medieval

Grimme remained silent the entire next day, sunrise having made his panicked plan to abduct a bride look utterly foolish. He knew better than to panic and normally, panic was not something he felt. But this was not war; it was politics, about which Grimme knew little. He was a knight, a soldier, and a commander. He need not worry himself with anything but that his men functioned well together, and if they didn’t, to find out why and repair the situation.

The night before, all five of them had taken their meal in the taproom, Lady Brìghde happily eating and drinking all of them to shame. Of the inn’s proprietor, she had requested parchment, quill, ink, and sealing wax.

“Brìghde— By the bye, how in God’s name do you pronounce your name?”

“Bree-juh.”

“In English.”

“Oh. Bridget.” Read more →

Brìghde was too tired to do anything but eat and drink. The earl admonished her once again to sleep with him or sleep tied to a tree, but as she had the night before, she fell asleep before she could feel his arms around her.

It was pitch and the forest was absolutely still when she awoke to tend her needs. The earl was spooned against her back, his arm heavy in the curve of her waist. She moved slightly and his arm tightened just a bit. She did not know if he were awake or if it was a reflex. Carefully she inched out of his grasp, but as she stood, he grabbed her skirt and made her trip.

“Ooof,” she grunted.

“I told you not to run,” he growled. Read more →

The sound of horse tack and low men’s murmurings awoke her at dawn. The fog was still thick and she sat up to look for the earl. There, next to the stream, through the fog, she saw a dark blob squatting, filling his flask whilst his men destroyed the evidence of their passing. A good tracker would be able to tell in the moss that someone had made camp here, but not even the best hunting dogs could follow a scent in the water.

“Good morn, my lady,” the earl said from above her suddenly.

She smiled and said, “Good morn to you, too, my lord.”

He held his hand out for her to take. She did, and, forgetting about her sore and bruised body, attempted to spring right to her feet, but instead was met with aches and pains all over. She arose with great difficulty, not bothering to hide her grunts and groans. Finally she was on her feet, but she wished for nothing more at the moment than to lie down and go back to sleep. Finally she gathered her courage and stretched against the pain. She groaned some more. Read more →

… and then suddenly it wasn’t.

So what happened was, 1520 Main was a very difficult book to write for many reasons. It wore me out. I already had two titles on the table awaiting my tender hacksaw that I did not want to work on. I had had, in the back of my mind, since The Proviso, the idea of a Scottish historical featuring Bryce Kenard’s ancestors.

Because Bryce Kenard … le sigh.

All I knew was that it would start with a cliché: Interrupt a wedding to snatch the bride. That’s all. I published 1520 Main on May 31. I started this book on June 19. It’s July 29, and I have part I finished: 160,000 good words. (My snippets file has 110,000 discarded words.) Of course, it’s a self-contained romance novel as it is. A little polishing, I could throw it out there.

But you know me better than that.

I have no title. I have no cover. I have no publication date. I don’t have anything but a summary and a rough draft I’m pretty proud of. And below you will find the summary and the first chapter. Read more →

This will be a sticky post.

The title is Black as Knight.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36

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Newly made English earl Grimme Kyneward must take a noblewoman to wife to keep his lands and his life, but even if he knew how to woo a woman, he doesn’t have time to do it properly. What does a knight do when he has no prospects for a bride, but needs to get one as quickly as possible? He snatches her, of course.

Never mind that Lady Brìghde Fàileach is the wrong bride; she has her own reasons for wanting to marry the first earl who plucks her out of her wedding just before she’s forced to say “I do.” That the earl has a deep and abiding aversion to brunettes is convenient for her, and the fact that he is also in need of a castellain to run his chaotic household is even better.

She is fully aware that a man in need of a noble wife will also be in need of legitimate heirs, but she readily agrees to it, freeing her from her father and fiancé forever, and giving her power to rule his household, which includes all his mistresses and bastard sons.

Grimme has no desire to bed Brìghde, but he must have a legitimate heir. Brìghde has no need to bed Grimme, but she’s absolutely certain she’ll enjoy the experience. And on the journey from her wedding to his lands, Grimme and Brìghde forge a friendship Grimme is certain will last forever …

… but for Grimme’s ravenous liege who covets everything Grimme loves and will kill to get it.