Sherry Ewing's Blog, page 8

First Kiss Friday with Ruth A. Casie

It’s always a pleasure when I can have an author friend return for my First Kiss Friday Blog. Let’s welcome Ruth A. Casie who has an excerpt from The Lyon’s Gambit. I love everything about the Lyon’s Den Connected World ~ both reading it and writing in this world. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Happy reading, my lovelies, and take it away Ruth!

Setting the Stage:

Mrs. Dove-Lyon has chosen Nathaniel and Louise as the perfect duo for this experiment, mostly because of their steadfast commitment to no commitments whatsoever. As a result, Nathaniel and Louise find themselves in a dance challenge.

Excerpt:

“Of all the couples who participated, only two received perfect scores—Reginald and Isla, as well as Nathaniel and Louise. However, we can only have one winner. Therefore, there will be a second dance challenge.

“The judges and I agree. The quadrille is too tame a dance. The waltz is what they’d like to see. Each couple will perform a passionate and alluring dance. I strongly suggest you not bring your inhibitions to the dance floor but rather demonstrate the chemistry and connection between you.

“The couple that receives the most enthusiastic applause and admiration from everyone else will be declared the winner. The couple that fails to captivate the audience will be given a blindfold to join the others who will entertain us later this evening after drinking a great deal of my champagne.”

Bessie went to the side of the room.

“This is unexpected, isn’t it?” Louise licked her lips and then turned toward him.

“Indeed, it is.” He glanced at her. “Nervous?”

“A bit. I know the quadrille, but I have little familiarity with the waltz.” Her voice trembled as she admitted her lack of skill. He must know she’s not from society. Should she confess right now? My lord, seamstresses do not waltz. We dress women in elegant gowns so you may waltz with them.

He leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. “Have no fear. I will lead you through the steps. Let the music carry you away,” with his finger, he gently guided her chin towards him, ensuring their eyes met, “and give yourself to me. I will do the rest.” His fierce gaze bore into hers, holding her captive with his intensity. His voice was soft, warm and mellow, sending shivers down her spine as her heart raced. She blinked to clear her mind and gather her thoughts. This was just like the card game, she reminded herself. A dance, nothing more.

As the musicians played the first measures of the waltz, a dance considered improper and daring, a hush fell over the room. All eyes focused on the two couples. Nathaniel placed his hand on Louise’s waist, his touch commanding and comforting. Her delicate hand rested on his shoulder as they prepared to move.

“Keep your eyes on me, no one else,” he whispered, his gaze smoldering and unrelenting. She nodded as her heart pounded loudly in her ears. As they began to move, she followed his strong but gentle lead. Louise responded to his every silent command; her body instinctively followed his.

They glided and twirled across the floor, their movements more fluid and synchronized with each step. Nathaniel drew her closer, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. In the candlelit ballroom, their surroundings blurred, leaving only the two of them.

As they danced, the yearning for Nathaniel’s touch intensified with each passing moment. Louise’s heart raced with an inexplicable ache, her desire for him consuming her every thought. It was absurd, she knew, to feel this way so quickly, but she couldn’t help herself.

Afraid that he would see the depth of her emotions reflected in her eyes, she lowered her gaze, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. She dared not look up, fearing he’d see her thoughts clearly in her eyes. “To me,” he commanded in a whispered voice barely audible over the music.

She raised her chin, meeting his intense gaze. Her breath caught, and her legs weakened. But he held her closer, never missing a step. In that moment, with the world spinning around them, she realized with a sudden clarity—she wanted Nathaniel.

As the last chord of the music was played, they bowed to each other, their eyes locked in an unspoken agreement. The dance may have ended, yet a palpable connection between them remained. Several heartbeats passed while the air around them crackled with anticipation.

Nathaniel gently lifted her chin, his hands softly cradling her face. A rush of emotions flooded her being, overwhelming her senses. Their kiss began with a gentle sweetness but soon grew more intense, stirring her heart in a way she had never experienced. In that stolen moment, all worries vanished, leaving the two of them in harmony.

As the kiss deepened, Nathaniel suddenly stepped back, breaking the spell. He hooked her arm onto his and led her from the dance floor.

The audience erupted into applause, cheers, and even a few scandalous whispers, making it clear which couple won their hearts.

He directed them to the side of the room by the terrace doors and on the way secured two glasses of champagne.

“I must confess that I’ve always had a fondness for dancing.” Nathaniel’s words made her smile. “But not as much as this evening.”

She put down her untouched glass. It would wash away the taste of his lips, although nothing would ever take away the soft gentleness of his kiss. Her heart still raced.

“You’re quite good at it.” He gazed at her over the rim of his glass.

Was he referring to dancing or kissing?

The Lyon’s Gambit:
The Lyon’s Den Connected World
By Ruth A. Casie

In the glittering world of London, where society dictates everything, Nathaniel, Marquess of St. John, learned the hard way that playing by those rules doesn’t always guarantee a happy ending. Jilted by a woman chosen for him by his father, Nathaniel swore off marriage and embraced the life of a steadfast bachelor.

Louise Hartfield is a talented seamstress with a disdain for the ton’s rigid expectations. Trapped by her mother’s antiquated insistence that as the elder daughter, she must wed before her younger sister, Louise scoffs at the idea of conforming to such a preposterous rule.

When Nathaniel and his friends bet on whether love can transcend class, they turn to Mrs. Dove-Lyon, whose Lyon’s Den hosts their daring experiment. As Nathaniel and Louise navigate society’s expectations, they find themselves drawn together in a quest for true love. Will they defy tradition or succumb to its demands? In this high-stakes gamble for love, who will emerge victorious?

Buy Link: Amazon
The Lyon’s Gambit is currently on pre-order. The release is May 8.

About the Author:

RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical adventures from the shores of medieval Scotland to the cobblestone streets of Regency London. Within the pages, you’ll discover ‘edge-of-your-seat’ suspense, mind-boggling drama, and heart-melting emotions featuring strong women and the men who deserve them. She currently has four historical series: The Druid Knight, The Stelton Legacy, and The Ladies of Sommer-by-the-Sea, and sheparticipates in The Connected World of The Pirates of Britannia as well as The Lyon’s Den Connected World.

Ruth lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms, and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at a major international bank where she was a product/marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. Grab your favorite cup of tea, or an ale if you prefer, and join her heroes and heroines as they race across the pages to find their happily ever after.  Ruth hopes her stories are your next favorite adventures!

Social Media Links:

Website: https://ruthacasie.com/

Ruth’s Newsletter Signup:  http://ruthacasie.com/contact.html#newsletter      

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

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/RuthACasie/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/RuthACasie

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ruth-a-casie

Amazon: https://amazon.com/author/ruthacasie  

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4792909.Ruth_A_Casie

YouTube:  https://www.youtube.com/@Ruth-A-Casie

TikTok:https://www.tiktok.com/@ruthacasie

Threads: https://www.threads.net/@ruthacasie

Happy Release Day ~ Knight of Chaos!

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood when any author releases another book baby out into the world! If you preordered Knight of Chaos, it should be now loaded on your Kindle for your reading pleasure.

I’ll be in the Dragonblade Publishing Readers group on Facebook from 9-12 PDT today for fun, games, and giveaways. You can join the group here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/274839866984258. And tomorrow the party will continue in Tracy Sumner’s The Contrary Countesses group here https://www.facebook.com/groups/tracysumner. I hope you can join me for some fun and happy reading, my lovelies!

Knight of Chaos: The Knights of the Anarchy (Book Two)
By Sherry Ewing

In the chaos of war, can one knight defy the odds to find peace with the woman warrior he loves?

Sir Theobald Norwood finds himself embroiled in a mission of loyalty and love as he stands by Empress Matilda in her pursuit of the throne. As he and her army head to Winchester, he stumbles upon a mysterious woman named Mistress Ingrid Seymour, hiding in the woods with her own quest in mind. What starts as a test of her worthiness quickly transforms into a profound connection.

As they join forces on the battlefield, Theobald and Ingrid face not only the challenges of war but also the enemies lurking in the shadows. Ingrid’s identity is called into question, shaking the very foundation of her existence, while Theobald grapples with his own emotions. Amidst confusion, they must find a way to let love blossom and unite their hearts.

But with forces working against them, will Theobald and Ingrid be torn apart by the unpredictable tides of fate? Can they overcome their differences and trust one another, or will the mounting chaos consume their chances at happiness?

