Amazons…Early Feminists #BookFreebie
I’ve always been fascinated by stories about Amazons. What’s cooler than a group of kick-ass warrior women? These gals were so formidable some scholars with fragile egos tried to mansplain them out of existence, insisting they were only a myth, but archeological evidence proves otherwise. These fabulous warrior women rode horses like champs, were excellent archers, and while some of them might have preferred women, they weren’t man-hating lesbians. They were independent females, and the Greeks were so intimidated, they spread ridiculous rumors about them even creating a moniker that suggested they cut off their breasts. The women those legends were based on deserve better.
Years ago when one of the publishers I wrote for asked for capture-romance stories for an anthology, I didn’t want to write the typical yarn of a powerful, alpha male snatching a young woman to claim. However, the idea of the strong, sexy alpha-male being taken intrigued me. I thought about what type of women would snare a man, and Scythian Horsewomen (the real “Amazons”) were an obvious choice. I wrote Fevered Dream with those women in mind. Like their legendary counterparts, my warrior women smoke weed, drink fermented beverages, and enjoy sex, and they aren’t afraid to fight men when necessary.
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Satisfied but unenthusiastic with his role as a wealthy villa owner, D’Jwan embarks on a journey to the temple of his grandmother’s goddess. He performs a ritual to enter the dreamscape, hoping for a glimpse of destiny, but what he finds is far more exciting and dangerous.
Commander Xia and her warriors–fierce, hard-riding horsewomen of the Steppe–are in need of release and distraction when they happen upon a sexy man in a vulnerable position, and they want far more from him than his earthly goods. Forget lovely slave girls captured by the Roman Infantry or the village ingénue carried away by the barbarian hordes. Saddle up for the story of real Amazons unafraid of taking the pleasure they desire and deserve.
Warning: Fevered Dream is intended for adults only. The story contains graphic, descriptive, sexual language. If you are offended by erotic content, you might want to find another book.
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“Congratulations, you have passed the first obstacle in your quest, moving from your realm to ours. Are you ready for the next?”
Sitting on his knees, D’Jwan bowed low, his face inches from the carpet before he lifted his head and spoke. “I am ready. What is required of me?”
The women stood and moved to surround him in a semi-circle formation, their faces seemingly glowing from above as they peered down at him. Kepes leaned in, her ripe, tempting lips inches from his face.
“You must use all your skills, pleasing us while remaining potent enough to face the rest of your journey.”
His jaw dropped as he sat stunned. Had he heard correctly? Had three handmaidens to a goddess just demanded carnal knowledge of him? Could he do such a thing? Pleasing three women at once wouldn’t be easy. Was he up to the challenge? Insecurity sent a chill down his spine. What will happen to me if I’m not? If I fail, I might be trapped here in this dream state forever… I can’t. I won’t. Failure would disgrace my dear grandmother in the eyes of her goddess.
His brow furrowed with determination. Even if holding back killed him, he would complete this trial with finesse while saving his best for the goddess herself!
There was no time to hesitate! Reaching upward, he unknotted the scarf tied just above Kepes’s hips, snatching the light-weight fabric off with one hand while reaching around her waist with the other. He stretched his neck, connecting his lips to hers as he yanked her forward. Grabbing her, he turned quickly to glide her down to the large cushion nearby. Scarce light and possibly the combination of strong incense and potent drink left his eyesight fuzzy. Everything in this realm appeared as the memory of a dream but the sugary taste of the woman’s lips was certainly real enough. D’Jwan pressed his mouth against hers, hungrily pushing his tongue between the small opening. Like a jackrabbit ready to run, her tongue darted forward to meet his. Aggressively, she returned the kiss as if she intended to eat him alive. She tasted of honey but he could tell she was no sweet, virginal maiden.
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