Sandra Jones's Blog

I'll be the first to admit I have a thang for a Southern bad boy. When a handsome man with a drawl gives me a wink, I melt. Add a tan and a nice physique a'la Matthew McConaughey and I'm a complete goner.


My husband and I recently watched the movie Mud, one of our favorites, for a second time. The film stars McConaughey and is set in the Mississippi Delta just like HER WICKED CAPTAIN, my first River Rogues novel. I couldn't help being reminded of my story's swarthy, country bad-boy hero, Rory. In the movie, McConaughey is a desperate criminal in love with the wrong woman (played by Reese Witherspoon).  It's a great flick with lots of beautiful scenery. The River Rogues series follows frontiersmen who live on rivers during the 1800s. Rory, the first hero, is a riverboat captain and gambler...and yes, he definitely has Southern swag and charm!

This month, I'm preparing for the release of my next River Rogues novel HIS MOST WANTED (Nov 2015) with a giveaway on Goodreads. I'm giving away a SIGNED copy of the first book in the series, HER WICKED CAPTAIN, to one lucky Goodreads reader. 

I hope you'll visit Goodreads and enter the contest. Then add HER WICKED CAPTAIN to your to-be-read list, as well as the sequel, HIS MOST WANTED. 

Happy reading, y'all!

-- Sandra

Knight of RaptureBlurb: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.
Excerpt: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 towards 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 towards 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 towards him as far as she could. The tips of their fingers brushed. In a burst of effort he Hecaught 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 towards 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.
Buy LinksAmazon: http://amzn.to/1CtC7adBN: http://bit.ly/1McK4oCKOBO: http://bit.ly/1NaqW7QiBook:  http://apple.co/1M5o92x

Today's Medieval Monday spotlight is on author Kim Iverson Headlee and her latest, King Arthur's Sister. Enjoy an excerpt!

SYNOPSIS 
Morgan le Fay, 6th-century Queen of Gore and the only major character not killed off by Mark Twain in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, vows revenge upon the Yankee Hank Morgan. She casts a spell to take her to 1879 Connecticut so she may waylay Sir Boss before he can travel back in time to destroy her world. But the spell misses by 300 miles and 200 years, landing her in the Washington, D.C., of 2079, replete with flying limousines, hovering office buildings, virtual-reality television, and sundry other technological marvels.

Whatever is a time-displaced queen of magic and minions to do? Why, rebuild her kingdom, of course—two kingdoms, in fact: as Campaign Boss for the reelection of American President Malory Beckham Hinton, and as owner of the London Knights world-champion baseball franchise.

Written as though by the old master himself, King Arthur’s Sister in Washington’s Court by Mark Twain as channeled by Kim Iverson Headlee offers laughs, love, and a candid look at American society, popular culture, politics, baseball...and the human heart.

BUY LINKS:
Amazon Kindle:
US | UK | CA | AU | BR | DE | ES | FR | IN | IT | JP | MX | NL | 

EPUB format for:
Nook | iPad/iPhone | Kobo | Smashwords 

EXCERPT:
(from Chapter XIV: Defend the Banner!)

The wench’s smile looked indulgent, if a bit saddened. “Queen Morgan, may I offer an observation?”

“Pray, proceed, Darla, as I seem to have paid for it.”

“This is about a man—the dishy one you’re always coming in here with.”

“Brilliant. Yes, the dishy one. Dishy, and treacherous.” I took a long pull of bitters.

“Lor’ love ye, madame; but all men are treacherous! If you’re lucky, that’s all he is.”

I reflected, through another draught, upon this spot of rough wisdom. Of all the men I had ever known, biblically or not, in this century or any other, the only man I could not label as “treacherous” was Sir Galahad, and we all know what happened to him. For the couple of you who might not be privy to the story: in brief, Sir Galahad drank from the Holy Grail and fell down dead, reportedly because his soul was so pure that Our Lord God bustled him straightaway to heaven. The fact that Sir Galahad had always acted so damned self-righteous that his Grail-hunting companions had wearied of his holier-than-thou ways probably had nothing whatever to do with his demise. I said:

“You need his love… and he needs yours.”

