Friday, October 29, 2010
And We Have a Winner!!! Books by Mary Ellis
Congratulations go to Carmen 7351, Trinity Rose, and Ann Gaylia, our winners in the generous 3-book giveaway by author Mary Ellis. Thanks, everyone! Be sure and stop by again for more interviews, book highlights and giveaway drawings. To stay informed, consider signing up for email updates or for this blog's feed.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Whistlestop Book Tour: "Highland Blessings" by Jennifer Hudson Taylor
With fine prose and deft skill, Jennifer Hudson Taylor takes us to the highlands of Scotland at a time when men lived and died by the sword. But the struggles woven into this book's plot are not of the flesh alone. Akira needs to make peace with both her earthly and heavenly fathers, and Bryce must learn to trust an enemy. But a greater threat waits in the shadows...
I recommend Highland Blessings for readers who enjoy historical fiction and historical romance.
© 2010 Janalyn Voigt
* A complimentary copy of this book was provided to me by the author for purposes of review.
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
Abingdon Press (May 1, 2010)
***Special thanks to Jennifer Hudson Taylor for sending me a review copy.***ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Jennifer Hudson Taylor is the author of historical and contemporary Christian fiction set in Europe and the Carolinas. Her fiction has won awards in the American Christian Fiction Writers' Genesis Contest. Her debut novel, Highland Blessings, will be released May 2010. Other works have appeared in national publications, such as Guideposts, Heritage Quest Magazine, Everton’s Genealogical Publishers, and The Military Trader. Jennifer graduated from Elon University with a B.A. in Journalism. When she isn't writing, Jennifer enjoys spending time with her family, traveling, genealogy, and reading. She resides with her husband and daughter in the Charlotte area of NC. Visit the author's website.
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: Abingdon Press (May 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1426702264
ISBN-13: 978-1426702266
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Prologue
Scotland 1463
Cedric MacPhearson knew he was going to die, but he glanced up at the low clouds brewing into a storm and raised a fist, determined he would last until one of his sons found him. The survival of his clan depended upon it. And as ornery and stubborn as he had been all his life, no one would believe he had agreed to a peaceful settlement with the MacKenzies if he died, least of all his sons.
Beads of sweat broke along his brow as he struggled to remain conscious, mentally listing every black deed he had ever committed and then muttering a whispered prayer for each one. As the MacPhearson chieftain, Cedric’s word had been the unquestioned law. He had always thought himself a fair man with a firm ruling hand. Now as he prepared to meet his Maker, he wasn’t so sure. It was imperative that he complete one last goodwill before he closed his eyes forever.
The restless wind twirled faster, rustling scattered leaves around him. The cool air was a comfort, giving him a feeling of being lifted high and floating away as the pain in his chest faded to numbness. Lightning flashed silently, highlighting a lone rider approaching at top speed.
Rumbling thunder echoed in Cedric’s ears, drowning out the sound of a winded destrier pulled short and his son’s voice calling to him. Cedric’s head was gently lifted into the lad’s lap and tenderly cradled in youthful hands, strong with promise. Bryce, his middle son, peered down at him with intelligent, gray eyes full of concern.
“Da! What happened to ye?” He reached over and carefully lifted Cedric’s bloody tunic. Moisture gathered in his eyes at the sight of the large sword wound slightly below Cedric’s heart. “Likely, the villain got yer lungs.” His voice sounded like a man, but it shook with desperation. He looked deeply into Cedric’s eyes with painful certainty. “Who did this to ye?”
“A MacKenzie warrior struck me down. I came from signing the peace settlement with Birk MacKenzie, so I wasn’t expecting an attack.”
“I’ll kill the MacKenzie responsible!”
Cedric could hear the anger in his son’s voice and knew a century-old vengeance
coursed through his veins. Pride swelled in Cedric’s battered chest, and he was pleased that he hadn’t missed this opportunity to give his final command and say good-bye. He clutched his son’s shirt in his fist.
“Listen, lad. Birk MacKenzie didn’t order this. Even now he doesn’t know.”
The effort to speak quickly drained his energy and made his chest feel heavy. What blood had not drained from his body began to fill his lungs, and breathing became increasingly difficult. With a concentrated effort he motioned to his pocket and took a labored breath.
“Get paper.” His hoarse whisper brought blood to his mouth.
***
Bryce shuddered. Knowing time was of the essence, he frantically searched his father’s clothes and found a piece of paper. He unfolded it and scanned the signed documents.
Denial was on the tip of his tongue, when he looked at his father with defeat.
“Pro-mise . . . ye’ll . . . make E-van . . . hon-or . . . my word.”
A flicker of apprehension pierced him. He was uncomfortable making a promise of a life-long commitment for his elder brother, and even more afraid to spend these precious moments arguing with his dying father.
With the last of his strength, Cedric grabbed his wrist. “Pro-mise!” More blood spewed from his lips as the clouds opened with rain. Lightning struck and thunder roared.
Bryce bent forward, hating the entrapment of death he saw in his father’s eyes, and cradled his father to him. “Da, don’t die!” Tears blended with the downpour of rain. Cedric’s cold fingers squeezed. Out of desperation Bryce yelled over the storm. “I promise! I promise!”
He couldn’t bear the thought of his father dying without granting his last request.
Cedric released his wrist, and Bryce knew he was gone. Tears were difficult to shed. He couldn’t ever remember a time in his childhood when he allowed one to slip from his eye.
Now, alone in the storm, a lad of ten and four, Bryce grieved for his loss and a promise he prayed he could keep.
Chapter One
April 1473
Akira MacKenzie willed her knees not to fail her. She watched Gregor Matheson’s blond head disappear through the astonished crowd that slowly parted for him. He would have made her a perfect husband, but now he deserted her, placing her safety in jeopardy once again.
She swallowed the rising lump in her throat and straightened her shoulders. Akira clasped her hands in front of her and turned to face the expectant gazes of her Scottish clan. Hushed murmurs flowed through the crowd until one by one their voices faded into the restless wind.
“`Twill be no wedding this day.” She allowed her strong voice to echo over her kinsmen. The earth vibrated, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Akira paused, but naught seemed amiss. Green hills and hidden valleys lay undisturbed, draped with wildflowers and tall grass that rippled in the gentle breeze. Strands of golden-red hair lifted from her shoulder and brushed against her face. She whisked a wayward lock from her eyes.
She turned to Father Mike for encouragement. He stood in a brown robe gathered with a rope cord tied at the waist around his thin frame. Holding a small book in the crook of his arm, he shook his graying head. His aging face held laugh lines around the corners of his eyes and mouth, but today his wrinkles were pulled into a sad frown. His soft brown eyes settled upon her with understanding. Akira wanted to run weeping into his arms, but she held herself still.
More thunder rumbled and grew closer.
“’Tis the MacPhearsons!” A lone woman cried in alarm, pointing past where Akira stood on the grassy knoll.
Panic slashed through her clansmen, and they scattered to find shelter behind her father’s
castle gates. Unarmed MacKenzies sought their weapons before the riders reached them. Expecting a wedding celebration, few were prepared for battle.
Akira turned. The thunder she had heard was an army of warriors descending upon them. A savage barbarian riding a fierce gray stallion charged toward her, his army in quick pursuit. Together, the lead warrior and stallion embodied power. He led them as befit a king, but when his gaze fixed on Akira, her blood ran cold.
The MacPhearson chief wanted his bride. Akira hated her fear of him as it took root and gripped her insides.
“Lord, give me strength,” she murmured.
She would not run. No, she would stand and wait for him. If it was peace he wanted, then peace she would give him. She’d be calm, meet his gaze, and remind him of the letter her father received six months ago from the MacPhearson chief saying he would not honor the betrothal their parents had pledged years ago when she and Evan MacPhearson were children. Accepting it as the insult it was, Akira’s father granted his permission for her to wed a man of her choice. She had chosen Gregor Matheson, but now she realized even that had been a mistake.
Her brother Gavin broke through the madness and grabbed Akira’s arm, propelling her toward the castle gates. The sound of horses’ hooves pounding into the earth grew louder. One gray stallion ruptured forth, his rider targeting her. Knowing Gavin held no weapon to defend them, she fretted for his life and tried to wrench herself free.
“Run, Gavin! Run!” she yelled above the chaos.
Gavin wouldn’t leave her. He struggled to pull her along, but her heavy satin gown caught under her feet, nearly tripping her. While most wedding gowns of her clanswomen were of varying colors, Akira had wanted to look like a white dove. The front was simple, but elegant, with no beads or trim. The long sleeves widened at the wrists and the skirt portion draped over her figure like a long tapestry.
“Hurry, lass!” he urged as the material ripped.
The stallion’s labored breathing almost pulsed down her back. Her skin crawled with tiny prickles. The dark rider would soon overtake them. Jerking free of Gavin’s hold, she again urged her brother to safety.
“Leave me, Gavin.” Tears of despair threatened to snap her control. “I’ll not have ye die at the hand of a MacPhearson because of me.”
“Nay. Never!” Gavin protested.
