The Warlocks Series by L.M. Somerton Blog Tour, Guest Post & Excerpts!

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Hi guys! We have L.M. Somerton popping in today with her series Warlocks, we have a great guest post from L.M. and two brilliant excerpts from both Elemental Love and Elemental Hope so check out the post and enjoy! <3 ~Pixie~ 

Elemental Love

(Warlocks 01)

L.M. Somerton

An untrained warlock is a dangerous man to love.

On his twenty-first birthday, Evrain Brookes discovers he is an elemental warlock. The spell suppressing his talent lifts and he has to get used to a whole new existence. The protection that kept him safe during his childhood is gone, his skills are wild and uncontrolled and there are those that seek to use him for their own gain.

Evrain’s grandmother is a witch, his godfather another warlock. Between them they do their best to keep Evrain on the right path. He learns that in order to gain control of his formidable powers, he will need to ‘channel’ through a life partner, a process that happens only with consent and through love. But how will he ever find a man prepared to put up with a Dominant warlock for a boyfriend?

Dominic Castine has no idea that Evrain’s grandmother sees him as a prospective partner for Evrain. He tends her garden and she teaches him about herbs—a trade-off they both enjoy. He is drawn to Evrain’s charismatic presence but doesn’t understand why he wants to drop to his knees and submit to him.

When Agatha is murdered, Evrain and Dominic are thrown together as she manipulates them from beyond the grave. Dominic becomes the pawn in a terrifying game between warlocks whose powers he barely comprehends.

In the end, lives will depend on his courage, his willingness to grant Evrain control and the power of love.

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Elemental Hope

(Warlocks 02)

A warlock’s blood gives him life. It can also bring his death.

It’s no wonder Evrain Brookes, newly fledged warlock, is feeling the strain. A coven of power-hungry witches is after his blood. Literally. A psychotic warlock wants him dead. His godfather’s training regime is about as much fun as chewing on nettles and an overweight, scarily perceptive cat has moved into his house.

His boyfriend Dominic yearns for a normal life, or at least a safer one. He accepts his role both as Evrain’s submissive partner and as the conduit through which he channels his gift—but he’s afraid for his lover, and the lengths Evrain’s enemies might go to in order to fulfill their lust for power.

When Evrain falls victim to a plot between the Octis Coven and malevolent warlock Symeon Malus, it’s up to Dominic to rescue him. With the help of the two other North American warlocks, Shadow the cat and an old enemy, Dominic takes steps to get his lover back. There’s a high price to pay and no guarantee that the risks he must take will work out but Evrain is worth going through hell for, even if it costs Dominic his life.

The dangers of research

by L.M. Somerton

I am full of admiration for authors who write historical romance. Researching the period details necessary for the setting to be believable must require immense patience and perseverance. I don’t have the temperament to be so meticulous and can’t ever imagine writing in that genre. However, the Warlocks books required much more research than usual and I’ve discovered some dangers that I thought I’d share.

  1. Its addictive

Once I start burrowing around in a subject, I can’t get enough. I end up going back to it again and again, looking for more fascinating snippets and unusual facts. The Internet is both a blessing and a curse because it feeds my addiction at little cost. Topics that might have taken months to research just a few years ago can now be reached in a matter of minutes. It’s too easy to get a ‘fix’.

  1. It brings on cravings

The Warlocks books take in parts of the US I’ve never been to. I now want to visit them all. I want to learn more about herb lore, witchcraft, wind farms and weather patterns – all subjects that come up in the books. I actively crave the taste of freshly ground coffee, just like my characters do. In fact just mentioning it again now has brought on the need… excuse me while I go and fetch a cup.

  1. it’s a form of time travel

*sips coffee* Start researching an interesting topic and suddenly three or four hours have flown by. I have lost whole days to exotic countries, indigenous tribes and birds of prey. Time that should be spent getting words on the page disappears like magic. If only this power could be harnessed and reversed, I’d be one heck of a lot more productive.

I’ve discovered that research can be fun but that I also need to learn when to stop. “Just one more article” is a banned phrase in my house but I think it’s inevitable that future work will be influenced by the topics I want to spend more time with, they just won’t involve Regency costume or Victorian industrialisation.

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Elemental Love:

“What’s with the weather today?” Evrain exclaimed, as his grandmother and godfathers turned toward him from their seats around the fire. “I swear I left Portland in the most glorious sunshine but I seem to have dragged a storm along with me.”

Coryn and Gregory exchanged glances. Agatha rose from her chair and came toward him, holding out her arms.

“Give your old grandma a hug, birthday boy.”

Evrain bent to accept Agatha’s embrace. He kissed the top of her head. She smelled of nutmeg and ginger, the scent familiar and comforting.

“Happy birthday, Evrain.”

“Thank you, Grandma.”

Coryn and Gregory queued to take their turns for hugs.

“Did you enjoy the drive over?” Coryn asked, his eyes twinkling.

