A Shared Love

A Shared Love - the final book in the Spartan arc

Once a warrior, now a fugitive.

Spartan fighter Theron has done the unthinkable—he's disobeyed orders and fled Sparta. All for his helot lover, Andreas. They can run, or they can die.

They’ve sworn oaths to Apollo; now their future lies in the god’s sacred city. The road to Delphi runs through treacherous wilderness, filled with vengeful warriors, greedy bandits, and savage creatures. Nor are the cities safe for strangers wearing the red cloaks of the Spartan military.

Once slated for execution at Theron’s hand, Andreas finds it hard to trust the man who betrayed him. Forgiving Theron grows easier for Andreas with every step they take. He isn't ready to trust Theron with his heart again—but remembering why is getting harder and harder.

A god’s scheming places a fellow exile in their path, Theron’s shield-brother Coridan. Still reeling from his own tragedy, Coridan could be the force that tears them apart forever, or who brings them together in Apollo’s service.

Three different men, three different pasts, who must unite in a common destiny.

If they can survive.

The ebook will be available from Amazon in a few days. Distribution will be more widespread in a few days as well.

Rainbow Snippet - From the Ashes

From the Ashes is a Cinderfella that I intend to rerelease after the New Year.

Cinder never thought that he could rise from the ashes of his life, but an unexpected encounter with a woman claiming to be be his fairy godmother may be just what he needs. Finding himself flung into his own fairy tale, she sends him off to meet his Prince Charming. But was the gown really necessary?

Midnight? What was so special about midnight? He had no intention of going, much less staying that late.

A soft hand at the small of his back coaxed him into motion, urging him toward the front of the manor. Every time Cinder opened his mouth to protest, she prattled right over him without even pausing for breath.

"But I don't want to go. I don't need a prince. I am a man!"

Map of Hellas and Sparta

The wonderful Catherine Dair made me this map of ancient Greece for my Apollo's Men series. It will be featured in A Tested Love, the sequel to A Spartan Love.

Words alone cannot say how much I love this.

Lexicon for A Tested Love: E-H

Elysium or the Elysian Fields—a form of the afterlife distinct from Hades, the Underworld. The fields are a pleasant realm where the righteous and heroic continued their “lives.”

Eos—the goddess of the dawn.

Ephors—five men elected every year to rule Sparta with the two kings. They could only serve for one year, never to be elected again. They served as a check on the two kings; although, later the kings became merely generals and religious figureheads.

Erastês—the older man in a pederastic relationship, the mentor. The word means “lover.”

Erinyes—three Underworld goddesses who punished evildoers, particularly those guilty of homicide, unfilial conduct, crimes against the gods, and perjury.

Erômenos (plural: erômenoi)—the younger man in a pederastic relationship, the mentee. The word means “beloved.”

Eros—one of the Erotes, winged gods of love. Eros represented love and Himeros desire.

Erotes—winged youths, the gods of love. Eros and Himeros were present at Aphrodite's birth.

Eurotas River—a river that ran through the fertile valley between the Taygetos Mountains to the west and Parnon Mountain range to the east. The villages comprising Sparta clustered around the river on this plain between the mountain ranges.

Fibula (plural: fibulae)—an ancient brooch. It replaced the straight pin for fastening clothing and is the forerunner of the modern safety pin.

Firepot—a small clay pot for carrying a live coal. It was packed tightly with dried grasses. The Greeks didn’t have flint and steel or even the fire drill. Therefore, it was imperative they not let their hearth fire go out. Fire had to be carried with them. When founding a new colony, fire was taken from the founding city’s ritual hearth and carried to the colony’s hearth. If the ritual hearth fire went out, it could be relit from the flame at Delphi.

