Reaper Zone Chapter 21 (Crushed Skull & Crossbones Book 3)

Now i'm wondering if I should cheat and go to this one? How good is it? Will me skipping kill the overall series? They say patience is a virtue, but maybe I don't have patience tied down yet. Marianne Oh good, then I am not the only one thinking of this. I just finished book 1 and I absolutely loved the story of Horse and Marie. I always liked Em …more Oh good, then I am not the only one thinking of this. I always liked Em and I wanted her to find her man. I am thinking of skipping book 2 and get started with book 3. What did you think of book 2? Can this be read as a standalone, or should I read the other 2 books first?

Mariana Yes, you can read it as a standalone. The story is paced differently than the other books and the romance is very different from the others. More …more Yes, you can read it as a standalone. More sweet, I guess. See all 6 questions about Devil's Game…. Lists with This Book. Now I know that may not be saying much considering that many of you barely tolerated Marie and Sophie, but listen to me, people.

Em was the shit! I had hoped that she would bring her A game considering she's the darling daughter of Picnic, the MC president. She grew up in the life, she better be kick ass. But I also had my reservations considering how passive she's been, particularly with her father's rules in the previous two books. It's safe to say that not only did Em meet all my expectations, she blew them out of the fucking water.

I shit you not, people. Girl not only had a backbone, but knew how to kick ass and take names Em is pining away after Painter, while Painter is too much of a chicken shit to really do anything about it. She's about ready to give up on him. What's a 22 year old woman got to do to get rid of her virginity already? The pesky fucking thing. Let's go with that then. Enter stage right, Liam "Hunter" Blake, and Em's life changes in one night. Liam is a member of a rival club, but that hasn't stopped him from wanting her since the first time he saw her.

Romeo and Juliet the MC version anyone? Now the perfect opportunity shows itself. Seduce the Reaper's little princess and help his club? He's all over it What do you mean, you haven't had sex? Sex," she told me, spacing out her words carefully. You got a problem with that? Because you're looking at me like I've got herpes and that's not working for me. If you recall the events from book 2, then you know how everything went down and I won't spoiler it for those who haven't read it yet. What you've been dying to know is what happens after?

And I'm not going to tell you either. But I can give you some hints. Em still wants Hunter, even though he's a traitorous asshole. He also happens to be the asshole that makes her womb clench. So, what do you think? I"m not a little girl who needs protection, Hunter. I know what I want.

Just lay back and relax, because it's not personal. I'm going to borrow your dick for a while. I'm pretty sure she still wants you. He was everything you would want and more. He's got that in spades. That definitely comes out on more than one occasion. You bet your sweet ass he is. Although this book isn't as heavy at least not in my humble pervy opinion on the steam as the previous two books, it still packed a punch. I loved the character and story development.

It had just the perfect amount of smut to add to the mix without overcooking the story. There was action, suspense, more action, and some sweet sweet biker loving. Did I also happen to mention Em's kick-assedness? I'm making that a word. Work with me here This was my favorite book in the series so far, and I am practically panting for more.

I'm not even kidding. Joanna, you are a freaking sadist for giving us that teenie tiny sneak peek into Picnic and now making us wait till September. I've been salivating for his book forever and the wait till September just may kill me. So fair warning here, Jo Writing Style: View all comments. The first book was a little strange and was not sure. Than the 2nd book and this loved. Picnic well I R wrote: Picnic well I think he will be a loyal romantic guy.

I'm adding kick-assedness to my everyday vocabulary ; " Better late than never, right? I only saw these comments now. MC books are so hot. Jun 01, Dec 25, Christy rated it it was amazing. By far the best book of this series so far. I love a series that gets better and better with each book. I love biker books that have a little grit, but a lot of sexy scenes and humor.

The daughter of the president and a biker on the rise to the top of the ranks. Em is the daughter of Picnic. Picnic i 5 stars!! Picnic is the president of the Reapers MC. Em is kick ass. Picnic is a bit You will notice that when you see her first day of high school replayed. We start with Em wanting to get rid of her virginity. She is a virgin for one main reason. No one wants to cross Picnic. It was hard to date anyone with a dad like that. Dad was well and truly cock-blocking me, and it was bullshit. Then she meets Liam Blake. A guy who seems to be the entire package.

After texting and talking to him for months, Em is ready to take the plunge. Liam and Em have a complicated relationship. Another thing I loved about this was the dual pov. Em is one of the most delightful and likable heroines ever. Em had me laughing so hard so many times. Even when she was most upset with Liam, she still decided she wanted him.

She was no push over and I adored that she showed him she was a force to be reckoned with. They usually piss me off in a big way for some reason or another even though I love them but Liam was amazing. He did something that not many bikers would dream of doing and it made me not only love him more, but respect him big time. Seeing his background, where he came from and how he grew up, made me understand him that much more.

I loved his loyalty, his protectiveness, and the way he learned to love. Another character I have to mention is Picnic. Picnic has lost a lot, but he still has his girls who he loves fiercely and would do anything for. You remember that, all right? Will the love they feel be enough for them to make it?

Or were they doomed from the start? Liam and Em both have to sacrifice a lot to be with each other. The writing is amazing, the characters are all fantastic and lovable, and the plot was fast paced and interesting. The story captivated me from the start and there was never a dull moment. This was a real winner for me. Highly recommended by yours truly! View all 95 comments. Anna i didnt read the first two yet Aug 05, I love this book!

It's full of all the things that I enjoy when reading a edgy romance. It has a tightly constructed and compelling plot, intelligent and humorous dialogue, and characters so richly developed they feel authentic and tangible. This story has a slightly different feel from the first two book, as the heroine, Em, was born and raised in the MC world and understood exactly what that entailed.

She brought an enlightened perspective to the lifestyle. I absolutely adored Em's character. She was tough as nails, endearing, courageous, determined, and completely down to earth. She's a character that's easy to love and hard to forget. I also loved Hunter. He's jaded, cocky, and has a devil-may-care attitude. He's everything I love in a bad boy with a hidden golden heart. My favorite aspect of this story was the relationship between Hunter and Em.

