By Kim Iverson Headlee
Genre: Historical Romance (ancient Rome)
How hard would
you fight for a chance at impossible love?
“Epic.” ~ Drue’s
Random Chatter Reviews.
From the
critically acclaimed, award-winning pen of Kim Iverson Headlee comes the
thrilling, poignant tale of love across a vast social divide.
WINNER, 2015
BooksGoSocial Best Book.
Betrayed by her
father and sold as payment of a Roman tax debt to fight in Londinium's arena,
gladiatrix-slave Rhyddes feels like a wild beast in a gilded cage. Celtic
warrior blood flows in her veins, but Roman masters own her body. She clings to
her vow that no man shall claim her soul, though Marcus Calpurnius Aquila, son
of the Roman governor, makes her yearn for a love she believes impossible.
Groomed to
follow in his father’s footsteps and trapped in a politically advantageous
betrothal, Aquila prefers the purity of combat on the amphitheater sands to the
sinister intrigues of imperial politics, and the raw power and athletic grace
of the flame-haired Libertas to the adoring deference of Rome's noblewomen.
When a plot to overthrow Caesar ensnares them as pawns in the dark design, Aquila must choose between the Celtic slave who has won his heart and the empire to which they both owe allegiance. Trusting no man and knowing the opposite of obedience is death, the only liberty offered to any slave, Rhyddes must embrace her arena name, Libertas—and the love of a man willing to sacrifice everything to forge a future with her.
When a plot to overthrow Caesar ensnares them as pawns in the dark design, Aquila must choose between the Celtic slave who has won his heart and the empire to which they both owe allegiance. Trusting no man and knowing the opposite of obedience is death, the only liberty offered to any slave, Rhyddes must embrace her arena name, Libertas—and the love of a man willing to sacrifice everything to forge a future with her.
Marcus
Calpurnius Aquila sprawled on his belly across the cushioned and linen-draped
marble massage table, his head, arms, shins, and feet jutting over the table’s
padded edges. As the male slave worked eucalyptus-scented unguent into the
aching muscles, Marcus could feel the tensions of combat seep away.
Too bad the man
couldn’t work out the knots in Marcus’s relationship with his father, Sextus
Calpurnius Agricola, governor of Britannia province.
Citing “official
business” yet again, Agricola had declined to witness Marcus’s gladiatorial
bout in Londinium’s amphitheater this afternoon. His opponent had fought well,
causing Marcus in his scanty armor to work up a sweat that, judging by the
reverberating high-pitched cheers, had all the women swooning with delight.
Never mind that
Marcus, who fought under his cognomen, Aquila, the Eagle, remained a perennial
favorite with the crowd. Agricola never missed an opportunity to point out that
his arena exhibitions—and the resulting private liaisons with adoring female
spectators—flirted with the precipice of social acceptability and could damage Marcus’s
political aspirations.
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Kim Headlee
lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, Great
Pyrenees goat guards, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go,
but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied
as recently as the mid-twentieth century—seem to be sticking around for a while
yet. She has been an award-winning novelist since 1999 (Dawnflight first
edition, Sonnet Books, Simon & Schuster) and has been studying the
Arthurian Legends for nigh on half a century.
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