Alyssa Day

Eleven thousand years ago, before Atlantis vanished beneath the waves, Poseidon chose seven warriors to protect humanity. One rule bound them all: never fall for a human.

Some rules were meant to be shattered.

Riley Dawson isn’t your typical Virginia Beach social worker—she's an empath with a rare psychic gift that hasn't been seen since the time of the Atlanteans. The ocean calls to her with a fierce, aching pull… and something—someone—is calling back.

Conlan, High Prince of Atlantis, has risen from the depths on a desperate mission to recover Poseidon’s stolen Trident. But when his mind unexpectedly links with Riley’s, the connection is immediate, intense—and forbidden.

Drawn to her strength, her beauty, and her soul-deep empathy, Conlan finds himself torn between duty and desire.

But in a world of ancient magic and ruthless enemies, can love between a mortal and a warrior of the deep survive the tides of war?

Destiny surfaces. Passion ignites. And Atlantis will never be the same.

Raves

“Alyssa Day creates an amazing and astonishing world in ATLANTIS RISING you’ll want to visit again and again. ATLANTIS RISING is romantic, sexy and utterly compelling. I loved it!”
—New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan

“There’s nothing more evocative than the world of Atlantis. Alyssa Day has penned a white-hot winner!”
—Gena Showalter, author of The Nymph King

“An amazing new world you don’t want to miss, and you won’t want to leave! Alyssa Day delivers chills, thrills, and your fill of sexy Poseidon Warriors!”
—USA Today bestselling author Kerrelyn Sparks

“Inventive and electrifying. An exhilarating new series!”
—Romantic Times

“Alyssa Day roars onto the paranormal scene with this tense and magnetic read.”
—Romance Junkies

“Fascinating and intriguing . . . Fantastic reinvention of Atlantis.”
—Huntress Reviews

“Breathtaking paranormal romance.”
—Fresh Fiction

“Wow! What a spectacular series opener . . . The love scenes are sizzling hot.”
—OnceUponARomance.net

“The world-building is superb . . . The Warriors of Poseidon are a sexy, chivalrous, and dangerous team [who] create an atmosphere of testosterone so thick you can cut it with a knife; the interaction between this brawny bunch is priceless.”
—ParaNormal Romance Reviews

“A cast of sexy but tormented alpha heroes.”
—The Romance Reader

Praise for the Warriors of Poseidon series:

“Alyssa Day’s Warriors of Poseidon series is fascinating, thrilling, and deeply romantic. The perfect blend of fabulous world-building and sexy romantic-adventure.”
—New York Times bestselling author Jayne Castle

“A PHENOMENAL NEW SERIES.”
—Fresh Fiction

“Alyssa Day works her own brand of sexy sorcery in this fabulous new paranormal series. Warriors and witches have never been so hot!”
—New York Times bestselling author Teresa Medeiros

Excerpt

Riley stared up at the man who had saved her. If her mind had conjured up her most erotic fantasy to save her from a grim reality in which she really was being attacked, it had done a bang-up job. The man was some kind of super hero come to life.

If they made super heroes who looked like very dangerous Hollywood movie stars, that is. He stood a good eight inches taller than her five foot ten, and his body was a nymphomaniac’s wet dream. Heavily muscled shoulders and arms, a broad chest that tapered down to a lean waist. God, his thighs had to be the size of her waist. The man was a mountain of muscle, improbably wearing a black silk shirt that tucked into elegant black pants.

She jerked her gaze up from going any further south and stared fixedly at his chest, her cheeks flaming to know that he’d caught her ogling him.

Although, really, the man must get ogled wherever he goes, so it’s not like he isn’t used to it.

His silky black hair brushed his shoulders in shining waves, framing a face that defied description. Beautiful. For the first time in her life, she used the adjective to describe a man.

He raised her chin with one finger, and she looked up at him again. He was smiling, amusement lighting up his dark eyes, almost as if he’d heard what she . . .

“Oh, God,” she muttered. “Empath means you can read my mind?” She stared up past the silky hair, past the perfectly-sculpted mouth, and past the cheekbones that seemed carved of granite. Finally, her gaze fixed on the icy black eyes that burned over her. Strange that ice could be so hot, she thought absently, trapped almost mindlessly in his gaze.

“You did hear me, didn’t you?” she asked, embarrassment nearly an afterthought.

He touched her cheek with fingers so gentle she nearly shuddered from the sensation, and he spoke inside her mind with a voice that should be outlawed. I can hear your thoughts, but I can also somehow feel your emotions. It’s impossible, but it’s true.

Whiskey wrapped in velvet. His low, purely masculine voice carried a smooth, husky tone that curled around her nerve endings until her skin tightened with desire. Desire that caressed every erogenous zone she’d never even known she had.

Desire that he would touch her. Desire that he would keep talking to her on the mental path that no other person had ever shared with her.

Desire.

His voice echoed in her mind, rough. Strained. I hear you, and maybe you should think other thoughts. Because something about you is burning me up inside, and I don’t know if I’m up to the challenge of controlling it.

She sensed his puzzlement, almost as if he were seeking the answer to an unanswerable problem. He stepped closer to her and wrapped one hand gently around the nape of her neck. I need to touch you. I don’t want to frighten you, but please let me touch you. Just my forehead to yours.

His eyes held a stark plea. Please.

Trembling, sure she was out of her mind to agree to it, she nodded. She couldn’t help herself. Something inside of her wouldn’t let her run away. Maybe insanity, or maybe just the adrenaline high from surviving two near-death experiences in a single evening.

But every protective instinct that had served her well in her job – that should have been shouting CAUTION, CAUTION, BACK AWAY FROM THE SUPER HUNK — was screaming yes, yes, yes, touch me, touch me.

Riley snapped out of her mental ramble, realizing that the hottest man she’d ever seen was bending toward her. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, he lowered his face toward hers, as if to kiss her.

Oh, if he’d only kiss her.

A mere breath away from her, he smiled a slow smile of sheer male satisfaction. It made him look even more the predator he clearly was.

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