A Spy's Love

By A.S. Peavey

It’s time to tell the full story of Mata Hari.
It’s time to learn what goes on behind Mata Hari’s bedroom door.

The Great War has destroyed Mata Hari’s career as a dancer. She once lived for the persona she created herself, a religious dancer stripping for her gods as much as the high-class crowds of men and women she entertained. Of course, she didn’t just entertain men while on the stage. She offered private entertainment to the rich and powerful—including, some say, the Crown Prince of Germany—as a courtesan.

But the Great War hasn’t just rocked Mata Hari’s life for the worse. It has offered her a new career—as a spy for the Germans. She may not enjoy all aspects of that job, but she loves the methods she employs. Mata Hari sleeps with French, English, and Russian officers, to lure them not only into her bed, but also into a false sense of security. Her employers then exploit the secrets they have access to.

The trouble is that Mata Hari finds herself falling in love with a Russian officer, Vladimir Maslov—or Vadim as he insists Mata Hari call him. While Vadim doesn’t mind her philandering, their love will bring her conflict with her German spymaster. Even worse, it will bring her to the notice of the French espionage directorate.

A Spy’s Love is part 1 of The Seductions of Mata Hari

Warning: contains explicit descriptions of adult behavior.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.S. Peavey
• Release date: Aug 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370473656

A.S. Peavey

A.S. Peavey began writing erotica in a micro caption-based form (which you can check out on Tumblr), before branching to explore the world of longer form stories and novels. Peavey is excited by the opportunities offered to expand on those shorter stories, and grasp what tugs at the libido. Peavey lives along the Rocky Mountains, going out to hike and bike when time and the weather allow.

Book preview

A Spy’s Love

Part 1 of The Seductions of Mata Hari

A.S. Peavey

Copyright 2016 A.S. Peavey

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted by applicable copyright laws, no portion of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without the express written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.

Published by Peavey Publishing

ASPeavey.com

Warning: contains explicit descriptions of adult behavior.

CONTENTS

Title

Copyright Page

Table of Contents

1. Uniforms

2. Vladimir Maslov

3. A (Decent) Proposal

4. Courtesan and Spy

5. News from the Front

Other Works by A.S. Peavey

About the Author

1 Uniforms

The uniforms.

What is it that makes a man look dashing, sexy, or what have you, just by virtue of something that everyone else around him wears? Especially in the middle of a war? The year was 1916, and Paris was thronged with military men. Only a fraction were the dashing and heroic type—far more were conscripted. And in Paris it was hard to tell which men in uniform were actually deserters from the front and not officers or soldiers on leave to celebrate their heroic achievements.

Mata Hari, the great dancer, the great courtesan, still did not know why she loved men in uniform. She only knew that she loved how men strutted in their uniforms. She loved the way those uniforms gave the lie to their characters; she could dance with men who did not deserve it and yet she would be envied by women who couldn’t gain the attention of even these false heroes.

Of course, Mata Hari could also dance with men who deserved more recognition than their uniforms could make clear. Mata Hari had fallen in love with those uniforms at a time when war did not rage. There was always fighting to be found, of course. Her first—and scandalously divorced—bastard of a husband, Rudolf MacLeod, served in the Dutch Colonial Army, occasionally seeing action against native rebels. But for most officers in most eras the dangers—and opportunities for heroism—were few and far between. That certainly was true for the French officers she had met when she arrived in Paris a decade ago.

She cared naught for the difference between those men of training and these men who had seen battle. She tried not to follow the war, to ignore its effects, except to know that more officers in uniform could be seen on the streets.

Of course, Mata Hari’s work forced her to attend to the war effort.

Mata Hari had her own uniform—at least she had her own costume full of lies. According to legends she had spread, Mata Hari was a half Javanese, Hindu dancer despite being of strictly Dutch Christian extract. Her dark (for a northern European) skin helped sell the persona. Though it was a lie, though she had adopted it because she could be a celebrity by borrowing from her experiences in the Dutch East Indies, she much preferred that life, that costume, to her native one.

She spread so many lies; as time passed, they multiplied. Though the greatest lie was one of omission—why she slept with so many officers. Of course she enjoyed their company—and their technique. If one thing was