Bits 'n Bobs Author Blog
I'm so excited to have my friend, USA-Today best-selling author Madeline Martin on my blog today!
I'm not sure where I want to start, lol! I love the cover she's sharing today, I love her new series, and I absolutely adore the post she's prepared. Always thoughtful, Madeline has put together some fun info about this series that made me grin so much!
How else to tweak my interest than to include pets?
Let's let Madeline tell you more. And at the end, leave a comment on your pet or one you know (or knew) for a chance to win a kindle copy of Marin's Promise! Winner announced May 31!
Madeline: One of the things I love so much about following Cathy MacRae on Instagram and FB are all the adorable pictures she posts of her German Shepherd, Rezso.
I absolutely looooove pets, but due to severe time constraints and family pet allergies, we can’t have any. Well, aside from fish (but given their lack of snuggle-ability, I don’t feel like they really count). To cope with this, I’ve started writing pets into my books, like the adorable kitten who gets trained to be a spy cat in the Mercenary Maidens series, or the affable dog my earl rescues from the streets in the Earl of Benton.
My upcoming series, the Borderland Ladies, is no different. Well, maybe a little different in that it’s set in the medieval era. And what kind of pets did they have back then? These are the kind of questions that I love to research.
Generally speaking, medieval pets served a purpose. Cats were there for catching vermin, dogs were there for guarding the home and aiding with hunting. Dogs of nobles were cared for very well with their straw bedding changed out once a day and their water refreshed twice daily. They were typically fed bran bread and meat. Considering most peasants did not eat meat more than once a week (if they were lucky) or once a month, these dogs ate better than many humans!
There were several main types of dogs used for hunting in the medieval days. The mastiff, which was similar to the mastiffs of today: large and powerful. These dogs were used to take down large prey as well as guard homes and were even brought into battle as war dogs. The greyhound, which was prized for its swiftness and used to take down smaller prey. Spaniels which were great for charging into the brush and flushing out birds for hunters to take down. Then there was the alaunt, a fierce and determined dog who could take down a bear on its own. These powerful dogs were mercurial and were known for sometimes attacking and even killing their owners and handlers.
There were always exceptions to utilitarian pet ownership, of course. Some animals were kept for spectacle and prestige, like the menageries held by royals that had beasts such as lions, elephants, cheetahs, etc. These poor beasts were unfortunately not often cared for properly and were placed in cages that were far too small.
Fortunately, there were pets that people loved as well. Though in times where good food was sold at a premium, one had to possess excessive resources to have a pet simply for companionship. Oftentimes nuns and monks would keep song birds or had cats and dogs useless for hunting, but wonderful for snuggling. The church did not feel they could ban such ownership of pets, but did ask the nuns and monks to engage in pet ownership lightly as food consumed by the animals could otherwise be eaten by humans.
Leave it to the excessively wealthy to go extravagant with their pet ownership. There are accounts of people owning animals like monkeys, squirrels and even badgers. No thanks on the badger! I’ve even read it was not uncommon for these animals to wear adorable little collars with bells affixed to them. Probably to know where they scamper off to (badger, I’m looking at you!).
I’ve had a lot of fun creating and love the pets in my Borderland Ladies series. Initially, I’d planned to give each of the five sisters a pet, but then it got a little overwhelming and I had to scale down. LOL. In Marin’s Promise, you’ll meet an adorable little black cat named Bixby who totally stole my heart (and I hope he steals yours too).
Here’s an excerpt from Marin’s Promise where the hero, Bran (a reiver), first seizes control of Werrick Castle:
“The reiver made an agreeable humming sound and strode forward, toward the keep. A black cat trotted from the stables and wound his way around the man’s feet. Fitting. Bixby always did have an affinity for rats.
Marin did not wish the little feline to be kicked by a man so brutal, and quickly stepped forward to shoo Bixby away. Before she could reach him, the reiver lifted the animal into his arms and scratched at the place Bixby liked best, right between his ears.
