Page 20 of Nightcrawler
“Yeah, come on. Let me get you back in bed and then I’ll get you some.” We walked back into the front room, and I spotted Stanley, once again curled up in the same spot in the middle of the bed.
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.
“What’s so funny?” He grunted as we walked.
“I just moved him out of that spot a minute ago. Hang on.” I helped him to the bed and waited until he was sitting on the edge of it before grabbing the kitten. Stanley protested but I ignored him, putting him on my chair, and then coming back to Raven. “Let me grab that T-shirt for you.” I helped him pull it over his head. “Come on. Let’s get you comfortable and then I’ll get those meds.”
“Jesus, I feel terrible that you have to nurse me like this,” he said as I repositioned him, fluffing pillows behind him so he could lean back.
I grunted. “I’m worried if you don’t have anyone at home to take care of you,” I said, shaking a couple of pills out into my hand. “You said you weren’t married. Girlfriend?” I knew better but I couldn’t help but want to dig for more information.
“No girlfriend, Trigg,” Raven said, taking the edge of the quilt I was pulling up over him. “I’m gay, but I guess you know that.”
“How would I know that?” I asked, busying myself with opening the second pill bottle.
He reached out and caught my hand, stopping my actions. I looked up and met his dancing gaze. “By how you reacted there, in the bathroom.”
“I didn’t—”
“Come here.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me until I was leaning over him. “Closer.”
“Raven.”
“Are you going to make me beg for it?”
“For what?”
His cobalt blue eyes danced. “A kiss, you idiot.”
I smirked…a second before I leaned all the way down…and kissed him.
Chapter Eight
RAVEN
Book title: How to Train Your Flagon
Author: Constance Browning
Publisher: Self-published
Genre: Erotic romance/Historical fantasy
Review/rating by Nightcrawler: <2 stars
Synopsis:
Set in eleventh century Normandy, this historical erotic romance takes place almost immediately after William the Conqueror and his Norman invaders have beaten Harold Godwinson at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Standing beside him in glory is the book’s hero, Sir Wulfgar, whose knights ransack the English countryside and capture the beautiful maiden, Sylvanna, with the help of his enchanted jewel-encrusted flagon of wine. Their love story is one born of blood and sacrifice and becomes one of the strongholds of the New World order with the help of the more than twenty-five sons he begets on her.
My Review:
Dear Lord, let the woman rest.
Though the synopsis of the book made me anxious to grab this title from a first time Indie author, by the end of it, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and rock back and forth with my thumb in my mouth. Normally, I’d admit to being a little bit of a sucker for historical romance. But when you throw in an enchanted flagon which miraculously seems to cause some sort of transformation in poor Sylvanna’s lady-parts, allowing her to conceive each time the relentless Wulfgar inserts it prior to their coupling, how could I have resisted? I will state here that I wish I had…oh how I wish I had.
Sylvanna is a maiden when her father, an English lord, is slaughtered by Wulfgar, claiming a keep and lands awarded to him by William the Bastard. But her virginity is stolen after a drunken Wulfgar bursts into her chamber holding his enchanted flagon. He throws her down on the bed and ravages the beautiful raven-haired girl and they—the flagon and him—have their way with her. She is impregnated that very night and so begins a thirty-odd-year odyssey of having sons. She never has daughters with this dude but that’s probably a good thing with a horny flagon lying around.
After every birth, she is assisted by a wizard who teaches Sylvanna how to turn the flagon on Wulfgar himself. This is where thingsstartto get really messy. One night, after Wulfgar and his instrument of fertility have done their magic with her, he falls into a drunken sleep. Sylvanna tests her newfound hold over the flagon and inserts it into his anus, impregnating the knight who immediately begins having ass babies.