FAIR BORDER BRIDE excerpt

Today I thought I'd add a small excerpt from Fair Border Bride.  Set in  the rough world of the borders between England and Scotland in the mid sixteenth century, a pretty girl distracts Harry from his mission:

Harry gritted his teeth, offered his most elegant bow and watched them go. The young lady tossed a swift, laughing glance over her shoulder before the crowd took her away.

Harry turned to the stallholder. “Who was that?”

Of little height but ample girth, the stallholder regarded him from shrewd blue eyes. “Fancy ye chances, lad? That was the lady of Aydon Hall. Margery Carnaby and her daughter Alina. They’re a-carin’ for Sir Reynold, him that’s ill and like to die soon.”

“Aydon? Just north of here?”

“Aye. Right by the Ay Burn. Ye’ll be a stranger to these parts yourself, sir?”

Harry saw no need to deny it. “Travelling north to Edinburgh.”

“Oh, aye. And ye’d be from Lonnun, then, sir?”

Harry gave her his best smile. There was no harm in letting everyone think he was from the south. In fact, it was to his advantage. “How’d ye guess?”

The dark wool shawl draping her shoulders moved as she shrugged. “Ye don’t sound as if ye come from these parts. Ye sound more like gentry. I thought o’ Lonnun, that’s all.”

“It is quieter hereabouts than London.”

Mary handed him a neatly wrapped package and named her price. “Quiet, d’ye think, lad? It’s but a hundred miles to Edinburgh, and ye’ll travel some o’ the most dangerous land in the country to get there.”

Counting out coins into her palm, Harry hesitated, and his gaze rose from the coins to the woman’s rosy, thread-veined face.

“Dangerous for everyone, or just for me?”

Mary choked back a laugh. “There’s outlaws and broken men up in’t hills, my bonny lad, and they’ll shake loose the Border whenever they take a fancy to dee it. They’ll not stop to ask ye name, never mind ye destination, before they slit ye throat and ride off wi ye purse.” She looked him up and down. “They’ll no’ forget ye sword nor ye dagger, either, not even that bonny jewel in your cap. Nekkid as a babe ye’ll be, when those limmers leave ye.”

He resumed counting out coins into her plump hand. “I’d best take care how I ride then,” he said. “For ride I will.”

Her blue eyes twinkled. “Luck be wi ye, sir.”

Harry slid the small package inside his doublet and wandered on, whistling silently through his teeth, wondering if he should have asked about guides for the next stage of his journey. Better not; he didn’t want every village idiot knowing his business. He’d use his own judgement in finding a man who knew the routes through the hills.

Pheasants and SHADOWS

For those who may never have a holiday in England, this bird is a pheasant. Its body is about the size of a football and when the sunlight gleams on all those irridescent feathers, its a handsome creature.

Today I thought I'd give you another excerpt from SHADOWS and I've chosen the very first night at the mill, when Melissa has opted to sleep on the sofa in the iving room rather than share a bed with Rory. So, here we go....


Melissa looked at her watch. It was well past midnight. The sofa was comfortable, but the unaccustomed heat kept her awake. Spending summer in a romantic old water mill in the Dordogne did have disadvantages. When she ran tentative fingers over her flanks, her skin was slick with moisture.
The warm breeze from the open window moved through the room, but brought little relief. Crickets chirped so vigorously they might have been sitting on the hearthstone five feet away. A cold drink would be good. She scrambled off the sofa and tiptoed across the floorboards, hoping she wouldn't step on any insect life. With her hands under the kitchen tap, she welcomed the gush of cold water, gulped some from her cupped palm and ran her damp hands over her face.
Fumbling her way through the shadows to the door, she released the latch and stepped outside.

That was better. Cool air breathed across her skin. Ignoring the quick rustle of lizards scurrying toward crevices in the old walls, she strolled to the chairs, pale and cold in the moonlight.
She sank into one of them, and flinched at the coldness of the plastic against her skin. Stars blinked above the massed ranks of dark trees. A breeze that never reached the valley floor swept across the topmost leaves of the tall trees in the meadow and produced the soft susurration in the air that was already familiar to her.
Rory slept in the big bed on the other side of the wall. He did not like their current sleeping arrangements. The tightening of his mouth, the flexing of his jaw muscles had shown that, and said very clearly that he'd let her have her way but he was not the kind of man who gave up easily. Had his pride suffered when she refused to share his bed? He had certainly been surprised. Would he try and persuade her, or sulk until she gave in?

It had been a good decision not to let Rory sleep on the sofa for then she would have felt beholden to him. Much better that she owed him neither gratitude nor thanks at this point.

