I'm excited to welcome Elisabeth Hobbes to Medieval Monday.

You'll find my 2nd excerpt on her blog here:   https://elisabethhobbes.co.uk/
And be sure to follow me next week to Ashley York's blog:    https://www.ashleyyorkauthor.com
Remember to comment on my excerpts weekly for a chance to win a copy of The Highlander's Crusader Bride!

Here is the excerpt from Elisabeth's book, A Wager for the Widow

 ‘Yes, she’s beautiful,’ he admitted. He thought back again to their first meeting and his lips twitched. When she had rounded on him with such indignation on the ferry it had taken all his self- possession not to silence her fury with a kiss! Will ran his fingers through his hair, thanking his good fortune he hadn’t done so.
‘I think prickly would be a fair description,’ he conceded.
‘I always imagined taking a tumble with her would be akin to falling into a holly bush!’ Rob laughed.
Will snorted noncommittally, wondering what his brother would say if he knew how close to the holly bush he had got. The way her green eyes had widened as he’d pulled her close to him had sent a throb of raw desire through his entire body that even now threatened to return.
Enticing smells drifted from the kitchen so Will struck the large brass gong sharply. Whisking away their goblets, he took his position by the double doors to greet the household.
Presently the family and household servants began to make their way into the hall. Sir Edgar and Lady Fitzallan led the procession followed directly by Edmund Fitzallan escorting Lady Peyton on one arm and Anne Fitzallan, fourteen and the youngest of Sir Edgar’s children, on the other. Will bowed deeply as Sir Edgar led his family to the table on the dais, but could not resist casting a surreptitious look at Lady Peyton. She caught his eye and her step faltered. A rose-coloured flush
appeared enchantingly on each cheek.
                                       * * *
What has caused Eleanor’s reaction? See if next week’s excerpt contains the answer on Ruth A. Casie’s blog    https://www.RuthACasie.blogspot.com
For last week’s excerpt visit www.barbarabettis.blogspot.com
​
                        A WAGER FOR THE WIDOW

Widowed Lady Eleanor Peyton has chosen a life of independence. Living alone on her rocky coastal outcrop, she's cut herself off from the world of men—until William Rudhale saves her life
and demands a kiss!
As steward to Lady Eleanor's father, Will knows the desire he burns with is futile—but he'll still wager he can claim Eleanor's kiss by midwinter. Yet when the tide turns Will realizes vulnerable
Eleanor is far too precious to gamble with. Can he win his lady before it's too late?
                                            * * *
Buy links
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Wager-Widow-Elisabeth-Hobbes-ebook/dp/B00SFSZXXS
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-wager-for-the-widow-elisabeth-
hobbes/1121093242?ean=9781460384640
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wager-for-the-widow-mills-boon-historical-1
Mills & Boon: https://www.millsandboon.co.uk/p45341/a-wager-for-the-widow.htm

Today I'm sharing the hop with Elisabeth Hobbes and an excerpt from her book, Redeeming the Rogue Knight!

You can find my excerpt on Elisabeth's blog here: ​https://elisabethhobbes.co.uk/




​                                          Excerpt:

Lucy was running at full tilt towards the river and the road skirting round the town. She ignored Roger’s cry. He broke into a run and seized her by the arm.
She fought him, but Roger was not to be deterred.
He took her by the waist and held her tight, hands spread in the hollow of her spine. She wriggled in his arms like a dove trying to escape a hawk. He’d dreamed of holding her this close, the tantalising moments when they had come close to kissing had driven him wild, but this was not what he had imagined.
                                             * * *
Follow along next week for Elisabeth's next excerpt on Ruth A. Casie’s blog at http://ruthacasie.blogspot.co.uk
You'll find my next excerpt from The Highlander's Crusader Bride next week on Jenni Fletcher’s blog http://www.jennifletcher.com
                                               * * *
Book Blurb:

The spy who sought refuge... When injured spy Sir Roger Danby comes asking for shelter at her inn, Lucy Carew is wary. He may be strikingly handsome, but the disgraced single mother has learned the hard way with men like him. Against her better judgment, she gives him refuge.