Funerary practices—these practices varied, but tended to become more elaborate with time. The deceased was bathed, anointed with oil, and wrapped in a shroud before being laid out on a bier (funeral bed). The house was adorned with marjoram, celery, myrtle, and laurel. Often a coin was placed in the deceased’s mouth as payment to Charon, the ferryman. Then followed a prothesis, a period of ritual morning, initially family members and friends, but later it involved professional mourners who tore out their hair in grief and threw handfuls of dirt on themselves.
     · The third night after the death, the corpse was taken to the cemetery in a procession called an ekphora. It was very important for the mourners to make a loud noise and be prominently seen so the shade of the deceased could see the honor it was being paid. In fact, failure to provide a suitable funeral was a cause of outrage in the community.
     · Once at the cemetery, the body was placed on a pyre and cremated. The ashes were collected and placed in an amphora. The urn was then buried with appropriate grave goods and frequently a stele as a grave marker.

Gerousia—the Spartan council of elders. They were the legislative and judicial portion of the Spartan government. Twenty-eight of the members were elected for life and had to be over the age of sixty when they retired from the military. The other two seats belonged to the kings.

Hekate—the Underworld goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, moon, ghosts and necromancy. The black she dog is one of her sacred animals and she sometimes takes its shape. She is also the three-faced goddess of crossroads.

Helots—a type of slave particular to Sparta. They were the original inhabitants of Lacedaemonia. When the Spartans invaded the Peloponnesian peninsula, they enslaved the native dwellers, leaving their steadings primarily intact.
     · The helots were never chattel the way all other Greek slaves were. They were more like medieval serfs. They belonged to the land, the klēros. Spartiates were allotted a klēros and the helots assigned to work it.
     · Helots could also work as servants in a Spartiates’ home, as mothônes accompanying the youths in the agōgē, or as craftsmen, it being beneath a Spartan to do any form of manual labor.
     · The helots vastly outnumbered their masters. Thus requiring some rather extreme measures to keep them from revolt.

Hephaestus—the god of fire, volcanism, and all things crafted. He was lame and weak at his birth, so his mother Hera cast him from Olympus in disgust.

Heraclid—means descended from Herakles. The two kings of Sparta were Heraclids from the ruling houses of the Eurypontid and Agiad. The kings "reigned" jointly as checks on each other. Through most of Sparta's history, the influence of the kings waned until they were little more than generals and religious figureheads.

Herakles—also known as Hercules by the Romans, had a male lover, Iolaus. When Iolaus died, he was entombed outside of Thebes. Men would travel to the tomb to make oaths to the hero and each other.

Hesperides—three goddesses of evening and the sunset, they were the daughters of Nyx. They guarded the golden apples given to Hera as a wedding present. Apples are a Greek symbol of love.

Hestia—the virgin goddess of the hearth, family, and home. Every city and every home had a shrine to her. She received the first offering at every household sacrifice. Every family hearth was her alter. No city could be founded without her sacred flame, taken from the parent polis.

Hetairai – Aphrodite's temple prostitutes in Corinth. Although the term also refers to highly educated and much sought after courtesans who could take part in symposia, handle their own money, and paid taxes. They could choose whether to have sexual relations with their clients.

Hētairēkós—a kept boy, carries negative connotations of a young man incapable of providing for himself. In Athens, if it were proven that a man had been a kept boy, he lost his citizenship and all rights, especially the right to vote.

Hiereus (plural: hierei)—Greek for priest. I use “Hiereus” to mean high priest and hiereus/hierei to mean priest/priests.

Himeros—one of the Erotes, winged gods of love. Himeros represented desire and Eros love.

Hoplites—the standard warrior of the age. Heavily armored and armed with long spears, the men formed tight ranks, each man shielding the one next to him. They were a very effective fighting force.

Horos—meaning limit or boundary, were boundary marker stones. The stones were placed around the periphery of a property. The stones were large and often had advisements of their function declaring them to be marks written on their surface. Usually in the form of "I am…."

Hubris—means extreme haughtiness, pride or arrogance. Most commonly used to describe the actions of those who challenged the gods or their laws. Overweening pride, especially in Greek tragedy, resulted in the protagonist’s fall. Hubris was considered the greatest crime of ancient Greek society. The person performs some act of folly due to their excessive pride, usually resulting in their downfall or some fatal retribution (Nemesis).

