Medieval Monday - Betrothal by Jenna Jaxon

This is the same Medieval Monday that features some of the best romance out there but now it’s with a twist. Each week a different author will be featured here with a “themed excerpt.” This month, all the excerpts will be about a celebration for the holidays. Today’s guest is Jenna Jaxon. Have a wonderful New Year and enjoy Jenna's excerpt! 

BETROTHAL

 The heart can choose, but can it also change?

Lady Alyse de Courcy has fallen in love with Lord Braeton, a nobleman in King Edward III’s court and a man to whom she has barely spoken. Fate, however, has decreed her betrothal to his best friend, Sir Geoffrey Longford—a handsome and imposing knight, yet hardly the man she wants to wed.

When Sir Geoffrey is bound in betrothal by his father, he could not have expected the beautiful stranger to win his heart the moment they meet. But Alyse’s infatuation with his friend casts doubt on whether she can ever return his regard and their wedding day is fast approaching…  Will he have time enough to win her love?

Excerpt:

As the champions met at the end of the Great Hall, the trumpeters sounded the fanfare once again. Alyse flanked Princess Joanna as she stepped forward, Lady Carlyle on her other side. The gentlemen came forward to claim their ladies and lead them into the middle of the Hall. The musicians struck up a stately carole, and the three couples formed pairs, one following the other, creating a line that moved gradually around the Hall. She and Geoffrey were the center pair and slowly trailed behind the princess and her partner.

Acutely aware that this was their first dance together, Alyse found it almost impossible to keep her eyes forward as propriety demanded. She darted glances at Geoffrey as they moved through the deliberate steps, her blood singing with each glimpse of his elegant figure. Hand and hand—the heat they generated threatened to set her ablaze—they stepped to the slow beat, now forward, now backward, slowly making their way around the Great Hall. Again, the yearning overtook her to belong to this man utterly and intimately. To be his in every way possible before it was too late. But for the grace of God, tonight could have been too late. He could have been killed today, and she would never have known the joy of belonging to him completely.

She wanted to remember every moment of this dance, to be able to savor each one later, but the flickering light, the heat of the chamber, the intensity of the music and her own thundering heart worked to make the dance a swirl of impressions—riotous and fleeting. When the music ended, Alyse’s head still reeled.

Geoffrey turned smartly toward her and bowed low, and she curtsied in return. Then he took her hand and kissed it. Her breath came faster, and her heart thudded in her ears as a full flush of heat rose in her face. The touch of his lips on her skin fought like fire and ice: she first burned then trembled as chills raced through her body. She barely heard the thunderous applause and cheers of the assembly.

BUY LINKS:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00CF6UZFW?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

FREE ON THE FOLLOWING SITES:

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Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/307838

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-betrothalbook1timeenoughtolove-1208629-161.html

Medieval Monday - The Heart of the Phoenix by Barbara Bettis

*.✫*¨*.¸¸.✶*¨`* HAVE A COOL YULE AND FABULOUS FIRST *¨`*✶.¸¸.*¨*✫.*

This is the same Medieval Monday that features some of the best romance out there but now it’s with a twist. Each week a different author will be featured here with a “themed excerpt.” This month, all the excerpts will be about a celebration for the holidays. Today’s guest is Barbara Bettis. You’re going to love this excerpt. Enjoy!

Back Cover Copy:

Some call him a ruthless mercenary; she calls him the knight of her heart. 
Memories
Lady Evelynn’s childhood hero is home—bitter, hard, tempting as sin. And haunted by secrets. A now-grown Evie offers friendship, but Sir Stephen's cruel rejection crushes her, and she resolves to forget him. Yet when an unexpected war throws them together, she finds love isn’t so easy to dismiss. If only the king hadn’t betrothed her to another.

Can be cruel
Sir Stephen lives a double life while he seeks the treacherous outlaws who murdered his friends. Driven by revenge, he thinks his heart is closed to love. His childhood shadow, Lady Evie, unexpectedly challenges that belief. He rebuffs her, but he can’t forget her, although he knows she’s to wed the king’s favorite. 

And deadly 
When his drive for vengeance leads to Evie’s kidnapping, Stephen must choose between retribution and the love he’s denied too long. Surely King John will see reason. Convict the murderers; convince the king. Simple. Until a startling revelation threatens everything. 

Buy Links: The Wild Rose Press

Excerpt:

Granville Castle, Lincolnshire 

December 1197

“Go away, little shadow.” Sir Stephen’s words roared above the December wind that snapped across the castle tower’s roof.

