Blurb:
They may be back on British soil, but the battle
isn’t over.
When Captain Hugh
Wilkes fell for his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, he always knew things
would never be easy. After months of complete secrecy, their return to England
should have spelt an end to the sneaking around and the insane risks. But it
seems there are many obstacles for them to overcome before they can truly be happy
together. Can they get past those obstacles, or is this one battle too many for
their fledgling relationship?
Author’s note:
Although this story does work as a standalone tale, it’s recommended that you
read the first instalment of the characters’ journey first—Desert
Heat, which is available from all good retailers.
**For those of you that
haven’t yet read Desert Heat either, there’s a great value double pack containing
both books available exclusively on Amazon (from 14th May), which is available for lending, and for
Kindle Unlimited members: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/desert-heat-native-tongue/
**
*****
Read an excerpt:
Captain Hugh Wilkes
drummed enthusiastically on the steering wheel of his car as he drove it up the
M3 towards London. He sung loudly and tunelessly along to the song on the
radio, too, but it didn’t matter. No one could hear him.
He’d surprised himself
by being so chilled out about the volume of Friday evening traffic. He wasn’t
the most patient of people, so the slow progress should probably have been
increasing his blood pressure, if not leading to full on road rage. But,
although he’d have loved to be actually achieving the speed limit, not bumbling
along at a mere fifty miles per hour, Wilkes was just glad the traffic was
moving at all. Britain’s roads, the motorways in particular, soon came to a
standstill if there was so much as a tiny bump between two vehicles. So any
progress was better than none.
Besides, what could he
do about it? His only other options to get to London from his base in Wiltshire
were a train, or stealing a plane, helicopter or tank. The latter might just
cause a little bit of bother, and mean the end of his army career, not to
mention criminal charges. The former meant cramming in amongst sweaty,
disgruntled commuters. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d be charged an extortionate
amount to do so, probably wouldn’t even get a seat, and would likely be
subjected to delays.
At least driving took
him from door to door, with plenty of personal space. And if there were delays,
well, he could sit them out from the comfort of his own vehicle, with the
climate control set to the perfect temperature, and the radio blasting some of
his favourite tunes.
The next song was even
better, and Wilkes’ tuneless wailing became more enthusiastic, as did the
drumming on the steering wheel. He was in one hell of a good mood, and if he
was truthful with himself, he knew it wasn’t just the fact the M3 was moving at
a nice pace. It wasn’t the Friday feeling, either. Sure, both of those things
were contributing to his happiness, but the main reason he was grinning like a
buffoon was the thought of what awaited him in the capital. Or rather, who.
Rustam Balkhi. His
gorgeous Afghan boyfriend, whom he’d met out in Afghanistan while they were
working together for the British Army. Now, with their tour of duty over and
the forces’ presence pulled out of the country, the two men had returned to
England. Wilkes had gone back to his regular army life in Bulford Camp, near
Salisbury. Balkhi was in London, where he’d recommenced the medical training
he’d postponed to become an interpreter for the Brits.
The past few weeks had
been somewhat of a whirlwind. Wilkes’ return to the UK had been
straightforward, but Balkhi had had to jump through some hoops in order to get
back onto his medical course. He’d been willing to start from scratch, but it’d
seemed like an awful waste of time, so Wilkes had spoken to his superiors,
who’d explained to the university what important work Balkhi had been doing.
Fortunately, they’d been persuaded of Balkhi’s commitment and character, and
allowed him to pick up where he’d left off. That settled, Balkhi had to pack
up, travel back to the UK, find somewhere to live, move in… and all before the
start of the next academic term.
Wilkes had felt
terrible. His return had taken place a few weeks before Balkhi’s, so although
he’d been granted some leave for R&R, he hadn’t been able to either spend
it with Balkhi, or to use it help him with his relocation. By the time Balkhi
had set foot on British soil, Wilkes was back to work. And, given nobody knew
about the two of them, or even that Wilkes was gay, he couldn’t exactly ask for
more leave in order to help his boyfriend move into his new flat.
Life had conspired
against them ever since, so this was the first opportunity they’d had to see
each other since saying goodbye in Afghanistan all those weeks ago. They’d
communicated via email, text message and phone calls, but it just wasn’t the
same. Especially since they’d gone from seeing each other every single day for
the best part of six months to not setting eyes on each other for weeks on end.
Wilkes had struggled
terribly in the interim. Life had been tough enough while they were still out
in the desert. After weeks and weeks of trying desperately to ignore their
growing attraction, they’d finally given in to it. It had been stupid and
risky, but, having quickly realised there was more to their attraction than the
physical, they’d decided to carry on their relationship in secret while they
were in Afghanistan, see how it went, and figure things out once Wilkes’ tour
of duty was over. Balkhi had always intended to return to the UK for his
studies, so they would, at least, be living in the same country.
*****
Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is a
very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of
subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many
more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica,
Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her
bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and
also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join
her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her
newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
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