Tag: series Page 3 of 15

Tasty Taster: A Kink A Day Book One

On November 17, 2023

The time for some erotic reading indulgence has arrived.

This week, I’m easing you into the weekend with an extract from my sexy anthology,

Blurb:

From the spank of a belt, to the unorthodox use of a dictionary; the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, to the afterhours indulgences of the staff recreating life in a strictly-run Victorian manor, A Kink a Day Book One provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.

***

Extract from Through the Gap

I caught my breath as Sally ran through the master bedroom’s door and, without taking time to explain, bundled me away from making the bed, into the dressing room cupboard and slammed the door. I stumbled back amongst the hat boxes and glove racks that filled the small, musty space. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed an eye up to the crack between the ill-fitting double doors, just in time to see both the housekeeper and the Master of the house follow Sally into the room.

There had been rumours, of course. The other members of staff frequently whispered amongst themselves of debauchery and submission, without realising they were being overheard. Six months of working in this house, of being neither seen nor heard as I discharged my duties, had made me an expert at overhearing things, and yet I had discovered nothing concrete to substantiate such gossip.
I suppose I have a rather strange job; it’s a bit like being an actor and a bit like being a domestic, but mostly I’m part of a complex tourist attraction. Each day, my colleagues and I dress in Victorian costume and work our way around a period manor house.

As a chamber maid, my place is in the bedrooms. I dart between all 25 chambers, making and unmaking beds which are never slept in, stoking naked fireplaces, dusting, sweeping and generally doing all those domestic chores associated with Victorian maids. I’m allowed to answer questions from the tourists, but otherwise I have to keep myself to myself, lower my eyes when my betters pass by, and try and remain invisible in their presence. I had dismissed the rumours of sexual deviancy as the product of boredom from some of our senior staff members’ lurid imaginations; fantasies concocted to liven up a slow tourism day. Until now.

Mrs Lawson grabbed Sally’s wrist and pulled her towards the Master. His face was solemn, and a stern furrow appeared on his brow as he peered into the eyes of the scullery maid. ‘Mrs Lawson informs me that you’ve been found wandering about above stairs again, young lady. That is not your place, is it?’
‘No, sir.’ Sally’s voice had taken on a meekness that was so convincing I wondered if it was genuine. I tried to quieten my breathing so I could hear what they were saying.

‘You know the punishment, don’t you?’

Sally nodded at the Master again and I watched as, on a signal from Mrs Lawson, Sally undid her apron and took off her cap and shoes. The housekeeper then leant forward and yanked off my colleague’s black working dress, so that she stood shivering in some far-from-Victorian underwear.

Mrs Lawson’s eyebrows rose. ‘And what exactly are those, young lady?’ her voice was harsh, but the high points of colour that had appeared on her face showed how much she was enjoying the situation as she observed Sally in her black stockings, matching bra and knickers.

Sally said nothing, but hung her head in humble submission, as the Master of the house placed a large hand on the back of her neck, gripping it firmly.
‘You have the collar, Mrs Lawson?’

‘Indeed, sir,’ the housekeeper produced a short black leather collar from her capacious apron pocket, and swiftly secured it around the maid’s pale neck. Then, rummaging further, she pulled out a thin lead and clipped it to the small silver loop that was positioned at the front of the collar.

My throat felt as if it had dried closed; I could hardly swallow as I watched, afraid of being discovered, but at the same time wishing the gap I was peering through was bigger, so I could see more.

I was unable to hear what the Master was saying now; he’d lowered his voice, almost to a whisper as he pulled on the lead which hung between her breasts. Then, in one swift, brutal movement, he grabbed the front of her bra and pulled it off, snapping the strap beyond repair. Her tits spilled out, revealing themselves to be even bigger than they’d first appeared. I moistened my lips. I could almost taste them and, enviously, I watched as the Master, yanking on the lead, bought Sally closer to him, before bowing down and engulfing a hard, nut brown nipple between his lips.

Sally had been a friend ever since I’d joined the house’s workforce, and unbeknownst to her, I’d had a massive crush on her from the first time I’d admired her in her pristine white apron and mop cap. To see her receive another’s erotic attentions was agony to my jealous body. I pressed my eye harder to the crack and strained my ears so I could hear the muted mewls my eyes told me were emanating from her lipstick-free mouth.

