Archive for the ‘Sample Sunday’ Category

Sample Sunday for May 13th

Posted: May 13, 2012 in Excerpts From My Books, My Books, Sample Sunday
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I’ve been so busy that I hadn’t realised just how long it is since I did a Sample Sunday posting. May 13th seems like a great date to kick off again, so here we go with something from The Hun and The General. Mud seems a pretty appropriate subject, at least here in the UK!

The Hun and The General – History with a Twist

Published By: Etopia Press

Published: Dec 02, 2011

ISBN # 9781936751914

Word Count: 28,173
Heat Level:
Blurb
Livianus is bored and longs for action. His reward for serving Rome is the governorship of a quiet corner of Gaul, but as he whiles away his days at his sumptuous villa, his thoughts turn to Attila the Hun, the feared barbarian with whom Livianus once enjoyed an intimate friendship. When a desperate emperor asks him to return to Pannonia to broker a truce with Attila, Livianus’s old passion flares. Attila is losing the will to go on. He is tired of being a tyrant but his people’s future depends on him. The arrival of Livianus renews Attila’s spirit as he prepares to march on Constantinople. Livianus has nothing to bargain with, but when the emperor’s sister delivers a proposition for Attila, a new and brighter future seems to lay directly ahead. For the people, and especially for the two men. But the deadly hand of the emperor isn’t interested in peace, and as their plans are destroyed, only one course of action remains open to the Hun and the general.
Adult Excerpt

Livianus fell back into the mud with a huge squelch. Attila stood astride him, like a grinning colossus, his muscles caked in brown sludge. “Come on, Livianus. You’re supposed to beat me. I didn’t bring you here to dominate you. Fight, man.”

“But why the mud? What was wrong with the ground?” Attila’s mud pit had been yet another surprise addition since Livianus’s last visit. A huge hollow surrounded by a tall, wooden fence, set some distance outside the main palisade.

“It’s good for you. And I like the feel of it on my skin. I like the way it makes combat harder—it’s more difficult to grip your opponent. Things slip and slide.”

Slipping into a clean bath and sliding into bed were the only things that Livianus wanted right at that moment. He tried to get up but his feet and hands slewed in different directions, and he collapsed onto his back.

Attila roared with laughter. “Here,” he said, reaching down, “I’ll pull you up.”

Livianus took Attila’s hand and felt the mud peel from his back as he rose to his feet. He steadied himself as Attila released his grip. Seizing the moment, Livianus swung his right leg behind Attila’s knee, and the Hun toppled to the ground, falling on his side. Livianus threw himself at Attila’s bulk and rolled him over onto his stomach, swiftly mounting him like a child riding on its father’s back. “What did you say about domination?”

Attila’s face was in the mud but his laughter rang out. “Finally, some spirit.”

Livianus wrenched Attila’s arms behind his back and held him by the wrists. He leaned back, raised his face to the sky and breathed deeply. “And now what? What shall the victor do to his captive?” He didn’t need to look down to know his cock had found new life. He felt the tingling in his groin and the hungriness of the swollen head. He moved his hips back and forth to slide the shaft against the slipperiness of Attila’s back.

“It’s a waste to do that,” said Attila. “I can think of a better place for it.”

“You want more?”

“Impale me.”

Livianus kept hold of Attila’s wrists, pulling tight as he shuffled down the Hun’s body until his cock slotted into the crease between Attila’s buttocks. The slot was slick with mud. He pushed, but his cock missed the target and sprang up into the air.

“Call yourself a marksman.” Attila chuckled.

Livianus grasped Attila’s wrists with one hand, using the other to guide his cock home. He thrust his hips forward, and his cock pried Attila open. He pressed as hard as he could, going in to the hilt with one movement. This time Attila groaned, and Livianus felt the Hun trying to writhe beneath him. The anal muscles tightened as if to cut off Livianus’s cock, and a wave of pleasure washed over him. He drove his cock deep, then withdrew almost completely before sliding in again, over and over. With each thrust his balls pulled tighter, and the pressure mounted at the root of his cock. As his breathing became faster and deeper, his head swam as if in some drug-induced trance.