Very well. She would leave the rat-lover to the rat.”
Marin’s Promise released yesterday, May 28th
A LADY WHO WILL DEFEND HER FAMILY AND HER CASTLE...
Lady Marin Barrington, eldest of the Earl of Werrick's five daughters, is a born protector. Not only has she taken on the role of mistress of the castle and caregiver to her sisters upon their mother's death, she also acts in her father's stead while he is serving the king abroad. Dedicated and resolute, failure is never an option for her. So, when a reiver forces his way into the castle, Marin won't surrender easily and takes it upon herself to kill the usurper. Except plans go awry when passions are awoken and matters get complicated.
A MAN WHO MUST SUCCEED NO MATTER THE COST...
Bran Douglas's sister is going to be hanged, unless he agrees to take Werrick Castle. Ever a pawn in a rich man's game, Bran has no choice but to comply. He quickly discovers getting into the castle is the easy part. Dealing with its mistress, however, will take every ounce of cunning and determination he can muster, especially when she turns his blood to fire.
A PROMISE THAT CHANGES IT ALL...
In a game where desperation and love dictate the lives of many, a simple promise can change the tide of favor and open the door to pleasure and danger alike.
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Cathy: Thanks so much for sharing with us today, Madeline! Please come back soon with the other books in the series!
Readers, don't forget to comment below for a chance to win a kindle copy of Marin's Promise!
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Madeline Martin is a USA TODAY Bestselling author of historical romance novels filled with twists and turns, adventure, steamy romance, empowered heroines and the men who are strong enough to love them.
She lives a glitter-filled life in Jacksonville, Florida with her two daughters (known collectively as the minions) and a man so wonderful he's been dubbed Mr. Awesome. She does a weekly podcast with several author friends called History, Books and Wine that releases every Thursday to chat about their favorite topics.
Find her here:
Author website: www.MadelineMartin.com
Author Facebook page:
Author Twitter: @MadelineMMartin
Author Amazon Profile page:
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The end of our spring blog hop is here! I hope you've enjoyed the fun, romantic, and sensual mix of excerpts from our authors. This season's theme was the first encounter of the hero and heroine. Was it love at first sight, or will there be drama ahead as they search for their Happy Ever After?
I'll post the full excerpt from The Highlander's Welsh Bride below. Do let me know what you think of Carys and Birk's first encounter.
Leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook copy of The Highlander's Welsh Bride. Winner announced next week.
The Highlander's Welsh Bride
Prince Llywelyn was dead, his soldiers fleeing before King Edward’s army. Carys, a distant cousin to the prince, herself a princess of Wales, had picked up arms alongside her husband more than a year ago. Now homeless, her husband buried beneath the good Welsh soil, she seeks shelter in the north, far from the reach of Longshanks’s men. Carys and Wales would never be the same again.
Birk MacLean has been ordered to take a bride and produce an heir. He grows weary of the lasses paraded before him, women of delicate nature and selfish motives. He desires a wife strong enough to help lead one of the most powerful clans in Western Scotland.
One like the Welsh woman sitting in his dungeon, arrested for poaching MacLean deer.
Can Birk convince Carys marriage to him is preferable to a hangman’s noose? And will the heard-headed Scot be worthy of a Princess of Wales?
From the towering Welsh mountains to the storm-swept Scottish coast comes a tale of betrayal and loss, deceit and passion. An epic tale of honor and the redeeming power of love.
* * *
The heavy wooden door slammed shut. Carys peered about the stone chamber. Aside from a pallet on the floor and a bucket in a far corner, the room was empty. Air blew crisp through an arrow-slit, much too narrow to consider an escape route. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to erase the feel of strong hands manacling them, then, unable to help herself, tested the door. It was securely latched.
“Ffwl!” she spat. Fool. Caught doing nothing more than providing food to hungry people.
