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Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway: His Captive Princess by Sandra Jones


His Captive Princess
by Sandra Jones
Genre: Historical Romance
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Release Date: April 28, 2015



Earned respect is sweet, but deserved revenge is even sweeter.

Warren de Tracy was assured the Welsh village of Dinefwr would be an easy conquest, as would the widow of its fallen prince. Wedding her will appease the locals and win the respect of his liege, the usurper King Stephen.

Instead, Warren is ambushed, taken prisoner by a hooded Welshwoman with skin that glows like moonlight. If he must die at her hands, at least his honorable death will silence the whispers of disloyalty hanging over his name.

Princess Eleri has never seen a knight as stoic—and as eager to die—as Warren. She’d love to oblige the bastard, but something in his ocean-blue eyes stays her hand. Plus, suspicion nags at her, for the arrows that wounded him and killed his men are Norman, not Welsh.

A ghostly prophecy portends danger that thrusts the enemies closer together, where hate explodes into passion that won’t allow Eleri to surrender Warren to her vengeful clan. But returning him to his king breaks more than it mends…and for Warren, retaliation will be sweet, indeed.



Copyright © 2015 Sandra Jones
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Cantref Mawr, Deheubarth, Wales, Winter 1136 A.D.

Warren de Tracy had led battles on two different continents against formidable enemies of the Church and his Norman kings, and for his efforts he’d won spurs, a barony, more than a few scars and a complete lack of fear, which had served him well. Ironically, of all his venerable foes, a lowly dog killed him.

He watched the speckled greyhound resting on its dead master’s chest, growling low at him, the stranger in its territory. The mongrel had already betrayed his Welsh owner’s hiding spot in the dense thicket by protectively snarling at one of Warren’s mounted knights. Then his hotheaded young soldier had wheeled back for the rebel enemy without caution, earning him a fatal arrow to the heart.

Making perhaps the worst tactical error of his life, Warren had followed to check on his fallen man. The dog, far from done, howled over its master’s fate, thus calling attention to Warren’s presence, too. That was when an arrow from God-only-knew-where in the surrounding woods took him by surprise, its force unseating him. Quick and efficient, these archers were so stealthy he’d never seen their faces.

Now left to travel afoot with a useless sword arm, Warren collapsed at the base of an ancient yew a few yards away from the two bodies. He stripped off his gloves and snapped the arrow’s wooden shaft in half, leaving the barb lodged in his muscle. Ice-hot pain exploded through his chest.

Sang Dieu!” He cradled his throbbing arm and waited, head swimming and shoulder bleeding, as the voices from the skirmish went silent.

All five of his men were dead. He felt it in his bones. Soon he would join them, but not nearly soon enough.

Ever since King Henry had died earlier that year, the Welsh princes had led revolts trying to take back lands they had lost in the Norman invasion. King Stephen, the new usurper, had ordered Warren to claim the Welsh Deheubarth camp of Dinefwr for Warren’s own. All Warren had ever wanted was to gain the respect of his liege. King Stephen had also told Warren to take one of the Welsh princesses for a bride, which, along with promises of clemency and protection, would surely appease the locals. Furthermore, his liege had suggested, the widow of one of the recently fallen princes would be “receptive” to the offer.

How wrong the king had been.

If only Warren had known there would be a rebel spy waiting upon the shore when they landed. Now the entire conroi was dead as a result.

At least none of Warren’s brothers had been with him this time. He could die without more shame hanging over his head. His half-brother would live to look after their little sister. With Warren dying honorably in battle, there would be no more questions of his loyalty, no more whispers of treason.

The dead soldier’s quick end was a blessing compared to Warren’s wound. The arrow in his shoulder wouldn’t budge, proving it was a ruthless Norman barb, probably stolen from one of Warren’s men, and the broken shaft offered no purchase with which to maneuver it. Each time he touched the splintered wood, a burst of fire spread through his chest. His heavy sword was meant for hacking bone, not useful for quickening his death, but perhaps he could knock himself unconscious while he waited for the arms of everlasting rest.

He leaned against the tree and battered the back of his skull, but the beating only made his head ache and his vision blur. The agony of his shoulder remained.

He closed his eyes before the reeling made him vomit.

