Deborah Macgillivray's Blog, page 16

One Snowy Knight release!

One Snowy Knight (Dragons of Challon Book 3) by Deborah Macgillivray
Buy at Amazon
Read an Excerpt
Prairie Rose Publications
"Like a bard of old, Macgillivray spins a tale of knights and ladies, myth and magic." “—Romantic Times on A Restless Knight
"A sexy captive/captor romance. . .well done!" —Romantic Times on In Her Bed
eBook July 12th releaseTradesize Library Edition Print July 19th

One Snowy Knight - release dates

cover image by Jon Paul Ferrara
Turning back to the man on the ground, she once again had to wipe the gathering flakes from his face.  She attempted to tug him to a sitting position, thinking she could wrap her mantle around them both, and lend him what little body heat she still had.  When she went to lift him, she realized he still had his broadsword lashed crosswise over his back.  Finding the strap’s buckle on the center of his chest, she released it.
Then, froze as the howl came. 
It was close by.  The man groaned as she urgently rolled his dead weight, enough to drag the sword out from under him, and then dropped the leather sheath as she freed the blade.  Holding the sword in her right hand, she used her left to release the clasp of her mantle.  She would need her arms free to swing the sword.  Keeping her eyes fixed upon the trees, she dragged her woolen cape over the man’s unmoving body.
The deep growl sent a chill to her marrow as the threat of the snowstorm had failed to do.  Low tree limbs rustled and then parted as the set of glowing yellow eyes peeked through the wintry foliage.
Swallowing hard, Skena brought the sword up, preparing to swing, and praying she had strength enough to wield the mighty sword true.

Skena stood trembling, from the cold, aye, but more so from dread.  With the specter of famine looming across the land, she feared wolves would soon be a threat they would face.  Foolishly, she had hoped the menace would not come this early in the season.  Swallowing to moisten the dryness in her mouth, she watched the feral eyes narrow on her, judging how much a threat she presented holding the sword.  Plainly, she posed nary a concern to the creature.  Shoulders lowered, teeth bared, he edged forward, a low growl of intent rising deep in his throat.  The animal scented her fear.  Her weakness only emboldened him. 
Keeping her attention on the black wolf, her eyes quickly scanned to see if there were others coming up behind him or circling around.  Where you found one, usually there lurked a small pack.  Her luck holding, thus far no other pairs of bright eyes appeared; no dark forms skulked through the unmoving undergrowth around the dense pine trees. 
“Oh, please let him be a lone wolf,” she offered her wish to the Auld Ones, before whispering dark words to weave a Charm of Protection, drawing upon what little powers she possessed to sustain her through this ordeal.
 Not a small woman, her Ogilvie blood showed in her tall body and strong bones.  Even so, to hold the heavy broadsword—which took years for a man to master—was tiring.  Her arms vibrated; tremors racked her muscles.  A mix of terror and cold.  The winter storm slowly leached all the strength from her body.  She fought against the quaking, still the sword wobbled in her grip.
Baring his fangs, the wolf crept slowly forward, more daring with each step.  Skena had trouble keeping her vision clear.  Falling flakes and those kicked up by the spindrift continued to stick to her long lashes, adding moisture to the tears she valiantly labored to hold at bay.  It was vital to see the wolf when he leapt, in order to time her swing.  She sucked in a hard breath of terror.  The creature was so much bigger than she expected!

“Off with you, evil foal-chû.  You shall no’ be making a meal of this warrior or me.”  She spoke false courage, hoping the sound of her voice might frighten him into backing off.  Instead, his body coiled, preparing to spring.
So intent upon the wolf, Skena hopped slightly when long arms enclosed about her.  Startled and yet unwilling to take her eyes off the black creature, it was several heartbeats before she comprehended the stranger had awakened and was on his feet.  Suddenly, in his strong embrace she was not so scared.
“Be still, my lady.  I lend my strength to your swing.”  The warrior’s cold hands closed over hers.  He leaned against her back; his powerful muscles caused her shaking to lessen.
Skena had little chance for the details of his nearness to filter through her thoughts, for with a feral snarl the wolf leapt at them.  Frozen in terror, she was unable to move, yet she felt the warrior wielding the sword.  Bared teeth snapped close to her throat.  She cried out and then flinched when the great blade caught the beast in the neck.  Blood splattered across her clothing and her face.  Its heat shocked her.  Numb with the horror, she stared at the animal writhing on the ground.  In the gathering darkness, the pooling blood oddly appeared black upon the pristine snow.  The coppery smell set her stomach to roiling; revolted, she choked back rising nausea.  Her grip slackened about the hilt.  
            The knight’s fingers closed tighter around hers.  “Nay, my lady, never leave a wounded animal alive...sometimes, not even a man.  ’Tis when they are most dangerous.  They risk all for they have naught to lose.” 