Hyacinthus—a Spartan prince and one of Apollo’s male lovers. Zephyrus, the god of the west wind, also loved Hyacinthus. If a fit of jealousy, Zephyrus blew a discus off course. The discus struck the prince, killing him. Apollo used the young man’s blood to create the flower bearing his name, the hyacinth.

Hyades—the nymphs of the rain, were the daughters of Atlas. When their brother Hyas was slain by a wild beast, they mourned him and became known as “the rainy ones.” Zeus placed them in the heavens as the constellation Hyades. Their helical setting in November signaled the start of the rainy season.

Hypnos—the daemon, or minor god, of sleep.

A Spartan Love: Rainbow Awards Honorable Mention

I am so tickled that A Spartan Love earned an Honorable Mention on the Rainbow Awards for the gay historical romance category.

"A very unique historical romance that is very rich in the setting and the background, one can tell the author has done her research....a fascinating read and perfect for its time and place...."

To read the rest of the judge's thoughts on the first book in the Apollo's Men Spartan Love arch go to the Rainbow Awards listing.

The judge, and hopefully you, will be glad to know that I've begun the editing process for A Tested Love, the sequel to A Spartan Love, and the next book in the series should be available around Valentine's Day.

Wrecked Blog Tour and Giveaway

Thank you, Kayla, for kicking off my WRECKED Blog Tour for my upcoming historical romance.

It's my pleasure! You know I love your stories and a historical is even better.

On May 15^th Dreamspinner Press will be releasing WRECKED, my fourth book with them—my seventeenth overall not including free reads.

I can hardly believe that this book is finally coming out. Editing a historical novel of this size took a while, but not nearly as long as it took to write it! 96K is the finished length. Plenty to sink your teeth into if you’re looking for a nice long, romantic read, if I do say so myself LOL

WRECKED had its birth in 2009 when my husband and I went on vacation to Key West, Florida. One afternoon we decided to tour the Key West Shipwreck Museum. I thought we would see some relics from under the sea, but I never expected to be inspired to write this book…..let alone find the name for my hero Rief in a video of a salvaging operation in the 80s, LOL.  Did you know that in the 1850s Key West was the wealthiest city per capita in America? That money was brought in by salvaging ships wrecked on the Florida Reef, a dangerous occupation which was sanctioned by the US federal courts. These hearty sailors had a reputation as pirates in some circles, and rumors abounded that they tricked mariners into hiring them, or even had a hand in wrecking the ships to begin with.

Talk about a perfect setting for a romance novel!

Now Key West is one of my favorite cities and taking the time to learn the history of this unique place was a lot of fun. I endeavored to layer all of these details, places, people of that Pre-Civil War era and I hope readers really get the feeling that they are right there in Key West with Mathew and Rief. Take a look at the blurb:

Blurb from WRECKED:

Off the Key West coast, Rief Lawson works as a wrecker, salvaging ships and their cargo. Exiled to the outskirts of society because of his mysterious gift of sight, Rief’s only respite from his loneliness is painting an unknown blond man. When a merchant ship wrecks during a violent storm, Rief rescues a drowning victim and comes face-to-face with his destiny.

It is the man from his art!

Heir to an English barony, Mathew Weston entered the merchant trade with his greedy father and soon-to-be father-in-law. Dominated by his father and smothered by the people around him—including his sweet but tiresome fianceé—Mathew is terrified to follow his true desires. Marriage and obedience seem safer than a life of secrecy and possible prison.

After the daring rescue, a fire ignites between the two men. Powerless to resist his desire, Mathew learns what it means to be a man in Rief’s arms. With this newfound confidence, Mathew teaches Rief through gentle touch that he deserves the affection he’s long been denied. Yet their affair is doomed from the start. Two desperate men, wrecked in heart and mind, must find a way to salvage the chance at love fate has given them.

During my WRECKED Blog Tour, I will be sharing exclusive excerpts at all of my stops. Today I am going to start with one of my favorite scenes, when Mathew and Rief meet face to face for the first time. Enjoy!

