ONE YULETIDE KNIGHT is part of several Black Friday deals offered by Praire Rose Publications. For Friday November 17 this title is just 99cents!
Deborah's novella, "A Marriage Made in Hell" is the lead in this Yule/Christmas anthology. Here is the blurb for her story, and an excerpt.
Blurb
Essence
of the game is deception...
When her half-sister refuses to marry the powerful earl of Hellborne, Greyson
de Verre, Lesslyn de Sancerre sees the chance to have a life, a home and a
husband of her own, so she agrees to take her sister's place. Her sister,
in turn, is off to elope with the man she has fallen in love with.
Everything appears fated in this pact the two women seal. What seemed
like a logical solution at the time soon becomes a battle to keep ahead of the
lies. Lesslyn quickly learns plots and schemes are easily concocted, but
realities arising from the falsehoods are a different matter altogether.
Especially, when she is quickly falling in love with Greyson de Verre...her
husband to be.
Commanded
to wed by royal decree...
When Edward Plantagenet demands you must marry, you have little options...or do
you? King Edward has commanded that the earl of Hellborne must marry the
heiress of Sancerre. After all a bargain is a bargain—even if the earl
views the coming marriage with disdain. Only, the enigmatic lord of
Hellborne needs must wed on Yuletide...so wed he shall...no matter what.
Even
if it is a Marriage Made in Hell. . .
Excerpt
Lesslyn
stared, her eyes traveling up the long, strong thighs, encased in soft leathern
hose, exposed since he wore no surcoat.
The short black habergeon only came to his narrow hips. Growing lightheaded, the whole incident was
taking on a bizarre dream quality. She
tried to swallow, as she stared up at his muscular legs. If it were a fantasy, then it must be one
born of her darkest desires. How ironic
to meet her bridegroom in such a fashion.
He
leaned down and locked his hands behind the small of her back. “Can you link your arms around my neck?”
She
was too weak to nod again, instead, she just did as he asked.
He
lifted her, until Lesslyn was on her feet––and pressed up against him! Her body was flush against his very masculine
frame; heat off him rolled over her in a wave.
So flooded with the sense of this man, her heart slammed against her
ribs. The unusual, luring scent of his
skin was surprisingly intoxicating.
Lesslyn leaned into him, reveling in the tantalizing fragrance.
“Your
breath will come. Trust me.” His head dipped closer so he could whisper in
her ear. “You might pass out. Never fear, I shall catch you and keep you
safe.”
Lesslyn
felt faint, her legs rubbery. She
started to sway. Suddenly, air returned
and she could draw breath again. Still
dizzy, her legs buckled, but as he promised he caught her and held her close.
“See,
I told two truths. Your breath came back
and I did not allow you to fall.” He
gave a grin that nearly stopped her heart.
Lesslyn
wheezed, her throat still burning.
“Breathe
slowly. Keep your breaths shallow. Soon, all will be normal.”
Lesslyn
tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but her body was focused on blessed
air. She had never understood the
necessary function, or how something so natural could be taken from you. Instead, she gave him a small nod, and
lowered her eyes, unable to meet his penetrating stare.
The
fear was subsiding, only to be replaced by other powerful emotions. She was aware of this man, on a level that
had never touched her before. Aware she
was offering him a life of lies. It made
her ashamed.
He
kissed her cheek, ever so faintly, the touch so light she could almost believe
she imagined it. The moment was spoiled
as a chunk of snow fell high from the tree, hitting them both. Hellborne laughed. It was a deep, rumbling sound that suddenly
made her feel happy.
His
eyes narrowed and he tilted her head back, his brow flexing into a frown as he checked
her forehead. His thumb faintly brushed
over the sore spot. “You grow a
lump. Did he hit you?” He turned his head, watching as they led the
man past. If eyes had the power to kill,
the enemy warrior would drop to his death on the spot.
She
swallowed hard to push words out.
“Nay...horse...knocked me off.”
The
attacker looked worried. “I was no’
goin’ to harm her. Wanted the beast,
’tis all...to get away...she stabbed me, she did.” He raised his bleeding lower arm to show the
wound.
“Not
harm her? You forget I blocked your
swing as you stood over her. She was
knocked breathless, unable to move.
What? You lifted your sword
against a woman who was flat on her back?”
Fury rode on every word Hellborne spoke.
One
of the knights guarding the man held up the knife. “Your lady is a fighter, I’d say.”
Greyson
stepped away from her, though he kept his left hand on her back. “Knave, want to save your life? Tell me under whose banner you fought? Why did you attack this party?”
The
man glanced from Hellborne, then to Lesslyn, and then back, buying time before
he answered. Resignation finally lit his
eyes. “No banner, my lord. We were paid coin—I know not who. I canno’ give you a name even if I wanted to.”
“What
were your orders?
“Just
to attack the party and take the woman,” he replied. At the darkening of Hellborne’s face, he
quickly tacked on. “The command was no’
to harm a hair on her head. Just take
her.”
Hellborne
barked, “Take her where?”
“Again,
I know not.”
Hellborne
held out his right hand for his sword, and his squire quickly passed it to
him.
Deborah Macgillivray - links
Dragons of Challon series – Sisters of Colford Hall series
Dawn Thompson is another author in the
ONE YULETIDE KNIGHT anthology with her novella, "A Wish Under a Yuletide Moon."
Here is a blurb for Dawn, and an Excerpt.
Blurb
It was under the cold Yuletide moon
when Garlon Trivelyan, Knight of the Realm, heard the sirens keen—just before
the ship hit Land’s End shoals. As the
galley broke apart, he felt something keeping him afloat in the icy waters,
nudging him toward shore. He suddenly
found himself on the beach, his arm deeply wounded. His blood black under the silver moonlight. Garlon knew he was dying so he made a wish to
live, never remotely believing that final request could be answered. Too late he recalled the warning: be careful
for what you wish.
Annalee, the goddess of the wishing
well, heard the mortal’s plea—and answered it.
Now Garlon Trevilyan was trapped in the land of the Fae on the night of
Yule, where magic could save a dying man’s life. But at what price?
Dawn Thompson weaves a spell of wishes granted and the dark consequences of
myths and legends, of Auld Gods, Centaurs, Selkies and the strongest power of
all—Love.
Excerpt
“I...I...” Garlon could scarcely form words. “Who are you?”
“You
may call me Analee. You called upon the
goddess Annis, and I answered. I am the
handmaiden of this well.”
Suddenly, the pain in
his arm ceased. Mayhap he was dreaming?
“If the full moon
waxes at Yuletide, I am permitted to rise from the pool and take a lover—if he
pays the proper tribute. You gifted me
with a sigil ring of gold. I accept
this.”
Surely, this was
naught but a night visitation. Or he had
died in the wreck, and this was his torment.
She leaned to him and brushed her cool lips across his. Strangely, it didn’t feel like a dream. He could taste the moisture from her
mouth. He hungered for more, desire
suddenly roaring through his blood with fire.
“Have I died, then?”
he finally asked.
“Nay, I have healed
your arm. You shall live Garlon
Trivelyan,” she said
“How do you know my
name?”
“I know much, Knight
of the Realm,” she returned. “I have
healed you, saved your life. I have
chosen you. Only, you must come to me of
your free will. I will not compel you to
be my lover.”
Overhead, the
Yuletide moon peeked out from behind the clouds, the silvery beams almost
clinging to her womanly perfection.
As dreams go, this
one was surely born of his deepest desires.
Never had he seen a woman so beautiful.
“Arise, Sir Knight,”
she said, holding out her hand to him.
Dawn Thompson
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