I have a guest today... Hi Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Hi. Elyzabeth, pull up a chair, and get comfy.

Now let's hear about this great new book, The Mercenary Slave.

Thank you, Raven, for allowing me to visit your blog! When I wrote book one of The Mercenary Tales, The Mercenary Knight, I hadn’t planned to start a series. Somehow, one evening while I was walking the dog I started musing on Wybert and Gregorii and wondering what happened to them after Conrad from book 1 got his HEA. Wybert’s voice was the loudest and I started drafting his story. Initially, this was not going to be a male-male story, but before I knew it, Izz-Sarava was coming into the picture.

Unfortunately, it took me longer than I expected to finish writing The Mercenary Slave because I had to place the novel in the back burner for a few months while I finished my journalism degree. However, once that was done, Wybert demanded I tell his story and, well, read on to find out what happened.

Blurb:

Ambushed, captured and sold...

After losing his best friend, Wybert is forced to give up his life as a mercenary and become a pleasure slave. The daunting task becomes harder than expected when the attraction to his slave master goes beyond the bedchamber.

Izz-Sarava was content with his life as the Zshanti's slave master until the new serf appeared. Somehow, under his presence, his control slips and his heart becomes exposed.

As their feelings develop, will they be able to overcome a past that haunts them to pursue a future together?

Excerpt:

Without knocking, Melassar entered the darkened chamber. It was small, with barely enough space to stand and fully outstretch your arms. If you walked more than two paces in either direction, you’d meet a wall. It was the Sledövat, or Zshanti’s watching cell. Here she would sit and observe her pleasure slaves bathe whenever she pleased. Sometimes, if she so wished, they would be aware of her heavy stares. Other times, they were ignorant to her peering.

The beauty of the Sledövat lay in its splendid peeping panel, designed to trick the person bathing. From inside the water chamber all that was visible was an impressive painting of mermen and merwomen bathing and alluring a boat of sailors. However, small slits were cut across several places in the panel, allowing Zshanti to glance into the room, without hindrance.

She sat now on a low cushion, her chemise gathered at the waist and her long legs crossed before her. Her hands rested on her naked thighs, her nails digging into the soft skin.  Zshanti turned to face him, her sky blue eyes sparkling in the dim light coming from the adjoining room.

“You took long enough, Izz-Sarava. Come here, you are missing quite a spectacle.”

Melassar hurried to his mistress’s side. Though she did not look up at him, he bowed low before taking a seat by her side.

“Look,” she whispered while leaning forward.

Melassar followed her lead. He gasped when he peered into the peephole. Zshanti chuckled softly at his side.

“I know.”

His mouth dried up as he watched the stunning figure of Wybert through the slit. The large man had not wasted any time in undressing after Melassar had left him in the room, instructing him to bathe and don clean clothes. 

Melassar’s cock twitched in his breeches. Wybert stood in the center of the room in all his naked glory. Melassar gulped as Wybert approached the panel. Blood rushed to his cock, hardening it. Wybert was pure muscle, a man made out of stone. The muscles on his arms were defined, the plains of his chest undoubtedly solid, the ridges on his stomach unyielding.

Wybert observed the painted wall for a moment before losing interest. He yawned and stretched, the corded muscles of his biceps tensing as he raised his arms above his head. Melassar’s cock began to throb with need. Abruptly, Wybert stepped away from the wall and turned his back to them, giving them a view of his sculpted ass. Melassar discreetly massaged his cock through his trousers. Slowly, the giant eased himself into the hot tub. Letting out a satisfied sigh, he began to hum a popular ballad while bathing with the scented soap left at his disposal.

A low whimper forced Melassar to regain his bearings. Turning his head, he watched as his mistress dipped her fingers between her folds. She breathed laboriously, her breath coming out in slow pants as her left hand worked furiously at her pussy, drawing circles on her clit with hard strokes. Melassar shifted in his seat and she glanced up at him, a mixture of guilt and pleasure written on her face. Without a word, she removed her hand and they watched in silence for a few more minutes. Finally, Wybert stepped out of the tub.

“Do you think it will fit, Izz- Sarava?”

Melassar stared at Wybert’s organ. Even flaccid it seemed to be long and thick. 

“It will take some getting used to, Zshanti, but I’m certain it will enter.”

His Zshanti nodded enthusiastically. “I can hardly wait for tonight. Come to me after dinner, Izz-Sarava.”

“As you command, Zshanti.” Melassar bowed his head.

Zshanti stood and left the room. Melassar took in a deep breath. The smell of her arousal coupled with his lingered in the air. He leaned towards the peeping slits, palming his cock through his breeches.

Droplets of water stuck to Wybert’s chocolate skin, mingling with the hair on his chest and running down his navel to the nest of hairs over which his marvelous cock rested.  The thought of tasting that body, running his tongue across every plane and ridge made his mouth water. He licked his lips in anticipation. Tonight, but not now. With a regretful sigh, Melassar got on his feet. He squeezed his cock one last time. 

“Duty first,” he chided. His pleasure could wait a little longer. 

 Buy links:

·  Evernight

·  Amazon

·  Amazon UK

·  All Romance Ebooks

Contact Links:

www.inadreambeyond.blogspot.com

www.elyzabethmvaley.weebly.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElyzabethMVaLey/info

Twitter: http://twitter.com/ElyzabethVaLey

Trust Tuesday ...Part Three

Tuesday sagged against the wall, and tried to ignore the sympathetic eyes of his PA.

"I know, I know," she muttered. "You did warn me. Okay peeps, shows over here. If you want more pay to come into the Scarlet Scandal in Limpton St." 

She straightened up and grabbed the long sundress Miriam held out to her, and pulled it over her head. she felt much more in command now.

There were a few good natured groans, and she blushed and giggled nervously. How could she strip down to next to nothing and dance round a shiny pole, but feel embarrassed elsewhere? It was beyond her.

"Miriam?" James' voice was abrupt over the tannoy. "If anyone other than you is still in your office when I enter in precisely thirty seconds, they can collect their severance papers. This is an office, not a..." He stopped speaking.

His employees dispersed faster than she could say 10pm nightly. 

Tuesday grimaced. "Well he can't give me my papers, but I'm going anyway. Next time I come up with some fantastic idea or another to attract his attention, shoot me down. Send me to the Orkney's or Aunt Mary's until I get over it."

Miriam laughed and plugged the coffee pot in.

"Yes, well, since when have you listened to me? How many times have I told you to give up. He might want you, but he won't have you. But do you listen?"

Tuesday heard the sound of a door opening.

"I do now," she said hastily and left the room as if the hounds of hell were after her. In some ways she would say they were!

In the Grand Scheme of Things

I have no right to moan, mump, or be a miserable git.

 I have several friends going through really rough, horrible, awful times at the moment. (You know who you are guys.) And by rough and horrible boy do I mean it. And they are doing it. Getting there, working things through and I love them for it. I could say their courage is amazing, and it is. But it is them, that is who they are.

In the grand scheme of things my aches are but a miniscule speck on the far distant horizon.  These friends have given me a well -needed shake up. I am lucky, and I need to realize it.

Well now I do. So thank you to you all, you will get there I have such faith in you.

Have a great Sunday everyone!

Trust Tuesday... part Two

So Tuesday, is annoying...

Magnificent? He was bloody raging. His cock was on fire, his body throbbing, his mind full of pictures which had nothing to do with work.

Well, not the dealing wheeling work. No, it was full of a more earthy sort of work. Of working on her body, touching filling, fucking! If only he thought, disgusted with the images of her body naked under him, begging for more, he didn't feel like a cradle snatcher when he was with her.

He sighed. There was no point in indulging in 'what only's'. They couldn't change his date of birth, any more than Tuesday could say because she acted older than her years, that bloody age difference didn't matter. To him it did. Hell he didn't give a shit about her job-except seeing those patsies whirling around those luscious breasts was guaranteed to give him an instant hard-on.

He shut the door firmly on her departing back, and his employees. What the hell was he going to do next?

OOPS.. where did my post go?

I have no idea. I had a major glitch-fest and the lap top took a hissy-fit. I blame it on the fact it sees so little warm weather, it overheated and took a cold shower!

Seriously, I lost posts on here and on facebook, as well as some emails. I know, I must have done something, I'm not very techno savvy.

Let's hope this one stays.

The weather has been so mixed lately I reckon I'm in danger of becoming rusty. In my part of Scotland, we've had so little sun, every tiny ray has been greeted with me sitting outside with a book and a cup of coffee. This happens so rarely, my reading is neglected, and my caffeine intake low... however my writing and editing isn't!

Yesterday, in Ripon as I mentioned, it was St Wilfred's festival. One of the floats had to pull out after a short while because the rain, blew their sound system. That's such a shame because they put so much work and effort into them. By the time the procession got to where we stood and watched, the sun was out.

I have great admiration for all those who walked  and morris danced) the route. It's a fair way, and those dancers, both on and off the floats seemed to be non stop dancing.

The early morning has a distinct autumnal feel to it, and it's only August. It even got down to 1deg C in parts of Scotland last week. It's true what they say, The last frost of one year is in July, the first of the next in June. (think about it)

Well it has stopped raining, the sun isn't out, and there's been a heavy dew. I wonder what today will bring?

Have I got another treat for you, Welcome Kastil

Thank you, Raven, for giving me a little space on your blog. Today I bring a preview of my latest book Talbot's Ploy. This started out as a small piece and grew into something much bigger. The more I wrote, the more I wanted to show how passion can grow between two people who least expect it. Well, at least on Maxime's part. Talbot knew exactly what he was doing...naughty boy.

 

The story takes place in 18th century France right after the Revolution. Unfortunately, not everything was liberated at that time. Some things still had to sulk in the shadows. I hope to play with Talbot again as his background into his favored choice in bedmates didn't start within the pages of Talbot's Ploy but we'll get to that at a later date. For now, please enjoy a little tidbit.

 

 

BLURB:
Talbot Sauvageot has kept his wicked lifestyle underground for several years, going from one lover to the next. Decedent rake to females by day, passionate lover for his latest male companion at night. When he is forced to flee Paris or face the guillotine, Talbot realizes none of the men he has bedded over the past years burns at his soul like his dear friend Maxime LaRue.

 

Forced into seclusion in the forest of Bois de Lunor, he receives an invitation from Maxime for their yearly gathering at his estate in Varanguebec. One that Talbot has avoided the past few years. Refusing to submit to a life without love, Talbot schemes to discover if his childhood friend shares the same taste in pleasure as he.

 

Will Maxime submit to Talbot’s ploy or cast his friend in the shadow of death?

 

Excerpt:

 

“What you do is forbidden,” Monsieur Beaumont said.

“Then by all means go and find the magistrate to arrest us for I intend to fuck this night.” Again Talbot suckled at Maxime’s throat, the touch on his shaft more urgent. “We have already been disturbed once by a couple of brigands running through here.”

“Fils de salope. Which way did they go?”

Talbot growled low. “Will you leave if I say and naught speak a word of what you have seen?” Talbot’s last words were clipped on the edge of impatience.

“Oui.”

“They ran off that way.” Talbot’s fingers left Maxime’s cock cold and exposed for a moment before his friend grasped his cock again.

The rustling of the leaves along the ground faded away from Maxime’s ears. His heart pounded in his chest, caught between Talbot’s wicked ministrations and Monsieur Beaumont’s rage.

“Fool,” Talbot muttered before tugging Maxime’s shirt open. He bent and flicked his tongue along the nipple and Maxime hissed.

“Is he not gone?” Maxime whispered.

“Non. He lingers like a sinful man.” Talbot chuckled and bellowed out to the forest around him. “Perhaps you like what you see and wish me to fuck you as well?”

The two friends sniggered when the heavy gallop of a horse faded into the night. Maxime breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at his good friend. Talbot had not stopped his slow tease of Maxime’s cock and buried his head in his chest.

“You may stop, Talbot. He is gone.”

“Non. Do you not remember our misspent younger days?”

Maxime tensed as the tug of his cock increased. He and Talbot had experimented on many levels when they were mere boys. After a few bottles of wine when Maxime’s dad had left on estate affairs, they had found decadent pleasures between the sheets but nothing beyond a gentle stroke. As they grew older, they turned their attention to the females vying for their affections. Maxime had forgotten it and blamed it on his curiosity along with the comfort it brought him after his mother’s sudden death.

“That was a long time ago, my friend. It is not necessary.”

“Oui, it is. My cock found pleasure buried in the sheath of the exquisite Jacinthe Beaumont. Had I known her sister would not offer herself to the handsome Maxime Jean de Valette, visconte de LaRue, I would have shared Jacinthe with you. You are my only friend in this world.”

“You are drunk.”

“Madly so.” Talbot flashed a wicked smile before he dropped to his knees. Maxime snatched his friend’s hair, intent on jerking his head away from his erection but as lips met the shaft, his breath hitched. The beauty of Talbot’s darting tongue and hand working his phallus could not be denied. He gripped his deviant companion’s head and forced more of his cock into his mouth. Many women had tasted his girth but none made him shatter as Talbot did. He throbbed with need to release but steeled himself for a few more forceful pumps into his friend’s greedy mouth. The thought of his seed mingling with the wine of the bottle and of Jacinthe made him lose his control. He cried out into the still night as he sprayed the back of his friend’s throat.

****

http://kastil.wordpress.com/2012/07/31/release-day-talbots-ploy/

If you want to follow Kastil here's the stalking links...

Stalking Links:
Blog: http://kastil.wordpress.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/KastilEavenshade
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/PamBitner
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5283903.Kastil_Eavenshade

 

 Oh wow... dashing off with my debit card. see you in a bit!

 

Here's how you can do the same

http://www.amazon.com/Talbots-Ploy-ebook/dp/B008R3OFNA/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1343731338&sr=1-3

 

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/talbots-ploy-by-kastil-eavenshade/ 

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-talbot039sploy-903011-145.html

http://www.bookstrand.com/talbots-ploy-mm

Trust tuesday.. so you can catch up.

A while ago I started this on another blog. Now I think it's worth finishing. First though, I'll give you a chance to catch up...

Trust Tuesday! What the fuck was she playing at? Gail Porter she wasn't. She'd been blond.

After a near miss with the car park entrance, James had the car parked, in his designated place, engine off and his mobile out in record time. It was answered just as swiftly.

"Oosie? What the fuck is that all about. On the side of my headquarters, for God's sake. How the hell do I go in and face my employees now? After they've all looked at a five storey high projection of your rear?"

 Not that it wasn't a bloody gorgeous rear and an amazingly pert ass, that wasn't the point. The fact it was on show in its all it's five storey glory, where the world and his wife could see it, including all two hundred plus employees of Clancy International was. Especially with the bye line... 'See what you are giving up?' She was even peering over her shoulder, long russet hair pushed seductively to one side.

"Like it?" The voice was light, bubbly, and he hoped with a little bit of tension in it. Well if it wasn't now, it would be soon. "I told you, Jamie, you'd learn what you're missing. Your loss."

"Get it taken down. Now. And for fucks sake do not call me Jamie"

"No can do, Jamie my love. Agree to either of your oh so delicately couched demands. Sorry. I'm not there, I'm here. You're there, and really I can't believe you haven't ordered it to be removed."

Neither could he. It should have been his first action, instead of confronting her. She didn't sound the least bit sorry, rather gleeful and teasing, damn her. Why couldn't she accept it was over?

"Oosie." He warned. "Give it up. I've told you, it's a no go."

"Never. If it doesn't bother me, why should it bother you? You're a coward Jamie Clancy. A wuss. You're denying something beautiful and great on a stupid sense of chivalry that I don't even want."

"It's over." He reiterated. "Accept it."

"In your dreams, Jamie. Check your office." The phone went dead. What the hell did she mean by that.? Tuesday Anna-Maria Benedetti was proving even more stubborn than he was.

He opened the door.

He stared.Stared and glared. What the hell was that? More to the point, how did she arrange it? Behind him, he heard his P.A. clear her throat nervously and stifle a laugh.

“What the f...?” She did laugh then, and he turned round and stared at her instead of the room that had been his orderly office.

“Miriam?”

She shook her head, a forty-something, elegant, super-efficient and happily married blond, most of his execs were more than half in lust with her.

 “Nothing to do with me. I only got in five minutes before you, and being the non-pc person I am, I was getting the coffee machine going. I hadn’t opened your door. So sorry, no idea, but um, it’s certainly different.”

Oh it was that all right. Different was an understatement.

“Get maintenance up here.” He said grimly. “And find out who was responsible for this, this fiasco.” He waved his hands in disgust.

Miriam laughed again, her eyes sparkling.

“I’d say Tuesday, wouldn’t you? Trust Tuesday to think of something like this.”

Trust Tuesday. Huh, he’d trust her all right. Trust her not to accept his diktat and make his life... Make it what? Interesting? Difficult? Brighter? Happy? No James, do not go there he told himself. It’s over. Your choice. If she can’t accept it, that’s her choice.

“Just get maintenance, Miriam,” he said wearily. He ran his hand over his short cropped hair, quashing the spark of amusement that tempered his irritation. What the hell was he going to do? “I’ll take my coffee into my lounge, and read through the Wilkins report. We'll work in here and the lounge until that.” He waved his hand in the direction of his office, “that whatever you call it is sorted out.

She nodded and handed him a mug of coffee strong enough stand the spoon up, before picking up the phone. James turned around, away from the irritation of his office, had a thought and turned back to Miriam. “Oh and get someone to remove Tuesday’s attributes from the side of the building will you? Thanks.”

He moved across the office, and opened another door.

To walk straight into another irritation.

“Tuesday. What the fuck are you doing here? Dressed, or hell, undressed like that? Now what the fuck is this?" James stared. For one moment he thought he was hallucinating. 

"Your nemesis, my love. I told you, you're screwed. I love you J. You said you loved me, and then you blow me off because I was too young. Or so you said. Too young, or because the way I earn my money for uni doesn't fit in with your starched corporate life style? Boring J. Very, very boring. and I thought better of you."

He watched one bare shoulder lift and fall. His cock tightened and he felt the papers he was holding slip from his grasp

"For fucks sake Oosie, this is my office, you're sat on that settee knickers half off and say ..." He was lost for words.

"That I love you?" She offered helpfully. "I do you moron. Our age difference is bugger all. It's my work you can't hack. Be honest. Having a girlfriend, fiancee wife like me is a no go according to you." He winced, and she grimaced. "You asked me, " she reminded him. "I said yes. I haven't changed my mind, but I can't change my age and I bloody won't change my proffession. Build a bridge and get over it."

"Or? Breech of promise doesn't exist any more." He was taunting her. "Shall I strip off and show you what your recalcitrance means you are missing?" His hands went to the top of his trousers.

"Oh please do." She was all but purring.

Enough. "That's enough Ossie. I can't accept this and so it's better we split. If nothing else it shows how unsuited we are." He watched,as her face fell, defeated.

"You think so?

He sighed.

"Ah Ossie, I know so."

"Oh well. So be it." He watched in fascinating horror, as she finished removing her hot red panties. underneath was a bright red thong. Her top followed and she stood up. Proud in her undress. Red stocking, red thong and red nipple tassels. All the accessories for the lap dancing club she worked at. 

"What the fuck?"

She smiled. sex, lust and sorrow? All mingled there.

"Ah Well, J. I'm late for work." She stood tall and proud. In horror he watched as she opened the door, her body on display for his gawping employes, who if by osmosis had gathered in the corridor.

As she reached the door she turned.

"Darling." Her voice as befitting a drama student carried to all  corners."You were magnificent."

TB C