The MacPhearson warrior bent, and his heavy fist slammed against Gavin’s jaw. Her brother landed several feet back. Iron fingers gripped her waist. The MacPhearson tightened his hold across her middle as he pulled her backward and up onto the horse. Akira screamed and kicked, lashing out blindly against him. He fought her with one hand while he guided his charger forward. The reins almost tumbled from his hand, and he lunged to grab them. His hard elbow rammed her cheek in the process.
“Don’t fight me, lass,” he roared. “Or else the blood of innocent men will be upon yer head!”
His words cut into her like a blade, and she ceased her struggles as he threw her over his lap and across the racing animal’s back. Akira believed him. A MacPhearson could have no compassion in a heart as black as death.
“How dare ye, MacPhearson!” Akira’s father bellowed behind them. She stole a glance through her tumbling hair. He ran after them with a fist raised in mid-air. He roared another promise of revenge before bending over his knees to catch his breath. Her father shook his graying head in disbelief.
“I love ye, Da,” she whispered, committing his image to memory.
The forest swallowed them, and for hours the MacPhearsons kept their fast pace. Akira tried to calm her heaving stomach, but it continued to twirl as she lay over his lap. The ride would have been much more tolerable had she been able to sit on her backside. Instead, her stomach suffered from the jarring of the stallion’s movements. The nausea finally overtook her, and she vomited.
They stopped. Left with no other recourse, she tried to wipe her mouth with her hand.
The warrior ripped off part of his plaid hanging over his tunic that reached down to his knees like a long shirt and belted at the waist. He wet it with water from his flask and offered it to her. His plaid of red and gray colors fell forward, and he shoved it back over his shoulder. Since the MacPhearsons lived in a different region, their plaids were made by a different weaver from the MacKenzies. Akira’s clan often wore plaids of blue and green.
She lifted her gaze to his menacing glare. Akira trembled in spite of her silent resolve not to fear him, for he looked as if he wanted to beat her, and she felt certain it wasn’t beneath him.
He leaned forward, thrusting the material in her face. “Take it and clean yerself,” he demanded, as if the sight of her disgusted him.
Grimacing, she looked down at his leg covered with her sickness. Her cheeks grew warm. He deserved what he had gotten for throwing her on his stallion and hauling her off like a prize he had won.
“Lass, don’t make me repeat myself.” His lack of patience was quite evident in his tone, but even more so as he shoved the damp material in her face.
Akira snatched it out of his hand and glared back, momentarily forgetting her danger.
“Ye blunderin’ fool, ’tis yer own fault it happened. Ye got no more than ye deserved.”
He leaned forward, his nose barely an inch from hers, and she leaned back as far as she dared without toppling off his stallion. His dark gray eyes turned black, and a vein pulsed rapidly in his neck as he stared down at her.
Once again her temper and boldness had gotten the better of her. Lord, help bridle me tongue, she silently prayed. Deciding she had pushed him far enough, Akira gripped his leg while she stroked the damp cloth over his skin in hopes of diverting his attention from her angry outburst. He flinched at her touch. She dropped his leg with a questioning gaze.
“I told ye to clean yerself, not me.”
“I’m not quite as messy.” She turned back to her task.
He lifted her from the stallion and dropped her on her unsteady feet. It took her a moment to recover. When she did, she found herself staring at her captor’s chest. Tall for a woman, Akira wasn’t used to a man’s height equaling her own, but this MacPhearson was a giant. His massive shoulders blocked the sun’s rays, filtering through the trees.
He bound her hands with a leather strap, pulling the knot secure against the flesh around the fine bone of her wrists. She noticed his skin was a shade or two darker than hers.
Akira stole the moment to study his profile. Shoulder-length hair the color of potted soil framed an authoritative, square face. His gray eyes were sharp and purposeful as he tended to his task. Up close he appeared more handsome than barbaric. His bronze face bore a recent shave.
The bridge of his nose smoothed over his face to striking, high cheekbones. He radiated confidence, but she sensed a stubborn streak hid behind his determined expression.
As he towered over her, she felt a rare fear and trembled. His hands gentled, and his voice softened.
“I’m sorry I was so rough with ye. I didn’t mean for my elbow to hit yer cheek.” He pulled the leather tighter, making her wince. “I apologize for this inconvenience, but I must see to it that ye canna escape.”
He stepped back, rubbing his chin in thoughtful concentration as if contemplating what to do with her. “Ye’re no ordinary woman.” He crossed his arms and circled Akira, observing her. She could feel the heat of his blazing gaze travel the length of her. “Any other woman would have fled.” He paused in front of her and looked into her eyes. “`Twas as if ye were determined to stand yer ground and wait for me until that man encouraged ye to run.” He raised a black eyebrow. “Why?”
“They’re my family and clansmen. If ye were coming to claim yer bride, then I was the one ye wanted, not them.”
“So ye’re a courageous lass. Willing to sacrifice yerself for their lives. Is that the way of it then?” He spoke in a firm, yet gentle tone. He touched her swelling cheek with the back of his knuckles. Akira flinched from the uncharacteristic gesture. He dropped his hand.
“Regardless of what ye think, I’m not in the habit of mistreating women.” He looked at her intently, his eyes almost willing her to believe him.
She stared over his shoulder at the dark forest, refusing to relieve him of his guilt—if he was human enough to feel any. “My brother did naught to ye. Why did ye hit him?”
“Yer brother would have interfered and caused a massacre of yer people. I had no wish for that to happen, so I took the only option I had. I took care of him before he could strike me and my men retaliate on my behalf.”
Akira stepped back in disbelief. She craned her neck to see into his dark gray eyes. “’Twas not the only option. He could still be unconscious this verra moment.”
He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as if she were trying his patience. “I assure ye, lass, yer brother will be fine. I didn’t hit him hard.”
She leaned up on her tiptoes. “Then my eyes must have been deceiving me, for ye
knocked him plumb out.”
“Aye, that I did.” He grinned with pride as white, even teeth flashed in contrast to his dark profile. “But the blow will not cause any lasting effects, I assure ye.”
“There’s not a guilty bone in yer body.” A lock of golden-red curls fell forward covering her right eye. She reached up with her bound hands and tossed her long tresses over her shoulder. “Ye had no right to take me from my family.”
“Believe as ye wish.” He shrugged. “I may have taken ye against yer will, but I never commit harm unless I’m forced.” He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face.
Her mind whirled in a daze. Akira purposely closed her heart to any generosity he might bestow upon her. “Gavin gave ye no reason to hit him. I hope I do naught to force yer mistreatment of me before ye return me to my family.” The sarcasm in her voice overshadowed her fear.
A sudden frown perplexed his otherwise perfect face, and she sensed a change in his demeanor. In one fluid motion, he lifted her upon his stallion. This time she was properly seated as he mounted up behind her. He urged the beast beneath them forward, signaled to his men, and they were again on their way. Akira had nearly forgotten that others were present to witness their exchange.
Under the circumstances, he set a much slower pace than she would have anticipated, knowing the MacKenzies could be following close behind. They traveled a good distance in silence.
After a long while had passed, he bent toward her ear. “I’m sorry.”
His warm breath floated over the skin at her nape, and she fought the urge to shudder. His apology stunned her speechless. Warriors did not apologize, least of all to bound prisoners or to women.
“Whether ye believe me or not, I do not mistreat women. And the blow to yer cheek wouldn’t have happened if ye hadn’t put up such a struggle.”
Akira remained silent. How was she supposed to have responded while being kidnapped away from her family and all that she held dear? She had no idea what to expect. All she knew was that she depended upon the Lord to give her sufficient grace to get through whatever she would be forced to endure at their hands.
“I see ye’ve naught else to say.” Disappointment carried in his voice.
She arched an eyebrow. He expected friendly conversation while he carted her halfway across the country against her will and kept her in bonds? “What would ye have me say?” She turned sideways in the saddle. “I can only wonder at what ye plan to do with me. Should I beg for mercy in hopes ye’ll spare my life? Or should I wait ’til ye’ve no more use for me?” She straightened away from him.
He chuckled. “I appreciate the ideas.”
“Why not take me home now before my da comes after me and more blood is shed?”
He tensed as if her words had struck some deep chord within him. “Believe me, lass, more bloodshed is not my intention. I took ye because I had to and that’s the end of it.”
Akira wisely remained silent. The man seemed to contradict even his own character. He didn’t want her to believe him a barbarian, yet he had ridden onto MacKenzie land with warriors and carted her off against her will, thrown across his lap like a sack of potatoes. Then he bound her wrists with a leather strap and tried to convince her that he was a caring gentleman with good manners. There could only be one explanation. The man was daft.
* * *
They rode well into the night. Bryce’s heavily muscled arms shielded her from branches and other brush in their path. They came to a clearing and Bryce halted. “We’ll camp here for the night. There’s a small brook beyond those trees.” He gestured to the right. He called two men over. “Backtrack and station yerselves to keep watch. I want to know of the first sign of a MacKenzie.”
