Holiday Blog Tour & Contest ! Patricia Knight ~ Her to Cherish
Hers to
Cherish by Patricia A. Knight
Description:
Who would’ve thought a rogue nobleman and a secret agent tied in shibari knots would be so instrumental in saving a world from sexual slavery.
Ramsey desperately needs a pardon. The catch: Win a grueling and bloody gladiator game. His consolation: Elite mercenary, Steffania Rickard, has been ordered to help DeKieran ~ posing as his sexual submissive.
When Ramsey DeKieran, disgraced nobleman and accused murderer, is offered a pardon Ram knows there'll be a catch. The High Lord of Verdantia offers him a clean slate in exchange for the off-world rescue of a Verdantian noblewoman ~ a suicide mission that has already cost the lives of good men. The one redeeming feature is the assistance of the stunning captain of Verdantia’s elite mercenary team.
For Captain Steffania Rickard, assisting DeKieran in the rescue of a woman critical to the future of Verdantia will be difficult enough. The rogue trips all her triggers ~ good and bad. Infinitely worse, to fit into the culture of Vxloncia, she must pose as Ram's sex slave. The sexually dominant Ramsey is nothing if not perceptive and Steffania doubts her carefully disguised and deeply hidden desires will remain concealed.
Their mission takes on new meaning when they unmask a heinous program of enslavement, long cloaked in secrecy. Together they must find a way to overcome their initial animosity and recover a woman vital to the future of their race. Together, they will have to bring a malicious entity to justice. In the maelstrom of sex, savagery, domination and submission, Ram and Steffania will need all their wits and strength to survive.
Excerpt:
Chapter
One
N.T. Solar Date
4637
Captain
Steffania Rickard of the elite Blue
Daggers fumed silently as her
eyes scanned the seedy brothel’s dark, empty,
upstairs room.
Damn-it-all. I was certain I’d finally caught up to him.
She’d wasted the better part
of two months looking for this man. Her shoulders
slumped in fatigue. She’d
expended no small amount of energy slipping into this
absurdly well-guarded
bedroom. Any number of disreputable fighting men watched
the rooftop, the hall outside
and the stairs to the upper levels. No one had
watched the building’s
exterior walls, however, so she scaled the three-story
brothel’s ragged bricks and
entered by a poorly secured window.
A small
prick at her carotid, from what was
certainly a razor sharp
stiletto, froze her in place. She hardly dared to
breathe. Her heart leapt like
a springbok
eluding a hunting cat.
Stupid, stupid,
stupid. You know not to let
down your guard
.
“You are not
my type, Steffania. I like my women
submissive and kneeling at my
feet – not contentious and sneaking behind my
back. But if you want me bad
enough to break in here, I’ll accommodate
you.”
Ramsey
DeKieran’s deep, arrogant voice drawled low
in her ear. He jerked her
close, and his hard body pressed into her back. His
hand roamed freely,
intimately, between her thighs, across her abdomen then
higher to fondle her breasts.
He paused to toss her hidden blades and throwing
crescents to the floor. She couldn’t
mistake the prodding at the middle of her
back for anything other than
it was – a truly impressive
erection.
“You
conceited ass, I’m not here for that,” she
hissed as his fingers rolled
one of her nipples, sending sensation zinging to
her lower
region.
His knife
still at her throat, he growled, “Turn
very carefully. I need to
check your back for weapons.”
With a snarl
of her own, she complied. Unusual
eyes of glacial blue with an
outer ring of darker blue locked with hers. An
unfriendly grin stretched a
full, generous mouth on a gaunt, chiseled face of
high cheekbones and a
straight-bridged aristocratic nose. An unkempt comma of
black hair hung in the middle
of his forehead. A day’s worth of dark beard
shadowed his cheeks. He
looked feral, undomesticated.
His free
hand roamed her back and buttocks, his
arousal pressed into her soft
abdomen. He found the knife at the small of her
back and tossed it to the
growing collection. To her horror, the flesh between
her legs began to moisten.
Damn him!
He leaned in
and whispered in her ear, “Are you
getting wet, sweetheart? Does
dominance do it for you?”
“Bastard!” She shoved herself
violently away with
both hands, angered further
by his oh-so-accurate taunt. It had to be a guess.
She’d kept those desires
carefully hidden. She retreated several steps to face
him, gasping in air. “Don’t
flatter yourself.”
A dark
eyebrow arched slowly. “If you don’t want a
good fuck, then what do you
want, sweetheart?”
Steffania
prided herself on being a good liar. The
trick was to weave in some
truth with the lie. In truth, ever since she fought
beside DeKieran in the Haarb
wars, the scoundrel had headlined in her sexual
fantasies. “I’m not your
fucking sweetheart. You’re the last man I’d want.” She
threw her head back and
glared. “High Lord DeTano wants you. I’m just his
messenger.”
“Why would I
do anything for Ari DeTano?”
“For a
pardon.”
DeKieran
straightened his relaxed posture. Not
shrinking under his piercing
examination took discipline. She stood motionless
until the space between them
vibrated with almost visible tension. Damn you, Ramsey. Say
something.
