This Six Sentence Sunday (and happy birthday, SSS!) post is an excerpt from a little earlier than the one posted last week, though both are taken from chapter one of my second book, Blowing Embers, due out this summer.
Let me provide just a little background. In Fallen Embers, book one, Kiera, our heroine, battled power-mad mages (Alaks), murderous shapeshifting, Alaskan dogs (Shunakah), and won, and lost, and won her man. Laszlo. The slave captain of the ruling mage’s army. Things are precarious. War is imminent. But here, just for a moment, before the hell that she knows is coming, she basks in the love she shares with her shapeshifting, Alaskan bear.
The door opened again and she lifted her eyes to Laszlo’s, who would soon be lessoning the otuks* on some aspect of battle strategies. A smile started on his face when he caught her staring, startling a return grin from her, and as he held her eyes a softness filled her chest, wrapping her with the warmth that her feet still craved. God, she loved that man. And she knew – could see it every time he looked at her – that he loved her as much, and maybe more than she loved him, if such were possible. That his love was a blessing, a miracle, was an understatement. The love with which he gifted her had healed her heart and filled her world.
*otuk = an army squad leader, whose authority lies just below the captain’s.