Before she could object, large hands circled her waist and lifted her down. “Follow me.” He turned on his heel, leaving her with no choice but to do as directed. He led her into the dark woods, and she wanted nothing more than to turn and run the other way. Twigs cracked beneath the weight of their footsteps. An owl hooted in the distance. A small animal shifted and darted through the leaves. She wondered if it was a rabbit. Crickets sang around them. Akira rubbed her arms in discomfort and crouched close to his back to avoid the leaves and limbs he shoved aside.
They reached the brook, and he motioned for her to kneel beside him. She bent and watched him remove more of his plaid. He dipped it into the water and brought it against her face.
She jerked at the cold contact. What was this about?
“I merely want to bathe yer face.”
She leaned back. “Nay!”
His hands fell to his sides, still holding his wet plaid in one hand. “I can see the swelling and darkness just below yer eye, even in the moonlight.”
As if brought on by his words, the skin under her left eye tightened and grew numb. Her fingers inched to her cheek as she stared at him. He was stern with his men and they rushed to do his bidding. A man did not earn that kind of respect and power with a gentle nature. They feared him, and they wanted his approval. She could see it in their faces when they looked at him. Admiration shone in their expression.
“Ye’ve no reason to fear me, unless ye plan to make it so,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll treat ye with all the respect owed and due a lady, but heed my warning: Don’t anger me by trying to escape. There is naught I despise worse than distrust and betrayal.”
Akira stood to her full height, prepared to challenge him. “As yer prisoner I owe ye no trust or loyalty.”
He rose beside her. “Consider yerself warned. ’Twould ease yer fear of me.”
He lowered his voice, and she sensed his tone carried great meaning.
“I’m not afraid. I simply wish ye not to touch me.” She hoped her tone carried the contempt she felt.
“As ye wish.” He stepped closer, pointing a finger in her face. “But I warn ye. Ye’ll remain bound, for I’ll not give ye the opportunity to flee. If ye eat, I shall feed ye. If ye
wash, I shall help ye. Ye belong to my brother, and I trust no one else save Balloch.”
Akira stood still, stunned. He was not the MacPhearson clan chief? She belonged to his brother? “Yer not Evan MacPhearson?”
“I am Bryce MacPhearson, the middle son.” He grinned. “I see ye’ve managed to remember the name of the man ye should have been saying yer vows to when I found ye, instead of that oaf ye were about to commit yerself to.”
He started to turn from her, but she gripped his arm. “Gregor is not an oaf. Though that is the best I can describe of ye.” She felt almost breathless. “What lies do ye speak? Evan MacPhearson sent my father a letter saying he had no intention of wedding me.”
“I speak no lies. The letter was a mistake.” He turned his full attention toward Akira and placed his hands on his hips, towering over her. “And as to a better description of me, do ye really lack that much imagination, lass? If this Gregor deserves such defense, then where was the brave groom when I found ye?”
Akira hated the truth of his words. Shivers ran up her spine, and she consciously tried to shake them off, but his last question brought her blood to a boil. Her thoughts turned to the humiliating scene. Warmth crept up her neck and into her face.
“Perhaps he was a wee bit late?” he taunted.
She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words hurt. “Maybe he knew how miserable I could make his life, which would be my full intention if yer brother were to succeed in wedding me.”
His lips twisted into a sardonic grin. “As laird, Evan is only performing his duties by wedding ye. Marriages of convenience occur every day. I doubt he plans to spend enough time with ye to allow ye to wreak havoc in his life.”
“I haven’t agreed to wed Evan. And ye know naught of Gregor to throw insults in his absence.” She hated the fact that she felt forced to take up for Gregor. He did not deserve her loyalty any more than the MacPhearsons.
“I know enough.” His gray eyes grew darker and his voice a bit louder.
“What do ye know of him?”
“Enough.”
“If I must hear these accusations against him, then tell me.”
He reached for her, and not knowing his intention, she flinched. His palm rested on the side of her face, surprisingly as gentle as a breeze. “I know he is a complete fool to give ye up.” His voice broke to a husky whisper.
Akira blinked, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “Then I suppose yer brother would be an even greater fool, because me da received Evan’s letter releasing me from the betrothal agreement just six months past.”
Bryce’s expression didn’t change. “He is the fool of all fools.” He turned and walked away.
Akira followed him.
“Did he send ye for me?” She wanted to know if she was an unwelcome necessity in Evan’s life.
“Ye’ll know soon enough.”
Akira caught up with him and tugged on his arm. She needed answers. “Why didn’t he
take me?”
He shook off her arm. “Ye’ll sleep close by me.”
“I think not.” She turned from him and stomped off in the other direction, only to realize she still desired to know more about Evan MacPhearson. “Why did he not come for me himself?”
Bryce turned from her, rubbing his palm against his forehead. He walked past his men and pulled his furs from his stallion and threw them at her feet. “Here, sleep on those. ’Tis enough to cover ye.”
“My da will come for me.”
“I expect he will.” Bryce walked over to a tree, sat, leaned against the trunk and folded his arms over his knees.
“Ye plan to sleep that way?”
“Aye.” He let his head drop against the hard bark.
“Ye look uncomfortable.” She frowned in his direction. “But, I care not.” She assured him. “I’ll be home with me family in the comfort of me own bed soon.”
Akira brushed aside a few twigs and spread out her furs as best she could with her hands still bound. Then she crawled on top of the furs and brought one end over her. The chill had not bothered her as yet, but the night air promised dropping temperatures. The day had been warm for April and the first time it had not rained in days. It was a good omen for her wedding day—or so she had thought. An image of Gregor appeared in her mind, and sadness closed around her heart. The pain of his rejection hurt more than she cared to think on. She stifled a sob that nearly escaped her throat.
***
A muffled sound brought Bryce’s head up. He studied Akira’s feminine form under the moonlight. Her hair sprawled over her arms like silver ribbon. She sighed uncomfortably and shuffled around, restless.
The vision of her face, swollen and blue, made him squirm with regret. He had not meant to hurt her, and he despised his carelessness.
“Blunderin’ idiot!” he muttered under his breath.
“Are ye troubled?” The hope in her voice almost made him chuckle as she rolled over on her side and sat up on her elbow. The furs slipped from her shoulder. Akira’s silhouetted form shivered against the cool air settling in around them. Bryce looked away and shifted again to ease his discomfort.
“Nay.” He dropped his chin on his folded arms.
She continued to stare at him a moment longer before she lay back down to rest.
He let his head fall back against the bark of the tree and looked up at the outline of the branches and leaves above. Footsteps and twigs broke. Balloch plopped down beside him.
“The lady’s a beauty, is she not?” Balloch whispered.
“Aye, she is at that. In a few days she’ll hate me when she learns the truth.” For some reason, that realization bothered him. What should he care of her hatred for him? He wasn’t the one destined to wed her, but it bothered him nonetheless. As she prayed aloud for her family, her safety, and a swift return home, guilt plagued him.
When she prayed that God would soften his heart, Bryce could stand no more. He turned to Balloch. “Keep an eye on her. I’ll be back.”
In one fluid motion he stood and walked away from camp. Safely out of hearing, Bryce looked up at the clear bright stars.
“Lord, Vicar Forbes says to honor yer mother and yer father. I’m only trying to do so.” He sighed heavily, wondering if God would hear him after what he had done today. “I really do want peace between our clans. I’m tired of all the bloodshed. Show me how to keep my promise without causing another war.”
No answer came from the Almighty. Bryce dropped his head in shame. While he had never been an overly religious man, he had no desire to anger his Maker. Had he gone too far this time?
Scotland 1463
Cedric MacPhearson knew he was going to die, but he glanced up at the low clouds brewing into a storm and raised a fist, determined he would last until one of his sons found him. The survival of his clan depended upon it. And as ornery and stubborn as he had been all his life, no one would believe he had agreed to a peaceful settlement with the MacKenzies if he died, least of all his sons.
Beads of sweat broke along his brow as he struggled to remain conscious, mentally listing every black deed he had ever committed and then muttering a whispered prayer for each one. As the MacPhearson chieftain, Cedric’s word had been the unquestioned law. He had always thought himself a fair man with a firm ruling hand. Now as he prepared to meet his Maker, he wasn’t so sure. It was imperative that he complete one last goodwill before he closed his eyes forever.
The restless wind twirled faster, rustling scattered leaves around him. The cool air was a comfort, giving him a feeling of being lifted high and floating away as the pain in his chest faded to numbness. Lightning flashed silently, highlighting a lone rider approaching at top speed.
Rumbling thunder echoed in Cedric’s ears, drowning out the sound of a winded destrier pulled short and his son’s voice calling to him. Cedric’s head was gently lifted into the lad’s lap and tenderly cradled in youthful hands, strong with promise. Bryce, his middle son, peered down at him with intelligent, gray eyes full of concern.
“Da! What happened to ye?” He reached over and carefully lifted Cedric’s bloody tunic. Moisture gathered in his eyes at the sight of the large sword wound slightly below Cedric’s heart. “Likely, the villain got yer lungs.” His voice sounded like a man, but it shook with desperation. He looked deeply into Cedric’s eyes with painful certainty. “Who did this to ye?”