Lady Evelynn shielded her eyes against the stinging bites of snow. She couldn’t make out his location. There. A flash of light from the huge bonfire in the bailey below illuminated his form, facing out into the night.

Arms braced, the tall figure leaned across the waist-high stone embrasure, as if he welcomed the wild winter gales.

How did he know who stood behind him? And why must he use that foolish childhood nickname? Her resolve wavered then flared once more. Let him ignore her, then. She would pay no heed to his indifference, just as she had as a child. He needed a friend right now.

He just didn’t realize it.

She clenched her hands, caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and stepped from the dim recesses of the doorway. Light from a lone torch just inside the landing at the top of the stairs flickered across the whitened walkway.

 “Are you well?” Evie shivered as she picked a path along the slick surface. She hadn’t brought a cloak. When he left the celebration with a bleak, dark look on his face, she followed without thinking.

He was in pain. She of all people could recognize the signs, could even understand a need for solitude. Yet the urge to comfort him drove her.

A moment’s uncertainty made her pause, however. This hard Sir Stephen little resembled the young squire she once knew. But the memory of their long-ago friendship drove her on.

He did not turn as she eased forward in her soft slippers. What could he possibly see in the snow-flecked blackness? Perhaps he regretted releasing Lady Emelin so readily. 

She raised her voice. “I thought when you left the hall—” She paused as his head turned slightly.

“That I could not bear to see my betrothed wed another man?”  His voice mocked. “Did you feel sorry for me?”

The sharp words failed to wound. He wouldn’t drive her away so easily.

“It would be understandable,” she said, at last reaching his side. Another frigid gust brought sounds of merriment from the bailey below. Snow would never deter the villagers when they celebrated the marriage of their new lord. This year’s Christmastide would be doubly rich with gifts and happiness.

“I’m happy to see her wed Sir Giles.” He turned to stare outward at nothing again. “I have no desire for a wife. Ever.”

Visit Barb at:

www.barbarabettis.blogspot.com

http://www.facebook.com/BarbaraBettisAuthor

Medieval Monday - The Dragon Knight's Shield by Mary Morgan

This is the same Medieval Monday that features some of the best romance out there but now it’s with a twist. Each week a different author will be featured here with a “themed excerpt.” This month, all the excerpts will be about a celebration for the holidays. Today’s guest is Mary Morgan. You’re going to love this excerpt. Enjoy!

Back Cover Copy:

Angus MacKay, leader of the Dragon Knights, failed his brothers and his clan upon the death of his sister. Now he must fight the darkness of despair tempting his soul. Back on Scottish soil, he comes face to face with Deirdre who can wield a sword as mightily as his warriors, and he takes her captive. Yet, with each passing day, the fire dragon inside him roars to claim the one woman fate has destined for him. 

Famed mystery writer, Deirdre Flanagan, is unprepared for the next chapter in her life. On a vacation to Scotland, she steps through the mists and enters into a skirmish alongside a Highlander. However, the fight has only begun, and now she must battle Angus as well as evil in order to claim the love of this Dragon Knight. 

Will their love be powerful enough to shield them from danger, or burn them to ashes?

Release Date: January 8, 2016

Pre-order from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Dragon-Knights-Shield-Order-Book-ebook/dp/B018MESJ12/

Excerpt:

Several other minstrels picked up their lyre and harp and started to play as the feasting began.

“Would ye care for the venison, Deirdre?”

“Gosh, yes! I’m starving.” Feeling a bit lightheaded, she inhaled the aroma of the meat mixed with onions. “Smells divine.”

As she scooped up a portion with a piece of bread, she closed her eyes, savoring the flavors. Upon opening them, she found Angus staring at her. Taking his finger, he wiped away some of the juices on her cheek and licked them off. Feeling the heat prickle her face, she reached for her mug and downed its contents.

Chuckling softly, he continued to focus on his own meal.

When she could eat no more, she spied a dark looking dish near Cormac. She nudged Angus. “What is that?”

“Ahh…’tis a favorite of mine. Plums in wine and spices. Would ye care to taste them?”

“Of course.”

Stretching forward, Angus brought forth the dish. Dipping his finger in the bowl, he held out the plum in front of her.

“Umm…you don’t expect me to lick the fruit off your finger?” Deirdre looked around, thinking all eyes were on them.

“Dinnae worry, just taste.” The husky burr of his voice causing her nerves to tingle with excitement.

Slowly, she ate the delectable fruit from his finger. “More,” she demanded.

“Ye are bonny to watch,” he whispered against her ear. Swiping an even bigger piece, he literally shoved two fingers into her mouth. This time she trailed her tongue along his fingers and heard him growl.