She stroked her thighs. Already the slickness dried from her skin. A wisp of long grass whisked along the flagstones, breathed across her foot and vanished. Rory had shown her a shed snakeskin as a warning not to be frightened if she saw the owner one day. The fragile, almost translucent skin had been trapped between the stones of the bolly and the old drain not four feet from where she sat.

A cold breeze wandered by. Melissa hugged herself against the sudden chill. Perhaps this was a crazy idea after all. Flickers of movement caught her eye. For no reason, her heart thudded in her chest. With her teeth pressing on her lower lip, she stared at the western end of the bolly where one of the four oak pillars supporting the tiled roof stood out sharp and clear in the moon's glow.

Beyond them, the shrubs and rose bushes were gray against the dusty, moonlit ribbon of the drive. Nothing moved. She heard nothing but the soft sound of the breeze, yet her heart bounced faster, as if she were in danger. Muscles tense, she sat poised, ready to run.

The shadows made it difficult to see anything. The blackness moved and twitched close in against the house wall, less than ten feet away. A pale shifting blur morphed into hands and a face. Melissa's fingers clung to the chair arms while she strained to see through the darkness. Hair lifted on the back of her neck and goose bumps sprang on her arms. She stared at two pale blurs, one above the other, moving very close together. Sure it must be some young couple seeking privacy, she opened her mouth to call out. But some instinct held her rigid and silent. What if they weren't real?

Her heart beat so loudly that whoever lurked by the wall must surely hear it. She forced herself to inhale slowly and quietly. Her heartbeat slowed a little. The air around her was cold. It's always cold when—she slammed down on the thought about ghosts before it formed in her mind. She looked at the space between herself and the door, and the door and the dark, shifting shape.
She could reach the door. She had to.

The chair scraped across the flagstones and drowned the slap of her bare feet as she hurtled into the mill, slammed the door and rattled the bolt home.
Flexed from the hips, palms braced against the half glass door, she waited, mouth open, panting. Through the mottled glass and the wrought iron Perigourdine goose that guarded it, moonlight lit the grass beyond the bolly. Nothing moved. Her breathing slowed. She remembered she'd seen a baseball bat by the door and groped for it without taking her gaze from the door. The smooth wooden shaft came comfortingly to her hand.

Something creaked behind her. Melissa whirled on a sharp indrawn breath. The bat cocked and ready, she watched the door to the hall open. A large, shadowy form ambled into the living room. "Wha's the matter? Did you shout?"
"There's somebody out there."
"Out where?"
"On the bolly." She flung out an arm and rattled her knuckles on the goose guard. "Ow."
Rory ducked his head, ran both hands over his face. Straightening his shoulders, he walked toward the door. "I'd better have a look."

Melissa stepped aside. He stooped, fumbled for the bolt in the gloom and pulled the door open. Melissa held out the baseball bat. "Take this."
Rory blinked at the three feet of pale, solid wood and made no move to take it. "I could kill someone with that."
"Take it." She thrust it into his hand. It seemed imperative he have some protection. There was something nasty out there.

Reluctantly, Rory hefted it and stepped across the threshold. "Put the lights on."
Melissa pushed the door curtain aside and ran her palm down the bank of switches. Light bloomed inside the mill, and floodlights snapped on at each end of the bolly. Startled birds squawked, complained and clattered about in the trees.

"There's nothing here, Melissa. Come and look." He sounded wide awake.
Suddenly aware that she was wearing only a tee shirt, Melissa whipped the door curtain across her hips and peeped around the doorjamb.

Moonlight emphasized the broad shoulders tapering down to a lean waist and flat stomach. Wrinkled, striped boxers hung low on one hip. His hair stuck up about his head, and the baseball bat dangled from the fingers of one hand. The width of his chest and the prominent muscles of his arms and thighs were reassuring.

"They might—" Her breath caught in her throat as all her initial attraction to Rory rushed back and choked her. She coughed and tried again. "They might have gone round the back of the mill."

**************************************************************
There's a trailer for this on YouTube. Have you seen it yet? Click
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGml0vxiJU8

SHADOWS is available from Amazon http://tinyurl.com/6xjxb7j
and Sapphire Blue http://tinyurl.com/5uykp67

Shadow is out!

My book is up! Shadows is on sale at Sapphire Blue, Amazon and All Romance Books. $6 dollars at SB and ARB, £6.91 at Amazon.com. I haven't checked other places yet.

Click here to go to Sapphire Blue's page.

