Abiron and Ariana are working to convert Sister Angela and Brother Paul to the worship
of the Deity. But time is running out. Gambling with their country's future, they
decide to show the Christians how the common folk of Heklos live. But knowledge is
a two-edged sword. How will two people sworn to celibacy react when confronted with
the sexual freedom the people of Heklos enjoy? Anger, passion, and betrayal all mingle,
and in the center of it all is the woman who will become...The Monk's Lover.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Though Abiron had served her well and lustily over the past several days, this
close to the sacred fire she could feel the Wanton rising within her. Her breasts
warmed, and she felt a corresponding heat deep within her core. Unwillingly, she
thought back to the sight of Paul, naked and dripping in the bathing pool. How sweet
would it be, she thought, to take him, here and now. She clenched her teeth and fought
back a surge of desire, moaning silently.
“Ariana! How wonderful to see you again!”
Her eyes popped open and she saw her old friend Pathia. She had changed little
over the years. Shorter and more slender than Ariana, she had an open, expressive
face and red hair that was a gift from some long-ago barbarian ancestor. With a cry
of joy Ariana embraced her. For a moment, the Wanton fought free, and hidden from
Paul's view by her body, her hand rose up and caressed Pathia's back. In turn, she
felt Pathia's hand on her belly, stroking softly.
“Naughty, shameful thing,” whispered Pathia hotly into her ear. “Do you have
time for a romp?”
At the conclusion of “The Monk's Lover,” Sister Angela, nun of Christ, gave herself
to Abiron, High Priest of the Deity. But the road of their love is still thick with
obstacles. Abiron and his mother, High Priestess Ariana, must find a way to thwart
the will of those who would wish to invade their land. Their opponents are many,
their allies few and scattered. What surprises lie in store for Abiron, Angela, Paul,
and Ariana on the day of…The Maiden's Choice?
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“Pray, tell me,” he continued, striving for the tone and rhythm of the plays
he sometimes attended in the town, “Are you well? You come to me so disheveled that
I must think those bandits have done you an injury.”
“Nay, my good Captain, for you arrived in time to save my virtue, if I had any
virtue to be saved,” she said with a throaty laugh. Her hands drifted lower, teasing
his body. “Indeed, I was impressed by the work you did with your...sword. Please,
accompany me to yonder bower, where I may bathe your wounds and put you at ease.”
She led him out of the parlor and into the hall. Sean watched, amazed, as he
walked beside her. Without breaking stride, Diana somehow managed to remove her gown.
A loosening of a belt, a quick rip of a seam, and rags and tatters floated to the
floor. Within moments, the priestess of the Wanton was strutting next to him, clad
only in a pair of heeled sandals.
Taking Sean by the hand, she led him to her private rooms. Early in her marriage
to Paul, she had realized the time would come when she would need her own place.
The Wanton was strong within her, and her wisdom foretold that one day she would
take a lover other than her husband, and that their bedchamber would be a poor place
to consummate a relationship.
Indeed, this chamber was very much like her rooms in the temple of the Wanton.
The bed was different, but no less magnificent, and she had managed to convince the
temple to sell her many of her favorite tapestries.
“Lie down, brave captain, while I tend you,” she said.