She stormed about the cramped space, her boots thudding across the wooden floor. “MacLean deer! MacLean people!” she snarled, targeting the absent laird. “Twmffat!” Idiot.
Carys peered down into the frothy churn of water about the boulders at the foot of the castle, measured the width of the window with a hand splayed within its opening.
“’Tis a fair drop.”
Pivoting on her heel, Carys faced the man at the door, amazed he’d entered unnoticed. His bulk filled the entry and he ducked as he stepped inside. He fastened the latch behind him, the click echoing in the nearly empty room, reminding Carys she was trapped.
She glanced up from his hands, now hanging peaceably at his sides, to his face. Dark eyes peered at her from beneath half-lowered lids, thick brows pulled together above his slightly arched nose as he studied her. His nearly black hair hung loose to his shoulders, a bit of curl softening his wide forehead and hard, chiseled features. She was startled to realize her head would likely reach no higher than his shoulder, for she was tall for a woman, and had found it easy to pass for a man. This giant would have been a more familiar figure stepping from a Norse longboat, had his coloring been the pale blonde of that race. She surreptitiously checked his hands for signs of an axe or sword.
A hint of metal glinted from his wrists and at the top of his boot, doubtless hidden sheaths with daggers. Carys’s fingers itched with the need to somehow gain one of the weapons.
And do what? Doubtless the man was an accomplished warrior. His light step and sure balance told her as much. Relieving him of one weapon left him at least two more, and likely others she had yet to discover.
“A short sword at my back, two dirks in my belt, three throwing blades at wrist and boot, and a sgian dubh in the other boot,” he said, as if reading her thoughts.
Carys shrugged. “I do not like being a prisoner.”
“Killing me willnae get ye released. ’Twould be another feat to fight yer way down the stairs and out of the tower. Plenty of men would be anxious to stop ye before ye traveled far.”
“I wish to be released.” Every muscle thrummed with the urge to flee. For more than two years, she’d remained a step ahead of an English prison, aware a princess of Cymru would not simply be discarded as unimportant. She’d spent every waking moment—and many that should have been spent in much-needed rest—avoiding capture. Being a woman in the hands of an enemy held its own special peril. Fear roiled like an angry snake in her belly, sending the acrid taste of bile to her mouth.
The big man crossed his arms over his broad chest, bulging forearms corded with heavy muscle and overlaid with dark, crisp hairs. Carys was impressed, despite herself. With a mental shake of annoyance, she discarded the urge to touch him.
“Ye have been brought here on a serious charge,” the man said with a frown, his voice rumbling deep and ominous.
Carys matched his stance, not bothering to hide her disgust. “Feeding the hungry should not be a crime.”
“’Tis the fact ye poached on land that doesnae belong to ye.” He tilted his head. “Ye are a stranger to our shores. Why did ye not present yerself to the laird’s man when ye arrived?”
A myriad of emotions flushed through Carys, diluting her anger. Loss. Homesickness. Grief. Loneliness. She quickly tamped them down, shoving the sentiments into the deep space inside where she hid them away. She set her jaw stubbornly. What kind of honor did the MacLean laird have if he punished those who fed his people? He sounded no better than Edward and the cursed English.
“I did not see the need. I asked nothing from the clan—neither food nor lodging. Or protection.”
The man gave a short nod. “Tell me how ye came here. There was rumor of a shipwreck, yet no survivors were found.”
Carys’s eyes narrowed. “You must not have searched very hard,” she scoffed, though she knew she’d covered her tracks well. Once away from the foundered Seabhag, she’d not returned, nor allowed Tully to do so. Precisely because of the fear someone would stumble upon the wreckage. She had not wanted to risk anyone discovering a well-worn path to the cave they called home.
The man shrugged. “’Tis possible, yet the captain was known to us and an effort was made to discover what happened to him and his lad.” His gaze pierced her. “Do ye know if any others live?”
