Welcome back to Medieval Monday! This is week eleven of
the new round of authors, snippets, and fun. Our fall theme is Nature. We’re
doing things a bit differently this go-round. We are all posting out snippets on
out own blogs. Each week, we will be posting links on the Medieval Romance Lovers
Facebook page. You can use the hashtag #medmonfall20 to find
all the posts.
I am so excited about this fall’s posts. My new medieval
romance, Donald, the third and final book in the Sons of Sagamore series which
is part of The Pirates of Britannia Connected World releases October 8th.
So sit back and enjoy the snippets. I’ll be posting the buy link as soon as it
is available!
Donald:
Sons of Sagamore
The Pirates of Britannia Connected World
He surrendered his heart
and would give his life for her to succeed.
Andrea Ricard, an inquisitive scholar
of antiquities travels with her uncle to help him with his trade business. When
she finds her mother’s family name on a piece of a map associated with the
location of a rare relic, she is compelled to find it. Nothing will get in her
way to unearth its secrets.
Donald MacDougall Tyler Eden has
enjoyed carefree life, but over the last year he has found satisfaction working
with his brother Hugh, who has a successful investment business. He has forged
a close relationship with one of their business partners, Andrea’s uncle. On a
visit to Hugh, Donald meets Andrea and is smitten. When Andrea finds that an
antique in Hugh’s collection contains another piece to her mysterious map she
is more determined than ever to find the relic. Donald is drawn into her
adventure and volunteers to accompany her on her quest.
Andrea has only told Donald
half-truths for fear he would not join her. The relic is surrounded by mystery
and prophecy. A disgraced soldier with hopes of repairing his relationship with
the king has found out about the relic and is just as determined as Andrea to
secure it for himself.
Andrea and Donald’s belief in what’s
right as well as each other will be tested on a journey filled with adventure
and hardships as they race across the vineyards of the Champagne region in
France, up the east coast of England to an ancient church in Bamburgh.
Can Andrea and
her MacDougall warrior resolve the mystery, face the prophecy,
vanquish the villain… and find their happily ever after.
Buy Link: http://bit.ly/Donald-SonsofSagamore
Full Snippet
Andrea
moved, creating a distraction, but Rufus stopped her with the point of his
sword.
“Bring
them both here. This is a good place for her to watch him die,” Davenport said.
Donald
had to keep his focus. The vicar and Andrea’s lives depended on him. If he had
to fight with his hands, so be it.
As
Rufus moved the vicar and Andrea toward Davenport, the vicar grabbed the
chalice from the top of the tomb and threw the tainted water at Rufus.
The
man dropped his sword and tried to wipe the water from his face.
As
Donald placed his hand on the ground to get to his feet, his hand found a metal
hilt. He pulled the sword from the debris and stood.
With
each breath, he set his resolve. This was his final battle. Andrea’s life was
the prize. By god’s toes, let the ancient warriors of his clan give him the
strength to succeed.
The
MacDougall warrior raised his sword up high. “Victory or death!” He yelled the
ancient battle cry. It echoed through the cavern.
The
battle cry set the berserker free. The warrior tested the weight of the ancient
sword as he stalked his prey and prepared to fight.
Davenport
came at him. Donald didn’t move. With a swipe of his sword he knocked the
weapon away nicking the blade badly. The warrior kept advancing. He stared into
Davenport’s eyes and saw his confidence begin to crumble.
Stroke
after stroke the warrior attacked driving his enemy back. His sword rang loud
promising justice. They battled to the opening of the cave until the villain
ran out of ground.
His
feet began to slip on the loose rocks at the rim of the entrance. Stones
clattered over the side landing against the boulders that were strewn on the
beach.
The
berserker’s blade flashed as he brought over his head and sang when he brought
it down. He kept advancing sending his opponent to the very edge. One foot
slipped on the loose pebbles and he lost his balance.
The
warrior reached out to grab him, but the man pulled his hand away. His arms
wind milled as he fell backward.
It
seemed as if time slowed. For a heartbeat, Donald stared at Davenport’s sneer
and then he was gone.
The
warrior stood at the edge of the cliff and looked down at the mangled body
forty feet below. When he turned to the others, it was Donald who stood before
the vicar and Andrea.
*
* *
Andrea
stood at his side. They moved away and went to the vicar.
“May
god forgive me. Rufus is dead. At least I was able to hear his last
confession.” The solemn vicar stood and moved away from the man.