Join them on a captivating journey as their destinies intertwine, promises are tested, and a love that could defy the odds hangs in the balance.

Read Free in Kindle Unlimited or purchase here on Amazon: 

Amazon US | Amazon AU | Amazon BR | Amazon CA | Amazon DE | Amazon ES | Amazon FR | Amazon IN | Amazon IT | Amazon JP | Amazon MX | Amazon NL | Amazon UK

First Kiss Friday with Knight of Chaos

Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog, fabulous readers. I’m counting down the days (six to be exact) to when Knight of Chaos: The Knights of the Anarchy (Book Two) releases out into the world. Today I’m going to give you… what else but the first kiss scene between Theobald and Ingrid. In this excerpt, Theobald came upon Ingrid and a couple of friends inside his tent. He thinks they want her as much as he does… she has eyes only for him. Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

Oswin gave a short bow and left leaving an awkward silence in his dwelling. ’Twas clear Oswin wished to claim the lady whereas Theobald had the same notion. But she told Oswin that her heart may have been claimed and this was a promising sign giving Theobald hope. When he gave Ingrid his full attention, he noticed her steadying herself whilst leaning on their table. A basket sat upon it and he lifted the linen covering over the wicker hamper. The remains of a meal were inside. He flicked the fabric closed and noticed a small book. Apparently, Oswin was not the only one who had visited Ingrid this day.

“You have had company,” he complained bitterly.

“But not the company I desired. At least until now,” she answered with a bright smile.

He went to Ingrid, placing his hand at her waist. She stepped closer, reaching up to wind her own hand around his neck. Her fingers massaged his neck. He pulled her closer.

“Who else besides Oswin has been visiting you this day?” he asked as morbid curiosity ran amuck inside his head.

“Must we talk about them? They are your friends and now mine, I suppose.”

“Friends?”

“Aye. They have no hold over me beyond friendship. They only came to see to how I fared. Can I assume you were also concerned, and this is what took you away from the battlefield?” Her voice held a silky tone that went straight to his pounding heart. “Also… did I not see flowers being thrust into your brother’s hands when you thought you were interrupting something that to me was of no import? I assume they were for me.” Her hazel eyes twinkled mischievously.

The flowers! He had forgotten all about them when jealousy had overtaken him seeing Oswin on bended knee. Theobald tried to turn to fetch them, but she held firm. “I should retrieve them from my brother. I thought you might like them.”

“I love them, but please wait to fetch them later…” Pressure from her hand had him bending forward until his lips were but inches from her own.

“Are you certain you wish for this, Ingrid?” God help him if she suddenly changed his mind.

“Aye. Now kiss me, Theobald, and give me what I have been missing my entire life.”

’Twas as though the heavens shined down upon them at her words. He brushed his lips over hers giving her small kisses and allowing her the last chance to change her mind before things went any further. But far from pulling away, she pulled him closer until their chests rose as one. The breaths mingled together until Theobald could stand this sweet torture no longer.

His lips overtook hers in a hungry possession. His tongue swept into her mouth to dance with her own until he lost all common sense. His heart beat fiercely, consumed by the sensations of finally holding this woman against his body. A soft moan escaped her, and Theobald held back one of his own. As much as he wished to stay with Ingrid and finish what they started, he was still needed to fight for their cause.

“Theo…” She whispered his name as if her soul was reaching out to his own. It was almost enough to cause him to change his mind about returning to the battlefield. Almost…

Reluctantly, he pulled back from her. Desire sparkled in her eyes like the brightest star in the sky. “Ingrid, we cannot continue what we have started just now,” he said, placing a quick kiss upon her forehead.

“But I thought…”

“’Tis not that I do not wish for this to continue but I am needed,” he began and at her quizzical look he continued, “to return to the fighting, my dear.”

“Oh… aye… of course, the battle. How silly of me to forget,” she said turning her back to him.

He came and turned her around. He placed his forehead against her own whilst her hands wrapped around his waist. “I will also not dishonor you by taking what has begun between us too far without the blessings of a priest. We have time to continue to get to know one another to ensure we might wish to wed,” he proclaimed, coming to the conclusion that she would take him for her husband when the time was right.

“Are you declaring your intentions, Sir Theobald?” she asked with what appeared like hope filling her eyes.

“When the time is right,” he repeated. Placing a soft kiss upon her lips as though sealing his vow, he turned to leave. “Reynard will be outside if you have need of anything.”

“Theobald,” she called out after he opened the flap of the tent.

He peered over his shoulder. “Aye?”

“Be safe,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile.

He nodded and left. His brief reprieve from the battle over, he would thrust himself back into the fighting as though to finish this once and for all—with the hopes of gaining lands and monies in return for his valor. Only then could he court the fair Ingrid as she so deserved.

Knight of Chaos: The Knights of the Anarchy (Book Two)
By Sherry Ewing

In the chaos of war, can one knight defy the odds to find peace with the woman warrior he loves?

In the chaos of war, can one knight defy the odds to find peace with the woman warrior he loves?

Sir Theobald Norwood finds himself embroiled in a mission of loyalty and love as he stands by Empress Matilda in her pursuit of the throne. As he and her army head to Winchester, he stumbles upon a mysterious woman named Mistress Ingrid Seymour, hiding in the woods with her own quest in mind. What starts as a test of her worthiness quickly transforms into a profound connection.

As they join forces on the battlefield, Theobald and Ingrid face not only the challenges of war but also the enemies lurking in the shadows. Ingrid’s identity is called into question, shaking the very foundation of her existence, while Theobald grapples with his own emotions. Amidst confusion, they must find a way to let love blossom and unite their hearts.

But with forces working against them, will Theobald and Ingrid be torn apart by the unpredictable tides of fate? Can they overcome their differences and trust one another, or will the mounting chaos consume their chances at happiness?

Join them on a captivating journey as their destinies intertwine, promises are tested, and a love that could defy the odds hangs in the balance.

Read for Free in Kindle Unlimited or purchase here on Amazon:

Amazon US | Amazon AU | Amazon BR | Amazon CA | Amazon DE | Amazon ES | Amazon FR | Amazon IN | Amazon IT | Amazon JP | Amazon MX | Amazon NL | Amazon UK

First Kiss Friday with Ruth A. Casie

Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. I’m so happy you’ve stopped by. I have returning guest author Ruth A. Casie who has an excerpt to share from her novel Knight of Rapture. We hope you enjoy it. Happy reading, my lovelies! Take it away, Ruth.

Setting the Stage:

In a timeless battle between light and darkness, love becomes the ultimate magic.

The 17th century warrior knight and druid grand master, Lord Arik, manages his estate well and his people honorably. When his sorceress wife, Rebeka, is tricked into returning to the 21st century, he spends months trying to find the precise spell to rescue her. When he finds her, she has no memory of him and decides he will make her fall in love with him, again. I thought you would like before and after excerpts demonstrating their love for each other.

Note: This is Book 2 of the Druid Knight series. Book 1 is Knight of Runes.

Excerpts:

He cleared his mind for the ritual and thoughts of Bran faded—for the moment.

“Hail and welcome,” he declared to the east as fingers of sunlight stretched over the hill. His body warmed as the tattooed runes draped across his back and chest, thrummed and brightened. They were a sign of his station as the druid Grand Master. Each rune strengthened his power and had been earned as he progressed in the Order from druid to Master to the ultimate title of Grand Master. “Thank you, Great Mother for giving us another day, a day of peace…“

And, he murmured, for giving me Rebeka.

The lingering mist faded with the morning sun. Like a cozy down blanket pulled from a bed, the retreating haze revealed the thriving village and farms.

Soon the quiet valley would come to life. Farmers would set off on their daily chores, the villagers would open their shops, and his soldiers would take to the practice fields. His chest swelled. Was it a sin to be proud of what he, together his people, had accomplished? He’d do anything for them, anything to protect their hearths and homes.

He closed his eyes for the morning blessing. “As above, so below. As within, so—.” He took a deep breath and caught the faint scent of lavender and roses. The teasing fragrance announced Rebeka was near. Her morning appearance, with his tankard of watered ale, had become part of his ritual. “…so without,” he continued the rite. “May guidance and love mark our way. And bring success for our clan today. So mote it be.” He opened his eyes.

“The day appears promising.” Rebeka’s voice brought a smile to his lips. She tugged her shawl closer around her shoulders. “M’lord.” Soft puffs of breath surrounded her mouth. There was indeed a chill in the morning air. She gave him his discarded shirt and waited while he shrugged into it before handing him his ale.