Cormac coughed, and she quickly turned away. Another minstrel started to play a lute as he strolled among the tables. His song was one of lost lovers and Deirdre became entranced by his singing. Approaching their table, he paused, letting his fingers glide over the strings.

His eyes met hers as he sung, “The wisdom of the lovers’ hearts can be lost within the reason of the mind—forever adrift and never to be found again.” His last words of the song struck a chord within her, causing her heart to ache. How foolish she had been.

As she watched him slowly walk away, she felt Angus’s hand covering hers. When she looked into his eyes, she knew without a doubt that love had truly claimed her heart for the first time in her life.

Medieval Monday - The Saxon Bride by Ashley York

This is the same Medieval Monday that features some of the best romance out there but now it’s with a twist. Each week a different author will be featured here with a “themed excerpt.” This month, all the excerpts will be about a celebration for the holidays. Today’s guest is Ashley York. You’re going to love this excerpt. Enjoy!

Back Cover Copy

In war torn England the battle lines between Saxon and Norman are clearly drawn. The Saxons must fight for everything they have in the hopes of winning their country back from the Normans who are determined to break their resistance. 

Rowena Godwinson, the sole remaining member of the defeated royal family, stands proudly against the Normans that would trample them underfoot. Her nobility and grace, however, make her an ideal pawn in King William’s play for power with the Saxon people. When he decrees she marry a powerful Norman knight, her subjugation appears to be complete. Can she hold firm to her Saxon heritage and refuse to give in to his tempting advances? 

John of Normandy wants only to prove himself worthy of the king's trust. He is rewarded for his service and loyalty with land, titles and a Saxon beauty for a bride. John balks at the marriage, driven by the secret guilt of knowing Rowena's father died at his sword. 

As their people look to them for guidance and peace, can John and Rowena find a love strong enough to unite all of England? 

Buy Links: Amazon  iTunes  Kobo  B&N

Excerpt: 

       Her response to his looks was quite disconcerting. She cleared her throat."How do you find your manor after your long absence, my lord?"

John eyebrows shot up. She hadn't meant to find fault...or maybe she did.

"I was taken aback to find you do not care for the stores and such. Is there a reason you refuse to act as is your right as my wife?"

Her mouth opened slightly at the lie. "My lord, I have been given no such leave. Your king replaced me as chatelaine on his first visit here."

John searched her face before correcting her. "Our king."

"Yes." Rowena dropped her gaze. A slip of the tongue.

"You would accept this position then?"

She looked up but hesitated, not wanting to overstep her bounds. "It would give me great pleasure to be in charge of the running of the castle."

"Then run it you shall."

Rowena nibbled at her lip to hide her smile. Since the Normans had come, no one obeyed her unless they wanted to. The king had never come to meet with her but instead with those he had put in charge of her. Now John was giving her back her rightful place. Things were progressing better than she had hoped.

The young girl, Sarah, had replaced Ruth and was in front of the table offering a basket of almond-stuffed dates dripping with honey. Rowena returned her genuine smile. She was a lovely child. Serving the lord and lady was a big responsibility.

Offering the sweets to the new lord, Sarah's face fell as he declined with a shake of his hand.

"Oh, yes, please." Rowena hurriedly accepted the sweet. Sarah beamed in appreciation and moved on to the next table.

Rowena put the treat to her mouth and took a small bite. The honey smeared her lips. Quickly, John was leaning toward her, pulling her close. He licked her lips before kissing her. He was so tender that she was moved by the gesture and leaned into him, wanting the kiss to continue.

The burst of applause from those present in the hall surprised Rowena. She smiled in answer when they separated at last. Not all present looked happy with their display of affection. Noticing John had not yet moved away, she realized he was waiting for another kiss. She kissed him chastely. He frowned but pulled back.

The young man on her left caught her eye. He sat against the wall, his clay whistle on his lap. He had a small smile and looked at her expectantly. It was Cedric, the performer. Too shy to come to the table himself, he was apparently hoping Rowena would intervene on his behalf. She did not disappoint. Trying not to smile at his bashfulness, she turned back toward John.

"My lord…" Catching him unguarded, she was taken aback by the look of sadness she saw there. It passed so quickly, she wondered if she had imagined it.

"My lady?"

A ripple of delight washed over her at the title. She glanced away to hide her pleasure.

"Our performer tonight is a bit shy and hoping you would enjoy hearing his songs," she said. "He is very good. Will you address him?"

She tipped her head slightly indicating the man.

"Please." John smiled warmly at the performer and stood, facing those in hall. "Friends and visitors, let us rejoice in the blessing of music that God has given us by listening to…" realizing he didn't know the man's name, his composure fell slightly and he looked to Rowena to complete the introduction. "Rowena?"

