This week, we're welcoming author Marie Laval, whose novel THE LION'S EMBRACE is set in North Africa. Join us on Sunday, when the author will offer a free copy of the book to a lucky blog visitor. Here's the blurb:
Arrogant, selfish and dangerous, Lucas
Saintclair is everything Harriet Montague dislikes in a man. He is also the
best guide in the whole of the Barbary
States Algeria Sahara .
Secrets of lost treasures, rebel fighters, and a sinister criminal brotherhood
threaten her life and the life of the man she loves.
Does forever lie in the lion’s embrace?
** An Excerpt from The
Lion’s Embrace**
It was a narrow valley where
the river curved into a bend, secluded by thick bushes and reeds. After a quick
glance around to make sure she was alone, she stripped and walked naked into
the water. It was so cold it took her breath away. She gritted her teeth,
clutched her bar of soap, and walked into the river until the water reached her
hips. Getting rid of the grime and sweat of the past few days was worth the
torture…
Holding her breath, she dipped
into the water before standing and lathering soap over her body and her hair.
The light was changing. A transparent
gold dust touched the hillside, the top of the trees. The sunrise streaked the
sky with red, orange, and pink hues, reflecting into the river. She was alone
in the world, in a bubble hovering between sky and water.
It was then she heard the growling.
Stones tumbled down the hillside seconds before a male lion jumped onto the
river bank, sleek and agile. It approached the river and started drinking. It
hadn’t seen her. Yet.
Her heart thumping with terror,
she ducked under the water very slowly, careful not to make any ripples on the
surface. How long would she have to hold her breath? How long did it take a
lion to quench its thirst after a night spent hunting? What if it saw her and
came after her? Did lions, like cats, hate water? Her lungs started to burn,
she felt close to choking. When she couldn’t hold on any longer, she popped her
head above the water and took a long, long breath.
The lion had gone.
“You are one lucky woman,” a
voice called from the bank.
Still breathless, she spun
round. Saintclair crouched near the water, a knife in one hand, a pistol in the
other.
“How l-long have you be-been
here?” she stuttered, her teeth chattering from cold and shock.
“Long enough.”
Had he watched her undress and
get into the water? Actually, she’d rather not know.
She moved her legs and arms,
numb and stiff with cold.
“Is it safe? Has the lion
gone?” She looked toward the hillside.
“You’re safe. From the lion,
that is.” He narrowed his eyes. “I, on the other hand, might just want to
throttle you for disregarding my orders. I knew taking you with us was a
mistake. I knew you were stubborn. I didn’t realize just how reckless, how
stupid you were. You could have been mauled to death just then.”
“I handled the lion perfectly
well on my own.” She tilted her chin. Her heart had almost stopped with fright,
but there was no reason to tell him.
He stood up, put his pistol in
the holster on his hip, slid the knife in his boot, and walked toward the edge
of the water. His face was so tense, his eyes so steely, that she recoiled. He
was going to walk into the river, pull her out and…
“Damn it, woman, you were told
not to leave the camp alone. You were warned about lions roaming this area.
There are all sorts of dangers here—wild animals, snakes, scorpions.” He looked
up towards the hillside. “Raiders.”
She swallowed hard, followed
his gaze toward the top of the hills.
He shook his head.
“If that lion hadn’t been so
old and half-blind, you wouldn’t be talking to me now.”
“It seemed pretty sprightly to
me,” she muttered.
He snorted.
“Get out. You’re freezing, and
your lips are blue,” he said without a trace of sympathy in his voice.
She shivered, nodded. “Only if
you turn round.”
“It’s a bit late to play the
prude,” he muttered, but he obliged and faced the other way.
So he had seen her naked. Well,
he wouldn’t see her now. She covered her chest with her arms and walked to the
shore. She threw a nervous glance in his direction before stepping out of the
water, but he remained immobile, his back to her, as if he had been turned into
rock.
She gathered her clothes as
fast as she could, stumbling on pebbles in her haste, and chose a large bush
behind which to get dressed.
Her fingers were too cold, too
stiff to fasten her tunic’s tiny buttons. She had to leave it open for now. She
put her boots on and ventured out of the bushes. Saintclair took one look at
her and snarled.
“You can’t go back to camp half
dressed.”
She pulled her tunic across her
chest to cover up, shifted uncomfortably on her feet.
“I can’t do the buttons up,” she
said, showing him her hands still red raw with cold.
He tightened his lips but
didn’t answer.
The sun now peeped above the
rugged hilltop, a huge orange ball setting the sky on fire. Dazzled, Harriet
caught her breath.
“This is…magnificent. We don’t
have sunrises like that in England
He gazed at her face, at her
eyes filled with wonder.
“No but you have rain, summer
storms.”
He stepped closer and looked
down into her eyes. “I always wanted to stand outside in a thunderstorm.” Her
eyes were a rain cloud right now, cool and soothing.
She smiled. “You might get hit
by lightning.”
“Maybe, but what a beautiful
way to die,” he said. His breathing was a little faster, his gaze heavier.
She parted her lips but didn’t
answer. The colour of her cheeks deepened. In the opening of her tunic, the
gold pendant gleamed against her milky white skin. His fingers itched to toy
with it and bring it to his lips, still hot and fragrant from her body.
The Lion's Embrace is available from