Mrs Lawson, who’d been watching the scene before her with obvious satisfaction, stepped forward and, once she had received approval from her superior, bent to Sally’s other breast. I could imagine so well how wonderful that would feel, the tingling attention, the sharp tang of want that each nip, each kiss, would send hurtling between her legs as both tits were stimulated at once.

I was aware of my own growing arousal. It had been simmering at the back of my mind ever since Sally had thrown me into the cupboard. Now it was controlling me, and I couldn’t help wondering if my friend had engineered things so I could observe her. A second’s panic shot through me, and I pulled away from the door. What if Sally told them I was here? What would they do to me if they found me? Then I sort of hoped they would find me. My breasts chaffed against my bra and stiffly starched uniform, as I wondered how I’d cope in Sally’s position.

My fantasy was cut short by a sharp scream, and I was drawn back to the real life drama in the adjoining room. The maid’s knickers had, in my few second’s lapse of concentration, been removed, and she was now on all fours. Mrs Lawson held a short white cane, which she had presumably kept in her apron pocket, and was rhythmically tanning Sally’s backside as the Master pulled the lead, making the girl walk after him like an obedient bitch on heat.

I was able to view them from every angle, as they moved in circles around the room, Sally yelping as the cane struck her neat backside. Our Master’s eyes blazed, his dick bulging beneath his suit trousers, while the housekeeper revelled in her administration of pain.

Without registering what I was doing, I slipped off my apron and slid a hand into my knickers as I watched. My juices stuck to my fingertips as I imagined Sally’s liquid dripping from her damp pussy. For despite her calls of anguish, the maid’s face glowed with desire, and there was no doubt in my mind that this scenario had been played out, and enjoyed, many times before….

If you want to find out what happened next you can buy A Kink a Day One from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

***

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Tiny Taster: Knowing Her Place

By Kay Jaybee

On June 22, 2023

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, The Perfect Submissive Trilogy

This week, I’m sharing a ‘Tiny Taster’ from the third novel in my ‘The Perfect Submissive’ #trilogy – Knowing Her Place.

Blurb:

Full of unanswered questions after her erotic fairytale experience at The Retreat in Scotland, Jess Sanders is desperate to return to her submissive position at the exclusive Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire.

Having been thwarted in his plans to keep Jess, The Retreat’s owner, David Proctor, isn’t willing to let her go without sending the so-called ‘perfect’ submissive on one final mission. Only if Jess succeeds in the task he sets her, will Proctor remove the collar of servitude he has locked around her neck.

With a list of five unfamiliar addresses to hand, Jess is placed in a car and driven away from The Retreat towards England. With no idea of what, or who, awaits her at each location, all Jess can hope for is that the journey will eventually take her back to where she belongs.

To the fifth floor of the Fables Hotel, where Miss Jess Sanders truly knows her place.

***

Here’s a tiny taster from the very beginning of Chapter 1…

Miss Jess Sanders fingered the cream envelope she clutched between her fingers. The paper was damp, its previously crisp edges tattered and limp from where she’d been gripping it so tightly.

Her right hand came to her throat. Gingerly, Jess fingered the black leather collar that spanned her neck.

Every part of her ached.

Sitting in the rear of a very comfortable, chauffeur-driven BMW, Jess couldn’t even face glancing out of the window. The journey from the North East of Scotland to wherever it was she was being taken in England seemed to be taking forever.

Only a few hours earlier, Jess had been working at The Retreat, providing submissive services at a business launch party, where 150 delegates from the Fairtasia adult comic production company had explored every inch of her body. Reclining against the leather seat, she closed her eyes. She could still feel the imprint of each hand, tongue, breast and cock that had come her way. Her stomach churned with nerves, anger, fatigue, and her body’s treacherous and constant need for more sex.

Seven months ago, Jess had no idea she was a born submissive.

Six months ago, after becoming bored with a succession of temping jobs, she’d applied for the position of booking clerk at the Fables Hotel in Oxford, landed the post, and her life had changed beyond all recognition. From being a single girl, with a lacklustre sex life and no partner, Jess had become the resident submissive on Fables’ fifth floor. A place which, under the iron management of the very dominant Mrs Peters, provided a special service for adults who wished for their ultimate sexual fantasies to come true without fear of judgement, and in perfect safety.

