demon lover
Rumplestiltskin is not his name and this hunk’s no gnarled
old goblin.
Gwyneth’s father, the miller, brags about her beauty
and accomplishments in hopes of landing a wealthy husband who’ll
make them rich. But when he makes a vain claim to the king’s
steward, he endangers both their lives. Faced with the impossible
task of spinning a room full of straw into gold by morning,
Gwyneth despairs until a black-garbed figure appears and says
he can solve her problem for a price. One kiss.
For three nights the stakes escalate and Gwyneth’s attraction
to her mysterious visitor deepens. But when he claims the ultimate
price of her child, she realizes she’s made a deal with
the king of the underworld.
Gwyneth journeys to the land below and makes a new bargain
to free herself and her daughter. Can she drive her demon lover
over the edge of bliss in the allotted time and if she wins
the bet, will she even want to leave? For his part, can the
dark hero keep the woman and child he’s come to love and
will he ever entrust her with the power of his name?
Review
Sensual Reads, Emily, 5 stars
A beautiful twist to the classic tale of Rumpelstiltskin. Gwyneth
and the demon who helps her is written with such intensity it
pulls at your heart strings. Brilliant, I was unable to put
the book down and was unsure where the story was going which
was an unexpected surprise.
The Romance Studio, Theresa Joseph,
4 stars
This was a wonderful adult adaptation of a well-known fairytale.
I enjoyed the premise and the love scenes were smoking hot.
Our demon lover was so complex; one minute ruthless in his pursuit
and then so compassionate.
JERR, L. Yay, 4 stars
The pacing of the story was a steady one, and it made for a
smooth read, and the relationship between Gwyneth and Ragnorak
didn’t feel rushed. Sex in this story was actually written
quite sweetly, and was used to emphasize intimacy.
Love Romances, Victoria, 4 stars
This is a fast paced story that will have you scrolling the
pages to see what will happen next. Ragnorak is a drool-worthy
hero and Gwyneth is more than his match.
Excerpt
Curiously, Gwyneth felt no real fear, perhaps
because she was too stunned, perhaps because she’d already
sunk so low. Somewhere, she realized she should be very frightened,
that danger of kinds she couldn’t even imagine surrounded
the black hooded figure emerging from the smoke.
But mostly, she was aware of relief. “There is a way
out!” she exclaimed.
“There is always a way out,” her visitor answered.
His voice was deep, low, almost sepulchral, sending shivers
down her spine. “It is just a matter of finding it. And
being prepared to take it.”
He moved through the smoke and bent toward her, stretching
down his hand. It, too, was black, encased in a long gauntlet.
Dazed, Gwyneth took his fingers before she meant to and was
drawn to her feet. He smelled of rich earth and smoke. His hand
seemed to engulf hers, burning her skin even through the thickness
of his glove. And yet the effect was not unpleasant. Perhaps
because he’d given her hope.
She peered into the darkness of his cowl. Somewhere in its
depths, two eyes glittered, but she could make out nothing more.
He stood still and silent, not yet releasing her hand. She had
the feeling she was being assessed. Well, no one had ever complained
about her looks.
She drew in her breath. “I’ll take it,” she
said fervently. “If you would be so good as to show me
the way.”
He released her hand, turning his head to look around the straw-filled
room. “What exactly is your problem?” he inquired.
“I’m locked in. I can’t get out. And in the
morning, the king will execute me.”
The cowl returned to face her. “Does he think you’re
some kind of animal, to surround you with bales of straw?”
A breath of laughter escaped Gwyneth, just when she thought
she’d never laugh again. “Believe it or not, I’m
supposed to spin this straw into gold. If I can’t—and
obviously I can’t!—I am to die.”
“So you want a way out. And would do anything for life.”
“It will be a difficult life,” she acknowledged.
“I’ll have to run away, go into hiding with nothing,
perhaps try to escape to another country, but I’m a hard
worker and will soon pay my way.”
“A hard worker,” he repeated, and she thought he
was studying her borrowed dress and jewels. Once more, he reached
out and took her hand, turning up the rough palm and fingers.
Ashamed, she tugged it free. “You are a woman of contradictions.
Fortunately, you intrigue me.”
“Then you’ll show me the way out?” Gwyneth
said eagerly.
“I’ll show you a way out, if you wish it. But you
must be aware, there is always a price.”
I’d give anything…
She swallowed. “I’d give you this necklace, these
rings, but the jewelry isn’t mine. It belongs to the king.”
“I don’t want his jewels.”
“Then what will you take?”
The cowl moved. Two gleaming eyes held her gaze. She thought
she could see a flash of teeth, the movement of lips. “For
turning all this straw into gold that you might go free and
return to your life?”
Gwyneth’s mouth fell open. “You can’t do
that. No one can. It was just a silly, ill-conceived boast of
my father’s!”
“But if I could, would you want it?”
“Is that my only way out? To perpetuate the lie?”
“Can you think of another?”
“I could escape the way you came in.”
“Where I go, you would not wish to follow.”
“I’m tough,” she pointed out eagerly. “And
spry.”
He seemed to be considering her desire to go with him, then
suddenly shook his head. “I would not take you under these
circumstances. Besides, is the life of a fugitive so attractive?”
“No,” she admitted, longing with unexpected strength
to scrub some more wren droppings off her father’s porch.
She smiled a little tentatively. “The truth is, I doubt
your ability to spin straw into gold. I don’t see how
it can be done.”
“I’ll show you. For…” The whiteness
of teeth gleamed again. “For a kiss.”
She blinked. “A kiss?”
“A kiss.”
“But I don’t know you,” she blurted.
His breath came out in a rush. He might have been laughing.
“I suspect that by the time you’ve spun all this
straw into gold, you’ll imagine you know me well enough
to give me your lips for a few moments. Is it a huge price to
pay for your life?”
“N-no,” she admitted.
“Then what’s the matter? Haven’t you been
kissed before?”
“No,” she said again. “I slapped the last
boy who tried.”
“Well, you can slap me, too, if you want, but I will
insist on the kiss.”
Gwyneth became aware that the butterflies in her stomach were
far from unpleasant. She admitted to curiosity, about kisses
in general and this mysterious stranger’s in particular.
However, though she may have been innocent in practice, she
was far from naive in theory.
“Just a kiss?” she demanded.
The cowl moved, as if he was silently laughing at her again.
“I won’t ravish you, if that’s what you mean.
I ask for a kiss, and that is exactly what I will take. On your
lips,” he added, as though to quell any further doubts.
Gwyneth’s body began to flush. She’d never imagined
he meant anything else, but now that the idea was in her mind,
it ran riot. Kisses on her throat and shoulders, on her breasts,
which had begun to ache inexplicably.
“Well?” her visitor prompted.
She blinked to dispel the unwanted images in her mind, and
took a deep breath. “Yes, please,” she said.
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