Promo Monday - On the Warpath

Available now at Sugar and Spice Press
http://www.sugarnspicepress.com/
New Release: September 18, 2010

On the Warpath by Imari Jade
$3.99
http://www.sugarnspicepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=11&products_id=93&zenid=4o4cfc6fpro87cu01egfmmgka6

After the death of his best friend, Secret Service Agent, Hayden Mercier swore that he would never have a partner again, but before he could voice his opinion, his boss went behind his back and assigned him one. Not only was Agent Harris, bossy, arrogant, and a rookie, but he turned out to be a she with long willowy shapely legs, a body that filled out her uniform well, and a face so beautiful it made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. How could he protect the President of the United States when he’d have to worry about keeping every male in the agency away from his partner?

All Nevaeh Harris wanted to do was serve the country that she loved the best way she knew how. She felt honored to be assigned to a position to guard the President so early in her career. That was until she learned that her partner was Hayden Mercier, a renegade agent who had lost his partner in the line of duty. Well she was taught early in life that she couldn’t let anything stand in her way when it came to getting things done, and that included egotistical, chauvinistic handsome males who thought a woman’s place was in the kitchen. She’d do her job and do it well, even if it meant dragging him along with her.

Excerpt
Chapter One
“I don’t really think I need a new partner, Chief. I’ve been doing pretty well without one,” Hayden Mercier said to his boss, Dan Parker, late one afternoon in the parking lot outside the Secret Service building in Washington. Having a partner often caused too many problems, and when one died it fucked with his emotions.
Dan watched him with keen brown eyes that had seen a lot over thirty years. “It’s been two years, Hayden. Time to get over the guilt.”
“Aaron was my partner. I should have been there for him.”
“As great as you are, even you can’t be in two places at one time. Your job is to protect the President first, and all others next.”
Of course Hayden understood his job perfectly well, since he’d been doing it for the last ten years. That did not mean he liked choosing between the leader of the country and his best friend. Not having a partner meant never making that decision again.
“You’ll like Harris,” Dan said after giving him time to accept that the choice wasn’t his. “The two of you have a lot in common.”
Hayden doubted that. “Harris who? I don’t recall anyone in the agency by that name.”
Dan shifted his hands into the pocket of his navy blue pants. “Well, Harris is new to the Secret Service.”
Hayden raised a concerned eyebrow. “A rookie?”
Dan nodded. “Technically yes, but she’s…”
Hayden interrupted him. “She? A female rookie?” He started to pace. “This shit just keeps getting better. Not only are you trying to saddle me with a partner I know nothing about and don’t want, but you’re telling me that she’s a female rookie. Listen, I don’t have time to baby-sit, and skirts are nothing but trouble.”
Dan pulled his hands out of his pocket. “I never pictured you as a chauvinist, Hayden, and please don’t refer to the female agents as ‘skirts.’ They have just as much right to serve in the Service as any male. If they’re good enough to give birth to a president, they're good enough to guard and protect him.”
Hayden folded his arm and raised his chin defiantly. “Then you take her on as a partner.”
Dan shook his head. “Can’t. Starting next month I’m giving up the field for a desk job.”
“Huh?” Hayden relaxed his stance. “Are you sick? Are they forcing you to?”
“No, I’m not sick, but I am nearly sixty-two years old. It’s my decision. I’m getting too old to be running around, and I sure as hell don’t want to cause a death because my reflexes are slowing down. This kind of work is a young man’s or young woman’s game, and retirement is just around the corner for me.”
At thirty Hayden couldn’t fathom such a thing as retirement…maybe when he was the ripe old age of seventy…maybe.
A black Chevy SUV pulled into the parking lot and a female exited, dressed in a navy blue suit and a white blouse. Hayden looked her over from head to toe and back down to her legs, which were muscular and curvy wrapped in coffee-colored hose.
