Bits 'n Bobs Author Blog
Genre Historical Romance
Tags Historical Romance, Scotland, Robert the Bruce, 1307 Scottish Wars of Independence, knights, chivalry
Release May 31, 2013
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?
This week's thread is a paranormal romance by Larynn Ford, Dreams Do Come True
Book 2 in the Dream Trilogy
The vicious slaughter of cattle brings Lynzi Lancaster and her fiancé Layne Brady, a Fae raised in the human world, to the aid of his human parents. A neighbor with a grudge has returned to the area to settle a score.
Lynzi is only mildly shocked to find the tall tales her granddaddy told so many years ago about black panthers roaming the woods near their home were not only true but also had a twist, those panthers were two natured . . . werepanthers
The renegade panther believes Lynzi is a witch and threatens her life when Fae magic is performed near by. Now, it’s up to Lynzi and Layne to bring down the big cats and keep her alive.
I drew the truck door as close to me as I could get it and waited for the perfect moment. I shoved it open with all the force I had to meet my attacker head on. With a loud thud, she bounced back, and fell hard on her rump.
Thinking that reality check would take some of the fight out of her, I stepped from behind the door. It was only hopeful thinking though since she scrambled to her feet and came at me a second time. She made contact this time by clinching both hands around my neck all the while chanting some strange words. Gasping for air, I grabbed hold of her wrists and broke the hold as I spotted Boone tearing out the back door toward us. She swung a fist, and I reached up with my forearm to block the blow.
A familiar hand latched onto my waist and tugged me out of the reach of the crazed woman. The loud smack I heard but did not see delivered caused her to fly backward and land on her backside again. I straightened myself, my hands clinched into tight fists. She had to believe I had delivered the blow. Layne’s identity could never be discovered.
Boone took his protective stance in front of me. “Mena, what are you doing here? Ms. Lynzi didn’t kill Del. He was executed by panther law for everything he did to me and Jesse and Mama.”
The crazy witch resembled a human crab scooting backward on her hands and feet, trying to stand, and regain her senses. I could almost see the steam coming from her ears she was so mad.
“You didn’t lift a finger to help poor Del and now you’ve thrown in with this witch. You will pay for what you did, Boone Weaver.” She raised her hand and started to speak in riddles again as if to cast another spell of some sort on Boone.
I moved around Boone with my shadow still covering my back. “This is your only warning, Mena. Leave this place and leave us in peace. Keep messing with me and my family and I will come after you.” I raised my arm with my fist still clinched to emphasize my point. Layne accentuated my declaration with a gust of wind powerful enough to knock her on her butt, yet again.
“I’ll get you. I don’t know what kind of witch you are but I’ll get you. And Boone, you only tasted the beginning. You’ll wish you were dead before I’m done with you. Careful what you dream, it might come true.” She scrambled to her feet and ran around the corner of the house and to the car she had left parked out on the side of the road.
“Lynzi. Are you hurt?” Layne was hovering again. “Ms. Lynzi, did she hurt you?” Boone, too. I blew out a breath. “Whew. You both worry too much.
I’m fine. Not a hair out of place.” I shook my ponytail. “Which is more than I can say for Mena.” A confident grin spread across my face as I raised my left fist and revealed my prize. Several dozen strands of frizzy, bleached blond hair had been captured in my scuffle with the witch. “Ooo, she’s in bad need of a touch up, too. Gray roots.” I made a face as I examined my reward and wondered if we now had everything we needed to do the job of eliminating Mena from our lives.
Layne’s hands clasped onto my waist, he lifted, and spun me around in mid air. After my feet were back on the ground, I propped my hands on my hips. “Layne Brady, what if someone saw that? People don’t just fly around their backyards on their own. At least not here.”
“Hey, you already got the reputation as a scary ol’ witch, so why not?” He chuckled as he took my hand and led me into the house.
“Sounds reasonable to me,” Boone chimed in.
“You two best be careful with those smart mouths. I’ll take my broomstick to the both of you.”
Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Dreams-Come-True-Larynn-Ford-ebook/dp/B00NULPUHO Twitter: @LarynnFord
Let's welcome Ruth A. Casie to this week's Medieval Monday with her novel, 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 travelled 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.
Available at Amazon (http://amzn.to/14jMXOy) Nook (http://bit.ly/19FnJwr)
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.
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