#medievalmonday2015 Knight of Runes by @RuthACasie #timetravel

 It's Medieval Monday Week 12

Please welcome historical fantasy romance 

author, Ruth A. Casie, 

with time travel historical...

Knight of Runes

 

When Lord Arik, a druid knight, finds Rebeka Tyler wandering his lands without protection, he swears to keep her safe. But Rebeka can take care of herself. When Arik sees her clash with a group of attackers using a strange fighting style, he's intrigued.

Rebeka is no ordinary seventeenth-century woman—she's traveled back from the year 2011, and she desperately wants to return to her own time. She poses as a scholar sent by the king to find out what's killing Arik's land. But as she works to decode the ancient runes that are the key to solving this mystery and sending her home, she finds herself drawn to the charismatic and powerful Arik.

As Arik and Rebeka fall in love, someone in Arik's household schemes to keep them apart, and a dark druid with a grudge prepares his revenge. Soon Rebeka will have to decide whether to return to the future or trust Arik with the secret of her time travel and her heart.

Excerpt

England ~ May, 1605

I should not have stayed away from the Manor so long. Something stirs. Lord Arik’s eyes swept the surrounding area as he and his three riders escorted the wagon with the old tinker and the woman. They sped through the forest as fast as the rain-slicked trail would allow. Unable to shake the ominous feeling of being watched, Arik remained alert. At length, the horses winded, he slowed the pace as they neared the Stone River.

“The forest is flooded. I suspect the Stone will be as well. Willem, ride on ahead and let me know what we face at the crossing.”

Willem did his lord’s bidding and quickly returned with his report. “The river ahead runs fast, m’lord. The bridge is in disrepair and cannot be crossed.”

Arik raised his hand and brought the group to a halt. “Doward,” he said to the old tinker. “We must make repairs. There’s no room for the wagon at the river’s edge. You and the woman stay here and set up camp. Be ready to join us at the bridge when I send word.”

Logan, Arik’s brother, spoke up. “I’ll keep watch here and help Doward and Rebeka.”

Arik nodded and, with the others, continued the half mile to the bridge.

“I am not pleased with this new delay.”

“It can’t be helped, m’lord. We would make better time without the wagon,” said Simon.

“I’ll not leave Doward and the woman unescorted through the forest, not with what we’ve heard lately. We’ll have to drive hard to make up the lost time.”

The frame of the bridge stood solid, the planks scattered everywhere, clogging the banks and shallows. Arik leaped from his horse onto the frame to begin the repairs.

“Hand me that planking.” Arik pointed to the nearest board.

Simon grabbed the plank and examined it. “Sir, these boards have been deliberately removed.”

Arik took the board and lifted it before him. An arrow whooshed out of the trees, and slammed into the plank’s edge. Willem pulled his axe from his belt as Arik and Simon drew their swords. In a fluid, practiced movement, Willem spun and found his mark. He sent his axe flying. The archer fell into the river and was swept downstream, Willem’s axe still lodged in his forehead. A dozen or more attackers broke through the stand of trees.

Arik tossed the board into the river and readied his sword. The enemy was poorly dressed carrying clubs and knives. There was only one sword among them. The leader. Arik’s target.

“They plan to pin us here at the river’s edge. Come, we’ll take the offensive before they form up.” They moved forward, driving a wedge through the enemy’s ragged line, forcing what little formation they had to scatter and fight, each man for himself.

A man, club in hand, rushed at Arik. Before the attacker could bring his weapon into play, Arik pivoted around him. He raised his sword high, and slammed the hilt’s steel pommel squarely on the man’s head. Arik moved on before the man’s lifeless body dropped to the ground.

Willem and Simon, on either side of Arik, advanced through the melee. Their swift continuous swordplay moved smoothly from one stroke to the next, whipping through the air. They slashed on the downswing and again on the backswing, sweeping their weapons back into position to repeat the killing sequence. The knight and his soldiers steadily advanced, punishing any man who dared to come near them.

     “For Honor!” Logan’s war cry carried from the small camp to Arik’s ears.

Arik stiffened. Both camps were now under attack. He pulled his blade from an attacker’s chest. The body crumpled to the blood-soaked ground. Arik breathed deeply, the coppery taste of blood in the air. “For Honor!” he bellowed in answer. His men echoed his call, arms thrown wide, muscles quivering, the berserker’s rage overtaking them.