Not only did these two have incredible chemistry—which made for delightful interactions and heated love scenes—but they were such a force to be reckoned with. Their commitment and love for each other was a breath of fresh air. There is nothing better than a couple who unite and stand by each other through thick and thin. Devil's Game is a fantastic book filled with a perfect blend of grit, angst, steam, humor, action, and romance. From start to finish, this story had my full attention and I had a hard time putting it down.

This is a book I would definitely read again. If you enjoy raw and gritty reads that give a fairly realistic and frighteningly compelling look into the outlaw biker world, then I highly recommend this series. View all 79 comments. Sep 30, Kristen Thank you so much, hon. Em is the daughter of Picnic, president of the Reapers MC. Hunter will defend his club from their oldest enemies, the Reapers, using whatever weapons he can find. And Em is the perfect weapon. Can't wait for this. Nooo, I can't wait that long. I need this sooner. View all 24 comments. This is by far the best book of this series!!!

I really loved all the books but this one was so unique!! I freaking loved it!!! This book was completely unexpected and different in a good way! I couldn't guess how it would end!! It kept my interest until the end!!! This is the story of Emmy and Hunter Two motorcycle clubs which are enemies What will happen with the motorcycle clubs?

Are they going to unite for the common good, or they're going to war? Em is nothing like the typical female characters in the other Reaper books!! She is such a kickass!! I really loved her!! I think I have a crash in her!! She doesn't afraid to get involved with a biker!! She knows how it works and what it means to grow up around bikers. She is strong and she doesn't afraid!! I find her an enjoyable character!! He is so hot!! I couldn't resist him! Em and Hunter were perfect together!! The chemistry between them was off the charts! Hunter became the man that Em needed!!

Together they managed to get through a lot in order to come out in the end.. I won't be sharing you,I won't be leaving you, and I sure as fuck won't let the Reapers take you away from me. I loved her writing!! She managed to make her characters so real!! It was definately worth the wait!! I want to see what will happen in Picnic's book!! I highly recommend it!!!

View all 55 comments. Beverly Fantastic review and images Pavlina! Jun 25, This book was the best of the series so far! I loved the first two books but this one Wow! Damn I think I have a Girl Crush. She made the book for me Damn she was kickass She was funny, sexy, strong, and just totally kick ass for real This book would get 5 stars just for her alone! I dropped my hand lower and gripped his cock firmly through the front of his jeans. Hard as a rock, and good-sized, too. Total waste, so far as I was concerned. So sorry, but you lose. Eat shit and die, Painter.

Man enough to stand up to Em's dad The sexy forbidden bad boy. If he has a problem with that, you hand him off to me. Nobody gets between us. You got my full support, babe, but I draw the line at texting hugs. They have alot of problems to overcome but damn they are so good together. Their relationship is strong and is built up well in the book and it pulls you in and you buy their love you can feel it.

It feels real and that is what makes a great love story. Their first time together was So Dayum good This book very funny too there was parts where I was laughin so hard I was tearing up Are those ingrown hairs? View all 19 comments. Nov 04, Lady Vigilante Feifei rated it really liked it Shelves: But I am leaning more towards 4. Joanna Wylde rocked it!

A good portion of book 2 really set up the basis of thi For me, however, that was perfect; since I already knew of Hunter and Em from book 2, I liked that this book was sort of a continuation and not a rehash of the same details — she gave us a totally different perspective despite going through similar timelines from book 2.

I think her character truly made this book shine — I usually side with heroes all the time and find issues with the heroines, but Em was just flawless! She deserves a 5 star standing ovation! My feelings for this guy were all over the place. But does he make up for them? Yes, he does, and although I wanted him to man-up faster than he did here, his unwavering devotion and loyalty to Em is undeniable.

Love is not a term easily thrown around in the world of bikers, but who needs words when his actions far surpass them? ARC provided by the author via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This time it was a hit - I didn't bail or DNF on y'all ; View all 77 comments. Kristen I love your review, Feifei. I agree with everything you said. Mar 09, Debra rated it it was amazing Shelves: A modern day Romeo and Juliet Devil's Game by Joanna Wylde was one of my most anticipated new releases of the year.

I already loved the first book in this series, the second one was even better but I think it's safe to say this book is my favorite of them all thus far. The problem I had with the previous two books is that I didn't always like the heroine all that much, but Em? Well, she rocks it in the heroine department. She's fierce, sassy, sarcastic and strong and she completely holds her own against the wickedly handsome and dominating bad boy Liam a.

We already met Em and Liam in the previous book Reaper's Legacy. Em is the 22 year old daughter of the Reapers Motorcycle Club president Picnic. Growing up in a club full of big scary bikers and a overprotective dad hasn't been easy for her. She loves the club and the values they represent but sometimes she just wants to be able to be free from all the rules and constant hovering of her father.

He's made it almost impossible for her to date, what with scaring off potential candidates with threats and acts of violence. As frustrating as his tactics may be, he does have good motives And well, if you've read the Reaper's Legacy , you already know how their first meeting went and how Liam has his own ulterior motives for getting in touch with Em. Em and Liam together? Well, they're, in one word, explosive. Both inside the bedroom and out if it. They're both stubborn, hot headed and because of trust issues they both have a hard time expressing their true feelings.

They fight, they make up, then they fight some more and then make up once again. But through it all they also build up an intense friendship and they nearly laugh together as much as they fight. Liam is kind of a jerk. Okay, he's kind of a huge jerk to Em. But he has his reasons for trying to keep her at distance. He cares about her, and under different circumstances they might've been able to start something, but they both know their different backgrounds make it nearly impossible for them to be together.

Still, he does whatever's needed to keep Em safe from the ever-growing tension and threats going on between his club and the Reapers and he silently hopes that maybe, someday he might be able to regain het trust and make her his. He's the kind of guy who throws out punches, but who's willing to take a beating too, if it means keeping his loved ones safe. Overall, Devil's Game was another winner by Joanna Wylde, at least for me.

Throughout the book I laughed, I swooned, and I nearly came off my seat with all the suspense and action that was going on. It was a thrilling, sexy, fast-paced, raw and gritty ride and I loved every second of it. The ending already hints at what's to come in the next book, which will be Picnic's story, and I can't wait to find out more about him and the mysterious London.

