A
Spartan Love
by Kayla Jameth
When I conceived of the idea for A Spartan Love a couple of
years ago, I had no idea that the story line would expand to become a trilogy.
In fact, the current novel entitled A Spartan Love began life as a short story called
Taming Theron and was intended to be the prequel/backstory for A Spartan Love.
Taming Theron began as a short story for an anthology.
However, no matter what I did, I couldn't keep the thing under the 7K limit.
Kind of like those cartoons when the box won't stay closed no matter how many
times they put the lid on it and jump up and down. I finally gave up and it is
now a 77K word novel.
It was just intended to give you the necessary background to
understand the subsequent novel, the original A Spartan Love. But that story
has grown until it will be two additional stories in the series: A Tested Love
and A Shared Love.
Why A Spartan Love? The title is actually a bit of a pun.
The story takes place in ancient Sparta, between an elite Spartan warrior known
as a kryptes and a unique Spartan
slave known as a helot. These two social
classes were natural enemies. Hence, any love between members of these classes
would be sparse at best.
Helots were unique to Sparta. Slaves in the ancient world
were chattel—possessions not persons. In Sparta, helots were more like medieval
serfs. They belonged to the land, not an individual, and could not be bought or
sold. The rural helots enjoyed a lot of freedoms, being able to wed and have
families without fear of being sold away from one another. As long as they
produced the required "tribute" every year for their Spartiate, they were pretty much left
alone.
The Spartans (citizens of the city-state, not just people
living in the polis) were vastly
outnumbered by the helot slave population. In order to keep the helots in check
and limit the possibility of a slave revolt, the ephors ritually declared war
on the helots every fall (after the harvest was in, of course). This allowed
any Spartan to kill any helot without risk of ritual pollution/bloodguilt and avoid
any resulting punishment for their deaths. Making it an act of war, not murder.
With nothing more than a knife and a cloak, the kryptes were
expected to learn stealth, how to live off the land, and steal anything they needed
to survive without being seen. But there was a darker side to all this scout
training—think Marines and Black Ops. The kryptes roamed the countryside and
killed any helots who looked too strong, were respected enough to be possible
leaders, and anyone they found outside after dark.
Now imagine, if you will, what would happen if a helot set
out to tame a kryptes.
(see what I mean about half-clothed? Yum!)
Paperback: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5630
Blurb:
Alone, Andreas toils on a remote farmstead for a Spartan
overlord. When a kryptes enters his world, Andreas fears for his life. The dread
warriors stalk and kill helots—like Andreas' father—as part of their training.
Andreas sees only one way to save himself: he must tame the
fearsome warrior.
But what began as self-preservation develops into
attraction. Yearning for the company of someone other than his ferret Ictis,
Andreas decides to trust the Spartan warrior and risk the fate that claimed his
father.
Born to rule by the sword, Theron sees the world as his and
acts accordingly, taking everything Andreas offers and reaching for more.
However, love between men in Sparta is considered shameful and requires either
exile or suicide to redeem Sparta’s honor. Now, only the gods can save them
from the terrible price Sparta extracts from men who desire other men.
Excerpt:
"ANDREAS! GET in
here right now. How many times do I have to tell you that the kryptes will kill you if they catch you outside
after dark?" He could hear
his mother's voice as if she were still alive, calling to him from the safety
of their house.
"I'm trying, Mother!" he muttered to her shade. He
would never forget that one of the Spartan warriors had slain his father for
nothing more than being a helot.
Andreas crossed his fingers and flicked them away from his heart in an attempt
to ward off a similar fate.
Andreas scanned his surroundings, his gaze veering between
his home and the tree line beyond the goats' enclosure. The mud-brick hut with
its tidy little garden dominated the otherwise smooth grounds. Silhouetted
against rosy clouds, safety beckoned. However, the encroaching darkness under
the trees drove a shiver up his spine.
He was all alone. Or hoped he was.
A spur of the forest behind him jutted between his house and
his nearest neighbor. Petros lived on the far side, his dwelling hidden from
Andreas' sight. Petros' family would already be safely bundled under their
roof, locked up tight as twilight approached. No helot was foolish enough to
brave the dark and risk death.