She had little on beneath her great shawl. It made his mind wander. “Yes. It will be a good day.” It was always a good day when it began with her at his side. “Almost as good as last night.” They drove each other mad with their verbal banter and soft touches yesterday until she surrendered to him. His reward was to tease her until she yielded last night. Who knew who would yield today? Either way they both won.

Her gaze slid from his chest to his face. Her searing expression brought back the warmth of their passionate evening. Her flushed skin was her silent response.

He returned his gaze to the valley pretending to be interested in the smoke now rising from a distant chimney. He turned his attention back to her.

Faith, how he loved sparring with her.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught her blank stare. But the challenge was given and he understood it had been accepted. With a long pull on his ale he returned his attention to the curling smudge in the sky and like a game of chess waited for her to make the next move.

She rose on tiptoes and bathed his ear with her soft breath. “But not as good as tonight will be,” she whispered. “We celebrate Samhain tonight.”

He didn’t try to hide his arousal. He set the tankard on the wide stone railing before the ale sloshed over its rim.

“Happy thoughts for the day, husband.” She laid her hand on his chest and bent to kiss his cheek.

He caught her around her waist and brought her face to his. How he adored the passion in her violet eyes. They asked for more. He answered with a searing kiss and teased her mouth open with his tongue. She didn’t protest. Instead she moved closer, molding her body into his. Encouraged, his tongue swept her mouth and he reveled at the sweet taste. When he released her she stood in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest with his cheek resting on her hair. Quiet and content, he savored the last few moments while the sun rose over the edge of the hill.

Tricked into returning to the future…

She rushed up the trail into the meadow then skidded to a stop. Her heart skipped a beat.

Arik leaned against the stone signpost. He straightened when he spotted her, a sensual smile spreading across his face beckoning her toward him.

“Love, come quickly,” he called in his deep, melodic voice that both chilled and heated her. He must have finished with the portal sooner than he expected.

“I’m coming.” Eager for his touch, his kiss, she rushed toward him. Perhaps she’d teased too much this morning. Should she admit she had been disappointed when Logan appeared? She rushed toward her husband, the man she loved and trusted beyond all others.

A hint of wind brushed across her face. “Hurry, there isn’t much time,” he shouted over his shoulder while he moved deeper into the meadow toward the oak tree. He was a few steps ahead. Why didn’t he wait for her? She took another step and past the stone marker.

The air chilled and the sky turned an array of colors. Everything around her began to swirl. She realized her mistake too late. The portal—she was in the portal.

Arik. Close to him now, she reached for him but her hand passed through the form. She examined her hand, turning it over, then spotted the shadow of the man.

An illusion? 

The shadow turned toward her. She watched as the wind washed over his face and it changed. “Bran,” she whispered in disbelief. Her head swiveled while she searched for something, anything to grab on to. The portal had one use and she had no intention of leaving.

Get out, her brain shouted.

His lips twisted into a cynical sneer. He tilted his head in jaunty satisfaction, snapped his fingers and vanished.

“No,” she yelled. “Arik,” she closed her eyes and screamed in her head, trying to mind-touch him while the wind tore at her.

“Beka,” he boomed.

Her eyes snapped open. She shielded them from the dust and debris and stared at Arik on the other side of the opening. He stood at the high plateau, miles away. His hands were braced on the opening’s edges, which were nothing more than solid streams of whirling wind. He struggled to keep the portal from closing.

“Come.” His voice didn’t allow for any argument.

The wind whipped at her, pushed her back. She tried again. “I can’t. The wind. Keeps. Pushing. Me. Away.” She shoved her staff in front of her and anchored it in the ground. Against the gusting wind, pulled herself toward him.

“A little more, Beka.” He gripped the edge of the portal with one hand and stretched the other out to her. She shoved her hand toward him as far as she could. The tips of their fingers brushed. In a burst of effort he caught the top of her hand, a precarious hold. With a tight grasp she wrapped her fingers around his thumb.

Safe. She wasn’t far now.

She concentrated on his face. The corners of his mouth turned up as he pulled her toward safety. The wind grew stronger, buffeting around them, then changed its path.

Before she could brace herself for the new direction, the gust blasted them. Without a firm grip, her hand began to slip. She pushed through the building panic. His smile slipped. The expression on his face turned to determination. Again her hand slipped until he held her by her fingertips.

He held them fast—crushing them, but that didn’t matter. He had to hold on to her. Every muscle strained. Inch by inch he brought her closer to him. She tried to help him the best way she could. Anchored to the edge of the portal, Arik encouraged her on. But his alternatives were limited. The closer she got to him, the stronger the gale blew. Just a little closer, that’s all she needed for Arik to grab her and get her out of the portal.

The wind exploded from another direction.

The blasting gale pushed her staff away from the opening, across the dirt, cutting an ugly scar in the ground and dragging her away with her staff.

Away from Arik.

Their bond snapped, Arik fell backward, out of the portal. The wind kept them pinned where they were as cold air swooped around the entrance. When at last the wind eased, they stared in horror at the thick sheet of ice that sealed the portal between them.

They fought their way to the frozen sheet. Rebeka’s hands on one side, Arik’s on the other. In desperation they searched for a weakness.

Time was slipping away.

Arik took out his sword and slashed at the ice but he didn’t make any progress. He sheathed his sword and pounded on the ice with his fists.

Rebeka pummeled the ice with her staff. Chunks flew off but nothing weakened it.

Desperate, they hammered away at the icy barrier.

She took notice as Arik moved his hands over the ice. She did the same. His lips moved but she was unable to hear him. He raised his hands in demand. What was he doing?

Lightning struck the ice and turned it fiery hot.

In horror, she stared at the agony etched on his face. She stood by and watched, unable to help him. He pummeled the icy surface with his fists, his knuckles raw and bleeding. She fixed her stare on the runes on his chest. They pulsated in rhythm with his fists.

Small cracks in the ice appeared and his fists flew faster. He flashed her an encouraging glance but all she saw were the deep cuts in his flesh. His blood was everywhere.

Tears slipped down Rebeka’s cheeks. Helpless, his runes kept flashing faster and his heartbeat raced to keep time. She was certain his heart would burst.

She leaned closer to the barrier, her eyes begging him. Stop, she called to him in her mind. He kept on going. She spread her hands on the shield. “Stop,” she screamed, her voice raw with her effort. The vibration and low-pitch moan of the surface made her flinch. She pulled her hands away.

Unsure, she touched the shield again. It was still. The scream, she was certain it caused the tremor. She searched Arik’s face. He wasn’t aware of it. The beat echoing in her head was almost a steady tone. Fear twisted around her heart. His blood stained the barrier. She was certain he would die if he kept this pace. She couldn’t wait.

She gathered her strength and with lightning speed built the chant inside her. When she couldn’t hold it back any longer she let it loose in a grief-stricken scream.

Everything stopped. The wind. His pounding.

They stood facing each other.

“No, Beka. No,” he screamed, his arms spread out across the barrier. She watched the glazed look of despair spread across his face.

A small portion of the shield fractured, then another, and another. The tiny explosions gathered momentum until they built into a frenzy and every inch of the shield was cracked.

Then silence.

Arik spent months trying to open the portal and find Rebeka. When he does he finds how to open the portal he is in 2011 in his manor and Rebeka has no memory of him. He is determined to stay with her and make her fall in love with all over again. When someone is badly hurt, Rebeka reverts to a healing chant her father taught her and remembers her trip into the past and she remembers Arik…

 “Hold me. Don’t let me go,” she said as she nuzzled his neck and sank into his strong embrace. “Love me,” she whispered in his ear and felt him shiver. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his lips touching hers—she wanted him to bury himself deep inside her and shout her passion to her world and to his.

They sank to the ground and held each other close. She was afraid to let him go, afraid the emptiness would find her, afraid of losing him, again. With an unending thirst, she focused on his mouth, the shape of his lips, the kisses that they promised.

His hand stroked the side of her body from her breast to her thigh, claiming it for himself. She stretched and molded her body to the contours of his, the way he liked. One stroke of her breast and she tugged on his shirt. He didn’t hesitate. He obliged her and pulled it off. Her hand played down the familiar hard planes of his chest. Her eyes widened when she saw the marks. His back and chest were covered with intricate symbols. How hadn’t she seen them before? “These weren’t here.” She traced them with her finger.

