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Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 28

Can you believe it’s been going on 28 weeks already? Holy crap!

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I skipped using a prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to fit it in and this chapter had to be specific.

Nathan has tea with Harston and decides on his future.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 28

Harston poured my tea as I sat watching the early sunshine on the screen porch. It filtered through the garden trees and brought a touch of familiar civility I needed to ground me. After Harston helped dress me, we’d moved downstairs so I could indulge in the quiet. Rother still slept, as did much of the staff. Given last night’s activities, it was no surprise the morning held little activity.

“Sit with me,” I said.

“Sir?”

“The social hierarchy is different here. It will be easier to change if I start with someone who’s company I enjoy.” I motioned to the next seat. “Please.”

Harston’s movements were stilted as if I’d made a vulgar request, but he pulled back the adjoining chair and sat beside me. When I picked up the teapot and poured him a cup, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“We’re not crossing boundaries, we’re redrawing them. Things are different in Francine and we need to learn to become part of it. We’ve known each other for a long time. You’re still my attendant, but I’d like to think of you as my friend as well.”

The controlled smile and faint blush on Harston’s cheeks told me I’d said the right thing. “Thank you.”

I took my first sip of Francinian tea. It was bold and complex, much like its people. I hoped I might find a way to be part of that someday and feel far less like an outsider.

“How have you been faring in Delaga House?”

“Well, I think. Samantha sorted me after we arrived. The staff have been kind.”

“Even Vivian?” I said, peering at him from the corner of my eye.

“She seems nice.”

I shot Harston a knowing look. He ducked his head and averted his eyes.

“Blythe warned me about her. I’ve kept my distance.”

That sounded more like my faithful right hand. I chuckled softly, reveling in the genuine moment. There has been so few of them considering how much information had been withheld from me.

“I heard what happened last night. Are you sure you’re all right?” Harston hadn’t stopped eyeing the bruise on my cheek since we came downstairs. The dull sting faded as I watched a flock of small birds race between the branches. Fluttering from tree to tree, their melodic tweeting soothed me, showing a side of beauty I’d missed since arriving.

I huffed. “I think my pride is wounded worse. Although I probably would have fared better if Rother had confided in me.” I took a sip of my tea as I marshaled my nerve. “When did you find out about… the business side of things?” I still cringed at my choice of words, that I couldn’t say brothel out loud. Would I forever find coarse ideas so hard to voice?

“When you and Lord Rother were…”—Harston cleared his throat—“consummating in your chambers.”

An embarrassed laugh burst out of me and I nearly spilled my tea. “That was a rather bold response. How much chatting with Blythe have you been doing?”

“Enough to have the house’s purpose explained to me.”

“Were you shocked?”

“Somewhat. But I’m not a noble, Sir Nathan—”

I raised a hand. “Just Nathan from now on. We both need to adapt.”

“…Nathan…” Harston grimaced as he forced himself to break his habits. He was doing a better than myself. “I come from poorer stock. A man does what he needs to when he makes his living.”

“So it doesn’t bother you?”

“It’s not what I would have chosen, but there are worse fates. I could be out on the street with no options at all.”

An uncomfortable thought came to mind. “They didn’t expect you to… serve customers, did they?”

Harston shook his head and chuckled. “Only drinks. Not everyone does that sort of work here.”

I let out a cleansing sigh. Acceptance would be difficult enough without the idea of my trusted servant being coerced into becoming a courtesan, whether he agreed or not.

“I’m more worried about you,” he said.

My surprise was obvious. “About me?”

“Yes. Even though it wasn’t all perfect, you’ve lived a grand life. You were born a Victorian lord. We should all wish for great things. Delaga House is nothing like back home. I had a hard time picturing you settling in.” A small creased appeared between his brows. “A man of your breeding should be above all this.”

“Part of me thinks I should be. But part of me feels very sheltered and spoiled. I find this whole business so unsavory, but I can’t fault it’s success. It was a hard life, but Rother built his fortune on it. I can’t ignore that, even if I don’t approve.”