Sir Roger has never been at the mercy of a woman before, and he's never met one as mysterious and bewitching as Lucy. He hasn't come looking for redemption, but Lucy is a woman who could reach in and
touch his closely guarded heart...

                                             * * *
Buy links:

Amazon
Harlequin
B&N
Book Depository

Why I write Medieval Romance
 
I’m sure my love of the Middle Ages is mainly due to where I’m from.  The city of York has a rich history dating back to the Vikings and Romans but many of the surviving buildings are medieval.  We have The Shambles (the low rows of cottages looming towards each other that housed the city’s butchers) the magnificent Minster and Guild houses, streets of Medieval buildings too numerous to mention and the magnificent gated walls which still encircle the town.  I spent most of my teenage years wandering around the city looking for a handsome Roman or Viking to sweep me off my feet. Sadly this never happened but growing up somewhere like that it was impossible not to develop a passion for the period as I walked to and from school past castles and ruins imagining the lives and loves of the people who came before me.
 
The Medieval period had very clearly defined conventions, social structure and strict codes of behaviour, and transgressing these had real, life threatening consequences.  Not for my characters the genteel Regency ballroom and risk of being ‘cut’ by the Ton. Put a foot wrong in my world and you’ll find yourself on the wrong end of the sword not a snapping fan!  It was a time of conquest and conflict, tournaments and battles.  Life was harsh and dangerous, life expectancy was low but the period gave rise to the code of chivalry and some of the greatest architecture still standing. 

viewAuthor.at/ElisabethHobbes
 
http://bit.ly/ElisabethHobbes

Elisabeth’s writing career began when she entered her first novel, Falling for Her Captor, into Harlequin's So You Think You Can Write contest.  She finished in third place and was offered a two book contract.  She has since written five novels for Harlequin Mills & Boon with settings and eras ranging from the turbulent events of post-Conquest Cheshire to the thrilling tournaments of thirteenth century York.
 
As well as writing, Elisabeth is a part time teacher and full time mum to two children. She spends whatever spare time she has reading and is a pro at cooking one-handed while holding a book.

Elisabeth's other hobbies include horse riding, skiing, Arabic dance, fencing and exploring dreadful tourist attractions, none of which has made it into a story yet. She loves ginger mojitos, historical fiction and has a fondness for dark haired, bearded heroes.
 
Elisabeth lives in Cheshire because her car broke down there when she was house hunting and she never left.

It's week 8 in our Medieval Blog hop, and that means Elisabeth Hobbes is here to share the next excerpt from her book, The Saxon Outlaw's Revenge.

Following a failed uprising, Constance Arnaud is forced to watch the execution of Saxon rebels at the hands of her brother-in-law, Norman nobleman, Robert de Coudray.

Is this the end for Aelric?

Excerpt #8:
The soldiers seized hold of Aelric, who cried out and struggled as they dragged him towards his father. Constance’s stomach twisted as if someone had taken a stick and wound it through her guts, coiling it tight.
‘Please don’t!’
The words left her mouth before she could stop herself. She realised she had pushed herself to her feet.
What do you think you’re doing, girl?’ Robert rounded on Constance, his face knotted with fury far greater than he had shown to the condemned men or the boy. The blood in her veins turned to ice, but she could feel her face flushing. The eyes of everyone in the square were on her.
‘Set him free,’ Constance said.
                                              * * * 
Can Robert’s heart be softened? Laurel O’Donnell shares next Monday’s excerpt at http://www.laurel-odonnell.com/blog.html

Blurb from Knight Errant:
At the mercy of her enemy!
Abducted by Saxon outlaws, Constance Arnaud comes face to face with Aelric, a Saxon boy she once loved. He’s now her enemy, but Constance must reach out to this rebel and persuade him to save her life as she once saved his…
Aelric is determined to seek vengeance on the Normans who destroyed his family. Believing Constance deserted him, he can never trust her again. Yet, as they are thrown together and their longing for each other reignites, will Aelric discover that love is stronger than revenge?
 
Buy links        
​US http://bit.ly/SaxonOutlaw
UK http://bit.ly/OutlawSaxon

 

Will has made a wager. But will he win?

Take a peek at Elisabeth Hobbes' book, A Wager for the Widow.

 
 Excerpt:
Nothing more needed to be done. The beeswax candles glowed on each table, chandelier and wall sconce, their scent mingling with bundles of dried lavender. The tables were laid with Sir Edgar’s finest plate, enamelled silver glinting in the firelight. Fresh rushes had been laid on the floor and the soft music of lute and harp drifted from the gallery above.
Will looked round with satisfaction and smiled to himself. He pictured Eleanor’s expression when she saw the Great Hall and raised his cup to his lips in silent tribute to her. By his side Edmund continued to talk though Will had stopped listening. He could have done without Edmund bragging about his latest bedroom conquest in his ear.
Love or wealth.
Will had been thinking all day about Eleanor and Lady Fitzallan’s argument when he had interrupted them and had a dreadful suspicion they were discussing Allencote. The knight had been seeking Eleanor out the previous evening and Will had rarely seen them apart over the last two days. Had he told her of his debts and did she want to marry him despite her parent’s wishes? He found it hard to believe she had fallen for Allencote so quickly, but could think of no other explanation for her words.
‘You’re playing a risky game, Will,’ Edmund said.
Will’s started at hearing his name.
‘It’s a lot of money to lose and she won’t unbend by midnight. Admit defeat and I’ll cut the stake by three groats,’ Edmund said magnanimously.
The wager. Will ran a hand through his hair as, not for the first time, his conscience stabbed. If Eleanor was reckless in choosing love over wealth, he was guilty of doing the opposite, continuing to chase his stake when Eleanor had long since filled his heart more than the thought of riches filled his mind. He had seen enough to know he had awakened the feelings Edmund believed Eleanor had buried, but if she was planning to bestow them on Allencote, money was all Will could hope to gain from the wager. That and a memory to console himself with.
He frowned at Edmund’s words. ‘It isn’t midnight yet. I’ll still win,’ he said confidently.
‘Win what? What stake?’ Anne Fitzallan’s head appeared over her brother’s shoulder. She peered at the men curiously. Edmund pulled her around into a hug and she laughed with delight.
‘William is about to make me a richer man.’ Edmund grinned.
Anne narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Will glared at Edmund. ‘It’s nothing of note,’ he cut in quickly, ‘simply a silly game.’ Changing the subject, he asked, ‘Are you looking forward to the feast?’
Anne twirled around, displaying her flowing skirt. ‘Yes, I am. The Earl of Etherington’s squire has asked me for the first dance. I think he likes me.’
Will smiled. ‘I’m happy for you. The lad’s of good family and the earl is a fair master.’
Anne danced away. It was fortunate her attachment had not been long lasting, Will mused. He doubted his own heart would mend as quickly.
A fanfare sounded and the Master of the Chamber swung the great double doors open. Guests began to file into the room and take their allotted places, colourful and extravagantly clothed. Allencote appeared, looking handsome and confident in a burgundy surcoat with broadly slashed sleeves and cuffs. Will glanced down at his own attire: a plain black surcoat and breeches, the discreet orange-and-green collar and cuffs the only outward indication of his position. Let others dress themselves like peacocks to display their greatness. Will had no need.
Eleanor walked through the doorway and Will forgot everything.
She wore green. Pale silk under a mantle of heavy, emerald velvet laced with gold braid from beneath her high breasts to her slender waist. Her hair had been twisted atop her head and encased in a net of gold so that her braids flamed between the metal. The gown left her shoulders bare and the elegant expanse of creamy flesh sent Will’s heart thudding into his stomach.
Half-a-dozen men leapt to their feet as they saw Eleanor, but Will was quicker. He tore his gaze from the curve of her throat and collarbone and strode to her. He bowed before her, then lifted his head. His eyes travelled slowly up her body until he met her gaze, determined to leave her in no doubt of the effect she was having upon him. She looked uncertain until Will gave her a discreet wink. She smiled back and the world brightened, as though a hundred more candles had begun to burn.
‘Let me escort you to your seat, Lady Peyton,’ Will said formally. As she took his outstretched arm he whispered in an undertone, ‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the room. It was worth the hailstorm to see you in that dress.’
Eleanor said nothing, but a blush crept across her cheeks and her fingers tightened on his arm. Will led her to her seat, reluctantly relinquishing her to the company of the Sheriff of Tawstott. He could barely keep his eyes from her for the rest of the feast.
 