View all 57 comments. Len Wonderful review Debra! Jun 11, D Jun 11, A modern day Romeo and Juliet biker romance! Club born, Em , is not afraid of big bad biker dudes. Her father is the Prez of the Reapers. Unfortunately his dreams of her becoming an Reaper's Old Lady is shattered when Em falls for the enemy mc, Devils. In true Romeo and Juliet fashion we have two feuding families who don't trust each other. Romeo Hunter 'tricks' Juliet Em into thinking he is someone he is not. We got to see their first date in Reaper's Legacy but from Sophie's pov main character in Reaper's Legacy.

Ever since that book I've wanted to know what happened behind those closed doors when Sophie hears Em scream. Consider that all the answer you need. View all 59 comments. View all 12 comments. Apr 23, Catarina rated it it was amazing Shelves: That was almost impossible for Em. So when she meets Liam online, they develop a relationship that will change everything for her.

She will fall for him and it will change her: In the best and worst way. They end up meeting for the first time and if you read the previous book you know exactly what happens. And in the end who have your loyalty? The person you love or the brothers you grew up with? Raw, hot with endearing moments. There was some moments where the lack of trust was kind of annoying but other than that, an awesome reading.

Probably my favorite book in the series Writing Style: Not all authors can pull off a MC boo, but Joanna Wylde writes this series to almost perfection. Em was an amazing heroine: And still she was a sweet girl. Yes, he was a jackass for some time, but the fact the he fought for Em even going against a lot of rules and after we understanding where he came from, it was impossible not to completely love him.

View all 48 comments. Part Two is what happens afterwards. Em finally moves out of Picnic's house and to Portland to go to school. Portland just happens to also be where Hunter is. Hunter is a Devil's Jack. But is Hunter really the enemy? The Devil's and the Reap 4. The Devil's and the Reaper's are trying to remain neutral but the cartel has other plans. There was plently of MC action in this one. Will Picnic be okay with Em being with a Devil's Jack? What will it mean for Hunter to be with the daughter of a Reaper? And not just any Reaper, the President.

Em was one of the best heroines She knew the MC life. She found a way to remain loyal to her MC and yet protect Hunter at the same time. This was a really great read. Kept me entertained throughout. However, it must be mentioned that it was really lacking in the sexy times. Is it just me, or did Horse and Marie not have lots of sex? Obviously Sophie and Ruger didn't because they were too busy going back and forth about whether they even liked each other.

But Hunter and Em have no excuse Loyalty is great in love: One shore will calm us, and one tree overspread us, and we will often drink at a single spring. Let Jupiter himself set our boat on fire, so long as she is never absent from my eyes. Neptune equals his brother Jove in loving. The god redeemed his pledge for that embrace, and the golden urn poured out a celestial stream.

And Orithyia , though raped, denied that Boreas was cruel: Believe me Scylla will be gentle to us, and huge Charybdis who never ceases from her changing flow: What does it matter if my life is laid down upon your body? It will not be a dishonourable death. You mortals, then, enquire for the uncertain funeral hour, and by what road death will come to you: You weep again that your head is threatened by war, when Mars joins the wavering ranks on either side: Jupiter , be merciful, at last, to the unfortunate girl: That time has come when the scorching air burns, and Earth starts to blaze under the torrid Dog-star.

This undoes girls, this has undone them before: Was Venus annoyed that you were compared to her? You beauties have never learned to be sparing with words. Your tongue was harmful to you in this: Io lowed in her first years with altered forehead: Ino strayed as a girl over the earth: Andromeda was given to the sea-monster: Callisto , a she-bear, wandered Arcadian pastures: Now, as best as you can, comply, stricken, with fate: Juno , the wife, might even forgive you: The chanting of magic, the whirling bullroarers cease, and the laurel lies scorched in the quenched fires.

Now the Moon refuses as often to climb down from heaven, and the dismal night bird sounds its funeral note. One raft of fate carries both our loves, setting dark-blue sails to the lake of Hell. But take pity on both of us, not just on one! I bind myself with a sacred verse against this wish: Persephone , let your mercy endure: There are so many thousands of lovely girls among the dead: Down there with you is Iope ; with you shining Tyro ; with you is Europa , and wicked Pasiphae ; and whatever beauty old Troy and Achaia bore, the bankrupt kingdoms of ancient Priam and of Apollo ; and whoever among that number was a Roman girl, perished: No one has endless fortune, or eternal beauty: Since you have escaped, mea lux , out of great danger pay Diana the gift of the song and dance you owe her, and keep vigil as well for that heifer, now a goddess; and, for my sake, give her the ten nights you vowed.

But all were naked. One more lascivious than the rest, said: Saying this, in a moment, a rope was round my neck. Another one ordered me thrust in their midst, and a third cried: Stop, now, brothers, now he promises true love, and look, now, we have come to the house as ordered. It was dawn, and I wanted to see if she slept alone: So she looked to me, shedding recent sleep. Oh, how great is the power of beauty in itself!

There are no traces deep in the bed, signs of wallowing about, or of mutual slumber. Look, no breath panting from my whole body, confessing adultery. So I withdrew from spying on such chaste love: Now, you get ready to go to Phrygia , cruel one, now, over the waves, and seek by ship the shore of Hyrcanian seas. Where are you going, O, mad one? Even if winds, divided, snatch you on winged sandals, the highways of Mercury will do you no good. Love always pursues overhead, pursues lovers, and himself sits heavy on the neck that was free.

Let hard old men denounce the revels: Their ears are filled with ancient rules: Should I be ashamed to live serving one mistress? Cynthia , be pleased to lie with me, in caves of dew, in mossy hills. Then, when they put you in the front rank of the circling dance, Bacchus there in the middle with his cunning wand, then I will let the sacred ivy berries hang from my head: You ask why I come to you late?

