The release of Light's Bane (Daughters of the People, Book 2) is just a few weeks away and I'm about to burst with excitement. I knew as soon as I finished The Prophecy that Dani Nehring, with her eternal zest for life, would be the main character in the second book. Dave Winstead's stalwart personality turned out to be a perfect counterpoint to Dani's more effervescent one.
Light's Bane takes a complete turn from the more sedate nature of the first book. Whereas The Prophecy is suspense with a heavy romantic plot and some paranormal elements (or possibly even romantic suspense), Light's Bane is most definitely in the romance category; it can still be categorized as suspense, but there's a heavier emphasis on the paranormal elements.
As far as the romance goes, Light's Bane is most definitely steamier. The following excerpt (below the asterisks) illustrates exactly this point. Maya and James shared a gentle love; Dani and Dave's relationship is hot.
By the way, this scene is currently the one featured in the back matter of The Prophecy, and it's one of my favorites. Hope y'all enjoy it!
***
Dave sat on the sofa, watching Dani’s TV while waiting for her to get out of the shower. After their staples run and a quick supper of sandwiches, he’d called his folks just to say hello, and listened to his mother ramble about grandbabies and church socials and his dad grump about the weather and crop futures.
Some things never changed, except that every year it seemed his sisters popped out another baby. If not them, then a cousin or a neighbor or a friend of the family. His mother had dropped hints that it was time for him to settle down and give her a grandchild. He hadn’t told her that he thought he might’ve found someone to do that with. First he had to convince Dani that he hadn’t kissed another woman.
Stubborn as she was, that might take a while.
He heard muffled sounds coming from behind her bedroom door. A few minutes later, she walked out. He twisted on the sofa, intending to ask her if he could take a turn in the shower, and his brain fritzed out at the sight of her.
She wore a white long-sleeved shirt that tied under her breasts, leaving the front gaping to expose the edges of a black lace bra. Her midriff was bare to the waist of a pleated plaid skirt that was just long enough to cover the essentials. Sheer black thigh-high stockings encased her slender legs, held up by a garter belt, the straps showing against the stretch of bare skin visible between the bottom of her skirt and the top of the stockings. Her shoes looked like platform Mary Janes. She’d pulled her hair into pigtails and put on just enough make-up to pass for a Goth vampire hooker doing a school girl imitation.
He zeroed in on her navel, where a silver ring glittered against her smooth, tanned skin. That hadn’t been there the day before. If it had, he’d have already had his mouth there, tonguing it.
His mouth went dry and he stood slowly, the neurons in his brain firing just enough to keep him from stumbling over his own feet.
“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” he said, his voice strangled from the desire rushing through him, hardening his body. “You’re not wearing that out.”
“Yes, I am.” She raised an eyebrow and walked past, her hips swaying provocatively, causing the skirt to swish against her bottom. She bent over to gather the pages of sightings and contacts together, and her skirt rode up, baring enough skin to threaten his suddenly precarious control.
“Are you wearing underwear?” he blurted out, and clamped his mouth shut with a wince.
“Shower’s open if you want.” She looked over her shoulder, still bent over. “I laid some clothes out for you.”
She turned back to the table and reached for her laptop, and the skirt rode higher, revealing a narrow strip of black satin between the completely nude cheeks of her bottom. A vision popped into his head, of her bent all the way over on the table, her bottom bared to his gaze; of pulling that strip aside and burying himself in her; of sliding in and out of that tight, wet heat until she begged for release.
“We don’t have all night, Dave.”
Her voice broke through the vision, scattering it enough for him to focus. Lilith. Bars. Shower.
Right.
He turned on his heel, walking slowly enough to accommodate the erection that had popped up at the sight of her in that outfit, and stripped off his clothes as he went, not caring if she saw the effect she’d had on him.
When he saw the outfit she’d put on the bed for him, he groaned out a laugh. Black t-shirt, tight jeans, and the motorcycle boots she’d insisted he bring from New York. A fisherman’s cap rested on top of the stack of clothes and he recognized it as something she’d knit. An odd wave of tenderness wove through the gripping need, ratcheting his desire higher until it burned through him.
Please God, let her forgive him soon.