Sarah Mac’s Reviews > Swordsmistress of Chaos > Status Update

‘Already savaged by the star, his windpipe cut easily, spilling blood in a pluming fountain over the sand. Raven smiled as the hot, salty fluid splattered her face, drew back her arm… The needle-point of the Ishkarian shield plunged deep into the neck of Karl ir Donwayne. Withdrew…plunged lower to twist & tear through his manhood. He doubled over, his screaming drowning Raven’s laughter.’ ….Damn, girl.

‘She gave herself up to the pleasures of gentle hands & subtle tongue, feeling that exquisite eruption of tension both agonizing & joyous as Krya’s head delved between her legs.’ ….Random sapphic scene, activate! 😱 In which Raven is totally cool with being seduced by Queen Krya in exchange for Spellbinder’s freedom.

‘Raven shuddered, for this blending of human beauty with animal kind was somehow more revolting than the hunched & twisted ugliness of the other Beastmen, as though some omnipotent power fashioned grace & loveliness only to twist it back upon itself to jar the eye, offend the senses. And from the wolf-headed thing there radiated an aura of palpable malevolence.’

‘For the first time Raven saw what she fought; & gagged on the knowledge. The Beastmen belonged to neither the human race or the animal kingdom. Rather, they were an obscene amalgam of both, the joining adding an element of deformity that was simultaneously graceless & malevolent.’

“Have I no say in this?” Raven resented the almost casual discussion of her future. “Am I some chattel to be thrown to the victor? I tell you both: I’ll pick my own man, & whoever seeks to argue that will have no joy of me.”

—“How can I be the turner of the world? Slaveborn, I. Now what? An outlaw, no more. This thing you speak of is too great: I want it not.”
—“You have it.”
—“No! You—whoever you are—cannot force it upon me. No. No. Choose someone else.”
—“It is not a question of choosing, Raven. It is a question of being.”

….Burn. 😬

‘Lascivious she was, & demanding in her need, impatient for him to shed the black & silver armor. And when it was gone, she fell upon him like some ravening beast. Her mouth hunted over his body, lifting him, rousing him, until he groaned a joyful anguish & pitched her over onto her naked back. She felt the warm sand beneath her buttocks, screamed as he entered her; then writhed & strove against his hard body.’

‘She waited for him to speak, wondering what prompted his curious interest. It was clear that the lust she had roused in Argor was not shared by this one—or if shared, controlled with care. He looked like the kind of man to rule his emotions with a firm will, unlike his outlaw companions, & she felt a strange, instinctive kinship.’