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About the author:
She’s a night-owl who can spend the whole night in front of the computer writing, although sometimes she goes the old-fashioned route by writing long-hand in a paper-notebook. When she’s not busy writing she can be found reading or watching documentaries and crime-shows.
What inspired you to write your book?
I love Ancient Rome and lately had been watching a number of documentaries, especially some about the gladiators and how they often were rented out by their owners to offer sexual services to Roman men and women. That’s where they idea came from.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Her curiosity was piqued. Maybe she would ask Vibius Launus, the lanista and owner of the gladiator school, who he was. There was something about him that Livia found arresting and, for a moment, she was even tempted to change her plan. The way he’d looked at her, how his eyes had raked over her body during that first moment, had made something low in her stomach flutter with excitement and the flesh between her legs throb and tingle with sudden heat. She wondered what it would feel like to be touched and used by him. He looked like the kind of man who knew how to give a woman what she needed, making her scream and beg with lust; the type who would not hesitate to take what he wanted.
But a guard was someone she could have whenever she felt like it, even this one. Money made a lot of things possible and Livia had realized quickly that Vibius Launus was always extremely helpful where money and status were involved. A gladiator, though, was a different story. With a gladiator one had to be cautious and fast. There was always the chance that he might be killed during the next games and she already had her eyes set on a very specific gladiator: Martialis, the Gaul. And she wanted him before he died during the games, or was wounded and became useless to her.
She’d watched Martialis fight during the last games and had been captivated right from the very beginning. He was one of the equites, a rider who fought with a lance. Not something one would expect one of the wild and barbaric Gauls to excel in, but he’d been impressive on horseback. He had easily kept control of the animal during his fight with the other rider. After they’d thrown their lances, dismounted, and continued to fight on foot, she’d still been unable to tear her gaze away from him, transfixed by the way he fought, the controlled strength of his movements and the fierce pleasure he seemed to take from the battle.