Devinmar: God of Litha (Sons of Herne, #5) by J. Rose Allister

Author:J. Rose Allister
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy erotic romance, sex with pagan gods, erotic pagan sex ritual, romance with pagan god, litha midsummer romance fiction, selkie shapeshifter erotica
Publisher: J. Rose Allister
Published: 2016-07-10T04:00:00+00:00

Read on for a look at the next tale... Feillor: God of Lammas:

ABOUT FEILLOR: GOD OF LAMMAS

Trapped in the last place he ever wanted to be...he will find the only thing he ever wanted.

It is the time of Lammas, and Feillor, god of the sabbat, is reaping the first harvest when a woman appears out of nowhere right in front of his scythe. She is naked, stunningly beautiful, and just as startled as he is...but she is a human, and he has no time to waste on the likes of her kind.

Salina is a pagan witch who is not above calling on Herne, the horned god, for help in saving the forest being threatened by a greedy developer. She finds herself in a field with Herne’s son, a god with unbelievably sexy muscles but no regard for humans—and she has to get back home before the land movers arrive to destroy the beauty of nature.

The Fates agree to return Salina on one condition: Feillor must accompany her to earth and remain for three days, until the time of the sabbat. He begrudgingly agrees, unprepared for his growing lust for the witch who will use the old ways along with the new to protect the land Feillor believed humans had long forgotten. When the threat comes right to her door, he will find himself embroiled in protecting Salina—and her cause—from those who would either try to harm her or win her for themselves.

EXCERPT FROM FEILLOR: GOD OF LAMMAS:

Salina risked a glance upward, finding the man staring down at her with the scythe hoisted casually over his shoulder. Blessed be, he was so...male. A god among men, true. Every enticing inch was sculpted and bronzed, much like the statues of gods immortalized in classic Roman-Greco fashion. He wasn’t much more clothed than she was, wearing only some kind of suede cloth around his hips and ankle boots to match. Cuffs of hammered gold clung to his forearms. All other muscles were on display, every one of them a taut, bulging testament to his gender. His long, brown hair was pulled back, save for a few wayward strands that blew across his carved features. His eyes penetrated her with an intensity that stopped the breath in her lungs, very masculine but far from human. As was the rack of horns on his head that had given away his identity the moment she saw him.

“Didn’t you bring me here because you heard my prayer?” she asked.

A touch of derision fired his gaze. “I certainly did not.” He paused. “Whom do you believe you were praying to?”

“To you. You’re Herne the hunter, god of the forest.”

He arched his already raised brow. “You are mistaken, but only by generation. I am Feillor, god of the harvest. Herne is my father.”

“Your father?” She blinked. “Then I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

“I think I do. And I am not amused by it,” he added, raising his head and calling out overhead.

She glanced upward, seeing nothing but an impossibly colored golden blue sky.

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