Monday, April 30, 2018

Medieval Monday Blog Hop with Ruth A. Casie

Welcome to the final day of our blog hop. I really loved writing this scene. I can hear Lisbeth’s foot falls as she rushes through the forest. I can feel her anxiety trying to find Alex. What does she do when he asks her to wait? Here is the full scene. I hope you enjoy it.
Excerpt from The Guardian’s Witch
The berries Lisbeth had gathered tumbled forgotten from her hands. A tremor touched her lips while the vision slammed behind her eyes. She didn’t doubt the vision’s truth. Sometimes a bright light, warm and comforting, accompanied the vision; other times the wind howled, cold and disturbing. Today, panic clearly filled the air.
She spun around trying to pinpoint a direction and abruptly stopped. Facing south, she licked her lips nervously and tasted the sweetness of fresh water. A rushing sound burst in her ears. The river. Her head snapped east toward the river path and she ran. As she careened down the narrow trail, the outstretched branches tugged at her dress, pulled off her shawl and clawed at her face and arms. She took no notice. The cadence of her footfalls beat out a mantra, not him, not him, not him. She rushed on faster, mumbling enchanted words under her breath.
She exploded out of the forest and stood on the riverbank as the bridge gave way, sending the horse and rider plunging into the angry current. Swiftly the horse surfaced and headed for shore with an empty saddle. She stood on the bank, still mumbling as she scanned the river until she glimpsed a clear red aura shining deep in its middle. Her relief was momentary when the blackness began to creep in. There wasn’t much time.
Quickly she pulled off her heavy dress and, wearing only her chemise, dove into the river. Save him was her only thought. Down she plunged kicking hard against the current. The usually clear water, now choked with mud, churned with debris. She screamed the words in her head and made her demands. In response, the current slowed and as the mud began to settle, a lifeless hand beckoned to her from below.
Desperate to reach him, she kicked hard toward the deep river bottom. She was a strong swimmer and reached him quickly. She pulled on his arm but he didn’t budge. Something pinned him in place. She dropped his hand and pulled herself around him. The murky water made it difficult for her to see what held him. She resorted to running her hand over every inch of his body to locate what kept him captive. Her lungs burned. She needed to surface but she pressed on.
Frantically her hands felt their way along his leg until she found his foot caught in the debris. She shoved the timber away. The exertion cost her precious time and air. With one hand she grabbed his shirt collar and kicked off the bottom. With her free arm she reached for the surface. She didn’t take her eyes off him.
The higher she got, the more the water cleared. The wild current fought to get free of her restraint. She didn’t think. She focused on getting Alex out of the water.
The hand holding Alex’s collar cramped, sending spasms of pain up her arm. She did not let go. The last of her breath spent, her lungs screamed for fresh air. She forced herself not to breathe. She was certain she would break free of the water soon. Alex’s weight pulled at her. She wasn’t making any progress. If she didn’t do something quickly they would be back on the bottom. She glanced up. The light was brighter. She was close now. She held her legs together and undulated like a graceful giant fish. Once again her free arm reached hard and pulled the water out of her way. One last hard kick and she exploded into the air as if propelled from underneath. Alex floated face down next to her.
She gulped for air, exhausted. There was no time to waste. She held on to him as the current pulled them toward the rapids and the steep falls beyond. She turned him onto his back and swam for shore. She dragged the large knight onto the bank where his warhorse stood snorting and stomping. Worn out but thankful, she collapsed next to Alex gasping for air. Her hand was on his chest.
He didn’t stir. She fixed her eyes on his chest but she didn’t see any movement. She scanned his face. A small trickle of water escaped his mouth.
She rolled him on his side and pounded on his back. Nothing. She pounded again. More water trickled out of his mouth. She reached inside his wet shirt. No heartbeat.
She kept the building panic at bay. Think. Calmness overcame her. She rolled him onto his back and knelt above him. She placed her mouth over his and gave him her breath. She’d given her breath before, when the blacksmith’s wife gave birth and the baby didn’t breathe. That day she had tried everything but nothing worked. She wanted to move the baby’s chest, just one breath. In desperation she breathed for the child. It worked then. It had to work now.
She felt the tingle at her lips and a dizzying current raced through her. She closed her eyes and gave him another breath. Her hand pressed hard against this chest. She searched for a heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, anything to indicate he lived.
He shuddered with a shallow breath. Reassured, she felt a faint but steady beat and sank back on her heels. She observed the deadly gray pallor on his face retreat. His arms twitched as they came to life. His face contorted in a spasm as he choked to clear his lungs. He pushed himself up coughing out the last of the river sludge and sucked in large quantities of air.
Relief surged through her. She rose, retrieved her dress lying in a pool of sunlight, and quickly slipped it on. She calmed the restless warhorse with her gentle touch and whispered words, When she ventured a glance at the knight, she found herself staring into his compelling gray eyes. His gaze was riveted on her face. A fresh spasm of coughing took him, and she turned to leave.
“Wait.” He struggled to get the word out.
She stopped and took a deep breath.
He shook his head. His eyelids slid closed and he fell onto his back. He fell asleep before his head touched the ground.
She stood next to him, laid the horse’s reins in one hand, and brought his other onto his chest. Satisfied, she silently vanished into the forest before he woke and admonished her for being outside the castle—without an escort. A scurry of leaves, seemingly caught in the warm autumn breeze, covered any signs she had been there.

