For centuries man has wondered about the great pyramids, the sphinx, and the fantasies of Egyptian gods and goddesses.  Who built these amazing buildings and amazing works of art? And do more mysteries hide in the depths of the desert?

When Tamara travels to Egypt to end the recurring dreams holding her mind hostage, she certainly doesn’t expect to meet one of those mysteries.  Her power of fire burns nearly out of control before the end of her first night in this foreign land.

When Ramose sees Tamara, he wonders who she could be.  Her magick and power is unmatched among the humans he’d met to date, but human she seemed to be.  He will learn about her, protect his people.  Because nothing can melt the ice he holds close to his heart.

An Excerpt of Visions of Fire & Ice:

Like butterfly wings, energy brushed softly against his flesh, teasing just out of reach. He turned, his eyes searching the origin of the power. A woman stormed from the foyer to the observation deck. Anger burned from her in a nearly visible shower of sparks.

She looked young, not much older than fifteen earth years, but instinct told him she was older. Much older.  She dropped into a chair beside a young couple, slamming three bottles of water onto the table. Even in profile, he could tell her mouth was tense, her brow furrowed.

The other woman looked equally young, though a diamond wedding ring set glittered on her left hand. The man beside her appeared older, in his late twenties, his blonde hair matching that of his wife. The fingers of one hand linked with hers, his thumb caressing her hand.

The young wife brushed blonde hair from her face and, with a concerned look, spoke to the other.

“What’s wrong?”

“A pervert decided he was going to cop a feel.”

“Are you all right?” The married woman leaned forward, worry etched in the sudden furrowing of her brow. So they were friends at least.

“Oh, I’m fine. And I don’t think he’s going to be putting his hands on a woman without her permission for a long time.”

“What did you do, Tamara?”

Tamara. Ramose tested the name in his mind. It fit, somehow. Not too delicate, and not too strong. Interesting.

The tone of the other woman’s voice drew Ramose deeper into the conversation. Instead of righteous concern like he’d expected, her tone held admonishment. Curiosity overwhelmed propriety, andhe continued to eavesdrop, using every bit of his powerful Petiri hearing to catch every nuance of their voices. Important voices. Though he didn’t know why.

And one of those voices played his body the way a feminine hand played a harp. Soothing, yet arousing, despite the tinge of anger, mixed with”¦ fear?

“Let’s just say he got a little hot under the collar by the time I was finished.”

The other woman leaned forward, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “You can’t do that kind of thing, Tamara. What if you hurt him? Or worse, what if someone saw?”

“Julie, I’m not going to let that pervert touch me and not pay for it. I didn’t hurt him. Not bad, anyway.” 

“Where is he?” 

Tamara nodded toward the back corner of the observation deck. Several young men stood in the back. He knew the instant he laid eyes on the man who she spoke about. Well-dressed and groomed, he sported a red mark in the shape of feminine handprints on his face.

A burn!

Surprise rippled through Ramose. She held the power of fire. Dangerous. Deadly. Both to others, as well as him.

 “Oh, my God,” whispered the one called Julie. “Tamara, you left a mark! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I didn’t like his hands all over me.”

Ramose followed their gaze toward the man in question. Incensed, the human male motioned toward Tamara.

“The little bitch must have had some kind of heater in her palm.”

Curiosity fluttered inside him, but that wasn’t all. The ice he held in his veins crept down his fingers, aching to send itself at a man who had tried to touch the female. Anger. Hatred.

Control. He needed control. For thousands of years, he’d been known to his people as the man of ice, both in gifts and emotions. He’d held himself in check for so long he barely understood what was happening.

He cocked his head, observing the humans. Now, this was a scientific problem outside of his reach. Why? Why would he hate a man who had nothing to do with him? His jaw threatened to crack under the pressure of clenching his teeth to maintain control. His fingers tightened into a fist, and he swallowed the urge to slam his fist into the burned man’s face struck him.

He sucked in a harsh breath. The violent urge made no sense. Not over a woman he’d never met. And a human at that.

He took deep breaths, forcing his muscles to relax before he gave himself away. He turned his attention back to the women.

“You need to be careful, Tamara.” Another surge of power, this one different from the first woman.

They both had power! Who were these women?

What were these women?

The young woman tossed a hand out in apparent exasperation. “It’s not like I asked for him to do what he did, Julie.”

“That’s not what I meant. Something is going to happen tonight. You’ll meet someone. Two someone’s actually. One you can trust, and the other you can’t. You need to be careful.”

By the gods! She could see the future.

Ramose narrowed his eyes, studying the two young women. One held the power of fire. The other had the ability to see the future. Was this a new turn in human evolution? He struggled to keep from smiling. Gods, how he hoped so. Then he and his crew wouldn’t have to hide their own skills from the world.

He analyzed both women for a moment before his attention focused entirely on the one called Tamara. She drew him. Like the Sphinx, her face held a familiar curve. The gentle tilt of her lips, the warm brown hair.  Everything about her plucked a chord deep inside. For the first time in centuries, the gentle stir of arousal swept through his blood. She glanced in his direction, and he could almost swear he saw flames leaping within in her eyes.

The artificial lights lowered, shrouding her face in shadows. From the corner of his eye, he saw the lasers dance upon the stone surface of the pyramids, drawing the shapes of a history long past. Yet the colors and images they drew paled in comparison to the luminescent quality of this woman’s complexion.

The speakers exploded with its tinny music, and she jolted in her chair, spinning to look over her shoulder. The sharp glint of gold caught his eye. He narrowed his eyes, peering closer. A golden serpent wrapped around her bicep, its eyes glittering red in the darkness.

A Napshua. Unbidden, irritation seeped through his blood. The symbol of his people, a Napshua, created of a special metal alloy from the world of Petiri, designed only for the person who wore it. At a glance, the armband resembled gold, but the special alloy held the mysteries of Petiri magick within, a magick few Petiri even understood. Once bonded, the Napshua took on special traits, offering the wearer its protection, enhancing the wearer’s natural magickal gifts. But Ramose knew every Petiri on this world, and, despite her control of one of the most difficult magickal elements, this woman wasn’t one of them.

The asp sensed him and sharp, red eyes glittered in his direction. The magickal pull from the Napshua tugged at his psyche. It whispered in his mind, soft mystical sounds of dreams long dead. Of a world he hadn’t seen in thousands of years. Ramose shook his head, shoving the magick to the background.

Who was she? What was she?