Guest Blog ~ Em Petrova
Today we welcome Guest Blogger Em Petrova to our pages.
Heroes with Super-Hunk Powers
By Em Petrova
Today I’m talking about one of my favorite topics—yummy men. Not just any man, though. Heroes. From sultry and aloof vamps to men in uniform, romance readers love a good hero.
We’ve all seen movies where the hero has dashed into the middle of a dangerous situation and snapped the heroine up into his arms while right-hooking her attacker and giving her a smoldering one-liner that reveals the state of his heart.
That’s the perfect mix of hunky—confident, powerful and sensitive with a dash of mysterious. I personally love heroes who have a little darkness within. And yes, I was the girl who dated bad boys in high school. That guy with the leather bomber who sat in the back of the class always drew my attention. Of course now you could give me a rough and tumble cowboy in Wranglers or a sexy executive who will throw his heroine against a wall and kiss her senseless before he storms into the board room and takes control.
I thought I’d share some super-hunk snapshots of two of my heroes from my Immortal Series with Red Sage.
From Runes: “Please don’t be frightened,” he heard himself say. Instantly the barrier crumbled and her mind melted into his blissfully. His head fell back, and his eyes hooded with the desire gripping him.
“Will,” she said aloud, but he also heard her in his soul. And then he was striding toward her, catching both of her hands in a single one of his, pressing his love into her very pores. Her face tilted upward.
He struggled. God, if only he could drop a kiss to those pale pink lips and taste her. His eyes devoured her features. Small and delicate—like a China doll. Her bones would feel like spun glass if he cradled her face. And oh, to do just that. A lightning strike of raw emotion wrenched his heart. The shiver rolled into Evangeline. He felt the sizzle of her mind in his mind and reveled in their close link. Her face tipped up.
“It’s true,” she whispered, awed. “My soul knows you.”
Her words were a punch to the gut. At last, the hole in his life closed, filled by Evangeline, his immortal mate. He exhaled sharply and squeezed her shaking hands. They were more delicate than he remembered from the Making, and silky smooth. His thumb searched upward, stroking her wrist. Her pulse leapt crazily beneath his touch. Gently, he caressed the column of her throat with his eyes. Her immortal tattoo drove him mad with desire. The things they would feel through this intimate touch drove him forward faster than he wanted, but he couldn’t stop himself.
He gripped her slight waist and swayed her into him. The music of her breath played in his ears. Her palms pressed against his chest and he froze, searching her mind. Did she intend to push him away?
“No,” she said, answering his thought. Her voice carried through the room and dizzied him. “Just… Will… don’t you see how much I need you?”
Her words were fire to kindling, and he was instantly aflame. With a growl of desperation, he scooped her off her feet and dipped his mouth to her tattoo. The shock sent their minds reeling, but he brought her so near they were one again. His mouth touched each tiny rune and star of her immortal tattoo and moved up her throat. At her ear, he paused to whisper, “You beautiful, beautiful woman. My mate. Mine. Feel it? It’s us.”
John spun toward them suspiciously.
Nathan sped off, feet thumping the corridors, looking first in the kitchen, and finding Maria in her small sitting room. He heard the voices rising as the others mounted the stairs, particularly John LeClair’s. His tone, his guarded gaze, his very fingertips which held Lillian against his chest made Nathan want to wring his neck.
Once he gathered a flustered Maria and a first-aid box, he entered the guest room where Lillian lay. She was spread upon the pale blue coverlet like Ophelia floating on water, her hair pooling about her heart-shaped face. Her lashes were a dark spidery sweep against her cheeks, one hand chaffed between John LeClair’s as he whispered love words into her ear.
Maria squeezed through the knot of onlookers, accepted the cool compress from Will and placed it on Lillian’s brow. Nathan looked on helplessly.
Just shut your eyes, he thought. Try not to see that she’s here and she’s sick and you probably can’t have her. But he couldn’t make himself stop looking at her. She was the kind of dainty woman that no longer existed—shapely calves, slender shoulders and flawless skin. Her eyes were grey, he knew now. Grey like the gathering thunderclouds of a storm.
Lillian, he thought despairingly. Her eyelids twitched.
Nathan drifted forward. His shins came up against the foot of the bed painfully. Lillian. Her lips formed his name in that silent moan he’d witnessed in a Vision.
“Ah, she’s coming around,” exclaimed John. He allowed her not an inch of breathing space, but trailed kisses across her forehead and down one cheek. “Lillian, my love, it’s all right. I’m here and—”
Will bodily removed Nathan from the room, and John yelled, “What the hell is this?”
As Will forced Nathan down the stairs before him, occasionally shoving him in the back to propel him faster, he hissed, “Nate, you’ve got to get a grip. If he suspects anything, he’ll take her and run.”
“I’d like to see him try,” he growled, stomping into the library. He strode to the fireplace and slammed his hands off the mantel. “What makes you think he doesn’t already suspect?”
“He doesn’t,” Will said with a slashing motion. “Nate, do you think for a minute Lillian will allow fighting? You need to play this hand right.”
“I need to be alone with her,” Nathan rasped.
Will and Nathan are two of my favorite heroes, and I hope you’re enjoyed reading a snippet of their lives. I’d love to hear what kind of heroes get your juices flowing. Leave a comment!
For more works, check me out here: http://www.empetrova.com