✴🔹✴Liberty by Kim Iverson Headlee ✴🔹✴

liberty

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Liberty, second edition

AUTHOR – Kim Iverson Headlee

GENRE – Historical Romance (ancient Rome)

PUBLICATION DATE – Dec. 2014

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 462 pages/118K words

PUBLISHER – Pendragon Cove Press

COVER ARTIST – Natasha Brown

BOOK INFOhttp://kimiversonheadlee.blogspot.com/p/liberty.html

 

BOOK SYNOPSIS

They hailed her “Liberty,” but she was free only to obey—or die.

Betrayed by her father and sold as payment of a Roman tax debt to fight in Londinium’s arena, gladiatrix-slave Rhyddes feels like a wild beast in a gilded cage. Celtic warrior blood flows in her veins, but Roman masters own her body. She clings to her vow that no man shall claim her soul, though Marcus Calpurnius Aquila, son of the Roman governor, makes her yearn for a love she believes impossible.

Groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps and trapped in a politically advantageous betrothal, Aquila prefers the purity of combat on the amphitheater sands to the sinister intrigues of imperial politics, and the raw power and athletic grace of the flame-haired Libertas to the adoring deference of Rome’s noblewomen.

When a plot to overthrow Caesar ensnares them as pawns in the dark design, Aquila must choose between the Celtic slave who has won his heart and the empire to which they both owe allegiance. Knowing the opposite of obedience is death, the only liberty offered to any slave, Rhyddes must embrace her arena name—and the love of a man willing to sacrifice everything to forge a future with her.

 

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Liberty - Book CoverEXCERPT

FINGERS CRAMPING AND shoulders aching from having wielded the pitchfork all day, Rhyddes ferch Rudd tossed another load of hay onto the wagon. Sweat trickled down her back, making the lash marks sting. Marks inflicted by her father, Rudd, the day before because eighteen summers of anguish had goaded her into speaking her mind.

Physical pain couldn’t compare with the ache wringing her heart.

She slid a glance toward the author of her mood. He stood a few paces away, leaning upon his pitchfork’s handle in the loaded wagon’s shade to escape the July heat as he conversed with her oldest brother, Eoghan. She couldn’t discern their words, but their camaraderie spoke volumes her envy didn’t want to hear.

Her father’s gaze met hers, and he lowered his eyebrows. “Back to work, Rhyddes!” On Rudd’s lips, her name sounded like an insult.

In a sense, it was.

Her name in the Celtic tongue meant “freedom,” but the horse hitched to the hay wagon enjoyed more freedom than she did. Her tribe, the Votadini, had been conquered by the thieving Romans, who demanded provisions for their troops, fodder for their mounts, women for their beds, and coin to fill the purses of every Roman who wasn’t a soldier.

If those conditions weren’t bad enough, for all the kindness her father had demonstrated during her first two decades, Rhyddes may as well have been born a slave.

She scooped up more hay. Resentment-fired anger sent wisps flying everywhere, much of it sailing over the wagon rather than landing upon it.

“Hey, mind what you’re doing!”

Owen, her closest brother in age and in spirit, emerged from the wagon’s far side, hay prickling his hair and tunic like a porcupine. Rhyddes couldn’t suppress her laugh. “’Tis an improvement. Just wait till the village lasses see you.”

“Village lasses, hah!” Sporting a wicked grin, Owen snatched up a golden fistful, flung it at her, and dived for her legs.

They landed in the fragrant hay and began vying for the upper hand, cackling like a pair of witless hens. When Owen thought he’d prevailed, Rhyddes twisted and rolled from underneath him. Her fresh welts stung, but she refused to let that deter her. He lost his balance and fell backward. She pounced, planting a knee on his chest and pinning his wrists to the ground over his head.

Victory’s sweetness lasted but a moment. Fingers dug into her shoulders, and she felt herself hauled to her feet and spun around. Owen’s face contorted to chagrin as he scrambled up.

“Didn’t get enough of the lash yestermorn, eh, girl?” Rudd, his broad hands clamped around her upper arms, gave her a teeth-rattling shake.

When she didn’t respond, he released her and rounded on Owen. “As for you—”

“Da, please, no!” Rhyddes stopped herself. Well she knew the futility of pleading with Rudd. Still, for Owen’s sake, she had to try. Her father’s scowl dared her to continue. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “’Twas not Owen’s fault. I—” Sweat freshened the sting on her back, and she winced. “The fault is naught but mine.”