Initially Jess had been horrified at how well, and how quickly, she’d adapted to this new subservient lifestyle. A lifestyle Mrs Peters had spotted she was suited to long before Jess herself had any idea. But just as she’d settled into her new life and work regime at the hotel, Jess had found herself uprooted.

One of Fables’ most demanding clients, Mr David Proctor, had persuaded Mrs Peters to lend him Jess, along with her dominatrix Miss Sarah, to help him and his manageress, Dr Ewen, set up his own Fables-style establishment in a remote part of Scotland – The Retreat.

Jess and Miss Sarah had been told they were being lent to Proctor to teach his staff the art of submissive behaviour. The reality of the situation, however, hadn’t been quite so straightforward…

Knowing Her Place follows on from The Fifth Floor and The Retreat.

Available from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Smashwords

Happy reading,

Kay x

Tiny Taster: The Retreat

By Kay Jaybee

On June 16, 2023

In BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News, something for the weekend, The Perfect Submissive Trilogy

This weekend I thought I’d tempt you to a ‘Tiny Taster’ from The Retreat – the middle novel in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy.

Continuing the story of Miss Jess Sanders journey through the world of the professional submissive, The Retreat takes her away from the life she has only just been getting used to…

Blurb-

Just as Jess is beginning to relax into her new life as a submissive at The Fables Hotel, her employer Mrs Peters announces that she is loaning both Jess, and her dominatrix Miss Sarah, to one of their most demanding clients; Mr David Proctor.

Whisked away by the mysterious Kane to The Retreat, hidden in a remote part of Scotland, Jess and Miss Sarah find themselves teaching another submissive to meet Proctor’s exacting rules.

As Jess comes to terms with the techniques of The Retreat Mistress, and the strictly overpowering dominatrix Lady Tia, she discovers that Proctor’s motives may not be all they seem.

Just who or what is Fairtasia? And why does Jess feel like she’s walked into a warped fairy tale?

In order to get back to The Fables, Jess is going to have to be more than just a perfect submissive…

Here’s a tiny taster from the beginning of The Retreat to whet your appetite…

…With his ego growing almost as much as his cock, as it pushed against the inside of his suit trousers, David crouched down beside the girl. Her bare buttocks bore the pleasing marks of his palm. The fading prints were pink now, but they’d blazed red only moments ago, as he’d held her across his lap, spanking her backside again and again in punishment for her repeated disobedience.

Her breasts, the perfect handful, were dotted with freckles, and as his mind considered all the things a willing slave could do for him, and he could do to her, he lifted her lowered head by the chin.

‘But you refuse to climax when I tell you to.’ David’s voice wasn’t angry, but it was hard. He was, and would always be the unyielding business man. If there was nothing in any arrangement for him, it wouldn’t happen.

‘I want to though Sir. I really want to, I just…I wait so long for permission, and then, I just can’t. I am so sorry, I…’

‘SShhhh.’ David stroked his hand through the wisps of her hair that had escaped her hooked up ponytail. She intrigued him.

The Retreat did need a new submissive, and quickly if his business plans were to expand in the direction he intended them to. The man Fairtasia was sending to represent them was due any day now, and not long after that their delegates would arrive.

‘Please Sir?’ Her blue eyes seemed impossibly wide as stayed still, her bare legs against the cold stone kitchen floor proving how good her stamina was, ‘Lady Tia could teach me.’

‘Training.’ David spoke the word slowly as if to himself, mulling each letter over in thought, but the young cook leapt upon the word.

‘Yes Sir! Dr Ewen says Lady Tia is the best dominatrix in her field.’

‘Umm. She is indeed, but…’ The Retreats new owner reached his uncallused hands to her tits, and felt a surge of satisfaction as the nipples pressed back persuasively against his skin, ‘I’m not sure Lady Tia’s field of expertise will be sufficient in this case. Spankings and beatings you can obviously already take.’

The girl lowered her face again. There was no doubt she was submissive material- and yet not quite. Her deference to him however, and his urgent need for a female submissive on his staff made David’s mind up for him.