He stopped her hand and brought it to his lips. “For six months I tried to find you. He tilted her face to his. She closed her eyes and felt the tingling traces of Dark Magick that thrummed around him.

She moved away, a concerned expression on her face. “What have you done?”

He pulled her back into his arms. “I did whatever was necessary. Now be still and let me hold you.” She settled against him.

“I’ve tried to remember holding you, feeling you before I love you, reliving every moment with you.”

She put her head on his shoulder. He opened her nightshirt and stroked the top of her chest then, with trembling hands, touched her breasts. A low moan escaped her lips. She tipped her face to see his eyes.

“Why are your eyes closed?” she asked.

“I’m seeing if you are as I remember.” He laughed softly.

“And?”

“Better,” he said as he bent and kissed each breast.

She pulled his head away and kissed him. He ignited a flame inside her that set her on fire. A delicious shudder pulsed through her.

The muscles on his chest danced as her fingers lightly traced the runes. “This rune is for the Great Mother.” Her finger poised over the sign. “Thank you, Great Mother,” she said as her lips brushed against his skin. She watched it deckle in gooseflesh. Her finger moved on. “This is our sign.” Encouraged by the hooded passion she saw in his eyes, she kissed the rune and moved on. The tips of her fingers traced down his chest. “Here it is again.” The rune was below his navel. Another kiss. Her fingers trailed down further.

He pulled her up and rolled on top of her. Her body instinctively arched against his. “You are mine.” His warm breath brushed against her face. Two heartbeats passed. “Do you hear me? You’re mine,” he said more urgently.

“Yes.” Her voice was an intimate whisper. His lips tugged into a sideways grin.

It was the smile that made her bones go limp. It was his magick.

“Forever,” was all he said as he settled between her legs. Every inch of him was hard and ready. She focused on his lips while her hands ran over his body. The insistent need to touch him consumed her.

“Love me, Arik. Now.” She wanted to taste him, smell him, feel him.

He crossed the centuries to find her…

For months Lord Arik has been trying to find the right combination of runes to create the precise spell to rescue his wife, Rebeka, but the druid knight will soon discover that reaching her four hundred years in the future is only the beginning of his quest. He arrives in the 21st century to find her memory of him erased, his legacy on the brink of destruction, and traces of dark magick at every turn. 

A threat has followed…

Bran, the dark druid, is more determined than ever to get his revenge. His evil has spread across the centuries. Arik will lose all. Time is his weapon, and he’s made sure his plan leaves no one dear to Arik, in past or present, safe from the destruction. 

But their enemy has overlooked the strongest magick of all… 

Professor Rebeka Tyler is dealing with more than just a faulty memory. Ownership of Fayne Manor, her home, has been called into question. Convenient accidents begin happening putting those she cares for in the line of fire. And then there’s the unexpected arrival of a strange man dressed like he belonged in a medieval fair—a man who somehow is always around when needed, and always on her mind. She doesn’t know who to trust. But one thing is certain. Her family line and manor have survived for over eleven centuries. She won’t let them fall, not on her watch… in any century.

Buy Link:

http://amzn.to/1CtC7ad

About the Author:

RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical adventures from the shores of medieval Scotland to the cobblestone streets of Regency London. Within the pages, you’ll discover ‘edge-of-your-seat’ suspense, mind-boggling drama, and heart-melting emotions featuring strong women and the men who deserve them. She currently has four historical series: The Druid Knight, The Stelton Legacy, and The Ladies of Sommer-by-the-Sea, and she participates in The Connected World of The Pirates of Britannia. 

Ruth lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms, and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at a major international bank where she was a product/marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. Grab your favorite cup of tea, or an ale if you prefer, and join her heroes and heroines as they race across the pages to find their happily ever after.  Ruth hopes her stories are your next favorite adventures!

Social Media Links:

Website: https://ruthacasie.com/

Ruth’s Newsletter Signup:  http://ruthacasie.com/contact.html#newsletter       

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Amazon: https://amazon.com/author/ruthacasie   

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YouTube:  https://www.youtube.com/@Ruth-A-Casie

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Hearts Across Time ~ on Sale!

Everyone loves a good time travel and I just know you’ll love my special edition box set Hearts Across Time that’s currently on sale for only $0.99! That’s two full length novels (For All of Ever & Only For You) that includes the entire romance of my favorite characters ~ Katherine and Riorden.

Sometimes all you need is to just believe…

For All of Ever: Katherine Wakefield has dreamed and written of her knight in shining armor all her life until she and her three closest friends take a vacation to England. Yet, how could they have known they’d find themselves thrown back more than eight hundred years into the past? Riorden de Deveraux travels to Bamburgh answering the summons of King Henry. But nothing prepares him for the beautiful vision of a strangely clad ghost who first appears in his chamber. Centuries are keeping them apart until Time gives them a chance at finding love. Will the past of one consume what their future may hold, or will Time take the decision from them and hurdle Katherine forward to where she truly belongs?

Only For You: Katherine de Deveraux has it all but settling into her duties at Warkworth Castle is not easy & downright dangerous to her well-being. Consumed with memories of his father, Riorden must deal with his sire’s widow. Yet how could he know how far Marguerite will go to have the life she feels they were meant to live? Torn apart, Time becomes their true enemy while Marguerite continues her ploy to keep Riorden at her side. With all hope lost, will Katherine & Riorden find a way to save their marriage?

Buy Links for only $0.99:

Amazon US | Apple Books | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Books2ReadAmazon AU | Amazon BR | Amazon CA | Amazon DE | Amazon ES | Amazon FR | Amazon IN | Amazon IT | Amazon JP | Amazon MX | Amazon NL |  Amazon UK

First Kiss Friday with Cerise DeLand

Thanks for stopping by my blog and another excerpt for First Kiss Friday! My guest today is my friend Cerise DeLand who is celebrating her new release, Lord Ashley’s Beautiful Alibi. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Happy reading, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

Kane parted the leaves of the trees and squinted through the slits. 

The riders came into his view. Two horses and… 

Two…women!

Merde. Girls, they were! One buxom and raven-haired with breasts that jiggled as she trotted forward. Her friend, a flame-haired witch, was a slender reed with bright white flashing teeth.

He drew back into the shadows. 

They came up the road from Rueil. No villagers lived near Madame Bonaparte’s beloved house this far down the road. Bonaparte’s guards discouraged casual visitors or gawkers so near Malmaison. And his co-conspiraator Pascal should have taken out any strangers when first they entered the lane.

Kane was stumped. No one had passed him this morning. Certainly not these two. He would have noticed. They were too young, too carefree and too damn beautiful not to make a man drool. Why were they out so early?

He knew. He stilled. Their journey was nothing but a lark. They stayed at Malmaison and were either guests of Madame Bonaparte or that lady’s servants out for a quick jaunt. They were dressed in muddy riding boots and thin muslin shifts bunched up around their shapely thighs. Their derrieres were pressed to smooth leather and their chats were open to the slick…

Kane shook his head. Business, man, not pleasure!

“I will race you, Augustine.” The red-head circled her prancing horse around her friend.

“My aunt’s ruby ring says you lose, ma cherie.” The raven-haired girl chuckled, then tossed her mane of unbound black tresses over her shoulder. 

Kane wanted a handful of those windblown curls.

“Not this time!” Her friend galloped off down the lane toward Malmaison.

Raven did not care. She arched an elegant black brow and serenely sat atop her mount to stare at the departing figure of her friend.

A whistle, loud and clear, rent the air.

Damn. Who was that? No whistling now!

Raven cocked her ear. Lifted her pert chin.

Hell.

She danced her horse around and scanned the woods as she bent low to her horse. “Qu’est-ce que, Mirage?”

Rene, at Malmaison’s gate, gave the signal of the chuck, chuck, chuck of locusts. 

He warns me of what I already know.

Raven spun toward the sound. Her dark eyes went wide. Her body stilled.

Kane was already lunging at her horse and reaching for the reins.

She snatched them from him. 

But he had one arm around her waist, another attempting to cover her mouth. “No, you don’t,” he ground out and hauled her off her horse.

“Arrêt! Arrêt!” She swung her head to and fro and evaded his hand. She clung to her horse.

He tore her off and she was in his hold. The animal took off toward Malmaison. 

Shit. A riderless horse would alert them all!

He clamped her plush little body to his and struggled to get a good grip on something other than one of her breasts. She cursed him roundly in a smattering of loud gutter French. 

“Colorful,” he snorted as he reached around for his baguette and aimed it at her mouth. “Ferme la—!”