“Aye, that I can well believe.” Rudd grasped each sibling by an arm and strode across the hayfield toward the family’s lodge. “Owen can watch you take his lashes as well as yours. We’ll see if that won’t mend his ways.” The thin linen of her ankle-length tunic failed to shield her from his fingers, which had to be leaving bruises. Rhyddes gritted her teeth. Rudd seemed disappointed. “I doubt anything in this world or the next will make you mend yours.”

“You don’t want me to change. You’d lose your excuse to beat me.” Sheer impertinence, she knew, but she no longer cared.

“I need no excuses, girl.”

The back of his hand collided with her cheek. Pain splintered into a thousand needles across her face. She reeled and dropped to her hands and knees, her hair obscuring her vision in a copper cascade. Hay pricked her palms. Owen would have helped her rise, but their father restrained him. Owen blistered the ground with his glare, not daring to direct it at Rudd for fear of earning the same punishment.

Not that Rhyddes could blame him.

Rudd yanked her up, cocked a fist… and froze. “Raiders!”

Rhyddes whirled about. Picts were charging from the north to converge upon their settlement, the battle cries growing louder under the merciless afternoon sun. One of the storage buildings had already been set ablaze, its roof thatch marring the sky with thick black smoke.

Rudd shed his shock and sprinted for the living compound, calling his children by name to help him defend their home: Eoghan, Ian, Bloeddwyn, Arden, Dinas, Gwydion, Owen.

Every child except Rhyddes.

She ran to the wagon, unhitched the horse, found her pitchfork, scrambled onto the animal’s back, and kicked him into a jolting canter. The stench of smoke strengthened with each stride. Her mount pinned back his ears and wrestled her for control of the bit, but she bent the frightened horse to her will. She understood how he felt.

As they loped past the cow byre, a Pict leaped at them, knocking Rhyddes from the horse’s back. The ground jarred the pitchfork from her grasp. The horse galloped toward the pastures as Rhyddes fumbled for her dagger. Although her brothers had taught her how to wield it in a fight, until now she’d used it only to ease dying animals from this world.

But the accursed blade wouldn’t come free of the hilt.

Sword aloft, the Pict closed on her.

Time distorted, assaulting Rhyddes with her attacker’s every detail: lime-spiked hair, weird blue symbols smothering the face and arms, long sharp sword, ebony leather boots and leggings, breastplate tooled to fit female curves . . .

Female?

The warrior-woman’s sword began its descent.

From the corner of her eye Rhyddes saw her pitchfork. Grunting, she rolled toward it, praying to avoid her attacker’s blow.

Her left arm stung where the sword grazed it, but she snagged her pitchfork and scrambled to her feet. Unexpected eagerness flooded her veins.

As the Pict freed her weapon from where it had embedded in the ground, Rhyddes aimed the pitchfork and lunged. The tines hooked the warrior-woman’s sword, and Rhyddes twisted with all her strength. The Pict yelped as the sword ripped from her hand to go flying over the sty’s fence. Squealing in alarm, the sow lumbered for cover, trying to wedge her bulk under the trough.

With a savage scream, the warrior-woman whipped out a dagger and charged. Rhyddes reversed the pitchfork and jammed its butt into the Pict’s gut, under the breastplate’s bottom edge, robbing her of breath. She reversed it again and caught the raider under the chin with the pitchfork’s tines. As the woman staggered backward, flailing her arms and flashing the red punctures that marred her white neck, Rhyddes struck hard and knocked her down.

The warrior-woman looked heavier by at least two stone, but Rhyddes pinned her chest with her knee. She dropped the pitchfork and grasped her dagger, yanking it free. Grabbing a fistful of limed hair, she wrestled the woman’s head to one side to expose her neck.

The Pict bucked and twisted, trying to break Rhyddes’s grip. ’Twas not much different than wrestling a fever-mad calf.

Rhyddes’s deft slice ended the threat.

Blood spurted from the woman’s neck in sickening pulses.

Rhyddes stood, panting, her stomach churning with the magnitude of what she’d done. ’Twas no suffering animal she’d killed—and it could have been her lying there, pumping her lifeblood into the mud.

Bile seared her throat, making her gag. Pain lanced her stomach. Bent double, she retched out the remains of her morning meal, spattering the corpse.

After spitting out the last bitter mouthful and wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she drew a deep breath and straightened. As she turned a slow circle, her senses taking in the sights and sounds and stench of the devastation surrounding her, she wished she had not prevailed.