The remaining attackers paled and fled headlong into the forest.

Motioning to his men to follow, Arik raced toward the camp. He could hear the shouts, and cursed himself for not seeing the danger. He crested the hill and came to an abrupt halt.

Logan’s sword ripped through the air as he protected Doward. The tinker drew his short blade and did as much damage as he could. But it was the woman Arik noticed. Her skirt hiked up, she twirled her walking stick like a weapon with an expertise that left him slack-jawed. She dispatched the attackers, one by one, in a deadly well-practiced dance. A man rushed toward her, knife in hand. The sneer on his face didn’t match the fear in his eyes. She stepped out of his line of attack, extended her stick to her side, and holding it with both hands swept the weapon forward, striking the attacker across the bridge of his nose. Blood exploded from his face in an arc of fine spray as his head snapped back. Droplets dusted her face creating an illusion of bright red freckles. As he fell, she reversed her swing and caught him hard behind his knees. He went down on his back, spread-eagled. She swung her stick over her head and landed a precise and disabling blow to his forehead that knocked him unconscious.

As she spun to face the next threat her eyes captured Arik’s and held. In the space of an instant, time slowed to a crawl. Her hair slowly loosened from its pins and swirled out around her. His breath caught and his heartbeat quickened as a rapturous surge raced through his body. Something eternal and familiar, with a sense of longing, unsettled him. In the next heartbeat, she tore her eyes away, leaving him empty. Time resumed its normal pace. Another attacker lay at her feet.

     Arik joined the fight.

Available at  Amazon  &  Nook 

Be sure to watch for the next round of Medieval Monday beginning April 6th. #medievalmonday2015

#medievalmonday2015 A Bit of Heaven on Earth @LaurenLinwood

Welcome to Week 11 of Medieval Monday

This week featuring 

A Bit of Heaven on Earth

by

Lauren Linwood

Blurb:

When Gavin of Ashgrove and his closest friend are captured in a fierce battle during the Hundred Years’ War, their captors demand a hefty ransom from their fathers for their return. Robert is quickly set free, but Gavin’s father refuses to pay for his son’s release, leaving him to rot in a squalid French prison. Aided by a sympathetic priest, he escapes and returns home to England, only to find he has been proclaimed a bastard and disinherited.

With nowhere to turn Gavin journeys to Kentwood, where he fostered as a boy, hoping Lord Aldred will take him on as a knight in his guard. The old warrior is close to death, but he soon realizes Gavin is his son. Aldred plots to have Gavin inherit Kentwood and marry his much younger wife, Elizabeth, a famed and opinionated beauty who remains a virgin after a decade of marriage.

Will the king recognize Lord Aldred’s first request of a marriage between Elizabeth and Robert, uniting Robert’s estate with Kentwood—or will the temperamental Edward reward Aldred’s years of service and honor a dying man’s final request?

Excerpt:
 Fear struck Elizabeth as Gavin’s lips met hers. A kiss! What was he thinking? She could not kiss him. She didn’t kiss anyone. Aldred’s feeble attempts over the years flittered into her mind. She stiffened in his arms.

Her hesitation did not stop him. His lips slowly brushed against hers. The sensation was most pleasant. A ripple of heat ran through her. His hand stroked her hair. Her scalp tingled. Her body relaxed.

Panic set in suddenly. She tensed again. She didn’t know what to do, how to respond. Yet respond she did, as if her body were no longer her own. Her knees grew watery. She gripped Gavin’s shoulders for support. He pulled her closer still. His arms wrapped firmly around her, drawing her into a muscled chest.

And still his lips worked their magic, now nipping her lower one, teasing her. He licked the corner of her mouth and trailed kisses along her jaw. Her head fell back. A shudder rushed up her spine.

This is heaven.

His kisses continued along her exposed throat. She began to throb everywhere. Her fingers kneaded his shoulder. She heard a noise that sounded like a satisfied growl come from him.

Then his lips were gone. A shiver passed through her as the gentle breeze blew. She opened her eyes, only to meet his gazing down at her. He brushed a kiss against her temple, another one on her cheek. The slow play of his mouth began again as he caressed her. The throbbing built within her, starting an ache that clamored for a satisfaction she didn’t know how to satisfy.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, to ask what was happening. Gavin’s hand, tangled in her curls, caught them and pulled slightly, forcing her head back. His eyes glowed, a heat in them that frightened and excited her at the same time.