“Here’s Harris now,” Dan replied.
Hayden watched her approach, checking out every detail from her jet-black hair color to the way she walked in high-heeled black pumps. Everything about her spoke class and perfection. Not one long dark hair stood out of place. Finally he’d met someone as particular as he was about their appearance.
The young woman walked over to Dan and shook his hand. “Thank you for considering me for the job. I’ll try not to let you down.”
She had a deep and throaty voice. Man oh man, I’m dead. Hey, what job? Had everything been arranged before his boss had confronted him?
“Harris, I’d like to introduce you to your new partner, Hayden Mercier. Hayden, this is Agent Nevaeh Harris.”
Nevaeh? Native-American Indian and African-American mixture. Damn, she’s stunning.
Nevaeh extended her hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Agent Mercier. Agent Parker has told me so much about you.”
A Cajun accent like his too. Hayden shook her hand out of politeness. “He hasn’t told me anything about you. I only learned of your existence right before you drove up.”
Nevaeh smiled, revealing beautiful teeth and dimples. “Must have been a shock learning that your new partner is not only a rookie but a female too.”
“Add the fact that you’re also beautiful and Cajun, and you can see my dilemma. I’ll be keeping male agents off of you and forgetting to protect the President.” Damn, she has some seriously long lashes too.
Nevaeh didn’t blush. She just stood there staring blankly at him with those almond-shaped dark brown eyes.
“Let me guess. You don’t want a partner.”
“No, I don’t, but Dan knew it and still brought you here.”
“Tough,” Nevaeh replied. “Now you’re trapped between a rock and a hard place.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, at least you’re honest about it and not trying to be nice to spare my feelings.”
Hayden liked her bluntness. “I’m not that nice.”
“I thought Agent Parker was nuts when he suggested that I pair up with you too. You’re not exactly known for your friendless.”
Hayden balled his hands into fists. “You don’t know a thing about me, lady.”
Nevaeh nodded. “I’ve done my research on you, and please refrain from calling me ‘lady.’ The name is Agent Harris or Nevaeh, if and when we become friends.”
Dan stifled a laugh. “Told you the two of you have a lot in common. Must be something in the water in Louisiana.”
Hayden frowned. “Oil jokes not appreciated.” In April a major oil company’s ship exploded near his hometown and contaminated the water. Several lives were lost, and for months fishermen and shrimpers worried about their futures. “You from Louisiana too?”
“Lafayette,” she replied. “And you?”
“Plaquemine Parish.”
“See, the two of you are practically neighbors.”
Nevaeh shook her head. “That does not change the fact that he does not want a female as a partner.”
“I never said that. Your sex has nothing to do with it. I just prefer to work alone.”
“Most renegades do.”
The more she spoke the more he felt like taking her over his knees and paddling the hell out of her. This generation of young people was a bunch of smartasses. “I’m no renegade.”
“But you don’t do things exactly by the book.”
Hayden hovered over her. “Sometimes you need to deviate from the norm to get the job done.”
“I’ll remember that at your trial.” She turned her attention back to Dan. “I’ll take the job.”
“Over my dead body,” Hayden muttered. “I did not agree to take you on as a partner.”
“Since you don’t own or run Homeland Security, you don’t get a say so,” Nevaeh reminded him. “You’ll accept me as your partner and like it.”
The smug look on Dan’s face angered him. “Why don’t you say something?”
“What do you want me to say? It’s a free world, and she has opinions.”
“Damn skirt,” Hayden mumbled as he walked away from them. He’d be damned if he’d be bossed around by this arrogant woman. Under no circumstances would she be his partner. He didn’t care how beautiful she was, or how fine she was, or how horny she made him just standing there looking at her. Nevaeh Harris was not going to be his partner. He sighed. If he stayed around her all the time he’d keep a permanent erection, and the next thing he’d knew he’d do something stupid like try to fuck her.
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My Muse Has Returned