The twittering wives came nowhere close to this. No one had ever given so much pleasure to Livianus. As his cock thickened, he looked down on the warrior king. There he was, the feared ogre, submissive as a puppy, face in the mud, hands behind his back. Livianus came instantly, his body shuddering as he pumped his seed into Attila. The orgasm sapped all his strength, and he let go his grip on Attila. Immediately, Attila snatched his hands back, put them to the ground and raised himself up. Livianus slipped off him, and in a flash Attila was on his feet, pointing his mud-caked cock at Livianus’s face. Attila gripped his shaft in one hand and pulled Livianus’s head forward with the other. Livianus knew what he had to do and opened his mouth wide. The coating of earth dissolved in his saliva, and he spat before continuing. Attila grunted, and his salty seed sprayed Livianus’s mouth. As Attila thrust forward, a fountain of pleasure, Livianus pictured the Hun with his mane of straggly hair and beard, a memory of the lion head fountains back at the villa in Gaul.

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The Hun and The General – Sunday Sample

Posted: March 11, 2012 in Excerpts From My Books, My Books, Sample Sunday
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It’s a long time since I did Sample Sunday, so here’s a little offering from my historical novella and All Romance Ebooks bestseller, The Hun and The General. I hope you enjoy it.

Tris

An All Romance Bestseller

Livianus woke with a heavy heart. Caecilius would not listen to him. In some ways he admired the younger man for the strength of his convictions but nothing could persuade Livianus that it was right to stand by a weak and unreliable emperor. Not when the empire was at stake.

He turned on his side, surprised to see the space beside him empty. Attila had taken him to his bed, and they had fallen asleep entwined in one another, discussing their plans. But for Caecilius’s stubbornness, Livianus felt happier than he had for a long time. If he had any regrets, it was that he had to leave this place at all, and he knew that the likelihood of returning was as remote as the farthest corner of Britannia. Siege or no siege, the campaign would be bloody.

Livianus got out of bed, slipped on his clothes and picked up the scroll he’d prepared the night before. He tapped it on his chin, then went outside to look for Caecilius. Attila had agreed to let Caecilius leave on condition that he stayed away from Ravenna and Constantinople, at least until Theodosius had been toppled. Still, Livianus was under no illusions. The odds were stacked against Caecilius. The future of an entire people, of two nations in fact, carried more importance than that of one man.

He found Caecilius and the four soldiers ready to depart, the horses loaded with provisions that Attila provided. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”

“I’m sure, Livianus. It pains me more than you can know to leave you in these circumstances, but I will not be a part of this.”

Livianus took hold of Caecilius’s hand and squeezed it. “I fear for you, my friend. Please, stay with me.”

Caecilius snatched his hand free. “It is not for me you should worry, but for yourself. Whatever my fate, I go to it with a clear conscience.”

Livianus sighed. “Then take this.” He handed Caecilius the scroll. “This makes you the rightful owner of my villa and all that goes with it—the women, the slaves and the governorship.” He remembered his ring, the governor’s seal, and tugged it from his finger. “Here, it’s yours now.”

Caecilius took the ring, scrutinized it silently, and slipped it onto his finger. “Livianus, are you sure—”

“I’m sure. Go, before one of us weakens.”

The sound of horses greeted Livianus as he turned away from his old friend, a dozen Huns armed to the teeth with swords and recurved bows. Livianus counted five of them with stakes strapped to their mounts. He felt sadness more than surprise. He looked again at Caecilius, ready to plead another time, but he could see from the expression on his friend’s face that it would be futile.

“We are to escort you to the other side of the river.” The leader of the Hun warriors, a scar-faced brute with a thin, gray beard and black teeth, addressed Caecilius and his soldiers.

Caecilius mounted his horse. Livianus felt as if a great rock sat upon his chest. He grasped Caecilius by the ankle and looked him in the eyes. “In the name of the gods, think again.”

“Never.” Caecilius dug his heels into the horse’s flanks, and it skittered forward. “Come on, men. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

Livianus, head bowed, made his way to Attila’s palace without looking back. The sound of the hooves faded quickly into the distance, and he felt a gloom settle upon him. Sometimes the weight of statesmanship was too much to bear. When he entered Attila’s chamber, the Hun king was seated on his throne looking toward the door.

“Don’t look so worried.”

“I wish he’d joined with us,” said Livianus, closing the door behind him.

“You did all you could. You’ve been very generous. He will have a comfortable life in Gaul.”