Then his mouth was upon hers, gentle no longer. She clung to him. His tongue demanded to mate with hers, taking, taking. Again and again he took from her, even her very breath, till she no longer knew where she ended and he began. His arms pinned her against him. Her breasts ached. Her bones melted. A dizziness swept across her. She wanted this to go on. Forever.

A rooster crowed in the distance. It brought her to her senses. She broke their embrace.

You can purchase A Bit of Heaven on Earth for $2.99 at  

Amazon

#medievalmonday2015 Restoring Garnet’s Heart (Elinor's Stronghold Book 3) by @BerengariaBrown

Welcome to Week 10 of Medieval Monday

This week featuring Berengaria Brown's

Restoring Garnet’s Heart

(Elinor's Stronghold Book 3)

Tragically widowed, Garnet is loved by two men. If a noble lady can have two men, why can’t a mere sewing woman? Garnet decides she’ll marry them both! Then she adopts two orphaned, starving little girls.

Garnet, Byram, and Carlysle are sent to repair the demesne. Can they achieve this huge task before the harvest is gathered in? First a high stone wall needs to be built to protect them from attackers. The buildings must be cleaned and repaired, the crops sown, weeded, cared for, and hopefully reaped. Is it possible to complete such a huge undertaking before the next vicious winter arrives? Will the peasants help them? 

Meanwhile Lady Elinor gives birth to the heir of the stronghold, and Lord Rhys and Lady Rhyannon, with Alistair and Lord Devon, go to court to sort out her inheritance.

And what about Garnet’s threesome relationship? Will that be successful?

STORY EXCERPT from “Restoring Garnet’s Heart”:

Lady Elinor stared at the two children in front of her. One, a girl, looked to be about six years old and dragged a cooking pot with a few possessions inside it. Her arms and legs were stick-thin, her hair was falling out in clumps, and her belly was swollen.

The child had been eating bark and leaves to try to stem her hunger, and her belly was full of air, assumed Garnet, who was standing beside Lady Elinor among the other sewing women of the castle.

The younger child, which could be either a girl or boy, and was maybe three years old, clutched the older one’s tunic in one hand, and sucked hard on its other thumb. It, too, was painfully thin, though less bloated by starvation.

“You wish to become my slave?” Lady Elinor’s voice was even and mild, but Garnet knew she was shocked. Peasant men from the smallest of uncaring Lord Jeffrey’s hamlets had begged to become slaves of the castle in return for food during this terrible winter, but few females, and no one as young as this little child.

“Yes, Lady Elinor. I can scare birds from the crops when they’re planted, and clean for you. Ysabel will stay with me. I’ve always looked after her since Ma died, and she won’t touch the seedlings. She’s a good girl, and no trouble at all. And I will grow big, and learn to fight for you and Lord Rhys, and then I’ll kill the men who murdered our Pa and took all our hamlet’s food,” the child finished fiercely, almost in a shout.

Garnet felt her eyebrows rise and forced her face not to break into a grin. It was plain this tiny, starved child had the heart of a warrior indeed.

Lady Elinor rested her hand on her huge belly. It was almost time for the heir to the stronghold to be born.

“Well then, Nerida is already learning warrior skills, and if the heir to the stronghold is a girl, she will be a warrior, too. I see no reason why you can’t also be a warrior, if that is your desire. What is your name, and where are the other people from your hamlet?”

“I’m Ava, lady, and I promise to serve you forever. Most of the people left after the soldiers came raiding. Some have tried to help Ysabel and me, but I’d rather work for my food.”

Garnet watched Ava’s thin, little shoulders straighten as she spoke. At her age, Garnet would never have dared to approach the Lady of the Castle, and Garnet had never been a shy child. But this girl was truly a warrior born. She was that rare being who combined the ability to think of a solution to a problem with the courage to step outside any rules of society and do it, no matter what the consequences may turn out to be.

Without stopping to think, Garnet moved to stand where Lady Elinor could see her. “The two girls may share my room, lady, and I will supervise their activities.”

