Angel’s Guilty Pleasures

 

Warrior Lord

The Drift Lords Series

Book 3

Nancy J. Cohen

 

Genre: Paranormal SciFi/Fantasy Romance

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Date of Publication: August 1, 2014

ISBN: 978-1-62830-446-6

Number of pages:  422

Word Count: 102,340

Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor

 

 

 

Book Description

A fantasy wedding in Las Vegas turns into a nightmare when contest winner Erika Sherwood realizes she’s married an alien.

Pottery sculptor Erika Sherwood has no idea her televised wedding in Las Vegas is for real until an official confirms she and the stranger she’s just met are legitimately wed.

A Drift Lord and warrior of the Tsuran, Magnor tricks the redhead into marriage because she’s one of six women prophesied to save Earth. But as he’s forced into her company in their race against the apocalypse, he wonders if he risks his heart more than his life.

Can a free-spirited ceramic artist and a fierce swordsman trust each other enough to prevent disaster?

Goodreads add to TBR: Warrior Lord

Buy Link(s)

Wild Rose Publishing

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 Excerpt

Where else but Las Vegas could a bearded man wearing a cape and sword swagger inside a casino without drawing attention?

Erika Sherwood stared at the man who peered around, a bewildered look on his face until his gaze slammed into hers.

Her heart slowed, as though the world had frozen in that moment. Despite the bells ringing and people chattering and roulette wheels spinning, her awareness narrowed. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from his searing glance.

Her pulse jumped when the man strode purposefully in her direction, his cape flapping behind him. With his powerful physique and resolute jawline, he looked like a superhero come to life. She supposed he’d bought that fabulous costume at a store along the Strip.

He claimed the empty seat beside her, exchanged a few words with the blackjack dealer, and set out a pile of chips. Tension charged the air around him. Her sideways glance absorbed his longish black hair and trim beard and the wide breadth of his shoulders. She pulled her skirt down, aware it had hiked up indecently, but his gaze didn’t go there. Instead, his dark eyes fixated on her wristwatch.

“Miss?” The dealer’s questioning glance fell on her.

“Oh. Hit me, please.” She grimaced at the eight of spades she’d drawn. Drat, now she was over the limit.

“Not having any luck?” The newcomer nodded at her diminishing pile of chips. “Maybe this isn’t your game.”

“Excuse me, mister…?”

“My name is Magnor.” He quirked an eyebrow when the waitress came by with another round of free drinks.

Erika lifted her third Viking Volcano from the tray. Who could resist? The fruity drinks were on the house, a popular ploy to keep gamblers in their casino.

She raised her glass in a friendly gesture before taking a sip. “Is Magnor your first name or your last name?”

“It’s my only name.” His mouth curved as he watched her reaction.

“O-kay.” She wasn’t in the mood to challenge him. Those drinks had already gone to her head, making her happy to accept his remark along with his blatant stare. Probably half the people in Vegas used false names anyway.

“Do you work here?” she asked, realizing his outfit matched the resort’s Nordic theme.

He stiffened. “I should say not. I am a guest, like you.”

“Sorry to have asked, but you fit the part.”

“It is my customary attire as a warrior of the Tsuran.”

“I see,” she said in a noncommittal tone. Maybe he was an actor deep into his role. He could be taking a break from a movie set. Were they filming a sequel to Thor in the area?

“Nice timepiece you’re wearing.” He nodded at the object of his scrutiny.

Erika slid her hand under the table. “It was a gift.”

Her parents had given her the watch for her sixteenth birthday with the caveat that she ask no questions about its unusual properties. It ran with no visible mechanism and no battery and had a peculiar symbol engraved on its face.

Her forehead wrinkled. Why had Magnor chosen to comment on her watch when most men would offer a line about her flaming red hair or her flashy clothes?

Come on, Erika, why do you care what he thinks? You came here for the art show, remember, and not to meet men?

It must be the alcohol causing that low buzzing sound in her ears and not his imposing presence.

“This announcement is for all of our engaged couples out there,” blared a loudspeaker voice. “It’s the last call if you want to enter our exciting contest. The lucky winners will be married on live television, after which they’ll receive a complimentary stay in our honeymoon suite, fifty thousand dollars, and a new car. Entries are being accepted in the Green Room all day Friday until four o’clock.”

“Fifty thousand dollars,” Erika muttered. “Man, could I use that money!”

Magnor nudged her, a grin on his face. “Why don’t we enter the contest together?”

The smile transformed his features, making her want to study the craggy lines and furrows that made his visage so interesting.

“What?” she said when his words finally registered.

“I need a room, and the hotel is full. If we win, that will solve my problem. You can keep the car and the cash.”

“B-But the winners have to get married. On live television.”

He waved a hand. “Oh, that. Las Vegas is all about fantasy, is it not?”

Her eyes widened. “You mean, the wedding will be filmed like a reality show, but it isn’t real?”

He winked at her. “All of the contestants get bonus credits on their club cards. What have we got to lose?”

Erika stared at her diminished pile of chips. She’d lost two hundred dollars in less than an hour. She scooped the remaining credits into her purse while considering the man’s outrageous suggestion.

In her earlier days, she’d have accepted his proposal without a second thought. Back then nothing had mattered except her plants, her pottery, and her own pleasure.

Eventually, she’d erected an armor of self-discipline around herself so she could accomplish her goals. However, this resolve had evaporated under the influence of the drinks and the man’s piercing gaze. Who wouldn’t want a hunk like him as her fake fiancé?

Ignoring the warning bells in her mind, she scraped back her chair.

“I accept your offer,” she told him with bravado. “If we lose, at least we’ll be ahead by several credits. And it might be fun.”

“We should seal the deal if we are to play an engaged couple,” Magnor said, closing the distance between them.

His head descended before she could protest, and his lips met hers.

 

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Nancy J. Cohen writes the humorous Bad Hair Day mystery series featuring hairdresser Marla Shore. Several of these titles have made the Independent Mystery Booksellers Association bestseller list. Nancy is also the author of Writing the Cozy Mystery, a valuable instructional guide for writers on how to write a winning whodunit. Her imaginative romances have proven popular with fans as well. Her titles in this genre have won the HOLT Medallion and Best Book in Romantic SciFi/Fantasy at The Romance Reviews. A featured speaker at conferences, libraries, and community events, Nancy is listed in Contemporary Authors, Poets & Writers, and Who’s Who in U.S. Writers, Editors, & Poets.

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