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Release Day! King's Warrior

King's Warrior is all yours!

“‘Knight and Day' set in the Middle Ages!”

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(Some vendors are taking awhile to get the book up. I'll update when they go live.)

 If you're in the mood for a big bad Irish warrior with questionable intentions, a rollicking, non-stop, scorching hot medieval adventure, here's your fix.

King's Warrior, your one-stop, did-they-just-have-sex-against-a-wall historical romance thriller.

Just what you wanted on a grey Tuesday in February, yes?? 

France, 1193. Tadhg O'Malley is a wanted man.  (pronounced /tie-g/) Outlawed & on the run, he's got very little to lose. Except his contraband, which can win a kingdom for whoever gets it first. But that innocent merchant standing on the quay?  She means nothing.  Nothing except his only way out.

Magdalena is a proper merchant who abides by all the rules, all the times.  Even the unfair ones. Especially the unfair ones. She knows better than to get mixed up with dark-eyed strangers. But when one saves her one night, she’s utterly and inadvisedly charmed.

But she's about to discover the true consequences of joining up with outlaws: they might do anything. Anything at all.

Including drag her into a terrifying, exhilarating adventure of a lifetime.

King's Warrior is out in the wilds, so go hunt it down.  Tadhg is waiting for you.

Amazon | iBook | Kobo | B&N Nook | GooglePlay

(Some vendors are taking awhile to get the book up. I'll update when they go live!)

Want an excerpt?  Of course you do!

♥♥♥♥

…Voices broke out from the other end of the quay. They turned. The reeve's assistant was coming back along the quay with an even more officious-looking man in his wake. On their heels stalked several armed men.

Goddammit.

“Mother Mary,” she said in a desperate whisper. “What more can go awry?”

Tadhg shared the query.

There was nothing for it. He made his decision in a heartbeat. Sliding his hands up her arms, he spun her and almost flung her up against the side of the nearest building, then reached up and tore off her headdress.

“Good heavens,” she cried, her hands flying up to capture the silky veil, but he'd already pulled it off and was tugging off her distinctive cloak next.

“Mon Dieu,” she gasped, grappling for the cloak, but he fisted it together with the veil, down by his hip, then stretched out his other hand and planted it on the wall beside her head, blocking her face from the interlopers hurrying down the quay.

“Kiss me,” he ordered.

Her shocked face stared up at him. “I b-beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me, then run.”

“What?”

“If you kiss me, you're a whore. If you stand there staring, you're a merchant with a pouch of stolen buttons in her hand.”

A second's pause, then she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Dizziness and heat swooped in like hunting birds for Magdalena, dispelling sense and reason and anything else that might have been of use to her at the moment. She had barely touched her lips to his when he descended without mercy, his mouth hard and slanting. There was no prelude, no warning, no kindness or care, no quarter given. She was a whore and he was having her.

He played the ruse exceptionally well.

He plowed her mouth open with teeth and tongue, explored the depths of her mouth with sinful abandon. She could do nothing but cling to him, her hands around his neck, her head forced back, her spine cupped, her body…thrilling.

Madness. Madness, all.

The hand not holding her cloak and wimple closed around her hip and began to tug up her skirts. She made a feeble attempt to stop him, but his grip grew fierce, and he yanked the gown, dragging it up the side of her leg until she felt cool air on her shin and calf.

Her head spun as if she'd been twirled like a top. Picked up by a bird and sent flying.

Her knees grew weak, but she did not break the kiss. She could not. He'd become a field of energy, the way a metal was pulled toward iron, or how one drop of water clung to another. She was affixed to his kiss, to his chest, which she'd somehow pressed up against, to his shoulders, which she'd somehow wrapped her arms around, to his tongue, which was tangled with hers, his hot male breath, his cunning male hand, his hard knee now making all manner of incursions between her thighs, and she, she, reveling in it.

Then—it might have been an hour, or five seconds—he pulled away, took his heat and his kiss and his hard hands and that soaring sensation, took it all away and broke the kiss.

For a second, his head hung beside hers. “What is your name?” he asked softly.

Her name? What was her name? “M-Magdalena.”

He repeated it, “Magdalena,” so it became a hot, accented breath of her name, then he slid his hands down to her elbows and pushed her away. She stood wavering, bereft, panting against the haberdasher's wall.

“Run,” he said.

 She stared. “I—”

He gave her a little push. “Run.”