My muse came to visit me tonight while I was in Harrah’s Casino, which I thought was a stupid ass place for her to do so. I was suddenly hit with a revelation after sitting for hours watching my friend gamble her hard earned money away.
“Re-write the story”, my muse whispered into my ear.
Where the hell has she been and why did she come while I was in that god-forsaken place without a pen and pad? It’s Southern Decadence weekend in New Orleans. If you’re gay, a lesbian or bi this is the place to be this weekend. So there is no reason why my hot-blooded heterosexual ass needed to be involved in their fun. The only thing I could hope to achieve was to spot a couple that I could possibly use in my next M/M romance, but no such luck. The casino was overrun by geriatrics wasting their Social Security checks, drunks looking for the free drinks, and old men who for some reason seem to gravitate toward me when I’m there. Luckily they all kept their safe distance and left me alone.
I don’t like casinos but every once and a while I get suckered into stopping in there on the way home. The story is so long and complicated that I would not bore my fans with how I get trapped there. There is nothing for me to do but sit and watch a wheel go round and round while my friend ignores my pleas to take me home. I don’t think she’d respond if I keeled over and died. When you’re addicted, you’re addicted.
Anyway. I’ve been working on my latest WIP for nearly a month now and believe it or not I have written 309 handwritten pages. I think my muse was around when I created the premise but I think she snuck off on a vacation and put a fake muse in her place, thinking I wouldn’t know the difference. I’ve been suspecting that something was wrong with the story for a while. In fact, I spent about an hour talking to my son about it yesterday, boring the young man to death as writers often do non-writers or people who refuse to pick up a book. He’s a rapper and it surprised the heck out of me that I kept his attention that long. “My characters aren’t talking to me,” I told him. “They’re there moving around the pages but they aren’t saying anything.” I really began to notice that something was up when no one ended up in bed. Hmm, sixteen chapters and still no sex. This type of thing does not happen in erotic romance. Well, at least not in anything I have written.
“Okay tell me how to fix it”, I whispered back. I don’t think anyone was paying attention to me in the casino since most of them were half drunk.
“Take out some of those characters.”
I have to admit; I do have a lot of characters and had just introduced another in the last chapter. The story is set in Tokyo, Japan where there are millions of people. The problem is I think I included all of them in the first fifteen chapters. In the beginning I thought all of them were necessary but now I don’t think they are since some of them haven’t been heard from in ages while one of two the main characters have issues I’ve yet to address.
“The heroine is boring.”
I didn’t like that too much since I think she’s supposed to be me. The premise is to take a middle-aged woman and make her attracted to a man half her age. I had the obstacles written down but I think only one has appeared so far. The heroine starts off a goody-goody in the beginning but now she’s doing things way out the box. Okay, if she’s supposed to be me then she’s far from goody-goody. She would be more a border-line bad girl who has no problem expressing herself to the opposite sex. If two exceedingly handsome young men were vying for my attention the real me would not be hesitating the way this character has been doing.
“The other man in the story is better than the hero.”
I know this is true. I started falling for the other man the moment he opened his mouth, while the hero has trouble expressing his feelings and is afraid to make waves. Hmm, what to do? I know I could not have her going to bed with both of them. Or could I? Hell it’s my story. I can tell it any way I want to. No, it’s not a ménage, or is it? I think I should have worked out these questions long before chapter sixteen.
I’m pretty angry with my muse right about now because she left me hanging. I wonder if she went on a cruise or something, knowing that I’m afraid of the water and she wouldn’t be able to go if she’d told me about it.
“So what else is wrong with the story?”
“You have it set in Japan. Where the heck is the descriptive scenery? Your characters are inside of buildings. Get them outside.”
This is also true. Most of the scenes are written in a hotel or at a restaurant. Tokyo has wonderful historic places to see and visit. I guess I’ll be doing more research tomorrow.
“Your Japanese characters’ language sounds too American.”
“Yeah, I know. They’re so cool but the language is so wrong.” I don’t really think one of them would say, “I’ll kick your ass” or “Her body is banging.”
“So the only thing I had right is the title?”
“It will do,” my muse said sarcastically.
As you can tell that my muse has even bigger mental issues that I have.
“So the plan for tomorrow is to re-think this story and re-write it.”
“Exactly,” my muse said as she peeped over at the television to watch Family Guy.
“I need a perm and a haircut. You think I can get that done tomorrow.”
“Only after you began re-writing.”
I think my muse should have stayed missing for a while. The next thing I know she’ll have me multi-tasking novels again.

