Medieval Monday

                                final week

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.

                                                                                            * * *
Excerpt:


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.
Carys snarled.
“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.”

                                                                                   * * *

BUY LINK:
Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B07KNYTMPK

                                   


                               Welcome back to
                               Medieval Monday!

 This season our authors have put together some exciting excerpts from their hero and heroine's first encounter. Did they start off on a happy note? Or will they have to overcome a disastrous first impression?

 Follow us for the next 12 weeks and find out! Leave a comment each week to enter to win an ebook copy of The Highlander's Welsh Bride. See each author's blog for details.



           The Highlander’s Welsh Bride

It was over. 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.
 
It was time. 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.
                                                                                         * * *

I'll start this round of Medieval Monday off with the first part of my excerpt from The Highlander's Welsh Bride.

Caught poaching deer on MacLean land, our heroine isn't very happy.

Excerpt #1:

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.
                                                                                        * * *
 
Part #2 of this excerpt can be found next week on Jenna Jaxon’s blog: http://jennajaxon.wordpress.com
 
BUY LINK:
Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B07KNYTMPK
 

We've reached the end of this round of blog hop excerpts. Here is the final part of the scene from 'Wedding night jitters' from The Highlander's Crusader Bride.

​Thanks for following along!

I'll post the entire selection next week in case you missed any :-)

The ebook winner will be posted next week as well.

                                    Excerpt:

She glanced about the room, her attention lighting on a small leather box on a nearby table. Laughter lit her eyes and curled her lips as she lifted her gaze to his.
“Someone brought this here, though I gave it to Bram earlier. Should I teach ye the game of Fierges?”
Caelen gently rested the back of his hand on the soft curve of her cheek. “Mayhap there is a better game I could teach ye?”
                                        * * *
 
Blurb:
Born in the Holy Land only a few years after the Third Crusade, half-Armenian, half-Scot Arbela MacLean is a true daughter of the desert, beautiful and untamed. Trained to be a warrior to avoid her gentle mother’s fate, Arbela has honed her skills with Turkish bow and arrow, sword and throwing darts—and dreads the day her father choses a man for her to marry.

After more than thirty years in the Holy Land, Donal MacLean, Baron of Batroun, is recalled to Scotland, the last son available to take up leadership of clan MacLean. He brings with him knights, treasure, trade—and a daughter of marriageable age.

Caelen MacKern, known as the Bull of the Highlands, is cynical about women. His first marriage formed an alliance, and he did not grieve when his spoiled, immature bride passed away. He has agreed to marry again—against his better judgement—for the men, means and coin to recover from a devastating pestilence that all but wiped out his clan.

Though more than a little resentful at finding himself forced to remarry, Caelen’s proposal to Donal MacLean’s headstrong daughter nevertheless piques her interest. Each will receive what they want most from life—the ability to live as they please without interference from a meddling spouse. But their marriage of indifference will soon change to one of passion that neither Arbela nor Caelen could have predicted.
 
Buy Link: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B0762TL89Z

                           **THIS CONTEST IS CLOSED**
                         Thanks to all who participated!
         The winner is: Bev Shriver Marks! Congratulations!
                                         * * *                
It's book release week for the Highlander's Norse Bride, and DD and I would like for you to help us celebrate!

Above is a photo of the awesome items in our grand prize pack:
A signed print copy of The Highlander's Outlaw Bride (a RONE award winner), a set of floral sticky notes, an engraved whisky class "Scotland with Grace", a dragonfly pot hugger, a purple tartan coin purse, and a sparkly bird bookmark.

Oops! Did we forget one?  *grin*  Of course, we did.

To enter for a chance to win, click here to follow Cathy MacRae on BookBub: ​https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cathy-macrae

Then, comment below 'Done', and the name/description of the missing prize.

Contest will be open March 18-24 (next Saturday), with the winner announced March 26 (Monday). We'll be contacting the winner through email, so if you don't leave your email with us (which we NEVER share), be sure to check back on March 26 to see the winner announcement and learn how to collect your prize. If the winner does not make contact with us within 48 hours, another winner will be chosen at random, and the previous winner will no longer be valid.

Winner will be chosen randomly. You can enter every day, but please just once per day. :-)

There will be other 'flash' giveaways this week, so follow Cathy MacRae on facebook and/or Twitter (@CMacRaeAuthor) for the exciting announcements!

