Characters, and their goals and motivations, are central to any story, but particularly so in romance, which focuses on the love relationship between two people. Put the right characters together, and the story practically writes itself. In The Goddess’s Curse, a fantasy/sci-fi romance, I was inspired by the mythological Amazon women who lived apart from men until they needed to mate. But that was only the inspiration. The story developed out of the characters. In the Goddess’s Curse, there are three main ones.
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Name: Reena
Status: Princess. Daughter of the queen, heiress to the throne.
Where she lives: In the royal palace, centered among the villages of the Sharona, a race of women who live apart from men until libidinal fever compels them to mate with the barbarian males of the Lahon tribe.
Her problem: She has been stricken by a mysterious illness, and it is unlikely she will live long enough to inherit the throne or to fulfill her duty to the Goddess by producing a daughter.
Her biggest ally: Her cousin Honna, her best friend, confidant, and a gifted healer, who has toiled selflessly to find a cure for her illness.
Her greatest wish: To see a Lahon in the flesh before she dies.
Her plan: Accompany her cousin on her mating manhunt so she can get a look at a Lahon up close and personal.
What drives her: Hope. It’s all she has left.
♥ ♥ ♥
Name: Garat
Status: Leader of the Lahon.
Where he lives: In the Lahan settlement, a two-day journey from the Sharona village.
His problem: His people are running out of water. The Sharona, however, have an abundance.
His greatest nemesis: The Sharona woman who killed his infant son. He doesn’t know her name, but he’ll never forget her face.
His greatest wish: To get water for his people and avenge his son’s death.
His plan: Kidnap a woman so he’ll have leverage against the Sharona queen.
What drives him: Revenge.
♥ ♥ ♥
Name: Honna
Status: Niece to the queen, cousin to Reena.
Where she lives: In the royal palace, forced into a demeaning occupation tending to her weak, undeserving cousin.
Her problem: Her cousin isn’t dying fast enough, and now she (Honna) has been stricken by libidinal fever and must leave the palace to mate.
Her greatest nemesis: Many. Those who are great have many enemies.
Her greatest wish: To ascend the throne of the royal house of Sharona.
Her plan: Bring her cousin along with her on the manhunt so the arduous journey will weaken Reena and she’ll succumb to the illness.
What drives her: A lust for power.
The Goddess's Curse (Heartmates, #1)
by Cara Bristol
ebook, 241 pages
Published March 15th 2015 by Cara Bristol
ISBN 0990805298
Sharona women and barbarian Lahon men maintain separate lives until libidinal fever strikes, and the women are forced to mate.
Stricken by a mysterious terminal illness, Sharona Princess Reena jumps at the chance to accompany a cousin on her mating journey so she can at least see a Lahon before she dies.
Garat, leader of the Lahon, hates the Sharona because of the woman who birthed and killed his son years ago. Now that a massive earthquake has left his people with precious little water, he has the perfect excuse to exact revenge by driving the Sharona from their homeland and taking what the Lahon need.
When he encounters Reena on the mating journey he takes her hostage to force the Sharona to capitulate to his demands, but finds himself drawn to her instead. As his desire rises, lust for revenge wanes.
But after what he’s done, can he convince her of the evil that lives in the palace in time to save her life?
Excerpt
Reena sighed and snuggled in her bed. As her illness progressed, a persistent chill had pervaded her bones. The heaviest robe, the thickest blanket could not banish it. This morning? So comfortable and cozy. Her blanket, though unusually heavy, was oh so warm, and so was the pillow beneath her head. But hard. What kind of feathers could make a pillow so firm yet still tickle her nose? She rubbed her cheek against it, absorbing the unusual, pleasant scent. Musky, and earthy. Like woodsmoke or fresh evergreen. Or a combination of both.
If only every morning could be like this. She hugged her pillow. Soon an attendant would arrive to rouse her for breakfast, but maybe she’d feign sleep. Naughty. She smiled.
