Jade Buchanan

Author Jade Buchanan hits another one out of the ballpark with Marked, an M/M themed character driven romance.  The passion literally scorches the pages as well as the dynamics between the three very different men.  Marked has a solid setup with heroes and villains against the backdrop of a future time and place.  In fact, the only weak point for me was the actual climax as it was over too quickly, I was hoping for it to be more drawn out with greater action.  Regardless, Spaceport Adana has hosted many stories and Marked is definitely a worthy addition plus its wonderful sensual fun to read!

Reviewed by Lisa, Joyfully Reviewed

 

(4 Angels!) Looking for a light, quick, read that will leave you breathless with desire? Then Spaceport: Marked is the novella for you. Written with Jade Buchanan’s usual flair for a good sensual scene, Spaceport: Marked has the added bonus of having not one, not two, but three hot men in the bedroom, and the office, and…. you get the idea. Chet is that sensual creature that has a strong inner core that isn’t readily apparent. Ainsley has to maintain the front of the smooth, polished politician to keep the confidence of the people under his governance, and Dinesh is pure, smoking, hot alpha male who fills the protector role with delicious ease. I wanted to eat all three men up. When they are together the steam almost rises off the screen. While the plot outside the bedroom was a bit thin, it matters not one whit. Jade Buchanan has written a feast for this ravenous lover of homoerotic fiction.

Reviewed by Hayley, Fallen Angel Reviews

© Jade Buchanan, all rights reserved.

 

With a snarl of impatience, Dinesh D'Ahnanjay Girisha waited for the ship to finish docking at their designated bay. The airlock slid open, and an official in a grey and red uniform stood in front of him.

 

“Welcome to Spaceport Adana. I need to inspect your ship. It will be five hundred credits.” She didn’t even bother to look up from her scanner.

 

Dinesh stood still, waiting.

 

Finally, the official glanced up with a scowl on her face. He narrowed his gaze, curling his lip.

 

Backing away quickly, she nodded. “O-or not. P-please, enjoy your stay. Sir.”

 

Nodding, Dinesh strode forward, stopping just outside the doors. He swept his gaze over the surrounding area, taking notice of everyone in the vicinity.

 

Five Kalha disembarked after him, the last snickering when she met his gaze. He didn’t deal often with the artisans, but Marga obviously felt comfortable with him after their journey here from their home world, Nil Raja.

 

“You do know it is customary for the ‘Port officials to get their credits, Master Durgha.” Marga grinned briefly before snapping out a fan and holding it in front of her face.

 

He bowed to her. “Lady Kalha. I will not pay them to dock here.” He curled his lip again. If he’d had a choice, he would never have come to this pit.

 

“It is the rules.”

 

“They are not my rules.”

 

Nodding, she turned to view the Spaceport, her robes swirling around her body. Marga’s long hair was bound intricately, confined in hundreds of braids around her head, baring the delicate blue swirls that ran up the back of her neck. The artisans were always trying to make themselves as beautiful as their artwork. He’d had to wait an inordinately long time for them to finish fixing their hair before they’d even deign to get off the ship.

 

A woman strode toward them, moving swiftly. Dinesh assessed her, seeing the warrior inside. She was like him, then.

 

“Master Durgha. Lords and Ladies Kalha. Welcome to Spaceport Adana.”

 

So, she knew their customs, by addressing him as his caste and not his name. He was slightly impressed. She had just managed to raise his estimate of this backwater ‘Port from piss poor to poor. Although, it was also possible she didn’t know his name. He didn’t care to share it with her.

 

He bowed his head, noticing her gaze going to the broadsword strapped to his back.

“I’m Commander Kala Decoltéir, in charge of ‘Port Security. Councilman Porter asked me to meet you here. I ensure you, you’ll be safe while on the ‘Port.”

 

He remained silent. He didn’t trust the security of this place. The only one who could keep the artisans safe was himself. It was extremely unusual for the Kalha to leave Nil Raja. This was something almost unheard of. The only thing more unlikely would be if one of the Prabha, the priests, had come here.

 

Following the Commander and his five Kalha down the busy corridor, Dinesh ignored the looks their party was receiving. You’d think these Adana had never seen Nil Raja before.

 

A wash of smells assaulted his nose, the clatter of hundreds of people alarming to his ears. He didn’t like this. It would be too easy to be caught unaware. There were just too many people. He’d never seen so many different species all in one place before. They shouted over each other, moving swiftly to one destination or another. Above and below, the sights were the same, each floor a hive of activity.

 

It appeared uncontrolled, but his trained eye caught the synchronicity underlying the actions. These people were almost performing a dance, each step rehearsed. They had roles, whether they were born to them or not, that determined their place inside the ‘Port. It was not unlike the Nil Raja themselves. Interesting. Everyone seemed to have their own position to play within the larger framework of the Spaceport.

 

The Commander moved them swiftly along Level 6, taking them toward the Council offices where they would meet this Councilman who had asked them to come to the Spaceport. He didn’t know much about the man, and it didn’t really matter. He was here to protect the artisans, not negotiate their services for them.

 

Pausing, the Commander glanced down at the immediate level below them. Something had obviously caught her attention. Dinesh readied the weapon at his side, following her gaze. The Kalha gasped, talking amongst themselves softly. Dinesh couldn’t determine exactly what had the Commander’s attention. He wasn’t familiar enough with the Spaceport to see what was out of the ordinary below.

 

What he did see was enough to have him snarling softly. Men and women prowled the corridors below, crying out their offers for various sexual acts. Booths were set up, various men lined up outside them, obviously waiting to receive their pleasure from the individuals within. Prostis offered themselves, being taken right in the open, a fast exchange of credits and a few words enough to conclude each transaction.

 

Otha prowled the walkways, their beauty apparent even from here. His cock hardened at the sight of so many of them in one place. In and among them, abominations plied their trade, tattooed to look like Otha. They should be slain for daring to wear those markings. Nil Raja markings were unique to each individual, identifying their caste and their family lineage all in one glance. For someone to intentionally wear the marks of someone else was so wrong it made his skin crawl. His fingers itched to grab his broadsword and cut through the fakes in one sweep. They needed to be taught their place.