Uncut Power

[taoschild]

Uncut Power is will be available on Smashwords and Apple Books within a few hours and is scheduled for release on Christmas on Amazon kindle. 

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Here is the copy cover:
She was forged for war. Now she fights for more
In a realm torn by rebellion and curses, Liana, a young street urchin in a remote province, is bound by prophecy and power to become the Ruby Encantée. Through three wishes, she is tied to the prince, Rafee, compelled to follow his commands.

Yet within the seeds of those wishes, Liana can grow stronger than any soldier, feared by kings, wielding a will as unbreakable as her body—and may be able to turn the tables on her captor prince.

From the bloodied barracks to the ruby-lit throne room, their bond is forged in combat, passion, and a crown neither expected to share. But when destiny calls her toward a kingdom of ice, beasts, and secrets they must face the truth: her greatest strength may not be in her fists... but in what she carries inside.
Brimming with visceral battles, smoldering dominance, and a heroine whose power inspires awe and desire in equal measure, Ruby Princess is perfect for fans of epic fantasy and those who crave a muscular female protagonist, an epic quest, and the seeds of a unique romance.

Here is a segment from Chapter 10 below. I will post a few more segments
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"The prince is quite upset that you're late," Dahlia offered in a low voice, her dark eyes flashing with mischief. "He looked about ready to kick over a table."

Liana raised an eyebrow and reached for a towel, arms still trembling faintly from Codonius's drills. "I can tell the prince what to be upset about," she muttered, wiping her face with curt strokes. "I've been doing real work. The prince hasn't wanted to see me of late, anyway."

Dana, sprawled nearby on a training bench drinking what looked like fermented goat milk, snorted. "You'd better be careful," she said, slinging a towel over her shoulder. "He might throw a royal tantrum and try to duel you with a feather quill."

Liana smirked despite herself as she tugged her damp tunic over her head. Her biceps flexed with the motion, veins surfacing subtly beneath taut skin. It was an unintentional display of power honed through bruises, sweat, and too many cold dawns. Dahlia's eyes flicked down almost unconsciously. There was reverence in her gaze, though she masked it with an unsteady grin.

"You going to tell him off again?" Dana asked, rising to her feet and grabbing a fresh tunic from her dresser and tossing it to Liana like a lazy offering. "Or are you going to let him admire his queenly sculpture and apologize with roses?"

Liana rolled her eyes, tugging on the tunic and tying a rope around the sides. It wasn't exactly an attractive look, but it emphasized her majestic V-Taper. "I'll tell him what he needs to hear," she said coolly, "and hope he remembers I'm not a vase to decorate the corner of his chambers."

"Oh, he knows," Dana said, heading toward the door with a grin. "He just can't decide if he wants to worship you or conquer you."

Liana paused, blinking, and then gave a dry laugh.

At the prince's door, Dahlia departed. Liana knocked once, more out of habit than respect, and pushed the door open.

Rafee sat by the window, a beam of sunlight stretched across a book opened on his lap. He looked handsome, wearing a shirt loose at the collar and stylish pants. His gaze was sharp, but beneath it flickered a shadow of something hidden behind a practiced coolness. The room smelled of parchment and lavender oil and something more anxious underneath.

"You're late," he said, his voice low and sharp.

A yawn stretched her mouth, muffling her response. "I am weary," she replied, wiping the sweat from her brow. "May we speak when sleep has taken me?" She began removing her tunic with drudgery rather than her usual ease.

He stood. "No. You said today we'd walk the gardens. I had a dress stitched for you. You promised."

He sounds less like a prince and more like a petulant child, sulking over a gift kept from him.

Her first impulse was to sass him back. She wanted to echo his words but settled on, "I can't even feel my legs."

"Come, you must."

She felt the pull of the ruby, but both of them knew he was urging rather than demanding. The pull settled.

"I haven't even bathed. I reek," she protested, turning her face slightly away as a defense.

"I see you only twice a week," Rafee said, stepping forward. His jaw was tight. "Twice. The rest of the time, I must ask Dahlia how you're eating or wait for some bruised knight to tell me how hard you hit. I'm not just some rest stop on your path to godhood, Liana."

"That's not fair."

"Perhaps not," he admitted, "But I've cleared my schedule for your arrival today, so, here's what's going to happen. Since you won't walk, you'll lie down."

He crossed the room, picked up a blanket from the foot of the bed, and tossed it aside. Then, he pulled out his charcoal and drawing pad from the desk.
"Lie there. Head resting on your fists. Let me draw you. No armor. No walls. Just you."

Liana stared at him. "You're not serious."

"I am."

She hesitated. There was something in his voice between a plea and command that told Liana he needed this. She gave in. At least she'd get to lie down.

"I look like a wreck. I'm so tired, Rafee."

"I want to draw you exactly as you are. You will do what I say."

He's pushed the button again. A direct order.

She felt the compulsion eat at her. She would have acquiesced anyway. The chance to lay down at this point, no matter how, was just too enticing. But his firm command made her bristle even as she began to comply.

Reluctantly, muttering something unkind under her breath, she finished peeling off her tunic and sat on the edge of the bed, back to him. She undid her braids. Slowly, she stretched out over the furs, her spine long and muscular, the dim firelight catching the curves of her hips, the definition in her hamstrings, and the powerful taper of her back.

[taoschild]

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[taoschild]

Here is the smashwords link: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

[taoschild]

Uncut Power is now live on Amazon kindle: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login  Merry Christmas!

Here is a continuation of the scene.
---------

Rafee drew in a sharp and audible breath.

