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The Lost Horseman SneakPeak

Updated: Jan 4

Here's the first look into The Lost Horseman (Horseman's Harem Saga book two): sexy moments with Connie, drunken shenanigans with Nine and Connie, and more Magic uniqueness!

Connie scowls. “That is so fucking shit!” I step back as she clenches her fists. “You get to just magically avoid your periods for the rest of time while I’m stuck with them?” She laughs in that crazy way of hers, and I get really worried for my pretty face for a second. “How is that fair! What did I ever do to Fate to deserve this bullshit?”


I rest a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry?”


She takes a calming breath and looks me in the eyes. “It’s okay. Just a little . . . annoying.”

“Hey, I get it. Two thousand years of periods must be seriously sucky.”


“You have no idea.” She rolls her eyes and turns away to get changed.


I rummage through my wardrobe to find something more appropriate to wear and settle on a simple look of black ripped jeans, sparkly pink knee-high boots, my punked-out denim jacket (pink sequins and skulls included) and a black tee. Oh, and don’t forget the black choker (what even is an outfit without one?).


Okay, so maybe it isn’t a simple look, but I swear that’s what I was going for to begin with.


Scout’s honor.


Okay, so I wasn’t a girl scout, either. But, hey, a girl can only go so long without pink sequins in her life—trust me—and this is a pink sequin kind of day.


“You girls done?” Nine asks, exasperated from watching our antics and having to turn around from us getting changed.


“Yeah!” we both say in unison and giggle like a couple of teenagers about to go out drinking for the first time.


So far, the partying hasn’t really interested me that much. Maybe it just isn’t my thing? It all seems so . . . over the top. Like each club is trying too hard to be something they aren’t.


Goddess, I sound so old.


Ha! Good one.


Oh, right. Partying with two-thousand-year-old beings; I am not the old one in the room.

It’s two in the afternoon, Dea and Arrie left three hours ago, and none of us have heard from them, so we have time to kill. If Connie wants to party, then I guess we’re partying.

Weirdly, I feel more comfortable partying in my female form. Wonder why?


I shrug my shoulders, grab my handbag (also black with pink sequins), shove my stuff in, grab my room key, and shove everyone out of the door. “Let’s go!” I wrap my arms through Nine’s and Connie’s and drag us all outside.


It’s on them from here; I’m not exactly filled with a map of the area, nor do I know where all the best afternoon bars and clubs are, so I let them guide me.


Nine seems to have some kind of idea, so he drags us girls behind him with fervor, past blocks, streets of tourist insanity, and onto a quieter back-alley path that leads to a wide street with low-key parties, no through traffic, and a wonderful-smelling food place on the corner that I nearly drag us into before Nine promises some place better.


On the corner end of that street sits a wonderful-looking, café-style eatery with an attached bar: disaster café. Apparently named after their famous Disaster Vodka Shake—drunken shenanigans are likely to ensue. (Please look away now if you do not wish to be embarrassed alongside me.)


“C’mon!” Nine grabs our hands as we look at each other and shrug. Seems Connie hasn’t been here before either. “This’ll be hilarious!”


What’s he up to?


You said you wanted to live life a bit? Get drunk and stumble home. Well, their Disaster Shakes are a good way to go! C’mon, live a little with me . . .


Well, when he puts it like that . . . Why not?


When we get into the café and sit down on the food side, me being starving (as usual) and Nine wanting me to try one of their Death-Defying Donuts, I instantly take a liking to the place. It’s cozy, but at the same time it has a unique, dancing kind of atmosphere.


Nine smiles at me once he’s ordered us three donuts, clearly enjoying my approval of his choice. It’s so easy to please him—I love it!


The donuts are as big as my face! Oh, and dripping in chocolate. Two donuts later (I go back for seconds, they’re fucking great, don’t judge me), Connie is ready to party, so we head to the other half of the floor where they have a mild club atmosphere going on, complete with small dancefloor, a couple of pool tables in the back, and some tables dotted around.


A few people are here but not many. That being said, it’s only five in the afternoon.

“Okay,” Nine says, “I’ll get the drinks, you two go off and . . . do whatever it is girls do on nights out.” He winks and heads toward the bar.


Connie grabs my wrist and heads over to a pool table. These are a little old-fashioned nowadays but really add to the cultural, cozy vibe this place has going on.

“Wanna play?”


She gives me such a sweet smile, I can’t say no. Despite having no memory of this game or any real experience. Here’s to hoping my Vampire nature might help. Or I could cheat using air magic. (Shhh, don’t snitch on me.)