Even though the hut didn't look like much, Andreas wanted to
be within the shelter of his home.
But Pan, the aptly named offspring of mischief, had other
ideas. For some reason, when Andreas brought his flock home, the big buck had
resisted entering the enclosure. The rest of the goats were milling about,
following his obdurate example as the last of the daylight bled from the sky
and Andreas grew more desperate.
"Curse you, Pan! If you don't get in there, I'll have
you for dinner. How would you like that?" Knuckles white, he raised his
staff and shook it.
Almost as if he understood, Pan bolted inside the lean-to
with a startled bleat, his harem quick on his heels. Not a moment too soon.
Nerves pushed to the snapping point, Andreas might have been willing to leave
them to fend for themselves. He muttered imprecations as he shoved the brambles
into the opening, blocking their exit. Though disgruntled, he was glad he hadn't
been forced to choose between their well-being and his life.
Leaves rustled in the nearby forest despite the lack of so
much as a breath of wind, and Pan bleated uneasily. Andreas strained to hear
anything else, anything at all. What was out there? A rival buck? Wolves? One
of the kryptes?
Andreas shivered as cold sweat covered him. Please don't let it be one of the deadly
kryptes stalking me, intent on proving himself. The young warriors, the
best Sparta could produce, killed helots for sport and to hone their skills.
The final rays of sunlight faded, leaving muted colors and
hushed twilight in their wake, weighing down his heart with apprehension.
Andreas hoped the kryptes who had been haunting the area didn't consider sunset
to be the definition of "after dark." By decree, the warriors killed
any helot they encountered at night, holding the subjugated population in check
and using terror to quell any revolts before they started.
Glancing warily around, Andreas wondered if he could reach
his home before being attacked. It isn't
dark yet. I can be inside before the last light fades. He couldn't see
anyone, but a good kryptes would be nigh impossible to spot. Drawing a deep
breath, he sprinted toward the hut, his heart pounding.
Nearly there! A
branch snapped, and he lost his footing as he attempted to look over his
shoulder. He scrambled to get on his feet and back inside before….
In his mind's eye, a red-cloaked figure strode calmly up
behind him, a sword held in one fist. "Theos
save me!"
Andreas made the last bit on his hands and knees, too shaken
to regain his feet. The statue of Priapos with its obscenely large phallus
jutting before him guarded his doorway. The god stood ready to protect this
boundary against any trespassers, wielding his prodigious cock like a club.
Having never been in this position before, Andreas had no idea if the deity
would be able to protect him.
He clawed at the door for a moment before he managed to slip
inside. Back pressed to the thick mud-brick wall, he forced himself to draw one
deep shuddering breath after another.
The sound of another twig snapping came through his open
window.
Oh Hades! Someone is out there.
| About the Author: Kayla Jameth grew up on the family farm in Ohio. An unrepentant tomboy, she baled hay and raised cattle, and her father taught her to weld before she graduated from high school. She attended Cleveland’s Case Western Reserve University and later, Texas A&M University in her pursuit of veterinary medicine, taking her far away from her rural roots. But it wasn’t all hard work for her, her sojourn as the princess of the Celestial Kingdom left her with the title “Sir” and a costume closet the envy of many knights, lords, and ladies. After declaring for years that she was not an author, Kayla now finds herself writing m/m erotic romance outside of Houston, Texas. While you can take the girl out of the country, you can’t turn her into a city slicker. Kayla would still rather be outside getting down and dirty with the boys. She shares a full house with her favorite animals: a cat, two guinea pigs, a gerbil, three guppies, as well as her husband, son, and daughter. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.Kayla.Jameth Twitter: https://twitter.com/KaylaJameth Blog: http://kaylajameth.blogspot.com/ E-mail: KaylaJameth@hotmail.com |
It was lovely having the chance to meet you and a slew of other DSP authors, editors, and cover artists in Portland. The ink hadn't dried on the contract when I signed up for that workshop. I was so excited!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for offering to host me back in April. A Spartan Love has come so far in that time even some of my beta readers might be surprised.