, everyone at court always recognized him as the king. Yet he didn’t know her either, so perhaps she was new to court. He’d find out when they danced. “Allow me to lead, and all shall be well.”