genre: fantasy, shape shifter
electronic ISBN #1-84360-548-1
Price $6.99

Buy in electronic format at Ellora’s Cave

BLURB:

A prince should be handsome,
charming,
seductive…
and fluffy?

When a hare entices Amelle into the forest behind the cottage she shares with her mother, Amelle thinks she going mad. She wants a prince, not some creature who talks in her mind. But when the hare leads her to a man, a prince, Amelle has to choose between her dreams of freedom and the prince who stands before her.

Reviews

“Mary Winter did an excellent job with this charming fantasy love story! The romance and desire shown with Amelle and Kanin was endearing and memorable. This shape-shifter was not a predator and it was an enjoyable departure to the other types in the genre. I could easily hope for more of these types of shifters from Ms. Winter as this one left me with a warm, furry feeling (pun intended) and I am thrilled to have read it!”
- Joyce, Coffee Time Romance

“Prince of the Logos is an enchanting story of fairytale love with a bit of a twist. Ms. Winter creates a delightful world where love grows from longing and characters captivate the reader as well as each other. I found the new view of an old formula to be refreshing. I feel as though I can just step into the pages and experience Ms. Winter’s world for myself. All in all, Once Upon a Prince is a thrilling respite from the cares of the world that I believe anyone liking romance will enjoy to the fullest.”
- Keely Skillman, EcataRomance Reviews

Excerpt

Your prince awaits you. The words were spoken in her mind with such clarity that Amelle jumped. She pressed a hand to her throat, feeling the rapid beating of her heart. There, on the path in front of her, sat the hare

The wild hare turned his head, giving her such a human stare that Amelle blushed. Suddenly, she was aware how she looked. She wore a dress made of fabric so thin the outline of her breasts clearly showed, and when the sun hit the material the flimsy fabric hid nothing. Her hair, once twisted on top of her head, now fell in disarray around her shoulders. Instinctively, her hand reached up to touch the fallen coif.

“I’m in no shape to meet a prince, little hare,” Amelle said as she walked forward, feeling foolish for talking to a forest creature.

You’re beautiful.

The hare stared at her as she drew closer. The words could only have come from the creature. Amelle’s hands shook with the realization that a hare had been speaking in her mind.

Maybe I should go back and forget about all of this. Mother thinks I daydream too much as it is. If she knew I heard voices.

Amelle shuddered and turned to see if she could see the cottage, half wanting to return. The trees obscured it from her vision.

I’ve come this far; I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see where the hare is leading me.

The hare leapt forward twice, then waited for her to follow.

Amelle stared hard at the creature. It had told her a prince waited for her in the forest, and she really wanted to find a prince. I’ll come back before mother realizes I’m gone, she promised herself. In her daydreams, her prince was handsome, with broad shoulders and lean hips.

She stopped walking, imagining him standing on the path in front of her dressed in the finest royal livery. Closing her eyes, she savored the image of his full, kissable lips. In all her dreams, he would reach for her, stroking her hair. She felt it, the strong hand pulling the last of the pins from her coif to let her hair tumble around her shoulders. With gentle fingers, he would comb through her tresses. She felt the gentle weight of a man’s fingers in her hair, and slowly, she opened her eyes, imaging his heat as he stood behind her.

“Your prince awaits.” The masculine voice whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her back.

Amelle gasped. She turned and saw a man standing behind her. He reached out, caressing her hair, his hand lingering to cup a rounded buttock as he stood behind her. “Oh,” Amelle said, and then darted away. Whirling, she faced him. “Who are you?” She drank in his form. His shaggy reddish hair fell to his shoulders, a mane as thick and full as any horse’s. His chest was bare, revealing whorls of the same, reddish-brown hair between his pectorals and in a line that arrowed down towards the leather leggings he wore. The leather cupped his muscled thighs and calves, caressing like a lover to disappear into leather riding boots. Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze back to his face.

“Kanin,” he said. He stepped forward, his gaze hungry.

Amelle shivered. Beneath his stare, she felt her nipples growing hard. He stopped in front of her, and she thought she would die if he didn’t touch her. She looked at him, at his full, kissable lips, and knew she wanted to taste him. “Are you…Are you a prince?” she asked in a breathy voice.

Kanin laughed. His masculine chuckle filled the air. “If you want me to be,” he said.

Reaching for her, he caressed her cheek, sending another shiver darting through Amelle. Her limbs grew heavy, and a curious warmth began between her legs. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, the pad sliding over her lower lip. She parted her lips at the action, a kind of awareness tingling through her body. With her tongue, she tasted him. It wasn’t unpleasant, and she swirled her tongue around the end of his thumb, drawing it deeper into her mouth. Kanin stepped forward, his free arm wrapping around her waist to pull her to him.