Here is an excerpt from Artemais - his
book is Titled *Scent of Passion*
Sophie lifted her head from
the steering wheel, picked up her satchel, heavy due to all
the books crammed in it, and her two bags of groceries. She
locked the car and headed towards the elevator.
Pushing the call button, she tapped her foot, impatiently waiting
for the car to arrive. Usually she climbed the three flights
of stairs to her apartment for the exercise, but today she simply
couldn’t be bothered. With the strain of her day and the
heavy satchel of books and groceries, Sophie forgave herself
the soft treatment.
As the elevator took off, her stomach rolled uneasily. Thinking
she should have missed that second serving of Ben and Jerry’s,
she hoped she wasn’t coming down with a bug.
As the elevator lurched, arriving at her floor, Sophie realized
her stomach was having a serious turf war over something. Stepping
gingerly out of the car, wondering what the hell was going on
in her stomach, she realized with a startling clarity that she
was going to be sick all over the hallway.
Running flat out to her door, she stuck the keys into the lock
and rushed inside. Dropping her satchel and groceries carelessly
onto chairs and tables, she ran into the bathroom, and just
barely made it to the toilet.
A minute later, she sat weakly onto the floor, removed her shoes
and contemplated the wisdom of standing back up again.
Who ever heard of afternoon sickness? Sophie smiled wryly.
“Here,” a deep, recognizably sexy voice drawled.
“This might make you feel a bit better.”
Even as her brain recognized and registered Artemais’
sexy voice, she shrieked and jumped up onto her feet. Feeling
instantly dizzy and worrying that she was going to lose whatever
was left in her stomach, Sophie teetered for a moment before
a big, warm hand clasped her around the arm, steadying her.
“Wipe your face, Sophie. Are you sure you don’t
need to…er…go again?”
Face flaming in embarrassment, Sophie took the wet washcloth
from Artemais’ other hand and buried her face into its
cool depths. Taking a deep, soothing breath to gather her nerves,
Sophie lifted her head again.
“What the hell are you doing in my apartment? And how
did you find me? And why now?”
When Artemais merely smiled that devastatingly sexy smile of
his, Sophie groaned and put her face back into the washcloth.
“You left the door open in your rush to enter the apartment.
It took me a while to track you down, but I finally found you
from another guy in the bar. I’ve been searching for a
while.”
Which was true, Artemais consoled himself—he’d been
searching for her since his eighteenth birthday. It mightn’t
be exactly what she would assume his words to mean, but they
were truthful nevertheless.
Sophie took careful, deep breaths, inhaling the fresh, warm
scent of her washcloth. Today certainly wasn’t turning
out how she had anticipated.
She had mentally rehearsed how she would tell him about her
pregnancy a number of times throughout the day. Yet she always
managed to push it back out of her mind.
Before she could manage to arrange her thoughts, he solved the
problem himself. Gesturing vaguely out into the hallway where
she had dumped her bag and groceries, with a casual ease she
envied, he commented, “That’s an interesting book
collection Sophie. There something you want to tell me?”
Uncertainty and panic entered her brain. Her body, still shaking
from the rather brutal expunging of her ice cream, left her
gaping like a fish out of water. Feeling her stomach roil, whether
in fear or sickness she couldn’t tell, she turned back
to the toilet, retching miserably.
A pair of strong, well-remembered hands held her gently, and
began to wipe her forehead soothingly as she emptied the last
of her stomach’s contents down the toilet.
Yeah, one hell of a day, her brain remarked.
Artemais held Sophie very gently, half-afraid she would break.
He had never been attached to a pregnant woman before, he wondered
if morning sickness was usually so severe. Or afternoon sickness
for that matter, he silently laughed. As Sophie finally quieted
down, he helped her stand, and led her to the basin to wash
her face and brush her teeth.
Holding her so close, he couldn’t help but be drowned
in her scent. That light, flowery, slightly mossy scent that
now would always indicate freedom and passion to him. Her scent
drove him wild, made him hard and nearly brought him to his
knees. Her scent would always make him feel and remember their
burning passion.
Desperately trying to focus his thoughts, he reminded himself
that his woman was sick and feeling weak. Jumping her bones
and wallowing in her scent was not a good idea. Worry slowly
crept into his brain. Was it safe for a pregnant woman to be
sick like this?
“Uh, Sophie, are you sure you don’t have a tummy
bug? Should I pack you off to a doctor or something?”
Barely even looking at him, she shook her head and continued
cleaning her teeth. She didn’t appear worried, but Artemais
was concerned now. When she finished rinsing her mouth, he pressed
her.
“You sure?”
Sophie sighed.
