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Pyk never thought he’d find his destiny deep within the shadows of the dark forest.
Genres/Themes: Dark Fantasy, Gay, Elves, BDSM
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Pyk never thought he’d find his destiny deep within the shadows of the dark forest.
Pyk doesn’t fit in with the light Fae, no matter how hard he tries to conform to the ways of his people. He craves things, dark things, that no light Fae should ever think about, much less desire. At four hundred years old, he thinks he should have things figured out by now, not still be feel like he doesn’t belong. Until the day the dark forest calls to him…
Prince Llewellyn was banished from his home long ago, his deformities too much for even the dark Fae to handle. Nearly forgotten, he’s lived in isolation for five thousand years. Stories of the monstrous Fae prince have become fodder for nightmares to scare Fae children into obedience. But Llewellyn lives, and he’s lonely. When a light Fae comes to him, Llewellyn demands that Pyk bow and submit. He only means to keep Pyk long enough to ease the ache of being alone — he doesn’t count on falling in love.
When others want to destroy Pyk and use him to start a war with the light Fae, Llewellyn knows he must do everything he can to protect his mate, even if it means going home. Now that he’s found the perfect Fae to give in to his dark desires, he’s not letting him go.
WARNING: contains bondage, spanking, sex toys, anal sex, and a bit of darkness. If you don’t like over the top hot scenes between two sexy fae males that may melt your e-reader, then this book isn’t for you.
Magick swirled through the air as spells were thrown with arcs of color and light. Pyk scowled at the juvenile behavior as a puff of pink smacked him across the face, the magick settling over his skin leaving tingles in its wake. He shook it off before trudging across the field. Magick pelted him, making his temper spike with every spell. It was wasteful, and was going to draw the wrong kind of attention to their small gathering.
A breeze teased the tall grass and made the leaves rustle. His gaze was drawn to the dark forest, a place where monsters and evil lived. Even the bravest of souls who entered were never seen again. It was said that a beast lived in the forest. Eyes black as pitch, horns the color of brimstone, and a soul that was badly damaged. Young light fae were told to never enter the forest or the monster would eat them, bones and all.
Pyk was too old for such stories, but there was something sinister about the dark forest. Whispers reached his ears, a calling that was hard to ignore, as the voices beckoned him closer. He’d taken three steps toward the forest before he jolted back to awareness. Unease skittered down his spine, a feeling of dread overcoming him, as if he were being watched. Nothing moved from within the forest, and no animals made a sound. It was said that any creature who survived the dark forest became twisted and evil, like the monster who ruled over the territory that lay in shadows and mist.
A glance over his shoulder let him know that no one else was wary of being so close to so much danger. They laughed and played, acting as if they were ten and not two hundred. Part of him envied them. It had been so long since he’d felt carefree. When was the last time he’d played or had fun of any kind? They joked and called him an old man, but Pyk wondered if maybe he had aged before his time. He was only four hundred, still quite young, but being different from the others had given him more of a cynical view of the world. He knew if any of the light fae knew what he really desired, they would shun him.
The whispering grew stronger, drawing his attention back to the forest. Tendrils of black smoke danced and reached for him, pulling him closer. His heart thudded in his chest and his mind screamed for him to back away, and yet his feet carried him closer. The sounds of the laughing fae behind him dimmed as the whispers grew more insistent. The forest was closer than ever before, the darkness luring him in. A scent teased his nose, something rank and rancid. The stench of rotting flesh made him gag and he stumbled back a step.
A black, clawed hand reached from the darkness, wrapped around his wrist, and jerked him into the forest. Pyk stumbled and fell to his knees, the decaying leaves of the forest crumbling under his weight. His gaze lifted, following a pair of black leather boots, pants that molded to strong thighs and an impressive bulge, and a shirt as dark as the endless night sky. Despite the fear he felt, his cock responded to the pure strength in the male standing over him. Looking further up, all he saw was darkness where a face should have been, and the glow of red eyes. Horns curled toward the canopy, tipped with a silver metal.
