Hi guys! We have Hurri Cosmo Popping in today with her new release To Save His Prince, we have a great excerpt and a fantastic $25 Amazon GC giveaway, so guys check out the post and enter the giveaway! ❤ ~Pixie~
To Save His Prince
Emory is a humble kitchen servant intent on working hard so he can continue to earn his daily crust of bread. It is a thankless, back-breaking job, but it is exactly where Emory wants to be. In the magnificent West Quay castle. Because that is where the incredibly handsome, extremely talented Crown Prince Riffyn lives. The beautiful, kind, and attentive man stole Emory’s heart years before when he rescued him and his mother from a band of thieves. Now Emory’s only wish is to be close, so he can simply admire and serve the man.
But a great evil walks the halls of the castle, and Emory stumbles on a heinous plot to not only kill the prince but a possible plan to overthrow the Kingdom. A wicked scheme that includes the use of magic. Of course, being a lowly servant, no one believes Emory when he tries to raise the alarm, including the prince, who has been commanded to choose a bride now, or one will be chosen for him. Even as Emory’s heart breaks for his prince, he has to find a way to save him. But how, when no one, not even the king, the prince’s own father, can be trusted?
They had knocked the basket out of Emory’s mother’s hands and the contents had rolled in the dirt. The bread had been wrapped in a thin cloth, so had been protected, and the vegetables could be washed, but it was humiliating there was little to nothing Emory could do to stop what was happening. There were three of the ruffians circling both him and his mother, two held short blades, but all of them were large and intimidating.
Emory hated his thin body. He labored hard working their small farm, tending to the livestock and keeping starvation at bay, but even at the age of fifteen, he had not developed the muscles young men his age had, doing the very same things he did. Still, he had to at least try to make sure this encounter with these thieves did not go any farther.
“Leave us alone! We’ve done you no wrong!”
“Emory!” his mother whispered harshly. “Hush, boy.” She tried to push him behind her which was even more embarrassing.
“That’s right, Emory,” one of the ruffians taunted. “Hide behind ye mama’s petticoat befores we cuts you up and feeds you to the bog rats.”
“Yeah, sonny. Theys mighty hungry this time of year,” jeered another. Then the vile man’s attention went back to his mother. “Course, we have a different activity planned for mama.”
They all laughed as the circle they had formed around them became smaller and smaller, all three of them staring like starving animals at his mother. She gripped Emory’s wrist even as he tried to raise his arm to shield her. “No, Emory! Please do nothing foolish!”
“Mom! Stop!” He stepped out beside her. “I need to protect you. I can fight them.”
But she was crying and the tears distracted him for a crucial moment, his heart wrenching. It was why the hit to his left side was unexpected. It had also been so hard Emory was suddenly face down in the same dirt as the radishes. Even as kicks rained down on him he could hear his mother’s screams and the tearing of fabric.
“Mom! No! Leave my mother alone!” He could do nothing more than to protect his own head. He was going to be no help at all to his mother. What did he do?
“Unhand her, you scum!”
Only in that moment had Emory been aware he had heard horse hooves thundering the ground. He just hadn’t realized it could have heralded a hero coming to rescue his mother and him. Noting the man who had been mercilessly kicking him was thankfully no longer interested in him, Emory rolled and gained his feet. It was then Emory was able to gaze up at the magnificent man who had just arrived. Dressed in chainmail and a royal blue cloak, he slipped from his incredible steed with agility and grace, drawing his sword in a motion so fluid it was like a dance.
“Who da hell are you?” one of the three who had attacked them snarled. Those same three now surrounded the beautiful man who was clearly a noble. What someone like that was doing here in Wybrook Emory had no idea. But he was thrilled the man had stopped the attack on his mother. Running to her sitting on the ground trying to cover herself having had the top of her dress nearly torn from her, Emory quickly took his own tunic off and slipped it over his mother’s head. Then he helped her to her feet. “Are you okay”
“Yes,” she stammered. “Are you?”
“Of course,” he scoffed, disgusted with himself he had needed help to protect his mother. Emory could hear the fight going on behind him as he turned to see if he could at least do something. But his mother pulled on his arm, keeping him next to her.
“Please, Emory. You’re hurt enough.”
Hurt? He glanced down at his naked chest and saw the beginnings of bruises, a few cuts and abrasions, but that was it. “I’m fine, Mother.”
But she held fiercely onto him which was fine. The nobleman was having no trouble all by himself. The man seemed to be toying with the three. The two with short blades jabbed at him menacingly but he appeared to be avoiding them with ease. The one without a blade was laid out flat, his attempts to attack the man obviously failing miserably. The blue-cloaked nobleman was as remarkable with a sword as he was to gaze at.
“Who is he?” his mother whispered.
“I have no idea, mother. But he’s amazing.”
Suddenly, as if the man had tired of his inept opponents, with a twist of his sword he knocked one short blade out of one of the ruffian’s hands, and with another swing, the second blade went flying. The would-be rapists screamed in protest but decided they, too, had had enough and ran off, including the man who had been on the ground.