Then in the midst, the temple reared up in bright marble, dearer to Phoebus than his Ortygian land. Right on the top were two chariots of the Sun, and the doors of Libyan ivory, beautifully done. Next the Pythian god himself was singing, in flowing robes, between his sister and mother. He who seemed to me, more beautiful than the true Phoebus, lips parted in marble song to a silent lyre. He who sees you sins: O Cynthia , why else do you search out dubious oracles at Praeneste , or the walls of Aeaean Telegonus? Why do chariots take you to Herculean Tibur?

Why the Appian Way, so often, to Lanuvium? But the crowd tell me not to trust you, when it sees you rush faithfully, carrying a torch, on fire, to the sacred grove, and bear light to the goddess Trivia. Lately a rumour spoke evil in my ear, and nothing good was said about you in the city.

Apollo bears witness that your hands are clean. Helen abandoned her country for a foreign lover, and was brought home again alive without being judged. They say that Venus herself was corrupted by libidinous Mars , but was always honoured, nevertheless, in heaven. Contemplating such debaucheries, surely no one asks: Where did his gifts come from?

Lesbia did all these things before, with impunity: So if you imitate Greek and Roman women, I sentence you to be free for life! The wretched rites are back again: This goddess, whoever she was, who so often separates lovers, was always ill-natured. Surely Io you learnt from hidden couplings with Jove , what it is to go many ways, when Juno ordered you, a girl, to wear horns, and lose your speech to the harsh sound cows make.

Oh, how often you galled your mouth on oak-leaves, and chewed, in your stall, on once-eaten strawberry leaves! Why take such a long journey to Rome? What good is it to you that the girls sleep alone? Perish the man who discovered neat wine, and first corrupted good water with nectar! Icarius you were rightly killed by Cecropian farmers, you have found how bitter the scent is of the vine. You, Eurytion the Centaur , also died from wine, and Polyphemus , you by Ismarian neat. Wine kills our beauty, and corrupts our youth: Let your table be drenched with more jets of Falernian , and foam higher in your golden cup.

No girl ever willingly goes to bed alone: Passion is often greater in absent lovers: Mine was nearly stolen away like that. That god corrupts families, separates friends, and makes sad calls to arms to those in happy agreement. Lynceus , you traitor, then, how could you lay hands on my darling?

Could you have lived with the shame? Kill me with daggers or poison: You can be a companion in life and body: But the frown of strict morality will never fool me: My Lynceus, himself, insane at last with love! What use now the wisdom of Socratic works, or being able to talk of the nature of things?

Old men are no help with a great love. Stop composing tragic Aeschylean verse, stop and let your limbs go, in soft choric dancing. Begin to turn your verse on a tighter lathe, and come to your own flames, hardened poet. You shall not go more safely than Homer , or than Antimachus: Nor will you be able to suffer harsh love on your own. First, your truculence must be quelled by me. Look at me, with hardly any wealth left to my family, with no ancestral triumphs long ago, but here I rule the fun, among the crowd of girls, by the intellect you disparage!

Give way you Roman authors! Give way you Greeks! Under the pine-trees of shadowed Galaesus , you sing, of Thyrsis and Daphnis , with the practised flute, and how the gift of ten apples, or an un-weaned kid, can corrupt a girl. Happy who buys their love cheaply with apples! Tityrus herself, the unkind, might sing for that. Happy that Corydon who tries to snatch virgin Alexis , delight of his master, the farmer! And you sing the precepts of old Hesiod , the poet, what plains crops grow well on, what hills should grow vines.

You make such music as Apollo mingles, fingers plucking his cunning lyre. The swan dies, melodious, with no less spirit, though with less effrontery than the ignorant song of the goose. And but now, in the waters of Hell, dead Gallus washed multiple wounds, from lovely Lycoris! Ghosts of Callimachus , and shrines of Coan Philetas , I pray you, allow me to walk in your grove. I am the first to enter, a priest of the pure fountain, to celebrate Italian mysteries in the rhythms of Greece.

Tell me in what valley did you both spin out your song? On what feet did you enter? Which waters did you drink? Away with the man who keeps Phoebus stuck in battle! Let verse be finished, polished with pumice — because of it Fame lifts me high above Earth, and, born of me, a Muse goes, in triumph, with flower-hung horses, and young Loves ride with me in a chariot, and a crowd of writers hangs at my wheels. Why struggle, vainly, against me, with slack reins? Rome , many will add praises to your story, singing that Persia will be a boundary of Empire: Muses grant your poet gentle garlands: Their own soil would scarcely know Deiphobus , Helenus , Pulydamas , or Paris embracing any kind of arms.

Nor would Homer , himself, who wrote your fall, not feel his work made greater by posterity. And Rome will praise me among later generations: I foresee that day myself, after the fire. Let me return, meanwhile, to the world of my poetry: They say that Orpheus , with his Thracian lyre, tamed wild creatures, held back flowing rivers: No wonder if, befriended by Bacchus and Phoebus , a crowd of girls cherish my words? My poems are so many records of your beauty.

Mind stands firm, a deathless ornament.

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Then Phoebus , spotting me, from his Castalian grove, leant on his golden lyre, by a cave, saying: Who asked you to meddle with epic song? Why is your page wrenched from its destined track? Scrape an oar through the water, the other through sand: He said it, and showed me a place with his ivory plectrum, where a new path had been made in mossy ground. This one chose ivy for a wand, that one tuned the strings for a song, and another planted roses with either hand. And one of this crowd of goddesses touched me it was Calliope , I think, by her face , saying: So Calliope said, and, drawing up liquid from her fountain, sprinkled my lips with the waters of Philetas.

Caesar , our god, plots war against rich India , cutting the straits, in his fleet, over the pearl-bearing ocean. Men, the rewards are big: Tiber , and Euphrates will flow to your tune. Go, get going, prows expert in battle: I sing you auspicious omens. And avenge that disaster of Crassus!

Devil's Game

Go and take care of Roman history! May Venus herself protect your children: Let the prize go to those who earned it by their efforts: O primal earth shaped badly by Prometheus! He set to work on the heart without enough care. He laid the body out with art, but forgot the mind: Conquered and conqueror mingled, as one, in the shadows: Captive Jugurtha , you sit by Marius the Consul: Croesus of Lydia not far from Dulichian Irus: It pleases me too to cloud my mind with much wine, and always have spring roses round my head. This is the end of life that waits for me: Every messenger should be without deceit: Now, start to tell it from the first inception, if you can: So, did you see her weep with dishevelled hair, vast waters pouring from her eyes?