“I have treachery aplenty in my life, Darla.” Free agents, not-free agents, other players, managers, coaches… the list seemed endless. “I do not need more from Sandy Carter.”

“But you do need his love.”

I shook my head. “With love like that…”

She was not listening, but had looked toward the line of tall windows fronting the street, across which arched the words “nnI dleiftuO” and, in a revolving pattern of white, blue, and red tube-lights, “NEPO.” I would have taken umbrage at the offense—the server’s, not the fact that the words in the windows appeared backward to my vantage—but I had imbibed too much beer to care.

Darla said, “You need his love… and he needs yours. Look.”

We're so glad summer is here, and (maybe) the rain has slacked off for a bit! 

The beautiful print copies of HER WICKED CAPTAIN (The River Rogues, Book 1) have finally arrived, so I'm ready to celebrate with a little giveaway! You can enter to win one of two SIGNED copies on Goodreads in a contest that ends tomorrow (June 10) OR you can enter to win simply by being one of our awesome newsletter subscribers! 

Here's the link to the Goodreads giveaway:



 

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    Goodreads Book Giveaway
 

   

       
   

   

     

          Her Wicked Captain
     
     

          by Sandra Jones
     

     

         
            Giveaway ends June 10, 2015.
         
         
            See the giveaway details
            at Goodreads.
         
     
   
   


      Enter to Win




And if you haven't signed up for my newsletter, you can fix that here, where we do monthly contests, exclusive excerpts, and more.

Enjoy!

--Sandra

I hope you all are enjoying these Medieval Monday excerpts as much as I am!  Today's special guest is the wonderful Barbara Bettis with her latest, The Heart of the Phoenix, and doesn't it look gorgeous. Enjoy!
Some call him a ruthless mercenary; she calls him the knight of her heart
Memories  Lady Evelynn’s childhood hero is home—bitter, hard, tempting as sin. And haunted by secrets. A now-grown Evie offers friendship, but Sir Stephen's cruel rejection crushes her, and she resolves to forget him. Yet when an unexpected war throws them together, she finds love isn’t so easy to dismiss. If only the king hadn’t betrothed her to another.

 Can be cruelSir Stephen lives a double life while he seeks the treacherous outlaws who murdered his friends. Driven by revenge, he thinks his heart is closed to love. His childhood shadow, Lady Evie, unexpectedly challenges that belief. He rebuffs her, but he can’t forget her, although he knows she’s to wed the king’s favorite.
And deadlyWhen his drive for vengeance leads to Evie’s kidnapping, Stephen must choose between retribution and the love he’s denied too long. Surely King John will see reason. Convict the murderers; convince the king. Simple. Until a startling revelation threatens everything.
EXCERPT:“I don’t believe you heard me, Sir Stephen.” Evie’s words dripped honey. “I’m going home on orders of my brother. If the travelers Davy were to join haven’t appeared, then he can accompany me.” She shot a glance toward the youth, deep in conversation with the maid.
The back of Stephen’s neck tingled, and he clenched his hands. God’s blood, she made him so angry he longed to grab those soft arms and shake some sense into her.
 “You are not remaining at the monastery, and you are not traveling to England.” His words came out in a growl. He stepped forward, and she tilted back her head to meet him eye to eye. “Must I tie you to that horse?”
She leaned in. “Just you try, Sir Stephen-the-Bully.”
He glared and crossed his arms against his chest, daring her to continue.
“Do as you think you must.” She echoed his stance, her crossed arms pushing her plump breasts higher.
Not that he noticed, blast her.
“I vow I will return the moment I’m free,” she added. “You have no authority over my movements, for you are no relative of mine.”
“And I thank God for it. How Henry has put up with you all these years I do not know. A moretroublesome, contentious wi...woman I’ve never seen.”
“Did you call me a witch?”~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Buy Links:  Amazon:http://amzn.to/1vSZgLF     