Promo - Pharaoh

PROMO
By: Imari Jade | Other books by Imari Jade
Categories: Erotic Romance, Historical, Interracial
Word Count: 49,782
Heat Level: SIZZLING
Published By: Siren-Bookstrand, Inc.
PHARAOH
[Siren Allure: Erotic Historical Romance, Interracial]
Newly-crowned Pharaoh Khai I is coerced by his Grand Vizier Azar to find a bride, but Khai has more important things to do, like practicing for his upcoming coronation. Azar and Khai’s mother, Queen Hathor, takes the matter out of his hands and secretly sends out private invitations to the young available princesses in the world to come and dance for the new Pharaoh’s hand in marriage.
Khai learns of the invitations after the dancers have performed for him, and he has to admit that there were some delightful candidates. But he considered none of them as beautiful as Princess Zuri of Nubia, who refused to dance for him. Azar considers the refusal an insult to the kingdom and an embarrassment to the new Pharaoh, so in order to save face, Khai orders Zuri to return to the palace and dance for him at his birthday party.
Headstrong and fiercely independent, Zuri Bassey did not want to dance for Khai, because she refuses to be put on display just to appease a man's ego. Her mother learns of the refusal and insists that Zuri fix what she has broken. Zuri has never disobeyed her mother before, so she returns to Egypt to dance for Khai. How did she know that she would turn on not only Khai, but every man in the room, except the former Vizier who was old enough to be her grandfather?
Azar has loved Princess Zuri since they were kids, but unfortunately Zuri hated his guts. So many years has passed since he’d seen her that he had no idea that she had grown into such a lovely young woman. Had he known, he would not have sent out those invitations. All it took was one steamy look from the beautiful African princess to make him lose his mind. He had to have her in his bed, no matter what the cost. Was one night with her worth breaking a friendship bond he and Khai shared for years?
A Siren Erotic Romance



ISBN: 1-60601-818-3
Price: $4.99


Publication Date : July 2010
Formats : PDF/HTML/LIT/PRC
Publisher : Siren Publishing www.sirenpublishing.com
Publisher's email : publishing.admin@gmail.com

URL to E-book: http://www.bookstrand.com/pharaoh

Promo - Lemon Kisses Anthology

PROMO
From “Lemon Yellow Anthology”
Phaze Books
Lemon Kisses contains four tales of love, lust and passion between beautiful men. Two friends explore their darkest fantasies. A young man becomes a hero and finds true love in the most unexpected way. A wealthy record executive risks everything for a pair of soft lips. And a group of models with an ancient secret join together to realize their power and defeat a deadly enemy.
Includes "Your Fantasy or Mine" by A. Steele, "Amorela Veritath" by Eon de Beaumont, "Bitter Fruit" by Imari Jade, and "The Daemon Within" by B.J. Franklin
Ebook - $5.99
http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Lemon+Kisses/exact_match=exact
Bitter Fruit - Excerpt
By Imari Jade
One
What was that sound? Takai listened. Angelic, soulful and bewitching all wrapped up into one. Looking around he spotted someone standing in the shadows along the wall outside of the restaurant he was about to enter. The song was coming from whoever it was. Takai stopped to listen. It was a lullaby. The words were familiar but he couldn’t put a name to it. The song drove him over. “Excuse me, what is the name of that song you’re singing?”
The person stepped into the light.
Takai gasped. It was a young man and he was beautiful. His facial bones were delicately carved. Long dark lashes swept down across his high cheekbones. Long black hair hung down like shining glass against his ivory complexion.
“Takeda. My mother used to sing it to me as a child.” The expression in his currant-black eyes seemed to plead for friendship, but his velvet-edge voice was strong and endearing.
Something worried Takai’s heart. Perhaps it was simply his uneasiness about the situation. Old fears and uncertainties reared their ugly heads. “Yes, I remember. My mother sang it to me too. Please continue.”
The young man seemed nervous at first. “I really should be getting back to work.” He pointed toward the restaurant’s door. “The boss will have my ass if I’m late from my break.”
“Just one more verse.” Why was it so important that he continue the song? He had hundreds of singers vying for their big break everyday.
“Okay.” He began the song, holding Takai transfixed until the end.
“Have you ever thought about performing professionally?”
“You mean like on stage?” He leaned against the wall again.
Takai nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed the card to the young man who accepted it and read over it quickly.
“Not really.”
“Would you like to?”
“I don’t know. I really need this job. I have rent to pay.”
“I can make you rich.”
The young man pushed away from the wall. He was barely out of puberty…probably twenty or twenty one, tall, but not muscular. “What would I have to do? Nothing filthy I hope.”
“What? No, just sing?”
“Is that all?”
Takai understood. He was so beautiful. Strange men probably hit on him everyday. “I didn’t mean to offend you. All you have to do is sing.”
He looked down at the card. “I’ll have to think about it.” He walked toward the restaurant’s door and Takai followed.
“The young man looked confused and perplexed.” I was on my way to dinner when I heard you.” He held the door open. “Take a couple of days to think it over.”
They stepped inside of the restaurant.
“By the way, what is your name?”
“Kin Watanabe.”
Takai extended his hand for a shake and Kin accepted. It was surprising soft, which meant he didn’t do dishes. “Nice to meet you Kin Watanabe. I hope to hear from you soon.”
****
Kin watched as one of the waiters escorted the man to his seat. He looked down at the card again barely making out the wording under the lowered lighting inside of the restaurant. “Takai Nakagawa, talent scout and music promoter.”
“What do you have there?”
Kin looked up. His boss Mister Satou stood before him inside the kitchen door.
“Nothing.” Kin tucked the card into his pants pocket.
Mr. Satou tossed an apron at Kin. “Then you better get back to work. Plenty guests arriving.”
Mr. Satou was a nice man but a little high-strung. He didn’t pay much but he did allow the waiters to eat in-between shifts and often sent food home with them. Kin walked into the kitchen and washed his hands. Several minutes later he exited the kitchen rolling a cart of plates and serving dishes. He looked around. Takai Nakagawa was gone. Probably got an important call of something, Kin mused as he served a table in his station.
****

