Book Title: Brazenly Daray (D’Vaire, Book 22)
Author: Jessamyn Kingley
Publisher: Independently Published
Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations
Release Date: March 18, 2021
Genre: M/M Urban Fantasy
Trope: Fated Mates
Themes: Fate, love
Length: 97 844 words
It is not a standalone story.
Check out the series here
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Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
For one sentinel, tradition is everything until he meets a pointy-eared photographer who is no elf.
Blurb
Teverild is a man who refuses to allow anyone to call him an elf, despite his pointy ears. Having left his tribe behind centuries ago, Teverild is now a successful photographer. Although his phone contains the numbers of powerful people within the Council of Sorcery and Shifters, and they endeavor to include him in family and other important events, he rebuffs friendship. The concept of mates eludes him, and he doesn’t want that connection either.
As a sentinel, Skeleton Lord Cassius Daray strives for perfection. His purpose is to aid his people, and he works diligently to further the goals of the Sentinel Brotherhood. At home, Cassius enjoys being with his family and throws himself into his hobbies, but there is something missing. What Cassius wants most is to find a mate.
With a penchant for trouble, Teverild winds up on the wrong side of the law. His penance is to teach a group of sentinels the basics of his craft. Teverild wants to get the class over with, but his life changes forever when he meets Cassius. Drawn together immediately, they must overcome their ghosts if they want to forge a future and build a love that will sustain them both.
Teverild’s mind went blank, and he walked forward without thought. His feet carried him within inches of Cassius, whose hair was freshly combed but still hanging loosely in his face.
“You look damn good,” he told Cassius.
“So do you. You left enough buttons open that I can tell your chest isn’t inked.”
“When I find the right art, I might do it.”
“It’ll look just as sexy as the tattoos on your arms.”
“I went out and bought this shirt today,” Teverild confessed.
Already used to the honesty that somehow went with being around Cassius, he refrained from rolling his eyes at his own nonsense.
“You didn’t have to go shopping for me, but I like seeing you in sentinel green.”
“It’s called chartreuse.”
“Not in my house or anywhere in the entire Sentinel Brotherhood.”
“Pretty humble of you to hijack an entire color for yourselves,” Teverild teased.
“We took two, actually. There’s sentinel gray too. Most people call it charcoal.”
“What if I woke up one morning and decided to do the same thing? Your comforter would turn into Teverild blue.”
“I can’t wait to see you sprawled over it.”
“We should probably have dinner before you start telling me about your fantasies.”
“I made a reservation for us,” Cassius revealed. “I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward, but could I hold your hand on the walk to the restaurant?”
“I think I’d like that.”
Cassius held out a meaty paw, and Teverild slipped his palm into it. There was a frisson of electricity where they touched, which excited Teverild, but there was also a prevailing sense of security. Teverild’s instincts were shouting that Cassius was a man to be trusted. His gut assured him there was no reason to safeguard himself, but his mind was not ready to take that leap.
“This feels nice,” the Skeleton Lord said, walking in step with Teverild.
“Yeah,” Teverild responded, biting back the impulse to tell Cassius it was the first time he could remember being touched in a way that wasn’t cruel.
“Your hair’s a little different; I like it.”
“It’s messy, and I was too lazy to re-plait it. Usually by the end of the day I stick a baseball cap on to keep it out of my face, but that didn’t seem the appropriate look for our first date.”
“I’m glad you left it the way it is.”
“I like that yours is always kinda rumpled,” Teverild told him.
They’d managed the short distance to the restaurant, and he shook his head when Cassius opened the door for him. Although reluctant to release his hand, Teverild had no choice.
Inside Andra’s, he was warmed by the giant sentinel behind him. The Skeleton Lord was fussed over as he spoke to the hostess, and seconds later, they were following her to their table. Teverild lifted a brow but said nothing as Cassius helped him into his seat again. Once Cassius was planted in his chair, they were handed menus and the hostess left them.
“It’s called sentinel chic,” Cassius remarked.
“What?”
“My hair. We all wear ours the same, and we don’t bother fixing it because when we train it gets messed up anyway, so we call it sentinel chic.”
Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.
Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.
Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s
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