eBook Details


Hunter Forsaken

Series: Wild Hunt , Book 2.0
By: Nancy Corrigan | Other books by Nancy Corrigan
Published By: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: Feb 16, 2016
ISBN # 9781619232594
Word Count: 74,780
Heat Index     
Eligible Price: $5.50

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Epub, Mobipocket (.mobi)

Categories: Romance>Paranormal/Horror Romance>Erotic Romance


Hunter Forsaken (Wild Hunt) by Nancy Corrigan - Romance>Erotic Romance eBook

A vow to the dead…the mark of the Hunt…a love with one chance to survive.

Wild Hunt, Book 2

In the slice of a moment, Ian Callahan lost everything he cared about—a deed done by his own hand. He awakens on the edge of sanity, chained in his own personal hell. He is to be the newest rider in the Wild Hunt, if he can learn to control the rage and guilt that consume him.

Then…a whiff of vanilla. The face of a lover he’s seen only in his dreams. He doesn’t know her name, only that she stirs the hungry beast within him.

For a millennium, Tegan and her sibling riders of the Wild Hunt were imprisoned, suffering under a curse meant for the Unseelie Court. Though her body is free, she carries the curse with her—and the additional burden of finally knowing the name of her destined mate. A human named Ian Callahan.

He’s her Trojan horse, the only one who can heal her heart. Just one last challenge stands in the way of claiming each other, once and for all. Failure means facing eternity the incomplete halves of a whole.

Warning: Contains a hero who’s more than just the total…package. And a daughter of the Underworld who thought she knew what Hell was…until she fell in love. Boundaries of monogamy pushed, pulled, stretched—but never broken.
Reader Rating:   0.0 Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating:   Not rated
Copyright © 2016 Nancy Corrigan
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Ian Callahan panted through the rage gripping him. Something had caught his attention. He closed his eyes, blocking out the view of the rock-carved walls of his cell, and listened. The sound of a heartbeat reached his ears. It raced. So did his. Excitement fed his heart’s rapid cadence. He hadn’t been able to focus on anything beyond the wrath consuming him in days, weeks maybe. He’d lost track of how long he’d been chained spread-eagle to his bed.

He sucked in a deep breath, desperate to hold on to the awareness the person’s presence offered. The rich scent of vanilla drugged him. He moaned, or tried to, at the very least, but his roughened voice garbled the sound. The feeling behind it remained the same. He recognized the fragrance. It was her.

His dream lover.

She’d returned in his worst hour, to tempt him. Arouse him. Make him beg.

The brown-eyed minx had ruined him. In all the years she’d visited him, she never fulfilled her wicked promises. Never gave him relief. She always disappeared before he could explode. She’d made him question his sanity and his sexuality. A growl crawled up his throat, even as blood rushed south, thickening his dick. It tented his shorts.

He groaned. His cock was so damn hard. Thinking about her always aroused him. Chained to the bed, he couldn’t even jerk off. He yanked on the chains and snarled.

Her gasp carried over his angry sounds.

She watched him.

Did she want him too? He waited for the door to open, for her to come to him. Seconds passed with only her quickened heartbeat betraying her interest. He dragged in more vanilla-scented air but couldn’t pick up on her arousal. She wasn’t close enough, and his Huntsman’s sense of smell confused him more often than not. It was too new, much like the emotion that had landed him in Hell.

“Angel?” He didn’t care how she’d teased him before, or if she continued to do so. He needed her. “Come to me.”

He held his breath.

The clunk of boots answered him, each thump fading in volume.

“No! Don’t leave me.”

She did. She abandoned him. Again.

“Forsaken, always forsaken.”

Her love, her passion, her soul—it belonged to him. How? Why? He didn’t know. The truth remained. She was his heaven, the only one a bastard like him would ever find, yet he feared she’d always remain just out of reach.

He roared his frustration and gave himself over to the rage consuming him.

* * * * *

Tegan paced the length of the living room in the Huntsmen’s new estate. She’d walked out of the fairies’ prison a week ago, but freedom had not been sweet for her. Guilt, jealousy and sadness had left her on edge. The emotions had no place in her heart. To give in to them would likely push her into the abyss, where only rage ruled. She’d lived there once before. She had no desire to revisit it.