“Laisse-moi partir!” She mouthed the bread and spit it out in bits. “Fils de pute!”

He huffed and jammed another a piece of the old roll in her open mouth. “Silence!”

Her eyes blinked up at him. They were big green and gold orbs, and for a split-second, he opened his mouth, dumbstruck. But she wrestled him like a wounded cat, writhing and digging her heels into the soft muck of springtime soil—and he subdued her with arms she could not budge. 

She fought like one of Madame Josephine’s well-muscled guards. All limbs, all energy, she pummeled him when she could, but he wrapped her flush to him and dragged her further off the trail. Caught by branches and leaves, she cursed. Clamped in the vise of his arms, she stared up at him. Once more, for one stupid moment, he was mesmerized by the beauty before him. That was when she lifted her knee to aim for his balls.

But he squeezed her so tightly she fought for breath, and she surrendered to his power and went limp.

“You must stop,” he told her quietly in his very good French.

She choked and pushed more bread crumbs from her mouth with her tongue. Her long black hair curled around her face and shoulders, her green eyes popping with indignation. “Let me go,” she did not beg or plead, but simply ordered him. In English.

Good English. Without any French accent.

Who was she?

“Quiet.” He raised his head. He had to listen…but the woods were silent. Too silent.. 

“You…. What are you doing here?” She was scrambling away from him, but he hauled her back into this embrace.

“Be quiet. Let me—”

“No!” She pounded his chest, and he clamped her to him again. She was both angry and afraid. 

He understood. But she didn’t. He did not kill people. But she could not know that.

She opened her mouth to scream and he did the only thing he could to shut her up. He kissed her.

Her lips were everything a woman’s should be. Warm and supple, her breath sweet with mint and when he plunged his tongue inside, she let him. The fright drained out of her. She came into his arms like a lover should, eager and mewling. Compliant and dragging his collar closer so that she could kiss him more easily…And bit him!

Lord Ashley’s Beautiful Alibi
By Cerise DeLand

She was his mysterious Raven, an agent like him, searching for her missing friend. 

He pretended he was her lover. She became his alibi…and his only love.

Augustine Bolton lives amid the social whirl and treachery of the stylish court of Josephine and Napoleon Bonaparte. When Gus’s dearest friend, Amber, disappears, Gus must find her before the deputy chief of police  finds Amber and carts her off to his bed—or to la Force.

But Gus’s means are few and her own duties as an agent in Amber’s network mean she is also suspect. Gus needs help.

Kane Whittington is just the man for the job. 

He has worked for London merchant-cum-spymaster Scarlett Hawthorne for years and welcomes Scarlett’s call to build a large espionage network in Europe. His first task is to find the missing head of Scarlett’s espionage network.

The best person to help him is the lady’s best friend whom he’s never met. But when he sets eyes on ravishing Augustine Bolton in Josephine’s salon, Kane recognizes the black-haired beauty as the one he kissed years ago on the road to Malmaison during a botched abduction of Bonaparte.

Kane must persuade the beautiful Gus to allow him to help her. He suggests the cover for their escapade is simple: They show the gossipy Parisian court they enjoy a mad love affair. Thus, Gus gains an ally—and Kane acquires an alibi.But Gus’s ally is a darling man whose kindness thrills her. His alibi is a brave, beatiful woman he cannot give up. Can they find a way to fulfill their missions—and join together to claim their love for a lifetime?

Buy Link or read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited: https://amzn.to/4abIpwO

About the Author:

Cerise DeLand is the USA TODAY bestselling author who loves to write about dashing heroes and the sassy women they adore.

Known for her poetic elegance and accuracy of detail, she’s won awards for many of the more than 60 novels she’s written.

Her work has been nearly life-long! First published in 1991 by Kensington, then Pocket Books, later by St. Martin’s Press and independent presses, she is now published by DRAGONBLADE PUBLISHING. Plus her books have been monthly selections of the Doubleday Book Club and the Mystery Guild.

To research, she’s dived into the oldest texts and dustiest library shelves. She travels abroad taking good walking shoes, trusty notebooks and pens, plus a camera! She visits chateaux and country homes she loves to people with her own imaginary characters.

And at home every day? She cooks. Never dusts. (That can be a problem.) She goes swimming or pumps iron once a week and tries (desperately) to grow vegetables in her arid backyard in south Texas!

Find Cerise at:

Cerise DeLand’s Website: www.cerisedeland.com
Cerise DeLand’s Delicious Doings Blog: http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com
Cerise DeLand’s Amazon Author Page:
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0089DS2N2
Like her on Facebook: CeriseDeLandAuthor
Follow her on Twitter: @cerisedeland
BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cerise-deland
Cerise DeLand’s Delicious Newsletter! http://www.cerisedeland.com

Preorder Knight of Chaos!

I’m so excited to let everyone know that Knight of Chaos: The Knights of the Anarchy (Book Two) is now available for preorder for only $0.99 (or read for #FREE in Kindle Unlimited). I just know you’re going to love Theobald Norwood and Ingrid Seymour’s journey to finding love. I’ve tossed these two into the middle of a war for the throne and I loved how their story unfolded inside my head. I know you’ll enjoy it too! Yes… get ready for your newest book boyfriend, my lovelies!

In the chaos of war, can one knight defy the odds to find peace with the woman warrior he loves?

Sir Theobald Norwood finds himself embroiled in a mission of loyalty and love as he stands by Empress Matilda in her pursuit of the throne. As he and her army head to Winchester, he stumbles upon a mysterious woman named Mistress Ingrid Seymour, hiding in the woods with her own quest in mind. What starts as a test of her worthiness quickly transforms into a profound connection.

As they join forces on the battlefield, Theobald and Ingrid face not only the challenges of war but also the enemies lurking in the shadows. Ingrid’s identity is called into question, shaking the very foundation of her existence, while Theobald grapples with his own emotions. Amidst confusion, they must find a way to let love blossom and unite their hearts.

But with forces working against them, will Theobald and Ingrid be torn apart by the unpredictable tides of fate? Can they overcome their differences and trust one another, or will the mounting chaos consume their chances at happiness?

Join them on a captivating journey as their destinies intertwine, promises are tested, and a love that could defy the odds hangs in the balance.

Read Free in Kindle Unlimited or preorder now for $0.99 on Amazon:

Amazon US | Amazon AU | Amazon BR | Amazon CA | Amazon DE | Amazon ES | Amazon FR | Amazon IN | Amazon IT | Amazon JP | Amazon MX | Amazon NL | Amazon UK

First Kiss Friday with C.H. Admirand & a Giveaway!

Thanks for joining me here on my blog for another First Kiss Friday. My guest today is author C.H. Admirand who has a first kiss scene from The Duke’s Enforcer. Isn’t the cover just divine? Be sure to read to the end to be in the running for C.H.’s giveaway! Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies.

Excerpt:

Garahan was on his feet when the vicar entered the room. His head felt light and his stomach uneasy, but he would not give in to weakness—he was about to marry the woman who’d captured his heart with one glance.

The vicar cleared his throat and said, “Everything is in order, Garahan. Do you have any questions before I begin?”

“Nay. I’m ready to marry the lass.”

The vicar studied him intently but did not ask about his injuries. No doubt someone had filled him in ahead of time so he would not be shocked by Garahan’s appearance. Should he have asked O’Malley for a looking glass to see how much damage had been done to his face? Well, ’twas too late now.

“Ah, Miss Anderson.” The vicar beamed. “Please stand on Garahan’s left and we will begin.”

The vicar’s voice rose and fell as he read the words that would bind Garahan and the lass together in front of the viscount, the captain, O’Malley, and the others. His mind kept coming back to the problem he would be facing—keeping his lips and his hands to himself tonight…and until the lass was ready to trust him with more than his promise to protect her with his life. Hadn’t he already done that when he was knifed rescuing her from the boarding house—and again when he was jumped in the alley? Burke had sent word, confirming their suspicions—the thugs had been hired by the owners of the brothels connected with the boarding house, and the scheme luring young women to London from the countryside.

“Is there any objection as to why this couple should not be wed?”

The vicar paused too long to suit O’Malley, who spoke up. “Ye won’t get an argument from anyone here, vicar.”