Excerpt from WRECKED:

“Every time I look around, I see incompetence. Torino warned us not to trust the wreckers. Lawson even hired another diver without my permission,” Father spat, fussing with the cuffs of his coat. “Driving the cost up, no doubt. I will not allow these scoundrels to lessen our insurance claim. We do not need five divers.”

Though Mathew found it odd Father was concerned with a yet to be made claim rather than salvaging their cargo, he was more interested in the wrecking operation. “Why have we hired divers?”

“Yes, the way she sits, the lower holds are still flooded and the pump isn’t keeping up, so men swim down to get the cargo by free diving,” Mr. Kirkwood explained.

“Sounds heroic.”

Father scoffed and raked him with a sneer. “What would you know of heroics, Mathew? When you’re needed to see to the safety of two ladies, you fall overboard like a fop, then take ill. Come, Kirkwood. I want to find Lawson and give him a piece of my mind.” He paused to give Mathew an arch of brows. “I trust you will be returning to port with the other women?”

He spoke so loudly a few crewmen of the Mirabella chuckled as they passed.

Mathew felt his face burn and could not think of a suitable reply.

What would he say anyway?

A terrible marksman and an even worse equestrian, Mathew often chose the company of women over his own sex. As a child it had been the opposite, he couldn’t get enough of being around the other boys, especially the older, athletic ones. But things changed when his body had begun to mature. He shied away from them, preferring female companions though he had no attraction to women outside of a general appreciation of their aesthetics and their more accepting natures. At one time, he had attributed this propensity to never having a mother and thus he craved female attention. But now he understood that certain men made him nervous because he found them attractive, sensual—just the way a woman should view men.

Snickering to himself, Father walked off.

Mr. Kirkwood hesitated to follow. Glancing at the sailors still chuckling, he offered an apologetic pat to Mathew’s back. “Excuse me, Mr. Weston. I’ll be back in a moment.” After a wan smile, he followed Father.

The respect and subsequent pitying gesture caused Mathew’s humiliation to increase, and along with it, his temper. Angry at himself, he gripped the railing tight once they left, the pain of his crutch digging into his armpit and making him even angrier.

Damnation!

The last three years at Cambridge, where his friends and peers treated him as an equal, Mathew believed he’d come into his own. Successful in his studies and well-liked, his gait had improved, walking as tall as his short stature allowed. He’d even found an athletic activity he excelled at for the first time in his life, the rowing team, and he’d passed his Tripos with first-class honors. He’d actually felt like an adult.

Like a man.

Yet the second he returned to London, one word from Father had reduced Mathew to the same pathetic child he’d always been, yearning for sympathy and love, but finding only scorn and resentment instead.

He gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Going back with the other women,” he muttered to himself in a haughty baritone version of Father. “Other women, indeed!”

Just because he had feminine fantasies, did not mean he was a woman!

“Annoying isn’t it?” a husky voice said.

Startled, Mathew’s head jerked back, and he almost fell over in shock when he looked up into eyes he had not imagined.

Oh dear God….

Bare-chested, and looking every bit as wild as the storm that had wrecked their ship, stood the man who had rescued him.

Rief.

Mathew’s heart skipped, and his body flushed.

Rief was even more handsome than he recalled!

Damp, sandy-brown hair brushed Rief’s neck and brow, the whisper of sunlight peeking out of the heavy clouds revealing hints of copper and gold where it had dried. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot and tired, but the color of them Mathew had been unable to recall turned out to be a bit of everything that was the tropics. Gold of the sand at sunset. Blue of the deepest parts of the sea. Green of the shallows catching the sunlight. Whatever way he moved, they picked up the colors reflecting around him. This was a man born of the sea, a child of this restless land.

Mathew had to look like a fool talking aloud to himself!

How could he possibly be so absurd?

“Pardon?” he muttered, tugging on the edge of his shirtsleeve to cover his embarrassment and overly aware of how the sun glistened on the hairs dusting the man’s tanned muscular body—and the way the air felt much hotter than before.

