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eBook Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
eBook Description: Historical BDSM Romance! Despite the advances of farm hands, the drunken attempts of the local men, and a brief passionate kiss from a mysterious highwayman, proud, confident Cleste has never been touched or even stirred by a man. Then, one day while walking home from the village market, a black carriage swoops down and takes her captive. Soon Cleste finds herself slave to the dark desires of Lord Davien Blood, who rules the local area with an iron fist. Her beauty and innocence combined with her pride have aroused his dark desires. Davien has long enjoyed training women to become his obedient vassals. Under his harsh tutelage, she has but one choice, submit completely or face endless punishments and degradations. Stripped, nameless and reduced to a beast what other choice does she truly have but to obey?

eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/PageTurner, Published: 2006
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2006

This eBook is part of the following series:

• Terri Pray's Celeste's Captivity Series

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The basket was ready, the small pieces of lace hidden at the bottom under the simple piece of linen. She'd taken the time to dress up in her best boots, good dress, a delicate shawl she'd spent a week or more working on. Turning it from a basic wrap into something a woman of substance would have been proud to wear. The only thing she was missing was a bonnet, with long ribbons, like they wore in the few pictures she'd seen. Still, the wide black velvet ribbon tying her hair in a long tail at the nape of her neck worked just as well. So few women wore their hair this way now, but with so few options, Celeste had taken what she had to work with and turned it into an elegant statement.

Or so she hoped.

She'd pass muster from the village women, and hopefully catch sight of the one man who had left her breathless.

Bah, she wouldn't know him if she walked right into him in the middle of the market square. How could she? The one and only time she'd met him he'd been wearing that mask.

Yet she could remember every small detail about that terrifying encounter. The dark glint in his eyes, the smell of leather and steel that had lingered on his clothing, the feel of his hands clutching her by the arms as he'd pulled her against his chest, lips crushing down on hers with a passionate, desperate need.

Her thighs clenched, a soft jolt working through her hips, heat washing over her body at the memory of the Raven. There was something about him she hadn't been able to forget, not even in the two years since he'd stolen that kiss from her, a strength of will, his insistence they'd never catch him, the whispered promise of more than a single kiss if they should ever meet again.

They'd catch him one day, hang him. The English did that. But outlaw, highwayman or not, he was Irish and for that and the kiss she loved him.

Love, what did she know of such a thing? They were nothing more than the foolish dreams of a young untried maid.

"Where are you going?" Her father called out from the cellar, his voice breaking through her thoughts. "There's work to do. You're always dashing off, trying to avoid work."

Work. There was always work to do--and the last thing she did was avoid the household chores. If her sister had the guts to get off her ass and tend to some of the chores herself, then maybe, just maybe their father wouldn't load all the work on her shoulders. "I'm heading to the village, father. We need some supplies, and I've got a few things to trade with them." Lace work for the most part, but it would be enough to earn a few pennies.

"Then don't be too long, you've got chores to see to here." He walked back into the kitchen, wiping off his hands. "We've got to make sure your sister has enough money for her trip to London. I'm not going to shame the family by sending her off without a proper trousseau. I'll not have those English fools thinking we're scum."

Celeste bit into her bottom lip. London. Why would anyone want to go there? Be amongst all those English men. Hadn't they taken enough from Ireland? Lands, farms, people, now the young men and women called either to serve in the King's army or to become servants to the noble born of England.

How many of her age mates had hurried across the water, seeking opportunity, marriage only to find themselves flat on their backs, whores for the use of any man tossing a coin their way?

Not that it would have mattered to her if that happened to her sister. The woman was a slut of the worst sort. Since her older sister had turned of age, Mystic had slept her way through every man who had so much had looked her way. Yet she could do no wrong. Every spare farthing the family had went toward fulfilling Mystic's whims. Now the trip to London? That money could have helped prepare the family for harder times which Celeste knew had to be just around the corner.

"Are you even listening to me girl?"

"Yes, Father. I'm just going over the list of things we need from the market. Was there anything you wanted me to try to find for you?"

"Tobacco," he growled, barely looking her way, though he shoved a small purse across the kitchen table. "Just a small amount girl, can't go wasting money on fripperies."

Unless they were for Mystic. "Yes, Father, I'll be back before dark."

"Be sure you are, supper won't wait for you."

It would though, unless she had it ready there wouldn't be a supper. Not since her mother had passed on had anyone else taken care of the meals. She doubted Mystic even knew how to set up the basics of a meal for the family. Clean hands, the best clothing, even that damn white pony. Oh she'd never been so glad as the day the beast had been taken by the Raven. Served the bitch right.

"Yes, Father, I'll be back as quickly as I can be." Another few years and she'd have enough money saved to leave. Mystic and her father hadn't found the small stash, of that she was sure. Common sense had led her to hide it well away from the farm house, nothing more than ten pounds so far, the work of close to five years savings, but with that sum she'd be able to find her way to Dublin and set herself up. At least to a limited degree, enough to find lodgings and work. With her skills with lace and cooking she'd be able to find a decent position in a good household. Better that then be traded off to some local stable hand, or end up as a whore for some English soldier.

She darted out of the farmhouse before her father could say anything else, hurrying toward the lane. An hour or more of walking and she'd be at the village. It was time away from the farm, the work and the constant reminders she was second best. One day soon, she'd vanish, then where would they be? Back to eating burned meals no doubt.

Or her father would be picked up by those beating the King's drum. It wouldn't be long before they returned, looking for more bodies to sign up to take the shillings. Wars. There would always be new wars for the English army, and that meant Irish men called to fight.

The warmth of the spring day enfolded her. Blossoms colored the trees, a welcoming sight she revealed in. The walk wouldn't be an easy one, but with the constant work of the farmhouse behind her Celestial Blue O'Byrne picked up her heels and almost ran the first half mile of the trip...