“Look, I was just fine till I got into that elevator,
it’s always been pretty jerky and unstable, it simply
upset my stomach. That’s all, I’m just fine.”
Artemais looked closely at her, she looked so pale, so weak.
Her short curly blond hair shone, but her face seemed pale,
her gray eyes were a little wary.
“Maybe just to be sure…” he started, but Sophie
exploded, cutting him off.
“Look macho man, I was just fine until you and your…bunch
of Howlers turned up at that damned bar. Now, thanks to you,
I have no job and get to look forwards to three to six months
of afternoon sickness. I’ve been looking after myself
for a number of years and will probably manage to scrape through
a pregnancy just fine. Please don’t let the door slam
you on your way out.”
Artemais grinned. He loved a feisty woman and much preferred
this Sophie to the pale and washed out one he had been speaking
to a moment earlier.
As Sophie pushed her way past him out of the bathroom, he watched
her sweet ass sway. Even angry as she was, he felt his gaze
heat up as she bent down to pick up the spilled satchel of books,
giving him a perfect view of that rounded ass he had loved so
much that one night.
He couldn’t wait for her to settle down into his house.
She was certainly feisty enough to fit in with his rowdy brothers.
They all lived together for the most part in the main house,
but with separate entrances and lots of room, there was more
than enough privacy when needed.
As she picked up her satchel and glared at him, commenting,
“Well?” He couldn’t help the grin from spreading
on his face. She had obviously realized he was staring at her
ass.
“Well, what?” he countered. “You have no job,
I have a big house. Why don’t you come with me while we
work out what you want to do?”
Artemais blinked at the shocked expression on her face. Not
the most tactful of invitations, his brain mocked. Maybe Dominic
was right, maybe he did need his brothers here to help smooth
the way a little. They were across the street, probably pacing
in the park.
“Are you out of your mind? I have known you for less than
forty-eight hours. I have a decent amount in my savings account,
I’m sure I’ll manage. I don’t need to be a
kept woman, thanks all the same.”
Artemais winced, Damn, where are those brothers when I need
them?
“I didn’t mean to suggest…look, I just want
a part of raising my son. Surely you can’t begrudge me
that?”
And in the meanwhile I can woo you and keep you close, his brain
interjected.
Sophie raised an eyebrow mockingly, almost as if she heard the
ending his brain tagged on. Instead, she surprised him yet again,
picking out the smallest of his comments.
“Son? Who said this child would be a boy. It could just
as easily be a girl, you know.”
Artemais shrugged. He knew it would be a boy; all the children
in his lineage were boys, so would this one be, but there was
no reason to shatter her illusions.
“Sure, but I’m warning you, all the children on
my side of the family tree have been boys for generations. But
that’s beside the point. I want you to come live with
me, so we can talk about the future. If you’re determined
to stay here I can crash on the couch or something.” Artemais
indicated to his backpack.
“No way am I simply moving in with you. You could be an
axe murderer for all I know.”
Artemais grinned a big, toothy grin. He wasn’t an axe
murderer, but he could tell they both still had surprises in
store for each other.
“I’m not an axe murderer. You saw no bloodied axe
in my apartment, did you?”
Artemais enjoyed the blush that spread across her face at his
reference to their night of passion.
“Well, no…”
Artemais cut in on her blushing, stammering response.
“And we already have a little boy growing inside you.
I think that lends us a certain level of trust, don’t
you?”
Sophie glared at him, refusing to back down.
“I’m not letting you carry me off, he-man style.”
Artemais watched her looking around the small apartment rooms,
and he crossed his hands over his chest, letting his body language
show he wouldn’t leave without a fight.
He felt his worry lighten as she sighed and stared back up at
the implacable expression on his face. He grinned at the grudging,
decidedly unfeminine way she gave in, totally without grace.
“ I guess you can crash here for a night or two while
we talk over matters. I suppose there are some things we need
to discuss, like Lamaze classes, names for the baby, and living
arrangements. But one wrong move from you buddy and you can
go back to your own apartment and we can meet in restaurants
to chat. Agreed?”
Artemais looked at the firm set of her mouth and jaw. Much as
he wanted to lean forward and caress and kiss the stubborn tilt,
he knew when to quit his pushing.
“Deal. But if I start to cross the line, you’re
to warn me. This is a two-way street here, I’ll try and
be accommodating, but I have the feeling we’re going to
butt heads on certain issues, so no letting me cross the line
then tossing me out without a fair warning, okay?”
He felt a thousand times better as Sophie’s face lit up
with a grin. At least they had reached a point where they were
both happy, if only for different reasons. Sophie casually bent
over and started picking up her satchel of books.