He should run. Scream. Do something to get away, but there was a pull he couldn’t ignore. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he wondered what sort of spell the creature had cast over him. Other than the horns, claws, and strange face, he had the body of a fae. Stronger than most, broader perhaps. Beautiful. Pyk stared at the expanse of the creature’s chest and he wondered what it looked like under all the black clothing.
The claw-tipped fingers tightened on Pyk’s wrist and the creature began dragging him through the dark forest. Pyk stumbled to his feet and trailed after the figure, his magick sparking then fizzling at his fingertips. Fear pulsed through him combating his growing lust, and he reached down deep, trying to pull from the well of his magick to no avail. Either his fear was too great, or the creature held some sort of power over him.
Darkness closed in around them as twigs and leaves crunched under their feet. The air grew colder, and there was silence around them, as if even the twisted creatures who lived in the forest were afraid of whoever was holding him captive. As much as Pyk wished he was back in the field, he still felt that pull he couldn’t ignore. A mixture of curiosity and desire spiraled through him as he tried to study the figure hauling him through the forest.
A clearing came into view, and with it, a tall castle. Pyk would have frozen in place had the dark figure not been dragging him along. The gray stone structure reached toward the sky, shadows clinging to it, and vines climbing the sides. The massive doors opened as they approached, as if welcoming their master home, and Pyk wondered if his life was about to end. Being led to the evil being’s lair couldn’t be a good thing.
The stones under his feet absorbed the sounds of his boots as he crossed the threshold. As they trudged further into the castle, the doors behind them swung shut, just as soundlessly as they had opened. It was an eerie feeling, and Pyk couldn’t shake the sensation of his skin crawling. Magick swirled through the air, dark and heavy, its hands twisting and reaching for him. The mysterious creature led him further into the castle, the halls seeming to bend and move on their own. Another set of doors opened as they approached, and the creature dragged him further inside, climbing steps to a dais.
Pyk was released and nearly fell face-first onto the floor. He landed on his knees, and waited for his fate. The figure sprawled across a wooden throne, and with a wave of a clawed hand, light illuminated the room they had entered. As the warm glow bathed the creature, the shadows of his face cleared and Pyk was struck dumb by the most handsome fae he’d ever seen. The red eyes changed to a silvery gray, and as more of the creature’s cloaking spell cleared, Pyk realized he was looking at a dark fae.
Long, black hair cascaded over the fae’s shoulders, and slightly pointed ears peeked through the strands. The horns remained, and Pyk realized they weren’t part of the illusion. The fae’s hands really were tipped with claws, even though his fingers looked normal otherwise. Pyk had never heard of a fae surviving in the dark forest, and now instead of being afraid, he was intrigued. His gaze scanned the figure, and he bit his lip at the bulge that still pushed against the male’s pants. It seemed the desire he’d felt wasn’t one-sided.
“Who are you?” Pyk asked.
“Prince Llewellyn.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
With an overactive imagination and a penchant for making up stories, was it any wonder Dulce Dennison decided to be an author? From cowboys to shapeshifters, she has a story for them all, but her passion lies in writing m/m romances. Dulce believes in love in all shapes and sizes, and that everyone deserves a happily-ever-after.
Pyk has never fit in with the light fae, no matter how hard he’s tried to conform to the ways of his people. He craves things, dark things, that no light fae should ever even think about, much less desire. At four hundred years old, he should have figured things out, not felt conflicted and like he didn’t belong. Until the day the dark forest calls to him… Lured into the shadows, Pyk never thought he’d find his destiny in the forbidden territory, the place all light fae feared.
Prince Llewellyn was banished from his home long ago, his deformities too much for even the dark fae to handle. He’s lived in isolation for around five thousand years, the stories of the monstrous fae prince nothing more than fodder for nightmares and to scare children into obedience. But Llewellyn lives, and he’s lonely. When a light fae comes to him, Llewellyn demands Pyk bow and submit. He’d only meant to keep him long enough to ease the ache of being alone. Llewellyn never counted on falling in love.