“A MacKenzie warrior struck me down. I came from signing the peace settlement with Birk MacKenzie, so I wasn’t expecting an attack.”
“I’ll kill the MacKenzie responsible!”
Cedric could hear the anger in his son’s voice and knew a century-old vengeance
coursed through his veins. Pride swelled in Cedric’s battered chest, and he was pleased that he hadn’t missed this opportunity to give his final command and say good-bye. He clutched his son’s shirt in his fist.
“Listen, lad. Birk MacKenzie didn’t order this. Even now he doesn’t know.”
The effort to speak quickly drained his energy and made his chest feel heavy. What blood had not drained from his body began to fill his lungs, and breathing became increasingly difficult. With a concentrated effort he motioned to his pocket and took a labored breath.
“Get paper.” His hoarse whisper brought blood to his mouth.
***
Bryce shuddered. Knowing time was of the essence, he frantically searched his father’s clothes and found a piece of paper. He unfolded it and scanned the signed documents.
Denial was on the tip of his tongue, when he looked at his father with defeat.
“Pro-mise . . . ye’ll . . . make E-van . . . hon-or . . . my word.”
A flicker of apprehension pierced him. He was uncomfortable making a promise of a life-long commitment for his elder brother, and even more afraid to spend these precious moments arguing with his dying father.
With the last of his strength, Cedric grabbed his wrist. “Pro-mise!” More blood spewed from his lips as the clouds opened with rain. Lightning struck and thunder roared.
Bryce bent forward, hating the entrapment of death he saw in his father’s eyes, and cradled his father to him. “Da, don’t die!” Tears blended with the downpour of rain. Cedric’s cold fingers squeezed. Out of desperation Bryce yelled over the storm. “I promise! I promise!”
He couldn’t bear the thought of his father dying without granting his last request.
Cedric released his wrist, and Bryce knew he was gone. Tears were difficult to shed. He couldn’t ever remember a time in his childhood when he allowed one to slip from his eye.
Now, alone in the storm, a lad of ten and four, Bryce grieved for his loss and a promise he prayed he could keep.
Chapter One
April 1473
Akira MacKenzie willed her knees not to fail her. She watched Gregor Matheson’s blond head disappear through the astonished crowd that slowly parted for him. He would have made her a perfect husband, but now he deserted her, placing her safety in jeopardy once again.
She swallowed the rising lump in her throat and straightened her shoulders. Akira clasped her hands in front of her and turned to face the expectant gazes of her Scottish clan. Hushed murmurs flowed through the crowd until one by one their voices faded into the restless wind.
“`Twill be no wedding this day.” She allowed her strong voice to echo over her kinsmen. The earth vibrated, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Akira paused, but naught seemed amiss. Green hills and hidden valleys lay undisturbed, draped with wildflowers and tall grass that rippled in the gentle breeze. Strands of golden-red hair lifted from her shoulder and brushed against her face. She whisked a wayward lock from her eyes.
She turned to Father Mike for encouragement. He stood in a brown robe gathered with a rope cord tied at the waist around his thin frame. Holding a small book in the crook of his arm, he shook his graying head. His aging face held laugh lines around the corners of his eyes and mouth, but today his wrinkles were pulled into a sad frown. His soft brown eyes settled upon her with understanding. Akira wanted to run weeping into his arms, but she held herself still.
More thunder rumbled and grew closer.
“’Tis the MacPhearsons!” A lone woman cried in alarm, pointing past where Akira stood on the grassy knoll.
Panic slashed through her clansmen, and they scattered to find shelter behind her father’s
castle gates. Unarmed MacKenzies sought their weapons before the riders reached them. Expecting a wedding celebration, few were prepared for battle.
Akira turned. The thunder she had heard was an army of warriors descending upon them. A savage barbarian riding a fierce gray stallion charged toward her, his army in quick pursuit. Together, the lead warrior and stallion embodied power. He led them as befit a king, but when his gaze fixed on Akira, her blood ran cold.
The MacPhearson chief wanted his bride. Akira hated her fear of him as it took root and gripped her insides.
“Lord, give me strength,” she murmured.
She would not run. No, she would stand and wait for him. If it was peace he wanted, then peace she would give him. She’d be calm, meet his gaze, and remind him of the letter her father received six months ago from the MacPhearson chief saying he would not honor the betrothal their parents had pledged years ago when she and Evan MacPhearson were children. Accepting it as the insult it was, Akira’s father granted his permission for her to wed a man of her choice. She had chosen Gregor Matheson, but now she realized even that had been a mistake.
Her brother Gavin broke through the madness and grabbed Akira’s arm, propelling her toward the castle gates. The sound of horses’ hooves pounding into the earth grew louder. One gray stallion ruptured forth, his rider targeting her. Knowing Gavin held no weapon to defend them, she fretted for his life and tried to wrench herself free.
“Run, Gavin! Run!” she yelled above the chaos.
Gavin wouldn’t leave her. He struggled to pull her along, but her heavy satin gown caught under her feet, nearly tripping her. While most wedding gowns of her clanswomen were of varying colors, Akira had wanted to look like a white dove. The front was simple, but elegant, with no beads or trim. The long sleeves widened at the wrists and the skirt portion draped over her figure like a long tapestry.
“Hurry, lass!” he urged as the material ripped.
The stallion’s labored breathing almost pulsed down her back. Her skin crawled with tiny prickles. The dark rider would soon overtake them. Jerking free of Gavin’s hold, she again urged her brother to safety.
“Leave me, Gavin.” Tears of despair threatened to snap her control. “I’ll not have ye die at the hand of a MacPhearson because of me.”
“Nay. Never!” Gavin protested.
The MacPhearson warrior bent, and his heavy fist slammed against Gavin’s jaw. Her brother landed several feet back. Iron fingers gripped her waist. The MacPhearson tightened his hold across her middle as he pulled her backward and up onto the horse. Akira screamed and kicked, lashing out blindly against him. He fought her with one hand while he guided his charger forward. The reins almost tumbled from his hand, and he lunged to grab them. His hard elbow rammed her cheek in the process.
“Don’t fight me, lass,” he roared. “Or else the blood of innocent men will be upon yer head!”
His words cut into her like a blade, and she ceased her struggles as he threw her over his lap and across the racing animal’s back. Akira believed him. A MacPhearson could have no compassion in a heart as black as death.
“How dare ye, MacPhearson!” Akira’s father bellowed behind them. She stole a glance through her tumbling hair. He ran after them with a fist raised in mid-air. He roared another promise of revenge before bending over his knees to catch his breath. Her father shook his graying head in disbelief.
“I love ye, Da,” she whispered, committing his image to memory.
The forest swallowed them, and for hours the MacPhearsons kept their fast pace. Akira tried to calm her heaving stomach, but it continued to twirl as she lay over his lap. The ride would have been much more tolerable had she been able to sit on her backside. Instead, her stomach suffered from the jarring of the stallion’s movements. The nausea finally overtook her, and she vomited.
They stopped. Left with no other recourse, she tried to wipe her mouth with her hand.
The warrior ripped off part of his plaid hanging over his tunic that reached down to his knees like a long shirt and belted at the waist. He wet it with water from his flask and offered it to her. His plaid of red and gray colors fell forward, and he shoved it back over his shoulder. Since the MacPhearsons lived in a different region, their plaids were made by a different weaver from the MacKenzies. Akira’s clan often wore plaids of blue and green.
She lifted her gaze to his menacing glare. Akira trembled in spite of her silent resolve not to fear him, for he looked as if he wanted to beat her, and she felt certain it wasn’t beneath him.
He leaned forward, thrusting the material in her face. “Take it and clean yerself,” he demanded, as if the sight of her disgusted him.
Grimacing, she looked down at his leg covered with her sickness. Her cheeks grew warm. He deserved what he had gotten for throwing her on his stallion and hauling her off like a prize he had won.
“Lass, don’t make me repeat myself.” His lack of patience was quite evident in his tone, but even more so as he shoved the damp material in her face.
Akira snatched it out of his hand and glared back, momentarily forgetting her danger.
“Ye blunderin’ fool, ’tis yer own fault it happened. Ye got no more than ye deserved.”
He leaned forward, his nose barely an inch from hers, and she leaned back as far as she dared without toppling off his stallion. His dark gray eyes turned black, and a vein pulsed rapidly in his neck as he stared down at her.
Once again her temper and boldness had gotten the better of her. Lord, help bridle me tongue, she silently prayed. Deciding she had pushed him far enough, Akira gripped his leg while she stroked the damp cloth over his skin in hopes of diverting his attention from her angry outburst. He flinched at her touch. She dropped his leg with a questioning gaze.
“I told ye to clean yerself, not me.”
“I’m not quite as messy.” She turned back to her task.
He lifted her from the stallion and dropped her on her unsteady feet. It took her a moment to recover. When she did, she found herself staring at her captor’s chest. Tall for a woman, Akira wasn’t used to a man’s height equaling her own, but this MacPhearson was a giant. His massive shoulders blocked the sun’s rays, filtering through the trees.