♥♥♥♥

Don't worry, he's going to find her later, and make her pay for being a trusting soul.

And then, she's going to steal the one thing he never knew he had: a heart.

Seriously, go get it!

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(Will update vendor list when all sites go live)

Intro The Hero: Defiant

I was updating the ebook file of DEFIANT, and was reminded of what a bad man Jamie Lost is.  Really, not nice at all.  Eva is convinced he's a menace cast up from Hell to plague her, thwart her, endanger her…tempt her.

True on all counts.

If you haven't read DEFIANT yet and are in the mood for a big (110K words big!) adventure-strewn, road romance set in the time of King John and his not-so-chivalrous knights, go indulge yourself today!

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Here's Eva's first impression of the devil:

…The rogue’s thick fingertips touched the middle of her back and pushed her the rest of the way inside the tavern.  Then he stepped in too and pointed to a table by the far wall.

“Over there. Sit.”

Again with the commands.

She wanted to growl at him.

He tromped over the bulging plank floors toward the back counter that ran the length of the room, moving through flickering shadows of torchlight.

His hair-roughened square jaw could denote either a dull blade or a rough nature, but his hair, barely tethered by a leather strip, long and dark, bespoke only outlawry.

His cape was nondescript, calf-length. Beneath he wore a black, quilted surcoat, sleeveless, covering what she supposed was a mail shirt, although he wore a longer-sleeved tunic over it, as if to conceal what lay beneath. Both surcoat and tunic hung to mid-thigh, slit up the sides. Mucky knee-high boots completed the ensemble, but it was the dark hose, molded tight over his thighs, that kept Eva’s attention riveted far longer than was necessary.

He wore no insignia on his dark surcoat, bore no identifying colors, yet everyone either had a lord or was a lord. Even the most feared, ruthless mercenary, a Brabançon, identified himself with someone. Here in England, that usually meant the English king.

By the look in this one’s eye, ’twas a simple matter to place him there, among the terrible, ruthless sorts.

But somehow, she couldn’t believe something so…beautiful could be so awful.

And he was beautiful, to a hard line, masculine magnificence, all long, lean contours of hard heat and piercing eyes. A beast in his prime.

Her dark-eyed proteus looked over his shoulder, scowling when he saw she had not ‘come,’ was not ‘over there.’

“Sit,” he growled. “And stay.”

A fissure of anger opened up inside her. She narrowed her eyes and, very softly, barked.

***

For the record, Jamie didn't like being barked at.

And so the adventure begins….

HAVE FUN IN THERE!

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Cover Reveal & Preorder-The King's Outlaw

8

 

Gorgeous, right??

Preorder now!

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In THE KING'S OUTLAW, get ready for a sexy, thrilling ride through Crusades-era Europe! 

Travel to medieval France & England and get a taste of the Holy Lands with King Richard the Lionheart.   Visit a sea town shrouded in darkness and corruption, sneak into hidden caves,  sail on ships, and get snowbound in a firelit cottage with no one but a dangerous outlaw and the way he's looking at you, firelight glinting in his eye… (yes, there is snowbound-ness!) 

The story originally appeared in the anthology Captured by a Celtic Warrior

It's expanded for this single title release to show more of the hero & heroine's journey across England, including scenes from the secret cove that forms the nexus of the Renegades & Outlaws collection.

Here's an except for you!

♥♥♥

The King's Outlaw©

…She didn’t know how long she listened, or how long he spoke, in his low, lilting voice, drawing pictures so vivid she could almost feel the Irish sun on her skin, smell the grass under her feet. “…and in Ireland, Maggie,” he said, making her shiver every time he called her that, “you’ve got to take care, for the otherworld is close to hand, fey close, so close that on some nights, you lay and listen to things you know cannot be real, but they are, and then you know the world is far more wide and wonderful than ever the priests did tell.”

They faced each other. His eyes were gleams of fading firelight, hers of distant hope.

“It sounds a most worthy place,” she whispered.

“I never should have left,” he agreed, regret thick in his voice. “But glory beckoned.”

She knew that thick coating in her own throat, all too well. Impulsively, she touched her fingertips to his hand. “That is the way of it, though, for some of us,” she said urgently. “We leave that which we do have, to seek that which we might have. Sometimes, we stumble along the way.”

Tadhg looked down at her hand, her fingertips barely skimming the back of his. Offering comfort, she emanated innocent desire. Her long hair spilled in glorious disarray over her shoulders, and her eyes were bright and full of fire—he greatly approved of fire in a woman, and so infrequently found it—and her lips were far too full to be only three inches away from his own, half parted, breathing on him.