Finally, he
shrugged. “I’ll hear what he has to
say.”
~ ~
~
The
royal
chambers for the Second
Tetriarch. So this is how the nobility lives.
Ram
ran his eyes along the
heavily carved, spice-wood paneling and then to the
marble floor covered with a
thick rug of tribal design in vibrant hues of red,
cobalt blue and gold. He
contrasted it with the rough timber walls plugged with
rags and paper that enclosed
his room at the whorehouse. The wafer-thin,
shit-brown rug on the plank
floor of his room had long ago lost its original
color to noxious stains and
ground-in dirt.
His mind
mentally tallied the worth of the gold
picture frames holding
miniature scenes
covering an antique
occasional table and the unusual vase made of a
precious-stone geode.
A ten thousand
credit vase holding common
wild flowers
. Pft. Someone has no regard
for the rarity of that item.
I wonder if it would be missed?
He considered
liberating the vase after he
heard what Ari DeTano wanted. That one item would
pay for his food and lodging,
and that of his men, for the next five years.
Ram was a
stranger to this part of Verdantia’s
capital. He knew only the
underbelly of Sylvan Mintoth – the places where the
filth of their planet
collected – human and otherwise. He’d never imagined a
time when he’d sit in Queen
Constante’s opulent antechamber – the evident
wealth an unwelcome reminder
of a life that should have been his. It is what it is. Deal with
it. He idly
worried a toothpick, flipping
it from one side to the other in his mouth. Two
members of the ruling
Tetriarch, High
Lord DeTano and his lover,
that blond devil of an assassin, Doral DeLorion,
appraised Ram in silence.
Ramsey returned their focused examination with cool
self-possession. If they
thought to make him nervous, they could think again.
Only those with something to
lose got nervous.
Ram grinned
at the feminine mercenary, Captain
Steffania Rickard – a
stunning, savagely competent soldier with breasts that
begged fondling and lush lips
that… Yeah, he knew where he’d like that mouth.
Her unusual eyes of
honey-gold glared back at him. Redheaded spitfire. He’d love
to have her to himself for several
days. The thought of taming
the proud beauty speared heat through his groin.
His dominance had aroused
her. Ram knew it. He had an unerring instinct for
detecting women who enjoyed
what he delivered.
With a long-suffering sigh to
indicate he didn’t
have all day – well, he did,
but those three didn’t need to know – Ram
addressed DeTano. “Rickard
said you wanted to talk to me. I’m here.” He crossed
his legs with a casual
indolence and rested an ankle on his knee. “What can a
dispossessed nobleman and
accused murderer do for High Lord DeTano?”
DeTano
nodded at his blond lover and second in the
ruling trio. Other business
occupied their beloved queen, or Fleur Constante
would have been present, too.
“We have an issue. Segundo DeLorion suggested your name as a
solution. The Senzienza, in her obscure, mystical way,
has indicated Lady Alessa
DeAlbero is critical to the future of our
world.”
“So? You
don’t need me to find a lost noble woman
with invaluable genes. You
command the resources of the Second
Tetriarch. I’m
just one
man.”
DeLorion crossed
his arms, and his rich voice fell
softly into the room. “We’ve
tried for almost a year to recover her. We sent
others – many others. They
turned up dead – or not at
all.”
After a moment of silence, High Lord
DeTano
continued. “The Haarb sold
Lady DeAlbero to Veacon Narr. We located her but
before we could move, Narr
hid her.”
Ramsey
grunted. “What makes you think the most
notorious slaver in the
Hyperion Galaxy is going to let me waltz in to
extricate the woman if all
your efforts have failed?”
Again,
DeLorion’s voice fell quietly in the room.
“We just need you to find her
and get her to a rendezvous point. We’ll get her
off-planet. I have approached
the League of Federated Planets for assistance.
But it is as I suspected. Our
galactic peacekeepers won’t act unless I can
document serious violations
of galactic law. They won’t act for the recovery of
just one
person.”
Ram shook
his head. “Still, why send me where
others have
failed?”
The smile
DeLorion bestowed on Ram would have
shriveled lesser men. “I
would prefer you dead. My sister seems to think you
deserve a second chance.”
Doral lifted a shoulder in a shrug and shook his head
as if to say his sister’s
desires were incomprehensible. “Why you? You
demonstrate a remarkable
penchant for self-preservation coupled with a
reputation for accomplishing
the impossible – all while eluding capture.
Besides, I am tired of
consoling the families of good men. You are
more...expendable.
No one will mourn your
death.”
Ramsey
chuckled and returned his smile, in kind.
“I did allow your sister to
escape.”
“You
kidnapped her in the first
place.”
Ram
shrugged. “I was paid to do a job. I did
it.”
Doral held
Ram in an icy stare. “And yet you still
live.”
DeTano
interrupted their innuendo-laden exchange
and tossed a rolled parchment
into Ram’s lap. “Read it. It absolves you of all
crimes recorded against you,
past or present. Find Lady Alessa DeAlbero, and we
will sign
it.”