Did you see no mirror, Lygdamus, on the covers, on the bed? No rings on her snow-white fingers? And a mourning-robe hanging from her soft arms, and her letter-case closed lying by the foot of the bed. Was the house sad, and her servants sad, carding thread, and she, herself spinning among them, and pressing the wool to her eyes, drying their moisture, and going over our quarrel in querulous tones?

If that pleases him, let him mock at my death, Lygdamus. The spider will weave corruption in his empty bed, and Venus will sleep, herself, on their nights together. While he was chasing you, the poor man was cut down in his prime, and floats an alien food for far-off fish.

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Paetus, the seabirds hover over your bones, and you have the whole Carpathian Sea now for a tomb. Cruel North-Wind , whom ravished Orithyia feared, how great are the spoils to be won from him? Why do you find joy in shipwreck, Neptune? That ship carried righteous men. Paetus, why number your years: The waves have no gods. Though your cables were fastened to rocks, the storms in the night fell on them: Return his body to earth: Worthless sands, of your own will, cover Paetus.

Go, and shape curving keels, and weave the causes of death: Earth was too small for fate, we have added the oceans: Can the anchor hold you, whom the household gods could not? Nature lying in wait has paved the watery paths of greed: Atrides would not let the fleet sail, for the loss of this boy, and Iphigenia was sacrificed through this delay. The cliffs of Caphareus shattered a triumphant fleet, when the Greeks were shipwrecked drawn down by the salt mass. Ulysses wept for his comrades hurled down one by one: From him, still living, the surge tore away his nails, and unwillingly, poor man, his throat swallowed the waters: Still he gave this command, weeping, with his last moans, as the dark wave closed over his dying breath: Are these guilty hands I bring to your seas?

Devil's Game (Reapers MC, #3) by Joanna Wylde

Alas for me, the sharp cliffs of the halycon will tear me! The dark-green god has struck me with his trident. At least let the tide hurl me on Italian shores: But you, fierce Northern Wind, will never see my sails: Our quarrel by lamplight last night was sweet to me, and all those insults from your furious tongue, when frenzied with drinking you pushed the table back, and threw full glasses over me, with an angry hand.

Truly bold, attack my hair, you, and mark my face with your lovely nails, threaten to scorch my eyes with a flame beneath them, rip my clothes and bare my chest! You give me certain signs of love: Let my friends see the wounds in my bitten neck: I want to suffer with love, or hear about suffering: I hate those sighs that never shatter sleep: I would always wish to turn pale for an angry girl.

The passion was dearer to Paris when he could cut his way through Greek ranks to bring pleasure to his daughter of Tyndareus. Be glad, that no one equals your beauty: As for you, a Vulcan , who wove a net for our bed, may your father-in-law be immortal, and your house never lack her mother! You who were granted the wealth of one stolen night, it was her anger against me, not love of you that gave it.

Maecenas , knight of the blood of Etruscan kings, you who are keen to achieve success: All things are not equally suited to all: Apelles claims highest place for paintings of Venus: Parrhasius deserves his for art in miniature. For Phidias Jupiter clothes himself in an ivory statue: Though an officer of the Roman state, allowed to set up the axes of law, and judge in the midst of the Forum ; though you pass through the fierce spears of the Medes , and burden your house with weapons on nails; though Caesar grants you power to achieve things, and easy money slithers in all the time; you hold back, and, humbly, crouch in the lowly shadows: Let these poems inflame our youths, and our girls: Gentle patron seize the reins of my fresh undertakings, and give the sign with your right hand when my wheels are let loose.

I wondered what the Muses had sent me, at dawn, standing by my bed in the reddening sunlight. Let this day pass without a cloud, the winds still in the air, and threatening waves fall gently on dry land. Let me see no one sad today: And oh, you, my dearest girl, born to happy auguries, rise, and pray to the gods who require their dues. First wash sleep away with pure water, and dress your shining hair with deft fingers.

And ask that the beauty that is your power may always be yours, and that your command over my person might last forever. Submit the strident flute to nocturnal dancing, and let your wantonness be free with words, and let sweet banqueting stave off unwelcome sleep, and the common breeze of the neighbouring street be full of the sound. And let fate reveal to us, in the falling dice, those whom the Boy strikes with his heavy wings. Why do you wonder if a woman entwines my life and brings a man enslaved under her rule? The sailor can best foretell his future fate, the soldier is taught by his wounds to nurture fear.

I once boasted like you when I was young: Amazon Penthesilea once dared to attack the Danaan fleet with arrows fired from horseback: Semiramis built Babylon , the Persian city, so that it rose a solid mass with ramparts of baked brick, and two chariots might set out on the walls, in opposite directions, without their axles touching and sides scraping: Why should I seize on heroes, why gods who stand accused?

Jupiter shames himself and his house. Why Cleopatra , who heaped insults on our army, a woman worn out by her own attendants, who demanded the walls of Rome and the Senate bound to her rule, as a reward from her obscene husband? Noxious Alexandria , place so skilled in deceit, and Memphis so often bloody with our grief, where the sand robbed Pompey of his three triumphs. Rome, no day will ever wipe away the stain. Better for you Pompey, ill at Naples, if your funeral procession had crossed the Phlegraean Plain, or that you had bowed your neck to Caesar , your father-in-law.

Celebrate a triumph Rome , and saved by Augustus beg long life for him! You fled then to the wandering mouths of frightened Nile: I saw your arms bitten by the sacred asps, and your limbs draw sleep in by a secret path. And your tongue spoke overpowered by endless wine: The gods founded them, may the gods protect these walls: Apollo of Actium will speak of how the line was turned: But you, sailor, whether leaving or making for harbour, be mindful of Caesar through all the Ionian Sea. She in the meantime will pine away at each idle rumour, for fear your courage will cost you dear, or the arrows of Medes enjoy your death, or the armoured knight on a golden horse, or some bit of you be brought back in an urn to be wept over.