When others want Pyk, want to destroy him and use him to start a war with the light fae, Llewellyn knows he must do everything he can to protect the male he’s claimed as his mate, even if it means going home. Now that he’s found the perfect fae to give in to his dark desires, he’s not letting him go.
WARNING: contains bondage, spanking, sex toys, anal sex, and a bit of darkness. If you don’t like over the top hot scenes between two sexy fae males that may melt your e-reader, then this book isn’t for you.
With an overactive imagination and a penchant for making up stories, was it any wonder Dulce Dennison decided to be an author? From cowboys to shapeshifters, she has a story for them all, but her passion lies in writing m/m fantasy romances. Dulce believes in love in all shapes and sizes, and that everyone deserves a happily-ever-after — even grumpy bear shifters.
Married since 2000 to a man she isn’t sure is quite human, her husband and children (which she fondly calls the demon spawn) keep her busy, but never too busy to write. Is there such a thing as too busy to write? Most mornings you can find Dulce set up with her laptop, a cat curled up next to her, and a steaming cup of coffee just an arm’s reach away.
Available today at Changeling Press, or you can pre-order at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, or Kobo for October 12th! Click the “buy at Changeling” link on the title of interest to read the full book description.
Genres/Themes: Contemporary. MC Romance, SilverFox (older hero), New Adult, 2nd Chance Romance
Wizard Micah Norwood was exiled from his cabal, but he didn’t leave empty-handed. Every cabal possesses a Focus Gem, a crystal used to store collective energies, used only for wide-reaching spells. He knows his cabal is readying to overthrow a Dark Fae House, but he doesn’t know why. After meeting Kirof, a Dark Fae on the run from his own House, Micah realizes he can’t let the cabal succeed.
Kirof, formerly of House Vakeor, has no idea why his companion Micah was exiled, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before the wizards or the Dark Fae find them. Desperately trying to keep them one step ahead of their pursuers, Kirof finds himself caring far more for Micah than he should.
Micah Norwood wandered into the adjacent sitting room, half asleep. He paused in the doorway. Kirof still slept in one of the chairs. Micah had tried getting the man to share the bed, but Kirof had resisted. Micah had never been the type to just make the first move, but waiting for Kirof to do it was slowly driving him insane. The desire between them had been strong from the moment they’d first met. It was a weird mix of hot and unnerving.
“Micah?”
He shook his head, belatedly realizing he’d zoned off. He smiled at Kirof. “Lost in thought. Are you regretting the chair yet?”
Kirof stood slowly, wincing as if in pain. Sleeping in a chair sucked. Been there, done that. Micah held the man’s gaze as Kirof approached him. Pale hair fell over Kirof’s broad shoulders, and ice-blue eyes held Micah more spellbound than anything he’d ever conjured himself.
“Not necessarily the chair,” Kirof said.
“Yeah?” Micah stopped short of daring Kirof to take one more step closer. He had to look up, considering the Dark Fae was nearly a foot taller. He’d always hated being short, but something about a taller man made him weak in the knees. Broad, muscled. Kirof defied every Fae stereotype that existed, dark or light.
Kirof braced his hands on either side of the doorframe. Micah forced himself to look at the man’s face and not the muscular arms outstretched above him. Kirof leaned down, and Micah held his breath, praying. Just when Micah thought he’d finally get the kiss he’d been wanting since they first met, someone knocked on the door.
Spell broken, Kirof stepped away, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. Micah wanted to launch an ice bolt at whatever jackass had interrupted. Kirof opened the door, revealing one of his brothers, Roen. Roen’s human lover, Kyle, followed the Dark Fae into the room. Kirof shut the door behind them.
“Have you seen Aron?” Roen asked, his expression one of concern.