Today marks the end of this segment of the Medieval Monday blog hop featuring our hero and heroine's First Encounter.

Here is my final snippet from The Highlander's Viking Bride:

After tonight’s encounter, she vowed to avoid her sire more than ever.
Unsettled by her reaction to the new MacGerry laird, it was best to stay away until they concluded their business. She wasn’t sure she could stomach watching whatever duplicity her father planned, and she didn’t want their visitors to think she played any part in the treachery.
                                             * * *
Don't forget your opportunity to win an ebook from each of our Medieval Monday authors ends with this post! Give it one more shot and comment below to enter!
                                              * * *
In case you missed any of the previous snippets, here is the excerpt in its entirety: 

The Sinclair’s voice boomed from the high table.
“Allow me to express my sympathies on the loss of yer father. I dinnae know him, but all said he was a good man. This feud has been costly for both clans. I welcome the offer to end hostilities between our people. No one here can remember why we are at odds.”
“’Tis the same for us,” Calder replied.
“Then let us toast to new beginnings,” Sinclair offered as he raised his
quaich high. Around the tables, the others followed their laird’s example. So far, their welcome was more than Calder could have hoped for. A prickling sensation down his spine cautioned him something was afoot.

Katja reluctantly heeded her father’s summons to the great hall. She much preferred taking meals in her chamber as constant criticism and scorn from her father made for poor company. Her only regret was not spending the time with her brothers. She remembered the days before her amma died when mealtimes were pleasant, even enjoyable. She did not remember the days when her ma was alive.

Everyone in the keep knew guests had arrived—rumored to be the hated MacGerrys. Her father would likely use the opportunity to dangle her as bait again for some sort of alliance, her hand in marriage as part of the bargain. She grimaced. The MacGerry laird was as old as her sire—as were all the men her da had presented as prospective husbands.
“I willnae marry a man thrice my age. Why does he keep bringing such old relics about, Freki? Has the man not made the acquaintance of anyone younger than two score?”
Her companion did not answer.

Katja hurried to the great hall with Freki at her side. If she allowed her sire to wait too long, he would add to her humiliation by displaying her like a freshly caught trout in front of his guests. Much as she disliked appeasing him, flaunting her disdain was far worse.

When they reached the door to the hall, she raised a hand, whispering a command for her companion to wait outside the door as she perused the people seated in the great hall. Pale auras of color surrounded each man, giving the room a festive look were it not for the unsettling tale each told her. The reds of anger and lust, the brown of dishonesty, gray and sulphur of dark thoughts and pain. From long practice, she ignored the pale green of pity she knew were aimed at her.

Skirting the red auras, Katja moved silently into the room, attracting no
attention. Years of avoiding her father gave her the skill to move about the castle like a ghost, finding tremendous value in being invisible when the need called for it. It wasn’t until she stood near the foot of the lower tables that anyone noticed her. Laird Sinclair’s eyes gleamed.
“Ah, here is my daughter. Katja, meet the new MacGerry Laird.”

Calder glanced at the young woman who’d entered the room as silent as a ghost. Though the Sinclair men did not stand in respect at her introduction, Calder, Finn and the rest of the MacGerry men rose immediately from their seats. She offered a small curtsy, her gaze dropping to the floor, seeming uncomfortable with
the attention.

Calder stood stricken as if struck by a smithy’s hammer. He could do
nothing but stare at the lass in front of him who’d haunted his thoughts and dreamsfor so long. To his amazement, she appeared even more beautiful than he remembered. Grey. Her eyes were grey, not the dark blue he imagined. If he’d been told she was an angel come to earth he would not have doubted the claim for a moment.
Finn tugged on his sleeve and inclined his head toward the girl. Calder
retrieved enough of his wits to speak. “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lady Katja.”

The sight of a young man instead of the old laird she expected startled Katja. Tall, lean of muscle with dark brown hair and fair skin, his deep blue eyes were the color of sapphires or perhaps the ocean on a calm day. A high forehead, strong jaw and full lips made for a very handsome face. Lips which curved into a kind smile at her.

His eager blue eyes stared at her, as if caught in a pleasant dream. Katja’s stomach twisted in a way she’d not experienced before. Heat scorched its way from her head to her shoulders, tingling along her breasts and descending lower. She didn’t recognize or understand the strange awareness. Her breathing picked up its pace as her heart beat tripled. How could one look from a man inspire such a reaction?