Despite the absence of wind, the nearby trees rustled softly. Warren cracked an eye open. A hooded rebel stood near De Gouin’s body. As silently as the first, another dark-hooded figure dropped from the branches above. Dressed in deerskin chausses and heavy tunics, they studied the soldier’s corpse. Bon sang!Welsh rebels. Or Cymreig, as they called themselves. The smaller one nudged the dead knight’s arm with a booted foot. Bows resting casually on their backs, the pair hadn’t seemed to notice Warren.

His left hand tightened around the sword’s hilt. One good throw would fell one of the lightweight bastards, but he had no way of fending off the other.

As if sensing Warren’s intentions, the greyhound’s growl deepened, and it glanced uncertainly between Warren and the rebels. The archers were still too far away to hear, too absorbed in retrieving his soldier’s weapons, but the dog might change that. His barking would bring them around, turning their attention to Warren. He couldn’t let that happen. He was ready to die but not to be shamefully taken alive as a hostage for the local chieftain, where he would surely find unimaginable tortures.

He adjusted his grip on the sword in his left hand. His arm shook from the loss of blood.

The beast hunkered over his master’s body, putting more of its belly on top of the man’s chest. Caesar, Warren’s own trained mastiff, would do the same. Now staring into this animal’s brown eyes, he saw unwavering loyalty and trust, so like Caesar’s.

The greyhound licked the dead Welshman’s face, and the sight put a knot in Warren’s throat. He’d never harmed an animal before, nor would he this day.

Before the wary tension in his muscles could relax, the dog woofed in his direction.

Damned traitor!

The enemies swiveled around. Assessing the situation, they drew their swords.

In Warren’s foggy vision, the two swarmed toward him like sylvan elves, multiplying as yet more rebels fell from the tree, at least a half-dozen of his enemies.

The first pair stood over him with weapons extended, while the newcomers surrounded their own fallen warrior and his canine.

Gorthwr fud.” The one who’d kicked De Gouin spoke at him in a puzzle of confusing sounds, but the sneered tone was perfectly clear. More puzzling than the guttural language Warren had been trying to decipher since arriving on the Glamorgan shore a few days ago was the fact that the rebel’s voice was female, low and husky. The accented tones would be interesting, he reckoned, if they weren’t so full of hate.

He blinked hard to clear the cobwebs in his vision. A pale oval shape loomed before him, and soon he focused on a pair of dark golden eyes in a face with skin that seemed to glow as if lit by moonlight. She dropped her hood for a better look at him, revealing wild plaits of flaming red hair, which dangled around her perfect face.





Sandra is the author of historical romances, including the River Rogues series, set in frontier America. With more than 20 years working as a bookseller and then a librarian, she found her true calling in writing. Always looking for the next story to tell, she makes her home on a river in the Ozark Mountains. When not working on her next book, she enjoys doing genealogy research (she’s a descendant of a Norman knight), playing cook for her husband and being the servant to her old grumpy tomcat. She has two sons in college and loves sharing lengthy discussions about the books they read. Sandra also loves hearing from her readers.







Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: Shadow of Doubt by P.A. DePaul


 ShadowofDoubtCover 
 
The new SBG novel from the author of Exchange of Fire.
When her secretly filmed tryst shows up on the internet, Michelle Alger goes on the run. She has no choice. Not only was her one-night stand the son of a US senator, but he’s been murdered—and she’s the number one suspect. With both the senator and an avenging drug lord on her trail, her life is in danger. There’s only man she can trust. He saved her once, but will he still be her hero six years later? Captain Jeremy Malone and the rest of Delta Squad have the senator’s order: find the mystery woman who killed my son. But to Jeremy, she’s no mystery. Six years ago his team of Green Berets rescued her from the torturous clutches of a Colombian cartel, and he’s never forgotten her. His personal and covert mission: find Michelle before anyone else. When he and Michelle do meet again, the sparks are explosive and consuming. They’re also dangerous as hell. Because with each new bit of evidence, Jeremy suspects that Michelle’s innocence may be a ruse—a beautiful trap set by a woman who has even more secrets yet to bare.


Monday, April 27, 2015

Release Day Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway: Rx Missing (Decorah Security) by Rebecca York


Rx Missing
by Rebecca York
Series: Decorah Security
Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense
Release Date: April 27, 2015



After bailing out of his fighter jet, Mack Bradley wakes up in a luxury hotel with a bunch of guests who, like him, have no memory of how they arrived. He’s drawn to one of them, Lily Wardman. But can he trust her or anyone else in this strange environment where hidden dangers lurk? And what happens when Mack’s brother, Grant, mounts a desperate search to find him?



