Book spotlight and excerpt: Roman Equestrian I: Venator by A. M. Swink

 

Britannia, AD 59. Decimus is a long-serving senior centurion who dreams of retirement in Rome. Luciana is a Cornovii princess devoted to the freedom and survival of her tribe. Connected only by a passion for horsemanship, the pair could not be more ill-matched. After a deadly conflict thrusts these enemies together, each is determined to fight their desires and triumph over the other. Who will ultimately control the other’s heart?

But Decimus and Luciana are not the only ones on the hunt for supremacy; a desperate struggle over the province is beginning to simmer to a boil. There are whispers of mysterious Druids fomenting unrest among the western British tribes, whose inter-tribal divisions threaten to subsume them. The future of the Roman legions in the province is suddenly thrown into doubt as casualties begin to mount. Decimus and Luciana find themselves entangled within a web of characters, Briton and Roman, playing with Britannia’s destiny to serve their own ends.

The hunt for power is on, where only one side can emerge triumphant. But just who among these hunters will end up hunted?

 

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Excerpt

‘I’m well aware of how your kind treat prisoners, Princess. You’d be wise to remember you are one yourself.’

‘How dare you?!’ Her bright green eyes flashed menacingly. ‘I’m far more valuable than any token prisoner! Tell your men to unhand me at once!’

‘I have already granted you an audience.’ Decimus set his jaw, staring back at her coldly. ‘If you do not state your reasons forthwith, I will have you removed.’

‘Not until these soldiers release me.’

He huffed, frowning down into her eyes. They had, much to his irritation, captivated him again; he was helpless to break their gaze. ‘You have already killed before. If given half a chance, you’ll probably do so again.’

‘Sir, my wrists are bound and the door is guarded.’ She panted, trying to soften her expression. ‘I couldn’t attempt anything even if I’d wanted to.’

His gaze trailed down to her heaving bosom. The outline of her small, shapely breasts was just visible beneath her filthy blue gown. Heat flushed into her cheeks under his stern, intense inspection; her lips suddenly began to quiver.

‘Let her go,’ his voice commanded crisply.

The legionaries reluctantly relinquished their hold on her arms and hair. They stood, hovering before the centurion hesitantly.

‘Wait outside. Tullius will be here to observe her.’ Decimus waved the men away and bent down to begin unlacing his tall leather boots. He waited until the legionaries had squeezed past Tullius to stand in the narrow hall before he spoke: ‘Now, perhaps Your Grace will be so kind as to tell me what this is all about?’

She collected herself and sat up straight. ‘I’ve come to offer you my services.’

‘Services?’ He withdrew his foot from his boot and eyed her warily. ‘What sort of services?’

‘The man who tried to steal Father’s torc – he was your attendant, was he not?’ She glanced around at the debris and abandoned scrolls scattered across the floor. ‘It would appear you’re in need of another one. And, as I’m the responsible party, it’s only fair I should offer myself as a replacement.’

The centurion’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why would Your Grace want to become my slave?’

‘Luciana,’ she breathed, maintaining eye contact. ‘My name is Luciana.’

‘A Latin-speaking Briton with a Latin name?’ He frowned quizzically.

‘If you’ll recall, my father did try to assimilate us.’ She shook her head. ‘You may use me as an interpreter. Surely, that makes me valuable to you.’

‘I have no need for a cultured slave.’ He rested his chin on one palm. He drummed the fingers of his other hand against his knee in contemplation. The thought of Aquila, standing in his stall and in desperate need of a thorough rubdown, suddenly sprang to mind. ‘How are you with horses…Luciana?’

A smile spread across her lips. ‘I am an excellent horsewoman, sir. My family bred and raised some of the best horses on the island, better than the Iceni. I’m well-versed in their care and temperament.’

‘Hmm.’ He thought for a moment longer, weighing up the notion, then decisively shook his head. ‘It wouldn’t work. The army is no place for a woman slave.’

‘You insult me as a warrior!’ She snapped angrily. ‘I am not so fine that I cannot raise or strike your silly tents or use your stinking latrines! Besides,’ she softened her expression, lowering her head towards the floor. ‘As a woman, I can offer you…other services.’

Decimus inhaled sharply as she wrapped her lips around his naked toe. Her tongue slowly caressed his hard, calloused skin. The gentle warmth radiating from her touch set his nerves alight. He closed his eyes, feeling his throat constrict. As the sensation travelled up his leg, his foot violently began to tremble. With a concerted growl, he wrenched his foot away, kicking her aside.

Luciana fell onto her elbow. She panted as the warm taste of her blood begin to fill her mouth. She held his gaze, eyes glittering. His noble, handsome face scowled back at her, remote and picturesque. A Roman’s face. But something about his icy eyes seemed to betray him. What she saw roiling within them made her curl her back and lick her lips in satisfaction.

Decimus gazed at her, frozen, for an interminable moment. She was no replacement for Cato; she was a viper. He knew she would devour him if given the opportunity. But shockwaves were still pulsing up the leg he slowly placed back on the floor. The urge he’d thought he’d finally outgrown rekindled in his loins with a youthful fervour. She, who had set his every nerve alight, was willingly offering herself to him. He wanted, nay, needed to possess her.

‘Tullius,’ he said in a surprisingly calm, even tone, ‘go to the quartermaster and have him withhold five hundred denarii from my pay. Let it be noted for the purchase of one slave from the legion’s collection. And dismiss the guards; the princess will be staying with me.’

A native of Dayton, Ohio, A.M. Swink grew up obsessed with two things: books and horses. After a childhood of reading, writing, showing, and riding, she moved to Lexington, Kentucky to complete a degree in equine science and management and a degree in English literary studies. She now works in Lexington as a college professor of reading and writing. In her spare time, she has travelled extensively around the UK and Ireland, exploring ancient sites and artefacts, as well as tracing her own ancestry. She is proud to be descended from County Cork’s Callaghan clan.

When not writing, she can be found collecting and showing model horses or enjoying her favourite British comedy programmes.

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