{"id":293,"date":"2015-12-08T16:45:30","date_gmt":"2015-12-08T21:45:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/?page_id=293"},"modified":"2015-12-08T16:45:30","modified_gmt":"2015-12-08T21:45:30","slug":"like-a-veil-edited-by-michelle-labbe-cecilia-tan","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/?page_id=293","title":{"rendered":"Like A Veil edited by Michelle Labbe &#038; Cecilia Tan"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/circlet.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/nocover.png\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft\" src=\"https:\/\/circlet.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/like-a-veil-cover-final-iconsize.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"100\" height=\"150\" \/><\/a>ebook $3.99<br \/>\nISBN 9781885865946<br \/>\n20,710 words<\/p>\n<p>[wp_eStore_add_to_cart id=107]<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Also available at <a href=\"https:\/\/www.amazon.com\/Like-Veil-Arabian-Fantasy-Selections-ebook\/dp\/B004089E0U?ie=UTF8&amp;*Version*=1&amp;*entries*=0&amp;redirect=true#nav-subnav\">Amazon<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.barnesandnoble.com\/w\/like-a-veil-cecilia-tan\/1111904815\">Barnes&amp;Noble.com<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/web.archive.org\/web\/20100907024847\/https:\/\/www.smashwords.com\/books\/view\/22049\" target=\"new\" rel=\"noopener\">Smashwords, <\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/web.archive.org\/web\/20100907024847\/https:\/\/www.scribd.com\/doc\/36139548\/Like-a-Veil-Erotic-Tales-of-the-Arabian-Nights\" target=\"new\" rel=\"noopener\">Scribd<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/web.archive.org\/web\/20100907024847\/https:\/\/www.rainbowebooks.com\/store\/product_info.php?products_id=2700\" target=\"new\" rel=\"noopener\">Rainbow Ebooks<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/web.archive.org\/web\/20100907024847\/https:\/\/www.allromanceebooks.com\/product-likeaveilerotictalesofthearabiannights-449264-143.html\" target=\"new\" rel=\"noopener\">All Romance Ebooks<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/web.archive.org\/web\/20100907024847\/https:\/\/www.trapeziumebooks.com\/index.php?route=product\/product&amp;product_id=885\" target=\"new\" rel=\"noopener\">Trapezium<\/a>, the iBookstore, Diesel, and elsewhere.<\/p>\n<p>A wanderer seeks access to a legendary forbidden city\u2013but not before she convinces the mysterious gatekeeper of her worth. A Sultan gets more than he bargained for when a djinn offers him a night of pleasure unlike any other. <i>Like a Veil: Tales of Arabian Nights<\/i> is Circlet Press\u2019s latest erotica anthology, inspired by the storytelling arts and erotic visions of Sharazad.<\/p>\n<p>Editors Michelle Labb\u00e9 and Cecilia Tan present four tantalizing stories that take readers into the sensual, rich and strange world of the Arabian Nights. Just as Sharazad wove stories as rich as damask to captivate the sultan and preserve her life, the stories in Like a Veil promise to entice readers with pleasure far beyond a thousand and one nights.<\/p>\n<p>Stories include:<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li>Her Way by Anya Levin<\/li>\n<li>Blue-Eyed Djinn by Angela Goldsberry<\/li>\n<li>Catch and Release by Sunny Moraine<\/li>\n<li>The Eater of Stories by Sophia Deri-Bowen<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p>Read an excerpt:<br \/>\n<span id=\"more-1430\"><\/span><br \/>\n<!--more-->Excerpt from \u201cHer Way\u201d by Anya Levin<\/p>\n<p>They say that magic lives in the desert, but I\u2019m not sure I\u2019ve found it yet.<\/p>\n<p>There\u2019s something beyond mundane belief and certainty, to be sure. Once past the stone bastions of civilization, as our small party edged into the eternal, ever-changing wilderness, it seemed as though a stone fell from my shoulders. Blinders, as they like to say, fell from my eyes. Things became possible that have been scoffed at by those who consider themselves rational. Stories discounted as mythical or euphemistic in countless ancient storybooks become eerily reasonable to a mind subjected to the open sprawl of the desert and the baking heat of the sun high above.<\/p>\n<p>Are such revelations\u2013realizations\u2013magic, or just the unfortunate side-effects of one\u2019s brain boiling away? It was hard to tell.<\/p>\n<p>Whatever the impetus behind the sudden freeing of my brain, for that\u2019s what it was, in truth, it only made it easier to follow the robed form of our guide as he led the way. It only made my imagination run all the more rampant with forbidden, fantastical, and visceral longings. Fantasies rose to my mind as we plodded through the sands, images and feelings that I never would have contemplated airing in the sunlight before, let alone allowing to affect me so much that each footstep of my hump-backed mount left me squirming that much more.<\/p>\n<p>It was a good thing that I adored the heat, as we\u2019d been traversing a mostly unmapped section of desert for nearly a week already. If I\u2019d been a northerner born and bred I\u2019d no doubt be miserable. As it was, I\u2019d long since stopped wishing for a bath or fresh clothing. My current burning desire\u2013well, the desire that had some chance of being fulfilled, at least\u2013was for a modicum of privacy to urinate, or even to change my increasingly saturated underthings.