LURE OF THE EMERALD PEACOCK
Thanks to the moderators of RJB for allowing me this opportunity.
Lure of the Emerald Peacock
A land of beauty and an ancient history. A land where magic potions and soothsayers walk hand- in- hand with everyday life. It is 1947. In the dying days of the British Raj
See the exotic TRAILER. With music from Song of
India and the author’s photographs of that wonderful land.YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZcmGjJiR2I
SHORT EXCERPT Even bloodied, sweating, and bound in handcuffs, the magnificent Scotsman was a fearsome sight. His arms pulled above his head with a rope and pulley, he braced his riding boots on the floor to ease the sting of his raw and bleeding wrists. The goonda chief grinned and prodded his prisoner. “Bow to the lady. She is Maharaja Asohk Kumar’s young sister,” he sneered with a grin, knowing that the Scotsman could barely move let alone bow. Discarding his prisoner, the chief rushed to welcome the young woman entering the room and grovelled before her, then, holding the door wide he waited for the Maharaja’s entry.
Through a haze of pain, the Scotsman observed the half-breed girl looking across at him. She hung back a moment, shock imprinted on her face at what she saw, then, took a few steps forward into the full light of the room. Her beauty was beyond anything he’d ever imagined, the delicate eggshell texture of her skin and midnight hair that fell in waves to her waist. And those lips, the colour and sweetness of a pink lady guava, demanding a man taste of them. The beauty’s eyes travelled salaciously over the expanse of his broad bare chest along his ribcage to the waistband of his trousers, lingering at the area of his exposed navel and on down below that, where her gaze rested. The tip of her tongue circled her lips to moisten them, her thrusting breasts, breath-taking seduction, rose with the long breath she drew. Despite his pain, the Scotsman’s gut tensed and his blood flared in his veins. The goonda chief and his two burly brutes bowed with folded hands as the Maharaja came tearing in. “Sarkar despite all my efforts, he won’t talk—typical British. Too stubborn for his own good.”
At all gala functions in the book an authentic Anglo-Indian culinary delight is served. Find the complete recipe on the last page.
Book now, Available at Champagne Books www.champagnebooks.com Romona Hilliger Author Author website www.thewaterfront.net.au/romonaAuthor YouTube http://au.youtube.com/user/snowstarZ2
Seems to be a breathtaking story is a must read I would look out for the whole story.