I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a sucker for warrior. You know they guy. He couldn’t sweet-talk or romance himself out of tight spot, but he’s the one you want on your side when danger’s around. I love him because he’s hard, proud and it takes him a long time to figure out that there’s more than lust going on when he sets his eyes on “the one.” Tetrik from Warlord’s Destiny is just such a warrior. When he falls, he falls hard. It’s a lovely thing to watch. 😉
“…In Delilah Devlin’s WARLORD’S DESTINY, a strong man is brought to his knees by an equally strong woman. Interesting, attractive personalities make this read especially powerful.”
Nominee for Best Paranormal Erotic Novel of 2005 by Romantic Times BookClub Magazine!
TOP PICK! 4 1/2 Stars, Page Traynor, RT BOOKreviews
“Watching these two grow is both amusing and touching… I found Warlord’s Destiny to be a very well-written novel, and ultimately a very entertaining story to read.” Book Review Network
Promised in marriage for a decade, Mora has no illusions she is anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands her union with one of their own. No great beauty, she resigns herself to a loveless marriage with a man who will only do his duty by her. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, Mora feels an immediate stirring of lust. She decides in that moment to win his heart—she’ll settle for nothing less!
Lord Tetrik finds his bride more than the scrawny handful he had expected. She has hips to breed him strong, sturdy sons, and intelligence that is a gift worth more than a pretty face. When he suspects his wife harbors tender feelings for him, he wonders if he can be the husband she desires. After all, love for a woman is a frivolous thing—and not a Warlord’s Destiny.
So, that’s what Kronaki warriors look like!
Every story ever whispered about the fearsome warriors came rushing back to set Mora’s body trembling. How they fought like ravaging beasts, cutting bloody swaths through Graktilian mercenaries during the war. How they lived in rough stone fortresses made of blocks carved from their frozen mountains. How they fostered their children to rival clans so they would be raised without gentleness.
How they fucked with such fury their women’s screams echoed throughout their valleys.
Mora felt a tremor rumble beneath the polished, marble floor of the great hall, so explosive was the swell of conversation that arose at the warriors’ arrival.
They were seven, dressed in furs and leather, armed with bows slung across their shoulders and scabbards at their sides.
She couldn’t drag her gaze from the man at the head of their formation, striding toward her—her husband in name, if not yet by deed. Although she had never seen him before this day, she knew it must be him, for he looked the fiercest, the strongest—only one such as he would be chosen to rule from amongst their ranks.
He was from a race of barbarians, seemingly as proud of their reputation for brutal warfare as their orgiastic sexuality. The latter Mora could well believe for the man stalking her now looked every inch a sensual marauder.
A shiver of awe bit the base of her spine and trembled upward until the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood erect.
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