Book Title: Sweating Lies (Lies #1): Criminal Delights – Taken
Author: Emma Jaye
Publisher: Purindoors Publications
Cover Artist: Natasha Snow
Genre/s: Contemporary M/M Thriller/Romance
Trope/s: Enemies to lovers, Protector, Tortured hero.
Themes: Crime, Slavery, Mental Health Issues, Dominance, Abduction.
Length: 81 000 words
Release Date: April 28, 2019
Blurb
“Gladiator or toy?” Kaspar asks, as if it’s the easiest choice in the world.
It might be an easy answer for someone branded, brainwashed, and who remembers no other life. But that’s not me, not yet anyway. I’m a cop—or at least I was until my cover got blown.
Now, I’m one of the trafficked people I vowed to save.
Kaspar’s a toy —a pleasure slave— content to warm our sadistic owner’s bed; he laps up the abuse he’s conditioned to associate with affection.
He’s my only way out. To gain our freedom, I must play the hardest undercover role of my career and be everything his fractured mind needs: a more controlling bastard than the man who turns people into grateful slaves for a living.
Officer Jiao Sweatt thinks I’m a victim.
He has a lot to learn.
And it’ll hurt.
This book is part of CRIMINAL DELIGHTS. Each novel can be read as a standalone and contains a dark M/M romance.
Warning: These books are for adult readers who enjoy stories where lines between right and wrong get blurry. High heat, twisted and tantalizing, these are not for the fainthearted.
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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited
People ask what’s your writing process, so I thought I’d tell you how one specific book, ‘Sweating Lies’ came into the world.
Sweating lies and its sequel, Splitting Lies, are part of the Criminal Delights collection. Although it’s the first collection I’ve written in, I’ve done a few anthologies in the past. I’ve found the process a little different to my normal writing journey, but it’s been a great experience.
The only theme we had was that they should be ‘dark’ m/m romances in one of five categories, Taken, Obsession, Organized Crime, Serial Killers and Assassins.
As usual, I’m a bit of a ‘pantser’ writer rather than a plotter, so I picked the ‘Taken’ theme and started with the idea of an undercover cop investigating people trafficking becoming a victim, but that was about all. As usual, I wanted my character to be a little out of the ordinary, so rather than making him huge and ripped, I made him a short Asian guy, but Jiao is still pretty bad ass.
While researching human slavery, I found a curious military near-cult, who recruited new members vis what they called a ‘blood tax’. Christian boys were taken in war tribute, converted to Islam and served in ortas, regiments of the Ottoman empire. This provided my first ‘what if’ moment. What if a secret orta survived into modern times and illegally continued the traditional blood tax?
So, I had a law-abiding, badass investigator, slap bang in the middle of a cult who turned boys into pleasure slaves (I 100% made that part up – but I had to get the naughty bits in there somewhere) and older men into gladiators and mercenaries.
Jiao’s love interest proved far more difficult to pin down. At first, I had the big boss of the orta falling for him, and either Jiao turning Vladimir good, or Vladimir turning Jiao evil, all in the name of love, sigh. Sweet right? Yeah, but also rather predictable.
As I went through the motions of writing the story, a character I initially intended to be a minor character, the existing trained pleasure slave of Vladimir started whispering in my ear more and more. Subservient to those in command, wickedly sarcastic, flirty and cold to the newly captured recruits or ‘acemi’. As Jiao became more intrigued by this character and his odd, inconsistent behavior, so did I. What does the ultimate companion do to entertain and serve his master?
I grimaced, pulled faces, and scratched my head along with Jiao as I tried to work out what was going on in Kaspar’s head while both dealt with the abuse being dished out by the slavers. You do NOT want to know what they do with cattle prods. Or maybe you do, if you’re anything like me.
How could Kaspar be happy in such an environment, where mutilation and abuse were daily events? Was he actually happy, or was he faking? Perhaps he’d faked it for so long, that he actually believes the motto ‘everything for the orta’? Or maybe he started off as genuine masochist? Jiao doesn’t think so. And who had he been before ending up in the hands of the orta? The other new recruits tell Jiao about their pasts, Kaspar refuses to answer any questions about himself.