"Cedric."

"Cedric." John lifted his cup.

Applause broke out with murmurs of excitement as the man stepped into the middle of the hall. A sudden hush fell like a blanket over the hall in anticipation of the entertainment as Cedric produced one long note from his whistle then cleared his throat. No longer the shy young man, he took over the music with confidence, having nothing more than his voice and a whistle.

Lifting his strong, clear voice, he told the story of the fallen soldier. He had been killed by an arrow and left to die alone by his companions. While he suffered the inevitable, it was a fallow deer that came to be with him. The story was enchanting and one of Rowena's favorites. She brushed away a tear and clapped enthusiastically. Cedric blushed as he bowed low. Next taking up his whistle, the pleasant music increased the peaceful mood that fell over the hushed crowd.

John wiped at her cheek, his touch light. "That song brought tears?"

Rowena dipped her head, shrugging a shoulder. "I think it is a lovely story. ‘Tis all."

"Ah, my wife has great sentiment." He took her hand in his. "I will remember that."

Medieval Monday ~ Snow in July by Kim Iverson Headlee

This is the same Medieval Monday that features some of the best romance out there but now it’s with a twist. Each week a different author will be featured here with a “themed excerpt.” This month, all the excerpts will be about the hero and heroine’s first encounter. Today's excerpt is by Kim Inverson Headlee. You're going to love it. Enjoy!

Excerpt

As Sir Ruaud babbled in his semicoherent English about Sir Robert, Kendra fought a jumble of emotions regarding Ruaud’s squire. Not only was his station beneath her rank, his being Norman placed him beneath her contempt. And yet she couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

Several inches taller than Sir Ruaud, the squire was trim where Ruaud sported a paunch, and he radiated quiet dignity to counter Ruaud’s comic disposition. Both men wore their blond hair cropped close, but Ruaud’s darker locks didn’t curl about his ears and forehead in whimsical wisps begging to be touched. Ruaud’s nose bore the lumpish evidence of having been broken at least once, but no scars marred the squire’s face. And those eyes—merciful heaven, if the squire regarded her once more with those probing, sea-green eyes, she would faint from the delectable agony.

 Relief washed over her when he broke eye contact and strode to the packhorse. Broad shoulders and sinewy arms rippled as he wrestled something from a saddle pack. For one wanton moment, she imagined being encircled by those arms, protected, cherished. Loved… happy…

 She shook her head. One of his countrymen had murdered her brother. She must despise this man.

 And yet that task was proving to be a major chore.

Blurb

Sir Robert Alain de Bellencombre has been granted what every man wants: a rich English estate in exchange for his valiant service at the Battle of Hastings. To claim this reward, the Norman knight must wed the estate's Saxon heiress. Most men would leap at such an opportunity, but for Alain, who broke his vow to his dying mother by failing to protect his youngest brother in battle, it means facing more easily broken vows. But when rumors of rampant thievery, dangerous beasts, and sorcery plaguing a neighboring estate reach his ears, nothing will make him shirk duty to king and country when people's lives stand at risk. He assumes the guise of a squire to scout the land, its problems, and its lady.

 Lady Kendra of Edgarburh has been granted what no woman wants: a forced marriage to an enemy who may be kith or kin to the man who murdered her beloved brother. Compounding her anguish is her failure to awaken the miraculous healing gift bequeathed by their late mother in time to save his life. Although with his dying breath, he made her promise to seek happiness above all, Kendra vows that she shall find neither comfort nor love in the arms of a Norman…unless it snows in July.

 Alain is smitten by Lady Kendra from the first moment of their meeting; Kendra feels the forbidden allure of the handsome and courtly Norman "squire." But a growing evil overshadows everyone, invoking dark forces and ensnaring Kendra in a plot to overthrow the king Alain is oath-bound to serve. Kendra and Alain face a battle unlike any other as their honor, their love, their lives, and even their very souls lie in the balance.

Buy Links

Amazon Kindle – http://getBook.at/Snow_in_July_by_KIH_Kindle

Amazon Paperback –http://myBook.to/Snow_in_July_by_KIH_paperback

Barned & Noble Nook – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/snow-in-july-kim-headlee/1119853202?ean=2940149693818&itm=1&usri=2940149693818

Barnes & Nobel Paperback – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/snow-in-july-kim-headlee/1119853202?ean=9780990505501

Kobo – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/snow-in-july

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/450831

iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id892162990

Medieval Monday ~ Betrothal by Jenna Jaxon

Welcome to Medieval Monday! During the next several months, I will be featuring different Medieval authors and their stories. Each month there will be a specific theme. This month’s theme is, “First Encounter with the Hero and Heroine.”

