Sir Marrok, the good knight that was betrayed with his wife, for she made him seven year a werewolf . . . Book XIX
In Mallory's tale, he is only stuck in wolf form for seven years, and when he is freed he gets revenge on his unfaithful wife. Now, despite this little bump in the road, he still has a place of honor at the round table and is part of the honor guard, but the king in my story is not quite so noble as King Arthur.
This story is a twist on Beauty and the Beast, but as you'll see as you read, our beast Marrok didn't do anything to deserve his punishment, which makes him want revenge even more. Of course, Josette is not what he expected at all, so his plans for revenge begin to falter and stray the moment she arrives......
For a spicy little excerpt, click here to read my post from yesterday. I'm going to post a PG-rated excerpt here and another more erotic one on Monday.
Buy links are down at the bottom. Hope you'll check it out, and if you do I hope you like it!
Blurb:
Josette’s father needs gold to fight his war, so she goes
from princess to prisoner in an instant when Lord Marrok offers the needed
treasure in exchange for her. Once her father’s most honorable knight, Marrok
is now shunned and feared. Why? Marrok is a werewolf. Josette goes to help her people,
and soon discovers that Marrok blames her father for his curse. He claims he
wasn’t looking for a bride, but his gaze screams seduction and she soon
questions his reasons for demanding her in exchange for the gold. What sort of
revenge does he have planned? And what will happen to her once he has her
locked away in his castle?
Excerpt:
Josette entered
the kitchen and found Marrok finishing his dinner. “I thought you would want me
to do that.”
“Did you? Can you
cook?”
She nodded.
“Rare talent for a
princess.”
“Not for a bored
and sheltered one. I was under the impression I was going to be slaving away in
this castle in one way or another.”
He pushed his
plate away and stood. “So you imagined yourself chained either to the stove or
to my bed, did you?” he asked as he moved toward her.
“My father was
vague. He said I owed it to him but that I should expect the worst. When I said
I would go willingly, he actually choked on his wine. He seemed pleased though
and dismissed me to pack without another word.”
He stood only an
inch away from her now. “And given the choice, which would you prefer?”
She looked up into
his eyes and tried to ignore the masculine scent of leather. She turned her
head and eyed the stove before stepping back and eyeing him as well. His gaze
never wavered from her face. “It’s a very nice stove.”
He roared with
laughter. “You must be a changeling. You have more wit and personality in one
strand of your hair than your parents had put together.”
“I’m my own
person. No one and nothing will ever change that.” She went to the table and
gathered his dishes. She walked them to the sink and began looking around at
the well-equipped kitchen.
“Not even your
present situation?”
She let her breath
out in a huff. “Are you determined to have me unhappy? What does it matter? My
father will never know! For all he knows I’m locked in the dungeon or on my
hands and knees scrubbing the floor in rags.”
He let his gaze
shift down her body. “I’d stay in the castle more often if you get the urge to
spend much time in that position.”
She turned away so
he wouldn’t see the flame of color on her cheeks. She told herself she was very
lucky he hadn’t forced himself on her. She shouldn’t be having such sexually
charged thoughts. A man like him would surely pick up on them and tease her all
the more. Or worse, tempt her to act on them.
“I really can
cook. I’ll cook every meal if you like. It’s the least I can do for the expense
I’ll be to you.”
“Money is of no
concern. You’ll learn that soon enough.” He moved to stand behind her, but he
didn’t force her to turn around. The heat from his body made her blush even
worse, and something about having him so close behind her sent a thrill up her spine.
“I eat at eight, one and six. I’ll unlock your door shortly after sunrise every
day.”
He walked toward
the door, but then he turned. “And leave food out for the cat starting
tomorrow. He prefers chicken twice a day. I kill one for him every morning.”
Despite the flush
still on her cheeks, she turned to him. “Cat? You’re a werewolf, but you own a
cat?”
“Why is that so
very odd?” he asked, though he didn’t stay to hear her answer.