“Deal. Can you cook?”
Artemais smiled.
“Sure can. But can I introduce you to my brothers first?
They’re across the road and simply dying to meet you.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes and paused in her gathering of the
books. She looked him over slowly, and he wondered what it was
she was searching for.
“I don’t mind taking a brief walk over to the park.
Then we can come back here and you can cook us up some dinner.
As I’m sure you would have noticed, I’ve been shopping
and am exhausted.” She nodded over to the grocery bags
lying discarded on the coffee table. “Sound okay?”
Artemais swallowed. He certainly hadn’t gotten everything
he wanted—but this wasn’t a perfect world. Sophie
was prepared to let him stay with her, so he had a shot at convincing
her he wanted the whole deal, her, their baby, and a life together,
always.
He nodded his head in compliance.
“Sure thing. I can put away what you have as well. Between
those groceries and anything I can scavenge around your cupboards
when we get back, I’m sure I can whip us up something
light for dinner. I don’t want to make anything too heavy
that will make you feel any sicker.”
Sophie looked at him once more with that strange look in her
eyes. He wished he could tell what she was thinking.
“Artemais, are you sure you want to do this? I swear I’ll
keep you in the loop with everything. You really don’t
need to—“
Artemais angrily cut her short.
“Yes, Sophie. I do need to do this. I’m sorry it
took so long to get in touch with you. It’s a bit complicated.
Look, I want to be here, I want to be a part of your life. Of
our baby’s life. I want to be here—or I’d
have merely called you or left a message somewhere. Let’s
go meet my brothers before we start our first argument, hmm?”
Sophie searched his face again, obviously noting his determination.
Picking up her coat from where she dropped it on the floor in
her haste to get to the bathroom, she grabbed her keys and headed
towards the door.
Praying for strength and help, Artemais followed the woman he
was determined to make his mate, shutting the door firmly behind
them.
Here is Chapter 1 from Artemais
- his book is Titled *Scent of Passion*
Sophie looked down at the innocuous
blue line and for the first time in her twenty-seven years of
life felt frozen with shock. After staring numbly at the line
for a moment, she snapped back to reality and reached for the
box. Checking that the strip in her hand really did match the
picture on the back of the box, she swallowed and tried not to
panic.
Damn, blue really does mean positive.
Fearing the whole situation was some sort of cosmic joke, with
shaking hands, Sophie hastily used the second test from the box.
If these damn things didn’t make mistakes there’s
no way they’d give out two in a packet, right? Must be something
faulty with that test, she silently assured herself, as she calmed
down.
Blue again. Well, hell. Twice in a row. I wonder if I need another
packet? There’s just gotta be a chance this box was screwed
up in the factory.
Sophie wondered at the odds of this pregnancy. Almost six weeks
ago, on the winter solstice, she had thrown caution to the wind.
Leaving all the papers and files she had brought home to read
and review, she left her work behind in her little one-bedroom
apartment. She had dressed herself up and, determined to give
herself a much needed break, had gone down to the local bar and
partied all night.
After a few glasses of wine, followed by a vodka—or two—she
could feel the beat and pulse of the music sing through her veins.
There was a live band playing and the drum seemed to call to her,
beckon her almost. The deep, steady beat pulsed through her like
another heartbeat calling out to her own. Silently admitting to
being slightly tipsy, she had leapt up onto the stage and started
dancing around the band of edible looking men.
Not being a consummate partier, she wasn’t surprised she
didn’t recognize the band. After being so wrapped up in
her work for the last few years, she had lost touch with the local
bands, trying to make it big. The more she drank and danced, the
more she mourned the lost wild woman that dwelled, deeply hidden,
somewhere inside her.
The Howlers were four drop-dead gorgeous men, all buffed up with
varying lengths of dark brown hair and sexy bedroom blue eyes.
Even in her slightly tipsy—or more-than-slightly tipsy—mood
Sophie had felt an electric and instant attraction for the drummer.
The singer was tall and lanky, with a voice that could easily
woo and cajole each and every woman in the bar to do indescribable
acts. The sax player looked to be the youngest of the brood, and
had been winking at a number of the younger girls screaming out
for him on the edges of the packed dance floor. The bass guitarist
had the longest hair, falling in waves halfway down his back,
and even though she hadn’t seen him grin like the other
two, he was still a damn fine specimen of sexy male, a make-your-panties-wet
fantasy man.
But there just seemed to be something about the drummer that caught
and held her attention.
Usually she felt attracted to the powerful business-man-in-a-suit
style; but this drummer was every woman’s secret fantasy.
The dark and dangerous bad boy.