I hadn’t stopped repeating Rother’s history to myself throughout the night. Even in the wee hours when he finally returned to our bed, slumping into exhaustion. It was a harsh reminder of how fortunate I’d been in spite of the trials I’d endured. While I may have have been forced to wear the chastity belt for five years, there was never a time a didn’t have a roof over my head. I couldn’t even fathom the hardship.

“So what will you do?”

As scandalous as I found my husband’s profession, the thought of walking away from my marriage was far worse. Victorian lords and ladies didn’t do such things. A surge of morning air filled my lungs, strengthening my resolve.

“Try to become a man of two lands, I suppose. I may not agree with everything, but I don’t have to abandon my duty and all my values to be a proper spouse and support my husband. I will learn to accept my new position and be what Rother needs me to be. It’s what I was taught to do.”

“Are you sure?”

I swallowed back my drink like my father did his whiskey, almost wishing for liquor at this early hour.

“Pour us some more tea, Harston.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Prism Book Alliance Best of 2015 Round 2

Have you seen? Prism Book Alliance is having their Best of 2015 Blogiversay contest and my ebook The Luxorian Fugitive – Ship Logs of the Santa Claus – Book One has made it to Round 2! I’m seriously blown away to be on the list as a new author. There are incredible authors up there and I’m stunned I’m on the list with them.

Best of 2015 Contest/Giveaway Round 2

Apparently, you can vote once a day and I’d love to see myself survive a few more rounds. There are incredible authors up there and I’m stunned to be on the list with them. If you’d like to show your support, The Luxorian Fugitive can be found in Group 11.

***Doing a Happy dance!***

Gratuitous Naughtiness—Feeling Inspired

Sometimes you just gotta find the image to inspire the character… Scenarios can be sparked with just a glance at the right picture. It’s a special kind of research.

Do any of these inspire you to perform?

I know they make me want to write hot and sweaty things…

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 27

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I skipped using a prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to fit it in and this chapter had to be specific.

Nathan learns of Rother’s history.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 27

“How in the world could that happen?” As soon as the words left my lips, I knew I’d offended Rother as greatly as his profession had offended me. His visage darkened and he edged towards the door.

I had to stop him. This evening’s ordeal was a mixture of ignorance and shocking discovery. Whether I was prepared or not, I couldn’t go on in the dark.

“If you expect me to adapt and accept my new life, you’ll have to start explaining a few things so I can start to understand. If I’ve made mistakes, it’s only because no one has told me anything.” Rother paused, and I decided to use a different tactic no matter how conflicted were my feelings. I sweetened my voice as best I knew how.

“Rother, please…”

With an audible exhale, Rother deflated. He turned and faced me, his gaze elsewhere. I could see his silent discussion as he debated what he might share. I didn’t say a word. I wanted—no, needed—to hear something, to comprehend. All of this was so far outside of my experience. The air in my lungs stalled until he began to speak.

“By the time I was ten years old, I was orphaned and living on the streets. When you’re hungry and have no money, you’d be surprised how inventive you can be. Thievery never sat well with me, and I was too young and dirty to work in a shop, even if I’d been willing. Some of the other street rats explained prostitution to me. How it was done, how much money could be made in a short time. I was hungry and penniless. It didn’t take long to decide.

“My first client was a Victorian lord who took a fancy to me. He was clumsy and reeked of opiates. I suppose I should be thankful his excitement made the whole experience a short one. But as unpleasant as the experience was, I learned desire can override even the staunchest moral code if it’s tempting enough.”

Rother walked back to the side table and poured himself a fresh drink. Closing his eyes, he downed it in one swallow.

“It didn’t take long to find older men with questionable tastes who would pay well to keep their secrets.”

The new images his revelation conjured in my head were awful, but I couldn’t stay quiet. “Weren’t you worried for your safety?”