Welcome to another Medieval Monday! Today we're sharing an excerpt from Jenna Jaxon's latest, BELOVEDS. Enjoy!
BLURB: Passion never dies.Lady Alyse Braedon frets over her renewed passion for Sir Geoffrey Longford, her first love. They have pledged their hearts to one another, despite the fact that both are recently widowed. Alyse worries that she has not properly mourned Thomas and cannot think herself as true wife to Geoffrey until she puts her feelings for her first husband to rest.And then Thomas unaccountably appears in her bedroom. She is stunned and confused. When he begins to make love to her, however, she joyfully surrenders herself to his familiar caresses and expert ministrations…until Geoffrey arrives.Faced with the dilemma of wanting two lovers, Alyse simply cannot choose–until Thomas suggests she doesn’t have to.  Instead he and Geoffrey will share her. The scandalous proposition awakens new hungers within her. Can she allow herself to abandon all she’s been taught a proper woman should resist, and find pleasure with both her beloveds?EXCERPT:  Alyse struggled to open her eyes, though the heavy lids fought against her.The bed dipped as someone sat beside her. Good. Thank goodness. Geoffrey had returned. Although she would swear it had not been he who had spoken.A soft hand cupped her face, and she pressed her cheek against it, luxuriating in its warmth. She smiled and her eyes fluttered open at last.The man seated on the bed had shoulder-length honey-blond hair and warm, beguiling brown eyes. He also defied fashion and wore a thin mustache and beard. His eyes brightened when he noticed she was awake and his mouth turned up in the lazy smile she had come to know so very well.“Thomas.” The name came out a croak. Holy Father, had she conjured him with her guilt and longing? She shrank back into the pillows.His smile widened and he caressed her, running one long finger along her jaw. “Aye, sweet Alyse. ’Tis I. Do you feel better now, my love?”“Better?” She must be dying to see such an apparition. Or mayhap she was already dead and in heaven.“Aye. You do not shiver as you did a moment ago. I hoped that meant you felt warmer.” He picked up her hand and kissed the knuckles.Warmth flowed through her, soothing her, making her body tingle with that single touch of his lips.“Is it really you?” Strength welled within her and she struggled to sit up.“As ever I was.” He smiled, his gaze sweeping down her body. His eyes darkened with the desire she remembered well.“Oh, Thomas.” She threw her arms around him, sighing when they embraced the hard-muscled chest she had lain upon so often. “I thought you dead, my love. Did I but dream?”“Shhh, my sweet. I am here now.” He stroked her head then pulled it back to peer into her face. “I will always be with you, love.” He sank his mouth onto hers, and she melted at the touch of his insistent lips.

Like coming home.

I've featured our guest author for today's Medieval Monday once before, but this book definitely deserves repeating! Read on for an excerpt of Viking Flame:


Viking Flame –
Prequel to Viking Fire by Andrea R. Cooper

Bram has agreed to marry an Irish nobleman’s daughter in exchange for land and his services fighting with the Laird Liannon’s clan against rival Irishmen. However, Bram’s intended does not stir his heart. Not like the Laird’s daughter, Kaireen. 

Somehow, he must not only convince the Laird to amend his marriage contract, but win the heart of the stubborn feisty Kaireen. 