He bound her hands with a leather strap, pulling the knot secure against the flesh around the fine bone of her wrists. She noticed his skin was a shade or two darker than hers.
Akira stole the moment to study his profile. Shoulder-length hair the color of potted soil framed an authoritative, square face. His gray eyes were sharp and purposeful as he tended to his task. Up close he appeared more handsome than barbaric. His bronze face bore a recent shave.
The bridge of his nose smoothed over his face to striking, high cheekbones. He radiated confidence, but she sensed a stubborn streak hid behind his determined expression.
As he towered over her, she felt a rare fear and trembled. His hands gentled, and his voice softened.
“I’m sorry I was so rough with ye. I didn’t mean for my elbow to hit yer cheek.” He pulled the leather tighter, making her wince. “I apologize for this inconvenience, but I must see to it that ye canna escape.”
He stepped back, rubbing his chin in thoughtful concentration as if contemplating what to do with her. “Ye’re no ordinary woman.” He crossed his arms and circled Akira, observing her. She could feel the heat of his blazing gaze travel the length of her. “Any other woman would have fled.” He paused in front of her and looked into her eyes. “`Twas as if ye were determined to stand yer ground and wait for me until that man encouraged ye to run.” He raised a black eyebrow. “Why?”
“They’re my family and clansmen. If ye were coming to claim yer bride, then I was the one ye wanted, not them.”
“So ye’re a courageous lass. Willing to sacrifice yerself for their lives. Is that the way of it then?” He spoke in a firm, yet gentle tone. He touched her swelling cheek with the back of his knuckles. Akira flinched from the uncharacteristic gesture. He dropped his hand.
“Regardless of what ye think, I’m not in the habit of mistreating women.” He looked at her intently, his eyes almost willing her to believe him.
She stared over his shoulder at the dark forest, refusing to relieve him of his guilt—if he was human enough to feel any. “My brother did naught to ye. Why did ye hit him?”
“Yer brother would have interfered and caused a massacre of yer people. I had no wish for that to happen, so I took the only option I had. I took care of him before he could strike me and my men retaliate on my behalf.”
Akira stepped back in disbelief. She craned her neck to see into his dark gray eyes. “’Twas not the only option. He could still be unconscious this verra moment.”
He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as if she were trying his patience. “I assure ye, lass, yer brother will be fine. I didn’t hit him hard.”
She leaned up on her tiptoes. “Then my eyes must have been deceiving me, for ye
knocked him plumb out.”
“Aye, that I did.” He grinned with pride as white, even teeth flashed in contrast to his dark profile. “But the blow will not cause any lasting effects, I assure ye.”
“There’s not a guilty bone in yer body.” A lock of golden-red curls fell forward covering her right eye. She reached up with her bound hands and tossed her long tresses over her shoulder. “Ye had no right to take me from my family.”
“Believe as ye wish.” He shrugged. “I may have taken ye against yer will, but I never commit harm unless I’m forced.” He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face.
Her mind whirled in a daze. Akira purposely closed her heart to any generosity he might bestow upon her. “Gavin gave ye no reason to hit him. I hope I do naught to force yer mistreatment of me before ye return me to my family.” The sarcasm in her voice overshadowed her fear.
A sudden frown perplexed his otherwise perfect face, and she sensed a change in his demeanor. In one fluid motion, he lifted her upon his stallion. This time she was properly seated as he mounted up behind her. He urged the beast beneath them forward, signaled to his men, and they were again on their way. Akira had nearly forgotten that others were present to witness their exchange.
Under the circumstances, he set a much slower pace than she would have anticipated, knowing the MacKenzies could be following close behind. They traveled a good distance in silence.
After a long while had passed, he bent toward her ear. “I’m sorry.”
His warm breath floated over the skin at her nape, and she fought the urge to shudder. His apology stunned her speechless. Warriors did not apologize, least of all to bound prisoners or to women.
“Whether ye believe me or not, I do not mistreat women. And the blow to yer cheek wouldn’t have happened if ye hadn’t put up such a struggle.”
Akira remained silent. How was she supposed to have responded while being kidnapped away from her family and all that she held dear? She had no idea what to expect. All she knew was that she depended upon the Lord to give her sufficient grace to get through whatever she would be forced to endure at their hands.
“I see ye’ve naught else to say.” Disappointment carried in his voice.
She arched an eyebrow. He expected friendly conversation while he carted her halfway across the country against her will and kept her in bonds? “What would ye have me say?” She turned sideways in the saddle. “I can only wonder at what ye plan to do with me. Should I beg for mercy in hopes ye’ll spare my life? Or should I wait ’til ye’ve no more use for me?” She straightened away from him.
He chuckled. “I appreciate the ideas.”
“Why not take me home now before my da comes after me and more blood is shed?”
He tensed as if her words had struck some deep chord within him. “Believe me, lass, more bloodshed is not my intention. I took ye because I had to and that’s the end of it.”
Akira wisely remained silent. The man seemed to contradict even his own character. He didn’t want her to believe him a barbarian, yet he had ridden onto MacKenzie land with warriors and carted her off against her will, thrown across his lap like a sack of potatoes. Then he bound her wrists with a leather strap and tried to convince her that he was a caring gentleman with good manners. There could only be one explanation. The man was daft.
* * *
They rode well into the night. Bryce’s heavily muscled arms shielded her from branches and other brush in their path. They came to a clearing and Bryce halted. “We’ll camp here for the night. There’s a small brook beyond those trees.” He gestured to the right. He called two men over. “Backtrack and station yerselves to keep watch. I want to know of the first sign of a MacKenzie.”
Before she could object, large hands circled her waist and lifted her down. “Follow me.” He turned on his heel, leaving her with no choice but to do as directed. He led her into the dark woods, and she wanted nothing more than to turn and run the other way. Twigs cracked beneath the weight of their footsteps. An owl hooted in the distance. A small animal shifted and darted through the leaves. She wondered if it was a rabbit. Crickets sang around them. Akira rubbed her arms in discomfort and crouched close to his back to avoid the leaves and limbs he shoved aside.
They reached the brook, and he motioned for her to kneel beside him. She bent and watched him remove more of his plaid. He dipped it into the water and brought it against her face.
She jerked at the cold contact. What was this about?
“I merely want to bathe yer face.”
She leaned back. “Nay!”
His hands fell to his sides, still holding his wet plaid in one hand. “I can see the swelling and darkness just below yer eye, even in the moonlight.”
As if brought on by his words, the skin under her left eye tightened and grew numb. Her fingers inched to her cheek as she stared at him. He was stern with his men and they rushed to do his bidding. A man did not earn that kind of respect and power with a gentle nature. They feared him, and they wanted his approval. She could see it in their faces when they looked at him. Admiration shone in their expression.
“Ye’ve no reason to fear me, unless ye plan to make it so,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll treat ye with all the respect owed and due a lady, but heed my warning: Don’t anger me by trying to escape. There is naught I despise worse than distrust and betrayal.”
Akira stood to her full height, prepared to challenge him. “As yer prisoner I owe ye no trust or loyalty.”
He rose beside her. “Consider yerself warned. ’Twould ease yer fear of me.”
He lowered his voice, and she sensed his tone carried great meaning.
“I’m not afraid. I simply wish ye not to touch me.” She hoped her tone carried the contempt she felt.
“As ye wish.” He stepped closer, pointing a finger in her face. “But I warn ye. Ye’ll remain bound, for I’ll not give ye the opportunity to flee. If ye eat, I shall feed ye. If ye
wash, I shall help ye. Ye belong to my brother, and I trust no one else save Balloch.”
Akira stood still, stunned. He was not the MacPhearson clan chief? She belonged to his brother? “Yer not Evan MacPhearson?”
“I am Bryce MacPhearson, the middle son.” He grinned. “I see ye’ve managed to remember the name of the man ye should have been saying yer vows to when I found ye, instead of that oaf ye were about to commit yerself to.”
He started to turn from her, but she gripped his arm. “Gregor is not an oaf. Though that is the best I can describe of ye.” She felt almost breathless. “What lies do ye speak? Evan MacPhearson sent my father a letter saying he had no intention of wedding me.”
“I speak no lies. The letter was a mistake.” He turned his full attention toward Akira and placed his hands on his hips, towering over her. “And as to a better description of me, do ye really lack that much imagination, lass? If this Gregor deserves such defense, then where was the brave groom when I found ye?”
Akira hated the truth of his words. Shivers ran up her spine, and she consciously tried to shake them off, but his last question brought her blood to a boil. Her thoughts turned to the humiliating scene. Warmth crept up her neck and into her face.
“Perhaps he was a wee bit late?” he taunted.
She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words hurt. “Maybe he knew how miserable I could make his life, which would be my full intention if yer brother were to succeed in wedding me.”
His lips twisted into a sardonic grin. “As laird, Evan is only performing his duties by wedding ye. Marriages of convenience occur every day. I doubt he plans to spend enough time with ye to allow ye to wreak havoc in his life.”
