Ryland's Sacrifice

 Title: Ryland's Sacrifice
 
 Series: Thrown to the Lions - Book 1.

 Genre: Male/Male, BDSM, Werewolf, Erotic Romance

 Length: Novel (40,000 words)

 Publisher: Resplendence Publishing

 Release Date: February 2010 - Available now.
 
 
  




 

 

 Here's the blurb:

 
Principles don’t pay tuition fees. When Ryland’s math scholarship disappears overnight, he has two choices. He can borrow money from fellow student Jason Burrows, who has very interesting ways of collecting debts. Or, he can volunteer to be thrown to the werelions.
 
 
One night spent playing the part of a willing human sacrifice will give him enough money to finish his PhD. It seems like a good deal—right up until the moment he finds himself naked, blindfolded, bound and surrounded by lions.
 

 
And here's a quick excerpt:
 
He wasn’t completely naked. Ryland Gilford silently repeated the fact over and over inside his head. Even though it was technically true, it did little to reassure him.
 
By his careful estimations, sixteen square inches of his skin were hidden away. Unfortunately, neither the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists, nor the blindfold over his eyes, concealed any of those parts of his anatomy he generally preferred to keep covered in the presence of strangers.
 
The car lurched to a sudden stop. The seat belt tightened across Ryland’s chest as he was flung forward. His bound arms dug into his spine as he was tossed back against the seat again.
 
Dragging a deep lungful of air into his body, Ryland scrambled for a different, more effective, mantra—one that didn’t remind him he was stark bollock naked every two seconds.
 
Text books cost money? That was more promising. Maybe, if he concentrated very hard on remembering why he’d agreed to do something so blatantly, bloody stupid, he’d somehow manage to survive the night with some little part of his sanity intact.
 
Text books cost money. Tuition fees have to be paid. Rent money has to be found. Enough spare change to buy a meal or two during the next academic year would be nice, too.
 
Remembering those facts helped a little, but it wasn’t enough. Ryland still felt sick to his stomach. The car turned a sharp corner. He swayed in his seat before finally managing to right himself. The chauffeur’s driving really wasn’t helping his efforts not to give way to nervous nausea.
 
Still it was better than being driven around by one of Jason Burrows’ drivers…
 
Ryland took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Yes, that was what he really needed to remember. Sacrificing his principles this way might make his skin crawl, but it was still better than putting himself into the hands of the only man at the university who might be willing to lend money to a doctorial math student whose scholarship had vanished into the murky depths of the recession.
 
He’d heard all about the way Jason Burrows called in his debts. The rumors made him out to be very inventive in certain areas. Anything had to be better than that—even this.
 
The car lurched to a stop once more. Silence filled the world as the driver killed the engine. Ryland’s breath caught in his throat as he realized this wasn’t just another set of traffic lights.
 
From the darkness behind his blindfold, he heard the driver get out of the car. The door next to him was thrown open. Cold air rushed into the claustrophobic little space. Clothes brushed against his bare skin as someone leaned in and undid his seatbelt. The driver’s breath caressed his neck.
 
Ryland tried to press himself further back against the seat. The buckles on the leather cuffs stabbed him in the back. A second later, a calloused hand caught hold of his arm and dragged him unceremoniously out of the car. He stumbled as he tried to get his balance. The chauffeur took no notice.
 
Gravel crunched under the other man’s shoes and bit into Ryland’s bare feet as he was marched forward. They stopped as suddenly as they started. A jerk on Ryland’s arm kept him upright when he’d have stumbled. It damn near wrenched his shoulder out of the socket too.
 
A door bell rang in the distance. The driver let go of his arm. Ryland rolled his shoulder as much as his restraints would allow, as if the fact someone had set his shoulder on fire was the only thing he needed to be worried about right then.
 
Footsteps stomped over the gravel once more, growing fainter as they moved further away from him.
 
“Where are you going?” Ryland silently cursed himself. He really hadn’t intended to sound that way, but the words already hung in the cool evening air. It was too late to wish they’d been braver.
 
A car started up. Ryland turned toward it. “What the—” He opened and closed his mouth a few times. No other words materialized.
 
No one had said anything about him being left on a doorstep like a sodding parcel. Some frightened little part of him knew there were a hell of a lot of details he probably should have checked before he launched himself into this stupid mess. If he’d believed himself capable of finding out those sorts of particulars and still going through with it, he was sure he’d have asked every single one of the right questions.
 
Pity, then, that he was well aware that he wasn’t that kind of man. If he’d let himself find out too much about the horrible little charade, he wouldn’t have entered into it calm and well informed. He’d have run away before anyone had a chance to strip him down and lock those idiotic cuffs around his wrists.
 
And what would he have done then? Borrow the money from Jason Burrows? Drop out and prove his parents had been right when they’d said he’d never get through his degrees without crawling back to them and begging for their help.
 
A cool breeze danced over Ryland’s skin, reminding him it was far too late to wish things were different. A shiver raced down his spine. The evening air seemed to have a mind of its own. It concentrated all its efforts on blowing against his exposed cock, apparently rather amused by the fact that he couldn’t put his hands in front of his body, that he couldn’t even see and find a bush to hide behind. Silence surrounded him, leaving him in no doubt he was alone in some nameless person’s driveway.
 
“Please, God, let it be the right house,” he whispered to himself. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Please, don’t let it belong to some nice little old lady who’s going to phone the police and demand they come and arrest the flasher lurking in her front garden.
 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re in the right place.” The words were purred just a few inches from his ear. Ryland spun around, as if the blindfold might conveniently disappear and allow him to see his…his attacker? One of his owners for the rest of the night?
 
The heat radiating from a warm body confirmed the speaker stood within inches of him. He barely had time to register that fact before a naked body brushed against him. Ryland stumbled away from it. An embarrassing little yelp escaped from the back of his throat as he discovered another, equally naked, man behind him. Surrounded by bare skin, he twisted around, searching blindly for an escape route.