Jenna Jaxon is here today with her story, Betrothal.

My first guest is the multi-talented Jenna Jaxon with a reveal of Sir Geoffrey and Lady Alyse's first meeting from BETROTHAL.

Blurb:
The heart can choose, but can it also change?

Lady Alyse de Courcy has fallen in love with Lord Braeton, a nobleman in King Edward III’s court and a man to whom she has barely spoken. Fate, however, has decreed her betrothal to his best friend, Sir Geoffrey Longford—a handsome and imposing knight, yet hardly the man she wants to wed.
 

When Sir Geoffrey is bound in betrothal by his father, he could not have expected the beautiful stranger to win his heart the moment they meet. But Alyse’s infatuation with his friend casts doubt on whether she can ever return his regard and their wedding day is fast approaching…  Will he have time enough to win her love?

Excerpt:
Mere seconds before she learned her fate. She could scarce affect an indifferent pose before the court when inside every inch of her quivered with anticipation of the name. His name, pray God, on the king’s lips.

Thomas.

In her mind, she heard the word.

The king straightened, glanced at her then at the man by her side.

“What say you then, Sir Geoffrey? Does the lady not speak fair? I vow she will make you a proper wife and a dutiful one as well.”

Alyse turned, until that moment unaware that Geoffrey Longford stood beside her. Chills coursed down her body as the king’s words echoed in her mind. The sensation of falling backward assailed her, as though she rushed away from the tall man at her side even as his figure loomed larger and larger in her sight.

Not Lord Braeton.

Her numbed brain repeated the phrase, trying to comprehend that instead he would be her husband. Geoffrey Longford.
God have mercy on me, for by the look of him, this man will not.

Fearful, she cringed as her gaze climbed higher, over his chest, over his chin, finally resting on the dark blue eyes turned toward her.

Geoffrey returned her appraisal, his gaze sweeping her figure as a smile crept over his face. “Your Majesty.” He spoke to the king but his attention remained fixed on Alyse. “When my father told me of the betrothal contract before I left his home, I resolved to play the dutiful son. Now, however, I find I do not wish to act that role after all.” His eyes held hers as he paused.

Dear God, does he mean to renounce me here before the entire court?

Alyse stared at the man beside her, willing herself to remain upright, despite the waves of ice and fire alternating through her body.

“Now I find I would rather play the ardent lover.”

An amused murmur ran through the Hall at his words. Sir Geoffrey grinned, his eyes sparkling with humor and something more. Despite the uneven light, Alyse saw an unfathomable promise in their dark depths. She took a shaky breath and looked away.

“I affirm Lady Alyse to be all that could be hoped for in a wife. Please you and God, we shall make the match and with all good haste.”

His self-satisfied tone and the thought of his outrageous teasing touched a contrary nerve in Alyse. She pulled her wits together and beamed brilliantly at her newly-betrothed lord. “Take care, my lord, for the wise women say, ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure.’”

Sir Geoffrey raised a dark eyebrow while those around the banquet hall laughed. Heart pounding at her audacity, Alyse watched helplessly as he reached over and lifted her hand. “Such repentance could never be suffered too slowly, my lady, if ’twere your gentle hand that held mine through it.”

Laughter and applause washed over Alyse, who was struck absolutely dumb at the touch of his lips to her skin. Her heart pounded, and a strange roaring sounded in her ears; she wondered vaguely if she were about to faint.

Spellbound, she watched him, head bent over her now-smoldering hand, kissing it with an unhurried thoroughness that seemed to stop time. His lips scorched where they lingered, spreading a fire that consumed her body and mind. Had she the strength, she would have snatched her hand from his grasp to save herself from immolation. Other men had danced with her, held her hand, kissed it. They had never made her feel thus.

In a daze, she watched Geoffrey wrench his lips from her hand and stand, eyes widened as if amazed. His brows furrowed a moment then he spoke to the king. “May I ask, Your Majesty, when the banns will be read? I am sorely pressed to begin my repentance.”

BUY LINKS:
Amazon

FREE ON THE FOLLOWING SITES:
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Medieval Monday ~ Silverhawk by Barbara Bettis

Welcome to Medieval Monday! During the next several months, I will be featuring different Medieval authors and their stories. Each month there will be a specific theme. This month’s theme is, “First Encounter with the Hero and Heroine.”

Barbara Bettis is here today with an excerpt from her book, Silverhawk.

Blurb:

He’s everything a proper lady should never want; she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have.

