QSFer Irene Preston has a new MM historical fantasy/paranormal romance out in the shared The Pharaoh’s Promise series: The God’s Guardian.
In ancient Alexandria, a brilliant scholar and a fierce warrior are drawn together by a mystical artifact stolen from the tomb of a god-king.
Bhaskar, a radical young astronomer, arrives in Alexandria with stars in his eyes. He dreams of studying with the most renowned minds of the ancient world and making his name at the Great Library. When he stumbles upon a stolen artifact—a sundial tied to the Gods of Egypt—he is ripped away from the safe haven of his scrolls and plunged into a world of danger and supernatural intrigue.
On his first night in the city, Bhaskar is saved by Anu, a powerful warrior whose intervention feels anything but accidental. As the danger surrounding the sundial grows, so does the sizzling attraction between them. But neither man has revealed the full truth of their past —or their intentions.
In a world where gods still meddle in mortal lives, will the forces of darkness drive them apart, or is their love already written in the stars?
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The God’s Guardian may be read as a stand-alone or as part of The Pharaoh’s Promise.
An ancient Egyptian priest created a love spell to keep lovers close for all eternity. The sands of time have spread that spell far and wide, bringing love to some unexpected places….
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Excerpt
Instead of the blow he expected, another shout rang out and then came the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle. Bhaskar raised his head. At first, he could make out little in the dark. The larger of his attackers lay on the ground, moaning. The Greek stood with his back to Bhaskar and his knife out. Bhas caught a glimpse of white, then heard the dull thud of something hard hitting flesh. The Greek’s knife flashed as he pivoted to the side with a grunt. Nearer, the larger assailant tried to gain his feet, but again something moved in the night. This time Bhaskar caught the shadow of some weapon as it whistled through the air. The thug on the ground tried to roll away, but cried out as it struck his shoulder.
“Enough,” the Greek called. He held his knife in front of him as his eyes scanned the darkness, seeking their assailant. “There are two of us. You can’t fight us both for long.”
There was no answer.
“Very well,” the Greek finally conceded, “he is yours…for now.”
He extended a hand to the man on the ground and pulled him to his feet. Together they ran away into the night.
Bhaskar rolled to a sitting position. Every breath elicited a sharp pain from his ribs. He pressed a hand to his side, grateful to be alive to feel pain.
“Thank you,” he called into the darkness.
No one answered. It was if he had been rescued by a ghost.
Or maybe the new man had rescued him for purposes of his own. Perhaps a slightly drunk Brahmin scholar looked like easy prey.
Then there was another flash of white. The beautiful man from the tavern stepped out of the shadows, linen shenti bright against his dark skin. He held a small cudgel at the ready.
Bhaskar cringed backwards. The man made an irritated noise and lowered the weapon.
A million thoughts flew through Bhaskar’s head. Nothing made any sense. Without thinking he blurted out, “Who are you? Do you normally follow people home from taverns?”
“Do you normally leave taverns late at night with strangers you’ve just met?”
Bhas gaped at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Where I’m from there aren’t many strangers.” And none would attack the son of Acharya Vasudeva of the Badrinarayan Shrine.
Another thought occurred to him. “Are you going to rob me?”
“Are you carrying something very valuable, then?”
“No! A few coins for the tavern.”
The man snorted. “Foreigners are either looking for work or are rich tourists. You don’t look like a laborer.”
The sentiment echoed Bhaskar’s earlier thoughts with unsettling precision, but the man did not sound as though he found a tourist more to his liking than a laborer.
“I’m a scholar,” Bhaskar protested, “here to continue my research at the Mouseion.”
“Of course,” the man agreed politely. But under his breath he muttered, “Even better.” He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Come, we can’t leave you in the street all night.”
Bhaskar allowed the man to pull him to his feet. His ribs protested the movement, but he ignored them, suddenly enthralled by the man’s firm grip and obvious strength. He was not considered small at home, but he found himself almost at eye level with the broad, sculpted chest that had so captured his attention in the tavern. He forced his gaze upward and met sharp, watchful eyes surrounded by dark, curling lashes.
“Thank you,” he managed. “Again.”
He was still holding the man’s hand. And standing much too close. He forced himself to step away. “I’m Bhaskar.”
“The scholar,” the man agreed. “You may call me Anu.”
Author Bio
Irene Preston has to write romances, after all she is living one. As a starving college student, she met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe. Today they live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin, Texas where Dream Man is still working hard to make sure she never has to take off her rose-colored glasses.
| Amazon Buy Link | https://mybook.to/GuardianBook |
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| Author Website | https://irenepreston.com/ |
| Author Facebook | https://www.facebook.com/AuthorIrenePreston |
| Author Twitter | https://x.com/IrenePreston |