Excerpt: Near the beach, the man quit rowing and yanked out a knife. Bram didn’t move. “You go against your Captain’s orders t—”“You made it to shore. That’s all we’s promised.” He spat at Bram’s boots. “No one said anything about you living afterwards.” When he dove forward, Bram ducked to the side and snatched the sailor’s arm, pinning it to his side. When the sailor slung with his free arm, Bram increased the pressure until the man was on his knees.“Cease, or I will break your arm.” If it wasn’t for his pledge to Morga, he’d have snapped the man’s arm already. Once his contract was signed with the Laird, then he’d be free to fight in Ireland—or at least against other Vikings and rival Irishmen. The man continued to struggle, “Or perhaps a leg as well? What will your Captain say if you return without your weapon and injured? Will he be merciful and allow you to recover or throw you to the sharks?”“Heathen scum!” He twisted his body to escape Bram’s grip. As he did, Bram snapped the man’s wrist backward and the first mate let out a howl before the blade came closer to Bram’s chest. “Now, hand me the knife.” When the man glared at him, he increased pressure on the bent wrist. “Or this heathen might do worse so that not even the sharks would want you.”The first mate gulped and released his hold of the knife. Bram broke his hold and snatched the blade out of the air before it hit the water. “Tell your Captain, I will not forget his hospitality nor will any of my eight brothers.”The man paled. “What brings you to our island? To rape our women and pillage our churches?”“No.” Bram rose and tucked the small blade into his boot. “To find my bride.”
Buy Link - Amazon Onlyhttp://amzn.com/B00U1OLDQU

I love introducing new medieval authors. Today we're spotlighting Carmen Stefanescu's latest: Shadows of the Past
Read on for an excerpt!


                      Shadows of the Past
                      Carmen Stefanescu

Publisher: Wild Child Publishing
Genre: paranormal/light romance/light historical/light horror. Blurb
Anne's relationship with her boyfriend Neil has disintegrated. After a two-year separation, they pack for a week vacation in hopes of reconciling. But fate has other plans for them.
The discovery of a bejeweled cross and ancient human bones opens a door to a new and frightening world--one where the ghost of a medieval nun named Genevieve will not let Anne rest. This new world threatens not only to ruin Anne and Neil's vacation but to end all hopes of reconciliation as Anne feels compelled to help free Genevieve's soul from its torment.
Can Anne save her relationship and help Genevieve find her eternal rest?
A touching, compelling story of tragedy, loss and the power of endless love and good magic.
The twists and turns in this paranormal tale keep the reader guessing up to the end and weave themselves together into a quest to rekindle love.

Buy Links: Wild Child Publishing
http://www.wildchildpublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=84&products_id=410
http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-of-the-Past-ebook/dp/B00AK2D9I8/ref=sr_1_15?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1354874514&sr=1-15&keywords=shadows+of+the+past
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shadows-of-the-past-carmen-stefanescu/1113910162?ean=2940015715026



Excerpt from Shadows of the Past
Andrew pulled her to his chest. "Do you regret you've come with me?"Passion smothered Genevieve's doubt and guilt. "Never," she answered, aware of her body's response to his touch, and she succumbed to his embrace.The moonlight bathed his face in silver light. Andrew lowered her wimple, and his fingers threaded into her curls. She swayed, enveloped by the dizzy sensation of drowning in the tumultuous ocean of his gaze. The tenderness of his touch raised in her the wish they had lived in another time and been simple, ordinary people. She longed to feel the warmth of his lips on hers. How much she'd have liked to live the rest of her life beside him and bear his children. A dream not likely to ever come true for her. Why not let the feeling lurking in the pit of her stomach take over and consume her whole being?Aware of the track of her thoughts, she shifted uneasily, a hot flush warmed her cheeks. Drawing in a deep breath in spite of herself, calming the gnawing unease in her mind and the thought of Sister Dominica guessing she was the dough of a sinner, Genevieve repeated, "Never."With her eyes closed and their bodies touching she became, for the very first time, simply a woman. She melted in his embrace in spite of the invisible vicious threat breathing around them. Aware they might never be alone again, she fought hard to silence the voice of conscience berating her."Oh, God. Please forgive me," Andrew muttered under his breath when he bowed his head to kiss her. Their lips met in a passionate first kiss.                                                         . . . . . . . . . Far in the forest, the sprightly stream’s clear waters sang their ancient song down the moss-covered banks. Reaching an old, crooked oak tree, bearing the seal of recent lightning damage, the waters trembled, turned muddy and the pale, distorted face of a woman emerged. Her raven black hair floated around her head, the long black tresses writhing and coiling on the waves, like snakes trying to pry free and attack. Her eyes flew open and a hideous grin stretched her lips. She blinked several times and gurgled a hoarse threat to someone known only to her, “You imagine you thwarted my plans even from beyond the grave, but you’re wrong. You shall hear from me. You shall all hear from me! Soon.”Little by little, the waters of the river became an ugly shade of green, covered the ghastly face, and continued down to the green pastures in the valley while an ominous silence, harbinger of the woman’s spiteful threat, settled over the rugged mountain and its mysterious forest.