Sir Giles has come to England to kill his father, who seduced and betrayed his mother. First, however, he’ll seek sweet revenge—kidnap the old lord’s new betrothed. But when Giles uncovers a plot against King Richard, he faces a dilemma: take the lady or track the traitors. What’s a good mercenary to do? Both, of course.

Lady Emelin has had enough. Abandoned in a convent by her brother, she finally has a chance for home and family. Yet now she’s been abducted. Her kidnapper may be the image of her dream knight, but she won’t allow him to spoil this betrothal. Her only solution: escape. Rescuing the intrepid lady—while hunting traitors—is a challenge Giles couldn’t anticipate.  But the greatest challenge to Giles and Emelin is the fire blazing between them. For he’s everything a proper lady should never want, and she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have.

Excerpt:

(Sir Giles has been rescued from outlaws by Lady Emelin’s escort of soldiers and she’s insisted that she take the unconscious knight to her betrothed’s castle for treatment.)

Swollen eyelids, a puffy cheek, and bloody scrapes couldn’t hide the knight’s handsome features. Waves of midnight hair fell across his wide forehead to brush one side of his square, stubble-darkened jaw. Grit clustered on the high bridge of his nose. What shame such a strong, rugged man should be cut down. Her pulse fluttered, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Ashamed of such reaction, she squeezed shut her eyes.

Would Stephen have been so handsome, had he lived through the crusade? She hardly recalled what her youthful first betrothed looked like when he left, a hopeful squire at nineteen, to follow his foster father on King Richard’s journey. If only he’d returned from Outremer, she’d be wed now, with the family she craved.

She sighed, reached for her patient’s cheek—and found herself staring into the palest gray eyes she had ever seen. His mouth moved, and she leaned forward.

“What is it?” she murmured.

“Before…I…die…” came the hoarse whisper.

“Yes? What would you like before you die?” If it were in her power, she would provide the poor man with his wish. Drink? Food?

A strong hand gripped the back of her head, pulled her forward. That close, she saw his eyes weren’t flat gray, but clear, layered like a winter pond winking with ice. They were silver.

“To…kiss…a nun,” came the outrageous reply before his lips met hers.

The brush of his warm mouth robbed her breath for an instant. Then she snapped back with a gasp. And, with in-born reflex, slapped him. His head jerked, his eyes closed, and he lay motionless.

“Oh, Sweet Mary,” Emelin whispered, “I’ve killed him.” Leaning close, she saw his narrow, beautifully molded lips relax. His mouth curved at the corner.

At least he died with a smile on his face.

Buy Link:

Amazon:  http://amzn.to/1WTz3KJ

Medieval Monday ~ Dragon Knight's Axe by Mary Morgan

This is the same Medieval Monday that features some of the best romance out there but now it’s with a twist. Each week a different author will be featured here with a “themed excerpt.” This month, all the excerpts will be about the hero and heroine’s first encounter. Today’s post is from Dragon Knight’s Axe by Mary Morgan. This is a great excerpt. Enjoy!

 Excerpt:

The closer he came, the more Fiona began to tremble. His face bore a deep crescent scar from his left eyebrow down below his cheek. This giant was a demon, and some actually crossed themselves as he passed them.

When he reached the platform, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the two men by her side. They instantly stepped away. As with everyone else, he was no different. He looked her up and down, though when he gazed into her eyes for a moment, Fiona saw confusion.

The demon spoke. “How much do ye want, Robert?”

“Ye cannot have her.” He spit onto the ground in front of the man.

The monster’s voice remained deadly calm. “And why would that be?”

“Ye have nothing to offer.”

Fiona saw the shift of color in the demon’s green eyes. It was enough for the man called Robert to back away.

“I dinnae want any trouble.”

The giant leaned his head down. “Would ye take these?” He pulled out a small pouch and opened it. Pulling out several stones, he held them aloft. “Amber from the Northmen’s homeland.”

Robert’s eyes went wide, but then he crossed his arms. “I will take the lot and a barrel of your whisky.”

The man arched a brow. “How do ye ken I have whisky?”

“Do ye take me for a fool, MacKay?”

“Nae, Robert, but only foolish if ye do not take my offer of ten stones and one barrel.”

The moments stretched out between the two men, and Fiona’s heart pounded in her chest. She was being traded for amber stones and a damn barrel of whisky.

Blurb:

Battled scarred, Dragon Knight, Alastair MacKay, has fled to the seas to separate himself from his powers that are connected to the land. Yet, when he rescues a woman from a slave trader in Ireland, he steps back inadvertently into a world filled with magic—taking on the role of protector and leading him on a journey to confront his greatest fears.