“I did. Thank you both, so much. It was a great gift and a brilliant surprise. I could get used to driving around in that.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s just for the day. A special treat.”

Evrain shrugged. “I’ll take it.” He cast his gaze at each of the people he loved. They returned his scrutiny with an intensity that made him feel a little uncomfortable. “What? Do I have a smudge on my nose or something?” He walked over to the fire and peered into the mirror hanging over the mantel. As far as he could tell there were no weird marks or splotches.

“How are you feeling? Any unexplained headaches or nausea recently?” Gregory asked.

“No. My joints are a bit sore but I’m putting that down to a lack of exercise over the last few days. I was going to hike along the river this afternoon and shake off some of the lethargy.

I haven’t been sleeping well—I think I’m still getting adjusted to the time zone.” Evrain’s sense of discomfort grew. It wasn’t like Gregory to ask after his health. “Why the sudden interest in whether or not I have the sniffles? Is there a weird hereditary disease in the family that I don’t know about?”

“Why don’t you take a seat by the fire? There’s something we need to talk to you about.”

“Is this some kind of intervention?” Now he was really worried. “I’ve heard about those.

I promise I’m not a drunk, I don’t take drugs and I’m not addicted to gambling.” He gave a nervous laugh.

Gregory stood. He placed his hand on Evrain’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s nothing to worry about. In fact, it should make things a whole lot clearer for you. I think it’s time.


“Indeed. The hour doesn’t matter. I geared everything to the date.” She hummed a

strange tune under her breath.

“And a very significant date it is.” Gregory guided him to a chair, ignoring Agatha’s weird behavior.

Evrain sat, sinking into the overstuffed cushion. He’d need a cleaver to cut the atmosphere, not just a knife. Or maybe a scythe, that seemed appropriate. Agatha’s gothic mantel clock began to chime. Evrain’s senses sharpened. He could pick out every detail, every thread of the woven hearth rug. A mixture of intense aromas—spices, burning wood, candle wax, even Gregory’s aftershave—assaulted his nose. He wanted to cover his ears there was so much sound—spitting and crackling from the fire, leaves and branches thrashing outside in the wind, breathing, heartbeats. Evrain gasped. It was too much. He gripped the arms of his chair and felt every imperfection in the wood. His head swam.

“What’s… What’s happening?” He squeezed the words from between gritted teeth.

In the hearth, the fire exploded, sending huge flames shooting up the chimney. The storm outside intensified, pounding at the cabin with weapons of hail and wind. Evrain took short, sharp breaths. He sensed movement behind him and swiveled around to see the pot plants on the windowsill sprouting shoots and new leaves at incredible speed, the foliage spilling over countertops and onto the floor. This could not be happening. The pressure in his head built to an intolerable level. He was aware of Gregory’s touch, clasping his hand.

“Let it go, Evrain. Don’t be afraid.” Gregory’s voice, calm and soothing, penetrated his panic.

Evrain willed his body to relax. Multicolored lights exploded before his eyes, then everything went mercifully dark.

* * * *

“Evrain, you’re a warlock.”

“What the hell happened, Grandma? Am I ill? My head feels like a grenade exploded.

Inside it.” Evrain massaged his temples and groaned. “Wait. What did you just say?”

“I said, my dear boy, that you are a warlock. Now drink this, it will make you feel better.

You were out cold for a few minutes there.” She thrust a mug into his trembling hands.

“What is it?” He sniffed the drink with some suspicion.

“Butterbur, chamomile and ginger root tea sweetened with a little honey. My own remedy and better than any chemical you could poison your body with.”

“Does it cure insanity, because I could have sworn that you just told me I’m a warlock?”

“It doesn’t, and you are. Don’t be a child. Drink it.”

“Don’t be a— Gregory! Please tell me I’m hearing things.” He looked to his godfather who stood in front of the fire making strange movements with his fingers.

“Just hold on a minute, Evrain. I need to damp down your conflagration a little.”

“What? Wait… You’re… Oh my God. I’m in an alternate reality, aren’t I?” He addressed his question to Coryn, sitting in the chair next to him. Coryn seemed a bit pale despite the heat. His smile was full of sympathy and understanding.

“It’s true, Evrain. You are a warlock and so is Gregory. Your grandma put a suppression spell on your powers shortly after you were born, to protect you. You heard her humming? Well, she was lifting the spell. You have come into your powers. You’re very strong, Evrain. The change was too much for you and you blacked out for a few minutes.”

Elemental Hope:

“Stand up.” Evrain pointed to a spot on the grass in front of him.

Dominic sank his teeth into his bottom lip but complied. He stood in position, hands loosely clasped behind his back.

“Take your shirt off.” Evrain’s eyes glinted green and gold. “Slowly.”

Fingers trembling, Dominic unfastened the rest of his buttons. He shrugged the fabric from his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

“Hands behind your back again.” Evrain bent forward and plucked a couple of daisies.