“It is decided then, Ava. You and Ysabel may join the stronghold. We will feed you, and you will work. You will obey Garnet in all things. Do you understand?”

“Yes, lady, thank you.”

Ava dropped to her knees and pressed her face to Lady Elinor’s feet. Ysabel copied her.

Garnet’s eyes flooded with tears. Peasants always died when there was trouble in the land, especially the very old and the very young. They weren’t strong enough to fight back or fast enough to run away. But this child deserved to live.

Garnet’s husband, Roldan, had been one of Lord Rhys’s soldiers, and was killed in the battle that took the lives of Lady Elinor’s father and brothers and caused Lord Rhys to lose his demesne to Lord Jeffrey. 

They had been married only six months, not long enough for her to worry about not getting pregnant, but now he was dead, the parents of these children were dead, and Ava was a daughter any woman would be proud to call her own.

BUY LINK: http://www.bookstrand.com/restoring-garnets-heart

Berengaria Brown

http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/

http://berengariabrown.com/

#medievalmonday2015 Shadows of the Past by Carmen Stefanescu @Carmen_Books

Welcome to Week Nine of Medieval Monday

This Week Welcome

Carmen Stefanescu

Shadows of the Past

        

Publisher: Wild Child Publishing 

Genre: paranormal/light romance/light historical/light horror.

                       Blurb

Anne's relationship with her boyfriend Neil has disintegrated. After a two-year separation, they pack for a week vacation in hopes of reconciling. But fate has other plans for them. 

The discovery of a bejeweled cross and ancient human bones opens a door to a new and frightening world--one where the ghost of a medieval nun named Genevieve will not let Anne rest. This new world threatens not only to ruin Anne and Neil's vacation but to end all hopes of reconciliation as Anne feels compelled to help free Genevieve's soul from its torment. 

Can Anne save her relationship and help Genevieve find her eternal rest?

A touching, compelling story of tragedy, loss and the power of endless love and good magic.

The twists and turns in this paranormal tale keep the reader guessing up to the end and weave themselves together into a quest to rekindle love. 

Excerpt

  

No sooner had Andrew swung off his horse and tied the reins of both horses to a tree than Genevieve, managing to break out of her petrified state, hurried from behind the gates.

A warm smile brightened his face upon seeing her.  His smile melted away.

Something about her expression must have warned him all wasn't well. His gaze, worried and questioning, lingered on her face.

"What's wrong, my darling? Have you changed your mind? Why are you here by the gate? I thought I’d find you in the old man's house? Someone could have seen you and alerted the Abbess," he said.

He pulled an ivory wood anemone from his saddlebag and gave it to Genevieve. "I picked this along the way. It looks like you: pretty and delicate.”

She heaved a sigh and accepted the flower. "Oh, Andrew, how sweet of you." She managed a smile. 

"Come, we should leave at once," she said and glanced nervously over her shoulder. "Something terrible happened after you left for town. I think the Abbess found out about us. Our meeting in Uncle Ryan's cabin is no longer a secret. We have been overheard. For all I know someone spies on us even as we speak. I think the Abbess, or one of her 'friends,' is hovering somewhere nearby and listening to every word."

Andrew pulled her into his arms and tightened her in his embrace. "Calm down, please. Tell me what’s wrong." 

"No, please, let's leave. There's danger all around us. I know what I'm saying."

“Then you can tell me what happened along the way." Andrew took hold of her hand as if trying to instill courage and confidence in her. He untied the reins of the horse he'd brought for her.  Placing a tender kiss on her forehead, he helped Genevieve up and then swung himself into the saddle. He turned his head as if to hide the worried frown across his face. "A scorned woman is worse than an unleashed hurricane," he said. Then he addressed Genevieve, "We'll follow the most direct route through the forest." 

Genevieve flinched. 

The forest. The very cursed forest. The main reason for the tragedy in her family.

He nodded, saying, "Don't worry. We’re together. Have faith my love." He led the way into the forest.

Genevieve wrapped the dark mantle covering her shoulders more tightly around her and swallowed her fears as they began the cautious ride through the silent forest, through the silent night, enveloped by their own silent guilt.

 … . . .                … . . .                … . . .                … . . .