“Annoying when they talk to you like you’re a child. My brother does it to me all the time,” Rief said. His soft brown curls luffed in the wind.

“Y-yes, I suppose so.” Transfixed by how much wider and taller than him Rief was, he felt like a child looking up at a giant. And why wasn’t the man wearing a shirt? Positively distracting, that was what it was!

“Makes you want to plant a fist right in their throat,” he said, with a sideways smirk that Mathew wasn’t sure was humor or serious. “Glad to see you’re up and well. How’s your leg?”

“I-it’s fine, thank you,” he managed.

When Rief grinned, a solitary dimple on his left cheek undid Mathew completely.

Is this what a swoon feels like? Get a hold of yourself! Only women swoon!

Thank you for hosting my today, Kayla. Don’t forget to enter to win one of the two copies of WRECKED

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

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You can also find her young adult alter ego, K.D. Worth Facebook│Twitter

Buy Deanna’s books at Dreamspinner Press, Decadent Publishing or at any reputable eBook seller

Tags:

Wrecked, Key West Shipwreck Museum, Key West, Pre-Civil War Key West, Florida, Florida Reef, salvaging in the Keys, Florida Keys, Key West history, Dreamspinner Press, Deanna Wadsworth, historical romance, wreckers, gay romance, gay, rafflecopter, giveaway, free book, contest, new release

The House of Dionysus

Dionysus and the satyr

Lisa Henry, JP Kenwood and I have created a new group on Goodreads for the discussion of m/m set against the backdrop of the Greco-Roman world.

We are entertaining questions about our stories and the ancient world, Classical History in particular.

Please drop by The House of Dionysus and chat.

Becky Condit of USA Today Gives A Spartan Love 5 Stars

"Kayla Jameth writes the most exciting historical romance, and when I say historical I mean waaaaay back in history. Spartans and Greeks, gods and goddesses, farmers and nomads. I can't recommend her book A Spartan Love highly enough." - Becky Condit

Love and Lust rec: A Spartan Love by Kayla Jameth

A Spartan Love Bonus Scene

Disclaimer: This is a bonus scene not found in A Spartan Love. As such, it has not been edited and for all intents and purposes is a rough draft.

Theron hefted the full wineskin he had "acquired" as Andreas so carefully referred to his foraging. Both words were merely euphemisms for the theft that had kept him fed for years. But if that made Andreas more comfortable in his presence, so be it.

The wine would be his sole contribution tonight. But ever since Andreas had admitted he wouldn't be able to trade to replenish his stock until after the harvest, Theron had been looking for a chance to bring him some.

Ahead he could see Andreas' hut silhouetted against the fading reds and deepening purples of the setting sun.

Now he would have to wait until darkness made it safe to visit the helot. If someone had told Theron that he, a kryptes, would be here to dine with the man, he would have been offended. Kryptes existed to spy on helots and kill them if necessary, not befriend them.

But Andreas had changed all that with a single meal. A bowl of barley gruel left on a stool beside his door for the kryptes who had pursued him into his home and doubtless scared him half to death. Stunned, and not just at the novelty of the meal—no one had bothered to feed him in nearly a year—Theron had returned night after night. And night after night, food had awaited him. Until the night Andreas invited Theron into his home.

He had set Theron's world on its ear—natural born enemies breaking bread and sharing salt. Theron now had obligations to his host and friend. Obligations that were at odds with his training and responsibilities as a kryptes.

Excited at the thought of a tipsy Andreas, he'd arrived a bit early. Leaning back against a handy tree trunk, Theron wondered what Andreas, the worse for wine, would be like. Would he laugh more? Become more affectionate like Coridan had the one time Lysander had given him his share of wine?

Warmth filled Theron's chest at the thought of Andreas touching him. Would he be able to get the man in his arms? All those hard muscles pressed up against him. Theron shuddered. He couldn't wait to find out.

Finally, Nix covered the sky with her star-studded cloak. Glancing carefully around, Theron held his breath, listening for any indication he was not alone. Nothing but the evening breeze, some snuffling from the goats, and the rising drone of the cicadas.

