Zane
COVER © ALESSIA BRIO

WORK-IN-PROGRESS

 

Purple Prosaic is a self-publishing label featuring the nocturnal emissions of eroticists Alessia Brio & Will Belegon.

ZANE

Life on the Revolutionary War frontier was hard enough without having it framed by not one, but two forbidden loves. Could Isaac Zane reconcile his desire for peace with his desire for passion, and could he do it without breaking the hearts of those he held dearest?

 

 HISTORICAL, TABOO (INCEST), INTERRACIAL, EXPLICIT ADULT FICTION

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EXCERPT

Blessed with crystal clear skies and a full moon, they had pressed on through the night, opting to finish the journey rather than make and strike camp yet another time. Sheíd soon be surrounded by her brothers. In no other place did she feel so loved, so appreciated, and so accepted. Betty found it difficult to forgive her mother for sending her away. She understood why the stern woman acted as she did, even if she did not agree with her decision.

After the many weeks of travel, Betty thought sheíd emotionally prepared herself to be reunited with family, but the crush of her brothers nearly overwhelmed her. They whooped and swept her off her feet in big bear hugs. "Betts!" shouted over and over amidst joyous laughter. All were now full-grown men, with families of their own, yet their reunion brought out the exuberant and rowdy adolescent behavior Betty so fondly remembered.

Ebenezer stood quietly to the side, arms crossed, smiling indulgently as Silas, Jonathan, and Andrew each greeted her with enthusiasm. He, being far too serious for that sort of display, allowed them their celebration before solemnly welcoming Betty home.

"Youíve grown into a beautiful woman, Betts. Weíll have a tough time keeping the randy frontiersmen away from you. Iím surprised you managed to escape Philadelphia without a husband."

"Oh, stop it, Eb!" she blushed. "Whereís Isaac? Why isnít he here?" Betty noticed the fifth, and youngest, brotherís absence immediately. Her question silenced the revelry, and for a few heart beats, Betty feared they knew. Only mother knew, she reminded herself. And mother would never, ever tell a soul.

"Injuns took Ďim, again, Betts," Silas, the oldest, finally admitted, "Not long after you left, actually. Iím surprised you didnít know of it. Did mother never mention Isaac in her letters?"

Bettyís world grew dark, and she did something she, until that very moment, believed only an affectation of the frail: she fainted. She regained consciousness in her motherís bedroom, swimming in fear. Ebís wife sat beside the bed and a young girl with stunning red hair paced impatiently.

"Fetch me some broth," Elizabeth instructed the girl, who hastened to oblige.

Betty waited until they were alone and accepted her sister-in-lawís embrace. "Why didnít you write me about Isaac?" she demanded, the pain making her voice crack. "Nothing would have prevented my immediate return."

"Thatís precisely what your mother said when she insisted I not to tell you, and Eb agreed. Iím sorry, Betts. I also thought it best that you be spared the news since there was really nothing you could do. The danger here cannot be denied. A handful of warriors came across the river in the night and took him straight from his bed. An obvious struggle, but no bloodshed. A hunting party tracked them for days, but returned saying they were sure the Indians would kill Isaac in any rescue attempt. It is widely held that that half-breed princess wanted him back. They say sheís very beautiful, and by all accounts, closely resembles you. Her mother was a French woman by way of Canada, Iím told."