‘I think it’s time I contacted a friend in England. I’m sure she’ll send us the help we need.’ Manipulating the cooks chest with greater pressure, enjoying pushing a gasp of pain tinged pleasure come from her lips, David’s round face gave a calculating smile…

If you’d like to read The Retreat, you can find it in e-format at all good retailers, including-

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Tasty Taster: The Fifth Floor

By Kay Jaybee

On June 9, 2023

In BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News, The Perfect Submissive Trilogy

This weekend, let’s go to the The Fifth Floor (The Perfect Submissive #trilogy- Book One) and meet Miss Jess Sanders as she starts her adventure into the (so far unknown) world of the BDSM submissive…

Blurb

Hidden behind the respectable façade of the Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire, five specially adapted rooms await visitors to the fifth floor. Here, Mrs Peters is mistress of an adult entertainment facility pandering to the kinky requirements of its guests. When she meets Jess Sanders, she recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will take is a little education.

Under the tutelage of dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with an erotically demanding training schedule and a truly sexy exercise regime. But will she come to terms with her new career?

Meanwhile, Mrs Peters is temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fables’ fifth floor by artist, Sam Wheeler – who she believes can help her in her mission to transform Jess into the perfect submissive…

Here’s a tasty taster…

…Jess was sat at her desk, a half eaten sandwich in one hand; the fingers of her other hand dancing over the computer keyboard. Laura watched her through the office window for a few moments before confidently stepping into the room, interrupting the clerk without hesitation. ‘Mr Davies informs me he has not yet had time to complete your preliminary tour of the hotel.’

Understanding precisely where the manageress intended to take her, Jess spoke carefully, ‘I’ve seen most of it, but not all.’

Without confirming the clerk’s suspicions, Laura said, ‘I have a few moments, so if you’d like to walk this way I’ll complete that area of your training.’ She pointed towards the office door, ‘You are bound to be asked for directions around the place by our guests and it doesn’t look very professional if a member of staff gets lost herself, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I would, Mrs Peters.’

Although she’d now worked at the Fables for just over a week, Jess still hadn’t looked her boss in the eye once, a fact that sent a buzz of conviction through Mrs Peters; her initial instincts about the girl had been correct.

‘Are you happy here so far, Miss Sanders?’

‘Yes, Mrs Peters. Thank you.’ Jess muttered her response, almost managing to glance directly at her superior, but falling short at her shoulders. Laura’s heartbeat increased in response to the girl’s natural deference. Jess Sanders was just so perfect for what she had in mind.

As they walked towards the staff lift Laura attempted to improve the flow of conversation, ‘And I don’t think you have yet been introduced to all the other members of staff?’

‘Not yet, no.’ Again Jess spoke cautiously, and Laura knew from the expression on her face that she was both fearful and curious about meeting anyone who kept their business arrangements entirely to the Fables upper storey.

‘We are one member of staff down at the moment; one of my assistants has left us for pastures new. I’m searching for a replacement. Master Lee Philips, who works in the bar downstairs, helps me out as and when required, but it’s not an ideal arrangement. He has many other duties, and besides, the fifth floor guests frequently prefer the female touch.’

Following the clerk into the lift it was obvious that no small talk was going to come from her, so Laura calmly kept up her commentary. ‘My associate, Miss Sarah, should be on the premises by 10.00 each morning, unless she has had a complete night session, in which case she is not expected until 2.00 p.m. As I’ve said, Master Philips comes and goes, depending on our requirements and his bar and reception work. Miss Sarah has her first session of the day in a few moments, if we are lucky we should just catch the show.’

Visibly shrinking back, Jess noticed how Mrs Peters walked a little taller now they’d reached her domain. Her face was more set, her back straighter, and somehow she appeared even more intimidating than before. Pushing her hands into the deep pockets of her clinging knee-length black skirt, Jess hid the growing sheen of perspiration on her palms, while trying to ignore the fearful beat of her pulse.

Crossing the threshold of the room, into which she was being firmly steered by the elbow, felt like entering another world to Jess, or rather, another time. Manoeuvred towards a plush red velvet chaise longue, her eyes darting here and there, the clerk was pointedly sat down.

Trying to ignore the light but persistent pressure of Mrs Peters cool hand against her wrist, Jess took in the reproduction William Morris wallpaper, the heavy dark-wood chest of drawers, the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the faded brown leather wing-backed armchair. Centre stage, only a few metres from where they sat, was a huge writing desk. Its top was inlaid with a square of leather, a portion of which was covered with blotting paper, an accompanying ink well, pots of ink, and nibbed pens.

