2006 CAPA WINNER

genre: fantasy
length: short novella (in 6-person anthology)
ISBN# electronic: 1-4199-0523-6
ISBN# print: 1-4199-5453-9
Price $9.99 download/$15.99 print

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BLURB:

One test to pass, and then Daphine will fulfill her life-long dream of becoming a priestess of Zudiat.  To worship the goddess, she must lose her virginity to a peer of the realm, and then turn away from men forever. In his father’s absence, Prince Sethe Cavelblood arranges to participate in the ritual.  He’s lusted after the priestess for a long time, and if he can only have her once, he wants it during the ritual for a night she will never forget. But one night isn’t enough.  Not for Daphine, who must soon take her vows, or for Sethe who has to find a suitable wife and start breeding heirs.  The priestess burns for his touch, but can she turn aside from her calling to follow a prince who must marry another?  And can the prince convince his father that it’s time to join the royal line and the priestesses once more?

Reviews 

“This is a well written tale, combining a really good story with scorching sex scenes and a little humor.”
-Maura Frankman, The Romance Studio

“Ellora’s Cavemen have returned with spicy tales in the sci-fi/fantasy, paranormal, futuristic and contemporary genres. The concepts are as diverse as the writing styles, and a few of the stories really stand out. ” 
- Romantic Times Book Club Magazine

“By far the favorite story in this anthology for this reviewer, Mary Winter has penned a powerful story that has depth, emotion and a sexy, sensuous romance.  Multi-dimensional characters, a plot with a good conflict and some really sizzling sex make this an unforgettable story.  This reviewer enjoyed this story and warns the reader to keep the ice bucket handy.”
- Valerie, Love Romances

“Mary Winter tells a hot tale full of a passion that transcends lifelong goals and duties.”
- Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies

“Dreams of the Oasis 3 is a showcase of some of the finest authors at Ellora’s Cave. Each story is a unique sampling of their talents. Priestess of Desire starts off with Daphne chained to the wall in Sethe’s bedchamber awaiting his pleasure. The story just gets even better from there. Mary Winter delivers an outstanding story. Daphne must choose between a goal she has had since childhood and an uncertain future with Sethe. Sethe must go against tradition and his mother if he wants to claim Daphne. Dreams of the Oasis 3 is definitely one of the best Ellora’s Cavemen installments.”
- Tara Renee, Two Lips Reviews

Excerpt

Tucking the basket under her arm, Daphine hurried through the crowded market. The potter promised the temple some new oil urns, and the High Priestess asked Daphine to check with him as she ran her errands. The aromas of fresh baked goods, roasting meat and animals filled the air. She passed a perfume seller, the cloying aromas nearly making her gag. Half a dozen lower noble ladies gathered around the booth, all chattering or bartering over some trinket or another.     

A flash of jealousy darted through her. These were the kind of ladies Sethe would wed. Not the lowly daughter of a blacksmith turned priestess. She shook her head. Thoughts of marriage were futile. After all, she devoted her body and her life to the Goddess.

As if thoughts of Sethe conjured him up, he stood two booths down from her. He held a leather scabbard in his hands and turned it over, looking at the craftsmanship. Daphine slipped into an empty spot next to the candlemaker’s tent.

“Priestess. So good to see you.” The old woman reached beneath the cloth covering the table and pulled out four sweet beeswax candles. “For the temple. Please, take them with my blessing.”

Trying to keep an eye on Sethe, she slipped the candles into her basket. “Thank you,” she said with a bow of her head. “The High Priestess will be pleased with your generosity.”

Sethe handed the scabbard back to the seller, then turned to leave.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Daphine said, ducking away as a woman stepped into her place at the candlemaker’s booth.

Daphine started down the street, her gaze fixed on Sethe’s broad back. Today he wore a forest green tunic belted at the waist, and fine, black trews tucked into knee-length boots. He paused at the silversmith’s booth and started to look. Daphine followed, thinking she could use the pretense of getting a new ritual chalice to cover her unnatural interest in the young prince.

She paused one seller down, looking at the leather goods with a disinterested eye. The seller watched her from back in his booth, certain a priestess had no use for scabbards and belts. A small pouch designed with a horse caught her eye, and she picked it up. Her father would love it for his belt, and she could send it home as a reminder of her existence. “How much is this?” she asked.

“Five crowns.”

Daphine’s face fell. She set the piece back with a small shake of her head. Her monthly allowance granted her less than a crown, certainly far less than the leatherworker would haggle. “Thank you,” she said and turned toward the silversmith.

Sethe appeared in deep discussion with the man over a pair of tankards set before him.

Daphine started toward the seller.

A cart barreled down the road. The crowd parted. Someone jostled Daphine, sending her stumbling forward. She tried to catch herself. Her slipper caught. Stumbling, she tried to right herself. Around her, the crowd milled and shoved one another as the cart loomed near. The clatter of wheels against cobblestones and the pounding of hooves filled the air. Someone shoved her. Her basket tipped, the candles spilling over the ground and breaking.

Sethe’s green coat wavered in her vision. He turned, and she feared stumbling into him. Oh no, don’t let me see him. Not after the ritual. Then one arm snaked around her and she found herself pulled against a hard, muscular chest.

“Easy, I’ve got you.” The deep voice filled her head and turned her knees to jelly.

Daphine grabbed the arm of his coat, looking around to try and step away. Only the arm holding her tightened. She blinked, suddenly realizing Sethe held her. Oh Goddess!

The cart rushed past, so close wind of its passage ruffled her hair.

Daphine started to back way.

The arm around her waist tightened, and her breasts flattened against his chest. Even through her cloak and gown her nipples hardened with the contact. She swore she felt the ridge of his cock pressing against her stomach. “Sir,” she said. “My Lord. Please unhand me.”

Her eyes widened when she realized the shopkeeper leered at her, as did several of the villagers nearby.

Sethe’s hand moved from her back to her buttocks, squeezing gently. “If you wish.” The playful grin on his face said he knew she wished no such thing.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She wanted to reprimand him, not only as a priestess, but as a woman for his brazen behavior. Instead she pushed against his chest with her free hand. Hard muscles met her hand, and she longed to curl her fingers into his shirt. Instead, she shoved against him. “My Lord. Let go of me this instant! I am a Priestess of Zudiat.”

In the crowd, people gasped.

“My Lord Prince, you best be letting her go,” the shopkeeper said.

Slowly, Sethe released the arm around her waist. “I wish I could do more than hold you, Priestess,” he whispered in her ear.

The words shook her. If the crowd hadn’t pressed around them, she feared she might have fallen. As it was, she turned and looked at the silversmith’s wares, hoping to find distraction from the handsome man. Her gaze fell on an elaborately decorated knife. The tiger-shaped hilt boasted real tiger’s-eye stones for eyes. Each intricately carved paw rested on a pearl. The weapon came with its own matching silver scabbard.

“Thinking of killing me?” Sethe asked in her ear.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, My Lord,” she replied with a saccharine smile on her face. Daphine leaned in closer, and whispered into his ear, “But if you make another public display like the last one, I could use it to turn you into a temple eunuch.”

Sethe blanched.

She turned her attention to the silversmith. “Your work is beautiful. I shall recommend it to my High Priestess.” Without waiting for a reply from the prince, she turned and strolled back through the market, happy to have gotten the best of the infuriating prince.