The news grew worse as she sprinted toward the lodge.

Of her seven brothers, the Picts had left Ian and Gwydion dead, her father and Owen wounded, the lodge and three outbuildings torched. She ran a fingertip over the crusted blood of her scratch, and she couldn’t suppress a surge of guilt.

Mayhap, she thought through the blinding tears as she ran to help what was left of her family, ’twould have been better had she died in the Pict’s stead.

The surviving raiders were galloping toward the tree line with half the cattle. The remaining stock lay stiffening in the fields, already attracting carrion birds.

Three days later, the disaster attracted scavengers of an altogether different sort.

 

 

CHARACTER BIOS

I am Rhyddes ferch Rudd, which in your tongue means Freedom daughter of Red. The blood of ancient Celtic warriors flows in my veins, though I am a farmer’s daughter by the circumstance of my birth. My life spans much of the reign of the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, one of a very few men ever to claim that title who did not abuse his power for personal gain—but I care not who rules and who dies in this gods-cursed empire.

More than anything—even more than my freedom—I yearn to be my lover Aquila’s equal. As a foreign slave in an empire where citizenship stands paramount, where an arena fighter such as I can only be considered the equal of other gladiators, actors, undertakers, and whores, this goal seems impossibly remote. Although Aquila is the son of a powerful Roman, he has declared that he would renounce his aristocratic status, wealth, and power for me, but I cannot in good conscience allow him to destroy himself on my account.

And yet the gods have granted the impossible to other mortals. I pray that I am worthy to receive such a boon from them, for surely divine assistance is the only way for Aquila and I to bridge the vast social chasm that separates us from enjoying a future together.

 
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I loved how the author takes names that are unique for her stories. She takes a tale and gives it a fresh new meaning and adds her own special touches to make it more exiting and must read.
The story of Rhyddes is one of a strong and courageous woman. She was enslaved and endured things no one should however throughout the story we see how she rises into a warrior! Aquila loves to be that which he is not. He is a political being because his father;however, his love is that of a gladiator! Can a Celtic and Roman find love within a story through time that has been nothing but cruel to Rhyddes? This all happens during the Celtics/Roman battles. I loved how the author has taken this historic events to create a master piece. It is filled with romance, intensive suspense, and action! The story enraptured me immediately from the beginning, the author waste no time to show you her passion through her words. The novel in my opinion is unlike others because it has the fact and fiction aspect but the novel was finely tuned to where you couldn’t tell if it was fact or fiction. The characters almost come to life. The plot is exceptional with lots of body and description. I LOVED this book and look forward to seeing more from this author. If you like gladiator type novels with a touch of romance hurry and grab this you will not be disappointed! !

Mornings Journey - Author Photo AUTHOR BIO

Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, and assorted wildlife. People & creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-20th century—seem to be sticking around for a while yet.

Kim is a Seattle native (when she used to live in the Metro DC area, she loved telling people she was from “the other Washington”) and a direct descendent of twentieth-century Russian nobility. Her grandmother was a childhood friend of the doomed Grand Duchess Anastasia, and the romantic yet tragic story of how Lydia escaped Communist Russia with the aid of her American husband will most certainly one day fuel one of Kim’s novels. Another novel in the queue will involve her husband’s ancestor, the seventh-century proto-Viking king of the Swedish colony in Russia.

For the time being, however, Kim has plenty of work to do in creating her projected 8-book Arthurian series, The Dragon’s Dove Chronicles, and other novels under her new imprint, Pendragon Cove Press.

 

 

FOLLOW KIM

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GIVEAWAY PRIZES

– 5 e-copies of Liberty

– 10 note cards

– 1 autographed print copy of Liberty

 

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☆☆☆Teaser & Excerpt ~ Lori King’s Fetish and Fantasy Tour ☆☆☆

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Watching Sin Fetish Fantasy 1 Cover Image

Synopsis

After fifteen years as a bland housewife, Alana is ready to shake up her life by fulfilling her darkest fantasy. She wants to be watched. Her exhibitionist streak is ready to break free, and she knows exactly whom she wants for her voyeur.

Doug would give his wife, Alana, the moon if she asked, so he’s more than willing to participate in a public threesome at a fetish party if it makes her kinky wishes come true. His business partner and best friend, Killian is the wild card in their plan.

