If I may, I'd like to offer a sample of my story from Chapter 1:
“My Lord, I am here!”
All attention turned toward the new voice. Amrita silently cursed as Shadyia swept the hood off her sapphire gown and stepped to the center of the room. At his nod, Dunstan's men rushed forward and seized her arms.
“Mercy, Lord,” Amrita said. “She’s just a girl.”
Dunstan’s gaze followed Shadyia’s curves. “She’s no girl,” he said, sneering. “And from the way William boasted, he’s quite taken with her. But after my men are finished he won’t find her so attractive. Let this stand as a warning. My horse is not to be defeated, at the Diamond, or anyplace else.”
Hearty laughter made Dunstan turn his head, scowling at the interruption. Shadyia had collapsed in his men’s arms, her face hidden behind a mass of dark hair hanging down. Dunstan threw back his shoulders and laughed, but Amrita furrowed her brow, not understanding what Shadyia hoped to accomplish. True, no man enjoyed battering an unconscious girl, but how long could she continue the act before they roused her with slaps and cruelty?
The Wolfguard with the curved dagger released Shadyia’s arm and moved to face her, forcing his companion to take her weight. Gathering a fistful of black hair, he jerked her head upright but his grin melted when met with the blue fire of Shadyia's open eyes. His face scrunched in confusion, he failed to notice Shadyia reaching low and sliding his curved blade from its sheath. The upward cut she dealt beneath his chin reddened her face. Grasping his spurting artery in two hands, the Wolfguard released her hair, giving Shadyia room to reverse the dagger and plunge it backward into the belly of the man who still held her. In disbelief, Amrita watched the shrieking guard drop Shadyia’s arm and snatch over his shoulder at his broadsword. Pivoting on the balls of her feet, Shadyia pulled free the dagger and slashed open the Wolfguard’s throat in one smooth circle. In truth, it was beautifully done; four seconds, three cuts, and two of Dunstan's finest were down, thrashing in their own blood.
“You bitch,” Lord Dunstan said, his blacksteel blade hissing from its scabbard in a swift, practiced draw.
Sisters pulled back their hoods and stared with mouths agape as Shadyia tossed aside the dagger. Stooping low, she put her foot on the shoulder of the Wolfguard and slid free his half-drawn broadsword. Swinging the blade high in two hands, she faced Dunstan.
“Yes, come to me, whore,” Dunstan said, slashing the air. “I’ve killed eleven men in duels.”
“A fine sport,” Shadyia said as blood dripped off her chin. “I've bagged two today.”