Jess was reminded of a museum she’d once visited as a child, where rooms from a variety of different houses had been re-created from a number of historical periods. This room had Victorian study written all over it.

The silence was beginning to get to her as she waited, perched rather than sat, on the unyielding seat. A faint voice of hope at the back of her head kept telling her that all this had to be some sort of practical joke, but one glance at Mrs Peters made Jess reconsider. Her eyes kept drifting towards the study door. Whatever she had been brought here to witness surely couldn’t begin until someone came in. Twenty seconds later, each one ticked off by the hammer of Jess’s heart beating, the door swung back with a confident push.

‘Ah, Miss Sarah,’ Laura rose from her seat, a stern glare at Jess telling her not to move. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Fables has a new member of staff, and I thought it would be a good idea to let her observe one of our sessions.’

Miss Sarah, her face powdered to an ultra-pale complexion, her curling hair pinned up in the style of a Victorian lady, her exquisite outfit historically accurate down to the small white buttons that fastened her stylish black boots, curtsied at once to her superior, ‘Of course, Mrs Peters.’

The stunningly slim woman glanced briefly at Jess, her grey gaze only lingering long enough to acknowledge the stranger, without taking in what she looked like or who she might be. Miss Sarah’s indifference, dismissing the office clerk as an unimportant factor in the room, made Jess feel smaller and more anxious than ever.

The agonising lull continued and Jess’s imagination began to run riot as Miss Sarah sat at the desk in preparation for her client’s arrival. Images of pock-skinned overweight men, panting loudly as they fucked the employees of the fifth floor against the furniture made Jess’s stomach churn, but there was no way out. With a quiet determination that Mrs Peters would have been surprised to know Jess possessed, she thought, if the other members of staff here have survived this part of the tour, then so can I.

As Mrs Peters returned to both the chaise lounge and her application of gentle restraint against the clerk’s arm, Jess’s body stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door. Not daring to face her employer, Jess focused on the figure that, after being granted permission to enter, walked meekly into the study.

If he hadn’t had his neck bent, his face to the floor with respect for Miss Sarah, who greeted him with a sharp ‘Good Morning’, Jess judged he would have been quite tall. And he was young; not the sweaty, aged bank manager Jess had conjured up in her head, but a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with a shaven face, short spiked ginger hair, and well built limbs. He was dressed as a servant, perhaps a stable hand. Jess was automatically reminded of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Gulping against her dehydrated throat, unwilling to see the sex that she was sure was about to follow, the clerk dropped her eyes, only to have her chin roughly jerked upwards by Mrs Peters, ‘No, child. You will observe. You will learn.’

A patina of panic gripped Jess. Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. Until that moment it had been unreal. She hadn’t let go of the hope that at any minute someone was going to turn around and say, ‘OK, Jess, it’s just a joke. We play it on all the new girls. Let’s grab a coffee.’ No one did though. No one was saying anything…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
Apple Books UK
Apple Books US
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xxxx

Blog Tour: The Shining Citadel by A. L. Butcher

By Kay Jaybee

On May 25, 2023

In fantasy

Today, I’m welcoming A.L. Butcher to my site, to share a little about the second novel in her #fantasy #series – and she’s letting the characters do the talking…

Guest Post – Meet my Characters – M’alia and Hendrick

@Libraryoferana #Fantasyauthor #darkfantasy #Fantasy #Meetanauthor

Characters:

M’alia Er’lis – elven sorceress of Ilthendra

Commander Hendrick – Order of Witch-Hunters

From The Shining Citadel – the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles Book II.

Q1. Why are you on this adventure?

M’alia: We left Ilthendra, in the Shimmering Forest to find the heir to the House of Light; the Ring of Light had finally been returned to the heir and the Mirror of Watching sang. We could not believe the prophecy had come to be. This was the one to lead us out of oppression and slavery – the heir would return the elves to their rightful glory.

It was supposed to be an honour. Our grandfather was the last Eltenda – that’s librarian – to the Shining Citadel of Lor Ar’thinis. The City of Light has been lost for centuries – but magic is complex, it is mysterious and it has its own path and way. Just perhaps the Shining Citadel could be returned to us, perhaps the Lady of the Light could bring us freedom.