The man sheathed his sword as he turned to both Emory and his mother. “Are you alright?” He held out a hand to Emory’s mother who took it. The man bent low and kissed her hand. Emory watched as his mother blushed.
“Oh yes, thanks to you, kind sir.”
Just then two men, also clothed in chainmail and cloaked in blue, came thundering in. They were equally as large as the man who saved them, but nowhere near as handsome.
“Your Highness! What happened?” The lead man unmounted even before his horse came to a full stop, his sword having been already drawn.
“Only a small altercation. Three ruffians were abusing these fine folks and I stopped them. Fear not. All is well. They ran off on foot – that way.” He pointed into the woods where the three had escaped.
“Do we go after them, my lord?”
“Absolutely. They attempted a foul deed and must be punished.”
The man bowed his head quickly, mounted up and both men took off in the direction the three ruffians had gone. Their savior turned back to Emory and his mother. “May I ask your names?”
Your Highness? My lord? Emory knew his eyes were wide and it was at that instant the beautiful man met his stare. There was a shock that ran through Emory’s body and he knew right then he would never forget that moment. “Emory… Emory Murran. My… my mom, Ekar Murran… my lord.”
“Emory and Ekar Murran. I am pleased to meet you. I am Prince Riffyn Van Corby of West Quay.” He bowed and Emory’s mom, her eyes wide as well, curtsied best she could. Emory simply stood there not knowing what to do. Finally, his mother pulled on his arm and Emory bowed awkwardly.
“Now, are you sure you are alright? May I escort you home?” His gaze shifted to Emory and he narrowed his eyes as he took in the battle wounds Emory had collected. The man reached out to touch a particular bruise and Emory flinched. Self-conscious of his bare skinny teenage chest Emory swiftly bent to retrieve the scattered vegetables and the wrapped bread. He hurriedly stuck them back in his mother’s basket, pulling it away from her as she reached out to take it from him. The basket would hide at least some of his half-nakedness.
“No, mom, I can carry it,” he muttered.
Seeming to understand Emory’s embarrassment, the prince winked at him. “You are a good son.”
“Thank you, my lord.” His face heated up as he shifted his gaze downward. He was attempting respect, to not gape directly into the prince’s beautiful blue eyes, but now he was staring at the prince’s well-developed body and wished he, too, could have muscles like that. But something else entered his brain at that moment as well.
He was wondering about the warm, gorgeous flesh the chainmail covered. He wanted almost desperately to touch the naked chest underneath, be crushed to it by those strong arms.
It wasn’t a shock. He had had such thoughts about the male body before. While all his friends were talking about girls, Emory realized he had no interest in them. But he had found himself ogling the blacksmith’s son once, while he worked, swinging his hammer in the summer heat. Emory stared as he removed his shirt that day, wiped the sweat from his face with it and tossed it aside. Emory had been mesmerized by the sight of the man’s shiny physique, wishing he could be closer, actually see more of his body. Even smell him. Luckily, the man had not caught him gawking.
However, this was the first time he felt compelled to act on his thoughts. To actually touch.
He knew now his face was as red as it could be because his skin was on fire.
Suddenly there was a hand under his chin, lifting his gaze.
“There is no shame in needing help with those three,” the prince expressed gently. “You were unarmed, and I am well-trained with a sword.”
Emory nodded best he could with the prince’s hand still holding his chin. “Oh my, yes, you are. And…and thank you, my lord,” he whispered.
The prince smiled. “No need to thank me,” he assured, his deep voice shivering Emory’s very core. “I am sworn to protect my citizens. And do not fear those men. My knights will find them, and they will pay for what they attempted here today. They will not bother you again. I will make sure of it.”
Emory couldn’t help but gaze into the prince’s beautiful blue eyes with immense gratitude. “I have no doubt. You are magnificent.” Realizing what he had said he quickly added, “With… with that sword,” he gushed.
The prince laughed. “Thank you. Like I said, I am well-trained.” He stepped back as he gave Emory a once-over. “You are young. You could learn. If you ever come to the castle, let me know. I can see that you are taught.”
“The castle? Me?”
“Of course, Emory Murran. I invite you personally.” He gave a slight bow as he gazed intently at Emory. Except there was something about the prince’s contemplation that made Emory tremble, even breathless.
But then people were arriving, crowding in on the prince and soon he was swallowed up in the mass. Emory and his mother, after explaining a dozen times what had happened, made their way home.
But Emory never forgot the invitation to come to the castle.
Hurri Cosmo lives in Minnesota where she holds tight to the idea that there, where it’s cold a good part of the year, she won’t age as fast. Yep, she avoids the truth as much as she avoids mirrors. But one of the reasons she loves writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure. Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find. Oh, she doesn’t mind “real life” and she does try to at least keep it in mind when she writes her stories, but she truly loves creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every – single – time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason she loves reading this genre, too. Give her a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and her computer, whether she is reading or writing, and she will entertain herself for hours. The fact she actually gets paid to do it is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake.