WARRIOR LOVER
Available Total e Bound [buy]
Paranormal Erotic Romance
Novella
ebook
June 6, 1944 – Belle is part of the French Resistance, fighting for freedom from the Nazis that have taken control of her country. She feels most comfortable with a rifle in hand, and earns the respect of the Allied Forces, always sure of her actions. That is until Lieutenant Colonel A. Riese appears on the French shores for the long awaited invasion.
Ares wants to take part in this war, and he wants to win. When he encounters Belle, he can’t resist this mortal woman with the face of a goddess and the heart of a warrior. Will the mighty Ares, Greek god of War, be defeated by love?
Some reviews for WARRIOR LOVER:
“Ms. LaCroix delves right into war, love and the way the gods/goddesses play with mortals right off the bat. With the right amount of passion, adrenaline and purpose, she delivers a story that will keep you reading…Ms. LaCroix does a fabulous job capturing her characters and the way she made the setting of the story come alive made me feel like I was there beside them.” ~Love Romances & More
“Ms. LaCroix is telling a story about the phenomenon that love always finds a way even to times where all what people have is hope…It’s not easy to voice yourself while having events of WWII as background of a romance story, but Ms. LaCroix mastered it with the right amount of emotion and an excellent pacing of the story, that makes Warrior Lover a recommended read.” ~ Cupid’s Library Reviews
“Taking an actual historical event and using it as the backdrop for a work of fiction has been done many, many times. It takes a talented author to do this and make it work without doing disservice to those involved in said past events. Ms. LaCroix is undoubtedly among those with this talent.” ~Novelspot
EXCERPT FROM WARRIOR LOVER
Climbing out of their crude underground bunker, Belle was met with darkness. She nodded at Jean-Luis and headed off for the planned drop zone.
The area the British Allies were to parachute into was a small clearing off the woods approximately two miles from the Nazi lookout post and checkpoint.
As she ran quietly through the dense woodland, Belle went over the plans silently within her mind. While she led the British to the bridge and checkpoint, Jacques and his sister, Elise, would take care of cutting off communications via telegraph lines. If all went as planned, the train filled with ammunition would be derailed and in the bottom of the river by two a.m. The bridge, a major artery, would also be obliterated. If the intelligence was correct, the train carried tons of explosives. When their charges were ignited, it would set in motion a chain reaction of destruction. It would be a significant blow to the German forces.
Arriving at the edge of the drop zone, she uncovered a hidden lamp to signal the gliders above. This would help the paratroopers to zero in on their target.
Fifteen minutes went by, and the skies remained clear.
Then she saw the first shadow above. She lit the lamp and gave the signal.
Her nerves were on edge, her breathing erratic. She was so excited, she wanted to scream with joy, “The Allies are here!” but she fought to remain calm. This was the moment she’d prayed for since the day her parents were killed.
The first parachutes came into view. Four parachutists jumped from the low gliding craft, silent in the night. She put out the lamp and hid it again in a nearby hollow tree stump. Covering it with branches, her hands shook. A certain amount of fear welled within her soul, and she had to beat it down. This was no time for cowardice.
She ducked into the trees as the paratroopers touched ground. In silence, they gathered their chutes and bolted for the trees.
As one passed her, she reached out for his arm.
He pulled a knife in a flash, and she gasped.
Then she saw his face.
It was the face of a god, and she felt her body respond fiercely. Dressed in green fatigues, helmet, belt filled with ammunition, grenades, and other supplies, this man appeared well fit for the role of soldier. He was commanding in stature with broad shoulders and a powerful energy seeping from his body. She was drawn to that essence and had to shake herself to break from its invisible grip.
“Mademoiselle? Parlez vous Anglais?” he asked, his sea green eyes sparkling in the faint moonlight.
“Oui. Come with me,” she stammered and turned from his gaze. Did his face have to be so appealing even when covered in dirt and grease? Grasping her rifle, she motioned for him to follow.
“Wait, all my men—” He looked back, and three other soldiers approached from the darkness.
“Follow me. We have a short walk to the bridge.” She watched the handsome British officer, wondering why he seemed so different. He had a certain aura about him that was out of the ordinary. Even his accent seemed…different.
Her eyes quickly scanned his form, settling on his crotch. It was bulging. A hard on? Here? Now?
He cleared his throat, and she blushed. She was caught ogling this man’s groin.
“Shall we go?” he asked.
“Oui, oui.” Before she said anything more, Belle bolted off into the woods towards the bridge. She didn’t turn to see if the men followed. The sounds of footfalls and bodies brushing past low branches told her they did.
What was she doing staring at a strange man’s crotch? She was Belle, leader of a Résistance unit, well-respected and trusted. She did not get excited over a bulge. At least, she’d never let a handsome face make her insides turn into tapioca. His strong virility pulled at her insides, sending her body into a hormonal overdrive. She needed to concentrate on the mission. The battle. The victory.
The soldiers kept pace with her until they arrived nearby the bridge. They gathered on the edge of the woods across from the south end. Approximately a quarter mile long over the Merderet River, the bridge was a challenging target for the small band of Résistance fighters, which was why the British Allies were dropped in as additional help.
“There it is, Toussaint Bridge. My men are digging charges there,” she whispered, pointing out Jean-Luis from a distance. Even dressed in black, she could spot him easily. It helped that she had mapped the area down to the last pebble, and she knew exactly where to dig in explosives.
“Marshall, Jackson, Jones…go assist.” The handsome soldier waved to his comrades. They nodded then crept towards the bridge.
“I can’t tell you how we looked forward to this night,” she said. Belle was unsure what to say. His body radiated appeal, drawing her. Merde, this was no time for her panties to get drenched from want.
He watched her face intently. She shivered despite the warm night.
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel A. Reese. You may call me Ares. Everyone does.”
“Like the Greek god?”
He chuckled.
She squeezed her thighs together tightly. The sound of his laugh sent a tingling awareness rushing through her, pooling at the apex of her legs. She was unused to having such a reaction to a man. And on a night like this, the night the tides of war were to shift, she was fighting with her own sexual arousal.
“Ares was the god of war. I have a talent for fighting. The name just fit.”
Watching his full lips move as he talked was strangely erotic. She wondered what those lips would feel like kissing her skin.
Glancing back to the bridge, she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. Calm yourself, Belle. This is not the time to give into your body’s demands.
“Where is the check point? We may have to take care of a few Germans before the train gets here. Or do a bit of diversion.”
Good, talk about the war. That would help her jumping heart. “Just up the tracks about a mile from here. The guards do routine patrols every half an hour.” She checked her watch. “They are due for the next round in ten minutes.”
“And the plan?”
“Eliminate before any suspicion is reported.”
“And the telegraph lines?”
“They will be cut as the train is about to cross the bridge.”
“And that is how long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Good.” He paused and leaned in. His gaze pinned her with its intensity. “Mademoiselle, you are unique. If this wasn’t a mission, I’d ask you out to the movies for a Saturday evening.”
Her cheeks burned pink, and she was glad the darkness shadowed her blush.
“And your name is?” he asked in a low voice.
“Belle.”
“Suits you, Belle.” Her name rolled off his tongue like an endearment.
And she loved hearing him say it.