Your morals deserve a different wife! What shall a girl do with no fear to guard her, with Rome to instruct her in its voluptuousness? On whatever day fate sends you safely home, modest Galla will hang about your neck. Postumus will be another Ulysses with a wife to wonder at: Not in vain, since his wife had stayed chaste at home. The reason for such ruin is clear and certain: These weapons take sheltered modesty by storm: Happy that singular custom at the funerals of Eastern husbands that the reddening dawn colours with her chariot!

The winners are inflamed and offer their breasts to the fire and rest their scorched faces on their husband. Here the race of brides is treacherous: Happy were the young country folk, once, peaceable: With such blandishments as these the kisses of girls were won, given to sylvan youths in secret hollows. The pine leaned over them and threw its rich shadows round them: The horned ram, head of the flock, led back his sated ewes himself to the empty fold of Pan the shepherd god.

But now the shrines decay in deserted groves: Money drives out loyalty, justice is bought for money, money rules the law, and, without the law, then shame. For money, vile Polymestor of Thrace , reared you, Polydorus , in impious hospitality. Amphiaraus is lost, and his horses swallowed up, so that you Eriphyla can cover your shoulders with gold. I speak truth, but no one will believe. Since, neither was Cassandra , the Trojan Maenad , believed to be truthful in the ruin of Pergama: Her frenzies were fitting for her father and her house: You yourself can speak about things without a go-between: No Tyrian garments beguile roving eyes, no affected toying with perfumed hair.

But my love goes surrounded by a great crowd, without the slimmest chance of getting an oar in: So let me know, now, no more storms in my love, and let the night not come to me when I lie awake without you! While three years have passed it is not much less I can barely remember ten words between us. Your love has buried everything, no woman, since you, has thrown a sweet chain about my neck. Dirce is evidence, made jealous by a true reproach that Antiope had slept with her Lycus.

How often she loaded the servant girl with unreasonable tasks, and ordered her to sleep on the hard ground! Often she suffered her to live in filth and darkness, often she refused her foul water for her thirst. Heavy chains scar her wrists. Yet on her own, with whatever strength was in her body, she broke the royal manacles with both hands. It was night and her sad couch was scattered with frost. Driven from her house their mother tested her hard-hearted son Zethus and her son Amphion easily moved to tears. And as the sea ceases its vast heaving, when the East wind leaves its assault on the South-West , and the coast is quiet, and the sounds of the shore diminish, so the girl sank on her bended knees.

Still piety came though late: Dirce is your glory dragged along to meet death in many places. But be careful of tormenting Lycinna who does not deserve it: May no story about us strike your ears: Commit myself to covering darkness, and fear audacious hands on my members? Yet if I were to ignore her message from fear, her weeping would be worse than an enemy in the night. Yet no one would hurt a sacred lover: The Moon helps him on his way; the stars light the ruts; Love shakes the blazing torch up ahead; raging wild dogs avert their gaping jaws.

But if I knew my certain death followed the event, perhaps such a fate would be worth more to me. Let a leafy tree hide me in quiet ground, or bury me entrenched in unknown sands: Now, O Bacchus , I prostrate myself humbly in front of your altars: Lovers are joined by you, by you set free. Bacchus wash this trouble from my soul. That you also are not innocent of love, Ariadne bears witness, drawn through the sky, by lynxes of yours, to the stars.

This disease that has kept the flame in my bones from of old, the funeral pyre or your wine will heal. A sober night is always a torment for lonely lovers, and hope and fear strain their spirits this way and that. Your white neck burdened with trailing clusters of ivy-berries, Bassareus , a Lydian turban crowns your hair.

Your smooth throat will glisten with scented olive oil, and the flowing robe will brush your naked feet. Dircean Thebes will beat the soft drums, and goat-footed Pans will play on unstopped reeds. Nearby the Great Goddess, Cybele , with turreted crown will clash harsh cymbals in the Idaean dance. The mixing bowl will stand in front of your temple doors, for wine to be poured over your sacrifice from the golden ladle.

Only do you set me free from this despotic servitude, and conquer this anxious mind with sleep. He is dead, and his twentieth year is left ruined: All must still go there, of high or low station: Though a cautious man sheathe himself in iron or bronze, death will still drag out his hidden head. Let them carry this body void of its soul, to you, Boatman, who ferries across the dutiful shades: You often taunt me with my passion: The fire in burning corn will sooner be stamped out, the rivers return to the founts where they were born, the Syrtes offer quiet harbour, and savage Cape Malea offer the sailor kind welcome on its shore, than any man be able to restrain your course, or curb the spurs of your impetuous wantonness.

Witness Pasiphae who suffered the disdain of the Cretan bull, and wore the deceptive horns of the wooden cow. Myrrha too is a reproach, on fire for her aged father, buried in the foliage of a new-created tree. Why need I mention Medea , who, in her time as a mother, satisfied her fury by the murder of her children? Or Clytemnestra through whom the whole House of Mycenean Pelops remains infamous for her adultery?

That was the dowry the virgin pledged to his enemy! Nisus , treacherous love opened your city gates. And you, unmarried ones, burn torches of happier omen: Still Minos does not sit as a judge in Hell without reason: Cruel the man who could exchange his girl for wealth! Was all Africa worth as much as those tears? But you, foolish girl, think idle words are gods.

Perhaps he wears out his heart on another passion. Your house is fortunate, if only your lover is true. My first night has come! Grant me the space of a first night: Moon linger longer over our first couch. You also Phoebus , who prolong the fires of summer, shorten the path of your lingering light. First the terms must be laid out, and the pledges sealed, and the contract written for my new love.

Amor with his own seal binds these tokens: How many hours must give way to my discourse, before Venus urges sweet battles on us! Let the first omens keep us loyal. So then, who breaks the pledges sworn on the altars, and dishonours the nuptial rites on a strange bed, let him know all the miseries love is used to: For love for my girl grows with constant gazing: Hoist happy sails to the top of the mast: Towers of Rome , and you, my friends, farewell, and farewell you too, girl, whatever you meant to me!

Either the passage of years, or the long spaces of the deep will heal the wounds in my silent breast: And Cybele of Dindymus fashioned from carved tusks; and the path taken by the horses of Dis the rapist?