The soft laughter that followed his cousin’s pronouncement relieved the tension in Garahan’s shoulders. He should have been focused completely on the vicar and his words—and not thinking about those that needed to be rounded up, convicted, and put behind bars. He leaned close to the woman standing beside him. “Lass, I—”

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

He turned, wobbled, and was steadied by O’Malley from behind and the viscount on his right. “Better make it quick, lass—I need to sit down.” Concern filled her gaze, and he said, “Not to worry. I’ll be kissing ye first.”

Hope replaced the worry in her eyes. She leaned toward him as he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. “Mo chroí,” he rasped. “Me heart.” Their mouths a breath apart, he murmured, “Mo ghrá—me love,” before pressing his lips to hers in a kiss as soft as the brush of a faerie’s wings.

The viscount was the first to offer his congratulations, then the captain added his. Garahan hated to ask for help, but his strength was waning. O’Malley must have been watching him closely, as he placed his arm beneath Garahan’s. “Best have a seat now, boy-o.”

Garahan nodded and let his cousin help him sit without jarring his ribs or shoulder overmuch. “Thank ye.”

“Me pleasure.” O’Malley grinned and turned to the bride. “Now then, Cousin Aimee.” He offered his arm and helped her to the chair beside Garahan. “We’ll be raising a glass to toast yer marriage and then will be leaving the two of ye alone.”

“When was this decided?” Garahan asked.

“When ye were busy arguing with me. Mrs. O’Toole thought it more expedient to toast yer marriage and then feed the others in the dining room while yerself and yer bride enjoy sharing yer first meal together as man and wife.”

Aimee reached for Garahan’s hand. “Thank you, O’Malley.”

“Call me Emmett, if ye don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Emmett. You have been more than kind to me from the moment we met.”

“’Tis just to remind ye that the O’Malleys aren’t as easily goaded into losing their tempers as the man you married—or the rest of the Garahans.”

Her laughter lightened Garahan’s heart.

O’Malley straightened, accepted a glass from Mrs. O’Toole, and raised it high. “To Darby and Aimee. May they always be as happy as they are at this moment”—he grinned at Garahan and added—“and have a dozen children with eyes the same soft blue of his bride…and tempers to match the groom!”

Garahan felt his wife tremble and bent his head to assure her, “I’m in no hurry, but would settle for a babe as pretty as her ma, with a temperament to match.”

He saw the uncertainty in her eyes and sighed. “I’m a patient man, lass.” Nodding to her glass, he urged, “Have a sip, I’m thinking Mrs. O’Toole will have something wonderful prepared for us to eat.”

The others laughingly repeated O’Malley’s toast, offered their own well wishes, and followed Mrs. O’Toole from the room.

The concern was back in his bride’s eyes, and he wanted to erase it. “I thought they’d never leave.” When she remained silent, he added, “Ye’ve been given a reprieve from what I know is at the root of yer worries from the lieutenant, in the form of an order not to share me bed tonight. Is me word not to rush ye enough to calm yer fears, lass?”

“It isn’t that,” she whispered. She lifted her chin and met his one-eyed gaze. “You could have married someone worthy of you, Darby. You did not have to saddle yourself with a woman with no prospects and a reputation damaged beyond redemption.”

“I can see it’s going to take more than a few days to convince ye that I meant what I said. Ye have me heart whether ye believe me or not. Once given, I cannot accept it back. Though ye may not love me—and wish to leave me—know that ye’ll be carrying me heart with ye wherever ye go.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “My heart refused to listen to my head when you swept me into your arms and away from Purgatory. You hold my heart too. If you decide I am not worth the wait—”

His gentle kiss interrupted her. He was encouraged when her lips softened beneath his. Careful not to reopen the split on his lip, he ended the kiss, watching her eyelashes flutter as she opened her eyes. “Accept that ye have me love now and always. I may not be easy to live with while I heal, but never doubt me heart again, lass.”

“I won’t. I know how important it is not to put off sealing our union. As soon as you are well enough—”

“Lass… Do ye not realize that I’m fully capable of bedding ye right now?”

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “But you’re severely injured, and the doctor said—”

“That part of me did not suffer any damage and is ready, willing, and able—but I gave me word to the lieutenant, as ye did. We’ll wait. I’ll have a full night’s sleep, then will no doubt be receiving his blessing.”

THE DUKE’S ENFORCER (The Duke’s Guard, Bk 8)
By C.H. Admirand

“Ye’re under me protection now, lass. ‘Tis yers, whether ye accept it or not.”

The Duke’s Guard: The men in black who have sworn an oath to protect the Duke of Wyndmere and his family from enemies that would stop at nothing to discredit and destroy him!

Darby Garahan’s latest assignment, to uncover the source behind the threat to kill the duke’s brother-in-law, is complicated when the angel of the streets asks for his help. He must rescue a young woman who has been lured to London with the promise of employment—only to end up at a boarding house rumored to be a front for a brothel.

Aimee Anderson answers an advert for a position at a milliner’s shop in London, taking charge of her life after a lord compromised her on the way to Gretna Green a few years earlier, leaving her stranded at an inn.

The handsome-as-sin Irishman who rescues Aimee reminds her that the past does not have to define the future if she has the courage to make a change.

Rescuing her is just the beginning. He must convince her that she is not damaged goods in order to gain her trust and win her heart and her hand in marriage.

Danger stalks in the night, but it will have to challenge The Duke’s Enforcer. Nothing short of dying will deter him from his duty to protect the duke and his family!

Read Free in Kindle Unlimited!

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CVZ5WQY7

The Duke’s Guard
Book 1 – The Duke’s Sword
Book 2 – The Duke’s Protector
Book 3 – The Duke’s Shield
Book 4 – The Duke’s Dragoon
Book 5 – The Duke’s Hammer
Book 6 – The Duke’s Defender
Book 7 – The Duke’s Saber
Book 8 – The Duke’s Enforcer
Book 9 – The Duke’s Mercenary
Book 10 – The Duke’s Rapier
Book 11 – The Duke’s Man-at-Arms
Book 12 – The Duke’s Lance
Book 13 – The Duke’s Champion
Book 14 – The Duke’s Sharpshooter
Book 15 – The Duke’s Cavalier
Book 16 – The Duke’s Blade

About the Author:

I write Historical & Contemporary Romance featuring: Hardheaded Heroes & Feisty Heroines.

I fell in love at first sight, when I was seventeen, with the man who will hold my heart forever. DJ and I were married for 41 wonderful years until my darling lost his battle with cancer. We have three grown children—one son-in-law, two grandsons, two rescue dogs, and two rescue grand-cats and one grand-dog.

My Hardheaded Heroes and Feisty Heroines rarely listen to me. In fact, I think they enjoy messing with my plans for them. BUT if there is one thing I’ve learned in dealing with my characters for the past 29 years, it is to listen to them!  My heroes always have a few of DJ’s best qualities: his honesty, his integrity, his compassion for those in need, and his killer broad shoulders.

I have always used family names in my books and love adding bits and pieces of my ancestors and ancestry in them, too. I write about the things I love most: My Family, my Irish and English Ancestry, Baking and Gardening.

  C.H.’s Social Media Links:

Website: https://www.chadmirand.com/

Amazon:BookBub: https://www.amazon.com/stores/C.-H.-Admirand/author/B001JPBUMC

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/c-h-admirand

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/CHAdmirandAuthor

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/212657.C_H_Admirand

Dragonblade Publishing: https://www.dragonbladepublishing.com/team/c-h-admirand/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/c.h.admirand/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AdmirandH

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRSXBeqEY52VV3mHdtg5fXw

C.H. is giving away an eBook copy of The Duke’s Enforcer. To enter, please answer this question: What is your favorite trope? Winner will be announced on Monday. Good luck!

First Kiss Friday with Jude Knight

Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. Anytime I can have my dear friend Jude Knight on my blog is a very good day. Jude not only has a freebie for your reading pleasure but a new release coming out next week in the Lyon’s Den Connected World. I just love this world… not only reading these fabulous books but also writing them! Read on for an excerpt from Jude’s contribution: Hook, Lyon and Sinker! Happy reading, my lovelies, and enjoy! Take it away, Jude.

This excerpt is from Hook, Lyon and Sinker. It is right at the end of the book, and brings my couple to their hard-won happy ending and their new beginning, sealed with a kiss.

Excerpt:

Here she came, on Somerton’s arm, glorious in shades of blue. Angel didn’t see the detail of her clothing. Only her beautiful and beloved face, glowing as she approached him down the aisle.

In moments, he handed one crutch to Titan, and put out a hand to Laurel.

