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Wednesday, July 6, 2011

INTERVIEW WITH A SLAVE

“I’ve interviewed Mr. Whelan before. It’s no big deal.” Angie’s my assistant and there are times when she’s downright annoying. She fiddled with the microphone at my chest and I slapped her hand away. “Stop! Didn’t you hear me?” I repeatedly tapped her fingers until she finally stood back with the expression of a doting mother. “Honestly, you are ridiculous.”
“It’s my job. You’re quite bitchy today.”
Angie smoothed out my lapels to make sure I looked my best.
 “Nerves, I guess.”
“But you just said it’s no big deal, you’ve interviewed the man before.”
“I did. It was for that Cocktails Magazine article.”
“I remember. So, what’s the problem?”
“The slave…” My voiced trailed off to a peep.
The bounty hunter was seated along with the slave at the table, and the technician was conducting a sound check for their microphones.
“What was that?” asked Angie.
“The slave is here.” I quickly turned the other direction, cleared my throat and examined the papers quivering in my hand.
Angie peeked over my shoulder. “He is.” She looked at me whispering, “Why are you so pale?”
“The last time I interviewed Mr. Whelan I had to run home and take a cold shower.” The words cut through my teeth, “How can I interview a guy when my nipples are hard and his lover is dissecting me!”
“You silly woman!” Angie laughed, covering her mouth then playfully nudged my arm. “Just picture him in his underwear. I’ve heard that helps.”
“If I pictured that man doing anything partly naked, I’m liable to have an orgasm during the show.”
“Oh not Mr. Whelan! I meant the slave–since you’re not attracted to him.”
“Great advice.” I glared, but my attention soon reverted when the director shouted for everyone to take his or her place. The show was about to begin. Mr. Whelan smiled as I pulled the chair in tight to the table across from him.
“Good evening, doll.”
That crooked smirk bent his lips and I caught myself staring. I wish he’d kiss me, just once. “Good evening Mr. Whelan, it’s so nice to see you again.” We shook hands then I greeted the slave. “Mr. Draconius, it’s a pleasure.”
“Please call me, Vale.”
His voice rode at a moderately low decibel and not near as deep as the bounty hunters.
“Sure, Vale then.” I straightened my posture.
The director gave the signal. The feed would go live in seconds.
“Good evening, this is Cindy Hughes, and welcome to eBooks Live. Today I have two very special guests, Mr. Whelan and Mr. Draconius–main characters of the newly released ebook Master of Illusion by author, Blak Rayne. Thank you both for joining me. To bring our audience up to speed, Mr. Whelan did a guest spot back in March and though he's here today, his presence is more for support. The real man of the hour is our other guest, Mr. Vale Draconius.” I glanced over my notes then continued. “Personal history really helps create interest, Vale. Can you give our listeners a brief rundown of who you are and what it is you do?”
“I’m a slave, but my life didn’t start off that way…”
He took a moment, seemingly to gather his thoughts.
“How did it start?” I asked.
“I was born in the Euro Bloc to teenage parents. We were very poor and struggled to live…”
Evidently the slave was nervous because he focused on the bounty hunter, refusing to look at me.
“Did you have any sisters or brothers?”
“Not that I remember. When I turned fourteen, my parents sold me to a slave marketer and I lived with him until I was shipped to the NAC Bloc. They needed the money.”
“Excuse me…” This tidbit of information was slightly horrific and I’m positive it came out in my voice. “You were sold into slavery–is that correct?”
“Yes doll,” the bounty hunter interjected. “In our world slavery is commonplace.”
“I see, but what constitutes a slave?”
“The colour of my hair,” answered Vale.
“That is weird. Please continue with your story, Vale.”
“The marketer was much older and a tattoo artist. People paid him to paint their bodies. His interest in me was personal from the start…” The slave paused to rub his hands. “He said, I was too beautiful to sell…so I stayed with him for six months.
“You mean he took a sexual interest.”
“He was my first partner, yes. He taught me many things…how to dance and he tattooed my spine. He said, I possessed the eyes of a dragon and the tattoo was a gift because he loved me.”
It was impromptu, but I wanted to see that tattoo. “Do you mind showing me? Unless you don’t feel comfortable Vale, that’s fine.”
The bounty hunter gave the go-ahead. The slave stood up, grabbed either side of his t-shirt and lifted it to reveal a stunning tattoo of a dragon with purple eyes. Okay, I was impressed. The image was detailed, and ran, the length of his back from hairline to tailbone.
“That is beautiful. Thank you. After living with this man, where did you go?”
“I was sold to a master in the NAC Bloc. I was under contract to him for fourteen years. Then the abuse became too much to live with, and I escaped.”
“And I assume this was when you met, Mr. Whelan?”
He didn’t answer immediately and passed the bounty hunter a shy smile. The affection between the two men was strong though subtle, and intriguing.
“Vale’s master hired me to find him. The job was routine, but the situation wasn’t.” Sloan chewed and the scent of spearmint wafted through the air.
“Very interesting…” My mind wandered briefly then I snapped back. It was the bounty hunter. He distracted me. “I’d like to take a few moments to discuss the book. Vale, this question is for you. How do you feel about the graphic sex?”
“I’m not crazy about it, but the author felt it was necessary to set the tone for the book.”
“The sex scenes that do involve your character are with men. Did you find this difficult to portray?” The questions did probe, but I’d pushed my luck this far.
“Not at all!” Vale quietly laughed. “I am gay–I mean, Blak wrote my character’s sexual preference that way on purpose.”
“Ahh then no problem.”
“Nope. I love men.”
I cleared my throat and glanced at the director, waiting for him to cut the show. “Excellent–and you do have good taste!” Sloan chuckled and I swear my cheeks went pink. That was a dumbass thing to say. “I’d like your personal opinion, Vale. Did you like Master of Illusion?”
“Yes, very much.” He fiddled with his braid. “The plot is well thought out and the characters are great–once you get to know us.”
“Before we say goodnight, can you tell our audience where they can find Ms. Rayne’s novels?”
“Master of Illusion is published with eXtasy Books and it was out June fifteenth…” He hesitated then asked Sloan to verify. “Did I give her the right date?”
“Yeah babe, June fifteenth.”
“Well, thank you so much for joining us today, Mr. Draconius and Mr. Whelan. And, thank you to everyone for listening. This is Cindy Hughes, from eBooks Live, saying goodnight!”

