Title: Sirona: Gods of the Highlands Series Book 2
Author: Bambi Lynn
Release Date: July 21, 2015
Author: Bambi Lynn
Release Date: July 21, 2015
Synopsis
Sirona Cleary tries to hide her unholy healing powers from everyone around her, denying her divine heritage even as she saves those who would see her punished. When she is kidnapped by a rival clan, she is sure her execution is near. Rhain Comyn is dying from a mysterious disease, and he couldn't be happier about it. After the atrocities he has committed, Rhain believes he has no right to a decent life and welcomes the ailment that leaves him with unquenchable thirst and hunger, extreme fatigue, blurred vision and ultimately drives him into a deep slumber from which no healer can awaken him. Can a witch from the clan of his enemy save him?
Excerpt
Alone
with her patient, Sirona relaxed a little. She crept closer to the
bed and leaned over him. Rhain Comyn was by far the handsomest man
she had ever seen. Long, thick lashes, dark as soot, laid against
cheekbones made more prominent by whatever ailed him. She wondered if
behind that facade, softened in slumber, was a cruel bully, equally
revolting as his brothers.
Without
remorse she realized that if Fergus were lying there instead of
Rhain, she would not hesitate to let him die. She was already damned
to Hell, was she not? Everything about her existence went against
God. Saint Peter would never allow such an abomination past the gate.
She tried to deny the powers that marked her a pagan, in the hopes He
would not punish her for her tainted blood. But in the end, she could
no more ignore her gift than she could refuse breathing.
What
if she defied God and saved this man, only to discover he was the
spawn of another sort, evil and deviant, and she had unleashed him on
the world? Was it worth the risk for the promise that she would be
returned to her home? Could she trust that promise?
Sirona
eased down on the bed. She took one of his gaunt hands in both of
hers. Warmth spread through her at the touch. Her heart clenched at
the possibility she could not save him. She closed her eyes and let
her thoughts fall away, focusing all her energy on the sensation of
his skin against hers.
His
hand was limp in hers, cold and frail. She sensed his longing for
death, born of a sorrow so deep it seeped into his bones. Tears
clogged her throat as she was overcome with profound despair.
What
had happened to him to cause such anguish and torment, such
hopelessness? She tried to recall what little she knew of the clan.
The Munro had been feuding with them for generations, but it wasn’t
until the laird, Gregor Munro, had been killed, that the hatred and
fighting had escalated. Now there were skirmishes every few months.
Comyn
men were renowned for their ruthless brutality. Legend stated they
came out of the womb filled with bloodlust and savagery. Comyn women
seldom survived childbirth. The laird’s own sons had been born to
three different wives.
Despite
the frailty of their women, the boys grew strong and healthy,
populating the clan with a merciless fighting force. Their only
weakness was their small number.
Rhain,
the youngest of the laird’s sons, was rumored to be the most
ruthless of them all. He had hired himself out as a mercenary, it was
said because there weren’t enough Munros to quench his thirst for
blood.
Sirona
shuddered and opened her eyes. Her heart tripped when she found him
staring at the rafters over the bed. She dropped his hand as if it
burned and shot to her feet. She took several deep breaths as she
watched him. When he did not move, indeed he did not even blink, she
inched closer. “Can you hear me?” she whispered.
No
reaction.
She
pressed the backs of her fingers against his cheek. No fever. With
one finger beneath his chin, she gently turned his face toward her
until she was in his line of vision. She stared into rich brown eyes,
windows to a deep, dark abyss that promised endless suffering.
“Rhain?”
His
eyes focused on hers when she whispered his name.
“I’m
here to help. Can ye speak to me?” His eyes wavered back and forth
between hers. “D’ye want something to drink?” She surveyed the
room for the first time. Near the hearth stood a table, laden with
food and drink. She crossed to it and poured a cup of water from a
flagon.
Returning
to the bed, she sat next to him and slid her free arm beneath his
shoulders. With her help, he sat up enough to the drink from the cup
she held for him. When he’d drained it, he fell back, what little
strength he had depleted from the exertion.
Sirona
cradled him against her. She brushed silky locks from his face and
spoke to him in a soothing voice. “I need you to tell me what you
feel. Do ye ache?” He was weak, but did not seem to be in any pain.
She cast relief over him just the same. “Can ye speak to me?” she
asked again.
He
seemed to be trying to say something, but his voice was so faint, she
had to lean close to hear him. His breath was warm on her ear, but
sent a cold shiver down her spine.
“Let-me-die.”
Gods of The Highland Series
Camulus: Book 1
Màili has been given the task of rooting out the spawn of an ancient god. It’s the only way to take her revenge against the man who betrayed her. But getting what she wants means taking the life of the man she loves. Will her hunger for a mortal man wreak further havoc on her already bleak future?
Yes, Bambi is my real name.
I grew up on a farm in South Georgia. My high school was very small with a graduating class of less than 100 people. Shortly after high school, I met my wonderful husband who took me to Belgium, where a three-year tour turned into fifteen. While living in Europe, I nurtured my love of all things medieval. I often get homesick for Belgium, but with the world wide web, I'm home with the click of a mouse. I now live with my husband and son in North Alabama.
When not plugging away at my keyboard, I teach World History. I love to ride my big, black Tennessee Walker, Jamaica. My husband and I each have a Harley to go with our collection of classic cars and hot rods.
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