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First Kiss Friday with Cerise DeLand

Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog with fellow Bluestocking Belle Cerise DeLand. Today Cerise is sharing an excerpt from her novella LORD STANTON’S SHOCKING SEASIDE HONEYMOON. This marvelous story is found in the Belles’ box set Storm & Shelter that releases on April 13th. It’s currently on a special preorder sale for only $0.99. Be sure to grab yourself a copy at this reduced price. We hope you enjoy this excerpt and happy reading, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

SETTING: March 28, 1815

Townhouse of Russell Downey, the sixth earl of Stanton, the night before his wedding to Miss Josephine Meadows, the daughter of his associate, a merchant with whom he often deals to buy supplies for Wellington’s Army on the Continent.

Stantontook her hand. “Come. I’ve something to show you.” 

Josephine could have sworn his bright blue eyes danced, declaring enticing things.

Up the grand main staircase he led her to the second floor, down the long hall, to stand before a set of double doors.

He opened both wide. “Your suite. Or rather, soon to be.”

She gazed upon a sitting room, big as her bedroom in St. James’s Square. And nearly empty.

“Furnishings are spare. The two Hepplewhite chairs you may change, of course. The floor needs rugs. Come in here.” He led her into the chamber with a door ajar to a smaller room, most likely her boudoir. Here before her stood only a gigantic clothes press and smaller French lingerie chest. But there was no bed.

She swung, her mouth open to ask why not.

“I ordered my housekeeper and butler to prepare a list of items the room needed for you. They did, but I must say I failed to choose anything.”

“You’re busy,” she said in quick excuse for him.

“That’s not it at all.”

“No?” Dare she hope he intended to take her to his bed? Tomorrow night? And all the nights thereafter?

He threw out his arms in frustration. “I did not know what to get for you. What you’d like.”

I’d like to sleep with you.

“I want you to have everything you desire.”

The lump in her throat grew large.

“I want you to choose. You have excellent taste.”

“Do I?” she asked, wistful, charmed and so unaware he had ever noticed any details about her person.

That gave him pause. “I know you do. From the green gowns you favor that turn your eyes to emerald and the pinks that accentuate the blush in your cheeks. You are quite stunning.”

No one had ever called her stunning. “Thank you.”

He looked at a loss, this man who had commanded hundreds, fought his opponents to the death and who now ran the logistics of supplies that would either make or break the Duke of Wellington’s forces against the little Frenchman who would not stay in exile.

She got her wits about her. “I didn’t expect you to go to such expense for me.”

“Money has no place in marriage. Not in anyone’s. Not in ours.”

“I agree. And for this, I am delighted to do it.” She smiled and spun, arms out, in full circle to welcome the joys of her marriage. Then she went with her impulse and took two steps toward him, and on her tip-toes, reached up to kiss his lips. Briefly. Too briefly.

He clutched her upper arms and as she stepped away, cleared his throat. “I want you to be comfortable. And happy, Josephine.”

“As I will work to make you happy, Stanton.”

“You’ll make me delirious if you use my given name.”

She tipped her head to and fro. “I must practice.”

“Say it now, then.”

“Russell.”

He cocked his right brow. “Russ.”

She let her eyes dance. “Russ.”

“I want this for you, my dear. A completely new start. I owe it to you and to myself. Changing whatever relics of the past that now do not apply to our future.”

“I wish to be your loving helpmate.” 

Once more, he reached out to her and this time, stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “As I will be yours. I am determined to be a good and willing partner, Josephine. Tomorrow I repeat words made by man, meant for God and others. To many who say them, hear them, they are useless. A sign, merely, of lawful commingling. A seal of financial union. I swear to you my words bear none of that. None.”

“Nor will mine.” Ever since I first set eyes on you, I have wanted you for my own. Sans title, money, land. 

His sky blue eyes grew stormy with new happiness and old pain. “Hear me, Josephine. Please, as this revelation is new for me. But I will tell you. I do not wish to belabor you with old sorrows but I will have you know this about me. This, which few have ever learned from my lips.” He seized a breath. “My first marriage was no union of like minds or pleasures.”

He had never spoken of his first wife to her and she doubted to her father, either. While the gossip about the late Countess of Stanton was sparse, the lack of information irritated Josephine especially now that she had accepted his proposal of marriage. A woman who valued an abundance of facts in her work, she knew the past would be vital to understand…and just as vital to avoid duplicating. 

He stared at her. “I married my first wife out of duty. Friendship among our families and land that marched beside each other’s led to an expectation that she and I marry to seal the union of affections. From childhood, I never questioned it. Neither did Henrietta.”

Torment sluiced over his brows and he dropped her hands as if they burned him. Josephine swayed toward him, the magnet of his touch, the hurt of his rejection had always drawn her toward him no matter where he strode.

He took up a stance near the mantel, an Adam’s creation of stark white. His severe black dinner attire created a pillar of harsh contrast to the alabaster. His hand to his lips, the swipe of his fingers across his mouth gave her notice that he meant to continue in this dark vein of remembrance. 

“Growing up together we thought we knew each other. Certainly we valued the same things, didn’t we? The same friends. The Berber horses our fathers raised. The hunt. Poetry.” His pause sent a chill up her back and the hair on her arms lifted. “She wanted to marry young and quickly. Her father had died and her older brother had married. She wished to set up her own house. I agreed to that, to everything. I was free. A carefree lad. Randy, actually. And I had the money. Why should I not marry and indulge us both, eh?

“But I did not see that my agreements were one-sided. I wanted the city. She wanted the country. I wanted the work of Parliament and my friends who worked at Whitehall. She wanted the solitude of her dogs and her roses. When I heard the call of the cavalry and the need to defend my country, she did not approve of my decision to join the Hussars. She demanded I return home and give her babies, days of idling in gardens and reading and pulling deadheads from rosebuds.”