“Sure.” I grab one of the digital cues and act as though I know what I’m doing, but I think Connie sees right through that, as she laughs and rolls her eyes at me.


“Need me to explain the rules?” She doesn’t even wait for me to put on a fake load of confidence and shrug off her suggestion. “Yeah, whatever. Here it goes.”


She goes on to explain the basic rules, and I think I kinda get it: just shoot my color balls into the pockets using the cue’s aiming feature and don’t pot the white or black. Got it.

Halfway into the first game—I’m losing, by the way—Nine comes back with our drinks: one Disaster Shake for each of us. Connie downs half before her next go while I try to compete and fail miserably, spluttering half the foam all over Nine’s shirt.


He just laughs it off and whacks me on the back, trying to get me to stop choking. “Easy there. Drink slowly.” He eyes Connie with a scowl. “Don’t challenge her. Milkshake’s hard to chug, you know.”


She shrugs. “Age has its perks.” And downs the other half.


Damn it, I’m not going down like this. I take a deep breath and chug the entire two-liter vodka milkshake in one, hoping my immortal system will save me from getting too drunk too soon.


Neither, I think to myself, am I losing this game. I bring my attention back to the pool table and pot a ball by coaxing it into the hole using a little bit of air manipulation.

“Oh, so we’re allowed to use magic, are we?”


Nine watches and laughs. “You shouldn’t have done that. She has magically perfect aim, remember?”


Ah fuck. I forgot about that.


“She’s won hundreds of thousands of piles of gold over the years hustling poor folks at pool, darts. Anything with an aim.” He shakes his head. “Fun while it lasts, but it usually got us thrown out of town.”


“Hey, it ain’t my fault they can’t keep up.”


She was seriously high maintenance back in the day, wasn’t she?


You have no idea. She was such a fucking handful. Mellowed out since men and women have become equal, though.


Damn. Would have been fun to see.


You might get lucky.


Connie goes ahead and pots every ball of her color in under a minute, and I sulk on the nearest chair.


“That’s not fair! I was just using a little magic!” Part of me wants to go all out and stomp my feet, but I manage to restrain myself. One point to adult me.


Nine wraps an arm around my should. “Told you so.” He pulls me into a hug and runs his hands up my back, dipping his fingers under the edge of my vest-tee.


Connie walks over and coughs, interrupting the moment. “May I?”


Nine lets go of me, and Connie moves in, placing a hand to either side of my face and tilting it up. “Let me make it up to you.” Her voice is huskier than usual, and I recognize the movement of her head and the half-lidded haze of her eyes. She’s about to kiss me.

Closing the distance, I grab her lips with mine and make out with the sexiest woman on the planet in a bar half-full of people.


Nine stands next to us and furiously blushes.


But she isn’t done. She’s not letting me go. Not this time. Especially not after seeing how far Nine and I got before we left for Earth—at least, I suspect that’s the direction her thoughts have gone.


She grazes her tongue along my bottom lip, and my lips part on instinct. She uses the opportunity to slip her tongue in my mouth and tangle it with mine, deepening the kiss. Her hand leaves my cheek and brushes the edges of my vest and bra, teasing the sensitive skin there and flaring a heat I’ve been ignoring into a blaze of passion that has me running my own hands under her top and creeping under the edge of her bra.

I can feel my panties getting wetter by the second, and the only thing that stops me from taking things further is Nine’s mental reminder that we are in a public place and lots of people are staring at the two hot women making out in the corner.


Before I can pull away, however, Connie dips a finger into my bra and brushes it over my nipple. I groan into her mouth and feel her satisfactory smile press across her lips.


“Connie . . . not here.” I pull away and look around, noticing Nine smirking at us as he casually watches the show, along with a lot of other people who’ve started to file in for the evening.


She just smiles and plays it off, but I know she wants to go further with me, and I would be lying if I say I don’t find her struggle to hold back hot as fuck. This woman is going to be the death of me. When I get her home to Sheruta, I am going to spend a very pleasant afternoon with her sprawled on the bed, discovering exactly what she’s imagining right now.


Nine blushes at the direction my, probably very loud, thoughts have taken, but I just re-challenge her to another game of pool.


“Another drink, ladies?”


We both nod, and he goes off in search of more alcohol. He’s right, it does wear off quickly for us; I’m already feeling less light-headed.


I lean forward and whisper, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you everything your little heart desires when we get home,” into Connie’s ear.