“Will he? I saw what your men carried, Attila. I’m not a fool.”

“And I am not a complete barbarian. The stakes are to help them cross the river, nothing more.”

Livianus groaned.

Sample Sunday – Lorenzo il Magnifico

Posted: January 29, 2012 in Excerpts From My Books, Reviews, Sample Sunday
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Excerpt from a recent review:

“A very realistic Italy too, dirty and messy, complete with Vespas, Alfas, dangerous drivers and obnoxious dog poops…I really enjoyed the style of this book, quite a lot grittier than most romance I ever read, and almost harsh in places, but in a very engaging way. There is a wicked sense of humour …”

Access the full review here.

Here’s an 18+ excerpt:

The bells of the Duomo rendered Luke’s alarm surplus to requirements. He lay stunned for a few moments, trying to remember where he was. The sleep had been so deep he felt as if he were crawling out of some burrow after a long winter. He tried to assemble his bedroom in his mind but the door was on the wrong side, the light shone through the window too brightly. The sun!

“Shit!” He jumped out of bed and found his watch. Seven o’clock. Plenty of time. How could he forget he was in Florence? How could he forget the evening with Lorenzo? He felt his cock, running his thumb inside the foreskin. It was still wet and slippery like a ripe avocado. He smiled as he walked to the bathroom.

He showered longer than necessary, his tight muscles easing under the hot spray, admiring his body in the full length mirror. He ran a soapy hand over his stomach, hard as steel and shining like glass as the water sheeted over the muscles. He’d look as good as anyone on the beach today. A little pale, but good.

He dried himself on the abrasive towel and whizzed the hairdryer over his head a couple of times before fingering gel into his hair. He looked again in the mirror and reached for his scissors; his pubes needed just the tiniest of trims. He smiled at the Poirotesqueness of it all and wondered if the Belgian detective paid as much attention to his pubic hair as to his mustache.

A day on the beach with Lorenzo. He sighed with contentment. It was all he had hoped for just… blimey, was it really only yesterday? Less than twenty-four hours had passed. Lucky that he had chosen Lorenzo’s trattoria. Now he would have him all to himself today. Maybe they would fuck in the pineta? The last time he’d done it with, what was his name, Roberto? No, that wasRome, on the banks of theTiber. Cute Roberto with the pencil dick. Luke could have taken him all night and not felt a thing the next day. No, the pineta had been with Marco. Marco with balls like goose eggs and a cock as thick as Luke’s wrist. Luke had ripped the bark off the pine tree bracing himself and ended up wheeling the rented bike back to the hotel.

He slipped into a pair of black Speedos, then put on some loose, grey shorts and a very tight matching vest. He chose a red cotton long-sleeved shirt which he left loose, and took a final look in the mirror. Content, he grabbed his day bag and went down to the bar at street level. He needed coffee.

If you want to buy Lorenzo il Magnifico, links are in the left hand sidebar.

Sample Sunday: The Hun and The General

Posted: January 15, 2012 in Excerpts From My Books, My Books, Sample Sunday
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From his throne, Attila watched Livianus as a fox watches a rabbit. The Roman’s ability to win the Hun warriors over was remarkable. He chose his words carefully, as a skilled orator should. Livianus had once proved himself a great asset to the Huns and was about to do it a second time. And this time, Attila did not intend to lose him to the provinces. Attila had needs himself, and Livianus’s arrival had reminded him that his own happiness mattered just as much as his people’s.

Livianus moved gracefully for a soldier, and his red cloak swayed about him like the flames of a great fire. Attila pictured the toned body underneath, which only a short time before had filled him with such divine pleasure. Livianus was too good a gift to let slip through his fingers again. If they could win approval for his marriage to Honoria, Attila would build a new nation—the power of the Huns and the culture of the Romans. He would weed out the rot from the core of Rome and replace it with solidity. The new nation would be a place where Livianus could assume an important role, something more suited to his abilities than being a farmer-governor, and be close to Attila as they grew old.

“Finally, consider what it is your people need at this point in your history.” Livianus walked between the men as he spoke, touching each on the shoulder. “In many ways, although Attila has built this commendable city, the Huns are like refugees constantly traveling. What you need, what those women and children out there”—he pointed to the walls of the chamber—“need more than anything are a permanent and secure base, a regular source of food, and so vital to building a future, a renewed sense of identity…pride.”