She averted her gaze in an effort to wrestle her body and emotions under control. Inhaling deeply, she raised her eyes again only to find the same sensations slamming into her anew. She needed a distraction.

Use the sight. It doesnae lie.
Looking past her normal ability to see, she glanced first at her father. The darkening gray aura surrounding him reflected his greed, his nature growing more corrupt with time. A band of deep brown layered on top of the gray was new today. She knew it as a sign of deceit and wondered what he was up to. Scanning the rest of the table, the light blue surrounding her brothers Bjorn, Christer and Patrik reflected confusion. Whatever her father contrived with the MacGerry, they knew
nothing of it.

Katja exited the room quickly, daring her sire to rebuke her abruptness. As she crossed the doorway, Freki rose, following close behind. She made the necessary arrangements with the housekeeper, then headed for the respite of her bedchamber.
She slammed the door and threw the bolt as soon as she and Freki entered the room. Her father was clearly up to some deception. No matter his generous words, his brown aura said everything she needed to know, guaranteeing he would try to trick the MacGerry in some manner despite his seemingly warm hospitality.
Though the MacGerrys and Sinclairs had been bitter enemies longer than she could remember, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for them. Even the MacGerrys deserved better than betrayal at the hands of her father.

After tonight’s encounter, she vowed to avoid her sire more than ever.
Unsettled by her reaction to the new MacGerry laird, it was best to stay away until they concluded their business. She wasn’t sure she could stomach watching whatever duplicity her father planned, and she didn’t want their visitors to think she played any part in the treachery.

Blurb:
Calder MacGerry, laird of an impoverished clan, has resolved to end the
bitter feud between the MacGerrys and Sinclairs. He jumps at Laird Sinclair’s offer of marriage to his only daughter, Katja, to seal the agreement between their clans—only to get more than he bargained for.
Katja’s chance to escape her father’s harsh treatment appears to be too good to be true. But becoming Lady of a clan that despises her because she’s a Sinclair, doesn’t make her life any easier. When the attacks turn deadly, she fights her way out, making a dangerous passage to the Shetland Isles for refuge with her Viking family.
Calder and Katja’s marriage, built on mistrust, rushes quickly into disaster. As Calder seeks to repair the damage, Katja discovers not another enemy, but a husband who pledges a new beginning.
Buy link:
Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B0728HWJRY

Introducing a new Hardy Heroine you're sure to love!

Katja Sinclair has been emotionally abused and neglected most of her life. Her refusal to become a part of her demanding father's greedy machinations, earns her his scathing disapproval and scorn.

With few options open to her, she accepts marriage to the laird of a neighboring clan--hoping to end the feud between their clans and help right the wrongs to the MacGerrys at the hands of her father.

But nothing goes as planned, and even her marriage to the handsome Calder MacGerry, begun in optimisn, slides into distrust and despair. There are those in the MacGerry clan who despise her for being a Sinclair, and the attacks on her person become bolder.

Forced to fight for her freedom, Katja flees to the Shetland Isles to join her Viking family. There she will discover much about her past--and her future.

Available May 2017

DD and I would like to say thank-you to our readers and have put Highland Escape on sale for a few days.

Highland Escape:
https://www.amzn.com/dp/B00X60XB2U

​Fleeing the English army that murdered her family before her eyes, Anna Braxton rescues two young women, kidnapped by a barbaric Highland clan only to find herself unjustly imprisoned by the clan she aided. Disgusted by her treatment, she counters their belated offer of friendship with anger and distrust. But she does not count on the unexpected effect the laird’s son has on her heart. Duncan MacGregor does not understand his da’s command to imprison the young woman who saved his sister’s life. He is more than intrigued with Anna’s skill with a bow and sword—in fact, he is fascinated by everything about her, in spite of her lack of feminine wiles. Straightforward and with a deep-seated sense of honor, Anna Braxton disrupts his entire notion of a suitable woman. Trained as a warrior and unwilling to be any man’s chattel, Anna shuns the idea of marriage—until Duncan coaxes her into a world of acceptance and passion she never knew existed. He wants her as his wife. She will agree, but only on her own terms—conditions Duncan is not sure he can accept.