A businessman first, and a trained Dominant second, Killian never gets tied down to one submissive. He’s a lover with commitment issues, but he doesn’t hesitate to help fulfill Doug and Alana’s fantasies. Once the fantasy is set in motion, the three players must decide if watching sin is enough…

 

Warning: Adult Themes-For Mature Audiences. Sexually explicit content. M/M/F, graphic language, consensual BDSM, public sex, HFN.

 

Series Page: http://lorikingbooks.com/series.php?series-id=35 

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Mothers Day Sale

Message from Lori King!!

Happy Mother’s Day!

I don’t know any mother who doesn’t deserve to indulge themselves on Mother’s Day. From the biological to the adopted to the temporary, anyone who’s ever taken a child under their wing deserves something special. So I’ve discounted my entire Fetish & Fantasy book series. Each story is only .99 right now!

This series is a delightfully wicked foray into the world of private fetish parties and lusty adventures. I hope you’ll treat yourself or another mother by picking up these three tales, and spending the day pampering yourself.


Excerpt

Alana stood beside him, asking his permission to put on a show. She wanted him to strip her down, and fuck her in front of the other partygoers. His eyes met hers and he could see the fire burning in their sapphire-colored depths.

What had changed her mind? What had her so turned on tonight that she couldn’t deny her own need anymore?

The brush of a hand over his shoulder drew his attention, and he instantly understood. The man standing at his elbow was his best friend and business partner, Killian Whitfield. In his black and white tuxedo he looked more like a Hollywood movie star walking the red carpet than a businessman still trying to crack the million-dollar mark.

“Doug, Alana. How are you both this evening? Enjoying the…festivities I hope.”

Killian stood too close to Alana for propriety, yet Doug wasn’t put off. He was surprised to find that he wanted to put on a show for his friend. If Alana was willing to fuck in front of Killian, what else would she be willing to do with him present? He felt his dick thicken a little at the image of his wife on her knees sucking Killian’s cock in the middle of the living room. Never before had he fantasized about his wife with another man, but he could picture it with Killian. In his mind’s eye, he could see his friend’s long lean body, flexing and rippling with desire as his wife sucked him dry. That would be incredible to watch, and by the look on Alana’s face, she could picture such an event too. What a surprise this evening was turning out to be.

Submission Dance Fetish Fantasy 2 Cover Image

Synopsis

Marley Saltzman has a secret fantasy. She wants to let go of everything, and submit to a Dominant. Intrigued by her friends BDSM lifestyle, she convinces him to put her on the guest list for his monthly fetish party. She had no idea how far out of her element she would be until she came face to face with an experienced Dom.

Lex Gregory has been nursing heartache and raising his daughter alone for so long he barely remembers what a submissive feels like at his feet. When he meets Marley, he can’t believe that the naïve woman ever thought she could handle kink. All too quickly his need for her refreshing innocence and lack of preconceived notions grows, and he has to have her.

The two begin a subtle dance of sexual submission and wit that leads to a night of passion and unanswered questions. Will this dance end in heartache, or will they both find their darkest fantasies fulfilled?

Warning: Adult Themes-For Mature Audiences.  Sexually explicit content. M/F, graphic language, consensual BDSM, spanking, public sex, HEA.

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Excerpt

There was a wicked glint in his eyes that did strange things to her body. Her heart was racing and her palms were as damp as her panties. She was almost afraid to stand up from her seat again for fear she might now have a damp spot on the back of her skirt.

“Would you like to dance, Marley?” Lex asked, rising from the low slung chair. The height of her own seat put her face almost dead even with his crotch, and there was a distinct bulge under his zipper that she found very intriguing, but he didn’t seem to notice her predicament.

“I’m really not much of a dancer…” She stammered for an excuse not to get closer to him. He was too magnetic and charming for her. She was almost afraid that if she let him pull her onto the sparsely populated dance floor, she would turn into putty in his hands and never find herself again.

“The music is slow, and I know what I’m doing. Trust me to lead, and you’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure if he intended the double meaning behind his words or not, but her clit certainly heard it.

Holding out his hand, he waited for her to lay her palm against his and then he tugged her to her feet. She swayed slightly, and he steadied her with a hand on her lower back just above the curve of her ass. Immediately, she had to fight the urge to press herself against his long muscular body. Certainly he already thought her an easy mark after that steaming kiss; rubbing against him like a cat in heat wouldn’t help her circumstance.

He led her onto the dance floor without another word, and before she could turn to face him, he spun her around once, and then twice, so that her balance was off and she fell into him.
 