After that, the wedding took on the quality of a dream, with the most solid point of reality his hand holding Laurel’s. He must have said his vows at the right time, and he certainly put his ring on Laurel’s finger, for it was there later, when they were in the carriage.

The moment he remembered most clearly was when he and Laurel were presented to the congregation as Lord and Lady Findlater.

Then the service was over. They signed the register, and made their way down the aisle. Laurel made nothing of his crutches, holding his arm above the elbow and moving slowly with him. Here were some of his fellow musicians. There some of the officers he had served with. Mrs. Dove Lyons was at the back of the church with several others from the Den. On the other side of the church, he recognized Laurel’s friends from the incident at the Park.

Outside waited a phaeton, decorated in ribbons and flowers. “For you,” Somerton said.

Angel, who had been hoping for a closed carriage in which he could kiss his bride, smiled his thanks and tried to look as if he meant it.

Afterwards, there was the wedding breakfast to get through, though at least he could sit down and get off his feet. It was nice to receive good wishes from so many people who actually meant them, and Somerton’s cook had performed miracles. Angel smiled so much his jaw ached. He had never been more pleased than when Laurel whispered, “When do you think we can leave?”

Angel beckoned Titan over. “Can you ask my carriage driver if my wife’s luggage has been loaded, and tell him we are ready to leave?” he asked, keeping it quiet. Cousin Bertram’s carriage, in point of fact. But he had accepted the use of it for the next fortnight, just as he had accepted the use of Somerton’s seaside cottage.

Titan nodded, a twist of his lips suggesting amusement at Angel’s proud recital of the words “my wife”. A few minutes later, he reentered the drawing room and nodded.

“I’ll go out as if looking for a convenience,” Angel whispered to Laurel. “After a few minutes, ask your mother if you can have a private word. Then we’ll take her outside to say goodbye.”

Laurel nodded, and the plan worked perfectly. Or it would have, if Laurel’s mother had not burst into tears and needed a moment to compose herself. Before the pair of newlyweds could climb into the carriage, Somerton came out to the door, saw them, and called back into the house, “They’re leaving!”

So, another ten minutes went into good wishes, jokes, and advice. Perhaps they would have been there all day if his wonderful wife had not taken things into her competent hands. “We are leaving now, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for being with us to celebrate our marriage. Thank you for your kind wishes. And farewell.”

She set herself for the door, and refused to address them again. Angel followed her example, but with a grin at their friends and family. Once he was aboard, the groom closed the door, and they were off. At last.

He could not wait any longer. He pulled down the window blinds and said to Laurel, “May I kiss you, my love?”

“I thought you would never ask,” said Laurel, and came readily into his arms.

Their lips met. It was everything Angel had imagined and more. And as they left London for the south coast, neither of them was aware of the noise of the city fading about them or the countryside passing them by. Inside the coach, they had far more interesting things to discover.

Hook, Lyon and Sinker
By Jude Knight
Release Date: March 20th
Preorder for $0.99

When Lady Laureline Barker asks Mrs. Dove Lyons to find her a husband, she does not expect one of her choices to be the man she admired years ago, when she was still a schoolgirl—the man who rescued her from drowning. He is also a war hero, famed for trading his own freedom and health for the safety of others.

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Hook-Lyon-Sinker-Lyons-Den-ebook/dp/B0CSF79RMD

Meet Jude

Jude always wanted to be a novelist. She started in her teens, but life kept getting in the way. Years passed, and with them dozens of unfinished manuscripts. The fear grew. What if she tried, failed, and lost the dream forever? The years since 2014 have brought 17 novels, 16 novella, 6 volumes of short stories, a number of awards, and hundreds of positive reviews. The dream is alive.

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First Kiss Friday with Ruth A. Casie

Welcome to another First Kiss Friday on my blog. I’m so happy you stopped by. My guest today is Ruth A Casie who is back with an excerpt from Knight of Runes. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Take it away, Ruth!

Setting the Stage:

In Knight of Runes, Rebeka’s journey through time lands her amidst the ancient walls of Fayne Manor in England circa 1605. Welcomed by Doward, the wandering tinker, Rebeka discovers that her only chance of returning to the 21st century rests in the hands of Lord Arik, the revered Druid Grand Master and owner of the estate. Amidst the dynamics of the manor’s social fabric, Rebeka finds herself ensnared with the envious Lady Katherine, Lord Arik’s sister-in-law, who views her as a rival for his affections. As suspicion and uncertainty swirl around her, Rebeka must dispel Lord Arik’s doubts about her loyalty, all while trying to find her way home. And in a moment that transcends the boundaries of time, their worlds converge in a tender and unforeseen first kiss, sparking a passion that defies the constraints of both time and destiny.

Excerpt:

The meal over, everyone gathered on the torch-lit terrace to enjoy the entertainment. Off in the field, a hulking pile of wood was a dark shadow awaiting its moment. The echoing strains of a flute and mandolin played in the background. Rebeka took a seat and reveled in the familiar feeling of sitting around a campfire.

“Here, Uncle Arik. Sing us a song,” Skylar asked.

Arik sings? She couldn’t imagine that. He was too cold and controlling to be emotional, although, after today, she saw a very different side of the man.

He tuned the mandolin.

“Arik, all the court enjoys when you sing Greensleeves,” Lady Beatrice said.

“For you, m’lady,” he said with a nod.

His phrasing and emotion made the words come alive. Rebeka found his rich baritone soothed her. He encouraged everyone to join in the chorus. At the end, he handed the mandolin to Rebeka.

“Here, it’s your turn.”

“I don’t know what to sing.”

“Anything but Lord Randal,” he said. They both laughed.

“Sing the boat song,” Arik said.

She found it impossible not to return his disarming smile and was surprised he remembered the song. “All right.” She played the introduction and began singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat. Logan played the flute, and Skylar and Aubrey got everyone singing the round. There was a demand for more choruses. Rebeka graciously complied and was surprised when Stuart and Arik added their voices.

“Rebeka,” Elfrida said when the song ended. “Sing me a love song.” Everyone laughed. “One of your own choosing will do fine.”

Rebeka’s repertoire was limited when it came to seventeenth-century love songs. She silently ticked off lyrics and eliminated one song after another. She decided on Ebb Tide by the Righteous Brothers, a love song filled with imagery and emotions but without any dated references. She stared at the mandolin. The melancholy song came from her heart. When she finished, the air was deadly silent.

She lifted her head.

Arik’s gaze bored into her. Still, under his scrutiny, she passed the mandolin to the next person. She took a deep breath and shook her head to rid herself of the trance, but she ached—for Arik.

“Beautiful,” Elfrida said. “You have my thanks.”

“Step back. Make room.” Several men moved the benches to the side.

The musicians began and played a lively dance. Everyone took a partner while Rebeka listened and watched.

Doward grabbed her and brought her into the dance circle with Logan, Stuart, Marcus, and their partners. One dance led to another. She danced with Alfred and other villagers. After a while, she lost track of the dances she was in. Tired and thirsty, she strolled to the table to get some mead.

“You seem to be having a good time.” Arik handed her a cup.

“It’s a wonderful festival.”

When the music started up again, Arik held out his hand in a silent request. She looked at him and held out her own. Again, he started making slow circles on her wrist. It must be the mead, the heat, the excitement. Her heart began to pound.

They took their position, and she was startled. This dance was not a country dance. It was the volta, the precursor to the waltz. The dance’s intricate steps, shocking lifts, and very close contact scandalized the first Queen Elizabeth. Only a few of the guests participated. Only a few knew the dance.

Rebeka and her Renaissance Studies class studied the dance, and it survives as a folk dance in France. In three-quarter time, the dance contained a series of intricate hops, steps, leaps, and turns. The scandal, also part of her class studies, was related to the closeness of the partners. In order to assist his partner with her high jumps, he had to hold her close with his left arm around her waist and their thighs touching. The woman,, in turn,, held her partner’s shoulder and leaped into the air. With the help of his thigh and free hand, he raised and turned her effortlessly, to the amazement of everyone.

Lost in the music, her body swayed, and she reveled in Arik’s arm around her, his hands touching her. It was a heady feeling, better than champagne. The music ended to loud cheers. Arik led her off the dance floor. They stood by themselves. He bent, lifted her hand, and kissed it without taking his eyes from hers. Her breath caught. The magic of the festival locked in his gaze.

“Lord Arik,” Katherine interrupted. “Sir Stuart is waiting for you in the hall.”

