Broken Dove By Kristen Ashley Teaser!!!

Far too young, Apollo Ulfr lost Ilsa, his wife, the love of is life and the mother of his two children. The grief of her loss does not settle in his soul, it solders to it. But when he discovers there is a parallel universe where his wife may have a twin, he feels there's hope and sets about bringing her to his world so he can have her back.

But Ilsa Ulfr of our world is married to the parellel universe's twin, Pol, who is not a good man. Not in any way. She's on the run from him and the last thing she wants is to be transported to a fantastical world and be forced to take his side as his wife, even if he is not Pol. And Apollo finds the broken, bitter Ilsa nothing like his beloved and he further wants nothing to do with her.

But darkness is looming and evil is amassing. Apollo must protect his land and keep his family safe, including the new Ilsa.

Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA. She nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorise and she hadn't taken her first breath!). 

Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana but has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.

Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).

Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up. 

And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.

Prologue: 

Apollo Ulfr saw the dancing lights against his closed eyelids before he felt the presence in the room.

He rolled out of the bed, grabbing the knife from underneath his pillow as he did so. Crouching by the bed, scanning the room even as his eyes became accustomed to the dark, suddenly he felt it and knew it was her.

The witch.
Valentine Rousseau.
Annoyed, seeing as it was the dead of night, he was naked, had not long before sent the

Beniessienne whore to her own bed and he’d told the witch his plans (and these were not his plans, hence the whore who had left), and last, he was in Fleuridia to collect his children from boarding school so he could put them in a safe place before darkness settled on the land, he straightened, doing so speaking.

“Witch, I told you the time and place you were to bring her to me and this is not—”

She interrupted him, her voice, as usual, wry but there was an underlying urgency to it that made his skin prickle.

“If you want to meet the Ilsa of my world, I suggest you change your plans.” Through the dark, Apollo narrowed his eyes on her slim shadow.
“And this means...?” he prompted when she said no more.
“This means, the Apollo of my world has found her.”

When last they spoke, she’d explained what that meant.
The Apollo Ulfr of the other world, his twin, was not a good man.
And he’d harmed Ilsa. Because of this, she was evading him.
Now his twin had found her.
Gods damn it, he’d waited bloody years to have his wife back. He wasn’t going to let the

other bloody him in a parallel universe take her away. 

Without delay, Apollo bent to collect his clothes from the floor, commanding, “You’ll take me to her.”

“Is that a question?” she asked in reply.
Yanking up his breeches, he cut his gaze to her shadow. “No, it’s bloody not.”
Thankfully, the maddening witch, who could be sly and perverse, instantly lifted her elegant

hands with her long, slim fingers tipped in scarlet-painted nails and he saw the green mist start to light the room.

“Bring your weapons,” she warned.
Bloody hell.
Ilsa.
“Of course,” he murmured, having yanked on his shirt, he pulled on his boots and moved

quickly to the chair where he’d thrown his cape and saber. “All of them, Apollo,” she went on.
Bloody hell.
He didn’t respond.

He swung his cape around, quickly buckling it on its slant across his chest. He did the same with the scabbard that held his saber. He donned his knife belt, shoved his blade into the sheath and moved to the wardrobe. Bending low, he pulled the knives out of the box at the bottom and shoved them in his boots, one on each side.

The green mist had encompassed the room and he and the witch were both fading by the time he moved to her.

Although he didn’t fall, he felt the ground give way beneath his feet and all faded to black.

When he felt solid beneath him again and their environs came into sharp focus, at what Apollo saw, his blood coursed scalding through his veins, he opened his mouth, and he roared. 

Expected release date: 12/30/13 

** for you reading pleasure: chapters 1-3. An be read by clicking the link below..

http://www.kristenashley.net/bin/download_blob.php?id=czo2NDoiLTeQPlUsSQ8TeQSlAsHJlyrB3OT4Mfth71gSNI4bU9TeQSlAsH7MhA6dRcgvA5jtbIzBVYTPHQx3CW9Nr83xexaHTeQSlAsHKyC4Qq8jJjI5TKDArSI7

Or 

http://www.kristenashley.net