We are elves – we are no better than slaves and we have no rights, our history is nothing, our culture is in ruins. We bring the Plague and the magic that corrupts goodly folk. At least that is the official line, and many humans believe that.

The elves of Ilthendra believed we were remote from the watching eyes of the humans, we were safe. Complacency kills. Ignorance kills. But hope, now hope keeps you alive. It’s all I have now. It’s all any elf has.

From the group who left Ilthendra only myself and my sister remain. Our companions were tortured and executed. I will never forget their screams. I am a prisoner in this fort, and my twin, Th’alia, has been sent with the Witch-Hunters to trap the heir and deliver the whereabouts of the Citadel to the Order of Witch-Hunters.

I fear for my sister’s safety, she is not strong and I do not know if either of us will survive this. We have bought the lives of our Kin with the knowledge we hold.

Hendrick: This adventure as you call it is my duty! I am a Commander in the Order of Witch-hunters and my word is law in this land. These elves dare to think they have rights, they wish to seek this magic town and regain their riches and their filthy magic. Elves are nothing more than slaves and magic must be eradicated! This city and its wealth will fill my coffers, um the Order’s coffers. That elven witch is mistaken – the elves have no hope.

Then, of course, there is the small matter of the defeat of the Archmage Lord Archos of Tremellic. He is the lover of this elven sorceress they seek. His demise will ensure my promotion. That bastard has been trouble to the Order for years; yet he wields power and influence, one cannot simply walk into his domain and arrest such a man on rumours. For a man of his rank to be wrong would be disastrous. That man is clever and rich, he pays bribes and sweeteners; no one dares touch him. I know my duty – he does not frighten me like he frightens the rank and file. He is just a man and men can be killed. He’s a filthy mage and all mages will fall to my banesword.

Q2. Who is your nemesis? Why is this?

M’alia: I am a forest elf, therefore in the eyes of the Order I am a slave. I am a mage – my existence is forbidden. Here and now, I am a pawn. The Order of Witch-Hunters is my nemesis….

Hendrick: Mages. Everyone knows magic brings the Plague. The elves almost brought mankind down, with war, disease and magic. The price they paid was high but well-deserved. Humans are the rulers now – and magic will be tamed.

M’alia: Magic will never be tamed; you’re like the others – you do not understand. Magic is everywhere, it is wild and will not be enslaved. The Order has ruled for centuries but still magic finds a way. Still there are those born in magic, those who practice in secret. It’s true that it’s not a prevalent as in the times before the Plague, but magic will never fail, not entirely.

Q3. At your final showdown what are your plans (promise we won’t tell).

M’alia: if by some blessings of the gods I still draw breath I will fry that evil bastard. I will not forget my treatment, what I have been forced to do, or the death of Elfkind at his hands. I will not go quietly. If I must burn this place and all in it I shall.

Hendrick: Pah! You think I fear an elven mage half my age? I have killed far greater than you, witch. Soon you will cease to be of use or entertainment to me. And then your death will be a mercy to you.

As for that bloody Magelord Archos of Tremellic, I look forward to the day I can sink my Baneblade in his vile hide and tear the magic from his flesh with the Banewhip. Oh I shall enjoy watching him bleed, and cry for mercy as they always do at the end.

There is no mercy – there is the law and there is the Order. Magic is forbidden and those who flaunt it will die, such is the law of the land.

Q4. Define a hero:

M’alia: A hero is one who will put themselves before others, no matter the cost. One who will do what others will not, dare not. A hero will free others even if that freedom costs him or her all.

Hendrick: A hero is a man who sticks to his duty, who will sacrifice popularity for doing what he thinks is right. Reluctantly, I agree with the Witch – a hero is one who will do what others will not.

Witch-Hunters are not popular, those who rule by arms rarely are. We protect the greater populace from the perfidy of magic, from the risk of the Plague, and from themselves. Freedom is not a commodity peasants and elves can be trusted with. The Order brings peace – there have been border wars, and occasional rebellions but the Great Wars of Old are a mere history lesson. A hero brings peace whether it is wanted or not.

M’alia: It is not peace, it is tyranny. What value is peace if it beneath an iron fist? What value has peace to the slave?

Q5. Define a villain:

M’alia: *Looks at Hendrick. A villain is someone who uses others for his own ends, who takes away the rights of another, and who causes harm simply because he can. Someone who is wicked but doesn’t see it is so.

