This month is my birthday and readers are the ones receiving the present! From June 15th -30th the first book of my Spirit Trilogy, Spirit of the Mountain, will be available or $.99 in ebook format.
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| 2012 Tamkaliks Celebration |
The spirit trilogy came to me after editors at a conference said they were looking for historical paranormal romance. I came up with the premise of Nez Perce spirits who traveled about as animals and could take the shape of humans when needed. The oldest is Himiin. He travels about the mountain as a white wolf keeping an eye over the Wallowa band. His brother, Wewukiye, prefers the form of a bull elk. Their younger sister watches over the tribe as a bald eagle. After hundreds of years of watching over the mortals, each one falls in love with a mortal and must face the consequences.
Here is the blurb and an excerpt for Spirit of the Mountain. You can learn more about all the book and the outlets to purchase the books at my website: www.patyjager.net
Wren, the daughter of a Nimiipuu chief, has been fated to
save her people ever since her vision quest. When a warrior from the enemy
Blackleg tribe asks for her hand in marriage to bring peace between the tribes,
her world is torn apart.
Himiin is the spirit of the mountain, custodian to all
creatures including the Nimiipuu. As a white
wolf he listens to Wren’s secret fears and loses his heart to the mortal
maiden. Respecting her people’s beliefs, he
cannot prevent her leaving the mountain with the Blackleg warrior.
When an evil spirit threatens Wren’s life, Himiin must leave
the mountain to save her. But to leave the mountain means he’ll
turn to smoke…
Excerpt
Wren’s eyes glistened with unshed
tears. “My gift is to save The People. The weyekin who came to me in my vision
quest said this.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if staving off a cold
breeze.
Himiin hated that they argued when
they should relish their time together. He moved to her, drawing her against
his chest, embracing her. The shape of her body molded to his. Her curves
pressed against him. Holding her this way flamed the need he’d tried to
suppress.
He placed a hand under her chin,
raising her face to his. The sorrow in her eyes tugged at his conscience. To
make her leaving any harder was wrong. But having experienced her in his arms,
he was grieved to let her go. Even for the sake of their people.
Her eyelids fluttered closed. Her
pulse quickened under his fingers. Shrugging off the consequences, he lowered
his lips to hers. They were softer than he imagined. Her breath hitched as he
touched her intimately. Parting his lips, he touched her with his tongue,
wanting to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.
Honey.
She tasted of sweet honey straight
from the bosom of a bee tree.
One taste was not enough. He pulled
her closer, moving his lips across hers, tasting and savoring the feel of them.
Her mouth opened and she sighed.
His body came to life. The sensations
transcended anything he’d experienced before. How could one woman make him feel
powerful and vulnerable at the same time? Why did he wish to crush her to him
and never let go and yet feel compelled to treat her with the tenderness
one would give the tiniest of creatures? He couldn’t
continue this way.
To hold her, to touch her soft
skin. He would never be able to let her go.
He
must.
He released Wren and stepped back,
avoiding her eyes. How could he show her the sensations she brought to him then
turn around and tell her they couldn’t see one another any more?
“Himiin? Did I do something wrong?”
The pain in her voice drew his gaze to her face.
The anguish and fear in her eyes cut through him like a
knife.
“You did nothing wrong. It is I. I
should not touch you so. It is wrong.” He took one step forward, before
remembering he could not touch her and remain sane. “You are spoken for. We
should not be together.”
She moved quickly, grasping his
hand before he could pull away. “I could not bear to not have you to speak with
these last days.” She stroked his hand. “Or to touch.” She placed his hand on
her cheek. “I may never feel this touch from the Blackleg.” She kissed his
palm. “I wish to have this to remember.”
He growled and pulled her into his
arms. “I wish I were the one to touch you so, but I cannot. It is wrong.”
“Why?” She leaned back, studying
his face. “I should be the one to say if it is wrong or not. It is my heart, my
body. My life.”
“You belong to another. He has
spoken.” Himiin released her and took a step back. He should not have shown
himself to her as a man. Wewukiye was right.
It complicated things.
Set a reminder to yourself that this book will be on sale starting June 15th. Then enjoy my gift!
Paty