He ran a hand through his hair. The thick mass rumpled wildly around his aquiline features. “She ordered me not to join, not to leave her alone in the country. I refused. For the next few months, she ran hither and yon about the country. Without word of her whereabouts, she kept me guessing. She also kept the ton in ripe gossip. She led me a merry chase. When I learned finally that she had returned home to the Hall, I went there and confronted her. She was wild. She bargained with me. She’d stay in one place if I quit the service and came home to her. She required a constant attendance I could not give her. When I refused, she turned…ugly and took an andiron to me. I bear the scar.”

Josephine’s mouth fell open. She’d never asked how he’d acquired it, assuming it was a battle scar. “Oh, my dear.” 

He swung toward her, the horrified look upon his face warning her off. “I left her that night and never returned. I went off to Portugal and Spain, and learned first-hand the delicate art of supplying thousands of men and animals on the march in a foreign land. A year later while I was there, she died of catarrh. I had her buried in her family’s crypt. Six years ago, when I returned home to England, I had the Hall in Bury St. Edmonds stripped of all she’d put into it. Since then, I’ve had a few essential rooms redecorated. That house, too, awaits your kind touch.”

He’d told her last week that he’d written to tell staff there that they would arrive at a future date for a wedding holiday and that she would attend to the renovations.

He threw her a wan smile. “When I married her, I was twenty years old. She was eighteen. I thought I knew her. She said we were…cut from the same cloth. Ah, but what does one know at eighteen?”

I knew I loved you. That first afternoon, when my father brought me into his offices and introduced his friend, the dashing creature who ensured soldiers had uniforms to clothe them, blankets to warm them, beef to sustain them, shot and rifles and cannon and boots.

“I am sixteen years older now, Josephine, and I do hope much wiser. I see in you, my dear, much that resembles my own temperament. You love people and your work, your father and young brother. You see joy in living and cultivate it. I want to make a good husband to you, Josephine, and I promise to give you the best of me.”

No declaration of love, but she would take it. “Thank you, Russ. I do not marry you lightly. I’ve had suitors.”

His face broke into a rueful smile. “I know you have. Many, I would say.”

She took his good humor and wished to build on it. “I refused them all.”

“Good prospects they were, my darling.”

At his use of that endearment, she noted progress in his regard of her. “You knew, did you?”

He grinned. “Your father and I are very good friends.”

She flowed nearer to him, her hands flat to the silk of his waistcoat. “I was never attracted to any of them.”

“I often wondered why. They were young. James Caffrey of Hammond Lane was only twenty-five when he asked for your hand three years ago. And what’s-his-name English? Thomas English is rich as Midas. Clothier to His Majesty’s Army makes him a good catch.”

She toyed with a button on his waistcoat. “Youth and money have their charms but I was not enchanted.”

“Your father was astonished you refused.”

Years ago, he was. Not lately. “Many times, he asked me why. I’m shocked he told you about their proposals.”

Russ reached for her, his large sure hands cupping her cheeks. “Your papa sprinkled details like lures to a treasure. In truth, I heard more from my friends, tidbits of gossip that you would not have any of them. And I rejoiced.”

Her heart pounded with his admission. “I wish I’d known.”

“Do you?” He hooted, hugged her close and kissed her forehead. “Minx! With every man you refused, I could not keep up with the parade.”

“Surely, sir, you can count to five.” 

He guffawed. “Your father counted eight.”

“That many? How complimentary!” She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew back to admire the man who would be hers at last. Here in this noble, honorable, hard-working creature was all she had ever desired of love. “I wanted only you.”

LORD STANTON’S SHOCKING SEASIDE HONEYMOON,
in Storm & Shelter: A Bluestocking Belles Collection with Friends
By Cerise DeLand

She is so wrong for him.

Miss Josephine Meadows is so young. In love with life. His accountant in his work for Whitehall. Her father’s heir to his trading company—and his espionage network.

Lord Stanton cannot resist marrying her. But to ensure Wellington defeats Napoleon, they must save one of Josephine’s agents.

Far from home, amid a horrific storm, Stanton discovers that his new bride loves him dearly.

Can he truly be so right for her?

And she for him?

STORM & SHELTER, Box set, $0.99 cents on pre-order! 800 pages of delight!

Buy Link: Books2Read: https://books2read.com/u/b5k2pO

About the Author:

 Cerise counts more than 50 published novels to her credit, most of them historical romances. She’s won awards, earned fabulous reviews but she treasures most the readers who have celebrated her work since she was first published in 1991. Her days are filled with the characters she imagines come to her home for tea and dinner to discuss their love lives. Those guests have always made for intriguing conversation on her morning walks or during her morning swims. Is she addicted to writing? Of course, she is. And she declares there is no happier way to live!

Follow Cerise on 

BOOKBUB here: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cerise-deland
Subscribe to my newsletter: www.cerisedeland.com
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Medieval Monday with Ashley York

Welcome back to Medieval Monday. Today’s guest is Ashley York who will be sharing a snippet from her novel Lachlann’s Legacy. I just adore this cover, don’t you? Sit back and happy reading, my lovelies. Enjoy!

Snippet:

“Aye.” She picked it up from the side of his pallet and handed it to him. “Niall left it for ye. I placed it safely beside ye.”

He opened the sack and rummaged within. The cold medallion was easily located on the bottom, and he pulled it out, holding it by the thick chain.

“Ah, the standard of yer father’s clan.” She flashed a grin.

He turned his gaze from its twisting length and smiled back at her. “Of sorts.”

The shifting light revealed she again had that expression of awe.

