Woo freakin' hoo! Ward posted these excerpts on her Facebook Page over the last few days. It's like counting down to Christmas!
Seventeenth Century, Old Country...
“Long live the King.”
At the sound of the deep, grave voice, Wrath, son of Wrath, had an instinct to look around for his father . . . a spark of hope that the death had not occurred and the great ruler was as yet still with them.
But of course, his beloved sire remained gone unto the Fade.
How long would this sad searching last? he wondered. It was such
useless folly, especially as the sacred vestments of the vampire King were upon himself, the bejeweled sashes and silken coat and ceremonial daggers adorning his own body. His mind cared naught for such proof of his recent coronation, however . . . or mayhap it was his heart that remained unswayed by all that now defined him.
Dearest Virgin Scribe, without his father, he was so alone, even as
he was surrounded by people who served him.
Composing his visage, he turned around. Standing in the doorway
of the royal receiving chambers, his closest adviser was like a column of smoke, long and thin, draped in dark robes.
“My honor to greet you,” the male murmured, bending low. “Are
you ready to receive the female?”
“Shall we initiate the procession.”
-The King, pg. 1
"Godd***, female, don't look at me like that," Trez groaned.
He seemed to roll his hips, and when he mumbled something she also couldn't catch, she breathed deep- and dearest Virgin Scribe, the scent that poured out of him was nothing short of ambrosia in the nose.
"Selena, you gotta go, girl. Please..."
-The King, pg. 124-125
"Whate'er did you speak?" Xcor asked roughly.
As Layla repeated what she had uttered, her scent was infused with the sharp spice of fear: "You may have me."
-The King, pg. 376
"Well, I'm just heading upstairs. To go to bed. To have a shower, and go to bed." As Layla stared taking off her parka, her smile was about as genuine as Courtney Stodden's. "I'll see you at... well, later. I'll see you later. Bye. Bye for now!"
-The King 387
Trez stepped in tight, meeting the huge male grille-to-grille. "The rules are this- you do not hurt them. Rough sex is okay if it's consensual, but no permanent scars or marks. And you may not eat them. Those are my only two constraints, and they are not negotiable."
With Shadows, you always had to set limits. especially a Shadow like this one.
"Wait, are they yours?" the male asked.
"Oh, sh**, why didn't you just say." s'Ex put out his palm. "My vow. Nothing permanent and no lunch."
-The King, pg. 439