“The men were all lost,” she replied curtly, not placing thirteen-year-old Tully in the same category. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms against the threatened return of grief.
Her captor studied her at length. “How is it a woman came to be a hand on the ship? Did they not object? Sailors are a superstitious lot. A woman is said to bring naught but doom to a ship.”
“They welcomed me after I foiled an attempt to rob the ship whilst at harbor one night,” she answered with a tilt to her chin.
“Ye earned their goodwill?”
“Is it difficult for you to imagine I could be an asset?” Temper flared, warming her skin as it crept from her chest up her neck.
“Women have their place,” the man agreed.
“Mayhap ye are an uncommon woman. Ye gave Iain’s men a bit of trouble. Have ye skill with more than a knife and bow?”
Exasperated with the inquisition, Carys flung her arms wide. “I have no more answers for you. Tell me my penalty for slaying your laird’s deer—which I am certain you have gathered for yourselves—and let us be done. I will waste no more time on your land.”
He arched a brow, though in arrogance or anger she could not tell.
“The penalty for poaching the laird’s stag is death.”
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'Tis the next to last week for our Medieval Monday Excerpts Blog Hop. I hope you've enjoyed the tour and have found excerpts that pique your interest.
Today, Mary Morgan joins me with an excerpt from her book, A Highland Moon enchantment.
You'll find my excerpt on her blog here: https://www.marymorganauthor.com/blog
(You first met this warrior in Dragon Knight’s Axe, Order of the Dragon Knights, Book 3)
Irish warrior, Desmond O’Quinlan has never surrendered his heart to any woman. He has no
wish to have his soul tortured by love. Yet, the moment he locks gazes with Ailsa, his fate is
destined for an adventure he never fathomed. He may have battled alongside a Dragon Knight,
but his greatest challenge will come from within his own heart.
Ailsa MacDuff, a warrior among her clan, has no desire to have a man chain her to a life of
obedience. However, that is before she meets Desmond. The temptation to allow this warrior
inside her heart is a risk she dares to take, but one that could lead to a future of emptiness and
When betrayal looms from within, the battleground of love is no match for these two warriors.
Can the power of a Highland full moon be strong enough to unite or destroy them?
“Father,” she sobbed, slumping down beside him and placing a hand near his nose. “Thank the
Gods and Goddesses.” She looked up at Desmond. “He lives, though his breathing is shallow.”
He watched as she inspected the wound on his head and arm, noticing the odd position of the
limb. “I fear ’tis broken.”
“Aye,” she agreed. “We must straighten the arm.”
He crouched down beside her. “I can help ye. ’Tis best we do it while he is not awake.”
Standing, she wiped a hand across her brow. “I will need my pouch of herbs, salves, and linens.
Tam can assist me.”
Desmond stood and glanced at Alastair. “Have ye found any alive?”
Alastair motioned behind him. “Only one. He took a blow to the head, but lives. Tam is tending
to his injuries.”
Ailsa brushed past Desmond. “Did he say who it was?”
“I believe he mentioned the name of Muir.”
“Thank ye, Mother Danu,” she muttered, running off in the direction Alastair gestured.
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Follow along next week for the exciting conclusion on Mary Morgan's blog https://www.marymorganauthor.com/blog
and leave a comment for a chance to win a signed print copy of A Highland Moon
And don't forget to return here next week for the rest of the excerpt from The Highlander's Welsh Bride!
Buy Links for A Highland Moon Enchantment:
Apple iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-highland-moon-
week # 11
Join me in welcoming award-winning author Ashley York to the blog today. She's sharing an excerpt from the first book in her Warrior Kings series, Curse of the Healer.
You can find my excerpt from The Highlander's Welsh Bride on her blog here: https://www.ashleyyorkauthor.com
Curse of the Healer
After the death of Brian Boru in 1014, a legend arose of a healer so great she could
raise a man from the dead, with a power so strong it could make any warrior the next
high king of Éire...and to steal it away from her, he need only possess her.