Tears welled in Anne's eyes, blurring her vision. She couldn’t explain them, or the sudden sadness seeping into her heart. This should’ve been a moment of happiness or, at least, contentment. She was with Neil again, and the outcome of their trip together should, very likely, bring their reconciliation. Why then did she seem detached from where she stood? 

Anne shivered. Why the deep feeling of having seen this place, this forest before? And why the eerie sensation of being present here only in the body, while her mind was far away? 

Away from the forest. 

Away from Neil, the man who'd betrayed her trust and her love.

An onrush of sensations unfamiliar to her followed. Dizziness and a malevolent feeling of unreality suffocated her.

Anne edged cautiously closer to the rim of the bare cliff. Her foot tapped the edge. It seemed solid. She stared into the darkness of the abyss at her feet. It echoed the shadows in her heart.  An unusual curiosity took hold of her. Should she step ahead? What was down there? Other human bones? 

Another mystery? The presence of evil, creeping up and enveloping her, became almost palpable. The vines of fog folded around her, dragging her to the depth. Her throat turned dry, and she gasped for air.

Megan's face contorted, the voice no longer pleasant. A hoarse gurgle, spluttering distorted words. 

" Yes, come. . . I'm waiting. . . I've been waiting for you for such a long time!"

          Buy Links
           Wild Child Publishing

             Amazon.com
              Barnesandnoble.com

#medievalmonday2015 Highland Burn by @VictoriaZak2

Welcome to Week Eight of Medieval Monday

This Week Welcome

Victoria Zak

and 

Highland Burn 

(Guardians of Scotland Book 1)

Blurb: 
 
Will Love’s Flame Quench the Dragon’s Fire? …

The past never stays in the past, it rears its ugly head eventually. James the Black Douglas knows this all too well. With a past that has left him vengeful and his dragon blood thirsty, his reputation as a ruthless warrior haunts his enemies in their sleep. As his allegiance stands with Robert Bruce, the King of Scotland, he must now repay a debt to the king and agrees to marry his daughter, Abigale Bruce. The problem is he doesn’t want a wife. When flames start to burn out of control between him and the auburn-haired lass, he must decide to either kindle the flames of passion or shelter her from the truth and set her free.

It’s What Shines in the Dark That Brings Forth Your True Light…

Determined to keep his daughter safe and out of the hands of the English, Robert hides Abigale behind the safe walls of a nunnery. After eight long years of living her life in seclusion, Abigale is finally set free. But her new found freedom comes to an abrupt halt when she learns of her betrothal to the infamous Bogeyman – James the Black Douglas. She soon finds herself falling in love with the uncontainable and haunted man. Is her love enough to soften his hardened heart?

Excerpt:

The unsettled nature of Scotland had left Abigale hardened. She’d seen firsthand the aftermath of battles fought; mended wounds, prayed over dead bodies, and even buried the dead. The nunnery where she grew up would set up tents to aid those wounded in battle. Abigale would assist in surgery and her passion grew for healing the sick and mending wounds. Life was to be valued, not destroyed.

In a way she blamed Lady Scotland for her misfortunes. Her father’s growing need to fight for Scotland had caused her to stay hidden, conceal her true identity, and grow up without a family. Her whole family had been affected by the battles fought for Scotland and the greed of claiming the crown. Though it was true she had long forgiven the Lady; she could not forget.

The Highlander seemed far away in thought, because he took a while to answer. “Some would say I’m a Highlander.” He approached Abigale. “May I?” The beautiful stranger reached for a piece of hair that was stuck to her face and tucked it behind her ear. He brushed a callused finger down her cheek to her slender neck leaving a fiery path trailing behind.

He held her stare and captivated her to the point that she could not form a coherent thought. Her body was no longer hers to control, her heart dropped, and desire pooled in her core setting her body on fire. This Highlander was so close to her she could feel his breath on her skin, she could smell his masculine scent and soon she wanted to taste his lips.

Buy Links:

Amazon

Amazon UK

Amazon AU 

Amazon Canada

#medievalmonday2015 Marek (The Knights of Stonebridge Book 1) Bambi Lynn @hot_historicals

Welcome to Week Seven of Medieval Monday

This Week 

Bambi Lynn's

Marek (The Knights of Stonebridge Book 1)

BLURB: 


Boring accountant, Kitty Petty, struggles to get through each day one at a time since the brutal murder of her husband. She spends every free moment caring for her young daughter, until the night she wakes to find her bed on fire.

