Underlayes is another dimension where all sorts of nocturnal creatures reside; witches, vampires, fae, shifters, werewolves…… The dimension was created by all of these creatures working side by side to escape the scrutiny and danger to their very existence that stemmed from the human world. Humans tend to fear things they do not understand and tend to try and eliminate anything that they fear. Even though these nocturnal beings were actually humanoid themselves as well, just different, more enhanced, than their day bearing brethren… Amongst those beings lies a very powerful witch, Tialanna, who is to become the queen of all Underlayes witches. Thinking the worst part of her life was the fact that she was betrothed to a complete stranger while in love with someone else. She is in for a rude awakening when she discovers the truth of who, and what, she truly is. Tialanna is about to learn the truth behind several lies, because not only does her life depend on it, but so does the fate of the family she never even knew she had. But hey, life would probably just be boring if she didn’t have to deal with elemental witches, vampires, demons, sorcerers, bindings, spells and whatnot, right? ***This book is intended for mature audiences only as there will be both graphic violence and graphic sex.***
Witch Wars, Underlayes Book 1 by T. A. Moorman was hands down the best novel I’ve had the pleasure of reading for a while now! It may be in part that it’s my favorite genre, but there was so much more! The way the authors’ voice was strong yet spunky was fascinating to watch it play out. The main Character, Tialanna, was so strong and distinguished because she was raised the Princess but she also had a humorous attitude. Her vocabulary was opposite of what you would consider royalty to have, which made her all the more enchanting. She is betrothed to another witch of high status, her family hoping to gain more power. Tia finds out she is not only witch but vampire too. That is a sure death sentence but to top it off, she has a long lost twin sister. With demons, witches, vampires and werewolves at play in this first installment, the action, suspense and drama suck you in to the point of not putting the book down until you can no longer see. There are explicit sexual scenes in this book and a bit of a cliffhanger. I’m recommending this book to all paranormal romance fans, 18+. I cannot wait for the next installment to come out! I give this a 5-star rating. *Copy gifted to me in exchange for an honest review*
“Yes. No. Just stop!” I shouted in his face, barely able to think, to breathe, “Tonight is the beginning of my courtship with Bran. We have to stop.” Even though stopping is the last thing I want.
“You think Bran can make you feel like this?” He damn near growled as he grabbed the back of my head, gripping my hair and rubbing his face in the crook of my neck. He inhaled deeply, sending chills down my spine, “I can smell your lust, Tia, your desire for me. ME, not him.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I replied weakly.
“Yes the hell it does matter. I am not giving up that easily, Tia. If this is the last chance I have with you, I am taking full advantage. I will make it so that every time you look at him, you will wish it was me.” He ground out each word slowly and precisely through clenched teeth, “Every time he beds you, it will be my face you’ll see, my hands you’ll long for, my name on the tip of your tongue.”
And then he was kissing me again, harder and faster than before. His tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. Our tongues twisting together in a wild exotic dance. My body felt like it was on fire and so did his. Then we were sliding down to the floor to our knees. He gently laid me on my back, never breaking our kiss, my legs opening seemingly of their own accord to accommodate his berth. Slowly, oh so slowly, he broke our lingering kiss. He was on top of me, hands on the floor like he was doing a push up, eyes black as pitch; I could see my blazing eyes reflected in those dark pools.
Still balancing on one arm and looking into my eyes, he was sliding his other hand down my body pulling off my pants. Very slowly he slid his hand up the inside of my thighs, spreading them apart. His hand crept up my inner thigh until he found that spot that let him know just how hot and wet I was for him. Then he was nipping and licking his way down my neck while flicking his thumb over my clit, making my body shudder against his. When he found my breast and took as much of it into his mouth as he could, he drove two fingers inside me. He then released my breast and kissed his way down to my naval, licking delicately down toward more sensitive regions, all the while his fingers caressing, rubbing, and probing. Suddenly, just when I thought I was about to explode with pleasure, his fingers were replaced with his tongue, going deeper than I thought was possible, and he was drinking me like I was the finest wine.
Somewhere in all of that, he must have taken off his own pants because, suddenly, he was once again hovering over me, and with our gazes locked he thrust every inch of himself inside of me (and trust me, there were a lot of inches). Leaving me gasping for air and wanting to beg for more.
“If you want me to stop, tell me now and I will.” He snarled, pulling out slowly, making a small sound escape from my lips, until only the tip of him was left inside, “If I am only allowed this one last time, allow me at least this much to keep with me. Allow me to have every piece of you, if only once more.” He gave another deep, powerful thrust, making me cry out, “Allow me to give you every inch of myself for just one final time, allow me to feel every hot, sweet spot that is all you. Even if you do go on with this foolish plan, he will only have your body. Only I will forever own your heart.”
He kissed me again, then said, “I swear, you will regret leaving me.”
“That’s right, child, drink.”
I sucked deeper and deeper, I couldn’t stop. It was like getting a taste of something I had been missing my entire life. Just when his wound began to close, I felt my own canines sharpen and lengthen the tiniest bit and sink into his neck. What the fuck?!
I could move my arm again, but instead of pushing him – as my brain kept telling me – I reached up to grip his hair and pull him closer to me.
I should be feeling disgusted at this point.
Instead this just felt, right.
