Today, I am hosting award-winning author Miriam Newman’s latest release Caravanserai, book seven in The Chronicles of Alcinia series, a historical fantasy romance. Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway.
Blurb: Her grandmother’s dying words launch Serafina on a quest to find her unknown father. Unable to accept the love of a childhood friend, she nevertheless accepts his company on her journey, but what they discover may lead to a quick trip to an enemy prison.
No one troubled her as she entered timidly, borne along by a press of women and girls. Men apparently used one on the other side of the long building that housed public baths and toilets. They were utilitarian, but relatively clean, with numerous attendants to take and hold the women’s clothing for a small coin, and Serafina used them, blanching at the necessity but going down into the water with the small vial of oil from the oasis.
Two naked, unconcerned girls smiled at her, speaking to her in a language she didn’t understand, so that all she could do was smile back and shrug.
“You speak Omani?” One of them switched.
She was relieved. “Yes.”
“You are new?”
Both girls were heavily made up, their eyes outlined with kohl, their hair shiny with oil they were careful not to wash out. The one speaking to her bore tattoos in blue ink that Serafina viewed, fascinated. Roses bloomed and serpents twined up her arms. Domidian women did not wear them. It was forbidden.
“I am Rutka,” she said. “This is my friend Laisa. You wish to make money?”
“I have a job,” Serafina replied.
“Ooh, la,” Rutka said, smiling to take the sting from her expression. “Well, if you want more, the mistress of our house pays well.”
“What kind of house?” she asked suspiciously.
Rutka winked at her. “You know what kind. You have pretty eyes. Men will pay for those.”
“I am married,” Serafina lied.
The other girl was sublimely unconcerned. “Your husband likes money, yes? You will make more in a night than you make in a month anywhere else.”
“He will not let me.” Serafina oiled herself vigorously, feeling it wise to cut this conversation short.
“Well, if you change his mind tonight, come to our house beside the Temple of Memory.”
There was a brothel beside a temple? Well, this was Omana.
“Tell them I sent you,” Rutka went on. “I will get a cut.”
GET THE REST OF THE SERIES HERE!
**Book 1 is FREE, the rest are on sale for only $1.99!**
Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance.
Currently, I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. You can see my books at http://www.miriamnewman.com.
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