Watching her blush as she fumbles with setting up the pool table is an absolute delight. For all her confidence, I sometimes forget that she’s as nervous as I am about taking this further. At least with me she is.


I wonder . . . 


“Connie?” I walk over to her so we can have a more private conversation. “I have a question, though it’s a little . . . personal?”


“Well, it is a Friday.” She laughs. “Ask away!”


“Have you had relationships with women before? I mean, I get the entire team is more fluid than other people, but . . . I was just curious . . .”


She sighs, as though expecting my question. “I’ve had a few threesomes with women before, when trying to please the guy or whatever.” She groans. “But I’ve never had sex with just another woman.” She tries to shrug off her blushing, but I can tell this is actually a semi-serious topic for her. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever really been attracted to, I guess.”


Really? “I just assumed you’d done it all.”


“Oh, don’t misunderstand, I’ve done a lot with other women over the years during group sex, but that’s not a frequent thing for me. Nor is it something I’ve really wanted to do. Until now.” She raises my hand it to her lips. “I really want to explore things with you. It’ll be new for us both, which I know is something you’ll look forward to.”


She’s inexperienced in this area, too. Well, kind of. As inexperienced as you can be after two thousand years. She’s right, that does make me smile.


Nine comes back with two more shakes each and a series of shots. We down them all, play a hilariously drunken game of pool where we both lose miserably while Nine distracts us, and then we start dancing.


Nine takes over DJing from the guy after he refuses to play anything recent, and once that happens, everyone in the bar area, and a few from the café, too, dance with us.

By the time ten pm comes around, we’ve each drunken over a dozen of those Disaster Shakes, more shots than I know how to count, and I can’t keep from stumbling around the dancefloor like an idiot.


“Okkkaay,” Nine says, “I think I should get you two home.” He seems pretty sober, which is a total bore.


“Nooooooo,” I scream a little too loudly. “More dancing . . .”


He chuckles. “One more song. Then we’re off. We have work to do tomorrow.”


“We do?” I’m struggling to think straight.


“Uh-huh, but don’t worry about that just now.” He kisses my forehead. “Keep having fun.”


He lines up another song and joins us on the dancefloor, and I soon find myself dancing between them, Connie in front and Nine behind. And I would be lying if I say I don’t find this hot as fuck. This would be a legendary way to lose my immortal v-card, and the more I think about it, the better an idea it becomes.


Not while drunk. I’m not fucking either of you until you’re sober. And before you even think about it, neither will Arrie or Dea.


Boooo! Buzzkill.


He drags us off the dancefloor at the end of the song (well, as much as Famine can drag Conquest and Magic anywhere—which is to say, barely anywhere). He sighs and mumbles, “Fine.”


Three songs later, Dea and Arrie arrive, and we’re finally being dragged out of the cool shake club and down the winding cobble-stoned paths toward our hotel.


Connie and I sing and dance down every street, getting strange looks from all three sober men behind us as they each find our antics hilarious as we trip over every possible thing in our way. (No, I didn’t trip, the floor rose up to say hello.)


Connie grabs my hand and drags me along, both of us singing that nursery rhyme about the spider’s water spout and the ring of roses. Or is it the one with the sheep? I dunno, I think I get confused and sing a mixture of both.


“Just call me the nursery-rhyme rapper and bow down to my glory! Mwuhahahaha!”

Nine bursts out laughing while Connie tries to pull me into the nearest club to dance some more.


“Nope.” Arrie grabs us both by the waist and throws each of us over his shoulders, Connie on his left and me on his right. “Let’s get you to bed.”


“Yessss! Take me to bed. Grooooup orgy time!”


Dea and Nine give each other a look that clearly means something, but I have no idea what, while Connie just laughs and agrees, and Arrie mumbles something in a foreign language.


“Stop mumbling prof-f-fanities under your breath, big guy.”


“I wasn’t,” he whispers. “I was saying how much of a great idea that would be if you both weren’t flat-out drunk.”


“Yes, three votes for the orgy. I win. I win. I win.”


Everyone’s cringing at my stupid antics, but I’m having the time of my life.

That is until Arrie drops us both off at our hotel rooms and I have to run to the bathroom to throw up all of the evening’s happiness.


Ugh. More vomiting. Yay.


Aaaaaaand that's it! Sorry folks. But thank you for your support and cheering me on. It's been a crazy ride so far.


You can preorder book two here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08M9TQ8MC

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