Research assistant, Fiona O’Quinlan loves translating ancient artifacts at Trinity College. When she falls asleep on an archeological dig, she awakens in another time. She soon discovers a Dragon Knight’s relic has been entrusted into her care. Determined to return the artifact to the Great Glen, Fiona is unprepared for the danger ahead—losing her heart and soul to Alastair “Beast” MacKay.

Will their love be strong enough to soothe the beast and heal the man? Or will Death swing its axe, leaving them lost for all eternity?

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Medieval Monday ~ The Irish Warrior by Ashley York

This is the same Medieval Monday that features some of the best romance out there but now it’s with a twist. Each week a different author will be featured here with a “themed excerpt.” This month, all the excerpts will be about the hero and heroine’s first encounter. Today’s quest is Ashley York. You’re going to love this excerpt. Enjoy!

Excerpt

Sean took a few steps into the woods, allowing his eyes to adjust. The shadowed figure of the mounted animal became discernible. It whinnied and backed further into the darkness.

“Hold!” Sean said. He struggled not to let his anger be heard. “Ye’ve bested me. Steal the horse but I’m for the coast. I need my things.”

“’Tis not stealing it if it’s mine.”

Not a woman’s voice. A young lad then.

“I paid for the use of it, son.”

“I’m not yer son.” The voice broke, confirming Sean’s suspicions.

“Nae. Ye’re not but I have quite a walk ahead of me. May I at least collect my belongings?”

A loud thud accompanied the bag that dropped at his feet. Sean stared at the sack. Arrogant little shite. The few items he’d collected to bring home were no doubt in pieces now. Anger simmered. He glanced toward the rider.

“My thanks. And will ye toss the weapons at me as well?”

“They’re mine now… the price for the use of my horse.”

Sean forced himself to appear calm. “I told ye I paid for the use.”

“But it wasn’t paid to me.”

Sean moved in closer but with every step, the rider retreated. If he could get his hands on him, Sean would teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon be forgetting. By his size, the boy looked to be about ten.

“But I did pay for its use. An honest agreement between men. I had nae way of knowing it had been stolen. I had plans to return it.” Despite the blood racing through him at being outsmarted by some unknown, he shifted his tactics. He used his ever-so-amicable tone of voice but would not be letting the horse—or rider—get away. “When was the horse stolen from ye?”

The lad didn’t respond at first but the beast shifted, indicating uneasiness. “It was taken without my permission.”

Sean gave a small smile, moving closer as he spoke. “That’s what I said.”

“Nae ye asked when it was stolen from me.”

“Is there a difference?”

The lad tipped his head back as if looking heavenward in exasperation. Taking his eyes off Sean proved to be his mistake. With three long strides Sean closed in, yanked at the reins, and ripped them from the rider’s loose grip. Stepping clear, he waited while the courser jerked against the rope now held firmly in his grip. The rider, struggling to keep his seat, tossed about with the rough motion.

“Arghhh.”

Definitely a young lad. Not even a curse uttered from the unexpected change of events.

“Damn it.”

Sean smiled and stepped in to put his arm around the horse’s snout to settle it down. He spoke in a quiet, calming voice. “Easy now, Roana.”

“Roana! What kind of name is that?” The lad threw his leg over the far side of its body in preparation for his escape.

The courser was not very tall. Sean wondered why he didn’t just jump off.

“The one I gave it! A handsome beast deserves a handsome name.”

He grabbed at the lad’s skinny arm, hauling him across the saddle, flat on his belly, facing him.

Sean offered a contented smile. “Did ye have somewhere to go?”

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Blurb: Outcast and alone, Thomasina MacDonell is hell bent on finding her brother, the only person who can thwart their father's latest scheme to offer her as payment for his gambling debts. Disguised as a lad, she defiantly sets off on foot to locate him—never expecting to find a handsome, Irish warrior riding her beloved horse. The warrior's offer of help and unsolicited advice on how to be manlier sparks an intimate desire to reveal her more feminine side.

Rejected by the love of his life, Sean O'Cisoghe wants simply to return home and heal his broken heart. When a young "lad" steals the horse out from under him, he discerns the spirited woman may be in way over her head against her ruthless father. Finding her brother while keeping her would-be betrothed at bay, Sean must confront the fact that Thomasina has stolen his heart. Will Norman soldiers out for his blood and shifting clan alliances cut short their growing passion?

Medieval Monday with Sandra Jones

What is Medieval Monday? Fall in love with new stories and find new authors. Each Monday for the next 12 weeks another author will share the cover and excerpt from their story. Today it’s Sandra Jones’ turn.