The drummer had the shortest hair of the lot, being cropped fairly
close to his head, but something about the way he held himself
back; his almost, but not quite under control demeanour, told
her he was the one in charge of the small and surprisingly good
band.
Dressed in a suit he could have walked into any boardroom and
easily commanded the attention of every person present from the
top manager to the lowliest secretary.
He had a presence. Power appeared to simply cling to his large
frame and ooze out of his pores.
Sophie had danced until the very early hours of the morning when
the band had finally finished up. When the drummer offered to
buy her a drink, then led her off to a dark corner of the now
packed bar, she hadn’t resisted in the slightest. It had
been a short jump from there to following the sexy man home.
Sophie knew her inner wild woman was awakening. The sexy voice
and intense way this man made her feel was more than enough reason
for her to follow him back to his apartment. Promising herself
this one night of passion and indescribable sex, Sophie felt no
reservations at all.
Even though she hadn’t been drunk by the time they had arrived
at his small apartment--within walking distance from the busy
bar--she had still been on a buzz from the alcohol, adrenaline
from all the dancing, and pure excitement. It had been ages since
a man had made her feel so excited. Her last lover had left her
more than four months ago, stating he simply couldn’t be
with someone who could only organize her social life around work
and what currently resided in the “today” section,
under Personal Appointment Calendar on her PDA
Sophie had tried to explain that her diary and Calendar helped
her organize everything simply so that she wouldn’t forget
an important event, but Steven hadn’t been listening or
interested by then. Sophie knew her greatest fault was that she
tended to forget anything not written into her schedule or tattooed
on her forehead.
Yet she doubted she would ever forget the drummer.
Artemais.
Even now, she smiled as she recalled their conversation on the
slow walk back to his apartment. When he had initially introduced
himself, she had wondered briefly if it was a stage name, to make
him sound more exotic.
Yet when she had asked for his real name he had smiled wryly and
explained that Artemais was his real name.
She had laughed, and demanded his explanation of such an unusual
name. With a laugh and a sexy glimmer in his eye, he had pronounced
his name very slowly, Art-eh-MAY-is. When she repeated it after
him like a dutiful child, he had laughed, taken her hand and continued
their walk.
He explained back when he had been born, the family name of Artemis—the
God of the Moon—was supposed to be bestowed on him. Yet
in the two days previous to his birth, no less than three other
mothers had provided their children with the then-popular name.
According to his grandfather, his parents had been undaunted by
the sudden popularity of their chosen first-born’s name
and had spent the remaining forty-eight hours and then the full
eight hours of labor “discussing” alternate names
to their originally chosen one.
Extremely surprised to find such a fairly normal explanation to
such an unusual name, she had asked him to finish the story. Even
in her sobering-up state, she knew her curiosity had gotten the
better of her, but there was also the way she felt captivated
by the soothing cadence of his voice. She knew she could happily
sit and listen to him talk to her forever.
Artemais chuckled and snapped her attention back to their conversation.
Sophie felt slightly silly at her naïve, romantic thoughts.
Artemais continued, explaining that as his head had crested his
mother’s womb, she had screamed and declared “Artemais”
was close enough, and damned if she would have an unnamed firstborn
while they continued to try and compromise.
Entranced by the birth of his firstborn and new son, Artemais’
father had capitulated and the matter was over.
Thus, he had been named.
Sophie laughed and declared though his name was truly exotic,
it did seem to suit such a gorgeous man who drummed so well. As
they continued their leisurely walk, Sophie learnt that the other
men in the band were his following brothers, and she smiled thinking
about the resemblance between the men.
Artemais certainly to her was the most delicious of them, but
one could never account for personal tastes. Not that it mattered—none
of the four sexy men had lacked for willing women throwing themselves
at them that night.
Spending the next six hours having mind-blowing sex with Artemais
had Sophie nearly incoherent with lust and satisfaction. All thoughts
of work and her lonely state of life had abated in the sheer force
of their lusts and sheer volume of mutual orgasms.
Sophie performed acts she had only fantasized about previously,
truly letting out her inner wild woman in every sense and wallowing
in the pleasure and gratification that came from their acts.
Sophie, grateful she had woken up first the following morning,
mentally debated for five minutes what to do.
Morning-afters and relationship questions were not her forte.
Yet she felt kind of sneaky simply dressing and casually leaving.
She dithered, very unlike her usual self, about whether to raise
the question of his sexual health. The last time before she had
collapsed into sleep, overcome with lust and passion in that moment,
she had completely forgotten to place a condom on Artemais.
As she used the pill, it seemed easy enough to squash her pregnancy
worries. Surely one night didn’t matter?