Lachlann’s Legacy – The Order of the Scottish Thistle
by Ashley York

Hidden secrets could tear them apart as fast as their passion drove them together

On the Moray coast in Scotland…

Ethne’s genuine and caring nature makes her invaluable to her brother as his son’s caretaker, but he and his wife treat her as little more than their servant. When she learns their tribal leader would use her chaste status for his own purposes, Ethne plans to escape and reluctantly accepts the help of Lachlann—a handsome pilgrim she only just met at the local faire.

Despite her independent spirit, Ethne feels drawn to Lachlann. Her instincts say his intentions are honorable, but can she trust him with her heart?

Raised by his godfather with few clues to his family’s past, Lachlann values his freedom and the brotherhood of his highlander kin. Disguised as a pilgrim on a mission for the priory, he encounters Ethne, a warm, intelligent maiden whose courage in the face of a loveless marriage awakens an intense need to protect her.

Unfortunately, Ethne is one of the very people he must deceive to explore the cave system containing clues to the lost treasure he seeks. But he cannot abandon her to an uncertain fate—or deny the simmering tension between them.

With religious prejudice running high and both of them facing tests of loyalty, Lachlann and Ethne may realize the only way to fight for their futures is to surrender… to each other.

BUY LINK: https://www.ashleyyorkauthor.com/lachlanns-legacy

First Kiss Friday with Jude Knight

It’s always a pleasure to have my friend Jude Knight back on my First Kiss Friday blog. Today Jude is sharing an excerpt from her novel To Mend A Broken Hearted. Enjoy and happy reading, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

Had she not been equally frustrated, Ruth might have been amused at Val’s valiant attempts to hide his dissatisfaction with the additions to their company. She had planned to allow him the kiss she hoped he wished to steal.

Her spirits soared, however, when they came through the gate into the enclosed space. It was larger than she expected, larger even than her mother’s garden. It was also very overgrown, so that one path could not be seen from another. And Jeyhun and Zyba had been courting in decorous fashion for some time. 

She bided her time, allowing Val to conduct the tour of the main features of the garden. Despite his constant refrain of, “Of course, it used to be much more beautiful,” enough remained to charm and delight. The former Lady Ashbury had selected for scent and form, as well as for plants whose blooms were open at night, and all the blooms were white, glowing luminescent in the light of the moon, as did much of the foliage.

At last Ruth suggested sitting for a while on a bench near the central fountain. As she expected, her captain and her companion quickly became restless. They had been comparing eastern gardens with the ones they had seen since their arrival in England, and Zyba was certain that a tree they had passed near the entrance to the enclosure was similar to one that bloomed in a garden they had visited in Istanbul. Jeyhun was equally sure she was mistaken.

“Why do you not go and take another look?” Ruth asked.

Jeyhun opened his mouth to argue about leaving her alone with their host, but Zyba took his arm and led him away. Val looked at Ruth with what she was certain, even in her innocence, was desire, but he stayed sitting on the rim of the fountain.

“There is plenty of room beside me,” she said, her cheeks heating at her own boldness. 

He leapt up and closed the space between them in two long strides, then sat just far enough away that he touched no part of her, except for the heated gaze that swept from her brow to her shoulders, bared by the fashionable gown, and lower.

She returned the gaze, tracing his face, his shoulders, his torso, with her eyes, and when he leaned towards her, she met him partway. Only their lips touched, brushing once, twice, a third time. He straightened, so that his face drew away a few inches. “Ruth?”

She answered what she hoped he was asking. “Yes.” She leaned towards him again, and he shifted so that they were thigh to thigh. He slid his hands—flesh on one side and carved wood on the other—across her arms and around her back, pulling her chest to chest. This time, when their mouths connected, they clung.

She was vaguely aware of the texture of his jacket under her palms, but most of her attention was on the touch of his lips on hers, of his teeth nipping her lower lip, of his tongue surging inside her mouth when she gasped at that gentle nibble. 

She turned her face to give him better access. She had always wondered whether noses interfered with kissing, but apparently her body knew how to prevent that from happening. Someone moaned, and she rather thought it was her. Without her willing it, her body moulded itself to his, but she could not get close enough. She edged up onto his thigh, and it was his turn to moan as her leg slipped down between his and pressed up against something rigid and unyielding.

“Ruth…” he said her name on a groan, then again, this time more sharply, turning his head as her mouth followed his and tried to reconnect. “Ruth. Sweetness. We have to stop.”

Yes. Yes, they did. Heavens! Jeyhun and Zyba were somewhere nearby, perhaps just around the corner, and she was draped over the Earl of Ashbury like a tavern slattern. She jerked away from him, the heat rising in her face. Whatever did he think?

“I beg your pardon,” she murmured.

“I am the one that should apologise, but I find it hard to be sorry. That kiss…!” Val’s voice still sounded strained, as if he were in pain. Her doctor’s mind registered a point from her reading: extreme tumescence could be painful, and when she had been on his lap, she had felt his… If her face got any hotter, it would melt.

She opened her mouth to make some sort of an excuse for her behaviour, or to change the subject to something innocuous. But what came out just added to her embarrassment. “I have never been kissed before. Was it…?” She wasn’t sure what she was asking. Was it exceptional? Was it meaningful to you? Was it something we could do again?Perhaps all of them.

Val, who had dropped his arms when she shifted away, lifted his good hand to cup her cheek and move her face so he could gaze into her eyes. “I have never had a kiss like that in my life. Ruth, you are an exceptional woman, and make me wish with all my heart I was a better man.”

She leaned into his hand. “You are a good man, Valentine Monforte.”

A burst of dialogue came from just beyond the hedge that shielded them. Jeyhun and Zyba were returning.

Val caressed her lips with his thumb before standing, allowing his fingers to trail over her cheek as he dropped his hand and stepped away. He was just in time. Jeyhun and Zyba rounded the turn in the path, and their stolen moment together was over.

To Mend the Broken Hearted

Ruth is a healer, not a social gadfly. She’s glad to leave the foreign world of the ton to run an errand for her sister-in-law. She doesn’t expect to be caught up in a smallpox epidemic, nor to meet the man of her dreams.

