The Devil Take You is one of my absolute favourites out of the stories that I have penned. I not only enjoyed doing the research for the history that went into the story but I also surprised myself by creating an anti-hero, which is kind of rare in historical romance.
I have also loved hearing from readers who enjoyed and reviewed this book and was tickled to find that I was not the only one who fell in love with Gard Marschand. I guess we all really do love a bad boy.
And another awesome little bonus; for a time The Devil Take You was an ARe Bestseller in the Romance>Scottish/Highlander eBooks category.
I also hope you enjoy You Found Me, which was my first book. The one that started my writing journey. It will always be special to me.
I hope you take advantage of this incredible deal and more so I hope you fall in love with these characters the way I did.
Thank you, Lea!
The Devil Take You
Scotland - 1307 - During the Scottish Wars of Independence
Gard Marschand will stop at nothing in his pursuit to regain what is lost. Concealing his true identity, he will associate with his enemies, kill his own countrymen, even sell his soul to the devil if all else fails. He will lie, cheat, steal, rape and siege his way across two countries gaining power and reputation in his malevolent wake. His determination all consuming, until King Edward commands Gard to lay siege on Ross-shire holding, where Braelynn Galbraith obliterates his single-minded purpose.
Braelynn Galbraith wants peace for her beloved Scotland, marriage to her childhood sweetheart, Callum, and a house full of children. In that order. But evil incarnate in the form of Gard Marschand, turns her life inside out and destroys all hope of a decent marriage.
Can Gard abandon his deep-seated need of revenge for a love that might just save his soul, or will he succumb to the demons that hound him and surrender to the devil within?
You Found Me
Injured, lost and alone, what more could a girl ask for than to be rescued by a roguish Scottish Laird and a proper English Duke?
Marcus Sunderland, reared in England, groomed from birth to be the Duke of Carlton, is everything a proper English gentleman should be. Unwaveringly loyal to his liege and childhood playmate Queen Elnor, devoted to his people and his country.
Laird Niall Lummisden of Clan Logan in Lomond, Scotland, is everything a roguish Scottish Laird should be. Dedicated to his clan. Friendly, easygoing, born with confident swagger, he is the complete antithesis to his English half-brother Marcus.
As the brothers travel to a royal engagement they discover a woman left for dead in the road, beaten beyond recognition. It is decreed by his Queen that Marcus must take the stranger back to his estate to recover from her injuries. The unidentified woman not only survives the vicious attack but, as she begins to heal and communicate, struggling to recall her life before they found her, both men are intrigued and attracted to her.
The Duke and the Laird have survived a lifetime of cultural and political differences, but can the brothers survive her?
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Below are a couple of interviews that I did with excerpts, if you'd like to read some samples.
Penny Lockwood Ehrenkranz
Excerpt from You Found Me
Marcus was in the training field with his men when Niall and a score of his men rode into the bailey.
Niall dismounted, and the brothers clasped arms and slapped each other’s shoulders in greeting.
“Still doona want ta put yer puny English dandies up against my braw warriors?” Niall stood grinning cockily, his fists on his hips, feet planted wide.
“Your warriors,” Marcus coughed on the word, “are travel weary. ’Twould be a short and useless training session. Not enough to work up a sweat.”
Niall threw back his dark head and roared with laughter. The brothers walked together toward the keep.
“How be the lass?” Niall asked.
Marcus looked away to answer; his brother was far too perceptive by half. “She is well.”
“No. ’Tis frustrating how little we have found.”
The brothers walked across the bailey, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise. As they shouted there was a lull in the commotion, just as the pair rounded the corner of the keep toward the garden where Marcus expected to find the subject of their conversation. She must have heard their voices, for she straightened from a crouching position and turned toward them. Both men stopped. Niall, who had been looking at his brother, followed Marcus’ gaze. She said something as she turned and brushed the hood of the cloak off her head, uncovering her long dark hair. Marcus tore his gaze from the girl to see his brother’s reaction. She was completely different looking from the last time Niall had seen her. Marcus wondered if Niall would have the same reaction to her as he had.
What he was not prepared for was her reaction to Niall. At the sight of him, she yelled his name and bolted forward to launch herself into his arms. Niall’s face lit with an absolute joy, and he opened his arms to accept her assault as she vaulted into his welcoming embrace.
“Oh, Niall, I have missed you so much,” her voice was muffled in his hair.
“An’ I you, Sweet,” Niall replied huskily, still turning his burden in circles.
Marcus felt punched in the gut.
“Let me look at you, Sweet,” Niall coaxed, trying to ease her death grip from around his neck.
“An’ I you,” she demanded.
She slowly slid down Niall’s body and placed her feet back onto the ground. Marcus’s gut clenched again.
Niall moved to encircle her heart-shaped face. His large fingertips almost reverently skimmed across the delicate flesh of the face Niall had never seen. When he left it had been ravaged and swollen. She still possessed a few marks that might never completely heal, but they did not detract from her beauty. Niall’s mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. Marcus turned his attention to the girl. His breath caught sharply. Her eyes were wide and bright with wonder and unshed tears. She lovingly traced the planes and scars of Niall’s face. Suddenly, Marcus felt as if he were intruding on an intimate, private reunion. But he could not pry his gaze away.
Tears breached her lashes and cascaded down her cheeks. “Oh, Niall,” she breathed. “You are as beautiful as I dreamed you.”
“Ah, lass, you…you are beautiful. I kent ya would be. Please doona cry,” he said as his thumbs pushed the wetness from her cheeks. He tried to make a joke to stop her tears. “Is it this hideous scar o’ mine tha’s makin’ ya cry?” He smiled wickedly and raised a dark brow at her.
Her head tilted in questioning confusion and her face lost some of its shine. “What scar?”
“Doona tell me ya canna see it?” He said incredulously and angled his cheek so she could not miss it.
Her fingers traced the pale jagged line on his brother’s face well camouflaged with dark stubble. “Well, I do now,” she whispered. “Do you see my scars as you look at me, Niall?”
“Yes, lass, I do,” he admitted, clear regret in his voice.
“Do they make you feel differently about me? Is that all you see?”
She interrupted him before he could finish. “I am looking at you,” the aching tenderness returned to her face, “and I see the man who matches the voice that willed me to live, the one who came to me in the darkness and made me feel safe. The soothing tone that sang to me and told me stories, read me poetry. Made me laugh when it hurt to laugh and I felt like I would never have a reason to laugh again.” Her tears flowed again. “That deep beautiful voice now has a face to match. I see your scar now, as you see mine. But they mean nothing.” She swiped at the moisture that gathered on Niall’s cheeks. “It does not change what we feel in here.” She finished placing her little hand over Niall’s heart. Niall’s much larger hand enveloped hers.
Marcus turned and strode away, not wanting to hear Niall’s response. He could watch no more. A burning coldness stretched over both shoulders, down his chest, and into his stomach. He went straight to his chamber and poured a brandy. Taking a big swallow, he gazed out the window, raked his hand through his hair, and closed his eyes. The only image he could see was the couple touching each other lovingly...