Promo - In Love with a Dark Stranger

In Love With a Dark Stranger
By Imari Jade
Just Released by Midnight Showcase
http://www.midnightshowcase.com/midnight/DarkStranger.htm
Ebook - $6.49
Paperback - $12.65

Excerpt One
Chapter One
“Stop them,” someone shouted in broken English.
Bethany looked up just in time to see four men on horseback headed her way. Thinking quickly, she jumped backwards, upsetting a cartload of perfume, and narrowly escaping a group of children as they scurried out of the way. The first two horses, two magnificent beasts neared. Their riders were masked, making identification impossible. She, on the other hand, stood out like a sore thumb in her dark American made pantsuit, sunglasses, and a straw hat. Had it not been for the fact that she needed appropriate climate-friendly clothes, she wouldn’t be caught dead outside in such an outfit. She got up, apologizing to the vendor, just as the two horses approached. The rider on the first horse looked down on her as they rode by. For one fleeting moment, their eyes locked. He winked and then rode off with the other man, leaving behind a mob of angry shoppers, venders and two very slow police officers who gave up the chase.
“Damn bandits,” one of them said as he dismounted and came to her rescue. “Are you injured?” Their uniforms were a khaki colored tunic, pants, and cap. He lowered his gun and put it back in the belt holster. Like most of the men there, he wore a stylish beard and goatee.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, even though she didn’t know how much English he knew. Her Arabic was horrible.
“We are sorry for your inconvenience.”
His English was passable. “Thank you. Who were those men?”
“Common criminals. We have been chasing them for some time now. They rob the tombs of their treasures and sell them for profit.”
Bethany frowned. “Outrageous. I hope you catch them soon. I came all the way to Egypt to see those treasures they are pilfering.”
“Are you here on vacation?”
“No. I’m an archeologist. I’m here to participate in a dig near the Valley of the Kings.”
He smiled. “Welcome to Cairo. I hope you don’t let this incident spoil your visit.”
“Thank you, and no, it won’t.”
The other officer called to him. He bowed and mounted his horse. “Have a pleasant stay.”
Bethany bowed respectfully. “I will.” The two officers rode off, leaving her a bit perplexed about how to make restitution to the perfume vendor.
“It’s okay,” the woman said to her. “Nothing is broken.”
“Thank you. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
She smiled and waved Bethany on. “A wink from Al-Shar Khan would make me clumsy too.”
“Who is Al-Shar Khan?”
The woman fanned herself with her hand. “Al-Shar Khan is that big strapping fellow that almost ran you over, whose kisses are so passionate that they’ll sweep you off your feet.”
Bethany smirked. The woman sounded like she had firsthand knowledge of the cur, which Bethany doubted since the woman was probably old enough to be her mother. “Thank you,” she said after finally making a purchase. She waved goodbye and walked through the crowded streets of Wekala-Al-Balqa. There were people everywhere hawking their goods in a language completely foreign to her. She had only been in town a couple of days but she had fallen in love with the historical place. Like the United States, Egypt was a mix of cultures…Egyptians, Muslims, Berbers, Bedouins, Nubians, and an American here and there.
Talk about tourist attractions. They were everywhere from the pyramids to the desert. She was only supposed to be there a couple of months and would not get a chance to see it all. But if it was up to her she would never leave. “Kisses that would knock me off my feet,” she repeated as she sat down for a cool drink at a local café. The thought nearly made her swoon. To be kissed senseless by a man was what she always desired, but unfortunately, she never found anyone who cared enough to make her feel special. And Mark was the worse. Funny, it had been five months and the hurt was still deep. This trip to Egypt was meant to put him out of her mind forever. So, she planned to bury herself in her work until he was just a memory. Sudden feeling cool from the fruity orange drink, Bethany rose, grabbed her packages and decided to call an end to her shopping excursion. She had too many packages to walk back to the hotel with, so she did the next best thing…she hailed a taxi.
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New Release - In Love with a Dark Stranger