Using the cover of the goat pen, he made his way to Andreas' door. He glanced down at the stone likeness of Priapus at his feet. "Keep this house safe," he murmured and slipped inside.

The warm scent of food, wood smoke, and animals met him. A smell that was quickly coming to represent "home" to him.

Andreas had just placed a bowl of olives on the table. He glanced up, relief and pleasure shining in his eyes. "You made it."

Theron didn't even try to keep the smile off his face. "And I brought this." He held out the sloshing wineskin.

"Wine?" Andreas asked.

Theron nodded.

"I haven't had any in months. This autumn I'm going to get twice as much."

Andreas accepted the offering and poured some into both cups. He carefully watered the wine, swirling their cups to mix it. With a smile of his own, he handed a cup to Theron before raising the second to his lips.

The sweet, red liquid slid down Theron's throat and warmed his belly. He rarely drank wine and even then only sparingly. Drunkenness disgraced not only the man but Sparta as well.

Licking his lips, Andreas set his cup on the table. "I'd forgotten how good that was."

"Yes," Theron agreed. "I haven't tasted any since the Karneia." In a few short months, he would be called back to Sparta to celebrate the most important of Apollo's festivals. As all Spartans were required to attend, he'd see his mother again, and most likely his younger brother as well.

Speaking of the gods…. Theron stepped over to Andreas' hearth and the household gods arrayed there. "Guard and protect us," he requested of the deities as he poured a libation.

When he turned back to the table, Andreas was draining the wine from his cup. Andreas blushed. "It really is good."

Theron smiled and added more. "I'm glad you like it. I'll bring more next time."

Sitting at the table, Theron perused the food spread across its surface. He was always amazed at the sheer volume and variety Andreas provided. Andreas ladled lentil soup into bowls. Olives and a stack of the ever-present rounds of flat bread sat within easy reach.

A plate held Ictis' favorite roasted eggs, still in their sooty shells.

As if on cue, the furry beast pawed at Theron's leg. The distinctive scent of musty honey followed him.

"Hungry, little warrior?"

"He's always hungry. You should see what I have to go through to protect your dinner from him."

"That's all right," Theron assured the ferret. "I'll see that you get fed now."

Only the work of a moment, Theron peeled an egg and offered it to Ictis. He held the ferret's dinner so he could take the initial bite. As the egg was bigger than the creature's head, he usually had to pursue the oval until he managed to trap it in a corner first.

"You should have just let him chase it. That would have kept him busy for a while. Now he will be back for more soon."

Theron shrugged. "Let him." He liked the silly beast.

Andreas carefully removed the lid from one of his pottery cooking dishes. A roasted rabbit lay steaming inside, nestled in a bed of turnips. The mixed aroma of meat and garlic had Theron's stomach rumbling.

"Did you find some time to take Ictis hunting?"

"Yes. I just wish the rabbits wouldn't make their warrens in my fields. I have to be careful when I till the ground so I don't step in one and break a leg."

"Which field?" Theron asked, alarmed. If Andreas did break a leg, he could die without someone to help him. If wolves found him alone and unable to escape….

Andreas pointed to the hills to the northwest. "The field is up that way. But I'm not ready to work the ground yet. I'll let the goats graze it down first so I can see what I'm doing."

Theron breathed a sigh of relief. He would keep a close eye on the man once he started on that field.

He drew the bronze knife from his girdle and carved the rabbit. Two rounds of bread served as plates. He pushed one to Andreas and drew the other across the table for himself.

When Theron groaned at the succulent taste of meat that wasn't simultaneously burnt and raw, Andreas flushed and reached for his wine. He emptied the cup again.

Refilling the wine, Theron noticed Andreas' flush hadn't subsided and his eyes were beginning to sparkle. Theron had never seen Andreas so relaxed and happy. The wine was working its magic on the man. He would most definitely do this again.

Dinner disappeared at a steady pace, but nothing like those first few times when he had shoved the food in so fast it was a wonder he had tasted anything. Theron was used to shield-brothers who would swoop in and devour everything, if he wasn't quick enough to get his own share. Over the course of the past few weeks, he'd learned to savor every bite.

And savor was the only word appropriate for Andreas' cooking. Theron had never in his life tasted so many varied and flavorful dishes. Not in his mother's house and definitely not since leaving for the agōgē. The gods knew he couldn't cook.

"I never knew bread could be soft and so good." Theron waved the golden round at Andreas before taking another bite.

"Uh…. Thank you." Andreas blushed more easily this time and hid behind his wine again.

Theron grinned and Andreas gulped, his throat moving fitfully with each swallow.

Retrieving the wineskin, Theron poured the last of the wine into Andreas' cup.

"I can't drink it all!" Andreas objected. "You should have some."

"I've had some." Theron raised his cup. When he finished here tonight, he would slip back to his hidden campsite. He couldn't risk dulling his senses.

Before Andreas could argue further, Ictis jumped onto the table and made his way toward the last egg. Theron chuckled.

"Oh no, you don't!" Andreas grabbed for the ferret and swiped Theron's cup instead.

The vessel hit Theron. Wine spilled down his chest, pooling in his lap.

"Oh no!" Andreas leapt up and dashed across the single room. He returned with a scrap of cloth.

Theron pulled his sticky chiton away from his skin. Andreas gripped Theron's bare shoulder and dabbed at the liquid on his chest. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…."

His fingers flexed and slid down Theron's arm. The cloth brushed over Theron's nipple and Theron fought to keep a groan from breaking free. He was enjoying the rare touches too much to risk startling Andreas into releasing him.

Theron knew that Andreas wasn't ready yet to admit to the attraction growing between them. He probably feared allowing Theron to see his need. But Theron felt it too, a desire that could be deadly to them both.

But the danger did not prevent Theron's cock from thickening. Andreas patted Theron's belly just a handsbreadth away from the rising head of his cock. Theron reached out and gripped Andreas' shoulder as a shudder swept through him. He hoped Andreas was too distracted to notice.

Andreas was still muttering, "Sorry" and "Just let me…." His gaze followed the red trail of spilled wine over Theron's wide girdle where it mimicked the trail of hair the leather hid and Andreas' hand stilled. He swallowed very audibly and pressed the cloth into Theron's hand.

"I…. Um…. I can't…." He swallowed again. "You'd better finish." He stepped back, but his eyes followed Theron's hands as he wiped himself.

Now that Andreas had already released him, Theron didn't see anything to be gained by hiding his attraction from the man. Once he removed as much of the wine from the skirt of his chiton as possible, he reached under the cloth and rubbed himself dry.

He couldn't help becoming even harder with Andreas' gaze riveted on him. When he finally dropped the rag, his erection tented his chiton in a fashion neither one of them could deny.

With a shudder, Andreas tore his gaze away. "We should see if Ictis left us anything." He sat back down, staring at the table.

With everything turned awkward, Theron tossed about for something to restore the happy, relaxed atmosphere. The cause of all this was still on the table.

Ictis nudged an egg around the earthenware pitcher filled with water. The egg wobbled and rolled in a half circle before dropping over the edge. The crack as the shell broke was unmistakable.

The ferret jumped from the table to Theron's lap and then down to the floor. He chased the erratically rolling egg until it came to rest against Theron's foot.

"All that and you still can't eat it?" Theron leaned down and picked up the errant egg. He held it up and examined the pattern of cracks in the shell.

Jumping back into his lap, Ictis placed one paw on Theron's chest. His nose twitched as he stretched, attempting to reach the egg.

"Do you want this, little warrior?"

"More like little thief," Andreas muttered.

"Does he know any tricks?"

Andreas shook his head. "I've never tried to teach him any."

"I bet he would be easy enough to train," Theron mused. Could he convince the little clown to do something that would make Andreas laugh again?