Ruth Winderfield is miserable in London’s ballrooms, where her family’s wealth and questions over her birth make her a target for the unscrupulous and a pariah to the high-sticklers. Trained as a healer, she is happiest in a sickroom. When a smallpox epidemic traps her at the remote manor of a reclusive lord, the last thing she expects is to find her heart’s desire.

War and betrayal have wounded Val beyond bearing. The woman who arrives at his retreat with patients who need shelter says she’s a healer. But he is beyond healing. Isn’t he?

Valentine, Earl of Ashbury, was carried home from war three years ago, unconscious, a broken man. He woke to find his family in ruins, his faithless wife and treacherous brother dead, his family’s two girl children exiled to school. He becomes a near recluse while he spends his days trying to restore the estate, or at least prevent further crumbling.

When an impertinent, bossy female turns up with several sick children, including the two girls, he reluctantly gives them shelter. Unable to stand by and watch the suffering, he begins to help with the nursing, while he falls irrevocably for both girls and the lovely Ruth.

The path to happiness passes through danger and scandal 

The epidemic over, Ruth and Val part ways, each reluctant to share how they feel without a sign from the other. Ruth returns to her family and the ton. Val begins to build a new life centred on his girls. But danger to Ruth is a clarion call Val cannot ignore. If they can stop the villains determined to destroy them, perhaps the hermit and the healer can mend one another’s hearts.

Buy link: https://books2read.com/b/3GANrd

About Jude Knight

Have you ever wanted something so much you were afraid to even try? That was Jude ten years ago.

For as long as she can remember, she’s wanted to be a novelist. She even started dozens of stories, over the years. 

But life kept getting in the way. A seriously ill child who required years of therapy; a rising mortgage that led to a full-time job; six children, her own chronic illness… the writing took a back seat.

As the years passed, the fear grew. If she didn’t put her stories out there in the market, she wouldn’t risk making a fool of herself. She could keep the dream alive if she never put it to the test.

Then her mother died. That great lady had waited her whole life to read a novel of Jude’s, and now it would never happen.

So Jude faced her fear and changed it–told everyone she knew she was writing a novel. Now she’d make a fool of herself for certain if she didn’t finish.

Her first book came out to excellent reviews in December 2014, and the rest is history. Many books, lots of positive reviews, and a few awards later, she plans to keep publishing until she runs out of years.

Website and blog: http://judeknightauthor.com/

Subscribe to newsletter: http://judeknightauthor.com/newsletter/

Bookshop: https://judeknight.selz.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JudeKnightAuthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JudeKnightBooks

Pinterest: https://nz.pinterest.com/jknight1033/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jude-knight

Medieval Monday with Eliza Knight

Welcome to another Medieval Monday with today’s guest Eliza Knight. Eliza is sharing a snippet from her book The Highlander’s Reward. Isn’t the cover just gorgeous? Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!

Snippet:

Magnus could hold himself no longer. Gradually, he bent toward her until his mouth brushed over the velvet of her lips. She sucked in a breath, but did not retreat. If anything, she pressed forward into the kiss. She was bold, curious and he liked that. The scent of wildflowers surrounded her. It was in her hair, against her skin. He slid his hands up her arms, over her shoulders until he gently held her face. Her skin was soft, warm.

The Highlander’s Reward – The Stolen Bride Series
by Eliza Knight

She belonged to another… But was destined to be his…

Lady Arbella de Mowbray abhors the idea of marrying an English noble occupying Scotland. When she arrives in Stirling, she is thrown into the midst of a full battle between the Scots and the English. Besieged by rebels, she is whisked from her horse by a Highland warrior who promises her safety. But when he kisses her, she fears she’s more in danger of losing herself.

The last thing Magnus Sutherland wants is to marry the beautiful English lass he saved. As the laird of his clan, he has a responsibility to his clan and allies. But when Arbella is attacked by one of his own men, he determines the only way to keep her safe is to make her his. A decision that promises to be extremely satisfying.

Magnus brings Arbella to his home of Dunrobin Castle in the Highlands. And that’s where the trouble begins… Their countries are at war and they should be each other’s enemy. Neither one considered their mock marriage would grow into a deeply passionate love. What’s more, they were both unhappily betrothed and those who’ve been scorned are out for revenge. Can their new found love keep them together or will their enemies tear them apart?

“For fans of Highlander romance, this series is a must read!” ~ Night Owl Reviews, TOP PICK!

Buy Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/31v9rxZ
Apple: https://bit.ly/HighlandersReward
B&N: https://bit.ly/BN-Reward
Kobo: https://bit.ly/KoboReward

First Kiss Friday with Mary Morgan & a Giveaway!

Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog! You’ve seen my friend Mary Morgan here before and I’m always thrilled to have her and her characters as my guest. We hope you enjoy this excerpt from Quest of a Warrior. which is currently on sale. Be sure to grab a copy while you can at the reduced price and don’t forget to leave her a comment here on my blog to be in the running for her giveaway. Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies.

Excerpt

“Intoxication can unleash the beast within a Fae.” ~Chronicles of the Fae

Conn fought the bolt of desire spearing a path throughout his body. Her touch spoke volumes—an invitation to taste. Never had he longed to kiss a human like this wee lass. His heart beat loudly, and he found himself unable to move. She was a Goddess of the moonlight. It danced off her face and hair, and he trembled before her. Ivy’s fingers traced a path down his cheek and across his lips. He was helpless to contain the growl that escaped from his mouth. 

The rush of passion overtook him, and Conn slammed the door on his mind. Grasping Ivy around the waist, he hoisted her up on top of the bridge. Her lips parted on a sigh, and he lowered his mouth to feast on something he dared not take. The first brush of her soft lips against his own ignited a hunger he could no longer contain. Taking her moan deep into him, Conn glorified in the sensation of her mouth—one filled with a honeyed sweetness. 