Back Cover Copy of The Guardian’s Witch
England, 1290
Lord Alex Stelton can't resist a challenge, especially one with a prize like this: protect a castle on the Scottish border for a year, and it's his. Desperate for land of his own, he'll do anything to win the estate—even enter a proxy marriage to Lady Lisbeth Reynolds, the rumored witch who lives there.   
Feared and scorned for her second sight, Lisbeth swore she'd never marry, but she is drawn to the handsome, confident Alex. She sees great love with him but fears what he would think of her gift and her visions of a traitor in their midst.
Despite his own vow never to fall in love, Alex can't get the alluring Lisbeth out of his mind and is driven to protect her when attacks begin on the border. But as her visions of danger intensify, Lisbeth knows it is she who must protect him. Realizing they'll secure their future only by facing the threat together, she must choose between keeping her magic a secret and losing the man she loves. 
Buy Links
iBook:  http://bit.ly/TGWiBook

Congratulations to xxxxx, the winner of the digital copy of The Maxwell Ghost. Please contact me at Ruth@RuthACasie.com so I can arrange to get you your book.

Monday, April 23, 2018

Medieval Monday Blog Hop with Bambi Lynn

Welcome to week 13 of the Medieval Monday Blog Hop. I’m hosting Bambi Lynn on my blog and she is hosting me on her blog. She suffered through the pain and abuse of her wifely duties. Here he stood, back after five years. She’d kill him if she could. Here is her continuing snippet from The Mask of the Highlander.
Excerpt
Perhaps she, too, had forgotten. Had her recollection faded over the years? Had she lived with such fear until now it was little more than a faded memory, its intensity diminished by time? She stood taller, squaring her shoulders and fixing him with a look of disdain that would make most men shuffle their feet and look away in shame.
Blurb
Once she was afraid to touch him. Now she’s afraid to let go.
Forced to marry to avoid war between clans, Kenna Cleary endured three days of her new husband's painful brutality before he rode off to battle the English. In the five years of his absence, she bore him a daughter, increased his holdings, and gained the love and respect of his people. Now he's home. Must she and the clan learn to endure his cruelty once more?
 The Laird of Domhnul has returned from war a changed man—moreso than his wife or clan can possibly know. Now the warrior faces a new battle, one for his wife's heart, and his peoples' trust. He must walk the knife's edge of deception and danger, while proving he is no longer the cruel tyrant they came to know all too well.
 But when his father embroils both them in a deadly plot, can the couple find a way to prevent war between the clans?