 
One Snowy Knight, Dragons of Challon, Book 3

Coming July 19 2018  - Print
July 12th for eBook

eBook and Library Quality Tradesize print

Prairie Rose Publications

#DragonsofChallon #ScottishRomance #MedievalRomance  #Historical Romance

One Snowy Knight - release date July 12th!!

cover image by Jon Paul Ferrara
Turning back to the man on the ground, she once again had to wipe the gathering flakes from his face.  She attempted to tug him to a sitting position, thinking she could wrap her mantle around them both, and lend him what little body heat she still had.  When she went to lift him, she realized he still had his broadsword lashed crosswise over his back.  Finding the strap’s buckle on the center of his chest, she released it.
Then, froze as the howl came. 
It was close by.  The man groaned as she urgently rolled his dead weight, enough to drag the sword out from under him, and then dropped the leather sheath as she freed the blade.  Holding the sword in her right hand, she used her left to release the clasp of her mantle.  She would need her arms free to swing the sword.  Keeping her eyes fixed upon the trees, she dragged her woolen cape over the man’s unmoving body.
The deep growl sent a chill to her marrow as the threat of the snowstorm had failed to do.  Low tree limbs rustled and then parted as the set of glowing yellow eyes peeked through the wintry foliage.
Swallowing hard, Skena brought the sword up, preparing to swing, and praying she had strength enough to wield the mighty sword true.

Skena stood trembling, from the cold, aye, but more so from dread.  With the specter of famine looming across the land, she feared wolves would soon be a threat they would face.  Foolishly, she had hoped the menace would not come this early in the season.  Swallowing to moisten the dryness in her mouth, she watched the feral eyes narrow on her, judging how much a threat she presented holding the sword.  Plainly, she posed nary a concern to the creature.  Shoulders lowered, teeth bared, he edged forward, a low growl of intent rising deep in his throat.  The animal scented her fear.  Her weakness only emboldened him. 
Keeping her attention on the black wolf, her eyes quickly scanned to see if there were others coming up behind him or circling around.  Where you found one, usually there lurked a small pack.  Her luck holding, thus far no other pairs of bright eyes appeared; no dark forms skulked through the unmoving undergrowth around the dense pine trees. 
“Oh, please let him be a lone wolf,” she offered her wish to the Auld Ones, before whispering dark words to weave a Charm of Protection, drawing upon what little powers she possessed to sustain her through this ordeal.
 Not a small woman, her Ogilvie blood showed in her tall body and strong bones.  Even so, to hold the heavy broadsword—which took years for a man to master—was tiring.  Her arms vibrated; tremors racked her muscles.  A mix of terror and cold.  The winter storm slowly leached all the strength from her body.  She fought against the quaking, still the sword wobbled in her grip.
Baring his fangs, the wolf crept slowly forward, more daring with each step.  Skena had trouble keeping her vision clear.  Falling flakes and those kicked up by the spindrift continued to stick to her long lashes, adding moisture to the tears she valiantly labored to hold at bay.  It was vital to see the wolf when he leapt, in order to time her swing.  She sucked in a hard breath of terror.  The creature was so much bigger than she expected!

