Murdering Eve by Kelly L Lee

(about this author)

  • Four Realms Series, Book One

    Exiled to magic-barren Earth Realm, Whit Blackstone has resigned himself to never seeing his family or clan again. But when a mysterious woman appears, wielding as much power as the goddess who banished him, primal desire and his desperation to return home collide.

    Immortal? After twenty-nine years of believing herself human, Eve Moore can't wrap her brain around the word. But even immortals can't always cheat death, especially if a bloodthirsty God of War threatens your soul. Betrayed and hunted by a relentless assassin, newly immortal Eve Moore has no choice but to trust the heart-stopping stranger she's been tasked to find and return to Olympus.

    As their chemistry ignites, Eve discovers the depth of her emerging powers, and the inescapable connection she and Whit share.  When the time comes, will Eve hand him over and walk away? Or will the long buried secrets of her past doom both their lives, and their very souls?


    Eve moved a little closer and tilted her head to the side, unabashedly inspecting him.

    “You don’t look like a troll. You being a werewolf is easier to believe.”

    Whit laughed. “If you knew any real werewolves, you wouldn’t say that. I’m curious—what do you think a troll should look like?”

    “You know…short, squat.”

    She smiled, and warmth from her aura blanketed him. Whit felt their connection reopen. All traces of her fear vanished.

    “Actually, I am short, compared to other trolls. I’ve been called a runt before.”

    “Trolls have warts.”

    He looked at her with mock solemnity. “I could have warts.”

    She snorted. “Trolls live under bridges.”

    “I like to fish under bridges. I even camp there if I’m out too late and forget my tent.”

    Eve put her hands on her hips. “Trolls abduct and eat children.”

    He grinned. “Only if I’m really, really hungry.”

    Her small fist shot out and smacked him in the shoulder. He laughed and grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him.

    Turning an angelic face up to his, she said, “Trolls are ugly.”

    He leaned down and inhaled her scent. He couldn’t help himself. “Do you think I’m ugly, Eve?”

    She allowed him closer, and lowered her voice to a sexy murmur. “I think you’re far from ugly, Whit. But you already know that.”

    The skin of her wrist tingled in his grasp. Within seconds, the tingle turned into a sharp sting. He released her suddenly and rubbed his hand, shocked she’d hurt him. When he glanced back up, wondering if she’d done it on purpose, the rejection in her eyes struck him silent. An explanation leapt to his lips, but she turned away, her words rushing out to cover up the awkwardness.



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Murdering Eve

Murdering Eve

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