Theron moved the empty dishes toward the center of the table, clearing a space in front of himself. He placed the cracked egg on the table. While he peeled it, Ictis nosed around his hand, climbing up on the table top and circling.

"You can't have it yet. You have to earn this one." He chuckled.

Ictis tried shoving his nose between Theron's fingers, chittering with annoyance when he couldn't get to his treat.

"I think I have his attention now." Theron glanced at a puzzled Andreas. At least he no longer appeared uncomfortable.

Closing his hand around the egg, Theron lifted it above Ictis' head. "Stand," Theron commanded. The ferret stood on his back feet and stretched his forelegs up to rest on his fist.

He raised a brow and shared a pleased glance with Andreas. "Good boy." Theron wondered who he was praising as he relaxed his hand. Ictis tore a bite from the egg, and still standing with his paws on Theron's fist, chewed happily.

When Ictis attempted to take another bite, Theron moved his hand and said, "Walk." With his paws still on Theron, Ictis took a partial step forward. Theron rewarded him with some more egg. He repeated this until Ictis had "walked" across the cleared space and Andreas was chuckling just as happily as Ictis.

"Here. You've earned it." Theron opened his hand and held the remains of the egg as Ictis finished it.

"I didn't know he could do that." Andreas' eyes sparkled with delight. "I'll see if I can teach him some other tricks."

Theron stood. This part of the evening always came too soon. "I have to go. The moon will be rising soon and I have to be gone before then."

Andreas rose hurriedly. "So soon?"

"Selênê will not stay her path for the immortals. What hope have I?"

"Then at least take this." Andreas pressed the last of the rabbit wrapped in flatbread into his hand.

At the door, Andreas grasped his forearm and pulled him into a brief, one-armed embrace and thumped him on the back. Andreas released him and stepped away so quickly it was over before Theron could respond.

"I'll… uh… see you soon?"

"Every chance I get."

Theron slipped through the door, letting it close silently behind him. He made his way swiftly back into the sheltering cover of the forest.

Nothing can keep me away.

Body Language Is Free on Smashwords

Body Language takes place in Lydia—a kingdom in Asia Minor (now part of modern Turkey) that was conquered by Cyrus the Great during the 6th century BC and became part of the Persian Empire.

Years later, Lykos, the son of the king of the Thracian city-state, Aenus, is travelling incognito through the conquered province. To avoid arousing questions as to why he is there, he is only accompanied by the Persian, Narses, a friend of his father. Hearing cries for help, the two men intervene. They are too late to save a merchant and his slave, but they arrive in time to prevent bandits slaying the third member of the party.

Kas recently lost his family and was grateful to be travelling under the protection of Tahmasp. Now the merchant is dead, his future is once more under threat. He would like nothing better than to remain with the handsome warrior, but how can he explain that to a man who speaks little but Greek?

A Spartan Love Blog Tour

Be sure to stop at every blog as they each have a different excerpt from the book. Plus comment to enter the raffle for an ARe Gift Certificate.

1-Dec                    Hearts on Fire

1-Dec                    PrismBook Alliance

2-Dec                    WickedFaerie's Tales and Reviews

2-Dec                    TheHat Party

2-Dec                    ScatteredThoughts & Rogue Words

2-Dec                    3 Chicks After Dark

3-Dec                    LoveBytes

3-Dec                    BFDBook Blog

4-Dec                    MMGood Book Reviews

4-Dec                    Elisa- My Reviews and Ramblings

5-Dec                    RegularGuys, Hot Romance

5-Dec                    FallenAngel Reviews

6-Dec                    Parker Williams

7-Dec                    AmandaC. Stone

8-Dec                    MyFiction Nook

9-Dec                    WakeUp Your Wild Side

9-Dec                    BookReviews, Rants, and Raves

10-Dec                  Crystal’s Many Reviewers

10-Dec                  FangirlMoments and My Two Cents

11-Dec                  theTwins: Talon ps & Princess so

11-Dec                  InkedRainbow Reads

12-Dec                  CateAshwood

12-Dec                  MollyLolly

Dreamspinner Press Author Page and Preorder Links