“I haven’t agreed to wed Evan. And ye know naught of Gregor to throw insults in his absence.” She hated the fact that she felt forced to take up for Gregor. He did not deserve her loyalty any more than the MacPhearsons.
“I know enough.” His gray eyes grew darker and his voice a bit louder.
“What do ye know of him?”
“Enough.”
“If I must hear these accusations against him, then tell me.”
He reached for her, and not knowing his intention, she flinched. His palm rested on the side of her face, surprisingly as gentle as a breeze. “I know he is a complete fool to give ye up.” His voice broke to a husky whisper.
Akira blinked, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “Then I suppose yer brother would be an even greater fool, because me da received Evan’s letter releasing me from the betrothal agreement just six months past.”
Bryce’s expression didn’t change. “He is the fool of all fools.” He turned and walked away.
Akira followed him.
“Did he send ye for me?” She wanted to know if she was an unwelcome necessity in Evan’s life.
“Ye’ll know soon enough.”
Akira caught up with him and tugged on his arm. She needed answers. “Why didn’t he
take me?”
He shook off her arm. “Ye’ll sleep close by me.”
“I think not.” She turned from him and stomped off in the other direction, only to realize she still desired to know more about Evan MacPhearson. “Why did he not come for me himself?”
Bryce turned from her, rubbing his palm against his forehead. He walked past his men and pulled his furs from his stallion and threw them at her feet. “Here, sleep on those. ’Tis enough to cover ye.”
“My da will come for me.”
“I expect he will.” Bryce walked over to a tree, sat, leaned against the trunk and folded his arms over his knees.
“Ye plan to sleep that way?”
“Aye.” He let his head drop against the hard bark.
“Ye look uncomfortable.” She frowned in his direction. “But, I care not.” She assured him. “I’ll be home with me family in the comfort of me own bed soon.”
Akira brushed aside a few twigs and spread out her furs as best she could with her hands still bound. Then she crawled on top of the furs and brought one end over her. The chill had not bothered her as yet, but the night air promised dropping temperatures. The day had been warm for April and the first time it had not rained in days. It was a good omen for her wedding day—or so she had thought. An image of Gregor appeared in her mind, and sadness closed around her heart. The pain of his rejection hurt more than she cared to think on. She stifled a sob that nearly escaped her throat.
***
A muffled sound brought Bryce’s head up. He studied Akira’s feminine form under the moonlight. Her hair sprawled over her arms like silver ribbon. She sighed uncomfortably and shuffled around, restless.
The vision of her face, swollen and blue, made him squirm with regret. He had not meant to hurt her, and he despised his carelessness.
“Blunderin’ idiot!” he muttered under his breath.
“Are ye troubled?” The hope in her voice almost made him chuckle as she rolled over on her side and sat up on her elbow. The furs slipped from her shoulder. Akira’s silhouetted form shivered against the cool air settling in around them. Bryce looked away and shifted again to ease his discomfort.
“Nay.” He dropped his chin on his folded arms.
She continued to stare at him a moment longer before she lay back down to rest.
He let his head fall back against the bark of the tree and looked up at the outline of the branches and leaves above. Footsteps and twigs broke. Balloch plopped down beside him.
“The lady’s a beauty, is she not?” Balloch whispered.
“Aye, she is at that. In a few days she’ll hate me when she learns the truth.” For some reason, that realization bothered him. What should he care of her hatred for him? He wasn’t the one destined to wed her, but it bothered him nonetheless. As she prayed aloud for her family, her safety, and a swift return home, guilt plagued him.
When she prayed that God would soften his heart, Bryce could stand no more. He turned to Balloch. “Keep an eye on her. I’ll be back.”
In one fluid motion he stood and walked away from camp. Safely out of hearing, Bryce looked up at the clear bright stars.
“Lord, Vicar Forbes says to honor yer mother and yer father. I’m only trying to do so.” He sighed heavily, wondering if God would hear him after what he had done today. “I really do want peace between our clans. I’m tired of all the bloodshed. Show me how to keep my promise without causing another war.”
No answer came from the Almighty. Bryce dropped his head in shame. While he had never been an overly religious man, he had no desire to anger his Maker. Had he gone too far this time?
Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Meet and Greet Monday: Mary Ellis
Three-Book Giveaway Drawing!
Details below...
Mary Ellis grew up close to the eastern Ohio Amish community, Geauga County, where her parents often took her to farmer’s markets and woodworking fairs. She loved their peaceful, agrarian lifestyle, their respect for the land, and their strong sense of Christian community.
She met her husband in college and they married six days after graduation. She, her husband, dog and cat now live in Medina County, close to the largest population of Amish in the country—a four-county area in central Ohio. They often take weekend trips to purchase produce, research for her best-selling books, and enjoy a simpler way of life.
Mary enjoys reading, traveling, gardening, bicycling and swimming.
Before “retiring” to write full-time, Mary taught Middle School in Sheffield Lake, Ohio and worked as a sales rep for Hershey Chocolate for twenty years—a job with amazingly sweet fringe benefits.
BRC: How would you describe your book?
Sarah’s Christmas Miracle is a tale about an Amish woman on the cusp of changing her life. She’s courting a serious beau, and is at the age expected to join the church and get married. But Sarah loves her job at the B& B and isn’ t sure she’s ready to settle down and raise children. Before she commits to anyone, she must find an older brother who left the Amish for the big city and never came back. What was so appealing that it was worth breaking his parents’ hearts?
BRC: What message do you hope it conveys?
I hope it conveys a message of hope and love for the Christmas season. The story is also told through the eyes of Sarah’s mother, who’s already lost one child to the English world, and fears she might lose another. She must trust that the bonds of family love will be strong enough to keep her daughter from falling away from her faith.
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BRC: What did you enjoy most about writing this book?
I set the urban scenes in the city where I went to college and met my (future) husband. We had a ball “ researching” a once familiar city, seeing things from a fresh perspective. It’s very uplifting to be a tourist in your own hometown.
BRC: What did you dislike most about writing this book?
I was held to a strict word count and told not to go much higher. I would have enjoyed exploring emotional avenues from more characters’ perspectives.
BRC: What inspired you to become a writer?
As a dedicated reader, I reached a time in my life where I couldn’t keep myself from sitting down and writing. Every writer arrives at a point when he or she must write.
BRC: Tell us about your writing process.
Uh, oh…there is a process I’ m supposed to follow? For the first ten years, I also maintained a day job. My writing had to fit in wherever I could squeeze an hour or two. It’s hard to remember who has blue eyes and who has brown, besides the various plot twists when you create in fits and starts. It's somewhat easier now that I write full time, but publicity demands fill in for my former day job. I still haven't developed much of a schedule...maybe next week.
BRC: What are you working on now?
Details below...
She met her husband in college and they married six days after graduation. She, her husband, dog and cat now live in Medina County, close to the largest population of Amish in the country—a four-county area in central Ohio. They often take weekend trips to purchase produce, research for her best-selling books, and enjoy a simpler way of life.
Mary enjoys reading, traveling, gardening, bicycling and swimming.
Before “retiring” to write full-time, Mary taught Middle School in Sheffield Lake, Ohio and worked as a sales rep for Hershey Chocolate for twenty years—a job with amazingly sweet fringe benefits.
BRC: How would you describe your book?
Sarah’s Christmas Miracle is a tale about an Amish woman on the cusp of changing her life. She’s courting a serious beau, and is at the age expected to join the church and get married. But Sarah loves her job at the B& B and isn’ t sure she’s ready to settle down and raise children. Before she commits to anyone, she must find an older brother who left the Amish for the big city and never came back. What was so appealing that it was worth breaking his parents’ hearts?
BRC: What message do you hope it conveys?
I hope it conveys a message of hope and love for the Christmas season. The story is also told through the eyes of Sarah’s mother, who’s already lost one child to the English world, and fears she might lose another. She must trust that the bonds of family love will be strong enough to keep her daughter from falling away from her faith.
.jpg)
I set the urban scenes in the city where I went to college and met my (future) husband. We had a ball “ researching” a once familiar city, seeing things from a fresh perspective. It’s very uplifting to be a tourist in your own hometown.
BRC: What did you dislike most about writing this book?
I was held to a strict word count and told not to go much higher. I would have enjoyed exploring emotional avenues from more characters’ perspectives.
BRC: What inspired you to become a writer?
As a dedicated reader, I reached a time in my life where I couldn’t keep myself from sitting down and writing. Every writer arrives at a point when he or she must write.
BRC: Tell us about your writing process.
Uh, oh…there is a process I’ m supposed to follow? For the first ten years, I also maintained a day job. My writing had to fit in wherever I could squeeze an hour or two. It’s hard to remember who has blue eyes and who has brown, besides the various plot twists when you create in fits and starts. It's somewhat easier now that I write full time, but publicity demands fill in for my former day job. I still haven't developed much of a schedule...maybe next week.
BRC: What are you working on now?
I'm working on a story about an Amish midwife who runs afoul of the law when a birth goes horribly wrong. It’ s a tale of growth within a marriage, dealing with grief, and staying true to your convictions when the road becomes rocky. But it also includes a romance between two people no one would expect to fall in love. The title is Abigail's New Hope and it will be released on March 1st, 2011.