“No,” Kirof said. “We just woke up. Well, I did.” He glanced at Micah.
Micah shook his head. “I haven’t been awake long. Is Aron not in his room?”
Roen sat down, brow furrowed. “No.” He glanced up. “All his stuff is gone.”
Kirof blinked. “Gone? Where the hell would he go? You know him better than anyone.”
“I don’t know,” Roen said. “This isn’t like him, Kirof. He wouldn’t just up and leave without saying anything to me. Something isn’t right about this.”
“No need to get worked up yet,” Kirof said. “I’m sure he’s fine. Is there anyone else he’d want to visit?”
“Wait. What about that waitress we met?” Kyle asked Roen.
“She and Aron seemed to be rather… friendly.”
Roen shook his head. “Tanra would come here. She knows where this place is. Hell, she’s sent a few folks here for safety. If she and Aron wanted to get together, this would be the best place to do it.”
Kyle grumbled. “I thought twins could mind read each other.” Chuckling, Roen put his arm around his lover’s shoulders. “Fairy tales.”
Something felt off to Micah, though he couldn’t figure out what. Aron had seemed perfectly fine, if a bit aloof, when they’d met. What could have changed? Micah went back into the bedroom and sat in the makeshift circle he’d set out on the wooden floor. He tried focusing on Aron, picturing the man in his mind, every detail.
Hazy images began to form, and he relaxed more to allow them through. Someone, another Dark Fae, spoke to Aron, though the stranger’s back was turned. Micah tried to focus on Aron’s lips in hopes of catching any words that might help. Aron and the stranger started out of whatever room they were in, and Micah caught a glimpse of what looked like an insignia on the stranger’s left arm. A tattoo?
Micah sighed as the image faded.
“Any luck?” Kirof asked from the doorway.
“I don’t know,” Micah said. He looked at Roen, who stood just behind Kirof. “I saw him speaking to someone, another Dark Fae. The stranger had a tattoo on his left arm.” He patted his own bicep. “Black, two swords crossed, with a rose in the bottom open space.”
Roen’s brow furrowed. “That’s House Kehru’s insignia. Aron was supposed to babysit a delegate visiting House Vakeor, but that was before we left. There’s no reason why he’d do so now. He’d be in chains the second he stepped foot into House Vakeor territory.”
“What about exiles from House Kehru?” Kyle asked from behind Roen. “Are there any?”
“Not that we know of,” Roen said. “But I could be mistaken. Micah, were you able to hear them at all? Or see where they might be?”
“I tried to read Aron’s lips, but I assume he spoke your language. None of the words looked even remotely familiar. As for place, a room of stone. Stone walls, ceiling. I couldn’t see the floor. The door they walked out of was wooden, though. No windows either.”
Roen sighed. “That doesn’t bode well. It sounds like he’s back underground, but why? What is he doing there?”
Micah met Kirof’s gaze. The Dark Fae’s expression mirrored what Micah feared might be the case. Micah drew in a deep breath before speaking.
“Roen… how well do you trust your twin?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, editing, watching movies and shows on Netflix and Amazon, or spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, 100% genderfluid. So any pronoun works!
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Paranormal, Dark Fantasy
Themes: Gay, Magic, Elves and Magical Creatures
Length: 41 pages
About the Book
Eight years ago, Kyle Stafford had everything a seventeen-year-old kid could want — the latest gadgets, the best clothes, the newest sports car, and a palatial home. A single lapse in judgment changed everything. Now he’s lucky if he eats once a day. Taking refuge in a small cave to avoid a torrential downpour, he’s hoping for a safe place to sleep. What he gets is far from restful… and definitely not safe.
Roen of House Vakeor takes his job as a guard very seriously. When his patrol leads him to one of the hidden portals to the humans’ side, he stumbles — quite literally — into a young human male sleeping right at his realm’s front door. Whether the human knows where the entrance is or not, Roen’s duty requires him to take the young man prisoner — back to House Vakeor.