The Fae warrior became just a man for the first time. Something primal burst within him. Emotions he had never felt left him dizzy, spiraling to a physical plane. He craved them all. His lips seared a path down her neck, to her throat, and then recaptured the velvet warmth of her mouth. 

Ivy wrapped her arms around his neck, and he deepened the kiss. When her legs went around his waist, he was the one to moan. His body burned to delve inside her—give her all that he had by spilling his seed deep within her. He wanted to claim her for his own. Show her the moon and the stars with every kiss—every touch.

QUEST OF A WARRIOR, Legends of the Fenian Warriors, Book 1
By Mary Morgan
On sale for 99¢ from 3/12 – 3/26

“You met them in the Order of the Dragon Knights. Now, journey to the realm of the Fae and witness their legends!”

Fenian Warrior, Conn MacRoich has traveled the earth for thousands of years, guarding the realm between mortal and Fae. His deeds are legendary. Yet, one mistake will force him on a journey to fix a broken timeline. However, on Conn’s quest, he must face a human female who will eventually bring this ancient warrior to his knees. 

When Ivy O’Callaghan inherits her uncle’s estate, she never imagines there will be more secrets to unravel, including the one she hides from the world. With the help of a mysterious stranger, she learns to trust and step out of the shadows. However, nothing prepares Ivy when she learns Conn’s true identity. 

As the loom of fate weaves a thread around the lovers from two different worlds, will the sacrifices they make lead them to love? Or will their secrets destroy and separate them forever?

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Quest-Warrior-Legends-Fenian-Warriors-ebook/dp/B072HPBMDM/

Barnes & Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/quest-of-a-warrior-mary-morgan/1126404360/

Apple Books: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/quest-of-a-warrior/id1231868317?mt=11

Author Bio

Award-winning Celtic paranormal and fantasy romance author, Mary Morgan resides in Northern California with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return.

 
Mary’s passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. Inspired by her love for history and ancient Celtic mythology, her tales are filled with powerful warriors, brave women, magic, and romance. It wasn’t until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling by writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.

If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.

Connect with Mary here:

Website/Blog:  https://www.marymorganauthor.com/

Amazon Author:  http://www.amazon.com/Mary-Morgan/e/B00KPE3NWI/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MaryMorganAuthor/

Twitter:  http://twitter.com/m_morganauthor

Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8271002.Mary_Morgan

Pinterest:  www.pinterest.com/marymorgan50/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/marymorgan2/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-morgan

Audible: https://www.audible.com/author/Mary-Morgan/B00KPE3NWI

GIVEAWAY: To be in the running for Mary’s giveaway of one digital copy of Quest of a Warrior and a $5 Amazon gift card, be sure to leave her a comment on this post! She’ll choose a winner on Sunday morning.

Medieval Monday with Celeste Barclay

Welcome to week four of our First Kiss theme for Medieval Monday. Toady’s guest is Celeste Barclay who is sharing a snippet from her story, Leif, Vicking Glory. Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!

Snippet:

Sigrid did not recognize the whimper coming from what felt like a soul deep need. The kiss remained slow even as the passion fired again between them. Neither was in a rush to end the kiss or to even further their embrace. Leif knew she was an innocent from her tentative acceptance of his tongue’s invasion, but he reveled in her willingness to match his desire and need with her own fire…He slid his lips along her cheek until he could alternate gliding his tongue and nipping his way down her neck to her collar bone. There, he peppered her flesh with the lightest kisses that seemed to just graze her skin. Rather than soothe her need and bring their tryst to an end, it seemed to spur Sigrid on further. She pulled his hair, and when he raised his head, she dove in for another searing kiss…It was only when they were both out of breath they pulled apart.

Leif, Viking Glory 1
By Celeste Barclay

Fate brought them together. Free will binds them.

After months at sea, Leif Ivarrson wants nothing more than to revel in the comforts of home. Yet when word arrives that a new threat has invaded their land, Leif is forced to take up his sword once more. Tasked with rescuing a jarl’s niece, Sigrid, from this malicious enemy, Leif departs on a journey that will alter the course of his fate. 

Since she was a young girl, Sigrid Torbensdóttir’s visions have been both a blessing and a curse. Now a grown woman and powerful seer, she knew enemies would come for her, eager to exploit her gift. Yet her visions taught her that fate could not be denied or ignored. As she had foreseen it, the heroic Viking would save her and sweep them both up in the raging storm of inescapable destiny. 

Drawn together by the will of the gods, Leif and Sigrid battle to save their people from a rival tribe’s scramble for power. Will their blossoming love survive the tests of war and family? Can a match created by fate withstand the machinations of man?

Set sail for adventure in this steamy Viking romance sure to leave you breathless! Norse lore meets passion and intrigue in Leif, written by Celeste Barclay! 

Buy Link: www.books2read.com/leifvikingglory

Check out last week’s with Ruth A Casie: http://www.ruthacasie.blogspot.com/
Follow along with next week with Judith Marshall: https://judithmarshallauthor.com/blog/

First Kiss Friday with Veronica Crowe

Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. Last week I introduced you to my dear friend Veronica Crowe and her new release The Wrong Prince. Today, she’s returning to share a first kiss excerpt with you… you may wish to have a fan ready! Please be sure to show some love to Veronica by leaving a comment. Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

“I don’t even know your name,” Richard whispered in her ear. “I’d like to see you again, princess, if you will let me.”

Cassandra snapped her head up, alarm rising in her throat. She had almost forgotten. They might have spoken to each other at Almack’s, but she had never given him her name! He did not know who she truly was, nor did any of the guests in this house. Both of them were just nameless painted faces in a sea of kings and queens, princes and princesses, and a number of costumed others. 