Available at:

Midnight Showcase Fiction

www.midnighshowcase.com/midnight/DarkStranger.htm

New Release - In Love with a Dark Stranger

Chapter One



“Stop them,” someone shouted in broken English.

Bethany looked up just in time to see four men on horseback headed her way. Thinking quickly, she jumped backwards, upsetting a cartload of perfume, and narrowly escaping a group of children as they scurried out of the way. The first two horses, two magnificent beasts neared. Their riders were masked, making identification impossible. She, on the other hand, stood out like a sore thumb in her dark American made pantsuit, sunglasses, and a straw hat. Had it not been for the fact that she needed appropriate climate-friendly clothes, she wouldn’t be caught dead outside in such an outfit. She got up, apologizing to the vendor, just as the two horses approached. The rider on the first horse looked down on her as they rode by. For one fleeting moment, their eyes locked. He winked and then rode off with the other man, leaving behind a mob of angry shoppers, venders and two very slow police officers who gave up the chase.

“Damn bandits,” one of them said as he dismounted and came to her rescue. “Are you injured?” Their uniforms were a khaki colored tunic, pants, and cap. He lowered his gun and put it back in the belt holster. Like most of the men there, he wore a stylish beard and goatee.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, even though she didn’t know how much English he knew. Her Arabic was horrible.

“We are sorry for your inconvenience.”

His English was passable. “Thank you. Who were those men?”

“Common criminals. We have been chasing them for some time now. They rob the tombs of their treasures and sell them for profit.”

Bethany frowned. “Outrageous. I hope you catch them soon. I came all the way to Egypt to see those treasures they are pilfering.”

“Are you here on vacation?”

“No. I’m an archeologist. I’m here to participate in a dig near the Valley of the Kings.”

He smiled. “Welcome to Cairo. I hope you don’t let this incident spoil your visit.”

“Thank you, and no, it won’t.”

The other officer called to him. He bowed and mounted his horse. “Have a pleasant stay.”

Bethany bowed respectfully. “I will.” The two officers rode off, leaving her a bit perplexed about how to make restitution to the perfume vendor.

“It’s okay,” the woman said to her. “Nothing is broken.”

“Thank you. I’m not usually so clumsy.”

She smiled and waved Bethany on. “A wink from Al-Shar Khan would make me clumsy too.”

“Who is Al-Shar Khan?”

The woman fanned herself with her hand. “Al-Shar Khan is that big strapping fellow that almost ran you over, whose kisses are so passionate that they’ll sweep you off your feet.”

Bethany smirked. The woman sounded like she had firsthand knowledge of the cur, which Bethany doubted since the woman was probably old enough to be her mother. “Thank you,” she said after finally making a purchase. She waved goodbye and walked through the crowded streets of Wekala-Al-Balqa. There were people everywhere hawking their goods in a language completely foreign to her. She had only been in town a couple of days but she had fallen in love with the historical place. Like the United States, Egypt was a mix of cultures…Egyptians, Muslims, Berbers, Bedouins, Nubians, and an American here and there.