Buy Link Amazon  

Monday, April 16, 2018

Medieval Monday Blog How with Mary Morgan

Welcome to week 12 of the Medieval Monday Blog Hop. I’m hosting Mary Morgan on my blog and she is hosting me on her blog. The Druids have come to celebrate the Midwinter with the Dragon Knight and his clan. But the King was supposed to be attend. Why is he absent? Here is her continuing snippet from A Highland Moon Enchantment
Excerpt:
Filling his mug, Muir lifted it high. “I thank ye for sharing the knowledge.” After draining the contents, he placed it on the table. Removing his dirk, he skewered a piece of meat from the boar.
Though the fire blazed hot, a cold tendril of uneasiness slipped within Ailsa at the silence around the table. Muir’s behavior made no sense, and she could see anger in her father’s eyes. Each day, the man attempted to battle the MacKays with words or blades. However, his manner with Desmond was far worse.
Angus waved a hand toward the minstrels, and they picked up their instruments. They filled the hall with a lively tune, breaking the tension at the table. He then took his wife’s hand and led her away to start dancing. Smiling at the two, Ailsa filled her trencher with some of the tempting dishes in front of her.
Follow along next week on Judith Sterling’s blog: https://judithmarshallauthor.com/blog/ and leave a comment for a chance to win a signed copy of A HIGHLAND MOON ENCHANTMENT,

Blurb:
You first meet 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?


Buy Links: AMAZON | BN | KOBO | iBOOKS

Monday, April 9, 2018

Medieval Monday Blog Hop with Barbara Bettis

Welcome to week 11 of the Medieval Monday Blog Hop. Today I’m hosting Barbara Bettis on my blog and she is hosting me on her blog. Knights down holes and archers scheduled to have their fingers cut off and Kate is their only hope. Can she save them both? Here is her continuing snippet from The Lady of the Forest.
Excerpt
(Kate’s idea sounded chancy , and she hated to think what could happen if it failed. Worse, it might be too effective) and bring unnecessary hardship to innocent folks.
Not far from the bailey wall lay two large downed trees, left to age for fuel, along with other branches and deadwood. Each piece would be trimmed and stacked nearer the castle for use during the coming winter. Until then, all that potential lay waiting. Fire.
Sir Hubert had worried about fire more than attack from an armed force. The old wooden castle presented a particular risk. Once a spark got hold, the whole thing would be a gigantic bonfire. She’d hate that to happen. Not that she cared about Sir Mortimer. Sir Mort, villagers called him behind his back. But she did care about the people. She owed them her duty.
Follow along next week at www.lanemcfarland.com/. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance at an ebook of your choice.
Blurb
When her elderly husband dies, Lady Katherine fakes her own death and disappears into the forest with others escaping the brutish new lord. Determined to protect her people, she knocks the wrong man senseless. But Lord Henry isn’t an enemy, he’s the brother of her childhood friend. Although his tender confidence tempts her, she’s bound by duty.
Henry of Chauvere has found the one lady he wants for his own, never mind she’s tied him hand and foot. When he learns the king has ordered her to wed Stonehill’s ruthless new master, he insists Kate seek haven with his sister. But she won’t desert her friends. Henry vows to solve her problem, provided he catches a traitor before the threat from Kate’s past catches her.

When a daring rescue compels Henry and Kate to join forces, their attraction grows into love. If only duty didn’t drive them apart.
Buy Links

Monday, April 2, 2018

Medieval Monday Blog Hop with Cathy and DD MacRae

Welcome to week 10 of the Medieval Monday Blog Hop. Today I’m hosting Cathy and DD MacRae on my blog and she is hosting me on her blog. A wedding night with all its positioning, not necessarily the way you think. What game will Caelen and Arbela play? Here is her continuing snippet from The Highlander’s Crusader Bride
Excerpt
Arbela arched a brow. “What do ye ask of me? Allow ye into my bed this night and never think on it again? Do ye chafe against our agreement so soon?”
Her words slammed into him, rejection an emotion he was all too familiar with. “I dinnae enter this marriage to add discord in the form of a nagging wife,” he growled. “Keep yer bloody virtue. I have nae need for it.”
Join me next week on Judith Sterling’s blog https://judithmarshallauthor.com/blog/  for the next excerpt from The Highlander’s Crusader Bride!
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.