When the final dishes had been removed the tables were cleared for the dancing to begin. The musicians tuned their instruments and an expectant hush fell over the hall.
Allencote began to thread his way through the crowd towards her and Will crossed the room to her side. The two men reached her at the same time. Eleanor looked from one to the other apprehensively.
‘Will you dance the first measure with me, Lady Peyton?’ Allencote asked, a shade before Will could ask the same question.
Eleanor’s eyes flickered briefly to Will’s. He held her gaze boldly though his stomach curled with anxiety. It was out of his hands now. If she chose Allencote, he had lost everything.
 
 
Blurb: ‘I SUPPOSE A KISS OF GRATITUDE IS OUT OF THE QUESTION?’
Widowed Lady Eleanor Peyton has chosen a life of independence. Living alone on her rocky coastal outcrop, she’s cut herself off from the world of men – until William Rudhale saves her life and demands a kiss!
As steward to Lady Eleanor’s father, Will knows the desire he burns with is futile – but he’ll still wager he can claim Eleanor’s kiss by midwinter! Yet when the tide turns Will realises vulnerable Eleanor is far too precious to gamble with. Can he win his lady before it’s too late?
Buy links
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wager-Widow-Mills-Boon-Historical-ebook/dp/B00VS0FV5U/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=
 
https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wager-for-the-widow-mills-boon-historical-1
 
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SFSZXXS
 
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wager-for-the-widow-1
 
 

Will has made a wager. But will he win?

Take a peek at Elisabeth Hobbes' book, A Wager for the Widow.