Could it be possible for her to be with him for just one night, shrouded under the protection of anonymity? To delight in his embrace; to lose herself in his kiss for just a few stolen moments before he was gone? Could she have Richard, at least once, before he was taken away from her forever?

Cassandra’s heart lurched in earnest at the thought. He could never be hers—what else was there for her to lose? Life was too short to spend wondering about what could have been. What difference would it make if she took her chances with him now? One night was all she needed; to share an embrace and a few kisses—a treasured moment in time where the two of them belonged to no one but each other.

“Meet me by the fountain in the garden,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice as the waltz ended. Then, she slid from his arms and disappeared into the festive throng of colorfully dressed guests, her back straight and heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation at her brazenness.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the veranda and made her way into the dimly lit gardens below. Lanterns lined the path and flickered from the trees as she wandered deeper into the hedges. Around her, concealed from view, she could hear the giggles and murmurs of couples out on a rendezvous. 

She wrinkled her eyebrows as she came upon a centerpiece with the statue of Aphrodite on a pedestal, turning her head to the left and then to the right in confusion. From where she stood, the pathway divided into three lanes. She wondered where the blasted fountain could be, before deciding that the most practical way would be to take the middle. However, as she neared the end of the trail, she heard the gush of water not just from the path up ahead, but also from either side of the tall hedges separating the pathways.

She paused in her tracks, uncertain of what to do as she realized there was more than one fountain. The garden in this part of the property was the farthest from the house and it was very dark, save for an occasional flickering lantern spaced a good distance apart from each one than those nearer to the residence. Only the silken light of the moon served as the other form of illumination that washed over the landscape, turning everything it touched into a somber shade of silver and gray, crowning the ebony shadows swaying in the slight breeze. Everything in the landscape appeared grotesque and mysterious, even somewhat sinister, inciting a spurt of uncertainty and apprehensiveness in her bosom. An eerie silence pervaded the unfamiliar surroundings, and she had the unnerving feeling that unseen creatures hiding in the shrubbery were watching her every move.

Cassandra hugged herself, rubbing her arms, and wondered if she should just give up and turn around. At the unexpected echo of strange noises and rustling coming from the trees, she whipped around this way and that, peering into the darkness, straining her eyes to see what lies beyond. Maybe this was a mistake. Perhaps she should return to Mama and Allayne.

She began to back away and retrace her steps, but then, from the corner of her eye, she caught a distinct movement to her right. Spinning in that direction, she caught a glimpse of the prince of her dreams to the fore, resplendent in his magnificent royalty costume. 

Richard.

He had his back turned, facing the enormous fountain—waiting for her.

A renewed determination shot through her veins. Her heart began to pound rapidly in her chest. She could do this. She would not miss it for anything. Sweat broke upon her brow and she wiped hands that had suddenly turned clammy on her skirt. Fairly trembling with anxiety and anticipation, she sneaked up to him until he was just a breath away. But then, a crackle broke the stillness as she stepped on a dried leaf, and he turned swiftly at the sound to face her. On impulse, she swiftly rose on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss before she completely lost her nerve.

And dear God, did he match her passion with his own! Despite her inexperience, she took his lead, mirroring his movements, receiving him wholeheartedly without hesitation. 

Their tongues twined and he explored her mouth with such skill it made her moan and melt in his arms. He was a wonderful kisser, just the way she had imagined him to be.

The kiss went on and on until she felt his hand slide up to cup her breast and squeeze it gently. She gasped as his thumb rolled her nipple over the thin silk of her dress. Then, he plundered her mouth some more in a demanding kiss that swept the air from her lungs.

Cassandra’s knees turned to jelly at the intensity of the rapture they shared. She leaned heavily against him, lost in her own slice of heaven on earth. His arms tightened and fastened her possessively against him, crushing her breasts into his hard, muscled chest. Her mind deserted her when suddenly, his mouth left hers and skimmed over her throat, gliding downwards in a lazy course until his tongue found the cleft between her breasts and dipped inside with wet, slow strokes. 

A surge of warmth flooded the triangle between her thighs, and she closed her eyes at the overwhelming desire she felt, allowing him to feast on her bosom. When she couldn’t stand the sensation he aroused any longer, she clutched his hair to bring his mouth back to hers. Good God, but she wanted to keep on kissing him forever! She wanted to remember his taste, his scent, the feel of his mouth and hands on her. She wanted to imprint his whole person in her memory so that when this dream ended, she could play it in her mind over and over again whenever the wretchedness of missing him overtook her.

A small protest escaped her lips when he pulled abruptly away, breaking their fervent kiss, and yanking her unceremoniously out of her magical fantasy.

“I see you’ve been practicing,” he drawled in that unmistakable voice Cassandra would recognize even on her deathbed.

“Oh!” She gasped in shock and sprang away from him like a frightened rabbit, still panting from the heat of his bold advances. A feeling of horror slowly stemmed in her gut and snaked up to her flaming cheeks. 

“J-Jeremy?” she managed to say in a small voice.

“Who the devil did you think it was?” He pulled off his mask and gave her that heart-stopping crooked smile of his. “Prince bloody Charming?”

The Wrong Prince
Book #1 in the Heirs of Cornwall Series
By Veronica Crowe

Will her childhood knight come charging in on a white horse and rescue her?

Richard Christopher Radcliffe, the Marquess of Sunderland, the man Miss Cassandra Carlyle has loved since she was a little girl, has returned—with his betrothed in hand. Lady Desiree was the picture of grace, beauty and perfection, everything that the naive, unsophisticated, young Cassandra was not.

Dejected and brokenhearted, Cassandra asked her family to take her to London for her first season. With the aid of her friend, Jeremiah Devlin Huntington, Marquess of Waterford, she soon found herself touted as the darling of the ton.
Cassandra could not be more pleased with her success, newfound popularity, and impressive list of eligible suitors.