<\/p>\n<p>Such a thing would be dangerous in the desert, of course, where direction can be difficult to ascertain even with a compass, and I\u2019d long grown used to the two men I traveled with being within sight and hearing at all times, but realistic necessities didn\u2019t eradicate those wistful desires.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019re almost there,\u201d Clay called.<\/p>\n<p>His voice was muted by the cloth that covered his mouth, and the fact that he was two camel-lengths ahead of me, but the news did give a sense of momentary mental buoyancy. I admitted to myself that I\u2019d started to despair of ever reaching our goal, despite the fact that I\u2019d been the one most insistent throughout our journey that we\u2019d finally find the lost city.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t see any buildings,\u201d Mark shouted. Big, burly, skeptical Mark. He\u2019d come along just in case, I think, because he was afraid that if I did find anything and he wasn\u2019t a part of the expedition, he\u2019d lose all standing in his department back miles away at the University.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe desert is deceptive,\u201d Clay yelled back. It was a phrase that fell from his lips often. As if he were the only one of us who\u2019d ever trekked through a desert. As if anyone could achieve the places that Mark and I held without practical archaeological experience. That included desert treks in both our cases.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBesides,\u201d Clay continued. \u201cEven the biggest city can be buried with enough sand.\u201d Which was all too true.<\/p>\n<p>We\u2019d barely managed to gather the funds for Clay\u2019s salary.<\/p>\n<p>Heavy-duty digging equipment, particularly the kind of machinery required for the delicate art of archaeological discovery, had always been far beyond our budget. But, if we found any sign of a former civilization, so far from any marked inhabitants, current or historical, well\u2026that would be a different story entirely.<\/p>\n<p>Finding a definitive object could make our careers for the rest of our lives.<\/p>\n<p>Finding the lost city would also, I hoped, shed some light on the evocative, almost impossible-to-believe illustrations that I\u2019d found. Illustrations and descriptions that still haunted me in the most desperate and, some would say, depraved manner.<\/p>\n<p>The camels plodded on. I could tell from the tightness in Mark\u2019s back that despite his overt disbelief, the excitement was digging its claws into him. I smiled, and adjusted my sweat-dampened hat. We were almost there\u2026<\/p>\n<p>Clay ground to a halt ahead, leaving Mark and I hauling on our respective reins. The guide\u2019s demeanor changed, became something less the affable, easygoing leader we\u2019d been following for days and something darker, and perhaps even dangerous.<\/p>\n<p>He wasn\u2019t just a guide, I reminded myself. We\u2019d hired him to be our security, as well.<\/p>\n<p>I edged my camel forward with nudges\u2013we\u2019d developed something of a relationship over the last few days of travel, I liked to think\u2013and sucked in a breath.<\/p>\n<p>There, smack-dab on the spot where, according to the map I\u2019d pieced together, the lost city was to be found, sat a tent. It wasn\u2019t a large tent, either, and it stood alone, anchored in the middle of the desert, far from sources of food or water. There was no other sign of habitation, no animals, no other structures. The land surrounding the tent was pristine, smooth sand shifted by the wind and nothing else.<\/p>\n<p>Curiosity burned, and I barely restrained myself from leaping from the camel and running forward to see what secrets the tent held. I wondered what kind of person made a home so deep in the desert, for though there was no overt evidence of life, the fact that the tent stood was proof enough for me that either someone dwelled within its canvas walls, or had until recently.<\/p>\n<p>The desert wasn\u2019t very considerate of humanity\u2019s detritus. Many years of archaeological experience had made that very clear.<\/p>\n<p>It still came as a shock, however, when the front flap of the tent was suddenly thrust open and a woman stepped into the afternoon sunlight.<\/p>\n<p>She was tall and lithe and regal, and looked like she\u2019d just come out of a palace, not a grubby, weather-beaten tent. She was incredibly beautiful. Her dark hair fell in smooth, orderly waves down her back, and her skin was burnished golden, clean and soft-looking. She wore simple clothing, an unexpectedly colorful skirt and shirt combination that clashed as much as the rest of her with her surroundings.<\/p>\n<p>I felt dirty, dried out, and hopelessly worn in comparison.<\/p>\n<p>The woman motioned graciously, beckoning us into the tent.<\/p>\n<p>The situation feeling wholly unreal, I looked at Mark, and then Clay.<\/p>\n<p>Mark tugged at the cloth tucked around his mouth, pulled it free to reveal a hair-stubbled chin. \u201cDo we have another choice?\u201d Clay answered by slinging his leg over his camel\u2019s side and leaping to the ground. He strode toward the woman and ducked beneath the tent flap she was holding open, and went into the tent without a backward glance. Mark and I glanced at each other, and Mark slowly followed suit.