This is my first time reading a book by Mychael Black, and I really enjoyed it! I love books about the fae and I can’t wait for the rest of the series to become available. Firewalk with Me is book one in the Fae-ry Tales series. Roen’s character drew me in from the beginning, and I wanted to know everything about him. My heart hurt for Kyle and what he’d been through with his family, and I was so glad that Roen gave him a chance. The chemistry between the two was intense, and I hope we see more of them in future books in the series. The story ended with not quite all of the loose ends tied up, but it was apparent that it was done that way on purpose, leaving the reader hungry for the next book.
Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆
I received a copy of this book from the publisher for review.
Pirate Aristad, Captain of the Night Witch, is always on the lookout for treasure. Knowing where his former captor, Black Death Joe, hid his loot makes it all the easier. An abandoned manor holds a secret stash, but Aristad knows it comes with a price — the treasure is guarded by a creature that is half man and half beast. It is the Kraken in one of his many forms.
Aristad can’t resist the Kraken’s pull — he gives into sexual cravings that only the Kraken can fulfill, but he knows once his first mate, Delacroix, discovers his secret, mutiny will follow. Has he made too many mistakes to return to the life he left behind, and follow Kraken into the sea?
It’s been a while since I read a pirate romance, and I loved the twist at the end about who Aristad truly was. It’s no secret from the beginning that he’s something different, but I wasn’t quite certain what. I was pleasantly surprised. Kraken was both powerful and endearing, and I fell in love with him quite easily. I was so glad they had a happily-ever-after. The story was well-written, and the descriptive writing was beautiful. Overall, I really enjoyed the story. The author pulled me in from the first page, and I couldn’t stop reading until the very end. Excellent job, Ms. Ishii!
Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆
I received a copy of this book from the publisher for review.
Melena has power to wield, but is she woman enough to guide Valerian into betraying Vicktor?
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres: Dark Fantasy, BDSM, Alternate Universe, Men and Women in Uniform
Valerian sat staring out his window. In his hand he held a missive from the Eastern Plains, where the Moglu rebels were stirring up more unrest. It was hard to subjugate a people when their heroes continued to elude capture. People were looking to the rebels’ leader, Grulon Ni Coro, to free them from tyranny. But in a twist of fate, a stunning unintentional victory, Grulon Ni Coro’s blood sister was now in Valerian’s harem.
He wondered what Grulon would do if he knew his sister Melena was shisha to Valerian — if he knew she was becoming willing and compliant for him. If he knew Valerian was going to strive to make her love him one day. He was unlike his brother in that way. Vicktor felt fear led to ultimate control. Valerian desired domination as well, but on a completely different level. He preferred loyalty to fear.
Valerian folded the missive and snapped his fingers sharply. A servant appeared at his elbow. “Take this and place it on my table, directly in front of my chair.”
“Yes, Sir,” the small female said softly before taking the letter and hurrying to do as instructed.
It did him no good to sit here and mull over things he could not control. Vicktor was not one of those things. Valerian had learned to manage his brother. It took a certain skill to do so. It took a man willing to spend all his time and energy balancing on the precipice between doing enough and going too far.
Valerian sighed and pushed to his feet. His mind would not rest. Why could he not just be satisfied with his life the way it was? What was it he was searching for, anyway? He was afraid one day he would get sick of his brother’s warmongering — or he would get sick of his brother, period.
And do what? What would or could he do? Turn against his brother? Try to become emperor himself? No. He did not want that mantle. It was too heavy. He was his brother’s general, a cunning tactician who had yet to be bested in any undertaking. One day a better tactician, a better soldier, would be brought to bear against Valerian. Oh, what a worthy battle that would be. He longed for that. A worthy battle. What he did now, for his brother, was not so worthy. He invaded the lands of innocent people, killed their men, and enslaved their people. All under his brother’s commands. Were it up to him…
But it wasn’t up to him. What he needed was a worthy diversion.