Kitty doesn’t know how she got to the year 1196, much less how to get back. But if she doesn’t, her daughter will be institutionalized. Having failed to save her child from the clutches of a madman. Kitty vows to protect her future. But going back to her time means risking her own life and separating her from the knight she has grown to love. 

Marek Stone wants to protect his wife from the people of Stonebridge. Katherine has been declared a demon after her miraculous rise from the funeral pyre, and the villagers want justice.



EXCERPT:

Marek jerked the laces free at the waist of his chausses, tugged them off and, naked, padded across to the tub. Stepping over the side, he sank into the steaming water. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, resting his head back against the rim.

The look of ecstasy on his face made Kitty want to rip off her own clothes and jump in with him. She realized she’d never known lust until that moment. She tried to deny it, but the pulse at her core could not be ignored, nor could the moisture that pooled between her thighs. Slowly she tiptoed over until she stood next to the tub, gazing down at him.

He did not open his eyes, but spoke so quietly he must have known she stood next to him. “If you have had a change of heart towards Bria, I am pleased. I would not deny her the affections of her mother. I have often told you not to toy with me, now I demand the same consideration of her. I would not have her disappointed in any way.”

She nodded vaguely, her gaze riveted to the water line just beneath his chest.

When she did not answer, he looked up at her. “Wife,” he snapped. Kitty jumped, having been caught gawking at his nudity, barely hidden beneath the water. “Continue to stare at me thus and you’ll find yourself possessed of me for the first time in years.”

Kitty could think of nothing more pleasant that being ‘possessed’ of this man.
He settled himself once again, but continued to look up at her. “I have not concerned myself with your whoring for some time. But I would like nothing more than for Bria to know the love of a happy family. You are a mistress of deceit. If you can make her believe she has that, I would be…grateful.” His expression softened.

Kitty fairly melted. He loved that child. All he wanted was for her to be happy. She knew in that moment that this man would never allow harm to come to his daughter, much less harm her himself. He wasn’t like Jake. She reached out, traced the tip of her finger along the scar that trailed into his wet hair.

The touch was like an electric shock. The downy hairs on the back of her neck prickled. A shiver racked her whole body.

He must have felt it, too. Marek grabbed her wrist and, before she could say anything to stop him, pulled her over the side and into his lap. Water sloshed onto the floor.

Her first thought, that he was ruining Bria’s favorite gown, evaporated as he pulled her against his chest, crushing his lips to hers.

Kitty knew she should resist. She couldn’t breathe. The frantic, almost desperate movement of his mouth on hers seared her. She kissed him back with all the pent up passion and loneliness she’d felt in recent months.

God! He was a good kisser. His lips were full and seemed to devour her. She opened her mouth wider, taking his tongue inside her. Her hands grasped his shoulders. Oh, but she could get used to this.

And her daughter would perish.

Available At: Amazon, B&N, Apple

 

Find Bambi online:
Hot Historicals ~ www.bambilynn.net
bambi@bambilynn.net
facebook.com/BambiLynn.HotHistoricals
twitter: @hot_historicals

#medievalmonday2015 Dragon Knight’s Medallion Mary Morgan @m_morganauthor

Welcome to Week Six of Medieval Monday

This Week 

Mary Morgan's

Dragon Knight's Medallion

 Blurb:

To right a wrong, two souls are brought together only to shatter when they are torn apart by the deeds of an evil druid.

Dragon Knight, Stephen MacKay’s powers are altered after the death of his sister. Now he is plagued with visions that threaten to destroy his soul. When Aileen Kerrigan falls through a time tunnel, he vows to keep her safe, despite the fact the beautiful but head-strong half-blooded fae could be the death of him.

When Aileen finds out her dad is a Fenian Warrior, she flees to a nearby ruin. Armed with the medallion her mother gave her, and a matching one belonging to a long dead knight, she is flung into the past and finds a handsome but surly warrior who is on a quest. Now it seems her future could be entwined with his, if she doesn’t kill him first.

Excerpt:

Full shock registered inside her brain as she realized where she’d seen this man. Her body started to quake, and she clutched her hands to her chest.

“No, th…this cannot be,” she choked out. “Tell me who you are. I demand to know your name!”