Fated to be a healer…
Aednat has spent her entire life training to be the great healer, knowing she must
remain alone. When she meets Diarmuid, the intense attraction she feels toward him
shakes her resolve to believe in such a legend. If she gives in to the passion he ignites in
her, can she settle for being less?
Destined to be his…
Diarmuid of Clonascra is renowned for his bravery in battle. Only one thing daunts him:
the prospect of taking a wife. The safest course would be to keep his distance from
Aednat, the bold, headstrong healer who's far too tempting for his peace of mind. But
his overking orders him to protect her from a group of craven warriors intent on
kidnapping her to steal her power.
What starts as duty for Diarmuid quickly transforms into something more. Aednat's
power might be at risk, but so is his closed-off heart.
“Mmm, my fiery one, is yer need as great?”
She heard the guttural sound as if from someone else. A gnawing alarm grew somewhere in
the back of her brain. She pulled away, immediately missing the heated contact, and resisted the
nearly overwhelming urge to return.
She couldn’t speak, and he remained where he was, watching her, ready to resume as soon
as she returned. A mere hair’s breadth away. She need only move in closer, and she would again
know his touch. He could ease the tension now centered much lower, she was certain of that.
Taking a shaky breath, she struggled to remember why she had pulled away from his tempting
His intense gaze never wavered from her. She imagined what he must see. Surely he must
think her a peasant with her blackened skirt, her hair tumbling about her unkempt. He was
being… too familiar. Too enticingly familiar, and she relished it.
“I’m no peasant.” Her words were again breathy.
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Follow along next week when Ashley visits Barbara Bettis blog with her next snippet: http://barbarabettis.blogspot.co.uk
BUY LINK: https://www.ashleyyorkauthor.com/curse-of-the-healer
Today I have guest author Kate Hill on the blog, sharing an excerpt from her historical romantic suspense, Captain's Mercy.
Mercy Brown’s life changes when she accepts a position as companion to the disabled sister of wealthy shipyard owner Jonah Barnes. She is instantly attracted to the rugged former sea captain, even if his brusque manner offends her. Mercy soon finds herself entangled in the quirky family’s secrets.
From the first, Mercy is troubled by prowlers, disturbances from the attic, and unearthly howls on the property. After meeting several unusual household members, including a groundskeeper who works by night and the mischievous Maxwell Barnes, Mercy realizes she should flee while she can.
Pages from Mercy’s first novel go missing and Jonah’s domineering personality causes tension in the house. Only Mercy’s fondness for her young companion, Faith Barnes, as well as her fascination with Jonah prevent her from leaving, but will her desire for him endanger her life?
* * *
“Mr. Barnes?” she called again.
She glanced over her shoulder, back toward the stairs. When she turned around, she cried out, startled to find herself facing Jonah who now stood outside the attic door, holding a lamp.
“Miss Brown, what are you doing up here?” he demanded, wearing his usual scowl.
“I heard noise from up here. A crash. I thought perhaps lightning had struck the house and someone might be hurt.” She couldn’t keep the tremors from her voice. “I’m also worried about your siblings. You don’t suppose they’re caught in the storm?”
Jonah’s brow furrowed and he stepped closer to her. He held up the lamp and studied her face.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” he said in a gentler tone. “Max is quite capable and I doubt they’d venture out until after this passes. Are you all right, Miss Brown?”
Another clap of thunder made her jump.
“You don’t look fine,” he said. “Are you afraid of the storm?”
She chuckled nervously. “Silly isn’t it? A grown person afraid of a thunderstorm.”
“Why don’t we wait it out in the library?”
“There’s no need for you to keep me company.”
Again she jumped at the thunder and lightning.
“Keeping you company is far more pleasant than the paperwork I’ve been looking over.” He offered her his arm in a gallant gesture that took her aback. She rested her hand on it lightly. Goodness, she shouldn’t enjoy how solid and warm he felt, yet she was unable to ignore it. His arms were rock hard from years at sea and working in the shipyard.