“In the early days, I let an evening get out of control and was beaten half to death. I acquired a pistol afterwards. It evened out the odds.” Opening his eyes, Rother sighed and set his glass down. “It wasn’t the safest existence, but after long, I met Mrs. Marple, a local madam who took me under her wing and into her home, along with a number of others. We earned our keep and learned our trade. I lived there for several years. I met Samantha in the house. We didn’t get along very well. Neither one of us liked the competition. One night I heard her screaming for help. Her client was beating the living hell out of her. Shot the man dead without thinking twice. Mrs. Marple evicted me at once. Samantha left with me and she’s been by my side ever since.”

“That’s awful. I can’t imagine what it would take for any man to get the best of Samantha.”

Rother’s brow arched. “It never happened again.”

“Is that how you met Blythe?”

My husband shook his head. “No. Blythe has been many things and may appreciate the whores’ skills, but he has never been one of them.”

If it was possible, I was more stunned now than when Mr. Lorings attacked me. My mouth opened and closed without saying a word. But really, what could I say? I asked for the whole ugly picture and now I feared it might stain me. And what had such an existence done to my husband? How does one live such a life and come out of it whole? How does anyone?

My inability to respond must have insulted him, because Rother’s tone became cold and harsh, reminding me of my father.

“You may find this whole enterprise repulsive, but I built a fortune by it large enough to convince your father to accept my marriage contract. It is not illegal in any shape of the word. You need to stop applying your damned Victorian principles to everything. You’re a Francinian now.”

I gasped as replaying Rother’s history in my head made a frightful connection. “Your first client. The Victorian lord… he wasn’t my father, was he? Is that why he agreed?”

If it was possible to roll your eyes in anger, Rother succeeded. “Oh please, Nathan. This isn’t some dubious fiction. Your father agreed because I could well afford the dowry. It was strictly business. Just like everything, no matter how decadent, that goes on in Delaga House.”

Humiliated didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. It was a far fetched idea and I wished I’d never uttered it.

“Do you need more details at this point?” he snarled.

I shook my head. I’d had more than enough for now and I didn’t know what to do with my newfound knowledge.

“I need to go,” he said. “Delaga House is still open. You were fortunate to be born into your wealth and privilege. Some of us had to earn it. I have work to do and as the proprietor, I’m not accustomed to explaining myself.” Rother stepped in close and lowered his voice. “I expect the people under me—all of them—to do what they’re told.”

I nodded with full understanding for the first time since I arrived. “All right. I’ll be staying up here for the rest of the evening.”

“An excellent idea.” As he strode out of the room he waved to remnants of my escape. “If you get bored, you can put the door and lock to rights before I get back.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 26

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I skipped using a prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to fit it in and this chapter had to be specific.

Rother comes to see Nathan after the incident.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 26

“What the hell?”

Rother stood in the hall, starring at the disconnected door.  His face was stoic, revealing little, yet every ounce of his natural fluidity was gone, his stance rigid and tense. The short time we’d spent together taught me enough of his mannerisms. He was furious.

Stepping into the room, Rother’s words quick and clipped. “I’d like a private word with my husband.”

Blythe snorted. “Or at least as private as it gets with the door off its hinges.”

The glare Rother threw his way made the enormous bodyguard snap to attention, schooling his features.

“Right, boss.”

Rother turned away, eyeing the lock innards as Blythe stepped out into the hallway. He paused for a second and met my eye, smirking while tapping a giant finger to his left temple. Then he was gone, leaving me with my husband.

Striding into my personal space, Rother grabbed my chin, turning my head to peer at the growing bruise along my cheek. I jerked out of his hand.

“Please, I’ve been manhandled enough for one evening.”

“Are you injured?”

“No, thanks to Blythe’s timely intervention.”

As open to the world the bedroom currently was, I felt safer here in its newly gained familiarity. My hands no longer shook, but unease filled me as I recalled the incident in the pantry. One could only guess the direction it could have taken without Blythe’s arrival. The thought made me shudder. If Rother was relieved I came out of it relatively unscathed, he gave no sign. His jaw was set tight as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I can’t tell if you’re more angry at me, or Mr. Lorings’ trespass,” I said.

“I can’t either.”

His response left me vexxed and… disappointed. My husband wasn’t displaying concern over my well being enough to overpower his annoyance over my breaking a rule. It wounded me. Shouldn’t I be more of a priority? Or was this more Franincian culture nonsense I would need to accept?