He got to his feet. “It’s hard to improve on perfection, but I think I have a way.” He flicked one of Dominic’s exposed nipples. The sharp sting made Dominic gasp. He took an involuntary step back.

“Keep still. Your body is mine, to do with as I please, and it pleases me to make you squirm.”

Dominic locked his knees. He should object to Evrain’s arrogant claim but he only spoke the truth. He stood still and tried not to flinch as Evrain subjected his nipples to more abuse.

They stood hard and proud, the delicious ache connected directly to his cock. Evrain laid one of the flowers he’d picked against Dominic’s chest. He closed his eyes and muttered a few words under his breath, and his fingers twitched. The daisy’s slender stem wound around Dominic’s nub in a tight spiral, squeezing the already tender flesh. The flower rested in place, firmly secured. Then Evrain repeated the process with the other nipple. The bindings were just as effective as any clamp. Dominic took shallow breaths, dealing with the erotic pain as best he could.

Evrain smirked as he resumed his seat.

“You are far too pleased with yourself.” Dominic resisted the urge to tear at the constricting stems.

“Quiet, sweetheart. There are plenty of things out here I could gag you with. Now—trousers off.”

“When are you going to start calling them pants?” Dominic unfastened the stud at his waistband then lowered his zipper.

“Pants are underwear, something I suspect you aren’t wearing.” Evrain’s grin was feral.

He was right. Again. Dominic sighed but pushed his jeans down to his ankles then kicked them off his bare feet. The movement jolted his chest, giving him a painful reminder of his bound nipples. His cock jerked. Evrain licked his lips.

“I would never condone what Symeon did to you, love, but I have to admit to liking the fur-free look.”

Dominic’s cheeks heated. His hairless groin was a permanent reminder of his treatment at Symeon Malus’ hands. Apart from the burnished copper waves on his head, eyebrows and eyelashes, the rest of his body was entirely hair free. Not having to shave was poor compensation.

“Of course, I would prefer to shave you myself. That would be fun.” Evrain drummed his fingers on one thigh. “Would you be still for me, sweetheart, if I had a blade that close to your balls?”

Dominic shivered. The thought of Evrain baring him that way was highly erotic. As was standing naked in the open air in front of his fully clothed boyfriend. “Isn’t Gregory coming this morning? I don’t really want him to find me like this, Evrain.”

“We have plenty of time for what I have in mind.” Evrain lowered his fly, letting his cock poke through the opening. “Come here.”

Dominic took a few paces forward to straddle Evrain’s thighs. Evrain took a firm hold of Dominic’s dick and gave it a few tugs. “Keep your hands behind your back.” He reached down the side of his chair to pluck a long piece of grass. A few whispered words and Dominic discovered that a single blade could become an effective cock ring when magically bound around the base of his balls. Plant sap also provided a ready source of lubricant, something that Dominic was grateful for as Evrain tugged him forward.

“This stuff tingles,” Evrain said, slathering his shaft in viscous liquid.

“I appreciate your sacrifice.”

“Sarcasm is unbecoming in one so young. I want you impaled on my cock. Now.” Evrain dug his fingers into Dominic’s ass, compelling him downward. Dominic didn’t resist. Without preparation, penetration burned a little but it had only been a few hours since they’d last made love and he was still quite slick. He grunted as his ass met Evrain’s thighs.

He felt so full and the pressure on his prostate was unbearable. He had to move. He attempted to rise but Evrain held him in place for a few torturous seconds. He pulled his head down for a bruising kiss, which left Dominic gasping.

“Now, you can fuck yourself on me.”

Without the use of his hands for balance, the rise and fall motion Dominic managed was uncoordinated and jerky. Evrain let him struggle, staring into his eyes, then took control.

“Hold on to my shoulders.”

Dominic obeyed eagerly. He was desperate to come and only the makeshift cock ring was preventing his orgasm. The frustration was torment.

“Please, Evrain…”

Evrain grunted and thrust hard into his channel.

“Please!” As the wet heat of Evrain’s release filled Dominic’s passage, Evrain snapped the grass ring around Dominic’s balls with a word, allowing him to come. At last. His orgasm surged through him, his cum splattering Evrain’s shirt. His vision blurred and only Evrain’s hold kept him from losing his balance. He panted hard, sweat cooling on his skin. Evrain brushed a few strands of hair away from his face.

“Take a breath, sweetheart.”

The stems around his nipples fell away. The flood of sudden pain made him scream and come again, his body jerking. Exhausted, he slumped against Evrain. “You son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“You still love me.” Evrain sucked on his neck.

“You’re marking me.” Dominic didn’t object.

“Because you’re mine. You need a collar of love bites.”

“You don’t have time for that. I should dress. Gregory will be here any minute.”

Evrain groaned. “Don’t remind me. What possessed me to agree to his training regime?

The man’s a sadist.”

“Takes one to know one.”

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About L.M.!

L.M. Somerton author picLucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She’s fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.

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