To Snatch A Thief - Book 7 of...
Ryan Andrews, Randi Holiday
Jane enters a stealth video game to discover she’s not sneaky at all. Even her entry is clumsy as she falls onto the dinner table to offend a group of tool worshiping zealots. She's dragged off to the stocks and lucky for her, there’s a thief lurking about with a score to settle. The man admits he’s no hero, but he’ll rescue her…for a price.
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
As she fell, the anticipation of a painful landing had Jane on edge. Injuries healed fast in the game world, but that didn't mean landing on a pitchfork wouldn't hurt. That was what nearly happened in the last game she'd traveled into. It had been a very close call.
The fall into the game world lasted long enough for her to grow overly anxious. As a light finally shone up from below, she screamed just before crashing down onto the middle of a huge trestle table, breaking dishes and causing food to fly up.
"Ow! That was the most painful landing yet!" she groaned, rolling onto her back to catch her breath.
She glanced around and saw that she wasn't alone. The table was surrounded by surprised men, all built like laborers and wearing red hooded uniforms topped with steel armor. Some of them had their forks halfway to their mouths frozen in surprise, some had stood up and stepped back, and all of them looked unpleasantly angry.
"Sorry. Did I interrupt your dinner? Where the heck am I, anyway?" she asked sitting up and brushing herself off.
"Who are you?" demanded the largest, standing up and pushing his steel helm back. “You are dressed like a harlot without modesty as befits a woman of the faith! You swear, you make eye contact boldly, you do not belong!" His beard bristled with anger as he gestured to two burly acolytes who grabbed her arms and hauled her off the table.
Even though Jane tried to pull away from them, they easily dragged her out of the room and down an ancient corridor lit by smoking oil lamps. “What crawled up his bum? Just hold on a minute. Jeeze. Could you two lighten up? Your grip is kind of tight, and it's not like I'm going to overpower two gorillas,” she complained, looking around.
The place was very eclectic, with water dripping down the walls in places, yet in other spots there were elegant tapestries and displays where you'd typically find artifacts. However, these exhibit cases contained hammers and other tools.
"Who the heck did you hire to decorate for you? Your freaking mechanic?" When they ignored her, Jane rolled her eyes. It was very refreshing to take her frustrations out on someone and she continued to let the insults fly as they bruised her arms with their iron grips. “Oh, I see. It's going to be one of these games…where I'm grabbed up by a bunch of dickheads,” she ranted.
The men hauled her into a stone cell, forcing her head and wrists into metal stocks, the edges lined with leather. She gasped as they tore her clothes off unceremoniously, dropping them into a brazier to be destroyed in the fire.
"Those were my work clothes!" she complained, struggling to pull out of the medieval contraption they'd shoved her into.
"Lace and silks are not suitable for women,” the abbot bellowed behind her, slapping her rounded rump hard.
She cried out in surprise, because she wasn't a big fan of being spanked. “Well who the heck is supposed to wear them then? You?" she asked, eyeing his long robe. “I bet you've got stockings on under there, don't you?"
He ignored her taunts, stroking a hand up her leg. “Shaving your body incites lust, you are immodest and must be corrected!"
He stormed around in front of her and drew a whip, throwing it to one of the subordinates. Jane's eyes widened in terror and before she could even scream, they cracked it expertly, drawing a series of parallel lines across the curve of her buttocks from thigh to back.