Are all the fae so dumb and beautiful, he thought. “Ye ken who I am.” Stephen’s head caught a glimpse of the fae, as she started to take a few hesitant steps backwards. What the bloody hell was wrong with her? She was standing too close to the edge. If she was not careful, she would slip on over.

Why did he care? She could just vanish, right? Stephen rubbed his face, the remnants of a headache still behind his eyes. Sweet Bridget! Now the fae was yelling at him.

She waved her hands, all the time shaking her lovely head. “You are not him!”

He had to put a stop to this, or she would fall. Perhaps, she was a daft fae. He certainly did not know their ways, nor did he want to find out. However, this creature was becoming more agitated, and for some unfathomable reason, he did not want her to come to any harm.

“Och, fae healer, stop your babbling,” he dismounted with a groan.

“No, no, no!” Pointing a finger at him, she continued to walk backwards. 

Stumbling, her foot twisted among some tree roots, causing her to lose her balance.

Stephen swore as he lunged for her, grasping her arm and crushing her against his chest. “Are ye truly daft?”

Buy Links:

Amazon Barnes & Noble The Wild Rose Press

By Ruth A. Casie

#medievalmonday2015 The Bruised Thistle Ashley York @Ashley1066York

Welcome to Week Five of Medieval Monday

This Week

The Bruised Thistle

by Ashley York

The Order of the Scottish Thistle Series – The Bruised Thistle

Blurb: 

Iseabail MacNaughton, the orphaned daughter of a Scottish laird, is forced to flee her home and seek assistance against her lecherous uncle who has usurped her family’s land. When she meets Seumas, a strong and valiant mercenary, she cannot help wondering if he could be the one to stand with her again her uncle. But with a price on her head and enemies on all sides, her trust is not something she can afford to give lightly…

Seumas MacDonell is a man wounded in body and soul, driven by guilt. When he rescues Iseabail from one of his own men, he cannot deny the attraction he feels for her, despite the wound that left him unable to act on it. In the hope of finding redemption for his sins, he agrees to help Iseabail…but will his feeling for her prove to be the ultimate obstacle to his salvation?

EXCERPT:

“Methinks ye wish to place a curse on me with that look of yers… What is yer name?”

Though she jumped at the sound of his voice, she could not help watching as he poured water from a pitcher to a bowl sitting on the table beside the fire. Mesmerized by the motion and the play of firelight over his expansive chest, she did not notice right away when he stopped his movements. She met his eyes. Her heart beat faster and that strange heat centered in her belly again.

He quirked a brow. “I asked ye a question and I expect an answer…or do ye not know how to act with yer betters?”

Her better? Though she seethed inside, Iseabail bit her tongue before she gave herself away. If he but knew how much land her clan called their own…

Nay, Iseabail. Remember the part you play here.

Lowering her eyes, she quietly answered him. “Forgive me, m’lord. I forget myself.” Unsure what else the charade called for, she curtseyed slightly.

“Yer name?” He still didn’t move. His brows were raised in expectation yet again.

“My name is Iseabail.”

He nodded, apparently appeased. “And my name is Seumas.”

His face settled into a slight smile and he continued with his washing. His muscles flexed as he rubbed across his chest and down his arms, scrubbing the soap into lather then rinsing it clean until his skin glistened. When he finished, he reached for the cloth beside him but turned his face to her.

She exhaled slowly.

“Come here, Iseabail.”

His tone was coaxing, as if speaking to a newly harnessed foal. She took the few steps toward him. When he reached for her face, she tensed and her mouth went dry. He was no better than her uncle, after all, and disappointment washed over her. She glanced down, steeling herself for the imminent assault, before facing him. His hand stopped just short of her face. Their eyes met and she could tell he was insulted by his tight lips and furrowed brow.

He wiped her cheek with a wet finger. “Ye’re filthy,” he said with disgust. “Make use of my water and be quick about it.” Seumas walked away, rubbing his hands dry.

Available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Apple

By Ruth A. Casie

#medievalmonday2015 The Heart of the Phoenix @BarbaraBettis

Welcome to Week Four of Medieval Monday

This Week

The Heart of the Phoenix

by Barbara Bettis

 

 Blurb:

Memories

Lady Evelynn’s childhood hero is home—bitter, hard, tempting as sin. And haunted by secrets. A now-grown Evie offers friendship, but Sir Stephen's cruel rejection crushes her, and she resolves to forget him. Yet when an unexpected war throws them together, she finds love isn’t so easy to dismiss. If only the king hadn’t betrothed her to another.