She relaxed and rested her head lightly on her elbow, back turned to him. A silk sheet draped over one hip left most of her taut muscles exposed beneath the room's soft glow. Even at rest, her glutes looked sculpted, her calves braided stone under sun-warmed silk. Her forearms, folded beneath her chin, were explosive with power; tendons stood out, veins etched like vines beneath the skin. She resembled a living statue, forged not from marble but by hard work and perseverance.

She knew what her physique did to him.

At first, she loathed how exposed she felt, especially given his feelings, but she didn't tell him to stop. His hot gaze swept over her like a hawk stalking prey. She could almost feel the heat radiating off him, the subtle quickening of his breath as he took in the taut planes of muscle beneath her skin.

For long minutes, the scratch of charcoal against paper was the only sound. His drawing was precise, pausing only now and then to glance up, measure angles, shadows, and tension. She felt his eyes devouring her form, and, through the ruby, she all but sensed how her body was taking shape beneath his hand.

Desire echoed back along the ruby's deepening bond. She tried to steady her breath, but each drag of charcoal was an electrifying trace along her biceps, shoulders, and forearms. Each pause and intent look kindled a low heat, pooling insistent and deep. He wasn't just sketching muscle, but memory.

Every detail in the thick atmosphere seemed to amplify his want and send it ricocheting back to her. The fan above stirred the air, chilling sweat along her chest and pebbling her nipples. She made no move to hide the reaction. His need only flared.

Her core ached as she caught him out of the corner of her eye, drinking in the lines of her thighs and the soft folds tucked between her glutes and the backs of her legs where the taut muscle gave way to gentle warmth, hidden just beneath the delicate edge of the silk.

She bit her lip, fighting the image of his thick, heavy, achingly close length pushing between her thighs. The image swelled, impossible to bury, every drag of charcoal driving it deeper until she nearly moaned aloud.

No, not him. Yes, him. Gods yes.

A soft, almost inaudible whisper escaped his lips, "breathtaking."

She felt the pull of his gaze awaken a deep ache that spread low and hot between her legs and fought the feeling. She shifted slightly, the muscles in her legs tightening and relaxing beneath his studying eyes as if calling attention to their form. His breath grew shallow, unnoticed at first, until she caught it, a small hitch that matched the quickening beat of her own heart.

She was keenly aware of his gaze. Every flick of the charcoal was a touch she could almost feel. It was as if he was tasting the texture of her limbs with his eyes as he followed the taut plane of her back, where muscles rose like ridges beside his blankets.

Then, all too suddenly, soft as a prayer, he whispered, "Done."

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[taoschild]

 

No kindle option 😢

It's now available on Kindle.

[taoschild]

Amazon link for Uncut Power: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login Apple books: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login Smashwords: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

-----
Rafee drew in a sharp and audible breath.

She relaxed and rested her head lightly on her elbow, back turned to him. A silk sheet draped over one hip left most of her taut muscles exposed beneath the room's soft glow. Even at rest, her glutes looked sculpted, her calves braided stone under sun-warmed silk. Her forearms, folded beneath her chin, were explosive with power; tendons stood out, veins etched like vines beneath the skin. She resembled a living statue, forged not from marble but by hard work and perseverance.

She knew what her physique did to him.

At first, she loathed how exposed she felt, especially given his feelings, but she didn't tell him to stop. His hot gaze swept over her like a hawk stalking prey. She could almost feel the heat radiating off him, the subtle quickening of his breath as he took in the taut planes of muscle beneath her skin.

For long minutes, the scratch of charcoal against paper was the only sound. His drawing was precise, pausing only now and then to glance up, measure angles, shadows, and tension. She felt his eyes devouring her form, and, through the ruby, she all but sensed how her body was taking shape beneath his hand.
Desire echoed back along the ruby's deepening bond. She tried to steady her breath, but each drag of charcoal was an electrifying trace along her biceps, shoulders, and forearms. Each pause and intent look kindled a low heat, pooling insistent and deep. He wasn't just sketching muscle, but memory.

Every detail in the thick atmosphere seemed to amplify his want and send it ricocheting back to her. The fan above stirred the air, chilling sweat along her chest and pebbling her nipples. She made no move to hide the reaction. His need only flared.

Her core ached as she caught him out of the corner of her eye, drinking in the lines of her thighs and the soft folds tucked between her glutes and the backs of her legs where the taut muscle gave way to gentle warmth, hidden just beneath the delicate edge of the silk.

She bit her lip, fighting the image of his thick, heavy, achingly close length pushing between her thighs. The image swelled, impossible to bury, every drag of charcoal driving it deeper until she nearly moaned aloud.

No, not him. Yes, him. Gods yes.

A soft, almost inaudible whisper escaped his lips, "breathtaking."

She felt the pull of his gaze awaken a deep ache that spread low and hot between her legs and fought the feeling. She shifted slightly, the muscles in her legs tightening and relaxing beneath his studying eyes as if calling attention to their form. His breath grew shallow, unnoticed at first, until she caught it, a small hitch that matched the quickening beat of her own heart.

She was keenly aware of his gaze. Every flick of the charcoal was a touch she could almost feel. It was as if he was tasting the texture of her limbs with his eyes as he followed the taut plane of her back, where muscles rose like ridges beside his blankets.

Then, all too suddenly, soft as a prayer, he whispered, "Done."

[GrowingBull89]

Still weirdly won't allow me to purchase on Kindle 🤷

[taoschild]

That's really strange - I just downloaded it: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
It's also on Apple Books: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
Smashwords: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
etc.