"Knight, Angela - (Magerverse 01) - Seduction's gift" - читать интересную книгу автора (Knight Angela)

Grace opened the front door half-hoping to find Lance waiting for
her. She wasn't sure if she'd rather take him to bed or plow
her fist into his face. In her current mood, she suspected either
would do.

Instead she stepped inside to see a dark, hulking shape waiting in
her living room. Every muscle instantly knotted. She flicked on
the light.

The shape resolved itself in a massive chunk of granite with a sword
thrust through it.

Grace straightened from her instinctive crouch and dropped her hand
from her holster. "Okay, what the hell is this?" Despite
her irritation, some part of her sang in anticipation. Count on
Lancelot to give her exactly what she desperately needed.

She swung the door closed behind her and stalked toward the stone
with its embedded weapon. She wasn't at all surprised to see an
inscription cut into the granite: Maybe you'd rather be a
Champion.

Grace studied the sword, adrenaline surging through her blood. The
simple cross guard hilt was plain, unadorned, without the gems and
runes she'd seen on Excalibur's. It looked exactly like the
blunted practice weapons Lance had used to teach her swordplay.

Her lips peeled back from her teeth. Without hesitation, she
scrambled up on top of the stone until she could get a good grip on
the sword. "Want to play, Lance?" she muttered, heaving
upward. "Okay, let's play."

The blade pulled free of the rock with a slow, sliding sensation, as
if it had been buried in peanut butter. The instant the point
cleared the granite, light exploded in Grace's eyes, brilliant
and cold. Blinded, she was dimly aware of a spinning sensation she
recognized as a dimensional doorway. Must be a spell generator in
the rock, she thought.

When the purple flashes faded from her dazzled vision, she found
herself standing in a huge space that reminded her of a medieval
castle great hall, complete with arched walls and a curving
staircase running up one side.

"Jesus," she muttered, turning in a slow circle with the
sword still gripped in one hand, "I've been transported into
an Errol
Flynn movie."

A loud, warning creak made her spin warily just as a wooden door