(Mack and Lily left the hotel grounds and went into the woods--where the world turned crazy. Pursued by fantasy creatures, they barely made it out again.)

With every ounce of strength Mack had left, he heaved himself up and staggered toward the door.

“Come back,” Lily gasped.

“Gotta close it.”

He slammed the wooden barrier closed, before staggering away from the wall again and sinking to the lawn beside Lily. She rolled toward him and gave a dry sob.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” he whispered, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms, clinging and rocking, so thankful that they had both escaped.

She clung to him, shaking.

“What happened to us in there?” she gasped. “I mean, everything turned crazy.”

“Yeah, but we got out.”

“Where did that loony stuff come from?”

“Loony.” He laughed, then shook his head. “Yeah, Looney Tunes.”

He had no real answers for her as he stroked his hands over her back, tangled them in her hair. He only knew that they were lucky to have escaped alive.

But they were safe now, and she was in his arms. He’d wanted to hold her like this, touch her like this. It had seemed wrong before. Now it was the only thing that felt right, as he focused on Lily instead of the terror in the forest.

What had happened in the forest didn’t make sense. But they had escaped, and they could celebrate that.

They were both alive, and he needed to prove it.

The desperate look in her eyes undid him.

“That was impossible,” she whispered. “It can’t be real.”

“Maybe not, but this is real.”

He cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. Perhaps in some part of his mind, he had intended it to be a reassuring kiss, but the moment his lips touched hers, he knew he wanted more.

Lily trembled in his arms, running her hands over his back, his shoulders, gathering him closer, melting against him.

He barely knew her. Or was that even true? He wanted to ask what they had been to each other. But he wanted to kiss her more.

She made a small, needy sound that sent sparks to every nerve ending in his body. He angled his head, first one way and then the other, greedy to give and take.

He lay back on the grass, pulling her on top of himself so that her body sprawled along the length of his.

With no conscious thought on his part, one of his hands slid down to her hips, pulling her lower body against his erection, knowing that would only make his craving for her worse.

But he was beyond rational decisions. Way beyond. He was all raw nerves and desperate feelings that the crazy trip through the woods had unleashed.

In this out-of-kilter environment, he’d been hanging on to the shreds of civilization as he knew it. He’d lost that veneer in the forest when they’d been running for their lives.

Needing more of the woman in his arms, he clasped her more tightly, pressing her breasts against his chest.

They had just escaped from dangers beyond his wildest imagining. Now he needed to affirm their escape—in this place where he couldn’t trust his own observations or his senses—and where everything might change in an instant.

As they clung to each other, it was only a small leap to the next step. The need to claim her for his own, the need to be deep, deep inside her, erasing everything from existence except the two of them and what they could give each other.

He had forgotten where they were. Forgotten everything but the woman in his arms.

His hands stroked over her back, then down to her hips while he feasted on her, with an abandon that might have shocked him if he’d been capable of rational thought.

He worked his hand between them and cupped her breast, then glided his thumb across the beaded nipple.

Lord she felt so good, and the small sounds she made only fueled his passion.

He was about to pull up her shirt to give himself better access to her breasts when a bark of a laugh made them both go rigid.

“Is this what you consider exploring the hotel?” a voice said. “Looks like a more personal exploration to me.”







Haven't started the series yet or need to catch up?
The Decorah Security Series

On Edge
Dark Moon
Chained
Ambushed
Dark Powers
Hot and Dangerous
At Risk
Christmas Captive
Destination Wedding
Decorah Security Collection


A New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly best-selling and award-winning author, Rebecca has written over 145 books and novellas. In 2011 she became the dozenth author to receive the Romance Writers of America Centennial Award for having written 100 romantic novels. Her Killing Moon was a launch title for Berkley’s Sensation imprint in June 2003. Five more books in the series have followed.

Rebecca has authored or co-authored over 65 romantic thrillers, many for Harlequin Intrigue’s very popular 43 Light Street series, set in Baltimore, and many with paranormal elements.

Her many awards include two Rita finalist books. She has two Career Achievement awards from Romantic Times: for Series Romantic Suspense and for Series Romantic Mystery. And her Peregrine Connection series won a Lifetime Achievement Award for Romantic Suspense Series.







 
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