The Writer and the Warrior
Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : Courtney Breazile
Word Count :10886
Publication Date :2013-05-12
Series : Cafe Nowhere#0
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-77111-556-8
An erotic author lost in the middle of Central America finds the passion she has always written about with a being she didn’t know existed.
When erotic romance author, Mariah finds herself lost in the middle of the jungle she has many concerns, however, vampires, werewolves and one sexy eagle-man warrior are none of them. When she discovers the existence of all three in a single terrifying night, it still doesn’t shock her as much as the passion she finds in the winged embrace of Dakota. What will a mating with an immortal creature mean for a human?
No, that wasn’t fair, it wasn’t all Paul. It had been a succession of worthless guys all her life that had made her what she was. However, Paul could definitely be the one to take full responsibility for breaking her out of it. As she had sat there on her knees, tears falling down her face watching him walk out the door, throwing over his shoulder, insult after insult, she had felt something inside her, break. She had finally taken off the blinders and saw what Paul and every other man had seen.
They didn’t think she was worth loving because she didn’t think she was worth loving. She had devoted every minute of every relationship to her man’s needs, praying they would not leave her, that they would find her worthy. For a while they liked it, but soon, they saw what a shell of a person she was and took advantage. When they saw she was so easily taken advantage of, they became disgusted with her and eventually left her because she had made herself unlovable.
“Not—any—more!” Mariah said pounding her fist against the dashboard. She would not be that girl anymore. She would demand equality in her next relationship. She would take as good as she gave or she would walk away. She would not be walked all over by a pigheaded man ever again.
That was the promise she had made to herself the night Paul had left. Since then, she had been unable to think of romance the same way. Every time she started to write, her heroine ended up way too dominatrix to be in a sweet romance.
So here she was, trucking along, waiting for her world to right itself so she could write. So far, inspiration had been as elusive as the town she was supposed to be heading toward. Mariah leaned forward and checked the surroundings. Yep, nothing but jungle. That damn old woman she had asked directions from in the last village must be laughing her ass off at this point, knowing she had sent the stupid white woman out into the middle of nowhere.
Mariah refused to admit defeat and turn around just yet. She had plenty of gas in the back of her truck so she could safely keep driving for another day and not see anything. Food though, that would be a problem. She was down to a couple power bars and a bottle of water. She would starve long before she would have to worry about running out of gas.
* * * *
Dakota kept his distance from the impossibly loud truck. He didn’t want the woman, Mariah—he had heard her introduce herself to others—to see him, but he just couldn’t let her continue unprotected. She was all alone and heading into dangerous territory. The last time he had spotted one of Xavier’s followers, it had been in this area.
What the hell was this woman thinking, coming out here? Was she hoping to join Xavier, or was she as unaware as she appeared to be?
Dakota had been watching her for days, trying to figure out what she was up to. She seemed to be just a tourist, but he couldn’t be sure. Now that she was headed straight for one of Xavier’s known haunts, Dakota wondered if she wasn’t more than she appeared.
The truck rumbled to a stop and Dakota swooped down to a treetop. He tucked his six foot wingspan comfortably behind himself and perched, watching to see if she would reveal anything new about herself.
Dakota knew if she looked up, she would see nothing out of the ordinary. She would see what he wanted her to see—a large eagle perched regally atop the tree. He hid his true form easily. In truth, he was a six-foot-tall winged warrior, a loincloth the only thing covering his golden brown skin. His inky black hair fell in two long braids down his back where his eagle wings rested against his body. His talons, razor sharp and deadly to his enemy or prey, were retracted at the moment, but could elongate from his fingers and toes instantly if he was threatened. He was an Aztec Eagle-Man Warrior, protector of the Aztec people. Well, he used to be their protector. He now protected nothing but a pile of stones. It had been a very uneventful few hundred years, until recently. First came Xavier and his vampire followers, then the werewolves trying to kill them. Now her. She was something, he just couldn’t figure out what yet.
Dakota had managed to stay out of the fighting as he didn’t have anything against either band of creatures, but it had been interesting to watch. Especially after he discovered his image trickery didn’t work on them and they could see what he really was. Although they had noticed him watching, none had ever approached him. Dakota wasn’t sure if they were wary of him, or if they saw him as no great threat. Dakota envied the werewolves who could pass for human when not angered into turning into their wolf forms. Even Xavier, the fallen angel, could hide his black wings and look semi-human.