Andrea
found the chalice laying on the floor and picked it up.
“Where
are you taking that?” Donald asked.
“No
one should have this,” she said. “We must send it back where it came from. It’s
the only way to destroy it.”
They
went behind the boulder to the small alter. Andrea replaced the chalice in the
niche. Donald took the stone he had removed and set it back in place. The water
that had previously been a trickle began to flow faster over the rocks.
Their
task done, they turned to leave. The room rumbled and shifted. The stone Donald
set fell backwards onto the chalice shattering it into a thousand pieces. All
that was left in the center of the niche was the chalice’s red stone.
“Quick.”
Donald grabbed the vicar and pushed Andrea ahead of him. As they reached the
narrow doorway, they heard a loud scraping sound. Donald pushed Andrea and the
vicar out of the room.
He
swung around in time to see the niche’s keystone give way. Its point crushed
the red the stone and sent a burst of red dust into the air.
Again,
the ground shook beneath their feet.
“Donald,”
she screamed.
“Leave.”
Donald yelled above the din his back to them.
“Not
without you.” Andrea pulled him around.
He
shook off her hand. He didn’t need to see the horror in her eyes when she saw
he was covered in the poisonous red dust.
“Don’t
touch me. The sword will fail. I was doomed from the start. Go,” Donald
insisted.
“No.
There’s no time to explain now. We must get you to the church.” The vicar
grabbed his arm an pulled him along.
The
rock cavern gave a shutter as the rocks fell on the tombs sending chips
everywhere.
Donald
still hesitated.
The
vicar spoke in a commanding voice. “The only way Andrea will leave is with you.
Will I be saying a funeral mass for you both?”
The
three hurried down the path through the maze of falling rocks, jumping over
breaches in the path until they came to the narrow ledge. Before they could get
across a barrage of stones rained down. When the dust settled, most of the
ledge was gone.
Donald
started to cross. He found hand and foot holds. Rocks already loosened trickled
down striking his back. He pressed himself against the face of the cliff. When
the rock fall subsided, he made his way to the other side.
“You’re
next,” the vicar said to Andrea, and helped her to the edge.
“It’s
ten steps. Put your hands and feet where I did,” Donald called over the
rumbling. He leaned over the side. His arm stretched as far as he could reach.
“Once
we get to the other side it is easy going. You mustn’t let him stop. We must
get him to the church,” the vicar said and helped Andrea set her foot and find
the first hand hold.
She
pressed against the cliff face, determined to reach the other side. Slowly she
made her way across.
Over
the roar of the wind and rumble of the stones, she heard Donald’s voice
directing her hands and feet. She kept her face against the rock. Small showers
of stones peppered the air and grazed her back.
“Rea,
give me your hand,” Donald’s voice crooned.
She
looked at his outstretched arm and grasped his. He pulled her into his arms.
But their embrace was short-lived. He needed to get the injured vicar to
safety.
The
vicar started out.
“He’s
in great pain from his wound. See how he winces when he stretches for the hand
holds,” Andrea said. “Reach to your left, just a bit higher,” she called.
The
vicar closed his eyes, his face was ashen.
“We
have to hurry and get him across. The effort will quickly sap his strength,”
Donald said.
They
looked on as the vicar had difficulty placing his foot squarely on the hold.
His fingertips slid on the stone. He had gone eight steps but the next one gave
way. He clutched at the rocks, but his fingers wouldn’t work. His dangling foot
sought another perch.
“Joseph,
grab the stone.” Donald commanded calmly.
He grabbed
it but couldn’t hold on much longer. Donald was close to the edge. As the vicar
began to slip from the rock, Donald reached out and grabbed his arm. Clasping
his free hand over his other, he hoisted the vicar to safety.
They
clutched at each other, only for a moment.
“We
need to get to the church,” the vicar said.
They
hurried the rest of the way to the top of the cliff. Donald half carried the
vicar as they raced to the church.
Once
inside, the vicar pushed Donald against the door, turned and pulled the holy
water basin from its bracket and ordered him to drink it.
Andrea
and Donald stared at him in disbelief.
“Drink,”
the vicar commanded.
What
did it matter? He was a doomed man. If the vicar thought the holy water would
save him, so be it. Donald took the beautiful bronze etched cup, put it to his
lips, and drank. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Donald almost laughed.
“I
would much rather my last drink be a good ale.”
Buy Link: Amazon