<\/p>\n<p>And so, obeying the strange sense of rightness in my head, I left the camel, reins dangling at its side. I stepped firmly across the sands, my boots sliding and sinking, finally reaching the tent flap and finding myself face to face with the woman. She smelled of musk and the glint in her eyes sent frissons of something indefinable racing up and down my spine.<\/p>\n<p>I stepped into the tent.<\/p>\n<p>Darkness surrounded me instantly, and it took some moments before my eyes adjusted and I could see the low table surrounded by cushions and Mark and Clay seated before it. I took the pillow that was left, and settled onto the ground beside them.The woman flowed into the room, moving as if her feet weren\u2019t touching the ground. She settled onto a cushion that hadn\u2019t been there. \u201cTea?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She spoke English.<\/p>\n<p>I opened my mouth, then blinked, seeing that there was, after all, a full tea set laid out on the table. I took the cup in front of me, suddenly feeling the overwhelming dryness of my throat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDelicious,\u201d I said. And it was.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho are you?\u201d Clay asked. The cup he was holding looked tiny and delicate in his hand.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou are getting ahead of yourself,\u201d the woman said, her tone clearly warning.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re not supposed to be here,\u201d Mark said. \u201cThere\u2019s supposed to be a city here.\u201d He looked around the tent. \u201cAre you on top of the ruins? Do you know where they are?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019ve come looking for the lost city,\u201d she said, ignoring Mark\u2019s questions. \u201cBut to find the city you must prove yourselves to me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho are you?\u201d Clay asked again, his fingers tightening on the cup\u2019s handle until I fully expected the china to break under the stress.<\/p>\n<p>The woman continued, \u201cTo earn the way, you must demonstrate why the way should be opened to you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mark, Clay, and I shared a long look of perplexity.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd it is I you must convince,\u201d she said with an air of finality.<\/p>\n<p>It briefly occurred to me to wonder why I wasn\u2019t questioning the woman, but then the concern was gone. Questions, I somehow knew, were unnecessary.<\/p>\n<p>Clay leaned back, sucking in air between his teeth with a hissing whistle. He looked to Mark and me. \u201cThis is your quest. I\u2019m just along for the ride.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mark nodded, and cleared his throat. He squared his shoulders and faced the woman. \u201cI should be allowed access to the city because I can discover the past of the city, and bring it to the world.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The woman nodded. \u201cYou seek the city for fame, and fortune.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo!\u201d Mark protested, shaking his head. \u201cOr at least, not fame and fortune for me. I want fame for the city, and fortune for the people of your country. For myself\u2026I want to find the city because\u2026\u201d Mark trailed off, gathered himself. \u201cThis city hasn\u2019t been seen, known, in centuries. To see it, to touch it\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The woman stared at Mark, her eyes losing focus, and then looked away.<\/p>\n<p>Clay was next in the woman\u2019s sights. \u201cYou? Why should you be allowed access to the city?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Clay\u2019s hands flew into the air, and he pushed back from the low table. \u201cHey, don\u2019t look at me. I\u2019m just the guide here.\u201d He flashed a grin, bright teeth in the darkness of the room. \u201cI\u2019m not really interested in your city.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou lie well,\u201d the woman observed.<\/p>\n<p>Clay paled, then flushed, and seemed to fold in on himself.<\/p>\n<p>The woman turned to me. \u201cAnd you? Will you earn access?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I found myself at a loss for words.<\/p>\n<p>Though I\u2019d been trying furiously to think of a way to satisfy this woman\u2019s questioning, some appropriate, scholarly reasoning that would surpass Mark\u2019s fame-seeking and yet reveal the personal angle to my search, something that was clearly necessary, all I could think about were the black and white limbs and the delicious descriptions that I\u2019d read in the books, and the imaginings that had featured in my fantasies for so many long months.<\/p>\n<p>A world where to love someone\u2013physically, emotionally\u2013was not just acceptable, or possible once the intricacies of social obligation and connection had been fulfilled, but something that was celebrated. And the rich detail of the stories\u2026 I controlled a shiver, and swallowed hard, wondering. What if they were only stories? What if\u2026<\/p>\n<p>I cut off that line of thinking, looked into the woman\u2019s patient, liquid eyes.<\/p>\n<p>She wanted honesty, clearly, from her reaction to Clay\u2019s response, and something very personal, from her reaction to Mark.<\/p>\n<p>Which left me with little choice.