He needed something fresh and exciting. Something new.
He whistled sharply, and another servant popped up beside him.
“Yes, Sir?” he asked softly.
“Tell Anajou to prepare Melena for my pleasure tonight.”
“Yes, Sir.” The servant hastened off to do as instructed.
Valerian crossed the room to his bed and eyed the room critically for a moment. He wanted to make certain he had everything he needed. He wanted to know he could take his time with his new shisha, the latest lady to join his harem.
He had his favorites. His top three were the harem mothers, the women who cared for and guided all the other shishas — Anajou, Daria, and Hassa, the original three who had begun his harem. The three of them had been a gift from his brother on the day Vicktor’s first child, a daughter, was born. Valerian had not been allowed to keep a harem until that birth five years ago. Even though he had a harem now, none of his women was allowed to get pregnant and give birth until one of Vicktor’s shishas finally gave birth to a son, thus securing the succession of his empire.
Valerian pulled open his top dresser drawer, withdrew a key, and unlocked the chest at the foot of the bed. Unlocked, but did not open it. He knew what was in there. He would access the contents a little later, after Melena had been brought to him.
He smiled to himself when he thought of Melena. She was full of fire and defiance. But now, after spending a day and a night in his company, she was softening. She was confused. She didn’t know what to make of the situation she found herself in. He needed to gain her trust. In order to do that he needed to keep the promise he had made to her to find her sisters and bring them to her in safety… provided they were still alive and could be found. That was his next task. He could tell just how special she was. She could be very important to him. Yet trust was needed on both sides. It would take a lot for him to come to trust her… if she could be trusted. He didn’t know her well enough yet. But she showed incredible promise.
First he must break her down. Not break her will. He wouldn’t want that. Her will was one of the most beautiful things about her. He must break down the walls that stood between them. Walls like her hatred for his people. Her inherent mistrust of men… something she might not even realize she had. He wasn’t sure yet. He needed to break through this idea she had that giving in to him would be the same as losing herself. That was going to be the tricky part.
Jacquelyn lives in the Western North Carolina mountain area around Asheville. After a lifetime of striving to be good enough to be published, she has enjoyed the many blessings her fans have rained on her with their loyalty over the years. With four sisters and other family scattered up and down the Eastern Seaboard, and a history of living all across the USA herself, she still always finds ways to give a nod to her native New York in her work.
Jacquelyn lives with her three “children,” a trio of domestic shorthaired cats whose personalities have often inspired aspects of her characters. A former sign language interpreter and substitute teacher, she is a powerful advocate of reading and writing. She is known for her persistent gifts of books to her nieces and nephews, as well as all the other children in her life, in an effort to see them love both as much as she does. She believes there is nothing more rewarding than the imagination and all it inspires, and nothing more tragic than illiteracy.
Valerian Jorku is second born heir to a massive throne overseeing the largest country in many lands, a country that is ever growing, thanks to his power hungry brother Vicktor, the emperor. But Vicktor is a cruel master and Valerian grows increasingly restless as he experiences his brother’s brutal nature and its effect on others.
Melena, a newly acquired slave girl he is conditioning to his pleasure, whispers nightly of his responsibilities to the people and how those responsibilities should outweigh his honorable intentions toward a brother who is clearly insane. Should he listen to this woman, sister to a rebel thorn in his side, or should he continue to honor his father’s last wishes and be Vicktor’s silent general, doing whatever he asks, no matter how wrong?
When Vicktor threatens her life and begins to turn Valerian’s women against him, Melena seizes the opportunity to push Valerian further in the right direction. But Valerian is not a man to be mastered. He is the one in control and ultimately it is he who holds all of their fates and futures in his hands.
Valerian Jorku looked down at his newest captive, Melena, and tried to use the sight of her to soothe his troubled mind. And yet she was the cause of some of his troubling thoughts.
