Taken By The Faerie Prince

By Violet Jessamy

When faeries stole his sister, Simon Francis swore revenge and spent years trying to get it. But he has given up on the dark, destructive feelings and is now living a normal life that is free of the supernatural Fey folk... or so he thinks, until an old nemesis appears in his bedroom. Faerie prince Gale accuses Simon of a crime he did not commit, and their meeting sets in motion a chain of events that will draw Simon once more into the world of faeries.

A difficult task lies ahead. Simon not only fights for his life, but also struggles against his growing attraction to the dark, deadly prince.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Violet Jessamy
• Release date: May 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476221915

Violet Jessamy

Violet Jessamy’s thoughts do not always revolve around sex - just most of the time. She believes that this fact, along with her hyperactive imagination, is to blame for her choice of secondary career. Having developed a passionate interest in erotica as soon as she figured out it existed, she credits the internet in general for allowing her to pursue said interest and tolerating her early attempts at creating the perfect arousing tale.She also writes non-erotic fiction, but gets far more enjoyment out of writing smutty stories.

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Taken By The Faerie Prince

Published by Violet Jessamy at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Violet Jessamy

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~*~

I knew something was off when Nuri did not greet me at the door. She was in the kitchen instead, pacing up and down and winding her tiny body busily around my ankles once she spotted me. Granted, she had done this plenty of times before, and strictly speaking there was no real reason for me to assume anything was wrong. She looked fine. She acted fine. All I had was a weird feeling.

Trust me, after a long, tiring day at work, I would have liked nothing more than to wave that feeling away while shaking my head at my own paranoia, then collapse onto the couch and down a beer or three until I’d forgotten all about it. But I couldn’t.

When you have the kind of past that I have, you don’t ever ignore a gut feeling.

Ever.

So I ran a hand through my hair in frustration and looked around for a weapon. I wrenched a nail out of the wall that had held up a picture of my parents about six years ago. The picture was hanging elsewhere now, but I had never bothered removing the nail. I would love to say it was foresight, but truth be told, it had just been plain laziness on my part.

Then I did a very careful, very thorough sweep of my entire home.

It was in my bedroom that I finally found what I was looking for. The lights were off, but the moon was shining in through the window, allowing me to see the hint of tiny, shimmering particles in the air from the corner of my eye. They were gone when I turned my head to get a closer look.

They looked plain, not like anything that would alarm anyone not in the know. It might have been dust, only just disturbed, dancing through a ray of sunlight, but, well, it was night. It might have been tiny flakes of frost, except I was standing in my own bedroom and not in a damn walk-in cooler.

Unless you’re in the mood for a game of hide and seek that’s just gonna end in tears, I suggest you show yourself, I told the empty bedroom.

For a moment, nothing happened. I was tired and cranky, so I considered underlining the threat by waving my improvised weapon around a little.

Then a slight breeze brushed my bare forearms and tried to make me shiver. I resisted. Never a good time to show weakness when you don’t even know who exactly you’re dealing with.

I blinked once, and a man appeared, standing by the window, next to my nightstand.

When I say man, I don’t actually mean that in the traditional