The General's Captive

By Nora O. Eigil

Charlotte, a beautiful Ph.D. student, is backpacking through middle Eastern countries with her boyfriend. An unforeseen event makes her desperate to get home quickly, so she takes the quickest – and most dangerous – route through a war-struck area. She becomes an unwitting victim of the ongoing war when she is suddenly taken captive by the rebel militant army.

 

As Charlotte struggles to come to terms with her new reality and the loneliness, she finds herself drawn to the only person in the camp who speaks English - the General. Her captor. Despite his role as her captor, she is unable to resist his alpha male sexual energy and they begin a steamy and erotic affair.

 

As the days pass, Charlotte finds herself walking a difficult path as she tries to navigate her growing feelings for the General while also trying to survive mentally. The conflict between her desires and her need for freedom creates inner conflict that rises with each passing moment.

 

As their passionate connection grows, Charlotte is faced with a difficult choice. She must decide whether to stay with the General and fight by his side or leave him behind and try to save herself.

 

It is a must-read for anyone who loves a war romance page-turner with erotica.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nora O. Eigil
• Release date: Dec 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223712855

Nora O. Eigil

As a young Danish girl, I moved abroad to pursue a career in the hospitality world. What I also found was passion, love and heartache.  Partly based on my own life, and partly fiction, I hope you will enjoy my stories. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

Every bump in the road , and there were plenty of them, made the overcrowded bus shake and bounce. Each bump sent us out of our seats, and I looked up at my backpack on the luggage rack, hoping it didn't fall and hit someone.

Among the 20 passengers, I was the only foreigner. Most likely because the bus route went through territory controlled by a militant rebel army. I knew it could be dangerous, but I took the bus anyway. I wanted to get home right now, and this route would save me 16 hours. Leander stayed behind with his new lover, the Australian girl, whom I had foolishly paid no attention to until I found them together. Naked. In bed. So much for our planned three-month trip together.

I studied anthropology with an interest in stateless ethnic groups, and my trip to the region should serve as inspiration for my thesis. Leander was just along for the company. It was safe to say that he was the one who had enjoyed the trip the most.

The sound of gunfire filled the air. The bus came to a screeching halt. My backpack fell to the ground, women screamed, and chaos filled the bus. It's hard to explain what I felt when I realized what was happening. You always think it only happens to others. That it only happens in movies. That it's not real. I froze. I didn't scream; I didn't move.

Men in military clothing kicked the door open and shot the driver. Just like that. Cold-blooded. They pointed their machine guns at us, ordering us out of the bus. I didn't need an interpreter to understand the meaning of their words. I knew I should focus on what was happening, but instead, my head was filled with all sorts of thoughts. Would my parents be told I was dead? What about Leander? Would he even care that I was dead? How does it feel to die?

The soldiers searched the bus and our belongings, then divided us into groups. They shouted something, and everybody got down on their knees with hands behind their heads. I followed without hesitation and prepared myself to feel the cold steel from a gun against my head.

Wailing, screaming, and shouting filled the air, but I did my best to tune it out and focus on my breathing and the landscape, awaiting my execution. It felt like we kneeled on the ground for an eternity, and yet nothing happened to us.

Suddenly, I heard chatter on the radios, and on the horizon, I could see sand-camouflaged vehicles racing toward us, kicking up clouds of dust behind them. My fight or flight response was so intense that I felt completely numb inside. My reptilian brain kicked in, knowing exactly how to play dead; my body just needed to follow suit.

The vehicles came to a screeching halt in a whirlwind of dust, and soldiers were shouting. Divided into several groups, we were herded into the vehicles.

THE SOLDIERS HAD TAKEN my mobile, and without it, I didn’t know for how long we drove. But as long as we were in the vehicle, at least we weren’t being executed. That was a comfort.

I looked around at the other hostages in the vehicle. We were the only women in this vehicle. I knew there had been men as well on the bus, but they were most likely on their way somewhere else. Some of the women were crying, others had a blank stare and didn’t move. I guess their reptilian brain had taken over too. You could almost smell the fear in the vehicle.

I let out a deep breath. My hands were shaking, but that was the only small sign of fear escaping my control. I knew I was a few inches away from an anxiety attack, but if I focused on my breathing and tried to block out any thoughts, I might just hold it together. 

Eventually, it looked like we were reaching our destination. In front of us, an enormous military tent camp came into view. As we drove closer, I could see the whole area was secured with barbed wire and soldiers with machine guns. Hopelessness spread through my body as I realized I couldn't escape from here. The soldiers pushed us out of the vehicle, and several women fell to the ground. I cursed under my breath.

With guns pointed at us, we were herded toward a large tent. They had no reason to threaten us with weapons; we were unarmed women in a camp with battle-hardened soldiers. Soldiers with hungry stares grouped together, adding to the turmoil. We were surrounded by soldiers everywhere, and it was no longer my execution, I was most concerned about. We hurried into the tent, hoping for safety.

It was a large, elongated tent, open on one entire long side and one end. Inside, there were blankets and cushions spread on the ground. A group of women of all ages were busy sewing, talking, or even sleeping. A few children were playing outside. Clearly, we were not the first hostages to come to this camp. By the looks of it, I was the only foreigner, though. The only foreigner who had been stupid enough to take a bus through this area.

Chapter 2

Icouldn't breathe . I couldn't swallow. I couldn't scream for help. In a desperate attempt to catch my breath, I crawled forward in the darkness while my heart raced. " I'm dying ," a voice screamed in my head. Then I