Though the cities of Helle , daughter of Athamas , delight you, perhaps, Tullus, still be moved by my longing. Fame is not ashamed of your history Rome. Since our power is established by loyalty as much as weapons: But no horned snakes slithering on scaly bellies, Italian waters are not seething with strange monsters. No savage Bacchantes hunt Pentheus through the trees, nor are Greek ships set free by the substitution of a doe.

This place gave you birth, Tullus, this is your sweetest home, here is honour to seek, worthy of your people. Here are citizens for your oratory: So, my clever writing-tablets are lost, then, and so many good texts too! They were worn away by my hands former usage, and they required good faith by not being sealed. Moreover without me they knew how to pacify my girls, and how to speak eloquent words without me.

Such as they were they stayed faithful always to me, and always produced a good effect. Perhaps the tablets were entrusted with these words: Or did someone else seem lovelier to you? Or did you spread some unkind slander about me? Oh well, now some miser writes his accounts on them, and places them with his dire ledgers! Whoever gives me them back can have gold: Go boy, and quickly stick these words on some column, and write that your master lives on the Esquiline.

I often praised the many beauties combined in you, because love thought you were what you are not. Your aspect was often compared with rosy Dawn , though the beauty of your face was all applied by hand: This I confessed, in truth, not compelled by knife or flame, wrecked on Aegean waters. I was bound, my hands twisted behind my back. Behold, my wreathed boats reach harbour, the Syrtes are past, and I cast anchor. I come to my senses now at last, weary of the wild surge, and my wounds are closed and healed. Good Sense , if there is such a goddess, I dedicate myself to your shrine!

Jupiter was deaf to all my prayers. I was laughed at among the guests seated for the banquet, and whoever wished was able to gossip about me. I managed to serve you faithfully for five years: Tears have no effect on me: I was ensnared by those wiles: Cynthia you only every wept with guile. I will weep, departing, but insult overcomes tears: Now goodbye to the threshold weeping at my words: May you long then to tear out white hairs by their roots, ah, when the mirror rebukes you with your wrinkles, and may you in turn, rejected, suffer proud arrogance, and, changed to an old woman, regret what you have done!

These are the dread events my pages prophesy for you: From Beyond the Grave. Here, whatever you see, stranger, which is mighty Rome , before Trojan Aeneas was hills and grass: These golden temples sprang from earthly gods: Tarpeian Jupiter thundered from a bare cliff, and Tiber was foreign to our cattle. The Curia that shines up there robed with the purple hem of the Senate, held the Fathers, dressed in animal skins, to its rustic heart.

No man cared to seek out alien gods: Vesta , poor, delighted in garlanded donkeys, and skinny cattle pulled cheap emblems. Their raw soldiers did not gleam with threatening armour: So were the Titienses , heroic Ramnes , and the Luceres of Solonium , so Romulus drove four white triumphal horses. For certain Bovillae was hardly a suburb of the tiny city, and Gabii was greatly crowded, that now is nothing.

And Alba stood, powerful, founded through the omen of a white sow, when it was a long journey from there to Fidenae. Here, Troy , for the best, you sent your exiled household gods. Here, at such auguries, the Trojan vessel sailed!

Skull and Bones Links

You win in vain! Wolf of Mars , the best of nurses to our State, what towers have sprung from your milk! Now to try and set out those towers in patriotic verse, ah me, how puny the sound that rises from my mouth! But however thin the streams that flow from my chest, it is all in the service of my country.

Let Ennius crown his verse with a shaggy garland: Bacchus , hold out to me leaves of your ivy, so that my books might make Umbria swell with pride, Umbria fatherland of the Roman Callimachus! Whoever sees the towers of Assisi climbing from the valley, honour those walls according to my genius! Rome , favour me, the work soars up for you: I will sing rites and days, and the ancient names of places: The threads you spin are not from a true distaff. Singing, you summon tears: Orops of Babylon , child of Archytas , fathered me, Horos , and my house is descended from Conon as ancestor.

My prophecy touched on truth, though unwillingly. The track of the heavens must be examined, and the path of truth among the stars, and knowledge looked for from the five zones. Calchas was a profound example: Yet the Greeks did not return: Nauplius raises his fires by night in vengeance, and Greece sails weighed down by her spoils.

Victorious Ajax , son of Oileus , rape, then love, your prophetess, Cassandra , though Minerva forbids her to be stripped of her robe! So much for history: Ancient Umbria gave birth to you, at a noble hearth: Or has my mouth revealed your country? Where misty Mevania wets the open plain, and the summer waters of the Umbrian lake steam, and the wall towers from the summit of climbing Assisi , that wall made more famous by your genius? Since though many bullocks ploughed your fields, the merciless measuring-rod stole your wealth of land.

But you create elegies, deceptive art: Since whatever victories your labour wins you, one girl will escape your grasp: Now whether your ship is tossed about in mid-ocean, or you go unarmed among armed men, or the trembling earth yawns in a gaping chasm: Learn the native tokens of the god Vertumnus. This crowd of mine delights me, I enjoy no ivory temple: Tiber once took its course there, and they say the sound of oars was heard over the beaten waters: The first grape changes hue, for me, in darkening bunches, and hairy ears of corn swell with milky grains. Here you see sweet cherries, autumn plums, and mulberries redden through summer days.

Here the grafter pays his vows with apple garlands, when the unwilling pear stock has borne fruit. Be silent empty rumour: My nature is adaptable to every form: Give me a scythe and tie twists of hay on my forehead: Once I carried weapons, I remember, and was praised for it: Loaded down with nets I hunt: I can bend like a shepherd over his crook, or carry baskets of roses through the dust. Dark-green cucumbers, gourds with swollen bellies, and the cabbages tied with light rushes mark me out: Because the single shape became vertebar all, my native tongue from that gave me my name.