“Off with you, evil foal-chû.  You shall no’ be making a meal of this warrior or me.”  She spoke false courage, hoping the sound of her voice might frighten him into backing off.  Instead, his body coiled, preparing to spring.
So intent upon the wolf, Skena hopped slightly when long arms enclosed about her.  Startled and yet unwilling to take her eyes off the black creature, it was several heartbeats before she comprehended the stranger had awakened and was on his feet.  Suddenly, in his strong embrace she was not so scared.
“Be still, my lady.  I lend my strength to your swing.”  The warrior’s cold hands closed over hers.  He leaned against her back; his powerful muscles caused her shaking to lessen.
Skena had little chance for the details of his nearness to filter through her thoughts, for with a feral snarl the wolf leapt at them.  Frozen in terror, she was unable to move, yet she felt the warrior wielding the sword.  Bared teeth snapped close to her throat.  She cried out and then flinched when the great blade caught the beast in the neck.  Blood splattered across her clothing and her face.  Its heat shocked her.  Numb with the horror, she stared at the animal writhing on the ground.  In the gathering darkness, the pooling blood oddly appeared black upon the pristine snow.  The coppery smell set her stomach to roiling; revolted, she choked back rising nausea.  Her grip slackened about the hilt.  
            The knight’s fingers closed tighter around hers.  “Nay, my lady, never leave a wounded animal alive...sometimes, not even a man.  ’Tis when they are most dangerous.  They risk all for they have naught to lose.” 

 
One Snowy Knight, Dragons of Challon, Book 3

Coming July 2018

Prairie Rose Publications

#DragonsofChallon #ScottishRomance #MedievalRomance  #Historical Romance

Read the Dragons of Challon FREE in Kindle Unlimited!!

Read the Dragons of Challon series on Kindle Unlimited - Freehttp://amazon.com/gp/product/B07FCRDSWD/ref=series_rw_dp_sw
#ScottishRomance #MedievalRomance #HistoricalRomance #PrairieRosePublications

One Snowy Knight up for Pre-Order

http://amazon.com/dp/B07FBRM8FT/
  Woo hoo, look what just went up for pre-order on Amazon  #ChristmasRomance, #HistoricalRomance #ScottishRomance

One Snowy Knight coming!!

Galley is now done, and they are loading it as I post.
I am so excited at the third book in the Dragons of Challon ™ comes out in a couple of days.  I love these anniversary editions, that have over 40,000 more to each saga.
I cannot thank my editor and her partner, Cheryl Pierson and Livia Reasoner  at Prairie Rose Publications for giving me the room to tell the storieshow they were meant to be.
Also a very special thank you to cover artist, Jon Paul Ferrara for granting me
the chance to have the perfect cover for the book!
All leading up to the release of the fourth book in the series

Redemption coming later this year

Happy Fourth

A Gathering of the Cousins...lol

I dragged Candy to General Butler State Park Lodge for a gathering of some cousins


Candy was looking smashing

Mezzanine  of the lodge

View of the entry from the Mezzanine

The dining room


A showcase of vintage postcards in the dining room

Smart people who enjoying the pools -- it was 96 and feel like 106-- but it was cool inside!

My cousins Velma and Cathy with me.

Sadly so many have been lost over the year. 

Rusty, Aunt Georgetta, then Nancy surrounded by her two grandkids, Candy.
Dave, Cathy Velma and me
Brenda, Cathy's husband, two cousin-in-laws and Janie(Velma's daughter)

Cousins Kenny and Michael were not able to attend.  So few left of this branch of the famil.

Velma with me (the groan face is from my knee killing!

Everyone sitting around after a wonderful lunch, talking about memories

Janie and Velma


 Velma, Cathy and Janie

Velma and Georgetta.  Velma just celebrated her 50th anniversary.  Wow where has time gone?

Janie and Velma

What a view from the Lodge!!

One Snowy Knight on secondary market

https://amazon.com/gp/offer-listing/B008LB9WCW/ref=tmm_mmp_used_olp_sr … My third historical novel is listed at http://Amazon.com  for $2,812.49 -- I thought it was high when they had it listed for $2600 last month!! #MedievalHistorical #ScottishHistoricals LOL

Never fear. You don't have to pay that!! The new expanded anniversary edition of One Snowy Knight comes out next month!

Dargon's of Challon™ Book 5 - A Knight Who Dares

Ah, my birthday present!! ( a bit early)  This will be the cover
for the 5th Dragon of Challon ™ novel
Darian Challon's story
My second Jon Paul Ferrara cover
Jon Paul Studios
with John De Salvo as the model


Big thank you, Jon Paul!!