A word of warning - this morning I noticed that Two Lips has a review for Shadows, but it's the old 2006 version, before I expanded the story by 30,000 words - and changed the names of the two main characters!

Here's an excerpt when Melissa has just arrived at the old mill:

The heat bounced off the pale flagstones, and bees and dragonflies buzzed the riot of flowers and weeds surrounding two sides of the patio. From the third side the patio opened out on to rough meadowland stippled with half a dozen tall trees, and a line of shrubs and bushes told her a stream bordered the property. Standing in the heat and scent of dust, lavender and geranium, listening to the delicious rustle of leaves in the tall trees, she knew she would like it here. Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath of delight.

Something made her glance up to the higher level. A tall figure in black stood on the grassy patch beside the bolly, watching her. Who was he? Had someone come to visit Rory? The stranger was young, and handsome, even if he looked like a priest in that long, dark robe. As she stared, he raised a hand, palm out and strode off into the trees.
Rory’s voice called through the open window. As she trotted up the steps, she looked for the stranger but he had disappeared along an overgrown grassy track leading away through the trees. Rory walked out onto the bolly, a glass in each hand.

At the sight of him in slacks and checked shirt, a jolt of pleasure ran through her. He looked even more handsome out of the elegant suits. “Who was that man?” She accepted the glass he offered.
“What man?”
Melissa gestured to the grassy area. “The man who stood there two minutes ago and waved at me. He walked away up the old track.”

Rory frowned. “I didn’t see anyone. Jonny said the track is still a public bridleway but he’s never known anyone use it. There’s a monastery at the top of the hill. Maybe the track is a shortcut.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Let’s hope we’re not about to be invaded by holiday-makers tramping by every day. Especially not the clergy.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Dinner’s just about ready. If you sit down, I’ll bring the food out.”

The white table already held a bowl of salad, a wicker basket of bread and the opened bottle of wine. He was fast and efficient. No sooner had she taken her seat than he put a plate of steak before her and offered the salad bowl.
She tilted her head back and smiled at him. How good to have a man prepared to cook for her. “This looks delicious. Does Jonny plan to do a lot of work here?”
He picked up his cutlery and cut into his steak. “The grand plan is for two bedrooms and a bathroom on the lower level so Jonny can invite friends. The bathroom’s finished, but the rest is a muddle.”

That meant no bedrooms on the lower floor, and only one on this level. An ugly suspicion bloomed in her mind. Melissa heaped salad onto her plate and replaced the steel salad servers carefully in the bowl. “Then am I right in thinking there is only one bedroom here?”
The chilly edge on her voice brought his head up.

His peacock blue eyes narrowed. “’fraid so. That isn’t going to be a problem, is it?”

Dismay at his deception roared through her, and small flash of fear and timidity followed it. Yes, one bedroom most certainly would be a problem. She wasn't ready. Not yet. Talk about being taken for granted—the conceited ass expected her to tumble into bed with him without a second thought. She inhaled sharply. “It is presumptuous of you to assume I’ll share a bed with you right away.”

He stopped eating and stared at her, surprise etched into the lines of his face.

Had she misjudged him? Maybe she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. He'd be insulted if that was the case. So she offered a sweet smile and spoke gently. “Unless I’m wrong and you intend to sleep on the sofa?”

“Presumptuous?” His gaze darted across her face. Presumably he was trying to read her expression. He didn’t know how to answer her. Melissa lifted her brows slightly, smiled without opening her mouth and waited.
He put down his cutlery and picked up his wine glass. “What do you mean?”

She frowned. How could he pretend he did not know what she meant? “We are not lovers.” She bit off each word. “We may become so, but right now I expect a room of my own.” Heat rose through her skin, and her hand trembled on the rim of the table. She whipped it out of sight. Let him make of it what he would.

Rory swallowed too soon, choked and coughed.
He flung himself out of his chair, coughing, one fist to his mouth as he strode across the bolly. As the fit lessened, he thrust one hand against the oak upright supporting the roof and stood there, head down, breathing hard.

Annoyance did not stop her admiring the way his shoulders heaved with his breathing, or the graceful way he stood even when he was in some distress. His attention not on her. It was the first time she'd seen him rattled, and his reaction interested her. When his breathing calmed, he slowly strolled back to the table and took his seat.

His eyes still watered a little, and he blinked rapidly to clear them. “Christ, I feel as if all sorts of pits are yawning at my feet. Would you believe me if I said I honestly hadn’t thought about it?”

Melissa sipped her wine. She didn't believe him for a moment. “How could you ignore it? There is only one bed.”

He winced, as if her words pained him.