The council members nodded and grunted. Attila smiled and waited for Livianus to close.

“All of these things will be in your grasp in a new, united empire with the great Attila as its leader.”

Attila joined Livianus among the men and put an arm around his shoulder. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Now, men, what say you?”

“I say yes,” said Octar. “I don’t trust Honoria any more than I do her brother, but a woman will be easier to control, especially with Attila on the throne.”

“I agree.” Ragnaris looked ten years younger, as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. “No race can go on stealing and destroying forever. Soon there will be nothing left to steal—then what do we do?”

“And you, Barbax?” Attila turned to his second in command. “What say you?”

Barbax drew in a breath and blew it out with the sound of wind racing across the plains. “The alternatives are worse. This could work, but I would like to have Livianus’s assurance that he will help us. We are fighters, not politicians. He has much experience that can be put to good use, and we know we can trust him.”

Attila glowed inside. He needed the call for Livianus to stay by him to come from his men. Of course, he could do what he damn well liked with his own life, but it would all work so much more smoothly if he had Livianus apparently foisted upon him. “Your wisdom grows by the day, Barbax. An excellent idea.” Attila turned his attention once again on Livianus. “Tell us, would you commit yourself to this, rather than hurry back to Gaul?”

Livianus seemed taken aback; his hands trembled and the words, usually so quick to spill from his lips, stumbled across his tongue. “Well, I…er, yes, I mean…yes, of course.”

“He doesn’t sound so sure,” Chuvash said with a snort.

“No, I am sure.” Livianus straightened and became still. “I give you my solemn word. For as long as your king deems it necessary, I shall be honored to help you. It will be a bigger maze than Midas built at Knossos that we face, but I shall be proud to play my part.”

Attila laughed heartily. In part to show his genuine delight to his men, but also to camouflage his deep emotions. Tears pricked at his eyes when he heard Livianus announce he would stay, and it would not do for a Hun to be seen crying. Livianus was as shrewd as that vixen Honoria. With those few words he’d made the council feel indebted to him for staying behind and forsaking his comfortable life at his villa. He was a good actor as well as a soldier and statesman. Only Attila knew how easy the decision had been for the Roman general.

Sample Sunday – The Hun and The General

Posted: January 8, 2012 in My Books, Sample Sunday
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An All Romance Bestseller : Click Image To Buy

Outwardly, Attila had not changed much in the years that had passed. A little gray hair at his temples, and perhaps his beard struggled to hide his chin more than it used to, but his face was as full, cheeks ruddy from the outdoor life. Those eyes were still as green as a summer meadow. His frame, even under the felt pants and the coarse shirt, seemed as muscular and tight as a bull’s. Yet in his manner Livianus detected something new. Was it weariness or just doubt? His eyes betrayed an element of confusion. Well, that made two of them.

Livianus took the goblet of ale and slaked his thirst. “You look well, Attila. And you’ve improved this place since I was last here. I detect traces of Rome.” He smiled and let his eyes wander over the circular chamber. The stone walls, once rough and bare, had now been dressed in parts with plaster panels on which naive frescoes of battles and hunts had been painted. His eyes halted at a graphic, if amateurish, portrayal of an impalement. He winced.

“I learned also from you. And I have a surprise for you, when you have refreshed yourself.” Attila seemed to perk up. “Something very Roman, though I never imagined in a thousand years that I would have the chance to share it with you.” Attila’s broad smile furrowed his brow with lines, and his eyes twinkled. “But first, tell me what has brought you here. I thought you were settled in your far corner of Gaul, done with soldiering and diplomacy.”

Livianus set his goblet on the table. Even that had changed, the once-bare wood now decorated with rudimentary mosaics. He suppressed a smile and swallowed hard. “I’ll never settle, Attila. Not down there, at any rate. It bores me to death.”

“Nevertheless, I cannot believe your visit is to relieve the monotony.”

“No.” Livianus took a deep breath. “You are right. Tell me, is it true that you plan to attack Constantinople?”

Attila got to his feet and turned his back on Livianus. “So that’s it. Theodosius has heard, and he’s sent you here to dissuade me.” He swung around, and Livianus saw again the confusion in his eyes, now tinged with disappointment. “You come as an ambassador of that fox?” He almost spat the words.