Hendrick: A villain is one who defies the law, who harms innocents and threatens the peace. One who is wicked and yet still continues to flout what is right.

Q6. What are your feelings about the other person?

M’alia: You need to ask me that? How do you think I feel about him?

Hendrick: I do not care what witches think of me. I am their scourge. Do I care for this elf? Don’t be ridiculous, I care no more for this one than any other piece of property. She serves to satisfy my lust and is a means to get to the Archmage and his friends. She has knowledge that I require – beyond that she is nothing. If I want a woman, I can take one – I have no time or inclination for the burdens of marriage. One elf is much the same as another.

Q7. Where will you be 10 years from now?

M’alia: Most likely dead. If I am not perhaps at home in Ilthendra, with my sister and my friends.

Hendrick: I will be promoted to High-Commander, I will have power, wealth and glory for serving my land.

Q8. do you have anything you’d like to say to your nemesis, that you may not get the chance to say when you meet?

M’alia: My nemesis is all Witch-Hunters. I will say this: Elves are not property, magic is not a creature to be tamed. Both are free, both exist despite the Order. The more magic is subjugated the wilder and craftier it will become. Magic is, has been and always shall be. The elves were once great and can be again. Freedom is relative.

Hendrick: When I meet the Archmage I will ensure he knows the might of the Order and the right of the Order.

Q9. Why should people believe YOU are right?

M’alia: Why am I right? I did not claim to be right, I simply say elves and mages are not ‘wrong’ simply for who and what they are.

Hendrick: The Order of Witch-Hunters uphold the law, the peace and the safety of the people. It is our right to remove those deemed a threat. Elves brought the Plague which almost destroyed the human kingdom, and still they bring their nefarious ways. Magic is dangerous! It’s perfidy creeps in good people and turns them bad.

M’alia: That’s a lie! Magic is like any other skill or weapon – if the user is bad then it will be used for evil. Magic heals, it sees what others cannot, it brings learning and joy. If it is hidden, and it’s practitioners have to live as outlaws it’s no surprise they must commit a crime. One whose very existence is forbidden has no recourse to law to protect them.

Hendrick: The law is right, it cannot be otherwise.

***

Excerpt from The Shining Citadel:

Commander Hendrick of the Order of Witch-Hunters was alone, having dismissed his companions save for the unfortunate victims of his wrath and his greed. A blonde-haired elf knelt at his feet and the mage, her twin, hung in chains at the wall whimpering in pain. Blood stained the stone floor crimson from the whip coiled loosely at his side.

“So, scholar, you will lead us to that Citadel of which your late companions were so keen to tell. All the lost riches of the Elfkind,” he said. Gripping her hair, he pulled the elf close, his mouth to her ear. “A pretty thing, are you not? Both you and your sister. Now if you are a good girl, she might get to keep those looks. The Baneshackle scars will not be so bad. She might yet live to see the sun rise over your Shimmering Forest.”

Dragging the elven woman roughly so she could see her weeping and bloody twin, the Witch-Hunter continued in a voice which made her blood run cold, “See what you have consented to? That she lives. It is simple enough, elf.”

Th’alia fought back her tears, shame and degradation pricking her eyes and burning within her far stronger than her own physical pain, yet she summoned the courage and the pride to whisper, “I have a name, my sister has a name. My name is Th’alia Er’lis. We are not property. I will seek the Citadel, but for her, not for you, Witch-Hunter.”

Hendrick scrutinised the elf woman and, releasing her hair, laughed at her audacity. “Is that what you believe? She is a mage, an elf witch, and thus she belongs to us, to me. However, I may be persuaded to look the other way. Lead the Magelord Archos of Tremellic and that slut who shares his bed to this Citadel, allow them to perform the ritual needed to enter, and I may ignore the fact of your sister’s existence.”

Motioning towards M’alia he removed the whip from his belt, letting the weight of it lie in his hands as though emphasising the point, for she had felt the bite of it and both elves knew he would not hesitate to use it once more.

“I will arrange escort and the required paperwork, for you cannot wander the human lands alone. Mark this however, you will be watched. If any harm befalls your escort, if you escape from him, if you fail or deceive him, the woman who hangs in chains yonder will die. Then I will inform the slavers of what stock resides in your settlement, for if they produce more as pretty as you, the slavers will indeed pay handsomely for the information. One way or the other, I will get my gold. Surely it is an easy enough choice, the lives of strangers for those of your sister and your town.”