With an arrogant grin on his face, he wrapped his arms around her back, and steadied them on the curve of her spine, but within proper distance from her ass. “Better, now just relax and let me guide you.  That’s right, sway with me. Dancing is like making love. It’s sensual, and there’s an exchange of power between every couple. You trust me to lead you in the right movements, and I trust you to follow me, but at any point you can walk away.” His hot breath whispered over her ear from above, and her cheek brushed the smooth silk of his shirt. “You have all the control, Marley.”

Lex continued to murmur instructions to her, softly seducing her with his body and his innuendos. Her breasts grew heavy and achy, and her nipples were diamond hard points that she knew were probably poking through the thin material covering them. She tipped her head back to look up into his deep blue eyes, and her knees grew weak at the intense lust burning there.

“Careful. If you slip I get to carry you off and say I swept you off your feet. That would make you my rightful prize to do with as I pleased for the night,” he whispered.

Marley snorted out a laugh, “Is that a party rule?”

“No, but everyone knows the black knight steals away the princess at her first ball and seduces her.”

Mistress Hedonism Fetish Fantasy 3 Cover Image

Synopsis

Ana Gregory and her submissive Foster Craft are happy together. They enjoy a relationship that indulges their hedonistic desires, as well as gives them the security of a partner in real life. Until another submissive shines a light on the cracks in their foundation by asking to join their pairing.

 

Foster’s in love with Ana, and he would do anything to please her, but sleeping with a man who hurt them both is a huge test of trust; even if he wants the man in question, with every fiber of his being.

 

Four months ago Wyatt Marks made a huge mistake, but it brought him to some life-changing realizations. Now he has the opportunity to right his wrongs with Ana and Foster, as well as indulge the secret fantasies he’s hidden from himself all his life.

 

When the triad comes together the fires are hot, but will they all get burned in the process? Or will this one night of pleasure, fulfill a lifetime of fantasies for all of them?

 

Warning: Adult Themes-For Mature Audiences. Sexually explicit content. F/M/M, graphic language, consensual BDSM, spanking, public sex, HEA.

 

One-click this read while it is $.99 cents for a limited time

 

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Excerpt

“Say it. And be clear about what you’re saying because I’m walking a tight rope here between punching you in the face before walking out that door, and…” Foster’s voice drifted off, but Wyatt could see the spark of desire in his glare. The fire of hope lit in his chest, and he stepped closer to the other man, their bodies nearly touching.

 

“I want you. I fucked up, because I was scared of the fact that I wanted to fuck you, and be fucked by you.” Wyatt murmured. His mouth was so close to Foster’s that he knew the other man could feel the heat of his breath against his lips, and he watched with glee as Foster’s tongue darted out to lick his lips.

 

The temperature in the small room spiked, and Wyatt’s heart raced in his chest while he waited for Foster to respond. They exchanged breaths before their lips met as though magnets drawn by a force of nature. It was his first time kissing a man, and he was pleasantly surprised to find it was no different than kissing a woman. Harder, and more passionate perhaps, but the mechanics were the same.

 

From the moment they made contact, Wyatt took control of their lip lock, pressing Foster backward until his ass hit the counter again. Once he could go no further, Wyatt added his hands into the mix, gripping Foster’s face in his big palms, and holding him in place while their tongues danced sensually. Exploring each other, and finding a new sexy way of speaking without a word.

 

Behind the zipper of his jeans, his cock was hard as stone, and his balls were burning. He could feel the long length of Foster’s erection pressed against his abdomen, and when Foster’s hands came up to explore the bare skin of his chest, he groaned his approval. Before he could duplicate the gesture, a soft knock on the door startled them both and they jerked apart, panting for air.

 

lori

 

Author Bio

 

Best-selling author, Lori King, is also a full-time wife and mother of three boys. Although she rarely has time to just enjoy feminine pursuits; at heart she is a hopeless romantic. She spends her days dreaming up Alpha men, and her nights telling their stories. An admitted TV and book junkie, she can be found relaxing with a steamy story, or binging in an entire season of some show online. She gives her parents all the credit for her unique sense of humor and acceptance of all forms of love. There are no two loves alike, but you can love more than one with your whole heart.

 

With the motto: Live, Laugh, and Love like today is your only chance, she will continue to write as long as you continue to read. Thank you for taking the time to indulge in a good Happily Ever After with her. Find out more about her current projects at http://lorikingbooks.com, or look her up on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LoriKingBooks or Twitter: https://twitter.com/LoriKingBooks.

Giveaway

Signed copy of the Fetish and Fantasy Series + $10 Amazon Gift Card

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