Title: Forgotten Magic
Series: Crimson Cove
Author: Eden Butler
Publisher: City Owl Press
Genre: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Release Date: 28th June 2020
BLURB supplied by Xpresso Book Tours
Bane Illes
never smiled.
He never spoke.
But each day, that brooding wizard gave Janiver Benoit a
glance.
And when she could not take another quiet stare, or the warmth
that look sent over her skin, she took from Bane something he’d never give
freely—one lingering, soul knocking kiss.
Ten years later, someone has stolen the one thing that keeps
magic hidden from the mortals in Crimson Cove and only Janiver can recover it.
But returning to her hometown means she’ll have to face the past and all the
secrets she left buried there, including the one person she promised herself
she’d never see again. The dangerous wizard that might make leaving Crimson
Cove the last thing she wants to do.
PURCHASE LINKS
Kobo
★★★★★”Butler’s
tantalizing fantasy romance, originally self-published as Crimson Cove,
burns slow and hot…The magical elements are electric and the chemistry
between Bane and Janiver is delicious. Butler builds the tension slowly,
carefully pulling story threads to a satisfying but open-ended climax.
Readers will be eager to return to Crimson Cove.” – Publishers Weekly
★★★★★ “Eden is a masterful storyteller who takes mere words and turns them into magic.”
★★★★★ “I REALLY LOVED this fresh, innovative, and out of the box concept of a modern romance with a dark, ethereal twist.”
WHAT REVIEWERS ARE SAYING. . .
★★★★★ “Eden is a masterful storyteller who takes mere words and turns them into magic.”
★★★★★ “I REALLY LOVED this fresh, innovative, and out of the box concept of a modern romance with a dark, ethereal twist.”
EXCERPT
“Jani…” he
started, following me, coming to his knees despite his bad ankle, crawling so
close that I had nowhere to go. “You’ve been keeping something from me. I see
it. Even in the damn dark I can see it. It’s everywhere.” Bane moved his warm
fingers to my bottom lip and let his thumb glide across my cheekbone. “You
refuse to meet my eyes. You avoid me when I stare too long.”
“You always
stare too long.”
“I can’t help
that.”
He was massive,
a sweltering cloud that collected energy, that absorbed emotion so that it
became consuming—a vacuous funnel that craved the things it did not need but
took what it wanted. That was Bane. He took control, but for the life of me I
could not see past letting him take what had always been his.
“Tell me my
daydream was invented. That dream of being in the classroom with you.” There
was a challenge in his voice that reminded me of us as children, huddled and
scared, taunting and fearless. But I wouldn’t answer, couldn’t tell him
something that would hurry along his anger. It would be heavy enough when it
came.
“Jani,” he
said, coming so close that I could smell the sweat from his skin and hear the
tiny rasp that caught in his throat.
“You’ll hate
me.” It was as close to an explanation as I could offer.
Bane pressed
his hand against my cheek, the touch warm and soft but with that small red
current still working behind his skin, still flirting with me to cry out that
he was mine. “Never, little witch.”
Give and take.
He wanted, needed, but didn’t understand why. He didn’t remember, and at that
moment, I could not bring myself to remind him. It would hurt too much. But the
warmth in his hand, the sweet, honeysuckle scent from his skin weaving like a
spell of its own making, intoxicating me, lulling me closer and closer until
only Bane—the sound, feel, and smell of him—took up all the space in my head.
There was only this man. There was only this moment.
Both belonged
to me.
Our mouths came
close together, our breaths heated and dampened our faces, our lips—bringing us
to the blistering, bated breath before the race begins. A small incline, the
minutest stretch of my neck and that mouth, that tongue would belong to me. It
was different from the night he spelled me. There was no primeval encouragement
from the ley lines egging us on, inching us closer and closer toward our most
basic urges. This was more, and somehow with Bane’s face so close to mine, with
his fingers tugging on the back of my hair, I knew that one kiss would unhinge
me. It would change everything and there would be no stopping us.
“I…this…” My
words got stuck somewhere around the back of my throat, clung tight against the
hot breath that fanned out when Bane rested his forehead against mine, when he
moved his mouth to kiss between my eyebrows.
“This isn’t
normal, Jani. This…” He paused, shuddering when that pulsing red light shot
across his skin, hovering near his fingertips. “Someone spelled us.”
Blinking,
nodding, it was all I could manage. Bane was too strong, the heat in the room
too full, the air too thick. Yes, someone had been spelled—him. Someone had
done the spelling—me. But really I was a coward, scared of what he’d think,
say, damn well do if he found out I’d taken his memories from before. Even if
it was for the best, I’d still lied to him—the lie of omission. I’d blocked him
and kept for myself something I had no business hiding away.
But Bane seemed
content to ignore the past. He seemed mesmerized by the moment, fascinated by
the play of reddish light on our skin and that whip of succulent heat that
warmed us every time he moved his fingers across my collarbone. “I think I know
what this is, Jani, but it makes no sense. Nothing between us, then or now,
ever made sense to me.” And it wouldn’t, not to him, not with the understanding
I’d taken from him when I blocked his memories. He kept flirting closer to the
truth, skating the surface of what that light meant and where he’d seen it
before. I couldn’t let him find out, not like that. Not just then.
“Bane,” I said,
pulling him closer, loving the low, deep throttle of his voice vibrating when
my nails slid up his neck. “You watched over me. Protected me.”
“Did I scare
you then?”
“Always,” I
said, feeling brave, reckless. I exhaled, staring in his eyes like I wasn’t a
coward. “But I loved you for it.”
One swift nod,
as though he’d made up some silent decision on his own and Bane picked me up,
pulling me closer, his arm around my waist and that busted ankle injury
forgotten in his smooth haste to kiss me.
His look was
feral and possessive, and even though some loud, loud
voice in my head told me to stop him, reminded me that it was my job to stop
him, I was powerless against the rush of his mouth against my neck and the
greedy hold of his massive hand cupping my hip.
“This
isn’t…this won’t lead anywhere…” There was little fight in my protest, my words
meant to stop him, only contradicted by how I stretched my neck, giving him
greater access to my skin.
“It already
has. It started a long time ago.”
“It didn’t…”
“Yes, Jani,” he
said, shutting me up with that wide mouth, with the slip of his tongue along my
bottom lip. “Every look back then to right now, I was saying the same thing.
Every single one.”
My body was
electrified, stunted by Bane’s confession, crippled by the light heat
collecting around us. If I asked and was disappointed, I’d lose nothing. I had
claimed him long ago and had lived with the empty feeling of that for years. If
he claimed me now, not remembering a thing and discovered later how badly I’d
betrayed him, could I stand the notion that I was his and he no longer wanted
me?
Risk and rules.
My life existed around both and just for a moment with Bane watching me, with
him waiting for permission he didn’t seem familiar with ever having to wait
for, I wanted to take something for myself. Just once. “Do I have to ask?”
“No,” he said,
his bottom lip twitching as he watched me, “just look a little deeper.”
Want to read more?
Download the
first TWO CHAPTERS of the book here
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Eden Butler is a writer of contemporary, fantasy and romantic suspense
novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English
pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and
rum.
When she's not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrow-esque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, reads, and spends too much time in her garden perfecting her green thumb while waiting for the next New Orleans Saints Superbowl win.
She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana.
Please send help.
When she's not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrow-esque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, reads, and spends too much time in her garden perfecting her green thumb while waiting for the next New Orleans Saints Superbowl win.
She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana.
Please send help.
AUTHOR LINKS
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