Born in space. Raised as a pet. I’ve never allowed myself to even dream of love.
Lyra
I’ve never worn clothes, held a fork, or made a decision. When my old master dies, I’m put up for auction and sold to the highest bidder. I expected my life to continue as it had always been—kneeling at my master’s feet. Instead, I’m told I’m now free.
I should feel grateful, but I’m terrified of being alone. Maybe if I’m good enough, my new master will decide to keep me.
When I dig deep and discover the well of my own power, I have a burning desire for something more than freedom--I want Vartan. I’m going to do whatever it takes to seize my new dream.
Vartan
My quest in life is liberating slaves. When I see a human female up for auction, I purchase her in order to set her free. Imagine my surprise when she doesn’t want freedom but requests to stay with me instead.
Through my ignorance, I damage things between us. To make amends, I vow to help her discover herself and unlock her deepest desires.
I ache for this female. How can I let her go when it’s our destiny to share our heart connection?
This standalone in the Galaxy Gladiators series has everything you’ve come to expect from bestselling author Alana Khan—action, fighting, and sensual love scenes.
If you like hot heroic alien males and strong human females who find their purpose, you’ll love Vartan. This book has no cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after. Warning: It contains graphic sex and violence.
Purchase Your Copy Today!
Excerpt:
Gladiator Vartan and human Lyra’s relationship has hit some snags. Lyra was born in space and raised as a pet. Vartan and Lyra’s first sexual explorations were awkward to say the least and resulted in the captain of the ship prohibiting them from touching for a while. Vartan’s friend Shadow has come to his room to give some pointers.“How are things going?” Shadow asks after he enters my cabin.
“I’ve been working in the hydroponics—”
“I should have been more clear. How are things going with you and Lyra?”
“These last few weeks have been good. I’ve taught her some things in hydroponics. Dahlia says she’s already reading at the first-grade level, whatever that means. Dahlia seems pleased, and Lyra is ecstatic. She’s learned how to—”
“Stop! Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. I’ve watched you two together. You have feelings for each other. Zar’s touching prohibition? How is that going?”
“Are you checking up on me? Wondering if I’ve broken the rule? I respect Zar and every male and female on this ship too much to violate their trust.” I try to stifle my outrage at his suggestion that I’ve cheated.
“Sorry, that came out fucked up. I love that Earther curse word. Eventually, you’re going to be allowed to touch again. It didn’t sound like it went so well last time. Want some pointers?”
My jaw locks and I give him a flaming look. From one gladiator to another, it’s a clear message to back the drack up or prepare to get pounded.
I hear he doesn’t fight in arenas anymore, perhaps that’s why he plunges ahead rather than shutting the fuck up as he would say. Perhaps he’s itching for a fight.
“All I’m saying, Vartan, is that when you touch her, it should shake her world. My mate, Petra, told me Lyra didn’t know what an orgasm was.” He lifts an eyebrow. “After one night with you, virgin or not, she should. She should know. Have you ever been with a female who wasn’t paid for?”
“No.” My fists ball at my sides and I use every ounce of self-control I have not to headbutt him. If I wasn’t already in so much trouble, I’d pound him to the floor right now.
My jaw is quivering in rage when Shadow says, “I was a playboy before I was forced into slavery. I know tricks. With a female like Lyra, you won’t need tricks, Vartan. Just information. She looks at you like you dusted the sky with stars.”
I take long, deep breaths through my nose, calming myself enough to realize I have a lot to learn and Shadow just might be the male to teach me.
My pride was feeling a bit bruised, but that last bit about how Lyra looks at me helped me feel less judged.
He opens his fisted hand and lets a rare barta fruit roll onto the table.
“Watch the master,” he says with a devilish smile as he pulls a small knife from its hiding place in his knee-high black boot.
After cutting it and pulling the two halves apart, he discards the oval pit which reveals glistening pink flesh. “Imagine this is your female’s xizca.”
My irritation disappears one minima later after he gives me a guided tour of the private space between a female’s legs using the fruit as a visual demonstration.
“I know what it’s like to be given a female for a few minimas after a win. A male can be so starved for sex and in such a hurry, the last thing on his mind is an anatomy lesson—or his partner’s pleasure. And prostitutes? You’re paying for it. Their enjoyment should be of no concern to you.”
He winks at me, which is an odd picture since one of his eyes is prosthetic. “Lyra’s different, brother. Right?”
“Absolutely,” I agree, then lean closer to watch what he does with his tongue, his lips, his mouth, and his chin.
“You try it,” Shadow indicates the other half of the barta with his juice-covered chin, then instructs me on the finer points of when to point my tongue, when to use the flat of it, when to press harder, and when to give her a minima to breathe. He teaches me to listen to her body, to observe subtle cues like the noises she makes or the tension in her muscles.
“She’ll like this?” I lift the ripe pink fruit toward him.
“It’s your job to not only make her like this. You need to make her love it. No. Not love it, become addicted to it. Do it right and your female will beg for it, or if she’s like my Petra, she’ll demand it. And if your female deserves you, she’ll reward you in a thousand wonderful ways.”
His eyebrow wings up toward his hairline in a lascivious gesture shared only with other males.
“A good female like Lyra will try to push you away. She’ll be embarrassed. That’s why it’s your job to act as if you’ve done this a hundred times. Only when you’re done—and by done I mean she’s screamed with pleasure at least three times—should you say anything about how she looks down there. She’ll be shy and unsure. When you do say something, be sure and express how pretty she is, and that she tastes better than Paragon cake. Got it?”
“Got it? Are you crazy? I’m committing everything you say to memory.”
“Good male! Later in your relationship you can sometimes skip the barta-eating step, but not until you’ve mastered what comes later in the program.”
“And that is?”
“One step at a time, brother.” He takes a bite out of his half of the barta and strides out of my cabin after tossing a wicked grin over his shoulder.
Celebration Giveaway:
To celebrate the release of VARTAN by Alana Khan, we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card!!
GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS: Open internationally. One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card. This giveaway is administered by BookMojo on behalf of Alana Khan. BookMojo will distribute the prize to the winner. Giveaway ends 8/31/2021 @ 11:59pm EST.
About the Author:
I write under a pen name because until recently I was still a practicing psychotherapist and didn’t think my clients would want to be privy to the sexy stories I write for fun. I think my history as a therapist gives me unique insight into people’s thoughts, feelings and motivations and provides my writing the ring of truth and deep emotion.
I’ve specialized in working with trauma and post-traumatic stress disorder since the beginning of my career. Maybe this is why most of my characters have some…issues. Don’t we all? Even though many of my characters have been scarred and traumatized, I make them work hard to earn their happily ever after, which is guaranteed in every book––because they deserve it.
I know life is hard and the path to true love is littered with potholes and poor choices. That’s why it’s easy to write books with real themes about real people who encounter real difficulties before the characters find their well-deserved bliss. I guarantee no “too stupid to live” heroines and no ridiculous misunderstandings. My characters’ struggles are real and compelling—just like yours.
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