“What took you so long? I’ve been out of the room for quite some time.”

“One, I wasn’t excepting to need to look out for you. Two, I was dealing with client accounts. I came as soon as Samantha found me.”

I challenged his annoyance with a level of sarcasm that would make my mother proud. “Thank you for coming.”

“I shouldn’t have had to.”

“I’m so sorry to have interrupted your precious meeting. I can see how important they are to you.”

“I can’t believe you couldn’t follow a simple instruction.” He motioned to the splayed out lock mechanism parts. “Or did this.”

“You shouldn’t have locked me in the room without my permission.”

Rother brushed his knuckle along the tender spot on my cheek, making me hiss. “And look what happened when you let yourself free.”

“You should have told me about your business practices.”

“Yes, because once you found out, you handled it so well.”

“I would have been better prepared—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nathan. You’ve lived your whole life sequestered in a cage of Victorian morality. For all your intellect, the differences in Francinian life are enough to have you off your center. I didn’t explain because you weren’t ready to know.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “For fuck’s sake, you can’t even call it what it is. Business practices. You cringe at the words, brothel and casino, as if the sound could physically do you harm.”

I hated that I did exactly as he said at each vulgar word. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s the truth. I’m sorry you don’t like hearing it.”

And I didn’t like it. It stung my ego worse than the burn across my cheek. Even so, it hardly seemed fair to leave me in the dark and expect me to be a doting spouse who did what he was told. Our marriage was rushed, but whatever gave him the idea I would be so passive?

Rother stepped over the side table along the wall, pouring himself a drink from the brass and crystals decanters. He rubbed his temple, sighing as he took a stiff draught.

“You are my husband. Your protocol skills will be a great asset once you learn how to acclimate.”

“You make me sound like an employee.”

He narrowed his gaze at me.“My employees do as they’re told.”

I was tempted to note how as his husband, I had more intimate knowledge of him than his employees, but given the nature of his business, I didn’t need to be proven wrong there either. “I’ll remember that.”

My vigor began to flee me. The entire evening was filled with too many harsh events, it left my motor unwound. I began to pace in a slow circle as I tried to collect my thoughts.

I pushed down my hostile tone, assuming I’d get better answers if I adopted a calmer voice. “Can you explain this to me?”

“Which part?”

My shoulders gave up, and my body followed. I slumped down to sit on the edge of the bed. I could learn to accept the gambling, as distasteful as I found the practice. But the other half of his vice den…

“The…”—I took a deep breath—“brothel.”  My face had to be crimson. The idea left me so offended, and saying it out loud was an effort. But if Rother was going to take me seriously, I needed to learn to get past my reservations.

“What requires explanation?”

I shook my head, disbelieving he didn’t understand me. “Of all professions…” I rubbed my face, trying to not to shout out how horrific I found all of this. “You’re far from penniless. How could your fortune be embroiled in all this?”

Rother downed the last of his drink and faced me with a cocked brow. “How could it be embroiled? Nathan, I’m assuming to protect your fragile sensibilities, you’re failing to realize the obvious. My entire fortune is based on all this.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Happy New Year! New Projects are on the horizon

It’s a brand new year

Can you believe it? 2015 is gone and it was a good year.

I published 2 novels with Wayward Ink Publishing, from my sci-fi series Ship Logs of the Santa Claus. Book One – The Luxorian Fugitive and Book Two – A Cook’s Tale. (Links above in the menu) As well as having a short story, Cardinal Sins, in Wayward Ink’s Of Heaven and Hell anthology.

That’s a lot for this newbie.

I have a number of projects to get into and had to make a schedule for the first half of the year that includes revising and preparing the next Santa Claus tales for submission in Jaunary as well as digging into at least two more novels this year. They’re in progress and need some love. I’m trying to not make too many promises with my schedule, but I have lots of potential stories to work with.

So stay tuned! There’s more to come. I’m not quite dead yet. lol

Let’s see what I can accomplish in 2016!