Can be cruel

Sir Stephen lives a double life while he seeks the treacherous outlaws who murdered his friends. Driven by revenge, he thinks his heart is closed to love. His childhood shadow, Lady Evie, unexpectedly challenges that belief. He rebuffs her, but he can’t forget her, although he knows she’s to wed the king’s favorite.

And deadly

When his drive for vengeance leads to Evie’s kidnapping, Stephen must choose between retribution and the love he’s denied too long. Surely King John will see reason.

Convict the murderers; convince the king. Simple. Until a startling revelation threatens everything. 


Excerpt:

At first, Evie thought it was the thud of her headache. Then the pounding came again, louder. She groaned and turned over. Opening her eyes told nothing; the blackness in the cabin was impenetrable.

“Marie?” Her voice rasped in a dry throat. Blasted tears.

No one answered. The girl must still be on deck. Evie might as well have left Marie behind, for all the assistance the maid provided. With a groan, she swung her feet over the side of the bunk and felt her way along the wall toward the sound of another insistent knock.

“A moment,” she called. “I’m coming.” Who had the nerve to wake her in what must be

the middle of the night? Hah. Need she even wonder? Her toe collided with something, and she yelped as she landed on her knees on the wood plank floor. Just what she needed. A broken foot.

The door burst open, bringing with it a dim light. “What’s wrong?” Stephen’s deep voice filled the room. “Where’s the damned lantern?

“If I knew, I would have lighted it.” Blasted man. Did he think she enjoyed stumbling around in the dark? He acted as if she did so just to plague him.

Holding a shielded ship’s lantern high, he stepped toward the desk. 

“Here it is. Where’s that lightskirt who’s supposed to be your companion?”

“Leave Marie alone. I wanted privacy and gave her permission go above.” Never mind that Evie had just complained about the same thing. He had no right to do so.

“What do you want?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

“A little late to ask that, isn’t it?” He bent to coax the cabin lantern to flame.

“Oh, for the love of heaven. Stop plaguing me. Why are you here?”

“I thought you’d like to know the identity of our fellow passenger.”

“At this hour? Could you not have waited until morning?” Sweet Mary, preserve her patience. He was the most maddening man alive.

Light flared in the cabin’s shuttered lantern, throwing a shadow across his face, reminding Evie of another reason he should not be here. Her body instantly throbbed to life.

She pressed her palms against her stomach and inhaled. Calm. She needed calm. He was not the most beautiful man she’d ever beheld. He did not possess the power to heat her blood to boiling.

He did not care that she thought of him night and day.

That much was true, for certain.

“I have news that will make the rest of your trip joyful.”

His words centered her whirling mind, and Evie eyed him warily. What news could possible make her happy right now?

She ventured a guess. “You are leaving? Your second in command, the delightful Sir Macsen, will accompany me the rest of the way home?”

“Much better.”

She could tell he was angry now by the way he glowered and roared in that whispery sort of way no one else could hear, but left her with no doubt of his displeasure.

“Your betrothed.” He bent and scooped her off the floor.

“What? What about him?”

“That’s the identity of the illustrious lord who crosses to England with us.”

“You’re drunk. And put me down. I’m perfectly capable of getting up on my own.”

“Be quiet. You have blood on your leg.”

“Of course I do. I tripped and fell trying to answer your pounding when you could as easily have opened—“ His words finally penetrated her throbbing head. “I’m bleeding?”

Oh, blast. The contents of her—empty—stomach churned. She attended the villagers’ hurts, bound the cuts and scrapes of servants and their children. The sight of their blood bothered her not a whit.

But her own? Black spots danced at the corners of her vision, becoming larger and larger until she heard Stephen’s voice.

“Evie, Evie. What the hell?”

His voice echoed so far away. If she didn’t know better, she’d vow he sounded alarmed. Perhaps she’d close her eyes for a moment.

As the ringing in her ears crescendoed , she recalled his words. Betrothed.

Her betrothed was on board?

Dear Lord, just let me die.

Buy links: 

Amazon

The Wild Rose Press