The Royal Chronicles, Book 2

New Concepts Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-60394-036-8
Genre: Historical/Dark Fantasy

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Seduction has always come easy for Elric, the second to the youngest of the four Drahcir princes. When he finds his mate he intends to convince her to return with him by using his famed seduction.

However, he isn't prepared to find his mate not only against any type of phyiscal involvement, but avoiding men at all costs.

Now, Elric will have to use his heart as well as his seduction to win his mate and save his family and kingdom.

REVIEWS

5 Stars! "...Second in the Royal Chronicles, Donna has done it again. This book is spicy and Elric is the kind of man that can make a modern day woman give up all her convenient goodies." - Melisa, Euro-Reviews

5 Enchantments! "...journey through this enchanting and glorious series. But be fair warned - once Donna Grant begins to weave her magic, neither you nor the characters will ever be the same. “Prince of Seduction” may only be the second in the tale of Fae, love, and sacrifice, but it will only cause longing to read the others." - BrandyWine, Enchanting Reviews

4.5 Hearts! TOP PICK! "I'm a sucker for instant lust that turns to everlasting love. And Prince of Seduction delivers just that. I recommend this wholeheartedly, and the first book for sure." - Chris, Night Owl Romance

"If you like fantasy, time-travel, and Scotsmen, check out Donna Grant’s Royal Chronicles." - Cassie, Joyfully Reviewed

EXCERPT

Highlands of Scotland

1268


Elric sighed into the fading light of day as the sun streaked the sky a vivid purple, pink and orange. Each hour that past, each month he counted off, put him that much closer to failing his family and his father’s kingdom, Drahcir.

The bloody curse that had been with his family for generations, generations that had managed to beat the curse and keep Drahcir and its people alive, but he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would fail.

He ran a hand down his face, feeling more tired and fatigued than he had in months. He longed to speak to his family, especially his brothers. Four siblings had never been closer than he and his brothers. They had shared everything growing up, which made it all the harder when it came time for each of them to leave on their eighteenth year.

How long had he searched for his mate? How many women had he sought, only to realize they weren’t for him? How long had he been alone as he scoured Scotland for the woman who could save his kingdom?

And the answer to all questions was a resounding -- too long.

He was tired of wandering, tired of searching faces, and most importantly, he was tired of fearing that he would fail. As he had often of late, he let out a string of curses that would curl a saint’s toe and wished he could see his ancestor that he meddled in the affairs of the Fae and caused the curse.

Elric leaned against the side of the inn and crossed his arms. Fall had descended on the Highlands and the cool night hair helped to soften his growing ire. He had no wish to go inside the inn, but he must. He had to find his mate and return with her before the fifth moon of the Harvest Year, or the curse would wipe out Drahcir and its people. All because his ancestor wanted to see if he could make a Fae princess fall in love with him.

Well, his ancestor had succeeded, but the fool hadn’t stopped to think what would happen when the princess discovered he didn’t love her. What she had done was put the curse not just on Elric’s ancestor, but the entire Sinclair family.

He had asked his father once if the curse would ever end. Unfortunately, his father didn’t have an answer, and Elric was afraid there wasn’t one.

“I don’t think you will find what you seek standing out here.”

Elric slowly turned his head to see who had dared to interrupt his private musings. What he saw gave him pause. He straightened from the building and turned to face the man. Long flaxen hair that hung down the middle of the man’s back and held away from his face by several rows of tiny braids, lifted gently in the wind. But it was his unusual shimmering blue eyes that alerted Elric he was standing before a Fae.

The Fae smiled. “I’m glad you know what I am. As for the who? You may call me Aimery. I am commander of the Fae army and here to aid you.”

“Aid me? I didn’t think anyone was allowed to help us.”

Aimery smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. That’s when Elric noticed the Fae’s curious clothes. The tunic and pants, though typical of the time, were not made of the course wool or even the finer material of the gentry. The fabric was unlike anything Elric had ever seen, or would ever see.

“I’m not supposed to help you,” Aimery said as though Elric wasn’t staring at his clothing. “However, drastic times call for drastic measures.”