Today, I wanted to share with you the cover for my upcoming book due out in Fall 2015. Black Heart is the second book in the Black Warriors paranormal romance series.
Here is the draft blurb:
Cursed by an evil wizard to be scarred ugly during the day and a wanton sex addict at night, Rahma Bawa spends her life locked up in the palace hidden from sight, unwilling to make contact with men either during the day or night. When she is informed that she only has months to live, she swears she'd experience the one thing she’s yearned for in a long time.
Idris Mustafa is a man on the edge of darkness. The leader of the Black Warriors and plagued by a horrible family history, he knows he can never choose a life partner. To do so will be to sentence the woman to death. Yet, the beautiful Princess Rahma sees beyond his dark heart, and he can't resist her.
Events are conspiring against them. There are others who need Rahma to achieve ultimate power and will do whatever it takes to have her. Will history repeat itself or can Idris and Rahma carve out a new destiny together?
Here's the teaser:
(In this scene, Rahma and Idris have just met for the first time. This is still just a draft, so pardon any errors.)
“I asked who you were and what you are doing in the palace garden.” The girl shifted her stance, folding her arms under her chest.
She shouldn’t have done that. It drew his attention to the strain of her full breasts against the blouse, her stiff nipples imprinted against the cotton as if begging his attention.
Fighting back another groan, he lifted his gaze to her face. Much safer, although the spark of fire in her emerald eyes made him raise his brows in curiosity.
“I didn’t know the grounds were out of bounds," he replied in an amused tone.
“Only special guests and members of the household are allowed at this end. And I don’t know who you are.” The irritation in her voice did not hide their soft, husky tinge.
His smile widened, this time with genuine delight, because instead of annoying him, her voice sent a persistent pulse of excitement down his spine. He really wanted to push her and see how far she’d go.
“Neither do I know who you are?” He took a step in her direction. “I know the Emir and his daughters. But I’ve certainly never met you before. So perhaps you’re the intruder.”
“I certainly am not.” She straightened to her full height, her chin tilted up. “I am Rahma, first daughter to Adamu Dan Bawa, Emir of Jida.”
The way she announced herself nearly made him laugh but he quashed it, keeping his expression stern. Officially, her chaperone should have presented her to him. But since she was here on her own, there was no one to introduce them. He liked her logic.
Lifting his hand, he rubbed his chin, the less than day old stubble making a grating sound.
So this was the elusive Rahma, he’d heard about but had never met before now. Rumor had it that she stopped receiving guests about six months ago. He didn’t know why. Yet she was still unmarried although the way she was covered up, one would think otherwise. Was she betrothed? A husband could instruct the wife to cover up in public.
The way her eyes blazed defiantly at him, he wondered who the lucky man was who had tamed a girl with such sassiness. She certainly had more spunk that her sisters he’d met earlier on today in a brief introduction. At the time he’d been told Rahma was indisposed. Now he wondered what she’d been up to and why she’d hidden away.
“And you are out here on your own without a chaperone? I doubt the Emir allows that. I think you’re the intruder here. And I’m going to find out.”
He took another step forward, testing her tenacity. Would she stand up to a stranger when any other girl would have retreated?
This time wisdom prevailed. She took a step back although her eyes didn’t lose their blaze of defiance.
“You wouldn’t dare to touch me. My father will have your head if you do.”
“Perhaps,” he said and folded his arms across his chest. “But you don’t know who I am, yarinya. Out here, it is getting dark. I could do as I please and no one will come to your rescue.”
Surely she could see that with his bulk and her diminutive stature, he could easily overwhelm her and she wouldn’t have any defense from him.
“Don’t call me that,” she said in an irritable tone. “I’m not a child.”
“Oh but you are in so many ways. In your eyes I can see that you are still untouched by a man. It is only when a woman has felt the true touch of a man that she becomes a woman.”
In response she snorted and glared at him with enough heat to start a bush fire.
“And I suppose you’re the man to do the job. You’re offering your services, huh?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
For the first in weeks he laughed, with his hands on his hips and head tilted back. The darkness and strain that had been threatening to consume him lifted from his soul. He liked this girl, more than a little. He froze as his laughter faded at the thought.*****
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