Authors: Elizabeth Rose
Tags: #Highlander, #Highlands, #Historical Romance, #Love Stories, #Medieval England, #Medieval Romance, #Romance, #Scotland Highlands, #Scottish Highlander, #Warriors
Also, if you’d like to read the stories of Madoc, as well as his sister, Wren and her husband, Storm, who make guest appearances in this book, you can do so by reading
Lord of Illusion
and
Lady Renegade
, part of my
Legacy of the Blade Series
.
The Legacy of the Blade Series:
Or if
you’d like to read about Onyx’s sisters and their romances, you can do so in the
Daughters of the Dagger Series
.
Daughters of the Dagger Series:
Here are also a few other of my medieval series:
The Elemental Series:
The Dragon and the Dreamwalker
Book 1: Fire
The Duke and the Dryad
Book 2: Earth
The Sword and the Sylph
Book 3: Air
The Sheik and the Siren
Book 4: Water
Or my Greek Myth Fantasy Series:
Please visit my website at
Elizabethrosenovels.com
and sign up for my email list to receive updates as I have new books being released nearly every month. You can also read excerpts from any of my novels on my website as well as get sneak peeks at covers of upcoming books. And remember that there are other authors by the same name, but my novels can be identified by the rose on every cover. Please also check out my latest endeavor, my
NEW book trailer videos
.
I have included some e
xcerpts for your enjoyment. Thanks for your support!
Elizabeth Rose
Excerpt from
Ian – Book 3
(MadMan MacKeefe Series)
Kyla tried to get to her feet, but stopped when Ian’s body blocked the sun streaming in the door as he towered over her.
“Ye jest couldna mind yer own business could ye?” he spat.
“Nay, it’s no’ like thet,” she said, shaking her head. She wanted to say so much more, for starters that she was sorry, but the words just wouldn’t come. He stood above her with his hands on his hips. His chest was study and firm, and his dark, flat nipples were erect in the center, indicating to her that he was still aroused. He reached down a strong arm, and in one motion pulled her upward. From the force her body went crashing into his, and her hands went out to steady herself, landing on his chest. She gasped at the feel of his nakedness under her fingers.
She felt the hot, corded sinew beneath his skin, and she swore a muscle quivered beneath her hands. She slowly looked upward, drinking in his chiseled cheekbones and the dark stubble upon his face. His black hair was tousled and hung down nearly to his shoulders, and his eyebrows were just as dark and bushy. His eyes were the color of hazelnuts, his gaze straightforward and steady. And then she found herself staring at his mouth - his lush, lower lip, and she wondered how it would feel to be kissed by him. To be touched, or teased the way he’d been doing to Grizela.
“Mayhap since ye interrupted yet another o’ me affairs, ye’ll have
te replace her now. After all, I’ll no’ be left waitin’ and wanton yet one more time becooz o’ ye, Kyla.”
“What?” she asked, not sure what he was saying. Her heart raced in anticipation. “What do ye mean by thet?”
“I mean, thet ye’ll have te do, as I feel a need fer release.”
Ian only toyed with the little chit, but he had to do something to scare her from following him around and ruining any chance he ever had of getting a proper bedding anymore. He felt frustrated and anxious, and very angry with her for the way she’d been acting lately.
There was only one thing he could think of that would send her running, and after he was through with her, she’d never bother him again. He reached out and grabbed her hand in his, and was surprised when he felt her trembling. She was a small girl, and he had no doubt if he squeezed her hand too hard he’d break a bone. Still, she was as tough as any of the laddies of the clan.
“Ye see how frustrated I am becooz o’ ye?” he asked, guiding her hand toward his groin and pressing her fingers against the plaid covering his bulge. He expected her to pull away and roll her eyes or do any one of those childish things she usually did. Or mayhap crinkle her nose in disgust and wipe off her hand and then punch him as hard as she could. But she did nothing. Instead, her eyes were fastened on his hand atop hers and he could feel the heat of her palm right through the wool to his manhood, and . . . he liked it.
He quickly pushed her hand away. He was very aroused by this and realized it must be because he still hadn’t recovered yet from fondling Grizela. He needed to get Kyla away from him already, and he could only think of one more
thing to try that might work. It was the same thing he’d always done to her while she was growing up that made her so disgusted that she’d leave him alone for weeks afterwards. He’d just have to playfully kiss her on the lips. He knew how much she hated that, as she’d told him many times that she’d rather die than touch her mouth to his.
Of course he hadn’t done it in years now, but he could only hope it would still work as well as it used to.
He took her head in his hands and leaned forward and planted the biggest kiss on her lips that he’d ever given her. But she didn’t pull away in fright or disgust and dart out the door of the stable like he’d expected. Nay, she actually did something that surprised him so much that he didn’t know how to react.
When he tried to move away, she reached out and pulled his head back to her, and kissed him so passionately on the lips that he wondered for a moment if he had the wrong girl. Where the hell had she learned how to kiss like that?