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 25

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I skipped using a prompt. Don’t hate me, it was all holiday related and didn’t fit. lol

An unexpected encounter.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 25

I believe I forgot to breathe or move during the short wait for Samantha’s arrival. Her dress clung to every curve, all black leather, buckled and strapped together. The skirt front was split open, revealing her legs covered in the same fetishist treatment. Vibrant tresses spilling to her shoulders framed her face, makeup accenting her features into something fierce and exotic.

I wasn’t fool enough to ask about the riding crop in her fist.

Samantha took one quick scowl at the stranger as Blythe lowered him to the floor. Placing a hand over his face, she slammed his head against the shelf as she slipped past to kneel before me. He snarled and swore at her, but if she cared, I couldn’t tell.

“Are you all right?” she asked me, inspecting my cheek with a maternal touch. Too stunned with current events, I only nodded.

With a graceful move, Samantha rose, a feral tension coursing through her limbs as she faced the stranger.

“Mr. Lorings, we have staff specifically suited for this kind of encounter. It’s a shame you’re far too stupid to follow a simple set of rules. To keep Blythe—or myself, for that matter—from murdering you this evening, I will be escorting you from the building. You will not be returning. Ever.”

“I paid my money.”

“And it’s now forfeit.”

“That’s not right.”

A sinister grin curled her lips. “Very well. If you insist on staying, we can arrange something more appropriate.” She slapped the tip of her crop against his cheek. “Perhaps a session with me would be in order.”

Mr. Lorings paled.

“Or better yet, I can take you to Lord Delaga and have you explain why you chose his newlywed husband as your companion for the evening. I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear your side of the story.”

A sick sheen burst across his face. “I… I’ll go.”

“I thought so. Come with me to the front door, Mr. Lorings, and be polite. I’d hate to cripple you like a dog in front of all your peers.” Placing a hand at Mr. Loring’s collar, she pulled him from the pantry, pausing to speak to Blythe. “Take Nathan back upstairs and stay with him until Rother arrives. I’ll have him check in shortly.”

As Samantha disappeared, Blythe’s shadow loomed over me. He reached out with one of his enormous hands and I couldn’t help picturing how it restrained Mr. Lorings by the throat. His fingers brushed my arm and I shrugged him off as I found my feet. I could hold onto the threads of my dignity, such as it was. I’d been manhandled enough for one night.

“I can walk on my own, thank you.”

Blythe shrugged and led me through the kitchen to the back stairs; his proximity couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t touch me, but I could feel the wall of his stature. I was still shaken, yet I refused to acknowledge it. However, no matter much Blythe chaffed me at times, I couldn’t be so rude as not to admit his aid earlier.

“Thank you for earlier,” I said.

“I’m Rother’s bodyguard, and yours too now. It’s my job.”

I nodded. “Even so, I’m glad you take your job seriously.”

“He didn’t hurt you?”

“Nothing that won’t heal.” I sighed as we walked, taking in the rustic splendor of the decor. “I suppose the fantasy would have to come to an end soon.”

“How do you mean?”

I gave a derisive scoff. “Please. After finally escaping my father, I’m a newly married Victorian lord living in an underground vice den. It’s only a matter of time before the authorities find out and everyone lands in prison.”

The scandal alone would ruin me forever. Perhaps my father planned it. His final vengeance for a loss of honor.

“The constables don’t care about Delaga House.”

I stopped and faced Blythe, aghast at his ignorance. “I hate to remind you, you uneducated oaf, that after the plague the Monarch outlawed all immoral acts that would drive people away from home and family. That includes gambling, and… inappropriate liaisons for money.”

The scar on Blythe’s face twisted into a deeper snarl than usual. “You just sit in your own little world, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Victoria’s history doesn’t mean a damn in Francine. The Victorian plague didn’t happen here. None of it matters to us. Your Monarch is a little bitch. He can’t do shit here.”

I winced at his crude language, but it couldn’t dull my curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Blythe’s annoyance pitched into a growl. “Well… my uneducated ass knows none of this is illegal in Francine. You should maybe study up a bit before you start bitching.”

