THE CHOICE: My King or My Knight?
[COMPLETE] When Zara walked in on her boyfriend sleeping with another woman, she cursed God for the lack of good men in this miserable, modern world. Then she woke up in a romantic land of honorable Knights and the Royal Court. There, Zara is stunned to find herself one of eighteen women called The Select, from which the handsome, powerful King will choose his bride. She finds the magnetic King compelling. But her dashing Knight Defender has declared his love—and vows to save her from certain death: Tradition requires every woman in the Select who is not the King’s chosen bride to be executed to cover her family’s shame. Yet, the King is also making his intention to win Zara clear. None of this would matter if it was just a dream. But Zara is soon forced to accept that this is no fantasy. Which means each man—and his love—is real. And this world is a deadly nightmare. As the tension between the two men grows, Zara must make a choice. But how can a woman choose between a powerful King and a deadly Knight? Especially when either would kill to keep her? Are you #TeamKing or #TeamKnight? COVER IMAGE: Copyright (c) 2023 Author AimeeLynn
A Little Honesty
David grimaced and shook his head and for a second I thought he was going to back away, but then he leaned in again, rasping through his teeth as if his own words angered him.
"When you walk I watch your hips swing. I remember grasping them, and I wonder how they will look when I have you naked and lay between them. I think about how I ache at night to feel the softness of your ass in my hands, to lift you up and wrap your legs around my waist and—you turn my mind and my body until I burn. Do you know what it is to burn, Zara? You are flame in my blood, in my head—in my body! You consume me.
"I am supposed to focus on others, on my duty, on decisions that could impact thousands, and my mind trips back to the sound that broke in your throat when I touched you, and the warmth of your skin. I am supposed to make pleasant and polite conversation with other women when all I can think of is how they smell wrong, or why don't they call me on my shit?