Each man must return—whether he wants to or not.
Ireland and Britannia, 433 AD. Four warriors return to a place ten years burned into their past, along with a fifth wheel who seems to have no business at all running with the big dogs…
The secret lovers Gristle and Wynn leave the relative safety of Derry in northern Ireland to seek a very bad man near the Wall of Hadrian, where both of them once led separate lives.
Tristus, a priest-in-training, leaves the monastery of then-Bishop Patrick to help a brother who does not want his help. The high king’s wise man Dubthach joins them all, traveling to the land where he sired his only son and left in sorrow.
And the fifth man? His name is Xan and he’s infatuated with the would-be monk. Nothing, even fear and deceit, can stop him from following the trail of a desirable man…
- 2 To Be Read lists
- Jul 1 - Jul 31: 75% off this third of The Iron Warrior ancient Ireland novel series at Smashwords
Publisher: New Dawn Press
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 36-45
Protagonist 2 Age: 18-25
Tropes: Age Difference, Alpha Character, Coming Home, Criminals & Outlaws, Interracial Relationship, May/December, Rescue
Word Count: 60474
Setting: ancient Ireland-Britain
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
When Gristle returned, he was sheltering the wobbly flame from a small oil lamp, which he had no doubt lit from the downstairs fire pit. Placing it carefully on the only table in the small room, he turned to Wynn.
“Stand, and let me take your place.”
Wynn’s gut lurched, and with it, his cock. He stifled a teasing reply, sensing Gristle’s tense mood. In one swift move, he stood on the opposite side of the bed and watched the iron warrior settle onto the animal pelts, face up. By the light of the oil lamp he watched his lover’s cock, shiny with early juice, shift and rise, a mute appeal that sent blood rushing into his own stiffening flesh.
“Now. Come sit on my face.”READ MORE
No matter how often he and Gris made love, each time was the first time. He let that thought shift and pull at his mind as he straddled the man beneath him, allowing his groin to nestle in the light stubble on his cheeks and chin, trembling at the touch of his teeth, his tongue, his feather-soft lips…the pull and release of practiced fingers on his sac…and then the slow, subtle intrusion of those fingers, now ramrod stiff, probing his core, becoming more insistent as his cock wallowed in Gristle’ mouth…
He had emptied himself not even half an hour ago, and yet damned if Gristle had not found some way to bring him to high-pitched need. Trying to fight back, he surrendered, there in the wavering light, in a bed reserved for giants. He roared his pleasure, ramming his hips hard, harder into the cave that was Gristle’s bottomless maw.
He knew what must come next. His lover was always fired to maximum need by the hot semen he cradled in his mouth. Wordlessly, he rolled Wynn onto his belly. Wynn drew up his knees and spread his legs wide, wider.
He felt the hot honey of his own seed… Gris spitting into his ass hole…and then the deep grunt of the man’s desperate lust, before his hole was filled with the warrior’s hammer-like cock.
Wynn sometimes thought he could reach another climax just from the way Gristle seemed to lose his iron control, gasping and ramming his weapon. The man always fucked him only moments after Wynn’s own release, so another climax seemed impossible. The boy’s thought lingered a moment on his secret ointment, before he gave in, steeling himself for the collision of their scrotums.
With a cry, the hardened soldier reached his ecstasy and collapsed on Wynn’s back. It was a ritual that never changed, the way Gris gnawed and sucked the nape of his neck while coming back to earth. And Wynn, grateful that he could so disarm the mighty warrior, found his own nirvana.
“I love ye, Gris.”
The low response was rough with emotion…or was it the verge of sleep? “And you. Honey-ass.”COLLAPSE
Brilliant and Extraordinary Ending
This completion of a Dark Ages trilogy has been a while in coming, but the wait was well worthwhile. Here we have to expansion of the love story between the Roman-born but British converted 40-year-old Gristle (Marcus), and his 22-year-old lover Wynn from Wales...
Now we have, through happy serendipitous circumstance, the three of them come together again, joined by a newbie, Xan, a 22-year-old from a mysterious origin (Hungary or Romania?), as they are entreated and persuaded to rid the budding country of Ireland from a slave trader who masquerades as a stag.
And who do you think is most persuasive in sending them on with good speed (really, god-speed)? Why if it isn't another ex-Roman now high priest of the Roman church, Brother Patrick--and you know whom he will eventually become at the end of his story.
Fortunately, the story herein is mainly centered on Gristle and Wynn, and their bedroom and other conjugal locations are extraordinarily written and set up in a way that is completely logical for the reader to accept and encourage. This is a hallmark of Erin Quinn's writing style--taking individual encounters of lust and turning them into extreme love-making with twists and turns you might not expect coming out of the fifth century.
That there are some jealousies along the way involving Xan and Tristus, and some possible complications from another major player, the seemingly irrelevant (at first) but in the end crucial Dub. This is all additional delight to the anticipation and excitement of a book that takes time to read because you are literally forced to put it down and savor what has just happened. And that happens at least a dozen times in this dazzling journey.
We are given our due at the end, as are at least most of the central characters, but we are also left with the word that another series follows based upon the exploits of some of the men in this epic tale. That is something we can all look forward to from one of the most gifted chroniclers of historical MM fiction we have in our midst.