My face heated like I’d been slapped. If he’d used his hand, I doubted it would have stung worse, in spite of his strength. Worse, he was right and I didn’t know how to handle that. Blythe continued up the stairs and I followed, stunned by the reversal in our roles. Neither of us said a word until we arrived in the hallway.

“Holy shit. What happened?”

Oh. Yes. In all the chaos, I’d forgotten the bedroom door was lying in the corridor. I raised my chin, refusing to be embarrassed.

“I didn’t appreciate being locked in my room.”

Blythe burst out laughing. “I hope Rother let’s me stay and watch when he gets back. I’d give my left nut for admission.”

I couldn’t be sure if his coarseness or his fortune telling of Rother’s reaction rubbed me worse. “Don’t be so droll.”

Blythe stepped inside the bedroom and found the dismantled lock on the table. He spent far too much time assessing each screw and gear for my liking. His deadpan reply did nothing to reassure me.

“I’ll give you a bit of advice. There’s a vein on Rother’s left temple that stands out and throbs when he’s really pissed. You might want to keep an eye out for it.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Merry Christmas! A Free Read Gift to you all!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

I’ve had a wonderful day of food, gifts, and fun so to share my holiday spirit, I’m sharing a free story that will be featured in the next few days on Gay Authors.org. It originally posted last December as part of GA’s 2014 Winter Anthology – Chain Reaction.

It’s my twisted holiday tale called Rudolph’s Tijuana Christmas.

While everyone else gets reviews saying, “That’s so lovely” or “Your story warms my heart“, I was getting a slew of “What The Fuck did I just read?”

Click below if you want to see what my brain conjures up when I let it run loose for the Christmas season.

Click here to read about Rudolph!

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 24

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I skipped using a prompt. Don’t hate me, it was all holiday related and didn’t fit. lol

An unexpected encounter.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 24

The hand on my arm spun me, facing me with a stranger. Towering over me, the man was unshaven with the clothing of a local businessman—less than a lord, but more than a peasant.

“Aren’t you a pretty one.”

Without releasing me, he took a step forward, which I matched, shifting away. I was already unsettled from being slapped with the reality of Rother’s business, but now a new kind of wariness began to take hold. His lidded stare raked me from top to bottom as he licked his lower lip.

His coarse chuckle made my spine shiver. “No one said Delaga House had acquired new stock.”

I was still reeling from the knowledge of my husband’s illegal gambling house. Now, a new sensation took hold. Everything about this man made me feel like skittish prey. Nothing felt safe and his lock on my arm instilled a growing need to flee inside me. I couldn’t find the words to respond. My skin crawled from his body heat’s proximity. He kept advancing and I kept retreating. So intent on creating some distance, I hadn’t realized he’d herded me into the kitchen pantry. It’s tight confines did nothing to ease my fears.

His dirty smile grew as he groped himself with his free hand. “C’mon, boy. Let’s you and me head upstairs where I can give you a proper rogering.”

Excuse me? I wasn’t clear on the vulgar term, but his actions said all I needed to know. The unease flared into unparalleled disgust. Furious, I wrenched my arm out of his grasp. The practiced sneer on my face couldn’t be taken as anything but offense.

“Even if I had such an inclination to do that with anyone here,” I scoffed. “It certainly would not be with the likes of you.”

He snarled even as his backhand struck me across the cheek faster than I could track. My head jerked to the side and struck something hard. Pain flared across my face and temple. Jars rattled on the shelf as my legs buckled and I felt myself collapse to the floor.

“Little pissant bastard!”

Only my father had ever struck me so hard. My first instinct was to curl up and take my punishment; it would all be over soon if I was patient. The memory of laying bruised and battered for hours on the cold stone tile welled in me. I recalled the first time my father vented his fury on me after my failed attempt at removing the chastity belt. I could still hear my mother’s feeble advice: Weather out the storm, it can’t last long.

But my father wasn’t here anymore. Lord Arthur Valencus lost his power over me the second the Vicar pronounced Rother and I wed. Never again. I no longer needed to accept it. Dazed and disoriented, I refused to lay back and take this abuse any longer.