BRC: Which books do you enjoy reading?
I enjoy reading romantic suspense and family sagas.
BRC: Where can readers buy your book?
Reader’s can find Sarah’s Christmas Miracle at www.christianbook com, www.barnesandnoble.com or from my publisher www.harvesthousepublishers.com
BRC: Where can readers find you online?
I hope readers will drop me a line at my blog:
www.maryeellis.wordpress.com
Book Giveaway Drawing: Mary Ellis has graciously agreed to give away a free copy of each of her newest releases, Never Far From Home, The Way to a Man's Heart and Sarah's Christmas Miracle to three readers of this blog. To enter, leave a comment to this post. Please include a way to reach you or your entry will become invalid. Entries will be accepted until this Wednesday at midnight (Pacific Time/US). The winner will be announced on Book Readers Central on Friday. Detailed rules of giveaways on Book Reader's Central on this blog are located in the footer of this blog.
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BRC: Which books do you enjoy reading?
I enjoy reading romantic suspense and family sagas.
BRC: Where can readers buy your book?
Reader’s can find Sarah’s Christmas Miracle at www.christianbook com, www.barnesandnoble.com or from my publisher www.harvesthousepublishers.com
BRC: Where can readers find you online?
I hope readers will drop me a line at my blog:
www.maryeellis.wordpress.com
Book Giveaway Drawing: Mary Ellis has graciously agreed to give away a free copy of each of her newest releases, Never Far From Home, The Way to a Man's Heart and Sarah's Christmas Miracle to three readers of this blog. To enter, leave a comment to this post. Please include a way to reach you or your entry will become invalid. Entries will be accepted until this Wednesday at midnight (Pacific Time/US). The winner will be announced on Book Readers Central on Friday. Detailed rules of giveaways on Book Reader's Central on this blog are located in the footer of this blog.
Please consider becoming a follower of this blog's feed or signing up to receive blog posts by email.
Friday, October 22, 2010
And We Have a Winner!!! "A Suitor For Jenny" by Margaret Brownley
Congratulations go to Inspired Kathy, who won this week's giveaway copy of "A Suitor For Jenny" by Margaret Brownley.
Thanks to all who stopped by Book Readers Central this week. Be sure and stop in next week for a three-book giveaway!
Thanks to all who stopped by Book Readers Central this week. Be sure and stop in next week for a three-book giveaway!
Monday, October 18, 2010
Meet and Greet Monday: Margaret Brownley
Book Giveaway Drawing! (Details below)When bestselling author Margaret Brownley isn’t crawling through dusty museums she writes. She has more than 20 books to her credit and has been published in 15 languages. The third book in her Rocky Creek series A Vision of Lucy is scheduled for publication June 2011. Currently working on a new series. Margaret and her husband live in Southern California and have three grown children.
Dear Reader:
I’ll let you in on a little secret. As a schoolgirl I hated history. Nothing seemed more torturous than memorizing dates and battles. It wasn’t until my teens when I read Gone With the Wind that I discovered historical novels. That’s when I came to realize that history wasn’t about dates or even war; it was about people and how they reacted to the ever changing world around them.
I especially like the nineteenth century as it mirrors so much of what is happening in our lives today. The 1800s had its share of depressions, recessions, bank failures, and political scandals. Even back then they were talking about health reform. That’s not all; almost every household was bombarded with scams, advertisements, and foreign princes asking for money.
Sound like your e-mail? You’re close. Only back then it was called the telegraph and it changed the way Victorians lived, did business, and yes, even fell in love. Wire romances bloomed and one couple even married by telegraph. In 1886, The Electrical World magazine ran an article titled The Dangers of Wired Romances. That same article would no doubt be just as timely today.
So now that you know a little bit about why I write historical novels, let me tell you about my latest book, A SUITOR FOR JENNY. This is the 2nd book in my Rocky Creek Romance series and I have a special place in my heart for it.
The idea for the book came to me in a dusty Kansas museum. While rifling through old newspaper clippings I came across a meeting notice for “The Society for the Protection and Preservation of Male Independence.” I have no idea what happened to the group or even if they ever succeeded in their goal to remain single, but I know a book idea when I see it and I pounced.
From that clipping came the idea to have my heroine Jenny Higgins breeze into a town of confirmed (and yes, even unsuitable bachelors) to seek husbands for her two unwilling sisters. Fireworks, anyone?
History may not be a laughing matter but I guarantee you’ll laugh at this battle of the sexes—and you won’t have to memorize a single date.
Blessings,
Margaret
Visit me at: www.margaretbrownley.com
Resident blogger: www.petticoatsandpistols.com
Advice for landing a husband from A Suitor for Jenny
• When looking for a husband it’s best to go where the odds are in your favor.
• A good man is like a good corset. He will always be supportive and never leave you hanging.
• Charm and composure must prevail at all times. If a gunfight erupts, exit the scene with grace and serenity.
Book Giveaway Drawing: To enter, leave a comment to this post and include your contact information. Entries will be accepted until this Wednesday at midnight (Pacific Time/US). The winner will be announced on this blog on Friday. Detailed rules of giveaways on this blog are located in the footer of this blog.
Please consider becoming a follower of this blog's feed or signing up to receive blog posts by email.
Note: Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits from purchases made through links from this blog.
Friday, October 15, 2010
And We Have a Winner!!! "White Doves" by Shannon Taylor Vannatter
Congratulations go to Holly, who won the giveaway copy of "White Doves," by Shannon Taylor Vannatter. Thanks to all who stopped by Book Readers Central. To receive notification of future interviews, book reviews and giveaways, be sure you are signed up to receive blog posts by email or feed.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Whistlestop Wednesday Book Review: "Healer" by Linda Windsor
A mother's dying prophecy foretells the fate of her infant daughter. Brenna of Gowrys grows into a gifted healer living as a fugitive from her mother's murderer. When she rescues a man who is ambushed and left for dead, she finds he bears wounds that are more than physical. Amid their growing attraction, they must each answer the call of destiny. In their hands lies the hope of peace.
But what will it cost to end a blood feud?
Linda Windsor did a fine job of portraying Arthurian Scotland in Healer, the first of the Brides of Alba trilogy, and even provides glimpses of the Pendragon King, his Gwenhyfar and Merlin Emrys. Brenna's all-encompassing forgiveness sometimes came across as a bit cloying but this quibble seems petty compared to the overall quality of this page-turning book. I highly recommend Healer for adult readers who enjoy historical fiction set in Scotland.
Note: Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Meet and Greet Monday: Shannon Taylor Vannatter
Book Giveaway!
Read the details at the end of this post.
Central Arkansas author, Shannon Taylor Vannatter is a stay-at-home mom/pastor’s wife/
writer. White Roses, her debut novel is now available through heartsongpresents.com and
available in stores in November. Two more books in the series will follow: White Doves
releases to the book club in October and stores in April and White Pearls releases to the
book club in January and stores in July.
Vannatter hopes to entertain Christian women and plant seeds in the non-believer's
heart as her characters struggle with real-life issues. Their journeys, from ordinary lives
to extraordinary romance through Christ-centered relationships demonstrate that love
doesn't conquer all, Jesus does.
Vannatter’s short stories appeared in Mature Living and The Writers' Journal, in 2009.
She has taught fiction workshops for several writers' groups including: Arkansas
Inspirational Writers, Cleburne County Writers' Guild, Fiction Writers of Central
Arkansas, and White County Creative Writers. She's contracted to teach workshops in
2010 at the Life Press Christian Writers' Conference in Memphis, TN and the Ozark
Creative Writers' Conference in Eureka Springs, AR.
Dear Reader,
Note: Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Learn more about Shannon and her books at http://shannonvannatter.com/. On her Inkslinger blog, she celebrates true love stories, inspirational author’s real-life romances, insight into the love lives of their fictional characters, book excerpts, romantic destinations, and book giveaways.
Read the details at the end of this post.
Central Arkansas author, Shannon Taylor Vannatter is a stay-at-home mom/pastor’s wife/
writer. White Roses, her debut novel is now available through heartsongpresents.com and
available in stores in November. Two more books in the series will follow: White Doves
releases to the book club in October and stores in April and White Pearls releases to the
book club in January and stores in July.
Vannatter hopes to entertain Christian women and plant seeds in the non-believer's
heart as her characters struggle with real-life issues. Their journeys, from ordinary lives
to extraordinary romance through Christ-centered relationships demonstrate that love
doesn't conquer all, Jesus does.
Vannatter’s short stories appeared in Mature Living and The Writers' Journal, in 2009.
She has taught fiction workshops for several writers' groups including: Arkansas
Inspirational Writers, Cleburne County Writers' Guild, Fiction Writers of Central
Arkansas, and White County Creative Writers. She's contracted to teach workshops in
2010 at the Life Press Christian Writers' Conference in Memphis, TN and the Ozark
Creative Writers' Conference in Eureka Springs, AR.