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI want to know the truth.\u201d I tried to cobble together more of my thoughts, stumbled mentally over words and feelings. \u201cI want to know\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The woman\u2019s eyes sharpened. I had the sudden certainty that she knew exactly what was in my mind. It felt as if she were more than looking at me, more than looking through me, even. She was looking into me. Heat cascaded through my body, embarrassment mixed with a startling excitement.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh,\u201d she said. \u201cYou\u2026you are interesting.\u201d She leaned forward, and everything shifted.<\/p>\n<p>The table shrank, the tea things disappeared, and suddenly it was just me and the woman in the tent.<\/p>\n<p>My breath came fast. A strange heaviness had infused the air when the tent changed, and now my body felt soft and languid and full of need. All I could think about were the images and stories that I\u2019d seen and read. And there must have been something mind-scrambling at work, as well, because mixed in with all those ancient remnants I\u2019d absorbed the woman who sat across the table from me seemed to be suddenly, deeply, entangled in my thoughts.<\/p>\n<p>The woman blinked her large, dark eyes. \u201cYou said you wanted access to the city,\u201d she said. \u201cBut it\u2019s not as easy as simply arriving here. Or even just asking, unfortunately.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I shifted on my cushion. What was the woman suggesting?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou see, the city isn\u2019t quite so lost\u2013or so dead\u2013as some think it to be. As you think it to be,\u201d the woman said.<\/p>\n<p>The idea was mind-boggling. \u201cAre you saying the city is\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe city you seek thrives,\u201d the woman affirmed, \u201cand you may very well be allowed to see it. But the ways of Alkaz are the same as they have been for centuries, and not everyone would be able to understand those ways.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAlkaz,\u201d I breathed. The name fit everything I\u2019d heard\u2013and hoped\u2013about the city.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe pictures, the stories that have survived of the city\u2019s history, those are how Alkaz reaches out to find those who may be\u2026compatible.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s mad.\u201d I laughed. \u201cThose things, they didn\u2019t bring me to the city. Researching the city led to me finding the stories\u2026\u201d I trailed off, convicted by her eyes and the honesty between us.<\/p>\n<p>She finished my thought. \u201cAnd led you to the city.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t want to be convinced. Who would want to think their actions driven by something beyond them, that some ancient city was forcing them to live and breathe and, finally, venture forth? And yet\u2026the idea was alluring. It seemed as if I\u2019d been chosen.<\/p>\n<p>But there were challenges left to conquer. I steeled myself, clenched my fingers together, and asked, \u201cWhat\u2019s next?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow comes the final step of your test. Will you be able to live in Alkaz? Would you be able to handle the gifts that the city would give you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>All sense of firm belief was gone, lost in the haze of the desert heat and the throbbing pulse of desire that I couldn\u2019t seem to shake. I found myself leaning forward, found the table wasn\u2019t there anymore and it was just me and her, alone. The sides of the tent had gone and we were on a rug, on the sand, bathed in moonlight.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat do you want me to do?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n<p>The woman raised a brow and asked, \u201cWhat do you want to do?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The question set off the arousal that had been smoldering, the simple words leaving my body and mind in a blaze fit to immolate.<\/p>\n<p><em>(Download the book to read the rest!)<\/em><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">[wp_eStore_fancy2 id=107]<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>ebook $3.99 ISBN 9781885865946 20,710 words [wp_eStore_add_to_cart id=107] Also available at Amazon, Barnes&amp;Noble.com, Smashwords, Scribd, Rainbow Ebooks, All Romance Ebooks, Trapezium, the iBookstore, Diesel, and elsewhere. A wanderer seeks access to a legendary forbidden city\u2013but not before she convinces the mysterious gatekeeper of her worth. A Sultan gets more than he bargained for when a &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/circlet.com\/?page_id=293\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Like A Veil edited by Michelle Labbe &#038; Cecilia Tan<\/span> <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"parent":871,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-293","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/293","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=293"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/293\/revisions"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/871"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=293"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}