Purchase Link:


Master of Illusion

( Blak Rayne ) 

ISBN: 978-1-55487-906-9
Series: # 1 in series: Benevolence
Cover Artist: Martine Jardin
Heat Level: 5 Flames
Word Length: 97761
Number of Pages: 338
Categories: Recent ReleasesFuturisticGLBTSuspenseNew Releases
Release Date: June 15, 2011
Available in: Adobe Acrobat (PDF), Palm DOC/iSolo (PDB), Microsoft Reader (LIT), Sony PDF, Sony LRF, Hiebook (KML), Html, Mobipocket (PRC), Rocket (RB), Epub (EPUB)




Blurb
Something evil lurks in the streets of Avalon. From the spread of an illicit drug called Ice to the black market slave trade. The year is twenty-three thirty, nearly two decades after WWIV and the world, as we know it, is a very different place. Under the rule of one government and a questionable military, no one is safe. Laws are convenient for those who legally prey on the weak.
Forced into slavery, one man seeks freedom. Obligated to his profession, the other seeks justice. Exploitation, human trafficking and drugs—brought together by corruption and fate, a bounty hunter meets a slave and their lives are forever changed.



Excerpt
“All right, since I’ve screwed up royally, let’s start from the beginning. I’ll need all the information I can gather to save my hide—if I end up in court. How old are you?”
Vale followed him into the kitchen. “Twenty-eight.”
Sloan paused before pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Shit…” he mumbled, then without looking, held out a second mug of the steaming black liquid. “Come on, take it.”
“Thank you.” Vale held the mug in both hands blowing on it.
“You’re pretty young.” Sloan took a sip of the coffee, then collapsed in an armchair on the other side of the living room. “Too young to be hanging around me.”
“I’m not that young.” Vale sat on the ottoman across from him. “How old are you?”
Sloan didn’t want to frighten the guy off, he’d grown accustomed to having him around, but at the end of the day there was no use in lying, so he was blunt. “I just turned thirty-seven and I’m considered a dinosaur in this business.” He smirked, glancing in the slave’s direction. “I figure once I get you home, I’m done—you know, retired. There are lots of younger more able bodied guys, who are in far less pain than me, that are willing to do my job and charge less.”

* * * *

Vale carefully shifted closer—as close as he dared. His heart was banging out of control and he couldn’t stop staring. In spite of what others said, the hunter was extremely good-looking in his own way. Vale didn’t fully understand the attraction, but he couldn’t seem to refute it either. He’d never felt this way about anyone. He wanted them to make love. “You aren’t old, you’re unbelievable.”

* * * *

“Flattery. Nice try.” Sloan wore a crooked smile at first, then frowned as the slave knelt between his legs and put a hand on his stomach. His dark eyes were dead and they switched their focus to Vale’s violet ones. The slave brought him to a craving he was finding increasingly difficult to ignore, his lips were supple and tenderly youthful, his features exquisite. Sloan wanted that golden hair to shower his naked flesh and he pictured Vale sucking his cock.
The slave cautiously pulled Sloan’s shirt loose from under the waistline of his jeans. His slender fingers rippled over the hunter’s washboard abs underneath. The young man bent forward, lifted the shirt and planted a few gentle kisses. His breathing was hot and felt good against Sloan’s skin—too good, he was afraid of what he’d do if the kissing didn’t stop. He clamped a very large and powerful hand over the slave’s wrist and flipped him out onto the floor, snarling, “Don’t you ever touch me again!”


Thanks for reading, sweeties! I've also posted a movie review @ IRM, something I've been meaning to do for months. I hope you enjoy! http://rainingmenamen.blogspot.com/
Author Lily Sawyer is here on June 8! Can't wait! ^_^!! Next week I'll be posting interviews with Lil Munro and GA Hauser plus others. Have a great day and make sure to enjoy the awesome weather we're having.
Happy Yaoi Hunting!
Blak Rayne ^_^!!

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