 
 Excerpt:
Nothing more needed to be done. The beeswax candles glowed on each table, chandelier and wall sconce, their scent mingling with bundles of dried lavender. The tables were laid with Sir Edgar’s finest plate, enamelled silver glinting in the firelight. Fresh rushes had been laid on the floor and the soft music of lute and harp drifted from the gallery above.
Will looked round with satisfaction and smiled to himself. He pictured Eleanor’s expression when she saw the Great Hall and raised his cup to his lips in silent tribute to her. By his side Edmund continued to talk though Will had stopped listening. He could have done without Edmund bragging about his latest bedroom conquest in his ear.
Love or wealth.
Will had been thinking all day about Eleanor and Lady Fitzallan’s argument when he had interrupted them and had a dreadful suspicion they were discussing Allencote. The knight had been seeking Eleanor out the previous evening and Will had rarely seen them apart over the last two days. Had he told her of his debts and did she want to marry him despite her parent’s wishes? He found it hard to believe she had fallen for Allencote so quickly, but could think of no other explanation for her words.
‘You’re playing a risky game, Will,’ Edmund said.
Will’s started at hearing his name.
‘It’s a lot of money to lose and she won’t unbend by midnight. Admit defeat and I’ll cut the stake by three groats,’ Edmund said magnanimously.
The wager. Will ran a hand through his hair as, not for the first time, his conscience stabbed. If Eleanor was reckless in choosing love over wealth, he was guilty of doing the opposite, continuing to chase his stake when Eleanor had long since filled his heart more than the thought of riches filled his mind. He had seen enough to know he had awakened the feelings Edmund believed Eleanor had buried, but if she was planning to bestow them on Allencote, money was all Will could hope to gain from the wager. That and a memory to console himself with.
He frowned at Edmund’s words. ‘It isn’t midnight yet. I’ll still win,’ he said confidently.
‘Win what? What stake?’ Anne Fitzallan’s head appeared over her brother’s shoulder. She peered at the men curiously. Edmund pulled her around into a hug and she laughed with delight.
‘William is about to make me a richer man.’ Edmund grinned.
Anne narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Will glared at Edmund. ‘It’s nothing of note,’ he cut in quickly, ‘simply a silly game.’ Changing the subject, he asked, ‘Are you looking forward to the feast?’
Anne twirled around, displaying her flowing skirt. ‘Yes, I am. The Earl of Etherington’s squire has asked me for the first dance. I think he likes me.’
Will smiled. ‘I’m happy for you. The lad’s of good family and the earl is a fair master.’
Anne danced away. It was fortunate her attachment had not been long lasting, Will mused. He doubted his own heart would mend as quickly.
A fanfare sounded and the Master of the Chamber swung the great double doors open. Guests began to file into the room and take their allotted places, colourful and extravagantly clothed. Allencote appeared, looking handsome and confident in a burgundy surcoat with broadly slashed sleeves and cuffs. Will glanced down at his own attire: a plain black surcoat and breeches, the discreet orange-and-green collar and cuffs the only outward indication of his position. Let others dress themselves like peacocks to display their greatness. Will had no need.
Eleanor walked through the doorway and Will forgot everything.
She wore green. Pale silk under a mantle of heavy, emerald velvet laced with gold braid from beneath her high breasts to her slender waist. Her hair had been twisted atop her head and encased in a net of gold so that her braids flamed between the metal. The gown left her shoulders bare and the elegant expanse of creamy flesh sent Will’s heart thudding into his stomach.
Half-a-dozen men leapt to their feet as they saw Eleanor, but Will was quicker. He tore his gaze from the curve of her throat and collarbone and strode to her. He bowed before her, then lifted his head. His eyes travelled slowly up her body until he met her gaze, determined to leave her in no doubt of the effect she was having upon him. She looked uncertain until Will gave her a discreet wink. She smiled back and the world brightened, as though a hundred more candles had begun to burn.
‘Let me escort you to your seat, Lady Peyton,’ Will said formally. As she took his outstretched arm he whispered in an undertone, ‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the room. It was worth the hailstorm to see you in that dress.’
Eleanor said nothing, but a blush crept across her cheeks and her fingers tightened on his arm. Will led her to her seat, reluctantly relinquishing her to the company of the Sheriff of Tawstott. He could barely keep his eyes from her for the rest of the feast.
 
When the final dishes had been removed the tables were cleared for the dancing to begin. The musicians tuned their instruments and an expectant hush fell over the hall.
Allencote began to thread his way through the crowd towards her and Will crossed the room to her side. The two men reached her at the same time. Eleanor looked from one to the other apprehensively.
‘Will you dance the first measure with me, Lady Peyton?’ Allencote asked, a shade before Will could ask the same question.
Eleanor’s eyes flickered briefly to Will’s. He held her gaze boldly though his stomach curled with anxiety. It was out of his hands now. If she chose Allencote, he had lost everything.
 
 
Blurb: ‘I SUPPOSE A KISS OF GRATITUDE IS OUT OF THE QUESTION?’
Widowed Lady Eleanor Peyton has chosen a life of independence. Living alone on her rocky coastal outcrop, she’s cut herself off from the world of men – until William Rudhale saves her life and demands a kiss!
As steward to Lady Eleanor’s father, Will knows the desire he burns with is futile – but he’ll still wager he can claim Eleanor’s kiss by midwinter! Yet when the tide turns Will realises vulnerable Eleanor is far too precious to gamble with. Can he win his lady before it’s too late?
Buy links
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wager-Widow-Mills-Boon-Historical-ebook/dp/B00VS0FV5U/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=
 
https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wager-for-the-widow-mills-boon-historical-1
 
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SFSZXXS
 
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wager-for-the-widow-1