On their way downstairs, she asked, “What were you doing in the attic? I thought I heard howling up there a short time ago and then a crash.”
“The wind, I’m sure. No doubt the crash you heard was Michaels. He tripped over an old trunk. He’s up there now, making repairs on a window that was blown open by the storm. He’s also trying to get rid of more unwanted guests of the flying rodent variety, so I remind you to stay away from the attic.”
“Why do you suppose the pests keep coming back?”
“I’m not sure. My expertise is the sea. Ask me about whales and sharks and I could probably answer. Bats are another story.”
“Do you still go to sea?” she asked, eager to keep her mind off the storm.
“Not as much as I used to.”
“Do you miss it?”
“At times. I miss the straightforwardness of being at sea. The simplicity. Aboard ship, a man is valued more for what he knows than for his bloodlines.”
“You don’t have much use for polite society, do you?”
“As long as rich men keep buying my ships, I like it well enough.”
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Always a fan of romance and the paranormal, Kate Hill started writing over twenty years ago for pleasure. Her first story, a short erotic vampire tale, was accepted for publication in 1996. Since then she has sold over one hundred short stories, novellas and novels.
When she's not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, spending time with her family and pets, and running the Compelling Beasts Blog, dedicated to antagonists, antiheroes, and paranormal creatures. She also writes under the name Saloni Quinby. Find her online at https://www.kate-hill.com and https://www.twitter.com/katehillromance.
Barbara Bettis joins me this week with an excerpt from her book, The Lady of the Forest. Barbara loves creating stories of other times and places, of heroines 'to die for', and heroes to live for. And of course, happy endings.
You can find this week's excerpt from The Highlander's Welsh Bride on her blog here: http://barbarabettis.blogspot.co.uk
The Lady of the Forest
He must pursue his enemy; she must protect her people. Can their love survive the duties that drive them apart?
When her elderly husband dies, Lady Katherine fakes her own death and disappears into the forest with others escaping the brutish new lord. Determined to protect her people, she knocks the wrong man senseless. But Lord Henry isn’t an enemy, he’s the brother of her childhood friend.
Although his tender confidence tempts her, she’s bound by duty.
Henry of Chauvere has found the one lady he wants for his own, never mind she’s tied him hand and foot. When he learns the king has ordered her to wed Stonehill’s ruthless new master, he insists Kate seek haven with his sister. But she won’t desert her friends. Henry vows to solve her problem, provided he catches a traitor before the threat from Kate's past catches her.
When a daring rescue compels Henry and Kate to join forces, their attraction grows into love. If only duty didn’t drive them apart.
“Quickly.” Kate motioned to the pallet. “Tie him.”
The two dragged off the heavy metal link armor and managed to bind his hands before he
shook his head and blinked his eyes.
“Easy there,” Oscar warned, “don’t want to have to hit ye again.”
The knight attempted to kick out. Oscar caught him under the chin with a smart blow,
then grumbled. “Told ye, didn’t I?”
He grabbed the prisoner beneath the arms while Oscar looped a rope around the ankles.
Before Kate could gather her thoughts, the two deposited him on the pallet where he lay
motionless, eyes closed.
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Come visit Barbara next week for the next installment: https://www.rueallyn.com/blog/
And leave a comment for a book drawing at the end of the tour.
Join me in welcoming Rue Allyn to the Medieval Monday Excerpt Hop today!
You'll find my excerpt on her blog here:
Rue's excerpt is from her book, The Herald's Heart.
The Herald’s Heart
Royal herald, Sir Talon Quereste could never love an overly adventurous, impulsive,
argumentative woman of dubious background who threatens everything he values. Lady
Larkin Roshan can only despise a man who would deny her identity and steal her
heritage. So why has fate thrown them together to solve the mysteries of the heart?
