I know many of you are anxiously waiting for the next part of the Marechal Chronicles, and for that, I thank you for your patience.
This post is to inform you that I am currently at work on Volume IV–The Chase and am concentrating solely on this story and none other.
I have also made a decision that the Chronicles will finish with a total of five parts, rather than six. What I had originally thought of as parts four and five will be published in a single, longer volume. I think this will serve you, the readers, and the story itself better.
Again, I thank you for your patience. My hope (although I cannot make any promises) is to have completed and published Volume IV-The Chase this January (2013).
To be sure you will know when it is ready, please subscribe for updates from me. The link for it is just there, in the left hand margin of the page.
Take care, all of you,
Edited to add: I want to remind those of you who enjoyed The Marechal Chronicles that there is a prequel story concerning the hero’s past and that it will provide a richer understanding of the Marechal himself and the mystery that surrounds him. (This will, in turn, be a focus of the upcoming installments, as well.)
“An army captain with a mysterious scar is torn from the battle front and from his lover in this story of espionage, body thieves and devious eroticism.
The legendary Goblin War rages while a soldier’s own identity slips away from him in his struggle between his forgotten past and the woman who loves him. Action, intrigue, and intense sexuality…all this and more awaits between these pages.
This is an erotic stand-alone story of 11,000 words, but also a prequel to the events recounted in the ongoing series, The Marechal Chronicles by Aimélie Aames.”
They were alone. At least, as alone as could be expected in the middle
of an army. One that was camped under a pouring rain at the edge of a
Sounds of coughing, of armor creaking and of mud sucking at soldiers’
feet as they tramped by infiltrated the canvas tent, but the man and the
woman within felt at peace and far removed from the corpse strewn
battlefield of just a few days before.
It was a soldier’s life, those few moments stolen in desperation until
the next maneuver found them thrust back into the living sea of military
men and women crashing wave after wave upon the rocks that were their
enemy, the goblin hoard of old.
Black blood and ichor had stained the hands of both of them. Hands that
now touched one another in tenderness as the man brought his lips to
drink at those of the woman.
She moved under him, her body as naked as his, not in denial, but in motions of desire and welcome.
The kiss lingered upon their lips as they broke contact and he dipped
his head to run his mouth along her neck, drifting as light as a feather
to behind her ear where he knew she was especially vulnerable to his
Her hair was of steel, where his showed no sign of grey. But, her body
was trim and muscular, the body of a career soldier who took every
aspect of her metier to its logical extreme.
He could read discipline in her least gesture, even in the smile she
gave him as he pulled back from nuzzling her neck. It was why he was so
drawn to her. That she was a mature woman was part of it, as well.
He did not remember his mother, and only very little of his father, and
supposed that therein lay some echo of the missing puzzle pieces of his
“Alexandre, I need you inside me,” she whispered, her tone as direct as ever.
He replied, “And, who asks? My general, or my lover?”
“Both…neither…only make love to me, soldier.” Her voice rose as she opened her thighs to him….
He dropped his head down to her heavy breasts and took a dark nipple
into his mouth. She tasted of lye soap, the best one could expect in a
simple life spent marching from one battlefield to the next, most often
passing weeks at a time with no chance to wash, much less bathe.
That she was now a general changed little in the way of privileges,
although the two of them would not deny in that moment, a general’s
personal quarters, a small tent meant just for her was welcome enough.
He ran his hands down her body. Her skin was soft, despite her hard life.
“Now, Alexandre,” she urged him….