His Captive Princess by Sandra Jones

Earned respect is sweet…but deserved revenge is sweeter.

Warren de Tracy was assured the Welsh village of Dinefwr would be an easy conquest, as would the widow of its fallen prince. Wedding her will appease the locals and win the respect of his liege, the usurper King Stephen.

Instead, Warren is ambushed, taken prisoner by a hooded Welshwoman with skin that glows like moonlight. If he must die at her hands, at least his honorable death will silence the whispers of disloyalty hanging over his name.

Princess Eleri has never seen a knight as stoic—and as eager to die—as Warren. She’d love to oblige the bastard, but something in his ocean-blue eyes stays her hand. Plus, suspicion nags at her, for the arrows that wounded him and killed his men are Norman, not Welsh.

A ghostly prophecy portends danger that thrusts the enemies closer together, where hate explodes into passion that won’t allow Eleri to surrender Warren to her vengeful clan. But returning him to his king breaks more than it mends…and for Warren, retaliation will be sweet, indeed.

Product Warnings

Contains a Norman warrior with a thirst for justice, a Welsh rebel princess with second sight and a steady bow hand, magical prophecies, and a plot of royal proportions.

Exceept:

“‘Your Highness’?” Warren jerked in astonishment, pulling against his bonds. The ropes chafed his raw skin, sending a fresh wave of pain down his arms. “You’re of royal blood?”

She leaned over him, reaching for his bonds. “Hush! In addition to your arrow wound, I trow your tongue has healed as well these past days. It would behoove you to use it less and just be grateful you’re alive.”

Her breasts hovered inches above his face. In fact, if he lifted his head, he could bury his face between them. What would she do, this spirited wench, if he chose to do so? He would’ve enjoyed finding out if circumstances had been different. “I’d rather be dead than be a prisoner. But first...I’ll kiss your feet if you’d scratch my nose.”

She made a choking noise in her throat that almost sounded like amusement.

He felt a tug at his ropes and the friction of a knife. By the saints, she was freeing him. He couldn’t allow it.

Air stung his raw skin as soon as one of his wrists came loose. With his one arm still useless in its restraints, he shot out his free hand and clutched her forearm. Using all his strength, he turned her over beneath him, wedging her between his torso and the bed. Nose to nose, he could make out her eyes gone wide with shock in the darkness. “No!” he growled. “Do not let me leave here alive.”

Suddenly, her warrior was upon him and his knife back against Warren’s throat. “Get off the princess, you cur!”

The woman’s blade touched his chest plate. She could dispatch him with ease. Her arms were strong and lean. Her body was far from frail, and he recalled her skillful defeat of his conroi. She twisted beneath his pelvis defensively, and the grinding of her soft mound awoke his sex. Shame heated his cheeks at his sudden need and dark desires. This one time, he would allow himself to speak his mind. “If you release me, Princess, I’ll go to Kidwelly and inform my commanders what has befallen my five men at the hands of you and your people. The king will strike at the subjects of Cantref Mawr with vengeance such as you’ve never known.”

Her expression shifted from stark panic to slow derision as her saucy lips curved up at one corner. “You think I don’t know what you’re capable of?” Her eyes flashed downward meaningfully, and he knew she’d noted the turn of his wicked thoughts. “You want to have your way with me. To tear my clothing from my body and part my legs. But you know nothing of my people, Norman. You haven’t even bothered to learn the language—” she broke off, slurring in Welsh at her vassal.

The burly guard grabbed Warren’s bandaged shoulder, twisting it back until bile climbed in his throat. “Umpff!” While he convulsed in pain, the woman slipped loose and turned him on his back, pinning his groin beneath two very sharp knees. He hissed through his teeth, “Par les saints!”

If he’d been successful in his mission, this devil-wench would’ve been his bride?

“You are my prisoner, knight.” She planted the flat of her hand against his neck, leaving no doubt of her desire for domination as her angry pulse drummed against his skin. “I am the Princess of Deheubarth, widow of Prince Owain ap Daffyd, murdered by your Norman peers. It will be my pleasure keeping you alive. We’re taking you to those who will do with you what they will. I care not. Until then, you are my dog. My captive. My slave. And you will obey!”

Buy Links:

(Samhain store) https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5407/his-captive-princess

(Amazon) http://www.amazon.com/His-Captive-Princess-Sandra-Jones-ebook/dp/B00TLIGB14/

(Barnes & Noble) http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/his-captive-princess-sandra-jones/1121228851?ean=9781619224452

(All Romance) https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hiscaptiveprincess-1748538-161.html