A delicate nose flared in a perfect oval framed with fiery red tresses. Long, dark lashes
fluttered over bright, exotically tilted blue eyes. A berry-red mouth formed an O. Ivory satin skin
pinked over high cheekbones as he watched. Every feature vanished the instant the fog closed
between him and the vision. Talon choked on the nauseating aroma of death and lavender mixed
with the sea-scented fog.
Buy Link: Amazon https://www.amzn.com/dp/B01LOIJSCC
Please welcome Judith Sterling who has a passion for history and the paranormal. Her favorite themes include true love, healing, destiny, redemption, and finding the healing magic that exists all around us.
You can find my excerpt from The Highlander's Welsh Bride on her blog: https://judithmarshallauthor.com/blog/
Today she shares an excerpt from her book, Shadows of the Swan
Shadows of the Swan
Lady Constance de Bret was determined to be a nun, until shadows from the past eclipsed her present. Marriage is the safest option, but she insists on a spiritual union, in which physical intimacy is forbidden. Not so easy with a bridegroom who wields unparalleled charm! But a long-buried secret could taint his affection and cloak her in shadow forever.
Back from the Crusades, Sir Robert le Donjon craves a home of his own and children to inherit it. From the moment he meets Constance, he feels a mysterious bond between them. When she’s threatened, he vows to protect her and agrees to the spiritual marriage, with the hope of one day persuading her to enjoy a “real” one. She captivates him but opens old wounds and challenges everything he thought he believed.
Two souls in need of healing. Two hearts destined to beat as one.
“I cannot thank you enough for sending Archdeacon Dominy on his way.” Her obvious relief threaded through her soft voice.
He gave her a single, slow nod. “Why did you hide from him?”
She averted her eyes and fiddled with her veil. “Out of necessity.”
“Necessity? But what—”
“My reasons are my own.” Her gaze claimed his.
“Very well. I didn’t mean to pry.”
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Leave a comment for a chance to win a signed print copy of Shadow of the Swan, and follow along next week on Barbara Bettis’s blog: https://barbarabettis.blogspot.com
Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shadow-of-the-swan-judith-sterling/1127751024?ean=2940158925597
I'm happy to host Lane McFarland on my blog today with her 7th excerpt from
To Support A King.
You'll find my excerpt for this week on her blog here:
To Support A King
Plagued by atrocities he committed against innocent victims while pursuing his father’s killers,
Laird Mangus MacAndrew pledged to defend and provide for his clan. But his leadership is
tested when two of his ships are attacked and his crews massacred. Desperate to fulfill his
obligation to protect the clan, Mangus agrees to help reinstate The Turnberry Bond. His
mission—garner support for the Bruce and avenge the deaths of his men.
The MacAndrew clan provides Catriona Butler something her Irish home could not, a safe
haven. But when she receives a missive her brother is imprisoned and will be executed unless
acceptable éraic can be obtained, she must return to her homeland. Mangus agrees to take
Catriona to Ireland and vows she will not become a distraction, but he longs to be near her.
Catriona witnesses Mangus’s fierce anger and grows distrustful. After a life of suffering her
father’s vicious temper, she is skeptical of anyone with a penchant for violence. She attempts to
keep her distance, but her traitorous heart pulls her in Mangus’s direction.
With the fate of the kingdom on his shoulders, will Mangus reunite the men of The Turnberry
Bond? Can he pursue vengeance against his enemies without taking more innocent lives? And
can Catriona free her brother and grow to trust Mangus, staying true to her heart?
She wobbled back. Her legs scraped against the boulder as she extracted the small dagger.
“As ye can see, I keep it nearby in case I need it.”
In a flash, he grabbed her wrist and with a twist, effortlessly seized her weapon. “Ye’re more
likely to hurt yerself with it, or at the verrae least, give yer aggressor a knife.”
Follow along next week on Barbara Bettis blog at http://barbarabettis.blogspot.com/, and
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