Cover Reveal - Seven Sacrifices by Maria Violante

Cover & Excerpt Reveal

Seven Sacrifices by Maria Violante
The De La Roca Chronicles Book Three
After a string of tricks and lies, De la Roca, Laufeyson, and Alsvior have no love or trust lost between them--but their escape from Hell and the Pentarchian Golden's grasp has stranded them on an off-world.

Stripped of their powers and plunged into danger from this land's native inhabitants, they are forced to rely on each other in their search for a mysterious Gray God that may or may not be their own creator.

In Hell, Golden's obsession with De la Roca is devolving into madness, a development that alarms Anann, his second in command--especially as she can sense that the warrior Macha seeks revenge for her dead lover, and that his instability might threaten her own bid for power--a power that other angels are hungry for.

It's a race against the clock that pits demon against angel in the thrilling conclusion to the De la Roca Chronicles.

Note: The De La Roca Chronicles are now available in a single book: De La Roca Omnibus Edition

Genre: Urban Fantasy
Release Date: June 13, 2013
Publisher: Airam Publications

Excerpt & More

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Excerpt:
For a moment, he wondered if he should alert the others. Then Damiena touched her fingertips to his, brushing them over the pads of his palm with a gentle caress, and the hidden knot of emotions that had been waiting in ambush sprang out in full bloom. A single thought took hold in his mind—he was here, following her, alone, because he was special. There was something here, something only he could do—something he had to do in order for everything to work properly.

Kissed by the moonlight, he could just make out her smile, her lips pulling back to reveal white teeth.

And Meune?

Damiena trailed the hand around his eyes down to his stomach. He gasped and grabbed at it, the resurgence of feelings long forgotten threatening to rise up and drown him.

For a moment, her image flickered, the hair lengthening and darkening, the face changing into the harsh, sensual features of the mercenary. They softened again into Cleopia’s impish expression, so alike and yet so different, and then her face was Damiena’s again.

Damiena—and only Damiena—closed the gap between them and touched her lips to his. He felt fire tear through his body, the fog in his mind thickening. He could feel the sharp difference in the timing of their breaths and then she kissed him again, harder, and their rhythm synchronized. A black void filled his consciousness, the forest fading away as he fell headlong into a well without end or bottom. Alarmed, his mind struggled for the world he had just left, but his thoughts crept out so slowly, their emotions pale compared to the fire that roared through him. The scents of horse and dream-smoke filled his nostrils.

“You don’t want to fight me.” It was and wasn’t Damiena’s voice. It stirred up ghosts in the shadows around him, the echoes triggering eddies that pushed leaves into small drifts. His awareness flicked on the piles of foliage and then the thought was gone, his reality melting into the dream that had come to life.

Here, too, desire consumed him. With an awkward shudder, he forced his tongue into her mouth, trying to jab it down her throat. He could feel the eagerness in her response, the way she drove her hands up behind his head and into his hair, even as her tongue fought with his.

“Yes,” she hissed, half-whisper, half-sigh. The weight of her hands on his shoulders was so heavy and full that he sank to his knees. The earth gave underneath him, and he knew that he was succumbing, and yet—somehow he was winning, losing and winning both, and the inferno that burned within him raged higher.

Her fingers tightened around the edges of his shirt, the same black shirt the Oracle had fashioned for him out of De la Roca’s jacket—the Oracle, remember the Oracle, remember the—and pulled, the muscles in her arms flexing as the fabric tore. He moaned, captivated, as she pulled her own shirt over her head. Moonlight spilled over the curve of her breasts.

It was too much for him. He pushed his face between them, and the burn of his hunger reached its peak—

A note of something dark and cold quivered through his lust, pushing its way through to his awareness. After only a moment of contemplation, he realized what it was, this feeling both strange and familiar.

No.

But it was too late.

Already, his throat was changing, and his attempts at words came through in an amalgamation of human and animal noises.
~~~~~~
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Other titles by Maria Violante:

Hunting the Five	Honor in Hell

Wit Awakening	Gambler's Luck	Wit Transforming

Find Maria Violante at:
www.mariaviolante.com
Twitter: @violanteauthor
Maria Violante Facebook page
Maria Violante Goodreads page
Maria Violante Amazon author page

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