Then sobered. Yes, she’d been naughty. She had displeased her cousin by refusing further treatment. What had occurred after that? She crinkled her forehead, trying to remember. She’d poured out the tincture, and then…then…
A Lahon had burst from the foliage.
Then muscle cramps and searing pain. Paralysis.
Her eyes flew open. Rough-hewn walls, large, rustic furniture filled her field of vision. Gone were familiar accoutrements and luxuries. Instead of finely woven fabric, a furry animal hide covered her, and, supporting her head, was hard flesh covered by a thick mat of…of, hair. A man’s chest.
She bolted upright with a shriek.
The Lahon sprang up without a sound.
“Help!” She tried to scramble from the bed, but he hooked an arm around her waist. “Let me go! Help!”
She slapped at his shoulders, his chest, his face. Neither blows nor screaming fazed him a bit, and she found herself flat on her back, her cries silenced by his calloused hand, her arms restrained, her lower body pinned by his heavy, muscular thigh, and something sizable and rigid poking her leg.
She stared into dark eyes. Be careful what you wish for—you may get it. She’d longed to see a Lahon up close and personal. It couldn’t get any closer than this. She could detect the pores on his face, discern that his green eyes were composed flecks of fern, moss, and teal, and that a muscle twitched in his square jaw. Long, unbound dark hair fell against broad shoulders.
Her heart fluttered like the wings of a frantic bird. What had happened? How had she gotten here? Where was Honna? And…and her robe? Oh Goddess. He was naked, too. That, that, thing digging into her leg was his…his manroot.
Reena sighed and snuggled in her bed. As her illness progressed, a persistent chill had pervaded her bones. The heaviest robe, the thickest blanket could not banish it. This morning? So comfortable and cozy. Her blanket, though unusually heavy, was oh so warm, and so was the pillow beneath her head. But hard. What kind of feathers could make a pillow so firm yet still tickle her nose? She rubbed her cheek against it, absorbing the unusual, pleasant scent. Musky, and earthy. Like woodsmoke or fresh evergreen. Or a combination of both.
If only every morning could be like this. She hugged her pillow. Soon an attendant would arrive to rouse her for breakfast, but maybe she’d feign sleep. Naughty. She smiled.
Then sobered. Yes, she’d been naughty. She had displeased her cousin by refusing further treatment. What had occurred after that? She crinkled her forehead, trying to remember. She’d poured out the tincture, and then…then…
A Lahon had burst from the foliage.
Then muscle cramps and searing pain. Paralysis.
Her eyes flew open. Rough-hewn walls, large, rustic furniture filled her field of vision. Gone were familiar accoutrements and luxuries. Instead of finely woven fabric, a furry animal hide covered her, and, supporting her head, was hard flesh covered by a thick mat of…of, hair. A man’s chest.
She bolted upright with a shriek.
The Lahon sprang up without a sound.
“Help!” She tried to scramble from the bed, but he hooked an arm around her waist. “Let me go! Help!”
She slapped at his shoulders, his chest, his face. Neither blows nor screaming fazed him a bit, and she found herself flat on her back, her cries silenced by his calloused hand, her arms restrained, her lower body pinned by his heavy, muscular thigh, and something sizable and rigid poking her leg.
She stared into dark eyes. Be careful what you wish for—you may get it. She’d longed to see a Lahon up close and personal. It couldn’t get any closer than this. She could detect the pores on his face, discern that his green eyes were composed flecks of fern, moss, and teal, and that a muscle twitched in his square jaw. Long, unbound dark hair fell against broad shoulders.
Her heart fluttered like the wings of a frantic bird. What had happened? How had she gotten here? Where was Honna? And…and her robe? Oh Goddess. He was naked, too. That, that, thing digging into her leg was his…his manroot.
Author bio:
Cara Bristol continues to evolve, adding new subgenres of erotic romance to her repertoire. She has written spanking romance, contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction romance. No matter what the genre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently resides in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling. http://carabristol.com/
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