Warrior Women
Warrior Women
Series Bowdancer Saga: Book 3
Heat Rating 1
Released 2010-11-05
Word Count 47439
Keywords bowdancer, healer, warrior women, mountain, romance, fantasy, birth, hunter, song, herb, janie franz, erotika romance, erotika for women, erotic romance
ISBN 978-1-926771-67-0
Disclaimer/Notice/Warning
Price :$3.99
Chandro, a beautiful trackfinder, rescues the now pregnant Jan-nell and her precocious daughter, offering them the promise of love and belonging among the fabled warrior women.
Jan-nell the bowdancer, now pregnant with her second child, and her daughter, Mira-nell, trek up a mountain where bards’ tales have said a village of warrior women exists. Jan-nell makes this trip in winter—and in her condition—in order to find a place for Mira-nell where the child’s precocious abilities will be accepted. The women on the mountain, though, are not fighters or even man-haters. They have chosen to live apart from the world in a village of only women, led by a sisterhood of hunters. Chandro, a beautiful trackfinder, rescues Jan-nell and her daughter, offering them a home and the promise of love.
In the firelight after their brief meal, they wedged their sacks in a corner where the boulder met the mountain face and stood their water jugs beside them. The night had turned chilly, and their meager fire offered little warmth. Jan-nell had intended to spread their cloaks on the ground and stretch out to sleep, but she knew the mountain rock would rob them both of warmth. She braced her back against the boulder and then stretched an arm to Mira-nell. "Come rest your head on my lap—or what there is of it," she coaxed, and her child nestled against her.
Jan-nell spread Mira-nell's cloak further over her wee body and then covered her with part of her own. As she stroked the little girl's head, the babe within kicked.
Mira-nell giggled and raised her head. "The babe will be a bowdancer too, Mother."
"No doubt. Or maybe an expert apple tree climber as you, my sweet."
When Mira-nell returned her head to her mother's lap, she said, "If we had a cook pot, Mother, we could have made some tea."
"We were not foresightful, were we?"
Jan-nell remembered the stewpot Khrin had acquired for them soon after their paths had crossed. It had been a pot he had earned through great torment to his body and soul. She remembered the days they had lingered by a stream, cooking off the land and the water, roasting fish, making tea and crayfish soup, blending found ingredients with herbs, sharing their skills and songs and dances, coming to know each other's stories and finding each other's hearts.
Fat tears formed in her eyes. What was she doing here? What had she left behind?
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