Her lips were soft and sensuous. And he felt the tip of her tongue dart out briefly, and when it did, it about drove him from his mind. She smelled like wildflowers and fresh hay, and when he reached out to take her face in his hands again, he felt the softest skin he’d ever felt on a woman. And when she pressed up close to him he felt breasts under her clothes. Firm, rounded, and fully mature, right down to the little bumps darting out and touching his chest from her hardened nipples. This was something he never expected. And certainly not what he wanted to notice on his best friend’s sister when he was standing there still aroused and ready to burst.
Excerpt from
Lord of Illusion
: Book 3
Legacy of the Blade Series
Abbey rode her steed hard through the woods, branches scratching her skin and tearing at her traveling clothes. Still, she did not care. One glance over her shoulder told her she was yet to be followed. But when she looked a second time, a rider on horseback approached her, gaining on her quickly. In her carelessness, she misdirected her horse and it reared up, causing her to fall from her sidesaddle to the hard ground far below.
The rider came up behind her, and two strong arms pulled her to her feet.
“Nay!” she shouted, pushing him away, “I won’t go with you to marry that ogre.”
That’s when she realized he wasn’t a guard at all, but rather the old man in the road who’d robbed them.
“Let go of me,” she cried, and in her struggles the man’s hood slipped from his head. Though he had a beard and eyebrows of nearly white, the hair on his head was as dark as a starless night.
“Hold still,” the man ground out - a young man’s voice slipping from his lips instead of the old crackly voice she’d heard on the road.
“You are not an old man,” she accused him. “You are an imposter. Who are you?”
Madoc
ap Powell looked at the beautiful woman before him, demanding his name as if he would really tell her.
“Who are
you
?” he asked in return.
“I am Lady Abigail of Blackmore,” she retorted. “And I demand you release me.”
“You, my lady, are the one who alerted the guards to my actions and almost got me killed.” She was a feisty wench, he’d give her that. And twice as observant as any of the guards.
“They
will
kill you,” she said. “Just as soon as they follow - which will be at any moment now.”
“Nay, my lady. That is where you are wrong. For at this moment they are fighting off a band of marauders who are headed in the opposite direction. I sincerely doubt they’ve even noticed you are missing.”
“So you set up an attack and now you come for me?”
“I had naught to do with the attack. I work on my own. I just happened upon the opportunity before they did, that’s all.”
“Work?” she mimicked the word he’d used. “Hah. I sincerely doubt you have ever worked an honest day in your life. And I do not like to be referred to as an opportunity.”
Once again she was very observant, although he
had
worked at an honest job for a few years of his life. But he’d seen where honest work had gotten him when he’d ended up in the dungeon. Nay, what he did now was the better of the choices, and also what his mother had taught him to do from childhood.
He took a sheep bladder filled with water from his side, and splashed it upon his face to rid himself of his disguise. The white powder in his beard and mustache washed out, leaving it as dark as the hair on his head. The powder in his eyebrows followed. He gave a sharp intake of breath at the coldness on his skin, then took a swig of the water and offered her some.
“Nay,” she said, turning her head, and when she tried to walk away, he realized her gown had caught on a branch.
“Well, Lady Abigail, I see your escape is foiled. You are caught not only by me but also by the guardians of nature.”
“I wasn’t trying to escape!” she exclaimed.
When she looked back up to him, he couldn’t help but notice her beauty. A few years younger than he, she seemed to be mayhap one and twenty summers. Her hair was golden silk, spun from the faeries of the forest themselves. Her eyes blue – deep blue – and clear like that of a midsummer’s night sky. And her skin was alabaster and looked soft and supple.
“Well I am glad to hear you were not trying to escape,” he told her. “Because then you’ll be willing to come with me when I return you for a reward.”
Excerpt from
Amber – Book 3
(Daughters of the Dagger Series)
Bowerwood Abbey, England, 1357
Vespers had just finished, and Amber de Burgh of Blackpool, novice of the Sisters of St. Ermengild, blessed herself as the doors to the church slammed open, and in entered the devil himself.
All heads of the congregation of praying nuns and monks turned toward the door, and Father Armand who was conducting the service looked up sharply in surprise.
“Lucifer!” he cried out, startling everyone inside the church. “Bid the devil.”
Commotion broke out and the occupants of the church parted like the Red Sea. The nuns huddled together in a hurry, quickly blessing themselves and praying aloud in the process. The monks gathered together at the other side of the church in hushed whispers.
Amber raised her chin, looking over the heads of the nuns, surprised to see a man standing in the doorway instead of the horned and hoofed demon she expected to find. A bedraggled man with a chain around his neck and chains on his wrists stood in the entranceway. His legs were spread, and his hands raised up to stop the doors of the church as they hit the wall and swung back toward him. Lightning illuminated him from behind, and thunder boomed from outside as rain pelted down like a barrage of arrows from the sky, crashing against the stone steps of the church directly behind him.
“Father,” the man said in a low voice through clenched teeth, and Amber knew he was speaking to Father Armand. “I will see you in Hell before I do your bidding again, you bloody bastard!”
Cries of shock went up from the group of nuns around Amber and one of them swooned, ending up prone on the floor in a tangle of her black robes and long veil. Several of the sisters rushed over to assist her. The monks at the other end of the church conversed in hushed whispers behind their hands. Amber curiously made her way from the wooden bench at the front of the church closer to the door to gaze upon this spawn of the devil.