Showing posts with label Medieval Monday Spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Medieval Monday Spring. Show all posts

June 15, 2015

Guest Promo (XCV) Medieval Monday

                                                  


I am thrilled to host in this penultimate stage of Medieval Monday Tour, a lovely author coming straight from California-
                                                Mary Morgan and her

                         DRAGON KNIGHT’S MEDALLION 

Blurb:

To right a wrong, two souls are brought together only to shatter when they are torn apart by the deeds of an evil druid.


Dragon Knight, Stephen MacKay’s powers are altered after the death of his sister. Now he is plagued with visions that threaten to destroy his soul. When Aileen Kerrigan falls through a time tunnel, he vows to keep her safe, despite the fact the beautiful but head-strong half-blooded fae could be the death of him.

When Aileen finds out her dad is a Fenian Warrior, she flees to a nearby ruin. Armed with the medallion her mother gave her, and a matching one belonging to a long dead knight, she is flung into the past and finds a handsome but surly warrior who is on a quest. Now it seems her future could be entwined with his, if she doesn’t kill him first.
 

Excerpt:
Stephen was gathering some food, which Betha had prepared for him understanding he would be away all night. She and Donal had pleaded with him to join in the feasting, but he waved them off rather rudely. He wanted no part of the festivities.



Almost colliding with a couple, he swore softly. Placing the food across Grian, he shifted hesitantly. It was then he spotted...her.



His hand froze on the leather sack. Sweet Mother! What was she doing? And dressed like that? She was a Goddess of the flame. He watched as she was swung up into the air by none other than Brian. Then he dared to slide her down against him.



Dark fury burst somewhere deep inside Stephen. “I’m going to kill him,” he rasped out.



The blood roared in his head, as he stormed across the open field, never hearing those who greeted him in passing—one hand held firm against his sword.



Stephen waited as any warrior would. Let the enemy show himself, he thought.



When their dancing brought them nearer to him, he darted in front blocking their path.



They never saw him coming.

Aileen’s back slammed into his chest, and his arms grasped her instantly in a firm grip. “Hey, ouch!” She tried to move, but he held her solid against his body.



Brian skidded to a halt. “Greetings, Sir Stephen.”



He went to grab for Aileen’s hand, when Stephen let out a growl of warning.



“What is your problem? Did you just growl?” demanded Aileen. She tried to pry herself loose, but he continued to hold her firm.



“Mine,” he snarled.



Instantly, Brian’s face went white.



“Thank ye for the dance, Lady Aileen,” Brian clipped out. Giving Stephen a curt nod, he stormed away.



“Bloody. God. Damn. Hell,” Aileen snapped.



Stephen released her, only spinning her around to face him. Something primal within him tore loose. He tried to reason with himself that this was insanity, though his mind and body would not yield. His gaze dropped to those lips—lips he had fantasized about for weeks.



Aileen,” he choked out before his mouth took hers in a plundering kiss. His lips moved over hers devouring their softness. The kiss became urgent, pleading in its need. His tongue sought hers, and the dance of desire seared their bodies. Raw passion took over his anger, and she opened fully, drawing him against her body. She took her hands and wrapped them around his head, threading her fingers in his locks and pulling him in deeper. Never in all of his life had he felt so right in someone’s arms.



When he broke from the kiss, his breathing was labored. Her eyes were dark with desire for him, and he shook with such need, it frightened him.



“By the hounds,” he uttered hoarsely. In one swift move, he picked her up. Carrying her to his horse, he ignored the hoots, and remarks coming from the crowd. Placing her on Grian, he swung around in back, taking off through a large group of oak trees with only one clear thought in mind.


Buy Links:
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June 8, 2015

Guest Promo (XCIII) Medieval Monday Spring



Cathy MacRae is today's guest in Medieval Monday Tour. She brings to our attention her latest release:
                                             

The Highlander’s Outlaw Bride



Blurb:
Thrust into the role of laird upon his father's unexpected death, Connor MacLaurey returns home to find his cousin has usurped his lands and title. Furthermore, his betrothed--a lass he barely knows and certainly did not agree to marry--is hunted by the sheriff, accused of stealing cattle. His plan is to petition the king for clemency for the foolish chit, break the betrothal, and take his castle back from his treacherous cousin. Marriage is not in his plans.

Brianna Douglas has no desire for marriage. Widowed young, berated daily for failing to give her first husband a child, and sent home in subsequent disgrace, she devotes her life to holding her family's land for her young brother as their sotted father drowns his sorrow in whisky over her mother's death. Raiders have hit her clan hard, and to save them, she finds herself betrothed to Laird MacLaurey's absent son to seal a pact of protection with the MacLaurey clan.

Forced into a marriage neither wants, it will take a king's edict and sacrifice from both to discover what love means. But can they accept their losses and learn from their mistakes before Brianna marries another?
Excerpt:
Her step quickened and she fled the room to the stairway leading to her chamber. An iron grip on her arm yanked her to a stop and she whirled to face him, his expression black with fury.

“Let go of me!” she hissed angrily.

Conn released her arm, but did not move away. “What do ye think ye are about? Are ye dead set on being hanged?”

“The king pardoned me.”

“Aye, for reiving. Disobedience to the king is treason and will also get ye hanged.”

Brianna eyed him narrowly, unable to quell her toe as it tapped the stone floor impatiently. “I dinnae want to marry.”

“Well, there will be none to wed ye from the gallows.” He loomed over her, his expression darker still. “And I could have refused ye for yer lack of respect.”

“Lack of respect? I said naught that is not on any other’s tongue, m’laird.”

“Ye know naught of me or my past year in France.”

“Enough to know I dinnae want to be shackled to a skirt-chaser like yerself. I dinnae want such disrespect in my marriage, either!”

Conn exhaled a long breath. “Why are ye so against this marriage?”

“Are ye daft? What is there to recommend it?”

“The reivers—“

“Have stripped my clan of their wealth.”

“Yer dowry is of no importance to me. However, I do find myself in need of an heir.”

Furious, Brianna tossed her head. “Ye would do better to find a woman ye know will give ye one. I have no desire to be that woman.”

“Is that so?” The soft tone of his voice did not match the fire she saw in his eyes. She shook off the frisson of longing before it woke the passion his voice ignited in her, and did not flinch as she spoke the lie.

“Aye.”