He looked into her eyes and saw compliance if not consent, a realisation that choice was not a luxury she could afford. Th’alia nodded slowly, and with an unpleasant grin and the thought of elven treasure shining in his eyes, Hendrick said, “Good girl. Your sister will not be harmed or molested. She will be safe. You have my word on that.”

Th’alia turned her tear-filled brown eyes to his face and replied quietly, “What is the word of a Witch-Hunter to me?”

Hendrick looked over to the chained mage. Running the whip through his fingers once more, he replied, “It is the word of a man who has the power of life and death. Heed it well.”

With that, Hendrick unchained the mage, and instead of letting her fall, he wrapped his cloak about her and gave orders she was to be healed and removed from the cell. Casting one final glance at Th’alia, he exited, locking the door until his plans were in place.

Blurb and buy links:

The Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles – Book I

In a dark world where magic is illegal, and elves are enslaved a young elven sorceress runs for her life from the house of her evil Keeper. Pursued by his men and the corrupt Order of Witch-Hunters she must find sanctuary. As the slavers roll across the lands stealing elves from what remains of their ancestral home the Witch-Hunters turn a blind eye to the tragedy and a story of power, love and a terrible revenge unfolds.

*18 rated for adult scenes and violence.

Available as ebook, paperback, hardcover, large print and audiobook.

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/Lightbeyondstorm1

The Shining Citadel – The Light Beyond the Storm – Book II

Who rules in this game of intrigue where magic is forbidden, and elves enslaved? Journey where beliefs shatter like glass, truth is unwelcome, and monsters from ancient times abound: share the romance and revenge, magic and passion, and the wages of greed in a world of darkest fantasy.

*18 rated for adult scenes and violence.

Available as ebook, paperback, hardcover, large print and audiobook.

https://www.books2read.com/ShiningCitadel

The Stolen Tower – The Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles – Book III

What stalks the land cannot be but is.

Where magic is outlawed a troll Shaman calls from her deathbed to her heiress, Mirandra Var, daughter of the storm. Mirandra vows to find her missing kin, sort friend from foe, and claim the dangerous secrets guarded by unthinkable creatures. If she succeeds, she will become the leader of her tribe. If she fails, there will be no tribe to lead.

*18 rated for adult scenes and violence.

Available as ebook, paperback, hardcover, large print and audiobook.

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/StolenTower

Author Bio and Links

British-born A. L. Butcher is an avid reader and creator of worlds, a poet, and a dreamer, a lover of science, natural history, history, and monkeys. Her prose has been described as ‘dark and gritty’ and her poetry as ‘evocative’. She writes with a sure and sometimes erotic sensibility of things that might have been, never were, but could be.

Alex is the author of the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles and the Tales of Erana lyrical fantasy series. She also has several short stories in the fantasy, fantasy romance genres with occasional forays into gothic style horror, including the Legacy of the Mask series. With a background in politics, classical studies, ancient history and myth, her affinities bring an eclectic and unique flavour in her work, mixing reality and dream in alchemical proportions that bring her characters and worlds to life.

Alex is also proud to be a writer for Perseid Press where her work features in Heroika: Dragon Eaters, Heroika Skirmishers – where she was editor and cover designer as well as writer – as well as Lovers in Hell and Mystics in Hell – part of the acclaimed Heroes in Hell series. http://www.theperseidpress.com/

Awards:

Outside the Walls, co-written with Diana L. Wicker received a Chill with a Book Reader’s Award in 2017.

NN Light Book Heaven awards:

The Kitchen Imps and Other Dark Tales won the best fantasy for 2018

Echoes of a Song – one of her Phantom tales – won the best fantasy in 2019

Tears and Crimson Velvet won the best Short Story category in 2020

Dark Tales and Twisted Verses – won the best Short Story Category in 2021

Blog https://libraryoferana.wordpress.com/about-a-l-butcher-fantasy-author-poet-author-promotion/

Facebook Author Page https://www.facebook.com/LightBeyondtheStorm/

Twitter https://twitter.com/libraryoferana/

Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/2hK33OM

BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/a-l-butcher