“A besetting sin, then?” he murmured.

“That is it,” she whispered happily.

She smelled like sunshine, and her smile punched a hole through the densest, darkest part of him, the cloud of him, the roiling, rising thunderstorm in his heart. “Lass,” he said in a thick voice, “I swear on my life, I will settle this debt to you.”

She shook her head. “You already have.”

He smiled grimly to himself. She had no idea what he meant. She thought he meant what had already come, and that it was all over now. But it was not over, and to the almost certain damnation of his soul, he was not yet done using her.

A melodic sound penetrated the walls of her shop. Church bells, calling the faithful to midnight mass, as they would every night of these Twelfth Night revelries.

Magdalena jerked a little, yanked out of the fairy-like cloud that had descended over her shop, almost startled to find herself still sitting behind her counter. In every way but the truth, she’d been far, far away, on the green hills of Ireland, with….

She sat up straight. “What is your name?”

He blew out something that sounded like a sigh. “Tadhg Nessan Cenn Fáelad O’Malley.”

The words tumbled out swiftly, a lyrical and utterly incomprehensible combination of syllables. “My,” she laughed. “It sounds nice and noble.”

“Oh, aye, quite. Nessan means stoat.”

She laughed—she’d laughed more with this man in a half-day of trials and tribulations than she had in a twelve-month of calm, proper living. Or a hundred-month of it.

“You can call me Tadhg,” he said, looking at her mouth.

Tayg,” she whispered, sounding it out. “What does it mean?”

“Poet.”

“And are you one?”

“I’m thinking of one just now.” He looked from her lips to her eyes. “’Tis bawdy.”

A long, wide ribbon of excitement unfurled through her as she tipped her head back and laughed again. He watched her appreciatively.

The bells finished their tolling.

“You should go.” She forced herself off the crate, away from the ribbons of excitement and laughter. “There is only one guard at the gate at this hour, Gustave, and he is quite amenable to negotiation.”

“So now you know the gate guards, too?” he grumbled as he got to his feet.

She pushed gently on his shoulder. “Go.”

Oh, how she did not want him to go.

He did not go. For a long minute he looked down at the ground, and when he lifted his head, there was something in his eye that made her breath slow down and her heart speed up.

“Do you need anything?” she said softly. “Food?”

He shook his head.

“Oh, your money! That you gave me on the quay.” She started to turn to where she’d hidden it, in a pouch under the counter.

He put a hand on her arm, stilling her. “Keep it.”

“But—”

“Keep it.”

His fingers were warm bands encircling her upper arm. She looked into his eyes and felt oddly, shockingly bereft. “Oh, I wish—”

She cut the words short before they did something dangerous, like instill hope, in however small a degree.

He lifted a hand to her cheek, brushed a bent knuckle across it. “No, you don’t,” he murmured. “You do not wish for that.”

“Yes, I do.”

Faintly he smiled, but his voice was hard. “Lass, you do not want what I have.” As if to prove it, he overturned his hand and dragged a calloused thumb roughly across her bottom lip.

All the breath came out of her in a hot rush. “Oh.”

It was a gasp of arousal, of desire and pent-up wanting, as far as she could retrieve the memory from the dusty cabinet of her mind. It made her want to weep for the lost memory of it.

He watched her with dark, unreadable eyes, then slid his thumb back again, a little harder, rolling her lip down the slightest bit. She tipped her head back and let her mouth part under the rough caress.

“That is a mistake,” he ground out. “You do not realize….” He shook his head once. “How much I want you.”

She stepped to him, pressed her breasts up to him. His thighs were hard against the front of hers, the hilts of his weapons bumped against her hips and belly, and dark, dangerous desire burned in his eyes. She wanted all of it. All of him.

“Show me.” She slid her arms around his neck. “For I have been dying to be wanted the way you do.”

♥♥♥

Preorder now!

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Let me know what you think of the cover!!

Scorching hot, epic, lush historical romances, the books in the R&O collection feature heroes & heroines who visit the same secret cove, Renegades Cove. You’ll experience all eras of the middle ages in these sweeping stories of hard-willed alpha heroes and fiery, determined women who use the cove to escape villains, plot perilous missions, and of course, fall in love.

Get ready for these bad boy medieval warriors and their fiery, strong heroines!

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