Dear Reader,
Hi, I’m Shannon Taylor Vannatter. I appreciate Janalyn for inviting me back to Book Readers Central. I live in rural Arkansas
I started reading romance at the age of twelve. My mom would scour the library until she found wholesome books. After I married and went to work, I didn’t have time to read for several years. About five years into our marriage, my husband started working from until eight or nine in the evening. My workday ended at five and my evenings were suddenly long, boring, and lonely.
To fill the empty hours, I started reading again and was amazed that there so few clean romances. In the span of about ten years, wholesome books had disappeared. If I managed to find a clean read, I’d get something else by the same author, and be disappointed to find it wasn’t clean.
My husband began working normal hours and my reading ended once again. I had my own romance going on. Fast forward about eight years and my husband started working evening hours again. Once again, I turned to the library and was once again disappointed. I thought about the story I’d carried in my head since I was fifteen and finally realized it could be a book. I promised myself that if I ever got a computer, I’d write a clean romance like I’d love to read but couldn’t find.
Three years later, my father-in-law gave me his old computer. As soon as we got it set up, I started writing that book in my head. The more I wrote, the more my characters prayed, talked to God, and went to church. I realized that I couldn’t just write a clean romance, that I don’t believe romance can exist without God in the center of the relationship. And so my clean romance turned into an inspirational romance. After I finished it, I went to the library to find out how to get it published. The librarian led me to a Market Guide that listed all the publishers and what they were looking for and I realized there was an inspirational market.
For years, I’d gone to the Christian book stores and went straight to the music, totally missing out on all those clean romances. It took nine and a half years to learn my craft and sign a contract. It wasn’t an easy road to publication, but well worth it. It’s indescribable how it makes me feel when a reader takes the time to e-mail or send a letter letting me know they enjoyed my book. It’s still surreal to know that people I don’t know are reading the words God put on my heart.
White Roses is the first book in a series. I feel a kinship with the heroine, Adrea because she’s falling in love with a pastor. The series is set in real Arkansas
In book 2, White Doves, the heroine is the Romance postmaster. Book 3, White Pearls is set in the historic Darden Gifford house in Rose Bud. In the book, the heroine is restoring the house and turning it into a bed and breakfast. I enjoyed setting the stories in these tiny towns and researching the area.
Purchase White Roses: http://www.heartsongpresents.com/book/detail/9781602607552/
Purchase White Doves: http://www.heartsongpresents.com/book/detail/9781602609952/
Note: Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Learn more about Shannon and her books at http://shannonvannatter.com/. On her Inkslinger blog, she celebrates true love stories, inspirational author’s real-life romances, insight into the love lives of their fictional characters, book excerpts, romantic destinations, and book giveaways.
Book Giveaway Drawing: To enter for a free copy of White Doves, leave a comment to this post and include your contact information. Entries without contact information will become ineligible. Entries will be accepted until this Thursday at midnight (Pacific Time/US). The winner will be announced on this blog on Friday. Detailed rules of giveaways on this blog are located in the footer.
Friday, October 8, 2010
And We Have a Winner!!! "A Memory Between Us" by Sarah Sundin
Congratulations go to Marjorie, who won the giveaway drawing for a free copy of "A Memory Between Us" by Sarah Sundin.
Thanks go to everyone who visited Book Readers Central and to those who commented on Sarah's interview. To stay informed on future giveaways, interviews, book reviews and book highlights, sign up for email delivery of posts or to receive this blog's feed.
** Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Thanks go to everyone who visited Book Readers Central and to those who commented on Sarah's interview. To stay informed on future giveaways, interviews, book reviews and book highlights, sign up for email delivery of posts or to receive this blog's feed.
** Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Whistlestop Wednesday Book Highlight: Get-It-Done Guy's 9 Steps to Work Less and Do More
Are you beyond busy? Overwhelmed? Stever Robbins, the Get-It-Done Guy, outlines 9 Steps to Work Less and Do More in his new book. I'll provide a review in a week or two. He describes his book in the video, below.
Read the Introduction and First Chapter
Note: Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Read the Introduction and First Chapter
Note: Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Meet and Greet Monday: Sarah Sundin
Find details, below.
Sarah Sundin lives in northern California with her husband and three children. When she isn’t ferrying kids to soccer and karate, she works on-call as a hospital pharmacist and teaches Sunday school. She belongs to American Christian Fiction Writers and Christian Authors Network. She is the author of the Wings of Glory series—A Distant Melody (Revell, March 2010), A Memory Between Us (September 2010), and Blue Skies Tomorrow (August 2011).
BRC: How would you describe your newest book?
A Memory Between Us is the second book in the Wings of Glory series, which follows the three Novak brothers, B-17 bomber pilots with the US Eighth Air Force stationed in England during World War II. Each book stands alone.
In A Memory Between Us, Major Jack Novak has never failed to meet a challenge—until he meets army nurse Lieutenant Ruth Doherty. When Jack lands in the army hospital after a plane crash, he makes winning Ruth's heart a top priority mission. But he has his work cut out for him. Not only is Ruth focused on her work in order to support her orphaned siblings back home, she carries a shameful secret that keeps her from giving her heart to any man. Can Jack break down her defenses? Or are they destined to go their separate ways?
BRC: What message do you hope it conveys?
I never write a novel with a message in mind, but I do hope my readers will learn from my characters’ experiences. Shame serves a purpose—to bring you to ask God’s forgiveness—but when it persists after forgiveness, that’s not God talking. Shame burdens so many people and holds them back from the wonderful plans God has for them. I hope my readers will learn to truly accept forgiveness, shove off shame, and allow God to use them. I also hope they see the insidious nature of pride and learn to trust in the Lord a bit more each day.
BRC: What did you enjoy most about writing this book?
Almost everything! I really enjoyed the historical research, to the point of getting ecstatic when I found copies of the pilot’s manual for the B-17 bomber and the Army Air Force B-17 training film. Sick, really. But I also love the pre-writing stage, the actual writing, even the editing. And my favorite part of all is when I’m deep in a scene and it flows. So much of this story wrote itself. Any time I put Jack and Ruth in the same room, the banter flew. I just transcribed their dialogue. It was a lot fun.
BRC: What did you dislike most about writing this book?
The hardest scene for me to write was near the end when my heroine had to face her great ordeal. The poor thing had been through so much in the story so far, and I found myself wanting to back off and resolve the scene early. But I couldn’t. I had to keep pushing the scene and pushing Ruth to the brink, because I knew only when she faced her darkest moment would she see the truth she needed. Argh. I think the Lord must have similar feelings when we go through trials. He knows the lessons we’ll learn, which is why He lets us stay there, but it must grieve Him.
BRC: What inspired you to become a writer?
I was born into a long line of readers. During my childhood, my mother read to my sister and me, shared books with us, and took us to the library weekly. As a child, I was a social reject—buck teeth and big words do not make a winning combination on the playground—so I made friends with the characters in books. Yes, they have therapy for that. But it stimulated my imagination and encouraged me to lose myself in my own stories as well. However, I didn’t consider a writing career. Instead I chose a practical career in pharmacy which allowed me to work on-call and stay home with our three children. Then in 2000, I had a dream with such intriguing characters that I felt compelled to write their story. That first novel will never be published, nor should it, but it got me started.
BRC: Tell us about your writing process.
Since I write historicals, I do lots of research beforehand. It’s frustrating to get halfway through a book and realize a crucial part of your story won’t work historically. I also do lots of pre-writing, including detailed character charts, a plot chart to track subplots and story arcs, and scene lists with everything from the date, the weather, outfits, goals and conflict, and scene ideas. Then comes the rough draft. I’m odd—I still write the first draft longhand, but when I cuddle on my couch with pencil and paper, the writing flows. I enter each chapter in the computer a few weeks afterward, which serves as my first edit. These chapters then go to my critique groups. Once my rough draft is complete, I do a content edit, analyzing the story and characters, and incorporating input from critiques. Even though I outline beforehand, my characters still surprise me, and changes have to be made. Finally, I do a thorough copy edit before turning it in to my publisher.
BRC: What are you working on now?
I just finished my editor’s content edit on Blue Skies Tomorrow, the third book in the Wings of Glory series, which comes out August 2011. I’m also doing preliminary work on another series also set during World War II.
BRC: What books do you enjoy reading?
I gravitate toward the classics, women’s fiction, and contemporary or historical fiction—but it has to have a romantic thread or I lose interest. I also love a good suspense novel and anything with humor.
BRC: Where can readers buy your book?
Your local bookstore or on-line at Amazon, ChristianBook.com, Barnes & Noble, Borders, etc.
BRC: Where can readers find you online?
Website: http://www.sarahsundin.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sarahsundin
Book Giveaway Drawing: To enter for a free copy of A Memory Between Us, leave a comment to this post and include your contact information. Entries without contact information will become ineligible. Entries will be accepted until this Thursday at midnight (Pacific Time/US). The winner will be announced on this blog on Friday. Detailed rules of giveaways on this blog are located in the footer. Note: Janalyn Voigt is an Amazon Associate and benefits when books are purchased on Amazon.com through links from Book Readers Central.
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