Talk about tourist attractions. They were everywhere from the pyramids to the desert. She was only supposed to be there a couple of months and would not get a chance to see it all. But if it was up to her she would never leave. “Kisses that would knock me off my feet,” she repeated as she sat down for a cool drink at a local café. The thought nearly made her swoon. To be kissed senseless by a man was what she always desired, but unfortunately, she never found anyone who cared enough to make her feel special. And Mark was the worse. Funny, it had been five months and the hurt was still deep. This trip to Egypt was meant to put him out of her mind forever. So, she planned to bury herself in her work until he was just a memory. Sudden feeling cool from the fruity orange drink, Bethany rose, grabbed her packages and decided to call an end to her shopping excursion. She had too many packages to walk back to the hotel with, so she did the next best thing…she hailed a taxi.

* * * *

“Whew, that was close,” Jamaal Wadud Hatem said as he hopped off his horse. “Did we have to go through the bazaar? We could have run someone over.”

Al-Shar Khan dismounted and led his Arabian horse into a stall. “It couldn’t be helped. The police were on our asses like we’re a bunch of criminals.”

“Technically we were in an unauthorized cemetery.” Jamaal stabled his caramel colored horse in a stall next to Al-Shar’s deep chocolate colored stallion.

“We weren’t looting it.” He closed the stall and waited for Jamaal to join him.

“They think we were. In fact, it’s now common knowledge that they are looking for us.”

“Hence the disguises,” Al-Shar said as he opened a door and walked down the stairs that led to a hidden passageway below the ground. He lit a lantern and Jamaal followed him down, securing the door behind them. It was getting harder and harder for them to get to those in need. Like thieves in the night he and Jamaal searched the cemeteries looking for the poor and homeless and provided them with food and necessities of life. When not involved in humanitarian duties, they hunted the tombs for looters. Then there were the times when they had to meet with some unscrupulous characters to get much needed information. Today had been such an occasion. One of their paid informants had knowledge of two looters who were looking to trade some goods with him. This exchange of goods would cost a very high price, should he accept…even though it meant losing ten of his finest Arabian horses.

They came to the end of the tunnel. Al-Shar turned off the lantern and opened the door. Jamaal brought up the rear. They stepped inside a room brilliant with light.

“I better get going,” Jamaal replied with a yawn. “I’m tired and need something cold to drink.”

Al-Shar nodded. “We’ll meet back here at sunset.”

Jamaal left through another door, leaving him alone to think. He removed the keffiyeh from his head and thick black curly hair cascaded down his shoulders. He removed his fake beard and scratched at his own scraggly beard and mustache. “I need a shave and a bath before going to see the folks.” He removed the burnoose from around his shoulders, dropped it in the hamper, and headed toward his bedroom. Once there he removed the wig and took the dark contacts from his eyes.

He removed his tunic and stepped beneath the hot shower spray, turning around to let the drops massage his aching shoulders, back and behind. Make no mistake he loved horses but they weren’t the most comfortable ride in the world. Images of the American woman from the bazaar entered his mind as he rubbed the soap across his chest.

Al closed his eyes, conjuring up those blue eyes and coral-colored lips. He had been with many women since he reached puberty, but never an American. They were taboo, things to be watched and feared. Then why am I suddenly hardening in the nether regions?

He moved his hand down and soaped up his pubic area. His penis pointed upward toward his navel. Damn this overactive libido. Their eyes had only met for a moment but it was enough to spark an interest in him even though he knew that their paths would never cross again. He gripped his phallus in his free palm and slowly began to massage it. Unlike most men he was not ashamed to masturbate. He had discovered girls at an early age, but had been taught to respect them. But that did nothing for that achy feeling he experienced whenever around them. His virginity was taken by one of the women in his godfather’s harem and from there he never looked back. He found comfort and solitude in the arms of one woman after another since then. He sighed. But lately all he felt was emptiness after the act was over. Maybe there was such a thing as too much sex. He pressed his hand to the side of the shower stall and braced himself as he came.

“Ah,” he gasped as his body shuddered and released the rapid flow of semen. Looking down he watched as it swirled in the water and seeped down the drain. “What a waste.”