Ram picked
it up and scanned it casually. DeTano
was correct. The unsigned
pardon was broad-sweeping. Ram’s eyebrows rose at the
minutely detailed list of
criminal involvements he’d thought no one else knew about. “Someone
has
been very interested in me
for a very long time.” He smiled without humor and
tapped the scroll on his knee
with an assumed air of boredom. “How will you
convince our good queen to
sign this?”
DeTano
looked at him thoughtfully. “Supreme
Commander Eric DeStroia
uncovered evidence that may cast doubt on your
conviction.” Ari shrugged.
“The case can be reopened.”
A
resurgence of pain at
Desiree’s death and anger at his unjust conviction
flooded Ram. Hell’s
breath. Thought I had
left those emotions
behind.
His sardonic gaze rose and caught first DeTano
then DeLorion. “If I’m
successful, you have Lady DeAlbero, if unsuccessful, my
dead body, and all it costs
you is a piece of paper.”
A feral
smile pulled at DeLorion’s face. “Yes.
What I call a ‘win-win’
situation – for me.”
Ramsey threw
his head back and laughed. When he
sobered, he observed,
“Vxloncia is a hi-tech planet. I have never been off the
surface of our primitive
Verdantia. My lack of familiarity with anything
technical will handicap
me.”
“Yes. We are
aware of that. A Blue Dagger will
accompany you,” DeTano said.
Ram
considered the elite off-world mercenaries who
had remained on Verdantia at
the end of the Haarb war. His illicit,
paramilitary group
assiduously avoided Captain Steffania Rickard and her Blue
Daggers. If Doral DeLorion
was Ari DeTano’s right hand, then Steffania Rickard
was his left. The Daggers had
earned their reputation as galactic ‘bad-asses’
in spectacular fashion during
the Haarb wars. Ram had fought side-by-side with
Steffania and her Daggers
during one campaign. As much as he would trust his
life to anyone, he’d trust it
to the Daggers – particularly their red-haired
commander.
Ram grunted
his acceptance. “It is also a world
where male domination and
female submission is enforced. I think their terms
are dominus and
slaaf.
They hold their women close.
Where do you suggest I start?”
“With Narr,
himself,” said DeTano. “One of our
contacts said Narr was
infatuated with Lady Alessa. He knows we look for her.
He keeps her well
hidden.”
“And just
how do I get close to Narr?”
DeLorion
uncrossed his arms and tossed another
paper into Ramsey’s lap. “The
planet holds ‘gladiator games’ as entertainment.
Narr, the primary sponsor, is
obsessed with the bloodshed and spectacle. He
always invites the winner of
the games to his compound for an orgy of
celebration. That will be
your best chance to find Lady
DeAlbero.”
Ram sighed
and rubbed his face tiredly. “Gladiator
games.”
Shit.
“We took the
liberty of entering your name,”
DeTano said. “It’s ‘no holds
barred’, but the only weapons allowed are archaic.
You will be familiar with all
of them.”
“Should be
right up your alley, DeKieran. You get
to fight dirty.” Captain
Rickard’s feminine lilt spat the insult at him. “But
this presupposes you’ll win.”
He’d
forgotten her presence. At her challenge to both
his honor and his fighting
prowess – all right, perhaps he had no honor, but
the slur to his skills stung
– Ram rose to his feet and turned to look at her.
A wickedly satisfying thought
formed. He threw a quick glance at DeTano. “A
Blue Dagger goes with me,
yes?” DeTano nodded. “I’ll take your job, on one
condition.” Ram pointed at
Steffania. “That Blue Dagger goes – as my sexual
submissive.”
Enter to Win!
• Erotic Enchants Members - 1 signed paperback of Hers
To Cherish w/ bookmark (US ONLY)
• Erotic Enchants Members - 2 ebook
copies of Hers To Cherish
• BDSM Group Members - 1 signed
paperback of Hers To Cherish w/ bookmark (US ONLY)
• BDSM Group Members - 2
ebook copies of Hers To Cherish
• 3 signed paperback copies of HerTo
Cherish with bookmark (US ONLY)
• 20 ebook copy of Hers To
Cherish
About the
Author:
Patricia A.
Knight is the pen name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas with
her horses, dogs and the best man on the face of the earth – oh yeah, and the
most enormous bullfrogs you will ever see. Word to the wise: don’t swim in the
pool after dark.
I love to hear from my readers and can be reached at Troll River Publishing or My Website. Or send me an email at patriciaknight190@gmail.com. Check out my “Hot Hunk of the Day” and latest releases, contests and other fun stuff on my Facebook Page.
I love to hear from my readers and can be reached at Troll River Publishing or My Website. Or send me an email at patriciaknight190@gmail.com. Check out my “Hot Hunk of the Day” and latest releases, contests and other fun stuff on my Facebook Page.
Social Links:
Buy
Links:
Tour
Coordinator:
Please check out the other stops on this tour
today:
4th annual Holiday Party in Erotic Enchants on goodreads.com.
Check out the entire schedule of the 18 Holiday Party Blog Tour stops & participating bloggers HERE.
Join the party and win from a prize pool of over 1,500 books and prizes by these generous authors!
This post contains Affiliate Links.
Comments