She had said some things to him recently… things that plagued him. Comments about the dictatorial ways of his brother. Vicktor was a savage man. Not that he wasn’t intelligent, for he was frighteningly so. His brother had led his armies into wars that had more than doubled the size of the already vast Jorku nation. Although, in all honesty, it had been Valerian who had led the actual armies. It had been Valerian’s tactical know-how in the field that had allowed him victory. But his brother took credit for both his own achievements and Valerian’s. Vicktor was like that with all things. What was his was his… and what was yours was his, as well.
This was to say nothing of how he treated people as a whole in other ways. Vicktor was a cruel man with a vicious streak in him that ran a league wide. He had never met an enemy he couldn’t defeat, and that made him proud and arrogant, regardless of the fact that it was Valerian who had defeated those enemies. As far as Victor was concerned Valerian was simply a tool which he used with mastery.
Valerian had always known his place and had respected it. It had been given to him by his late father along with a plethora of other graces and wisdom. He had stayed true to his father’s desires long after his death. And one of his father’s desires was that Valerian never rise up against his brother. That he dutifully accept his place as second son and do all he could to support Vicktor’s rule.
His father couldn’t have known what a monster his eldest son would become. He couldn’t have known that, by association, by being his brother’s right arm, Valerian had become a monster as well.
But this woman… this slave… she had spoken simple truths to him, and he had listened as if hearing them for the first time.
“Your brother has no honor. You surely must see that,” she had said. “Perhaps by following his dictates you are betraying the people who died at his hand and in his wars. Did you ever think of that?”
He had thought of it. He had thought of it for years. But since she had said as much he had thought of it with constancy he’d never exhibited before. What made her words so special that it was as if he was hearing them for the first time?
Perhaps it was because she herself was a victim of his brother’s wars. Her country had been dominated by Vicktor’s armies, and now she was a slave. Her sisters were slaves. Her brother was forced into hiding and led a small band of rebels that had no hope of ever making a difference in the fight to regain independence from the Jorku nation.
She wasn’t a slave any longer, he argued with himself. She had been elevated to shisha, a woman of Valerian’s royal harem — an honor among women. And she was also his current favorite… a place of privilege within the harem itself.
From her perspective she was now being made to serve the man who had been the cause of all her family’s misery. Yet she was coming around. She had thought his predilections perverse and cruel at first, but he believed quite strongly that there was great pleasure to be found in pain and more so in the relationship that developed between a master and his shisha. Now she was coming around to his way of thinking. She was beginning to bend to his hand.
It was a war of sorts in and of itself — a far more personal one. One where he would one day be able to show his vulnerabilities to her and not fear that she would use them against him. He craved such a relationship. He craved a place where he could rest his head and speak of his troubles without fear of his brother hearing about it or fear that others would perceive him as weak for it.
He had trained other women, but he had never reached the point of full trust with any of them. He hoped, as he always did, that this would be different. That she would be different.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jacquelyn lives in the Western North Carolina mountain area around Asheville. After a lifetime of striving to be good enough to be published, she has enjoyed the many blessings her fans have rained on her with their loyalty over the years. With four sisters and other family scattered up and down the Eastern Seaboard, and a history of living all across the USA herself, she still always finds ways to give a nod to her native New York in her work.
Jacquelyn lives with her three “children,” a trio of domestic shorthaired cats whose personalities have often inspired aspects of her characters. A former sign language interpreter and substitute teacher, she is a powerful advocate of reading and writing. She is known for her persistent gifts of books to her nieces and nephews, as well as all the other children in her life, in an effort to see them love both as much as she does. She believes there is nothing more rewarding than the imagination and all it inspires, and nothing more tragic than illiteracy.
Feel free to contact her at jackifrankwrites@gmail.com or visit her website at jacquelynfrank.com and follow her on facebook.com/authorjacquelynfrank and twitter.com/JacquelynFrank.
