The Scottish Selkie, a Celtic/Romance set in ninth century Scotland is a tale, which springs from Druid lore, of a mysterious, dark warrior, a fiery Pict Princess, and the shadowy secret standing between them. A bow and arrow carrying Pict beauty takes vengeance on a royal target but fails at her attempt to slay the Scot King, Kenneth McAlpin. To save her life, she is forced to wed the king's cousin, Malcolm. Just as the Scot warrior and the Pict Princess begin to forge a bond, Malcolm must reveal his incredible secret and choose between two worlds, one with Bethoc or one without.
coming as an audio book soon
Here is an audio excerpt of a love scene and the text of it below. http://snd.sc/1898Mzp
“To be yours. To share my bed with you.”
He didn't speak. His eyes grew wide and he took a deep breath. “Mayhaps you merely do not want to sleep alone this eve?”
“Sleep is not what I am thinking of.” Bethoc turned and bid Malcolm to follow.
Sounds of night birds and night bugs blended together into a gentle lull as she glided down the moonlit path. She sensed his heated gaze feasting on the subtle yet sensuous sway of her shoulder and hips.
“Bethoc,” Malcolm called in a ragged tone.
Turning, she gazed at him. They stood apart, but the raw hunger in his dark eyes told her all.
Bethoc parted her lips. Malcolm stepped up to her, reached out, and yanked her in his arms. She leaned her head to his. Bethoc's mouth melded with Malcolm's, a mergence of fire and water.
He squeezed her hand in his as they walked side by side to the rath. Bethoc released his hand and pulled the door open. Malcolm strode to the fire, lit a torch, and lighted candles posted around the room. The smell of burning wax filled the air.
She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his strong, solid shoulders. He leaned his head down to Bethoc's and crushed her mouth with his. “You taste like a honey comb stolen from a high tree. Wild and dripping with thick sweetness.”
Malcolm lifted her into his arms; she wrapped her long, lithe legs around his waist. Their slick lips pressed, rubbed, slid, and pushed fervently against each other. Malcolm rolled the back of her skirt up to her waist, exposing her bare bottom.
With her arms tangled about his shoulders and her long legs rolled around his waist, Malcolm carried her to the kitchen. Bethoc gasped as he set her bare ass on the hard wooden table.
She grabbed the honey pot beside her, and dipped two fingers in the sticky sweetness. She rubbed her fingers, dripping with thick golden honey, across Malcolm's mouth.
Sliding her sticky fingers back and forth, she spread the succulent honey all over his full, wet lips, which he licked with the tip of his tongue. Malcolm poked his finger in the small clay pot and stirred the honey in a circular motion. He stroked her lips with the thick sweetness then thrust his finger into her mouth. Clamping her lips down, Bethoc moaned, greedily sucking the golden treat.
Here’s a pinterest board of The Scottish Selkie. http://www.pinterest.com/corneliaamiri/the-scottish-selkie/