Blurb
When a woman atoning for past sins heals the human avatar of an ancient god, sheâs drawn into a perilous dance of destiny and desire.
From the first, Dr. Elena Navarro senses that the wounded man she discovers outside the gate of her rural clinic is not an ordinary mortal. With his chest ripped open, Jorge PĂ©likal still demonstrates unnatural strength and power. Elena is irresistibly attracted to Jorge, although he warns her their coupling could open the gates of chaos and cost her life. Despite his dire predictions, they fall in love. Gradually Elena comes to understand that Jorge is a supernatural player in a cosmic drama that will determine the fate of the earth and of mankindâand that even if he triumphs in his apocalyptic struggle with his nemesis, she may lose him forever.
Note: Serpentâs Kiss was previously published by Totally Entwined. This new edition has been re-edited, revised and expanded.
Reader Advisory: This book may not be appropriate for individuals with a fear of snakes.
Buy Links
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*****
Excerpt:
âDoctora!â The voice rose out of the darknessâthe voice of the man who had vanished that morning from a sealed room, leaving no trace but a brilliant, multi-colored feather. As if conjured by her thoughts, Jorge PĂ©likal emerged from the shadows. He waited at the foot of the steps, mutely requesting her permission to ascend.
He looked far healthier than when she had seen him last. His step was firm and strong, with no indication that he was in pain. His hair cascaded over his shoulders, gleaming in the light of the rising moon. She could not see his faceâhe was still too distantâbut she could smell him. Vanilla and wood-smokeâthe same scents that were evoked by the mysterious token she had found under the bed.
He was dressed in rough-woven trousers and a peasantâs cotton tunic, all in white. His skin, in contrast, was a deep cocoa-brown.
Elenaâs heart rose into her throat. He was beautiful. He was dangerousâshe sensed thisânot because of what he might do, but because of who he was. But who exactly was he?
âJorge! Why did you run away?â She gestured for him to join her on the porch. In an instant, he stood in front of her, a half-smile on his full lips.
He grasped her hands. His skin was cool now, and moist like the jungle night. His fever is gone, she thought gratefully. Joy bubbled up in her chest. She almost laughed. She had thought that she would never see him again.
âI had no choice. I was in grave danger. And by remaining in your clinic, I was placing you in danger.â
âMoving when your chest has been ripped open and is held together by nothing more than a few feeble stitches wasnât exactly the safest thing to do,â she scolded. âBut Iâm happy to see that youâre so much better.â
âMuch better, thanks to youâŠElena.â He squeezed her hands. Desire raced through her, sharp, irrational, irresistible. âIâm sorry that I had to return and place you at risk once again. But I left something behind. Something important.â
âI know. I have it, hidden safely away.â
He searched her face, apparently trying to determine how much she knew about the feather. âGive it to me, then, and Iâll leave you in peace.â
âNo.â
âWhat?â
âNoâI donât want you to go. Iâll give you the feather, but only if you promise to spend the night with me.â Listening to herself, Elena was appalled. What was she saying?
She had not planned this. She was keeping the feather for him and had honestly intended to return it. But now she wanted him, with a single-mindedness that drove out all reason. She would do anything to satisfy this uncharacteristic craving. She could not let him escape again.
He cupped her cheek in one of his strong brown hands. Elena nearly swooned.
âYou donât know what youâre asking. Itâs not possible.â
âI know what I want. What I need. And I wonât return the feather until you give it to me.â
He removed his hand, leaving her mourning for his touch. âI could force you.â Though his voice was soft, his words rang with power.
âGo ahead and try.â Elenaâs words were defiant, but there were tears in her eyes.
âYou donât understand what you ask. If we couple, you and I, we will open the gates of chaos.â He hovered close, leaning over her, gazing into her eyes. His scent made her dizzy.
âI donât care. So be it.â
âNo. I dare not, Señora.â Taking a step backward, he glanced around the porch, as if seeking a way to push past her and enter the clinic. She moved to block the door, legs apart and hands on her hips.
Perplexity marked his handsome features. She didnât doubt he was strong enough to physically overpower her, but he seemed reluctant to do so.
âPlease.â Now his voice held a note of supplication. âBe reasonable, Elena.â
âDonât you want me?â
âWhat I want does not matter. I must do my duty and refuse you. The tasks before me will be difficult enough without the distraction of love.â
Love? That wasnât what she was asking for, was it? The desire that raged through her seemed as far from love as a fierce hurricane from a gentle spring shower. At the same time, her intuition told her that a single night in Jorgeâs arms would never be enough.
*****
About Lisabet
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance â over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genreâparanormal, scifi, mĂ©nage, BDSM, LGBTQ, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Youâll find information and excerpts from all Lisabetâs books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. Sheâs also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh