Author Mary Gillgannon has an ARC offering for 20 advance review copies of her paranormal romance, CALL DOWN THE MOON. Interested reviewers will receive an free PDF ebook of the book in exchange for agreeing to leave an honest review on Amazon, Goodreads, or Barnes & Noble.
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In the ninth century, Irish warrior Connar fell hopelessly in love with Aisling, one of the Nine Sisters, a group of priestesses skilled in healing. When Aisling came to a tragic end, he used magic to travel to the future to be reunited with her. But Aisling, now Allison Hunter, a free-lance writer in Denver, doesn’t remember her previous life. Which means Connar has to get her to fall in love with him all over again.
She looked uneasy, Connar thought as he went back into the living room. To her, he was a stranger. It was reasonable for her to be wary and cautious. If only it was not so difficult for him to restrain himself. He didn’t want to make polite small talk. He already knew her. Her essence, her deepest spiritual self. The rest of it didn’t matter.
But he had to be considerate, to put her at ease. “They said the pizza should be here in forty-five minutes. Would you like a drink while we wait?”
“Maybe some wine.”
He went into the kitchen and pulled a dusty bottle from the wine rack, then dug in the drawer for a corkscrew. His hands shook as he inserted the corkscrew and worked it down. He couldn’t believe this moment had come. Aisling was here. After all these centuries. It was…magic. He took a deep breath. She was the whole center of his world, his reason for existence. He had to make certain everything went perfectly.
Pulling out the cork, he poured each of them a glass of wine and took the glasses into the living room. She was sitting on the couch, looking so beautiful it made his chest hurt. He handed her a glass and sat down beside her. Not too close. He didn’t want to distress her. But if he didn’t touch her soon, he would lose his wits.
She took a sip of the wine. The tip of her tongue poked out in an unconscious gesture as she tasted the wine. Connar sucked in his breath. He couldn’t endure much more. He was overwhelmed with desire. It was torment to be so close to her. To watch the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the tight fabric of her dress. To observe the pulse of life in her slim neck. To feast his eyes on the silken perfection of her skin. Every nuance, every detail of her body aroused him.
“It’s good wine,” she said. “I mean, I’m hardly a connoisseur, but it’s very mellow.” She looked at him, a shy flash of blue eyes. His mind went blank as he focused on her lips. Full and ripe, and moist from the wine.
He put down his own glass and cleared his throat, struggling for control. “Yes, it’s good wine. I’ve been saving it.”
“Saving it? For me?” Her voice was breathless, soft and light. Her pupils were huge, the black centers consuming the blue irises.
“Yes, for you.” He took her glass of wine and carefully set it on the table to his right. Then, he reached out and put his hand on her neck. She didn’t move, merely stared at him, lips slightly parted. He leaned forward to kiss her.