Her siblings, the other riders in the Wild Hunt, had sensed her unease. They’d tried to coax her into exploring the modern world. She’d refused. Losing herself in booze or meaningless sex wouldn’t help her deal with the fallout of her elder brother’s revelation.

Not only was her fantasy lover real, he was also the newest rider of the Wild Hunt.

She paused in her restless loop around the room and faced the fireplace. A roaring blaze filled the hearth. The oppressive warmth it offered heated her body. Sweat beaded on her face. She licked a droplet off her lip and stepped closer, relishing the fire’s comfort.

She wasn’t chilled. The October weather in the Catskill Mountains of New York was mild. No, the blaze turning the room into a sauna was necessary to keep Rhys from cornering her and demanding an explanation for her behavior. Besides Calan, her leader in the Hunt, Rhys was the only other Hunter who had any authority over her.

The fact that the Huntsmen had just been released from their personal hells should be reason enough to explain her discontent. It wasn’t, not in Rhys’s eyes. They had a duty to fulfill and a curse to break. Still, after dying over and over for a millennium to ensure the barrier to Hell remained intact, she deserved a small reprieve. A few days to adjust to freedom. Some time to get past her heartache. Was it so much to ask?

Yes. Yes, it is. The clock is ticking, and our time is running out.

Frustration choked her. She turned her hand over and stared at the jagged black line bisecting her palm. Her breath caught. The mark, the visual reminder of the curse she carried, appeared thicker than it had when she’d first stepped out of her prison.


The squeak from the door forced back her concern. She’d worry about what the change meant when she had time alone to think. Her siblings hadn’t given her much over the past week, and the woodsy scent of a campfire which swept into the room suggested another brother planned to meddle in her affairs. She couldn’t tell by smell alone which one braved her fury. They all carried the scent of Hell with them.

She gripped the mantel, refusing to meet her brother’s probing gaze, and peered into the image of the male who’d haunted her for years. Unable to stop herself, she took Ian’s picture from its treasured spot on the shelf and let his features tease her.

Long, thick lashes framed the hazel eyes she’d fantasized about staring into while he loved her body. Full lips she wanted on hers were curved into a smile she suspected had broken many females’ hearts. Combined with his rough features and unkempt hair, he was simply…


She brushed her finger over his frozen image. Warmth pooled low.

“Ready to talk?”

Rhys’s voice shocked her enough to break her focused study of the human Huntsman. She returned the framed photo to its resting spot, then glanced over her shoulder. Her brother’s silver eyes drew her attention. He watched her intently, and the curiosity in his focused stare worried her. She didn’t want him to take any interest in her affairs. He’d hound her until he uncovered every last detail. No way would she allow that. She’d walked in the shadow of shame once. She had no desire to be on the receiving end of his pity ever again.

“I hadn’t expected to see you here.” With her gaze locked on to her brother’s pale silver eyes, she motioned toward the flames crackling inches from her legs. “Is the fire not hot enough to keep you away?”

A tic developed along Rhys’s jaw, the only hint of his discomfort. She knew exactly what the sight of the hungry flames did to him. Repeatedly being burned alive was the death he’d endured while imprisoned. She sympathized with him, but each of them had suffered. They’d all emerged half-crazed too. Duty, honor and stubbornness demanded they endure and continue functioning. So they did. Simple as that.

He moved closer, maybe not as confidently as she’d normally expect from him, but he closed the distance. She had to give him points for that.

A foot away, he stopped with hands balled into white-knuckled fists. “Why should it? The death it offers is like an old friend. I do not fear its return.”

She laughed. Rhys’s stoic expression fueled her bitterness. She stood on her tiptoes, the additional inches not bringing her close to his face. It didn’t deter her. Being the smallest of the Huntsmen never had.

“Liar. I hear the rapid beat of your heart. You fear it.”

He bent closer. His deadened gaze held her frozen in place. “I fear nothing, little sister.”

She smirked. “Prove it.”

Why she taunted him, she didn’t know. Actually, she did. Rhys had no doubt come to talk to her about Ian, not her mood. Rhys couldn’t care less how miserable she was, as long as she rode in the Hunt.

They needed every one of the Huntsmen to defeat their enemies, and Ian had proved his worth in battle, even if he’d only ridden a couple of days before succumbing to his rage. The obligation to help him deal with the weight and pressure of his new role belonged to all of them, yet none had been able to reach him.

No one, besides me.

Hunter Forsaken

By: Nancy Corrigan