Will Richard take notice and come charging in on a white horse? Or will she find love where she least expects it—but is too blind with her childhood infatuation to notice all along?

Buy Link or Read FREE in Kindle Unlimited: http://bit.ly/TheWrongPrince

About the Author:

Veronica Crowe is the author of the Heirs of Cornwall series for Dragonblade Publishing. If you like laugh-out-loud Regency romance full of romantic entanglements, hilarious misadventures, profound, heartfelt moments, and grand happy endings, this series is for you!

Heirs of Cornwall Books:
The Wrong Prince
The Viscount’s Heir
My Only Earl

Social Media: https://www.facebook.com/Veronica-Crowe-107641207752085

Medieval Monday with Daryl Devoré

Welcome back to another Medieval Monday. It’s our third week in our First Kiss theme and today I have another new author to introduce you to. Daryl Devoré has a snippet for you from The Last Dragon! Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!

Snippet:

Hawkyns’ face lit with joy as he talked about his childhood. Derry tried to mask the sadness she felt not being able to remember any of hers. With forced playfulness, she asked, “Frogs or snakes?”

“Both. I once slipped a frog into the pocket of Cook’s apron. It took the most inappropriate moment to hop out and startled her. She claims she screamed so loud that she curdled the cream.”

Derry smiled. “I once watched Pariset set a snake loose among a group of girls. They squealed like pigs and ran about in circles.”

From the contented smile on Hawkyns’ face, Derry knew he was relieving past moments of devilish pranks. 

The Last Dragon
by Daryl Devoré

A prince. A sorceress. And a heart-breaking secret.

What do dragons, knights and romance have in common? Grab a copy of multi-published author Daryl Devore’s medieval fantasy romance – The Last Dragon and discover the answer.

A sorcerer craving dominance merged with a dragon, the power overwhelmed him causing him to split into three dragons. Demora ruled thought, but was lost in time. Yidithe offered protection, shining like the light of the sun. Ayrradex craved chaos, revelling in destroying souls. 

Many knights died, attempting to slay the devil beast. One knight, Prince Hawkyns, did not fear death. He’d lost everything. Away on a mission when Ayrradex attacked his father’s kingdom, Penrythe, Hawkyns returned to find his noble father – feeble and defeated. His wise mother – crazed. His beautiful wife and unborn child – dead. Only a pile of ashes remained for him to bury. He knelt before his King and vowed to slay the devil-beast or be slain. 

Derry was born with powers that terrified her parents. They delivered her to a nunnery to be raised in secret. Jathe, a wise sorceress, discovered the young girl and trained her to one day use the secret hidden in her soul.

Legends spoken around campfires hinted the sole way to destroy Ayrradex was when the hearts of a knight and a golden dragon became one. But after a vicious battle with Ayrradex, the golden dragon was thought to be dead. 

Can Prince Hawkyns’s bravery and Derry’s powers end the reign of the devil-beast’s terror?

Buy Links:

Amazon – ebook – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08QPW4CVF
Amazon – print – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08QRVJ59P
Books2read – universal link – ebook – https://books2read.com/The-Last-Dragon
Books2read –universal link – print –  https://books2read.com/The-Last-Dragon-

See last week’s snippet on Ruth A. Casie’s blog – www.RuthACasie.blogspot.com
Follow along next week on Judith Sterling’s blog – https://judithmarshallauthor.com/blog/

First Kiss Friday with Sophia Nye

Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog! I’m so happy you’ve stopped by and if you’ve been joining in on our Medieval Monday blog you’ll have seen posts from author Sophia Nye. Sophia is joining us today with a fist kiss scene from her story A Wild Winter. We hope you enjoy this excerpt. Happy reading, my lovelies!

Scene Set-Up: Gemma and Aidan are being pursued by English knights intent on taking custody of Gemma. Gemma decided that Aidan was being foolish, so she left him to hide on her own. But, as she’ll soon realize, her relentless rescuer doesn’t give up quite so easily…

Excerpt:

At the bottom of the ravine, Gemma found precisely what she’d hoped. A deep overhang, and with it the promise of protection from anyone looking down from the road above. Such low areas of the forest held water, which made them the most densely foliated places, even in winter. Piles of leaves and six foot high stands of bramble safely hid her from the dangers lurking nearby. She wagered there was enough cover to hide even a horse for a short time.

The knights had come upon Gemma early that afternoon while patrolling the forest and recognized her. Concerned over her state of disarray after traveling on foot through the Kingswood for the better part of the night, they were insistent on accompanying her home. Had she been left to her own devices, Gemma knew she could have convinced them to leave her be. Then the Highland trio had turned up, done battle with the king’s men, and generally mucked up the situation.

The sound of shuffling leaves drew Gemma’s attention sharply from her thoughts. Something was approaching the ravine from the bottom, directly in front of her. In the dark, ‘twas difficult to see until Aidan was so close she could almost grab him. He hadn’t spotted her yet.

Conflict wracked Gemma. Her instincts told her to pull him into the safety of her hiding spot. Her mind observed that this was the perfect opportunity to be free of him and continue alone toward freedom. She could reach Banesberie and shelter there until she decided what to do next. And there wouldn’t be a Highlander to interfere.

Aidan led his horse along on foot, clearly searching for her. White moonlight bounced off his wild head of dark waves. Then he turned so that she could clearly see the expression on his face. He was worried. His narrowed eyes scoured the bottom of the ravine, a deep frown etched into his face. 

Gemma relented, filled with pity for this man trapped in unexpected peril, tracking down a woman he hardly knew to make good on a promise to a friend. Though she still had every intention of abandoning him as soon as possible, her heart ached at the look on his handsome face. He was worried about her.