With a whoop, a yell, and a yeah baby yeah, I disappeared down a rabbit hole of centuries-old military traditions, brainwashing, MMA fighting, mental illness, abuse, hot men, virtuoso violin playing and a clash of iron wills. Did I mention the hot men?
Victim or abuser? Jiao isn’t sure which applies to Kaspar, but the man fascinates him, nearly as much as they both fascinated me.
I thoroughly enjoyed writing both these books, once, like Jiao, I gave up trying to put Kaspar in a pidgeon hole and just enjoyed the show.
He accepted, absorbed, and floated in the serenity of obedience. His physical pain became walled up in a corner of his mind. The only thing that mattered was his master’s will.
“Fuck, I didn’t see you down there. Why didn’t you say something?”
“It’s not my place to disturb my master.”
Jiao frowned. “Don’t call me that. I’m nobody’s master, and you’re nobody’s slave, Kaspar. Come on, up you get. You don’t have to kneel to me.”
Kaspar didn’t move. He didn’t know if he could get up, but they needed to establish something first.
“I do have a master, and right now, it’s you.” He handed Officer Sweatt the Chorbaji’s note. He hoped Officer Sweatt wouldn’t mind that it was a little damp and crumpled from being in his hand all this time.
Jiao glanced at it and scowled. “Well then, as your master, I order you not to kneel to me.”
Kaspar didn’t resist smiling. A pet’s duty was to adapt to his master’s needs. Officer Sweatt clearly liked teasing, playfulness, that he could do.
“That’s going to make blow jobs a little uncomfortable, but–”
“You don’t have to do that either; now get up and talk to me like a man.”
“Can’t men kneel?”
“Just get up, will you? You make me feel uncomfortable.”
That got him moving. Making your master uncomfortable, unless it was to entice him to pleasure, was not good pet behavior. He tried for his normal graceful, hands-free stand, but ended up on his ass; his sore, bruised, battered, and cut ass. Rolling to his side he sucked in a breath, trying to contain the bright flare of pain while expected a kick for his lack of grace.
“Shit, how long were you down there? Never mind.”
With surprising strength, his new master lifted him to his feet, one hand on his bicep, one across his chest, under the brands, and helped him limp across to the bed. He climbed up and lay on his side, head resting on one fist while he balanced himself with the other in front of him. He hoped he looked at least a little enticing. Flirty and playful, that’s what had put a smile on his new master’s face in the gym.
“You’ve been on a drip.” Jiao nodded toward the small cotton ball taped to his inner arm.
“Not a lot gets past you, does it, Ma–” he paused at Jiao’s frown. “Well, what would you like me to call you? Sir? Officer Sweatt? Chief? Boss? Please, don’t say Daddy, anything but–”
“Would you shut up?”
Kaspar’s mouth snapped shut. At least he’d got him to give an order.
A hand pushed through the inky black hair. “Look, Jiao is fine. I got called ‘Sweaty’ enough as a kid never want to hear ‘Sweatt’ again.”
Kaspar frowned. “I’d never call you that, and your first name hardly seems respectful. I–”
“This is important to you, isn’t it?”
Kaspar’s frown deepened. Understanding this new master was a challenge. “Of course it is. The higher the status of my mas–” he paused, grinning “–special friend, the higher I–.”
As he spoke, his new master grabbed a bathrobe from the back of the bathroom door and draped it over him.
Humiliation hammered. He dropped his forehead to the mattress. He was useless, unworthy, and unwanted. He disgusted this man he had been instructed to please. His failures swirled and thickened in his mind like fog.
You deserved what Azur did to you; he should have finished it. Put you down like a useless old dog.
I have a reputation for writing dark, angst filled stories in a swathe of genres, from Sci-fi and paranormal, to contemporary romance and erotica with m/f, m/m and multiple partners. I blame my rebellious muse (who looks like Chris from the Paint Series) for the erotic aspects tickling the angst, and the humour cuddling up with the erotic. You’ll find all this and more in my books! No matter the genre, I can promise different characters, dark themes, steamin’ sex, laughs and a HEA or HFN.
When I’m not writing or reading, in leafy Sussex, England, I herd Birman cats and sons. Both groups argue that the other is too large.
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