Bits 'n Bobs Author Blog
Help me welcome Mary Morgan to week #2 of our summer round of Medieval Monday excerpts. Mary brings us a peek from her book, Dragon Knight's Ring, Order of the Dragon Knights, book 5. What evil awaits the Dragon Knights? You'll find this week's excerpt from my book on her blog here: https://www.marymorganauthor.com/blog Dragon Knight's Ring Excerpt: Conn, Liam, and Rory stood on the outside of the stones. They had stripped to their trews, their arms upward. Celtic tattoos and spiral patterns blazed forth down their massive arms and body. The power of the Fenian warriors had transformed each. The power built, grew. Blue light surrounded each warrior as they chanted the ancient words to seal the realms of all worlds. She glanced down. The book lay at her feet, safe, protected. Magic guarded the ancient tome, and she clung to the Staff of Knowledge, waiting. Her brothers stood in a circle around her, and she watched the druid Cathal walking around them, saying a prayer of protection. When he finished, he nodded to them and retreated with the other druids to the trees. Layers upon layers of fortification. Awaiting the final battle between good and evil. Follow along next week on Barbara’s blog http://barbarabettis.blogspot.com/ and leave a comment for a chance to win a signed print copy of Dragon Knight’s Ring. Book Blurb: Crusader, Adam MacFhearguis is on one last quest to the standing stones in Scotland where he seeks to bury the past. However, a silent prayer sends him to an unknown future and to his beloved Meggie. When he uncovers a shocking revelation, Adam questions everything about the woman he thought he knew and loved. He may have traveled the veil of ages, but time is now his enemy. Margaret MacKay lives a life in the future without the memories of her past—her death. When Adam arrives at her door confessing he knows her, she is confused and wary. With each passing day, she yearns to learn more from this stranger. Yet, when a truth is revealed, can she trust the man to unlock the chains from her mind and heart? Will love free the bonds to unite the two lovers who were doomed centuries ago? Or will evil finally claim victory over the Dragon Knights? * * * Buy Links: Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dragon-Knights-Ring-Order-Book- ebook/dp/B01HDWY8S2/ B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dragon-knights-ring-mary- morgan/1123986946?ean=2940158146312 Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/dragon-knight-s-ring Apple iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dragon-knights-ring/id1133781893?mt=11
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Welcome back to Medieval Monday! This summer we'll be sharing excerpts on the evil villains from our books. So, buckle in, and prepare for a ride that will leave you rooting for the hero and heroine! Leave a comment each week to be entered for a chance to win an ebook (kindle) copy of The Highlander's Welsh Bride. I'll start the set off with an excerpt from The Highlander's Welsh Bride. A Welsh princess on the run from King Edward’s army, Carys finds herself embroiled with pirates pillaging the western coastline of Scotland. She has escaped their clutches twice before. Has her luck at last run out? “Ship ahoy!”
Carys released Birk to answer the captain’s call. She crossed to the circle where children, one dog, and a padded, salt-streaked leather ball romped across the deck. She dodged an errant kick and caught the ball as it flew toward her head. With a warning that a ball overboard was a ball forever gone, she tossed it back to Tully. He batted it to the deck and chased it down, stopping it next to a wooden bucket filled with sand. Eislyn rushed to his side, then turned to Carys. “Why are there buckets of sand on the deck? I count eight.” “I count lots,” Abria piped up, joining her sister. Taken aback, Carys struggled with her answer. “They are here in case of a fire,” she replied carefully. And to absorb blood to protect our footing during battle. But this she could not tell them. A shiver of premonitions swept down her spine. The children sent each other speculative looks that included the vast waters around them, then shrugged and returned to their game. Carys sighed thankfully and continued across the deck. “Birk told me of the Corryvreckan whirlpool,” she said as she reached Hanna’s side. The older woman nodded. “I’m certain ye have such tales in your land. The true story of the corryvreckan is a combination of Norse and Scots. I’ll tell it to ye sometime when curious ears aren’t listening.” Follow the excerpt next week to Mary Morgan’s blog: http://www.marymorganauthor.com Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook (kindle) of The Highlander’s Welsh Bride! Book Blurb: 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. 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. * * * Buy link: Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B07KNYTMPK 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 4/22/2019 5 Comments Medieval Monday with Mary MorganMedieval Monday week 12 '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 Enjoy! Blurb: (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 sorrow. 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? Excerpt:
“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. * * * 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 Enchantment. 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: AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0767QVJBX/ B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-highland-moon-enchantment-mary- morgan/1127176325 Apple iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-highland-moon- enchantment/id1294140045?mt=11 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/a-highland-moon-enchantment 4/15/2019 3 Comments Medieval Monday with Ashley YorkMedieval Monday 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. Blurb: “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 seduction. 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. * * * 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 |
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