Time for a little shamless promo. Have you gotten it? Have you read it?
Why not?
BLURB:
And courtesan boot camp starts now.
When Shay lands on Elatia, she knows she has one shot to be
chosen as courtesan for a king and queen. Mess up—everything she was born to
be, all she’s trained her entire life to become—will be lost. The alternative
is unthinkable.
What a pampered priss.
Dayne’s first impression isn’t a good one, but he’s
determined to turn the spoiled beauty into the next royal courtesan at any
cost. As a Dominus, a master of all things sexual, he agrees to help a friend,
his sovereign, and promises to do nothing to compromise her future.
EXCERPT:
“Wakey, wakey,
princess.” Someone slapped her cheek.
“We’ll you’re not
an ornament for my transpod either. Get off. You’re drooling on my deck.”
Shay’s eyes
snapped open, and she found herself face to face with the mud slug again.
“Courtesans don’t drool.”
“You aren’t a
courtesan yet, cupcake, and what do you call that puddle on the deck?”
She turned and her
eyes widened. No, no, no. She’d
committed the unforgivable. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth and chin,
hopefully blocking the view of any spittle left on her face.
“Yup, Dayne’s
going to have fun with you. What street corner are they finding you girls on
these days?”
“They didn’t find
me. They bred me for…why am I explaining this to you?” She kept her hand over
her mouth, waiting for him to look away so she could take care of business.
He shrugged, dropped
her bag beside the transpod, and headed for the front entrance to a large
minnica spire.
She used her palm to wipe her chin and watched him go. “Hey, do I go in there?”
If he heard her,
he didn’t indicate that he had. He entered, leaving her to her own devices.
Okay, she wasn’t some helpless flower. She could make the introduction herself
and didn’t need Mr. Personality’s help.
Shay reached into her bag, retrieved a mirror, and checked her face and hair. All evidence of the mishap had been wiped away, and without smearing her makeup. At least something had gone well. Once satisfied, she climbed to her feet with as much grace as she could muster, smoothed the fabric down on her overdress, and grabbed her bag.
Sometime during the trip to her new home, her right ass cheek had gone to sleep. Combined with the missing heel, she hobbled like a crone. Not the most elegant example she wanted to put forward, but also not her fault. Too bad about the boots. The heels were hand-carved crystal, irreplaceable, and her favorite pair. If not for the fact she had to undress to reach the tops to unbuckle her boots, she’d have changed on the transpod.
She stopped in
front of the tall door and stared at it for several seconds before she found
her courage. Shay cleared her throat. “Open,” she spoke in her most commanding
tone. Stepping forward on instinct, she smacked face first into the hard
surface, which had failed to vaporize as expected.
Shay reached up
and rubbed the tip of her nose. What kind
of freaking planet is this?
She poked it and
cleared her throat. “Open.” The door didn’t move. Shay glanced around for a
button, or something, anything to activate the mechanism that opened it. Lever? Fuck. Nothing but a round thingy.
She bit her lip again. Certainly nothing as primitive as….
You have to turn the round thingy, honey. This
time Milos’s voice came through by brainwave, telepathy, or whatever he was
using to annoy the shit out of her.
“Stay out of my
head.”
Turn the knob. Open the door. It’s not
rocket science.
“I know rocket
science. I don’t need your instructions.”
“Of course you
don’t,” the voice in her head said again.
“You’re an
asshole!”
“Nice language.”
Shay lifted her
chin to look in the face of…dear gods. Dark hair, green eyes, strong jaw and
chin. The man standing in the doorway had looks that would melt a woman where
she stood. And she’d just called him an asshole, or he thought she did. Her
mouth dropped open.
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