Livianus reached out to take Attila’s hand but the Hun jammed his clenched fists by his sides.

“Attila, I come first as a friend—”

“But a friend of whom? That is the question.”

“Your friend, and a friend of peace. Always a friend of peace.”

“Look where peace has brought us. All that we agreed has been cast aside. Theodosius cares for no one but himself, not even his own empire.”

Livianus stood and drew nearer to Attila. “I may well agree with your analysis, and I assure you I am your friend. When I received the summons to come here, my heart raced with excitement. I don’t know if I have been in your thoughts but I have virtually survived on my memories of you and our times together.”

Attila unclenched his fists and his eyes softened.

“Give me your hand.” Livianus reached out again. “Let us not start on the wrong foot. We have much to resolve, and our purpose will be best served if we are at ease.”

Attila hesitated, then offered his hand.

Livianus smiled. The touch of the coarse skin flooded his head with memories. “Will you show me around? The city seems to have changed, from what little I saw. You’ve been building?”

“The population expands. It is nature’s way. The city grows to accommodate it. We expanded beyond the old palisade and threw a new one around the whole city. Compared to Constantinople, it is nothing, of that I am certain, and of no interest to you.”

Livianus tried a different approach. “You said you had a surprise? I’m quite refreshed now.”

A smile crept across Attila’s face. “Ah, yes, now that will interest you. Come, then.”

Livianus followed Attila around the throne, past the bed, and through a wooden door in the thick stone wall. They walked down a narrow corridor made of, or at least faced with, overlapping wooden planks. At the end, Attila turned around to face him. He almost filled the space, and the light from the room beyond seeped over his shoulders.

“Close your eyes.”

Livianus closed his eyes tightly and let Attila pull him forward. He couldn’t help giggling. His senses, honed to perfection in the army, told him he’d entered a much larger space. He sniffed at the air and detected moisture, water.

“You may look.” Attila’s voice sounded hollow.

Livianus snapped his eyes open. His jaw dropped. “What in the name of Vespa…”

The Hun and The General, like all my books, is available from Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk (and .de, .it, .fr), Barnes and Noble, All Romance E-Books, Sony E-Bookstore and others. Links are on the left.

Sample Sunday: The Hun and The General

Posted: December 18, 2011 in Competitions, My Books, Sample Sunday, Uncategorized
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An All Romance Bestseller : Click Image To Buy

Livianus sat on a stool at the side of the bath and watched Caecilius bathe. “I would join you but I can’t face the heat.”

“But you’ll swim with me?”

“That I will certainly do. I seem to spend half my time in the pool—it’s the only way to cope with the summers. The lack of activity makes me soft.”

“The soothsayers tell us these heat waves are the forerunners of a great disaster.”

“Do they ever have anything good to say? Doom mongers, that’s all they are. I’m surprised they have anyone’s ear in this day and age.”

“They’ve been right before.”

“We’ve all been right before. But we’ve been wrong more often.”

Caecilius lay on his back and floated to the surface. His body had lost none of its tightness, the water swilling over his stomach muscles like a stream over smoothed stones. He laid his head back in the water, and his hips broke the surface. The water flattened his pubic hair to his skin, making his thick cock look even longer than Livianus remembered.

Livianus felt his eyebrows arch. “Let’s swim. You’re as clean as you’re going to get,” he said, rising to his feet and adjusting his toga. “One good thing about this place is the spring that flows from the hills behind the villa. I have the best pool in Gaul.”

Caecilius climbed from the bath and shook off the excess water. He grabbed a towel and walked naked alongside Livianus. Out of the corner of his eye, Livianus saw Caecilius’s cock swinging like a loose stirrup, and a knot began to form in his groin.

“The rumors about this place are true,” said Caecilius, looking around.

“Rumors? About my villa? By Jupiter, have they nothing better to talk about?”

Caecilius chuckled. “You still swear on the old gods.”

“I feel my soul is safer that way.”

“Don’t forget you’re a hero. The people need to know that our heroes are well rewarded.”

“Ah, to encourage others to lay their lives on the line when the emperor requires it.” Livianus gestured toward the pool steps. “After you.”

