Happy Medieval
Monday! It’s cold here on the northeast coast, snow and freezing temperatures.
Ah, but a good story and a hot cup of tea (or a glass of wine) can take the
edge off the weather. Today I’m hosting Mary Morgan. Here is an excerpt from
her story, A Magical Highland Solstice. I hope you enjoy it.
Excerpt:
Cormac’s
stomach protested fiercely as he descended the stairs. He had eaten little on
his journey with Eve—happily content to watch her munch on an apple, or nibble
on bread and cheese. She chatted between bites, her hands flying about to match
her liveliness. When she complained he had not eaten anything, he relented. He
watched in fascination as she wedged cheese and apple slices between the two
pieces of bread she tore off for him. It was the most glorious meal he had ever
eaten. However, his heart almost stopped beating when she nearly cut her finger
with his sgian dubh.
As he attempted
to snatch the blade from her hand, she smacked him away, informing him she knew
how to handle a knife.
He chuckled at
the memory and nearly collided with the golden-haired beauty coming toward him.
“Yikes! I’m
sorry, Cormac.” She grabbed his arm, trying to steady the trencher with her
other hand.
He lifted the
item from her hand as it was about to tumble free. “My pardons. My thoughts
were elsewhere.” Inhaling the aroma, he asked, “Wild boar with mushrooms and
onions?”
“You have
guessed correctly, Laird Cormac.”
He arched a
brow. “We are feasting grandly with only a few days before the Yule?”
Eve glanced
over his shoulder and behind her before stepping close, as if she was about to
pass along some great secret. “They’re experimenting with new mushrooms and
herbs from Cathal. I heard it on good authority that a certain laird must
approve the dish.” She gave him a wink.
Cormac
inspected the dish and then lifted his finger.
“You wouldn’t
dare,” she protested, smacking his hand away.
Lifting the
trencher high over his head, he replied, “Remember, I am the laird, aye?”
Eve fisted her
hands on her hips and glared at him. “And because you are the leader of
the clan, you must show some respect.”
His gaze raked
over her face and settled on her lips. “I will concede defeat, but only if ye
grant me a kiss.”
Her cheeks
flushed as she looked around the corridor. “Here?”
“Aye.” As
Cormac stepped closer, Eve moved backward.
“What
if…someone sees us?”
Cormac’s smiled
turned predatory. “All I asked for was a kiss, nae to plunder your body.”
When her back
hit the wall, she parted her lips. “One kiss only?”
He arched a
brow, understanding her meaning. “I beg for only one. Yet, later, I shall
demand many more.”
“Then take your kiss, my laird,” she
whispered.
Slowly, Cormac
lowered his mouth to hers, and a moan of pleasure slipped through her lips.
Powerful, hungry desire spiraled through him as her tongue invaded him,
seeking, stroking. He growled, taking all she had to offer. When one of her
hands wrapped around his neck, he deepened the kiss. He was lost in her touch,
her lips, and Cormac burned for more.
Finally
breaking free, Cormac found he was the one trembling.
“Is your arm
getting tired?” she asked, breathing heavily as her hand slipped across his
shoulder.
“Nae.”
She gave him a
gentle push back and stepped away from his embrace. “Good. I’ll relieve you of
the trencher, though I’ll make sure to place it near you.”
Obliging,
Cormac handed her the trencher of food. As he strolled away, he said, “Ye may
inform Moira and the others I approve of the meat.”
Eve glanced
over her shoulder at him. “Now why would I lie? You haven’t tasted the food?”
“Och, but I
have, fair Eve. From your lips.”
“You’re
incorrigible.”
Cormac roared
with laughter. “I shall leave it to ye to help me make amends for my bad
habits, Lady Eve.”
She snorted and
walked into the Great Hall.
“By the
hounds…what have ye done to me, sweet lass?”
Back Cover Copy:
Laird Cormac Murray has
witnessed how love destroyed his own father after the death of his mother, and
he vows to never take a wife. Yet, when he comes upon a bewildered lass
traveling alone, he finds his heart will no longer listen to his mind. In the
end, Cormac risks everything to claim the love of a woman not of his time.
Eve Brannigan loves helping others and baking. After
winning a contest, she is stunned to learn that the Clan Murray has requested
her assistance to cater to their guests during the holiday season. When a lost
path in Scotland leads her to a handsome but gruff Highlander, Eve fights the
temptation to allow love to enter her heart for the first time.
Can the Fae and the magic of the Yule season bring together
two souls who have forsaken love? Or will tragedies from the past separate the
lovers forever?
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