Today I'm delighted to share an excerpt from medieval author Cathy MacRae's latest, The Highlander's Outlaw Bride! 
I'm in love with the cover. Can't wait to read!
Thrust into the role of laird upon his father's unexpected death, Connor MacLaurey returns home to find his cousin has usurped his lands and title. Furthermore, his betrothed--a lass he barely knows and certainly did not agree to marry--is hunted by the sheriff, accused of stealing cattle. His plan is to petition the king for clemency for the foolish chit, break the betrothal, and take his castle back from his treacherous cousin. Marriage is not in his plans.Brianna Douglas has no desire for marriage. Widowed young, berated daily for failing to give her first husband a child, and sent home in subsequent disgrace, she devotes her life to holding her family's land for her young brother as their sotted father drowns his sorrow in whisky over her mother's death. Raiders have hit her clan hard, and to save them, she finds herself betrothed to Laird MacLaurey's absent son to seal a pact of protection with the MacLaurey clan.Forced into a marriage neither wants, it will take a king's edict and sacrifice from both to discover what love means. But can they accept their losses and learn from their mistakes before Brianna marries another?Excerpt:Her step quickened and she fled the room to the stairway leading to her chamber. An iron grip on her arm yanked her to a stop and she whirled to face him, his expression black with fury.“Let go of me!” she hissed angrily.Conn released her arm, but did not move away. “What do ye think ye are about? Are ye dead set on being hanged?”“The king pardoned me.”“Aye, for reiving. Disobedience to the king is treason and will also get ye hanged.”Brianna eyed him narrowly, unable to quell her toe as it tapped the stone floor impatiently. “I dinnae want to marry.”“Well, there will be none to wed ye from the gallows.” He loomed over her, his expression darker still. “And I could have refused ye for yer lack of respect.”“Lack of respect? I said naught that is not on any other’s tongue, m’laird.”“Ye know naught of me or my past year in France.”“Enough to know I dinnae want to be shackled to a skirt-chaser like yerself. I dinnae want such disrespect in my marriage, either!”Conn exhaled a long breath. “Why are ye so against this marriage?”“Are ye daft? What is there to recommend it?”“The reivers—““Have stripped my clan of their wealth.”“Yer dowry is of no importance to me. However, I do find myself in need of an heir.”Furious, Brianna tossed her head. “Ye would do better to find a woman ye know will give ye one. I have no desire to be that woman.”“Is that so?” The soft tone of his voice did not match the fire she saw in his eyes. She shook off the frisson of longing before it woke the passion his voice ignited in her, and did not flinch as she spoke the lie.“Aye.”
Buy link: http://www.amzn.com/B00UD9JMBQ

Today we're spotlighting bestselling author Ashley York and her latest medieval romance: THE GENTLE KNIGHT.
I'll be grabbing this one!


THE GENTLE KNIGHT

A medieval soldier returns home to find his lover died in childbirth just as his own mother had. Believing he is cursed, Peter of Normandy turns from love. When he must give escort to an Irish princess more noble than many knights, he struggles with his decision to live a solitary life. Can he take the chance that his love won't be a death sentence and possibly make them stronger?

Padraig MacNaughton's death bed decree rips his daughter, Brighit, from the shelter of her protective clan in Ireland. Forced to take vows at a Priory in England, she finds herself in the hands of lecherous mercenaries with their own agendas. Dare she trust the Norman knight to see her safely to her new life as a nun? Even when she finds in him the fulfillment of all she's ever wanted?

Or will honor and duty eclipse their one chance for happiness?