A few days later, Sophie noticed she had missed a day’s
pill. Again she brushed the thoughts aside—the chances of
her getting pregnant were still slim to none. She would be fine.
When her period hadn’t arrived on time, she hadn’t
been too worried. Off the pill, she had been the most irregular
woman alive. Pre-pill as a teenager, anything from three to eleven
weeks had been common to her barely pubescent body. But it was
now nearly nine weeks since her last period and she was fretting.
Now here she was, with only one sexual encounter in nearly six
months, two positive pregnancy tests and one skipped period. She
was probably six weeks pregnant to a man she had only met once,
and had dreamed about almost nightly since.
You dreamed of the sex, she reminded herself, not the man.
Sophie felt her legs wobble when she thought of the erotic, almost
pornographic dreams she entertained in her mind nightly since
her time with Artemais. It felt as if her dream body sought him
out and seduced him over and over—or maybe his dream self
sought her out for seduction.
Either way, every single night over the last six weeks she had
entertained fantasies so explicit, so erotic, she became wet merely
thinking of them. She couldn’t even tell if half the positions
they used were physically possible, so intricate and complex they
were.
More worrying still were the tender aftermaths of these encounters.
Artemais would hold her, cuddle her, stroke her short curly locks
and murmur sweet nothings into her ear, telling her she was the
only one for him. Worse, was the way she would tenderly stroke
his chest, his shoulders, cup his face and respond to these soft
words of love, giving him her love in return.
Soon enough their small caresses and soothing, soft love words
would turn steamy again, and their lusts would take over, but
Sophie had come to crave her dreams for the soft, post-coital
words of affection as much as the mind-blowing good sex.
Sophie tried not to think guiltily about the fact she now avoided
the district of the small bar like the plague, even driving out
of her way to avoid it. She didn’t want to come across Artemais
again and humiliate herself by drooling—or worse—casting
herself at his feet and begging for another night of the better-than-fantastic
sex they shared. She had finally managed to convince herself he
didn’t think of her at all, even if she dreamt of him nightly.
Just thinking about the dreams, even now, worried as she was,
made her wet. Artemais—his dark blue eyes gleaming in the
soft moonlight, his tanned chest beckoning to her hands and her
mouth.
Her dreams had filled some secretly yearning spot inside her that
she had never known lay empty. And now there appeared to be a
baby.
Sophie felt her legs weaken again, and she sat on the rim of her
tub.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want a baby. She hadn’t
planned on having one, and certainly not from a one-night stand,
but now that she was pregnant there was no question about keeping
it, and raising it happily and healthily. Her problems centered
on her lack of relationship with the father.
What is the protocol here? she wondered. Did she contact Artemais?
Would he expect it from her? Surely he deserved to be informed
of her situation? She didn’t need, nor want money from him,
yet it seemed incredibly unfair not to inform him he would soon
be a daddy. She didn’t care if he didn’t want anything
to do with their baby, yet neither did she really want to raise
a baby by herself.
Deciding to shelve her problems until the following morning, Sophie
showered and got herself ready for bed. Making a mental note to
book a doctor’s appointment for a blood test the following
morning, she quickly fell asleep.
Strangely, for the first night since the Solstice, her dreams
that night were not the lusty, erotic dreams she was now used
to. They were…strange. She seemed to be winding deeper and
deeper into some sort of silky trap, a trap made of midnight blue
and forest green.
The smell of damp earth and pale, silvery moonlight cast shadows
over trees and outdoorsy kinds of places. A tiny baby with deep
blue, achingly familiar bedroom eyes, and her own blonde curls
lay wrapped in pure white linen, cradled protectively in her arms.
Gazing in awe at her little baby, Sophie realized with that instinctive
knowledge that only came to her in dreams, that her little baby
was a girl—and she was perfect.
Cradling the warm infant tenderly in her arms, Sophie looked around
her. They were in a large forest, the dark brown earth damp and
soft beneath her feet. The midnight blue sky illuminated by stars
overhead. Giant, dark green, thick trees surrounded them, giving
the whole scene an earthy, slightly surreal feeling.
The forest was a dark, dark green, that lush, inviting color only
very old trees could give. The mixture of dark brown, dark green
and midnight blue created a canvas around Sophie and her little
baby girl.
She felt excited and safe, not fearful in the least, even though
she had no idea where she was. For a moment, stupid as it later
felt, she was certain Artemais was around somewhere close, watching
her and their baby.
In the distance, wolves howled. Neither she, nor her perfect little
girl was scared or worried.
|
~
Home ~ Biography ~ Books ~
Coming Soon ~ Links
~ Email Me ~ 
~ 
