WriterJohnB
Member
My new novel, THE PRISONERS OF GENDER, will be released this Monday, Sept. 7. It’s at Eternal Press eBooks high quality reading and entertainment at an affordable price
There will be a “launch party” all day Monday at
EternalPressReaders : Eternal Press Readers
What’s it about?
A botched spell puts the princess in the soldier’s body.
He must rescue them both, though he’s now in a frail, petite frame.
She’s overcome with testosterone and wants to “try out the equipment.
He, however, is sworn to protect her virginity.
And the king is royally pissed off.
Here's an excerpt:
Curious now that they'd settled things, Bardak picked up his bowl of soup and slurped a goodly swallow, then picked up an entire slice of meat and meat and jammed it into his mouth. It was overcooked and a bit sour with age, but he'd eaten worse. As he chewed, he became aware of Janelle staring at him in horror.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Milady." The maidservant put her hand in front of her mouth, apparently not quite sure of herself. "I have never seen you act so. . . so hungry."
Crap, what was the matter with his thinking? Of course a princess would not gobble like a peasant. "It's been a long day," he muttered. From then on, he tried to eat with decorum, like he'd seen nobles do.
When they finished, night was falling. Janelle cleared away the mess. He thought to ask her to keep back a knife and then thought better of it. Volsar, although stupid, was not a complete fool and might be staging another test of the princess's loyalty. But Volsar probably didn't know about the smaller knives in the cutlery box, so all was not lost.
Then Janelle astounded him again, by producing a candelabra and lighting the tapers. "Would you like your sewing case, Milady? Perhaps you'd like to sew for a while?"
He grinned, thinking of his clumsy fingers trying to thread a needle. "Janelle, you are amazing. After a day like today, do you think we can go on as though nothing has happened?"
The girl looked at the floor. "No, Milady," she replied in a whisper.
"Stop acting that way. Pretend I'm not the princess anymore. Now, I suggest we both go to sleep."
"In here?" She looked about. "With you?"
"Yes. With me." That ought to end the discussion. But it did not.
Janelle nodded in agreement and said, "Yes'm. I'll prepare your bath."
"Let's just go to sleep."
"But, Milady." Again Janelle looked horrified. "Your dress is torn; your face is smudged and your skin is dirty. If I don't bathe you, you might begin to," she wrinkled her nose, "smell."
Godsblood, now what to do? He didn't want this woman to bathe him; he hardly knew her. She expected him to get naked? What to do? He was still befuddled with the sensations of being some other person, one not even of his own gender. But what would Princess Marissa do? Would she be as calm and matter of fact about being kidnapped as her maidservant appeared to be? Well, he remembered, one thing he'd noticed about her, her appearance and costume had always been perfect.
"Perhaps you're right. A bath might help calm my nerves." He'd heard women saying things like that; they seemed to actually enjoy bathing.
Once again Janelle erupted into a flurry of activity. The table and chairs disappeared and were replaced by a stack of folded clothing, a basin, cloths, towels, brushes and several implements he'd never seen before.
He stood watching with wonder and didn't think much about it when Janelle went behind him – until she began unlacing his bodice. He gulped.
Suddenly a feeling of freedom came over him, and he became aware how tightly he'd been strapped in. Two breasts dropped slightly to rest against his chest. Then Janelle whipped the bodice away. He looked down. It wasn't just the odd perspective of looking down at two mounds on his own body that made him gasp, it was the sheer perfection of Princess Marissa's breasts, despite the pressure lines where the bodice had been cutting in. Not overly large, they were just the right size for his hands – at least the ones he'd formerly had – he thought and then was instantly ashamed of himself for thinking of those rough, soldier's hands on the flesh of a princess. And now he realized he was blushing, for the second time.
Janelle had him step out of the princess's shoes and then began removing skirt, petticoat and undergarments. Her touch was impersonal, but still soft and gentle.
Soon he stood naked – as a woman. He refused himself permission to look down; he couldn't demean the princess by gazing at her with the eyes of a woman but the lust of a man. And then he thought those feminine eyes might drop out of his head as Janelle took off her own bodice, apparently to avoid wetting it because she stooped down to pick up the water skin and to wet a cloth in the basin. Her full breasts hung down just slightly, larger than those of Princess Marissa, undulating with her movements. He didn't hesitate to look. Janelle certainly wasn't off limits for a captain of the guards.
