The Heart of Hannen: Book I in The Atriian Trilogy by Fawn Bonning

* Awarded Runner-Up in romance – 2014 New York Book Festival

An epic tale of dark fantasy, erotic romance, and horror.

Christine is a troubled teen with a dark past. She is miserable in her small town where she feels destined to live her life as an outcast.

She has no idea that her true destiny lies in a different town . . . and in a different world, a most brutal world called Atriia. There she will learn the true meaning of misery, the true meaning of loneliness and shame.

And in the arms of a most unlikely candidate, she will also learn the true meaning of love.

He is Hannen Fallier, the one they call the foul fraigen dropper, revered by men for his fearless feats, yet looked upon by women with open disdain. With a face horribly mauled, he hides behind a mask of shame, deeming himself unworthy of love.

That he would seek acceptance from Christine is irony in its purest form. That he would seek her love . . . the ultimate betrayal.

**Mature subject matter**

**Warning – Enter Atriia at your own risk, but beware, it is not for the faint of heart. If you do decide to brave your way within, you will need the aid of the dictionary located at the back of the book.

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About the author:

The Atriian Trilogy is dark, dystopian, fantasy fiction with a healthy dose of horror and a fair share of sensual erotic encounters that should satisfy any romance lover. Enter Atriia if you dare, but beware, it is not for the faint of heart.

What inspired you to write your book?

The burning desire to create passionate, yet tasteful, erotic romance novels with elements of fantasy and horror.

Here is a short sample from the book:

The world around her did not come back into focus until her lustful yearning was at last satisfied. Even as she cried out, her knees did raise above Hannen’s hips, her legs locking about him, pulling him down. Only then did the world about her reappear.
They lie beneath one clemitt tree on a bed of leaves and grass. The smell of blossoms was strong and sweet, permeating her senses. Scattered rays of sunshine dazzled her brain, these shimmering golden beams filtering through the branches above to spill about them, dancing as the gentle breeze rustled the leaves. There were birds in the distance. She could hear their chorus of trills grow louder as they passed overhead, before fading once again.
Sliding her hands beneath his shirt, she pulled him down to crush her to the earth, reveling in the feel of him so solid on top, so deep within. Beauty surrounded them. She wanted to believe the act they were engaged in was just as beautiful, one natural and pure.
But someone was calling her—a voice echoing in the recesses of her brain―a strangled rasp wrought with pain. Something was over his shoulder, a bloodied carcass―one woodslink mangled beyond recognition, one she’d been told had been allowed to escape.
She squeezed her eyes shut against it, allowing the fire that raged to consume the coldness so intent upon seeping in.