His blood was flowing down my throat, with each swallow I pulled from him, it seemed to fill an emptiness I hadn’t known was there. And no, I don’t mean just my stomach. It seemed to be going to my limbs, strengthening me. It was sliding down so easily, so naturally, so…
No, this isn’t right. I am NOT a vampire! This is just some sick fucked up dream.
“ENOUGH!” He shouted, commanded.
Slowly I pulled away from him.
“I only hope this will be all you need.”
Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my chest, I looked down and saw blood.
I woke up, still chained to the wall. I heard howling and fighting outside of the room I was being held captive. I looked down to see a dagger sticking out from my chest, and one of my captors right in front of me. I looked up, staring him right in the eye with mine blazing red.
“You missed my heart you sick son of a bitch!” I screamed as I ripped the chains right out of the wall, willing the dagger out of my chest, into my hand, and went for his throat.
With no further ado he did just as he said and flashed us directly to the bathing chambers. What I didn’t realize until he had explained as much was that they weren’t just any chambers but my very own. Apparently I already had a living quarters within the castles walls, and not just something that had been slapped together upon my arrival. My father had them made for me at birth alongside Anya’s, and everything had been changed over the years whenever hers were to keep appropriate to whatever age or phase I may have been going through. Chandler told me, “Your father has always loved you completely, deeply and unconditionally. And wanted you to feel at home from the moment you entered these grounds, be it the time in which it is was told you would, or sooner. Everyone who has had the honor of being within his circle knew he always held out hope for the latter, making sure everything catered to your liking within the walls of your chambers.”
Sitting back in the immaculate tub, which was large enough to fit at the very least six more beings within, I didn’t doubt any of those words. My other ‘father’ thought it a waste to have things such as this, nothing too overt or unnecessary in our bedrooms or bathrooms. While they were a nice size no way in the worlds could they ever be considered living quarters. He felt if we had more than what we truly needed it would make us into obnoxious spoiled brats that would care nothing for their people. From what I’ve seen of Anya thus far, I’m thinking he was way off point with that. Morals can be taught regardless of what one has and doesn’t have. And I mean, come on, what’s the point of being a princess when you can’t even live like one?
Water under the bridge now I guess, a bridge I still have to cross again though. But, it’s still amazing to me how two beings of damn near the same station in their species can be so very different, yet be in love with the very same woman. Made me wonder that much more about Mom too. Was she the same with the both of them? Or was she someone different depending on which of them she was with? I really needed to speak to her about a lot of things, and the longer I went without doing so just made more questions be added to the seemingly never ending list that just kept growing in my head. My poor brain just may explode very soon.
The main question I had though, was how could she as a mother just let Anya go like that? How could she look at me all of those years without going stark raving mad not knowing what her identical daughter was doing, or how she was doing? My father, while what he did was indeed conniving and manipulative invading my dreams like that, it was his way of still being with me even while he wasn’t allowed to be anywhere near me physically. Did my mother do the same with Anya, or something similar? There were just way too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. At this rate my head probably would literally explode very soon.
Instead of worrying about every little thing like I usually do, I decided to just sink deeper into the tub I had been blessed with, then proceeded to lather my body and my hair with the wonderfully smelling washes that were left in here for me. Which were mostly lavender. Guess someone wanted to make sure I was in a nice and calming mood for the conversation that was inevitably lurking ahead. Ah well, this bath was feeling and smelling too damn good to truly care about any of that right now. The best part? Someone, I’m assuming Anya since I hadn’t run into any other witches as of yet around here, bespelled the water so that it stayed at that perfect temperature. One didn’t get much better than that.
After finally deciding I was as clean and relaxed as I was going to get, and that I had pushed my luck enough having not been interrupted, I stepped out onto the cashmere bath rug and dried off on the largest, softest, fluffiest bath sheet I had ever had the pleasure of using.
When I spied the three way full length mirror off to the side I walked over to it, thinking it high time that I see for my own eyes what physical changes had taken place on my body. I felt the changes, sure; stronger, faster, more confident, less worrisome of what others thought, but I still hadn’t seen them.
My eyes went wide at the sight before me. Not that they were extremely drastic changes or anything like that. But the subtleties were indeed there and made me truly feel like a brand new version of me; my breasts a tad perkier and a lot fuller, still had some belly fat around my midsection which I had come to accept as a part of me a long time ago, my muscles slightly larger and more defined. What was most noticeable were my teeth, obviously, and my eyes. They were much more crimson than brown now with a flame that seemed to simmer in the back, continuously flickering in and out. I absently wondered if Anya’s were the same, I hadn’t exactly been gazing into her eyes that deeply. The eyes and fangs were something I definitely wouldn’t be able to hide from he-who-I-thought-was-my-father. Another thing to worry about when the time came, and not right now.
Right then I had other things to worry about, because when I opened the doors to my bedroom suite? Mom and Dad were standing in two separate corners in my bedroom, waiting for me. Guess it was time we had that talk. Hey, at least there wasn’t any bloodshed, yet.
About The Author:
T. A. Moorman
A mother of five beautiful children, but by far more than just that. T. A. Moorman is an artist, a violinist, a seamstress, a crafter, a writer, a blogger, a reviewer, a dark confidant and a darkly dangerous, fiercely protective friend.