Arik dropped Rebeka’s hand, but his gaze held her. A few heartbeats passed before he bowed and left to meet Stuart.

Rebeka stood motionless, staring at Arik’s retreating back. His muscles rippled as he wove his way through the crowd. He hesitated and glanced back at her, then with a gentle nod and an arresting smile, he continued on to meet Sir Stuart.

She didn’t miss Katherine’s glare and didn’t care. Rebeka picked up a goblet of mead and drank thirstily, trying to quench the fire low in her belly.

As evening fell, the time for the bonfire grew near. Stuart and Arik led the way, each with a firebrand. Rebeka watched and cheered from the terrace when both men threw their torches onto the pile, and it burst into flames.

Only the adults remained, the children bundled off to bed sometime earlier. More barrels of mead and beer came out, and the revelers danced around the fire. Slowly, couples embraced, laughed, and wandered off. As the crowd thinned, Rebeka helped Jeannie clear away the remnants of the feast, then returned to the bonfire. She sat, gazing into the blue flames.

“Woman.” The sultry tone came from behind her.

She spun to find Arik. The reflection of the fire blazed in his eyes. For a few brief moments, with their gazes locked on each other, nothing else existed. All she heard was her heart beating. All she saw was him. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth. Slowly, he turned it over and kissed her palm.

Her lids fluttered closed. Shivers raced up her spine and turned into molten heat radiating through her.

Out of nowhere, Katherine appeared. “Arik. Come to me. Our guests are getting ready to bid us good eve.”

The passion leached out of his eyes.

“M’lord, duty calls,” Rebeka whispered. She was determined not to let Katherine know how she ached.

He handed her a goblet of wine from a nearby tray and took one for himself. “To duty, m’lady,” he said, only a trace of irony in his words.

Arik’s calm body belied the anger in his eyes as he turned toward Katherine, but it faded as the shadow of his friend came up behind her.

“Yes, Arik,” Stuart said. “Come bid us good eve so I can take my wife to bed.”

Arik smiled and put the goblet down. “I wouldn’t want to come between you and your wife, Stuart. I’ll be along in a moment.” He took Katherine’s arm and followed his friends into the hall.

Rebeka wondered whether it was midnight and, therefore, the appropriate bewitching hour for any good spell to be broken. If she were lucky, she’d be able to hold the magic of the day a bit longer. She walked around the terrace, through the gate, to the cottage beyond.

* * *

Katherine,” Arik said as they walked into the Manor. “I will say this once and only once. These are not our guests. They’re my guests. You’re here because you’re family, and I’m obligated to see to your well-being. Do I make myself clear? What I do and with whom I do it is none of your concern. Do you understand? Because if you do not, I’ll be happy to return you to your family.” He would not tolerate any more of her interference or her toxic attitudes about Rebeka or anyone else.

“Lord Arik, I’ve only tried to help you and the children in your time of need. I only seek to protect you and yours from wicked outside influences.”

He saw fear, stark and vivid, glitter in her eyes. He’d never been this angry at her. He’d certainly never before threatened to send her back. “Leave me, Katherine,” he commanded.

She turned silently and retreated to her room, a sulky look on her face.

Arik spent the next hour drinking mead and sorting things out.

Logan’s been right about Katherine all along. It was so easy to let her take over what he couldn’t face doing himself. He stood on the terrace, watching his men tend the bonfire while it burned itself out. In the veil of smoke, he saw Rebeka’s penetrating violet eyes. The bonfire was no match for the fire of desire that claimed every part of him. He finished the mead and headed to the cottage.

What is the woman’s purpose? Is she like Katherine?

He saw her standing in front of the cottage door, staring up at the clear sky with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Do you always come out at this time to gaze at the sky?”

She turned and smiled as he joined her on the small porch. “It is beautiful, but no, I don’t come out here often.” A gentle sigh escaped her lips. “I simply didn’t want the evening to end.” She placed her hand on his chest. “It was a wonderful festival. Thank you.”

He covered her hand with his and started his campaign. He took her eyes first. Once secured, he moved his initiative forward. He put his hand behind her head and drew her close to him.

Her tongue flashed out as she moistened her lips.

The movement tantalized him, so he ran his thumb over her full lower lip.

The intimate touch burned him like a brand.

He focused on her eyes and the silver flecks that sparkled in the moonlight. He memorized her face, devouring the image of her. Mine, was all he heard, beating like a drum from some deep dark place. Mine.

Her hair fell softly around her shoulders, and a gentle wave escaped to cover her right eye. With his forefinger, he gently pushed the dark brown veil away and hooked the hair behind her ear. His hand lingered there. Her hair soft like fine silk. He crushed it in his hand as he brought her head to his chest in a gentle caress. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet torture as her body melted into his. Mine.

Reluctantly, he released her, and she moved away, the soft gown that hugged her body, accentuating every curve. His eyes gravitated to the large sapphire in its resting place.

“There have been several times during this evening that I’ve envied that gem.” His voice sounded husky even to him. His arms circled her.

She looked down at the sapphire, then up at him with a devastating smile. “I’ll have to ask Jeannie if I can borrow it again.” A blush painted her face a soft pink.

He pulled her close, his heart pounding an erratic rhythm. The anticipation was almost unbearable. “Sweet Rebeka, make me immortal with your kiss.” He covered her mouth with his, tasting the mead still on her breath, and then he pulled away and gazed into her eyes. The very air around them sizzled.

She stared at him.

“‘Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies! Come, give me my soul again.’”

“You surprise me, quoting Christopher Marlowe,” she whispered so softly he could barely hear. “I wouldn’t think you a romantic.”

“It seems there is much about me you don’t know.” He raised one eyebrow with a flourish that made her giggle. He took a seat in the lone chair on the porch and gently pulled her into his lap. Tenderly, he drew her closer and seared her with another kiss, this one long and deep. Her lips parted for him and let the tip of his tongue advance, a small victory. He deepened the kiss, and her arms around him tightened.

He lifted his head and nibbled on her earlobe. A soft moan escaped her lips. With a shudder, she held on to him, stretching to place kisses up his neck.

It was a delicious sensation. When she reached his lips, he knew he was lost. He took her face in both his hands and looked at her passion-drenched eyes and swollen, bruised lips. His decision made, he nestled her head to his chest and tried to will the storm to subside. He stroked her hair as the charged air settled, and a warm breeze caressed them both. After several minutes, her deep breathing told him she had fallen asleep. He sat for a few minutes and enjoyed holding her. He would tell the king he would not give her back.

“Beka. It’s time to wake.” The short form of her name slipped out, like an endearment.

“Hmm.” She snuggled deeper into his arms.

He brushed the hair out of her eyes and stood with her in his arms. He pushed the cottage door open, laid her on the bed and covered her with the blanket.

“Pleasant dreams,” he whispered in her ear. He closed the door behind him. Whistling, he crossed the road to the Manor.

Knight of Runes
By Ruth A. Casie

Rebeka Tyler, a distinguished expert in medieval and Renaissance studies and a casual martial arts enthusiast, never envisioned herself as a warrior. However, thrust into the 17th century, she finds herself caught in the conflict between two powerful druid masters. While deciphering ancient runes and unraveling a family secret to secure her return, Rebeka engages in battles for survival against in a society she knows well from her studies, as well as against the malevolent druid, Bran.

Amidst the struggle, emotional complexities arise with Lord Arik, the druid knight, as long-buried truths about their shared past come to light. The key to triumph lies not in individual efforts but in a partnership between Rebeka and Arik. Yet, this alliance comes at a steep price – her heart and, if fate favors her, her rightful future. For Rebeka, this journey isn’t a mere journey into the past but a return to where she truly belongs. In this riveting tale, the boundaries between love, destiny, and sacrifice blur as Rebeka navigates a world of ancient mysteries and profound connections.

Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2C73zRV

About the Author:

RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical adventures from the shores of medieval Scotland to the cobblestone streets of Regency London. Within the pages, you’ll discover ‘edge-of-your-seat’ suspense, mind-boggling drama, and heart-melting emotions featuring strong women and the men who deserve them. She currently has four historical series: The Druid Knight, The Stelton Legacy, and The Ladies of Sommer-by-the-Sea, and she participates in The Connected World of The Pirates of Britannia. 

Ruth lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms, and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at a major international bank where she was a product/marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. Grab your favorite cup of tea, or an ale if you prefer, and join her heroes and heroines as they race across the pages to find their happily ever after.  Ruth hopes her stories are your next favorite adventures!

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