Caecilius dropped his towel on the floor and descended the steps until the water reached his waist. “You’ve grown cynical in your retirement. Perhaps it doesn’t agree with you after all.” He lunged into the water, glided to the center, then turned onto his back. “What would you say if I told you I’d come to take you away from here?”

“I’d say about time. They call it retirement but it’s no better than a slow death. God, I thought Paestum was dull!” Livianus dived into the water and swam to his friend’s side. Caecilius hadn’t aged at all since they last met. Not a single gray hair on his head or chin. His brown eyes radiated youth and strength. “How long is it since we were together?”

“Four years. Maybe five.”

“Seems longer.” Livianus scooped his friend’s head toward him with a hand and pressed their lips together. “I’ve missed you, Caecilius,” he said as he tore his lips away. “Is it true you’ve come for me?”

And don’t forget my seasonal offer. Buy any one of my books before 31st December 2011 and you could win an Amazon voucher for £20/$15. Full details at this link:

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Buy Links are on the left.

#Sample Sunday: The Hun and The General

Posted: December 4, 2011 in My Books, Sample Sunday
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The first Sunday of December, the first excerpt from my new release. The Hun and The General is already a bestseller on All Romance Ebooks – thank you!

Click to Buy From Amazon

Pannonia, 5th Century AD

Attila smashed his fists into the table, toppling his cup of mare’s milk. “They call me The Scourge of God and yet dare to question my orders?”

The warrior held his king’s gaze. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t Your Highness me, you blubbering fool. I’m sick of your groveling, Barbax. Speak frankly to me, without fear.” Attila rounded the huge table and brought himself up close to the trembling warrior. “Or shall I have you impaled and left out on the plains as a warning to others?”

Barbax shook his head. His lower lip trembled and his voice wavered. “N-no, Attila. I beg you, not that. If I am to die, let it be by your hand, with your sword.”

Attila flung his arms wide and Barbax flinched.

“How could I kill you?” Attila laughed and slapped Barbax on the shoulder. “Of all my warriors, you are the one I need at my side when we take Constantinople.”

“Yes, Attila. Of course.” Barbax shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes averted.

“But?”

Barbax stared at him blankly.

“I’m waiting for the but. Come on, man, show me your guts. Tell me why we shouldn’t seize what’s left of the Roman Empire once and for all.” Attila turned to the table and saw the fallen goblet, the milk dripping off to soak into the mat on the floor. He bellowed to the far side of the room. “Girl, fetch ale.” He perched on the edge of the table and smiled. “Let us drink, my friend. See if the barley loosens your tongue more than your king’s wishes seem to.”

A slave girl scurried in, carrying a jug and two goblets, which she set on the table.

“Hurry up, woman, or I’ll tear your womb from you with my bare hands.” He grabbed the girl from behind as she bent over the table to pour the beer. He pulled her by the hips until his cock pressed against her buttocks. “Or maybe you’d like us both to give you a good fucking?” He let her go and laughed. “Away with you. We can pour our own ale.”

Attila filled one silver goblet and gave it to Barbax, then shook the dregs of milk from his wooden cup and served himself. He took a long swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well, get on with it then.”

Barbax swallowed hard. “Theodosius has made Constantinople impregnable.”

“Nothing is impregnable, except that Visigoth wife of yours.”

“The walls he’s built around the city are like nothing else on earth.”

“And nothing on earth has ever stopped us.”

“But this is different. Constantinople is weeks away.”

“We’ve marched farther.”

“But not with the machines we’ll need if we are to even break one brick. We’ll need battering rams and towers and—”

“And we’ll take them. We’ll take all we’ve got, ironworkers and carpenters too, and then we’ll take Constantinople. I’ll personally impale that snake Theodosius before I piss on his throne.” He drained his cup and slammed it onto the table. “Start the preparations. I want to leave before the rainy season.”

“But Attila—”

“But nothing! Now get out of my sight before I put you over the table and do what I should have done to that serving wench.”

Attila stroked his fine beard with his fingers and watched Barbax leave. Pillaging had served their people well, but they had need of greater wealth now. Yet despite his bravado, the warrior king hoped for an alternative to the march on Constantinople. Barbax spoke the truth. With so much to transport, they would move slowly. Word of their approach would reach Constantinople long before they did, and Emperor Theodosius would have time to prepare. What Attila needed was a miracle.