Blurb: England, 1804. Herne the Hunter has roamed the forests for hundreds of years and he’s known love with fellow half stag-shifter Tam for the past two centuries. The passion between them sizzles hot as ever, but times are changing. Greenwood magic is fading and this threatens both Herne and Tam’s immortality and the bond between them.
After Herne discovers the Greenwood fairies are dying, and dockworkers felling oaks to build warships might be to blame, he wants to fight the modern world with his warrior’s sword. Tam, who embraces all things new, desires a dominant partner, not a brute who wants to drag England back to the Dark Ages. Soon the Wild Hunt, Herne’s ancient army of doom, are back, tempting him to unleash his wrath, and the rhythm of Herne and Tam’s lovemaking seems broken for good. When Tam’s plan to reinstate a spring ritual goes awry, only Herne can save him. Herne must choose between his past and future, and they both must decide what matters most—eternal life or eternal love.
A blossom-scented breeze blasted Tam as they bounded over tangles of ivy and lawlessly straggling flowers, into deeper, denser forest. Swift and sure as stags, they wove through glades of beech and pine, damp with dew and drenched with the smell of herbs. The race exhilarated Tam. They ducked the low limbs of the chestnuts and leaped winding roots; coarse brushwood scratched his ankles, but with Herne grasping him, he could never grow tired. The huntsman exuded strength as surely as their perspiration mingled where they touched, thrilling him, though he couldn’t help noting the forest’s scars. Many young spruces and firs had been brutalized with coppicing—an ancient practice and part of the forest’s life. But it had grown too prevalent, and where some of the oldest, greatest oaks had once stood, yawning gaps had opened up, revealing the woolly clouds sailing above.
His rising nerves diminished his ardor. Would the dell where he and Herne became betrothed still be there? While he was always keen to embrace new ways and customs, he’d be saddened if none of the beloved places remained intact.
Herne thundered to a halt. The laces of his tunic had unthreaded during their run. His garb fell open to display his heaving chest, adorned with crisp, dark hair. Tam wanted to tear the huntsman’s clothing from him but looked around first. “Are we here?”
Tam spotted a distinctive oak at the head of the dell—with the hooked branch from which he’d once taken the betrothal ribbon—and laughed with delight. “Yes! It’s still here. And look.” He pointed to a circle of toadstools, three paces distant. They were small and shriveled, an unhealthy yellowy-fawn color, but they were there. “The fairy ring remains too. Come on.”
He drew Herne into the circle, which reached about two yards across, and they stood at its heart. Herne held him and rubbed his erection against Tam once more. “Do you remember what we do now?” teased Tam. As he laughed, a stiff breeze skirmished through the trees, and a line of worry creased Herne’s brow. Tam’s humor faded. “What is it?”
“I heard something. A faint whisper on the wind called my name.”
Tam hadn’t noticed anything so distinct, but he’d been caught up in his joke and focused above all things on Herne. His hopes lurched. “Do you think it was them? The fair folk? I’ll wager they’re coming to watch us.”
“Maybe it was,” mumbled Herne, easing his frown. “Now be quiet, and let me fuck you.”
My m/m spin on the Robin Hood legend is out now!
Lord of the Forest by Kay Berrisford. Genre: m/m, fantasy and paranormal with some BDSM and fetish elements. Novel length (60k). Published by Loose Id. Art by Anne Cain.
Blurb: England, 1217. Dark forces are rising. In the Greenwood, foul spirits grow powerful, and greedy barons plunder the lands. Only one man dares fight back—Robin Hood.
Robin’s band of brothers is broken. Now a lone warrior, he denies his famous name and laments the friends and lovers he’s lost. When the fair folk capture Cal, a beautiful young forester descended from the Greenwood’s ancient protectors, Robin rescues him and forges a new alliance.
Despite a sizzling attraction, Robin senses Cal isn’t like his old comrades, and he’s right. Cal’s been raised as a royal spy. He plans to seduce and betray Robin, but can’t harm the man he’s falling hard for. Mistrust and arguments spill into passionate lovemaking, as Cal learns the meaning of loyalty, fighting beside Robin, the only friend he’s ever known. Even the enchanted forest seeks to bind Robin and the returned protector ever tighter.
Their connection will be tested by nature’s wildest forces, Robin’s past, Cal’s lies, and in a baron’s darkest dungeon. To survive, Robin and Cal must admit their love and embrace their true destinies. Only then can they save England and each other—and win their happiness ever after.
Had Daniel died hating him? Robin felt numb inside.
Cal touched his knee. “I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”
Robin couldn’t help but take comfort in Cal’s presence. It had been too long since he’d sat and talked with another man like this.
“But does devotion play no part?” asked the forester. “That connection between two souls when their eyes meet and their bodies touch. When they make love and know there can never be another.”
Robin gave no answer, because he had none. He’d never formed such an unbreakable bond, and he must end this charade now.
Instead he remained still as a statue, his throat dry. He stared into Cal’s eyes, striving to read more than the flicker of reflected firelight, and discerned no more or less than the reflection of his soul. A furnace of loneliness, pain, and desire blazed there. Hope tugged at his heart.
Could this be real? After so long alone, could my endless prayers for someone to hold have been answered?
He reached for Cal, tentative as if the forester were a sprite of moonbeams that would disintegrate beneath his touch. Swift as a pouncing wolf, Cal took Robin’s face in his hands and pressed his mouth to Robin’s.
Hot flesh brushed flesh, the contact gentle and moist and sending a bolt of fire straight to Robin’s cock. Caution shouted in the back of his brain but proved no use. Cal tasted of warm chestnuts, soft and sublime. The lad licked the seam of Robin’s mouth, and madness seized him. He parted his lips, grabbed Cal’s silky hair, and intensified the kiss. Cal moaned into Robin’s throat and drifted a hand up his thigh, setting his skin aflame and his prick stiffening.
In truth, Robin had rarely kissed before, not like this. With his men, he’d fumble and joke, then see straight to the business of their needy cocks. Now he enfolded Cal in his arms, pulling him closer, mindful of the lad’s injury. Cal worked his mouth slickly and sweetly, unleashing waves of feral passion that washed through Robin like a flood. He reveled in the union of flesh against flesh, the rising heat in his shaft, which Cal stroked so roughly it wept. Cal straddled him, scrubbing his burgeoning erection against the bared flesh of Robin’s thigh. Damn, Robin wanted to fuck him.
And he’d fall straight into a forester’s honeyed trap.
He broke the kiss and pushed the forester away. Cal whined, lust steeping his snatched breaths.
“That,” said Robin, “is not love either. For my part, it’s a lonely man being a fool. For your part…” He neither knew what accusation to make nor truly wished to say it.
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