EXCERPT

She had dreamed of him! All at once it came to her. He had taken her into his strong arms and held her tight against that hard body. Every muscle pressing into her. Then the touch of his warm lips sliding along her cheek to meet her mouth with a hungry kiss. Brighit had actually felt his lips on hers and that same heat swirled through her now.She sighed. Yes. It was a very nice dream.The shock of cold air accompanied with the sound of the curtain being dragged back had her eyes flying open. There in front of her was the man from the lake... the one in her very real dream. In the flash of a second, his eyes changed from wide with shock to a look she’d swear spoke of pleasure.“And what is this?” He tipped his chin toward her, a knowing smile gracing his pleasing face.Brighit covered herself. One arm across her breasts and one hand over her private parts. She felt like Eve posing in the Garden of Eden.The sudden silence stole her breath away. She refused to confirm it but knew all eyes were on her.“Do you mind?” Ivan’s voice cut through the awkward moment as he stood next to the carriage. He yanked the curtain from the fine-looking man’s hand, dropping it back in place. Brighit was again cocooned in darkness.“Yours?” The man’s voice was low, resonating through her core. It was as appealing as his body.She took a steadying breath, trying to calm her nerves enough to cover herself. She couldn’t have done a better job of calling attention to herself if she’d tried.Just how many men were out there? How many men had seen her without so much as a stitch of clothing? She yanked the chemise down but it refused to cooperate. The sopping material bunched at her hips. She grabbed at her gown, her hands shaking with the rage coursing inside her.That now familiar sound of fist-against-flesh cut through the silence.An unfamiliar laugh. His laugh. A slight tremor responded through her insides.“Mort,” the handsome man called to someone.The indistinct image of a shorter man with a gaping mouth came to mind. “Yes, my lord?”“I believe this man was about to take a terrible misstep with his fist. Does it seem to you these men have a certain…lack of knowledge?” he asked.What arrogance!Ivan’s angry face came to mind. She shivered. The handsome man did not know who he was dealing with.“I would say that it does.” The shorter man was closer now.“Mayhap some learning is required?”“Do you believe it’s possible, my lord? Are they trainable?”“They have a naked woman in a carriage while they fight out here over who will get her.”She gasped, a soundless intake of air. Like a standard being dropped, the men talked at once. Tears threatened and a few leaked down her cheek. She wiped them away. She was only trying to clean herself not be fought over. Who was he to say such cruel things about her?The morning had started out so promising. They’d had a nice time breaking their fast with very little interaction at all. Cole’s offer of extra water had come as a surprise but not one she wanted to miss.Sudden silence. Brighit held her breath.“And what would your name be?”“I am called Ivan.”“And this…young lady?”This was just getting worse and worse. His words fairly dripped derision.“Brighit.” She answered for herself albeit through a clenched jaw from within the carriage.“Ireland? You’ve taken her from Ireland?”Brighit was surprised at his ability to name where she’d come from. She wished she were still there... any place but here. This was infuriating. She could not go out there now. They may have imagined her naked and their occasional lustful glances assured her that they did. But to have them actually see her was beyond embarrassment. Embarrassment only increased by the fact that at least two of them weren’t even known to her.“That I have.” Ivan’s smug voice drifted to her.Whoreson!“Please clothe yourself forthwith.”He must be facing her now for he sounded very close. A warmth tingled up her spine. No! His voice may be low and quiet but there was nothing intimate about this situation. She struggled with the ties up the front of her dress.“It’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Her irritation came through in her tone of voice. Good!“And I wonder why you have not been successful thus far.” Hehad the nerve to sound irritated? “Just do it... and be quick about it.”Arrogance oozed from the man!“Yes, my lord.” She clipped her words, struggling with her wimple, and hoped her sarcasm carried through the curtain.“Hurry up.”“I am hurrying!” Her thick hair refused to cooperate but she was not about to go out there with so much as a single strand visible.The man cleared his throat. Brighit would like to take a knife to it. He may be pleasant to look at but his manners lacked even the slightest courtesy.
Buy links:   Apple    Kobo    Amazon    Barnes and Noble