A swift kick lifted me briefly off the floor, stealing my breath and stalling my revival.

“You think you’re so much better than me?—Agh!”

The stranger’s scream startled me. I threw my arms over my head to protect myself as a series of shouts and crashes rained above me, making me flinch. Head swimming, each inhale froze as I struggled to make my lungs work.

The noises settled as my gasps relaxed and I found breath once again. I opened my eyes and when the world stopped spinning I was stunned by the sight.

The stranger’s feet dangled a few inches above the floor, his heels rattling the food stock on the shelves. Gasping for air, he made a futile effort to dislodge Blythe’s enormous hand gripping his throat.

“What the hell you think you’re up to?” The otherwise rugged lines in Blythe’s face were etched deep and his skin flushed red. He was incensed. Every muscle in his body tensed, swollen in rage. I feared his garments might burst the seams. Blythe’s size alone could intimidate the strongest man—but as livid as he was—I worried the man in his grasp would wet himself involuntarily. Even so, he struggled to maintain his dignity as he was held aloft and helpless.

“I paid my money,” the stranger hissed. “I was told I could have any of them I wanted.”

If it was possible, Blythe’s anger swelled beyond its previous state. He shook the hapless idiot, shouting in his face as he pointed at me with his free hand. “He is not one of the whores!”

The burning ache along my cheek lost its importance as I absorbed his meaning. Vivian chatting with wealthy businessmen. Male employees being the best friends of the clients. Let’s you and me head upstairs where I can give you a proper rogering. My initial assessment of Rother’s holdings was far broader and far worse than I imagined.

“How would I know?”

“You ask, you stupid shit,” Blythe snarled.

“Let go of me.”

Blythe lowered his voice, his face so close, each harsh syllable brushed the stranger’s skin, making him wince. “Shut it before I remove your balls with my bare hands and let him kick the shit out of your skull.”

Each growling word held a promise of violence. It frightened me, yet bolstered my confidence to have such a man defending me. I hadn’t expected such a show of loyalty from Blythe. My first impression of him held little positive details. Perhaps I was beginning to evolve after all.

It all balanced on a thin edge. The stranger fixated on Blythe who looked moments away from committing a murder. I had to remind myself to breathe.

One of the waiters appeared in the doorway and stopped. His eyes grew wide as he took in the scene before him. Blythe wasted no time getting his full attention.

“Go get Samantha! Now!” he barked.

The waiter startled and dashed off with an anxious nod. Blythe had yet to release the stranger. I had no idea what would happen next.

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Shades Champion by Cheryl Headford #giveaway

Author Name: Cheryl Headford

Book Length: 214 Pages

Book Name: Shade’s Champion

Release Date: 18th December 2015

Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing

Cover Art by: Kellie Dennis: Book Covers by Design

Shade has been kept in the dark for eight long years. Now he’s facing a world that terrifies him. A world that seems to hold no place for him.

When the authorities are unable to find a home for Shade, Penny, reluctantly accepts him into the secure school she manages, despite thinking it’s the wrong place for him. Penny fears for his safety among the other troubled children. In an attempt to forestall the disaster she predicts will happen she appoints one of them as his champion.

Dory, an engaging seventeen year old with mental health issues, is proud to be chosen as Shade’s champion and throws his heart and soul into the job. In doing so he is forced to face the thing he fears most – his own emotions.

An unexpected friendship begins to grow into something more, until a spiteful act tears them apart and leaves them broken.

When Dory falls ill, Shade is forced to face his demons and struggles to find the strength and courage he needs to fight for the right to love, and to be there for his champion when he needs him most.

Cheryl was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.

Cheryl has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.

Later in life, Cheryl became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.

It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.

In present times, Cheryl lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son and menagerie of three cats, a dog and a dragon. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close.

Immersed, as always, in the world of fantasy, she maintains a burning desire to share the stories and these days it’s in the form of books which all contain her spark and unique view on life, the universe and everything.

