As promised, here is a little taste of my soon-to-be-released novel, Slave Master’s Choice. The book will be available in November from Loose-ID. Enjoy!
Enslaved in a hostile kingdom, the sexual plaything of an enemy king, a beautiful slaveboy soon discovers captivity is more liberating than freedom.
Enslaved! When Alejandro finds himself captured and taken into slavery in the hostile kingdom of Inemor, his first priority is getting free and going home. The last thing he expects is to become His Majesty’s favorite plaything. But between his natural penchant for the touch of a man–a thing forbidden in his homeland– and the sensual attentions of the charismatic slave master, he discovers captivity is far more liberating than freedom.
Once a pleasure slave himself, Kedmund is now master of the king’s elite cadre of playmates, a post which grants him sexual access to any slave at any time. But no man has ever touched his heart until Alejandro. Though he fights his attraction to the beautiful slaveboy, he finds himself continually drawn in, risking more with each encounter until desire becomes his greatest nemesis.
But when murder is done and Alejandro is accused, the ultimate question of loyalty or love threatens both their lives and all that matters is the Slave master’s Choice.
Copyright 2011 by Kimberly Gardner, all rights reserved.
The figure strode out of the middle of a group of soldiers. The man was not especially tall, not much taller than many of the others, in truth, but he held himself in a way that conveyed stature, not just physical height but personal worth, as if he knew his place and was totally comfortable with it.
His pale hair hung in a thick braid down his back, and though he didn’t wear a uniform, his clothing was fine and his boots shone in the bright sunlight. So he was most likely a nobleman with some servant or servants to care for him and his possessions.
Interesting the way the soldiers deferred to him even though his attire showed no rank. Perhaps he was military and just not wearing his uniform?
The new man walked to the head of the line of prisoners, said something to the soldier standing there, and glanced over the assemblage of bedraggled and exhausted men before beginning a slow and deliberate pacing along the line. He dismissed most with little more than a glance. A few he studied briefly before continuing on. He reached one man about a third of the way through the line and a dozen or so prisoners away from where Alejandro stood. He pointed to the man and said something that might have been this one to the soldier at his side. The soldier signaled, and the man was pulled from the line and led away.
A slave trader perhaps?
Except that made no real sense since technically, if the gray-eyed prisoner was correct, they were all destined for slavery of one kind or other. So why would this man be selected for some other purpose?
Alejandro’s head throbbed and spun with all the possibilities. It was too much to guess at. But this kind of guesswork did little more than tire the guesser. Better to save his energy and mental acuity for whatever would come next.
The man continued his inspection, walking along the queue, each step bringing him closer to where Alejandro waited.
Relaxing his stance, Alejandro readied himself.
And the man stopped. His gaze flicked over the next prisoner, dismissed him, then came to rest on Alejandro.
They were caught somewhere between blue and gray, the same shade as winter skies back home in Lorale. Eyes that color should be cold, but they weren’t. No, this man’s eyes burned with an unnerving intensity, as if they could see down into Alejandro’s most secret soul and knew all his most private desires, the ones that could bring him imprisonment or even death under Loralean law.
The blond man’s gaze flicked over him, head to toe in a single glance, listing and categorizing his assets, then storing them away for future reference.
Alejandro felt stripped, more naked than if every stitch had been ripped from his body.
“This one,” the man said to the guard. His gaze lingered another moment on Alejandro; then he gave an almost imperceptible nod before turning his attention to the next man in line.
Written by Kimberly Gardner
As early as the seventh grade, Kimberly remembers slashing her favorite rockstars and reading romance. So it’s not surprising that her two passions, romance and putting pretty boys with other pretty boys, should come together in her writing. Moliere said, “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money.” Kimberly is delighted to finally be doing it for money.
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