I saw the broken ranks, the abandoned weapons, and the enemy turn their backs in shameful flight. Six lines are to be added: I was a maple stock, cut by a swift sickle: But, Mamurius , creator of my statue in bronze, may the rough earth never spoil your skilful hands, that were able to cast me for such peaceful use. The work is alone, but the honour the work is given is not. Still, if any part you wish to read is smeared, that blot will have been made by my tears: A moment ago Bactra saw you in the east again, now the Neuric enemy with armoured horses, the wintry Getae and Britain with its painted chariots, and the dark-skinned Indians pounded by the eastern waves.

Was this the marriage oath and the night sealed with kisses, when, an innocent, I yielded to the urgency of your conquering arms? The ill-omened torch, carried before me by those who led, drew its dark light from a ruined pyre: Oh, my harmful vows hang from every gate: Let him perish who tore a stake from an innocent tree, and made mournful trumpets from shrill horns, he is more worthy than Ocnus to lean on, and twist the rope, and feed your hunger, mule, to eternity! Tell me, does the breastplate cut your tender shoulders? Does the heavy spear chafe your unwarlike hands?

They say your face is lean and drawn: While I, when evening leads on the bitter night, kiss the weapons you have left behind. On winter nights I labour to spin for your campaigns, and cut Tyrian cloth for the sword: With naked breasts she carried weapons, and barbarously hid her soft hair under a helmet. If only the Roman camps were open to women! I would have been a loyal burden for your campaign. Scythian hills would not hinder me when the mighty god turns the waters to ice with deeper cold.

Every love is powerful, but greater in an acknowledged partner: Why then should robes of Phoenician purple gleam for me now, or clear crystals decorate my fingers? The whimpering of the little puppy Craugis is dear to me: I roof over the shrines with flowers, cover the crossroads with sacred branches, and the Sabine herb crackles on ancient altars.

That is the sole condition on which I would have you back: Tatius encircled this hill with a maple-wood palisade, and ringed his camp securely with mounds of earth. The hills were walls: There was a pleasant grove hidden in an ivied hollow and many a tree filled the native streams with rustling.

Here Tarpeia drew water for the Goddess: And could one death be sufficient for that wicked girl, who wanted to betray your flames, Vesta? She saw Tatius practising manoeuvres on the sandy plain, and lifting his ornate spear among the yellow crests. She often feigned that the innocent moon was ominous, and said she must wash her hair in the stream. And sitting on that Tarpeian Hill of hers, she sobbed out, from there, her wound that nearby Jupiter would not forgive: Hills of Rome , and Rome that crowns the hills, and Vesta shamed by my wickedness, farewell!

That horse, will carry my passions to his camp, whose mane is dressed to the right, by Tatius himself! So rumour says, tomorrow, there will be a purging of the whole city: The whole track is slippery and treacherous: O if only I knew the incantations of the magical Muse!

Then my tongue would have brought help to my lovely man. The ornate robe is worthy of you, not him without honour of a mother, nourished by the harsh teats of a brutal she-wolf. Stranger, as your queen, shall I give birth so in your palace! Rome betrayed comes with me, no poor gift to you.

If not, so that the raped Sabine women are not un-avenged, rape me, and choosing one after the others repay in kind! I can separate the warring armies: Hymenaeus add your measure: Now the fourth bugle-call sings out the coming of day, and the stars themselves fall slipping into the Ocean.

I will try to sleep, I will search out dreams of you: She spoke, and let her arms fall in uneasy sleep, not knowing alas that she had lain down among fresh frenzies. She ran, like a Thracian by swift Thermodon , tearing at her clothes, with naked breasts. Romulus decreed that the watch should be free to rest, and the camp be silent, the trumpets cease. Tarpeia determined this was her chance, and met with the enemy: The hill was difficult to climb, but unguarded due to the feast: But Tatius since even the enemy gave no rewards to wickedness said: This was your dowry, virgin, fitting for your services.

O, watcher, unjustly you win a reward from fate. Earth cover your grave with thorns, Procuress, and let your shadow feel what you do not wish for, thirst: Clever at winning even adamant Hippolytus to love, and always darkest omen to a peaceful bed, she could even force Penelope to be indifferent to rumours of her husband, and wed with lascivious Antinous.

If she wishes it, the magnet will be unable to attract iron, and the bird will play the stepmother to her nestlings. She dared to set rules for the spellbound moon, and disguise her shape as a nocturnal wolf, so that by art she could blind watching husbands, and tear out the innocent eyes of crows with her nails, and considered with owls concerning my blood, and for me collected the fluids produced by a pregnant mare.

She practised her role, alas, with flattering words, and just as the diligent mole drills out his stone-filled track: Pretending to have a husband raises the price: He sits in supplication — take your chair and write anything at all: Always have fresh bite-marks on your neck, that he might think were given in the to and fro of love-quarrels. Alter your style for the man: Let your doorman look out for the bringers of gifts: Consider the gold, and not the hand that offers the gold! Though you listen to poems what will you get but words?

I have seen the budding roses of fragrant Paestum left scorched at dawn by the South Wind. But, Venus O Queen, accept a ring-dove as an offering, its neck cut before your altars. For the funeral there were stolen bindings for her scant hair, and a turban faded from lying in the dirt, and a dog, ever wakeful to my distress, when I was to slip the bolt with secretive fingers. Whoever loves strike at this grave with rough stones, and mingled with the stones add your curses! The priest makes the sacrifice: Give me soft costmary, and offerings of lovely incense, and let the loop of wool go three times round the fire.

Sprinkle me with water, and by the new altars let the ivory flute sing of Phrygian jars. Fraud go far from here, and Injury to other skies: Muse , we will speak of the Temple of Palatine Apollo: Calliope , the subject is worthy of your favour. And they dare to come too near with their oars: Do not fear that their ships are winged with a hundred oars: The moment has come, commit your fleet: I declare the moment: I lead the Julian prows with laurelled hand.

He spoke, and lent the contents of his quiver to the bow: Triton honoured it with music, and all the goddesses of the sea applauded, as they circled the standards of freedom. The best thing, by all the gods! What sort of a triumph would one woman make in the streets where Jugurtha was once led! So Apollo of Actium gained his temple, each of whose arrows destroyed ten ships. I have sung of war enough: Apollo the victor now demands my lyre, and sheds his weapons for the dance of peace. Now let guests in white robes enter the gentle grove: