Scion House of Bardin

Scion House of Bardin

After eight years as a rebellious sex slave on the planet Thelona, Lela is weary and jaded. When she is purchased in the public square by a bored aristocrat, she hopes he will tire of her and let her go work in his kitchens. Caius, forced into the lifestyle of the idle rich by his return to Thelona after eight exciting years in the Mercenary Corps, thinks he has only bought a night’s pleasure. Two restless kindred spirits who won’t be tamed, they never expect what happens next.

Reviewed by Got Erotic Romance

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Ice Maiden (The Chronicles of Alcinia: Part 3)

Ice Maiden (The Chronicles of Alcinia: Part 3)

Blurb: When a simple farm girl attracts the notice of the King’s half brother, it leads to a dazzling world of privilege, intrigue, war and passion. EXCERPT: Snow lay on the ground. It was only first snow, a taste of winter, but enough to let us follow churned-up prints and splotches of blood down the slope towards the beach. That was where our men had made their stand. I saw that the ships that had brought us supplies had been roped together to make a great floating platform and put out to sea away from the beach to intercept ships coming in. A second line—of men—seemed to have been deployed on the beach. There were bodies there and in the water with more washing up, and a few ships half sunk in the tide, their sails burned. Everything smelled charred. There were Havacians and Omanis on the beach, helping the injured—ours, at least. If they were Armatican, that was their last dawn. No one would bring them to us for care. My lord was easy to spot. He was taller even than most Havacians, and he was unhelmeted. I wondered with a sense of exasperation if he had even bothered to shield his head. That man was born for battle. Probably he had enjoyed it. Son of a general indeed. Now I believed it. Regardless, I went down to him through small hummocks of bodies and battle gear strewn across snow and sand. All of the women were looking for their men, and now I was one of them. He was flushed with cold and battle fever, still carrying a gory sword that he plunged into the snow as though cleaning it, but he was not. He didn’t want me to see the blood, but I caught his distinct look of victory touching on defiance as he did it. He was what he was, that look said. Take it or leave it. This now blood-drenched island was not what I had ever envisioned as a home. He was not the man I’d thought of in my dreams. I had never had much time for dreams, anyway, and I wouldn’t now—there was going to be too much work to do. But I thought now I would do it with him.

The Chronicles of Alcinia- Heart of the Earth

The Chronicles of Alcinia- Heart of the Earth

Blurb:

Robbed of her husband by the arrows of assassins, Tia must flee to the Northern Prince who has always wanted her. But the price of Hilgi’s protection is too high. Separated from her land and her Goddess, can Tia find a way to return to them…and to a love that may redeem her?

Congers Review   index004007 (1)    

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Peace on New Earth

Peace on New Earth

Blurb:

On the planet Megasta, colonists live in an uneasy peace with native tribes until the advent of Terran fever threatens their tenuous coexistence. Can the efforts of a medical technician from Old Earth and her love for a Megasti man avert bloodshed between their people?

Invanine

Invanine

Blurb:

He was her slave in one land, her lover in another. When the king’s sister saves a rebel from a troubled province, her act of mercy changes her life irrevocably and influences the course of her country’s future.

EXCERPT:
When they made the long slow turn at the river, she caught a glimpse of the rear of the procession. Yes, there were the prisoners still, most of them somehow still walking though they were roped to horses that dragged them every inch of the way. The riders seemed careful not to kill them just yet, which suggested an even worse fate when they reached the city once more. Some sort of execution platform would have been erected in their absence—something that didn’t require too much time. Lucien would not give rebels the honor of a protracted lifespan, though he might draw out their deaths if it pleased him. She already knew it would please him.
That was why she maneuvered Cloud adroitly to come up beside him when they reached the square in Primecta. He nodded very slightly, signifying that she might join him.
“You do me credit, Sister,” he complimented her. “Most women shrink from flaying.”
It explained the relative lack of preparation. Little panoply was required to simply whip a man to death in the street.
“Oh, I shrink, Lucien,” she assured him, with a brilliant carmine smile for the onlookers. “But never in public. I only thought…”—she let her smile grow winsome, “…perhaps as an act of mercy you might give me one for a slave. You did not gift me for my birthday, after all.”
“The horse was your gift,” he said, shortly, but she could see the thought had engaged him. Crowds were fickle. There was no telling how the people would react to the first public execution in years, though his agents had been hard at work stirring up emotion against Parthia. His father had left him an untroubled kingdom. Now, under governance of the stick, there were rumors of dissent.
“Just one?” she wheedled. “I care not which.”
“Oh, all right,” he said, with an eye to the crowd. “You choose. If you let him escape, however, I will not forget it.”
Invanine surveyed the motley bunch, her heart beating strongly. Lucien did not have a forgiving nature. Was it worth risking his anger to save a life? Her slaves never tried to escape; they knew how good they had it. It would be a real headache containing one who did want to leave. And yet—this was neither war nor sport. It was slaughter. Her hunter’s heart rebelled against it.
There were several men, all gaunt and bearded, all young. Several had sunk to the ground, unable to stand, but the guard had not bothered to beat them for it. They were going to die momentarily, so why bother? A couple were spitting on their captors and those were beaten. Another stood apart showing no emotion—no capitulation, no defiance. He looked like the soul had already left his body. Invanine pointed to him with her quirt.
“That one.”