There will be a “launch party” all day Monday at
EternalPressReaders : Eternal Press Readers
What’s it about?
A botched spell puts the princess in the soldier’s body.
He must rescue them both, though he’s now in a frail, petite frame.
She’s overcome with testosterone and wants to “try out the equipment.
He, however, is sworn to protect her virginity.
And the king is royally pissed off.
Here's an excerpt:
Curious now that they'd settled things, Bardak picked up his bowl of soup and slurped a goodly swallow, then picked up an entire slice of meat and meat and jammed it into his mouth. It was overcooked and a bit sour with age, but he'd eaten worse. As he chewed, he became aware of Janelle staring at him in horror.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Milady." The maidservant put her hand in front of her mouth, apparently not quite sure of herself. "I have never seen you act so. . . so hungry."
Crap, what was the matter with his thinking? Of course a princess would not gobble like a peasant. "It's been a long day," he muttered. From then on, he tried to eat with decorum, like he'd seen nobles do.
When they finished, night was falling. Janelle cleared away the mess. He thought to ask her to keep back a knife and then thought better of it. Volsar, although stupid, was not a complete fool and might be staging another test of the princess's loyalty. But Volsar probably didn't know about the smaller knives in the cutlery box, so all was not lost.
Then Janelle astounded him again, by producing a candelabra and lighting the tapers. "Would you like your sewing case, Milady? Perhaps you'd like to sew for a while?"
He grinned, thinking of his clumsy fingers trying to thread a needle. "Janelle, you are amazing. After a day like today, do you think we can go on as though nothing has happened?"
The girl looked at the floor. "No, Milady," she replied in a whisper.
"Stop acting that way. Pretend I'm not the princess anymore. Now, I suggest we both go to sleep."
"In here?" She looked about. "With you?"
"Yes. With me." That ought to end the discussion. But it did not.
Janelle nodded in agreement and said, "Yes'm. I'll prepare your bath."
"Let's just go to sleep."
"But, Milady." Again Janelle looked horrified. "Your dress is torn; your face is smudged and your skin is dirty. If I don't bathe you, you might begin to," she wrinkled her nose, "smell."
Godsblood, now what to do? He didn't want this woman to bathe him; he hardly knew her. She expected him to get naked? What to do? He was still befuddled with the sensations of being some other person, one not even of his own gender. But what would Princess Marissa do? Would she be as calm and matter of fact about being kidnapped as her maidservant appeared to be? Well, he remembered, one thing he'd noticed about her, her appearance and costume had always been perfect.
"Perhaps you're right. A bath might help calm my nerves." He'd heard women saying things like that; they seemed to actually enjoy bathing.
Once again Janelle erupted into a flurry of activity. The table and chairs disappeared and were replaced by a stack of folded clothing, a basin, cloths, towels, brushes and several implements he'd never seen before.
He stood watching with wonder and didn't think much about it when Janelle went behind him – until she began unlacing his bodice. He gulped.
Suddenly a feeling of freedom came over him, and he became aware how tightly he'd been strapped in. Two breasts dropped slightly to rest against his chest. Then Janelle whipped the bodice away. He looked down. It wasn't just the odd perspective of looking down at two mounds on his own body that made him gasp, it was the sheer perfection of Princess Marissa's breasts, despite the pressure lines where the bodice had been cutting in. Not overly large, they were just the right size for his hands – at least the ones he'd formerly had – he thought and then was instantly ashamed of himself for thinking of those rough, soldier's hands on the flesh of a princess. And now he realized he was blushing, for the second time.
Janelle had him step out of the princess's shoes and then began removing skirt, petticoat and undergarments. Her touch was impersonal, but still soft and gentle.
Soon he stood naked – as a woman. He refused himself permission to look down; he couldn't demean the princess by gazing at her with the eyes of a woman but the lust of a man. And then he thought those feminine eyes might drop out of his head as Janelle took off her own bodice, apparently to avoid wetting it because she stooped down to pick up the water skin and to wet a cloth in the basin. Her full breasts hung down just slightly, larger than those of Princess Marissa, undulating with her movements. He didn't hesitate to look. Janelle certainly wasn't off limits for a captain of the guards.