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Blurb:
On the world of Merab, women rule, while men wield the magic. For generations it was a system that worked, but the old adage is true: power often corrupts, and many of the women of Merab have begun to use their power for the good of themselves, not the good of the country.
Temair knew that one day she'd have to step up and take her place as Queen of Emetra; she just didn't expect for it to happen so soon! Now she finds herself on a Tour of the Queendom in search of her four Consorts –- the four men whose Elemental magic will awaken hers. In the process she's also found a troubled society where the men are tired of being abused and exploited.
Her First Consort, Fyre Lord Miach, is all warrior. Her Second Consort, Rayne Lord Dathan, is all play. Aire Lord Zevan was badly abused by the woman who should have protected him –- his own mother. Lady Aire didn't confine her power-play to her son, however, daring to attack Temair and her foster sister, Princess Nuriel, too.
So, for all concerned, their visit to Earth seems like an idyllic time of rest. The women are loving and nurturing, and the men are amiable and calm. But under the surface peace and joy, the rebellion is brewing as the men of Earth begin to realize that loving control is still control, and it's oppressive no matter how well intentioned. Add to that the return of a past foe, and a plan to end the reign of the Queendom forever, and end Temair's life in the process.
Excerpt:
The Queens of Merab: Temair's Earth
Violet Summers
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Violet Summers
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Temair curled, propped against the headboard of the giant bed in the chamber the Earth Mother had housed them in. Zevan, the newest and youngest of her Consorts, lay beside her, head snuggled in her lap, his customary look of wonder smoothed just slightly by his near sleep state. Dathan, her Rayne Consort, laid on her other side, one arm wrapped behind her, the other toying with Zevan's spiky hair. There was nothing sexual in his touch, not like if he'd been touching Miach.
No, Dathan -- and Miach, too, for that matter -- had adopted Zevan, treating him like a much cherished younger brother. And Zevan flourished under their attention. After a lifetime of abuse, twenty-one years deprived of any affection, her Aire Lord soaked up every kind word, every soft touch they sent his way. They were all happy to oblige him. Temair savored the sleek, cool silk of his skin, and spent as much time wrapped around him as possible. Dathan gifted the younger man with careless hugs, ruffled hair, and even the occasional kiss to the top of the head that were all the more meaningful because the Rayne Lord did it so absently.
Even Miach, who was by no stretch of the imagination cuddly, found subtle ways to care for Zevan. If Temair hadn't been hopelessly in love with her Fyre and Rayne Consorts already, their careful treatment of her wounded Aire Consort would have sealed the deal. Temair released a long sigh of contentment and Nuriel, her foster sister and fellow Princess, gave a low laugh from her nest on a chaise by the fyre.
"You are entirely too pleased with yourself, Temmie," the golden-blonde Princess commented softly. Even Nuriel, who was normally oblivious to the nuances of relationships, was reluctant to jar Zevan from his half-doze, to end the peaceful moment.
"Your turn will come, Ellie." The gruff tenor voice of her First Consort sent a curl of warmth through Temair's belly. He'd been gone since early morning, first practicing the Fyeria, the deadly beautiful dance-like martial art he excelled at, and then wandering the Earth Lands with Darmon, who was Miach's best friend and sparring partner, and the head of Temair's Royal Guard. Temair recognized the necessity of his absence, but that didn't make her miss him any less. She couldn't help but notice that Dathan's body seemed to relax further into the mattress, releasing an almost invisible tension, with Miach's return as well.
Nuriel wrinkled her nose at Miach and smiled adorably, though the smile didn't light up her eyes quite the way it had before they'd been attacked at the Aerie. "That's not reassuring, Lord Fyre," she murmured.
Miach passed a gentle hand over her hair, a gesture he'd never have even considered a month ago, and slid onto the bed. Temair suppressed a little smile when he carefully chose the side farthest from Dathan. Her poor Fyre Consort still wasn't exactly sure how to deal with the seductive, deceptively easy going Rayne Lord.
He hip-checked Zevan out of his way, crowding the younger man against Temair's side, and gathered as much of her into his arms as he could manage, considering how tangled up she was with her other Consorts.
"Things here are remarkably peaceful," he reported, directing his words to her, though they both knew Dathan and Zevan were listening just as intently. "The men seem to be cherished, even pampered."
Temair thought she detected a trace of disapproval in his voice.
"And everyone acts disgustingly cheerful." He shot a sardonic glance at Dathan, wisps of scarlet flame cutting the chaos-black of his eyes. "You should fit right in, Water Boy."
Dathan laughed at the implied insult and blew the Fyre Lord a kiss. Zevan choked back a snicker of his own, and Temair lay grinning like a fool, loving everything about her Consorts.
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