Spotlight – Gift of the Blood God – Dark Day by SydneyWhyte

Gift of the Blood God – Dark Day (Book 2 Faelings Doom series)

Erotic fantasy story with a dash of the paranormal

As suggested by the name this story does contain some content that may not be for the faint of heart.  Discretion is advised.

Dark-Day-Cover_Sydney-White_2-inches.jpgTwenty-two days ago the world changed for Lorrie and Melory Neilson – literally.  Snatched from reality, from the safety of all that was familiar, the twins were set adrift in a world of mystery; primitive and dangerous, a world conjured by insanity; a place, a situation they should not believe in.  A place called Abod le A’nor.

Pawns of intrigue and mysticism, the women had been separated from each other, for a purpose as yet unknown.  Who had drawn them?  Who in this world was there to put their faith in?

Could Lorrie trust her captors?  The enigmatic and lethally enticing Captain, Tavis Eagle’s son, or the stalwart, handsome Mavishan traitor, Simeon Souls-ease?  These men who had taken her against her will and yet had become all that was familiar; taken her on a journey that with this dawn’s light was now drawing to a fateful conclusion.  What awaited her in the Faeling Wood?  The fabled home of Tishan, and the fearsome ruler of their clans.

The fragile attachment Melory had developed for Kane, son of Dolan, Dreamer of Mavishan was that day sorely to be tested.  Reeling from a devastating attack, the people of his village struck out with violence and malice.  She had watched him struck down, felt hands imprison her.  Would either survive the wrath of Mavishan judgment?

Torn by loyalties, plagued by disbelief, drawn irrevocably to sensuality and desire, how would the twins survive the promise of this ominous and fatefully dark day?

Please note: – this series contains swearing, sexual content and adult themes – suitable for persons over the age of 18 years


purchase links


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“’Tis called the Fae Wood,” Simeon had advised and she had turned her head as the words whispered a warm breath over her sensitive ear, her cheek almost caressing his lips with an intimate shudder for his closeness.  God he had lovely lips!  Equal to, or if she was honest with herself, even lovelier than those forbidding, perfect lips pressed taut about their tense leader’s mouth.  And yet weren’t that man’s the features she caught herself studying more and more often as the days had passed since her rescue from the gorge, not Simeon’s.  It was a morbid fascination, blatant curiosity and yes, tinged with fear for she had been unable to understand it.  Why did she find herself looking at the man, that rough, hard, prohibitive exterior that shouted a cold and collected demeanour? What did she expect to see; hints of fiery passion churning hot enough to consume her?  No!  Of course not!  Then, why?  Why did she find herself doing that very thing so often?

They called him Tavis Eagle-born and while it seemed a strange title to Lorrie, a slightly primitive moniker, it felt eminently appropriate.  Oh, dear, Lorrie had shaken herself and abruptly pulled away from Simeon only to turn into the flare of fiery brilliant green eyes that sent a blazing surge of guilt through her as Tavis came to a halt beside them.  The man drew her attention like a scab beneath her fringe-line, to be thoughtlessly picked at with no effect than a further itch, prolonging the satisfaction of more pain and affliction…





About the author

Sydney Whyte is a ground breaking new talent to arise in New Zealand erotic literature.  A vivacious reader and passionate creative writer since early childhood, she began writing paranormal and fantasy stories as early as ten years old. As a shy and reserved child, she immersed herself in writing complex, fantastical worlds full of magic, mystery and intrigue as a means of escapism.

When she reached her teenage years, thoughts of love and romance entered her life with an obsession known only to the hormonal and young, her writing took a significantly saucier (although highly naive) turn. Her increasingly shy demeanour and strict upbringing allowed her few opportunities to openly explore her youthful sexuality, writing became an important means for shaping her philosophies on love, men and romance.

As she set out on her own into the world she never ceased to write, but her life, prose and perspective changed drastically. Widowed at twenty three, re married by twenty-seven, and a single mother of two before thirty five, her untainted youthful outlook on love, life and sex gave way to the exploration of the interconnectedness between beauty and pain, sensuality and shame, and love and despair, that shapes the unique human experience.

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