PRE-ORDER LINKS

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/shades-champion-by-cheryl-headford/

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-shade039schampion-1940720-145.html

TRAILER:

https://youtu.be/9RVTtEPOAyk

Excerpt

“You’re sixteen. A year younger than me. I’m seventeen, but only just gone. One more year and I’ll get to leave. I don’t know where I’ll go, though.” He heard the nervousness creep into his voice and tried to swallow it. Shade didn’t need to have his worries on top of his own.

Shade didn’t seem to notice. He was thinking hard.

“Sixteen’s not very old, is it?”

“No, not very. Well, not at all really. You’re not a grown up yet. I don’t think I’ll ever be a grown up, but I guess you will. You weren’t put together wrong, just… broken a bit.”

Shade laughed. “Broken a lot.”

“Hmm. I don’t think so.”

“How would you know?”

“I can see it in your eyes. There have been broken people here before and there’s something scary in their eyes. Your eyes aren’t scary at all.”

“Really? They feel scary to me.”

“How can eyes feel scary? Oh, you’re teasing me.” Dorien had caught a certain twinkle, and it made him feel excited. Shade wasn’t so shut down after all. There was a nice person in there waiting to come out, Dorien was sure of it.

Shade’s smile faded. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I feel…. I don’t know.”

“Did that horrible doctor give you more meds?”

“Horrible?” Shade opened his eyes and blinked at him. He looked confused, but that humour was lurking in the shadows again.

“Oh yes. I had to go to a meeting to decide if I’m up to being your friend. My doctor was there and so was yours. They were almost fighting because yours is horrible and mine is nice. Penny got cross, too, and she told him that if he didn’t stick to the point she’d throw him out. Well, she didn’t exactly say that, but it was implied. Penny often does that, kind of not saying things, but you know what she means.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

“Sorry, am I talking too fast again?”

“No, well… yes. I… I have trouble following. It’s….”

“Oh. That’s okay. I get like that sometimes when the doctors change my meds. Dr. Blake says the best thing to do is get up and walk it off. You should do that. Hey, I can show you around. No one told me we have to stay here.”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel so good. I want to just lie and—”

“But that would be boring for me.”

“You said it was okay to go to sleep.”

“Well, I didn’t really mean it, and anyway, I didn’t know then how much fun you are.” “I am?” He sounded so surprised Dorien had to smile.

“Yes, you are. Come on, get up. By the time you get to the end of the corridor you’ll be fine. Have you got a really fuzzy head? I hate that. It doesn’t happen much anymore, but I get it a lot after an episode or when they’re changing my meds. It will go away. Do you need me to help you?”

“I… think…. Dorien, I don’t this is a good idea.”

“Call me Dory. Come on, up you get. I’ll help you.”

“No, I….”

No matter how much Shade protested, Dorien was single-minded. He just knew Shade would be okay once he was on his feet.

Groaning but compliant, Shade allowed Dorien to haul him up to sit on the edge of the bed. He bowed his head, his hands resting on his knees. “Give me a minute.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel right. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“No, you won’t. Once you start walking you’ll feel better.”

“Are you sure?” Shade looked up at him, his honeyed eyes wide and bright. Something inside Dorien went shivery.

“Yes. Give me your hands.”

Shade’s hands were cold but sweating. Dorien gripped them tightly and dragged Shade to his feet. Shade staggered forward and almost knocked Dorien over .

“Shit. Be careful. You’re bigger than me. You’ll break me.”

“Not bigger.”

“Nope, you’re definitely bigger. I’m a long string of nothing. Rich says that when he’s teasing me about how much I eat. I eat a lot but I never seem to put weight on. I think it’s because I do everything fast. I—are you alright? You’ve gone awfully pale.”

“No.” Shade mumbled something else, Dorien couldn’t hear.

“What did you say? Can’t you stand up properly now? You’re too heavy.”

Shade raised his head and met Dorien’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, then his eyes rolled and he collapsed, unconscious.

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I have two copies of the ebook to give away to randomly selected commenters on the Shade’s Champion cover reveal or blog post on my website http://cherylheadford.com/