Quick enough that she couldn’t change her mind, Gemma reached out of her hiding spot to grab him. Taking the reins from him yet again, she settled his horse into the bramble, tying it to a fallen log. When she looked up, Gemma realized that Aidan’s head was sticking out of the top of the bramble. Nothing was ever easy with him. She gave his arms a good yank to pull him lower.

He didn’t budge. The look of shock at his quick change of scenery gave way to anger.

“Are you mad, woman?” he hissed much too loudly. “You could have been killed!”

Gemma couldn’t care less about his tirade. She needed to get him sitting down or they’d be caught in minutes. Though she continued pulling his arms down at his elbows, a motion she thought should be perfectly clear, he persisted in his monologue.

“They might have found you before me! Gemma, are you even listening?” he paused a breath as though he might let her get a word in, but then he kept speaking. 

During the brief moment of quiet, Gemma heard hoof beats approaching on the road atop the ravine. She was running out of time.

“And we are going to have words about you stealing my horse, lass,” he began.

Out of ideas and unable to talk over of him, Gemma placed her hand on his lips. 

Instantly, he grew silent.

Gemma leaned closer to him, knowing the English would be nearly above them by now. “You must lower yourself,” she whispered in his ear, keeping her hand over his lips until she knew he understood. “They’ll see you.” She looked upward without moving her head, indicating the road just above them.

Aidan’s eyes followed hers, and she could see the understanding in them. He knelt before her, now only several inches taller than her instead of half a person. His piercing blue eyes held her gaze. A change came over his face, a look she had not seen before in those eyes. A look so unfamiliar it took her several seconds to place it. Desire.

Gemma’s heart thundered louder than the horses overhead. She realized with surprise that she liked it when he looked at her that way. She also realized that her fingers were still on his lips. Her hands slid down to his chest, resting there on the rough linen of his shirt. Their breath mingled in wisps of steam in the cold night air. Before she gathered the courage to look into his eyes again, his lips were on hers.

The searing kiss melted away any lingering chill in the frosty winter night. All of the tension, all of the fear, all of the frustration of the last day evaporated. Only this kiss remained. Aidan’s hands gripped her waist, bringing her up against him with an urgency that thrilled her.

Gemma grabbed the edges of his heavy woolen cloak, pulling it around the two of them like a blanket. She matched his passion with her own. As icy moonlight poured over their stolen kiss, deep within Gemma a fire ignited.

Aidan broke the kiss at the sound of voices from above. He checked to be sure they were safe before looking at Gemma again. Then he swallowed hard, his eyes straying over every inch of her as she stood before him.

When Cadwal had looked at her in her cottage, Gemma felt as though she would empty the contents of her stomach. As Aidan’s eyes roved her, a fluttery feeling erupted within her, and she thought she herself might be able to fly.

Gemma’s fingers traced the chiseled lines of his square jaw, working from one side to the other as she studied his masculine beauty.

“You’re going to be the death of me, lass,” he whispered.

A Wild Winter
By Sophia Nye

A Highland rescuer, a runaway princess, and their journey to escape a royal problem…

Aidan MacMaster has never felt at home in his Highland clan. Always on the lookout for excuses to leave his family in search of adventure, Aidan gets more than he bargained for when he agrees to go off in search of a missing woman.

Gemma FitzRoy, illegitimate daughter of King Henry and a Welsh princess, finds herself standing face to face with her worst nightmare: an arranged marriage to a monster of a man. After an unpleasant encounter with her would-be betrothed, Gemma takes off into the wilderness in search of a new future.

Swept away together on a journey of discovery and intrigue, Gemma and Aidan must decide between the pasts they left behind and the future they imagine together. Will one wild winter together free them from the past or freeze their hearts forever?

Buy link for book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WC78772

About the author:

A historian and archaeologist turned writer, Sophia has been making up stories since she could talk. When she isn’t working on her next novel, you can find her in the garden. Sophia lives in Indiana with her husband, two children, and their menagerie of pets.

Website: https://sophianyewrites.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SophiaNyeWrites
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SophiaNyeWrites
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sophianyewrites/

New Release from Veronica Crowe!

Hello, my lovelies. It’s always a pleasure when I can introduce my readers to a new author. Today I have a special treat when I share a new release from my dear friend, Veronica Crowe. The Wrong Prince released today. Read on for the blurb and if you’re in Kindle Unlimited, you’ll find it there. Enjoy and congratulations Veronica on your release. May your sales soar!

The Wrong Prince
Book #1 in the Heirs of Cornwall Series
By Veronica Crowe

Will her childhood knight come charging in on a white horse and rescue her?

Richard Christopher Radcliffe, the Marquess of Sunderland, the man Miss Cassandra Carlyle has loved since she was a little girl, has returned—with his betrothed in hand. Lady Desiree was the picture of grace, beauty and perfection, everything that the naive, unsophisticated, young Cassandra was not.

Dejected and brokenhearted, Cassandra asked her family to take her to London for her first season. With the aid of her friend, Jeremiah Devlin Huntington, Marquess of Waterford, she soon found herself touted as the darling of the ton.
Cassandra could not be more pleased with her success, newfound popularity, and impressive list of eligible suitors.

Will Richard take notice and come charging in on a white horse? Or will she find love where she least expects it—but is too blind with her childhood infatuation to notice all along?

Buy Link or Read FREE in Kindle Unlimited: http://bit.ly/TheWrongPrince

About the Author:

Veronica Crowe is the author of the Heirs of Cornwall series for Dragonblade Publishing. If you like laugh-out-loud Regency romance full of romantic entanglements, hilarious misadventures, profound, heartfelt moments, and grand happy endings, this series is for you!

Heirs of Cornwall Books:
The Wrong Prince
The Viscount’s Heir
My Only Earl

Social Media: https://www.facebook.com/Veronica-Crowe-107641207752085