Can the goddess of sexuality teach a man that life can be full of love or will his past hurts be too much to overcome?
Aeval, the Irish goddess of sexuality, has been sent to Earth by the Dagda, the Lord of All Things, to find a mortal to love her. If she does not find true love within twenty-one days, she will perish. She has great gifts: the gift of invisibility, the gift of telepathy, and the gift to show husbands how to sexually satisfy their wives completely, but even with her great powers, she struggles to survive among the Earthbound. As if navigating the world of mortals isn't difficult enough, she has to face her father's arch enemy.
Andrew, a talented musician and the man of her dreams, has impenetrable defenses. He is enthralled with Aeval, but unwilling to give her his love because he has been deeply hurt and he has no intention of letting that happen again.
Aeval and Andrew find themselves in a battle of hearts and wills that only true love will conquer.
Will Aeval be able to break down Andrew's defenses and will she be able to save him from Baylor's twisted scheme? Or will the Banshee cry in mourning for Andrew?
She braced herself, took a deep breath and opened the door. Standing in the hallway was a young man, perhaps in his late twenties, with eyes like stars in the navy night and a generous amount of blond hair that gently ruffled to his shoulders. His forehead was broad and intelligent, his nose aquiline and perfectly centered between rosy cheeks, and his jaw line strong and defined.
He was nicely built, not too short or too tall, with broad shoulders that formed the top of a triangle with his small waist. His arms were long and his biceps bulged beneath a tight black turtleneck. He wore black jeans which fit snugly to his hips and black boots with silver buckles. He carried a thin briefcase in his left hand.
Taking in the image of him induced an electric sensation Aeval found disconcerting. For a moment, she was dizzy and her mind spun out of control.
Immediately, she imagined him pushing her backwards, catching the door with his foot to slam it shut, and nudging her toward the bed. In that moment, she could almost feel her breasts against his chest, her eyes gazing up into his, her channel instantly wet and waiting to be filled. She could almost feel the heat from the satin beneath them, see him caressing her, arching to take him as he plunged into her.
She could hear music, sweet and sensuous, a hauntingly beautiful ballad that she'd never heard before. It was mystical, enchanting, spellbinding, and it drowned out thoughts of anything except this man.
Aeval shook off the images and pulled the sash of the robe tighter, feeling her hard nipples rubbing against the silk organza. What magic spell has he cast on me? She extended her hand. The young man took it and a strange warmth spread through her.
"Hello again, April," he said.
He knows me, she thought, catching her breath and feeling a gentle throbbing between her legs as she swelled in anticipation of his magic wand.
"Welcome, um—" she croaked, feeling a naïve joy deep down in her chest.
"Andrew. Andrew Wright, remember? We talked about me giving you harp lessons the other night in the pub downstairs?"
Bird fluttered and let out a tiny squeak.
"Oh, yes, of course. Of course we did. Come in."
To his surprise, Andrew was feeling something that he thought had long been buried. He closed his eyes for a moment, lost in the vision of it. The image of being lost with her in a frenzy.
Oh god, to feel her lips on his hard cock, to watch her suck him, to reach orgasm and pull her head back and watch her swallow his cum. He wanted to part her robe right now, cup her breasts and pull at her nipples. He wanted to part the lips beneath the raven pubic curls between her legs and let his cock thread itself through her needle. To make her scream.