Showing posts with label Ashley York. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ashley York. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Ashley York Doing The #EggcerptExchange for Curse of the Healer





BLURB:

After the death of Brian Boru in 1014, a legend arose of a healer so great she could raise a man from the dead, with a power so strong it could make any warrior the next high king of Éire...and to steal it away from her, he need only possess her. 

Fated to be a healer…

Aednat has spent her entire life training to be the great healer, knowing she must remain alone. When she meets Diarmuid, the intense attraction she feels toward him shakes her resolve to believe in such a legend. If she gives in to the passion he ignites in her, can she settle for being less?

Destined to be his…

Diarmuid of Clonascra is renowned for his bravery in battle. Only one thing daunts him: the prospect of taking a wife. The safest course would be to keep his distance from Aednat, the bold, headstrong healer who's far too tempting for his peace of mind. But his overking orders him to protect her from a group of craven warriors intent on kidnapping her to steal her power.

What starts as duty for Diarmuid quickly transforms into something more. Aednat's power might be at risk, but so is his closed-off heart.



EXCERPT:
“The lad learned his lesson.” Aednat spat the words right back at the man.
“Ye said yerself he’d be doing it again.” Despite the even keel of his voice, his increasing anger was unmistakable. “Or am I so old and feeble that my hearing is failing me?”
Staring in the face of his obvious vitality and strength, she hesitated. A finer specimen of a well-honed man she’d not seen. “I do not really believe—”
“NO?” A sheer wall of exasperation now, he waited. His square jaw tensed beneath the shadow of dark stubble. “Mayhap the next time ye’ll find his young body impaled on a rock at the bottom of the cliff.”
The menacing declaration, delivered in a low, controlled manner, made her gasp. The image flashing through her mind caused it to feel real. She slapped the man’s face so hard, his beard burned the palm of her hand.
Aednat froze, horrified at her own reaction. Striking a man was no small offense, and if this man was a ri, the consequences would be serious. His eyes widened right before he caught her arm and yanked her close. Her breath caught, though his grip was not overly tight. They stood that way for a long moment—his head lowered to hers so they stood nose to nose, his broad chest brushing against her forearm in time with his heavy breathing. His gaze dropped to slowly follow up her length before settling again on her face.
That he continued to study her kept her fully watchful. His features relaxed, but she sensed mounting tension in him. The many possibilities of what he may be thinking flitted through her mind like little mice avoiding a hungry hawk. Outrage. Indignation. Superiority.
“I forego the fine I have every right to demand for yer action. Instead, I demand a kiss.”
He delivered the words as a man in authority. And he did not look away.
A kiss? Heat poured off him, but it was no longer anger riding him. She forced down the lump in her throat, holding his intense gaze as her thoughts raced. She had never been kissed by a man. Or kissed a man, but it was not a high price to pay to dismiss the entire incident.
Refusing would certainly result in a steeper demand, and the last thing she wanted to do was to cause any problems for her overking and cousin. He acted as her father, so any honor price demanded or paid could be half his worth. A king held no special power outside his own túath, but at a gathering this size, ruffling any fine feathers was to be avoided.
Aednat glanced at the warrior’s lips. His eyes brightened and she struggled to breath evenly as she held his gaze, anticipation making a mockery of her show of bravery. She wetted her lips and his long nose flared ever so slightly.

BUY LINKS



BIO

Aside from two years spent in the wilds of the Colorado mountains, Ashley York is a proud life-long New Englander and a hardcore romantic. She has an MA in History which brings with it, through many years of research, a love for primary documents and the smell of musty old libraries. With her author's imagination, she likes to write about people who could have lived alongside those well-known giants from the past.

AUTHOR LINK:  www.ashleyyorkauthor.com


Thanks for sharing,


Tina

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

#FallingIntoLove Book by Ashley York - The Saxon Bride


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Blurb:


In war torn England the battle lines between Saxon and Norman are clearly drawn. The Saxons must fight for everything they have in the hopes of winning their country back from the Normans who are determined to break their resistance. Rowena Godwinson, the sole remaining member of the defeated royal family, stands proudly against the Normans that would trample them underfoot.

When the new King decrees she marry a powerful Norman knight, her subjugation appears to be complete. The handsome soldier with the kind brown eyes and gentle touch is a threat to her determination to defy the interlopers. Can she hold firm to her Saxon heritage and refuse to give in to his advances?


John of Normandy resists marriage and wants only to prove himself worthy of William's trust but when rewarded by King William with the gift of an earldom and a Saxon bride, he balks at marriage, driven by the guilt of knowing her father died by his sword. However, John's reluctance is soon replaced by a deep desire to please this woman and win her over as well as her people.


 As their people look to them for guidance and peace, can John and Rowena find a love that unites all of England?


 

Bio:
Always an avid romance reader herself, Ashley York enjoys bringing history to life through vibrant and meaningful characters, writing historical romance novels full of passion and intrigue set in the 11th and 12th century British Isles. Her newest release, The Saxon Bride, is the first in the Norman Conquest series.

When she is not writing, talking about writing, or thinking about writing, Ashley relaxes with visits to the local pubs listening to live Celtic tunes. She lives in southern New England with her husband and 3 very spoiled animals.

Links for Ashley 

links: www.ashleyyorkauthor.com
email: ashleyyorkauthor@gmail.com
Twitter: @ashley1066york


EXCERPT:

A Norman. I have been given to a Norman to wife.

Rowena Godwinson, daughter of the late Earl of Essex and the last living member of that powerful Saxon family, stood before her reflection in the polished brass. The wedding gown passed down through three generations of Godwin women before her, draped softly across the shoulders, skimming down her waist and falling over the tips of her deerskin slippers. She blinked back with vacant eyes.

Fear tripped up her spine and her stomach clenched. She had lived among the victors for nigh on five years now. Their disdain for her people was quite obvious. Now the man who had usurped her own uncle as rightful king at the Battle of Hastings had ordered her to marry. With both parents dead, she was his ward.

Rowena clenched her teeth and turned to the window. She glimpsed the slate roof of the chapel beyond the trees where the nuptials would take place this very day. Her family's chapel. Countless celebrations with uncles, close friends, and more cousins than she could name, had taken place there. Those were happy years.

"My lady?"

Rowena looked at the drawn face of her handmaiden, Joan. The blonde sheen of her hair, long gone with the stress of the circumstances and occupation they were all forced to live under.

"Yes?"

Joan gulped. "Do you think he will be kind to you? Tonight, I mean?"

Rowena's breath caught in her throat. The marriage bed. How would her husband treat her? With kindness? As her husband, he gained much by this union. A lot of responsibility, yes, but also power. Some men loved power.

She tipped her chin up.

"I believe he will be kind as I will give him no reason not to be."

Joan's eyes rounded. Rowena smiled tightly.

"Fear not, Joan. I will be amicable."

"My lady, would that I could impart upon you my own knowledge, but I have none. Your mother's death before she prepared you leaves you in a bad way."

"Perhaps he will be a gentle man. John." His name was all she knew.

"Yes, my lady. He is one of William's most trusted knights."

"A warrior." Rowena's tone was flat and for an instant she saw again her father. Cold and dead. Blood all around. She forced the memory aside. "Then he will be a good protector."

"Yes, but of whom?"

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Thanks for sharing your book with us,


Tina

 

 

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Doing the #EggcerptExchange Can Hurt with "The Bruised Thistle"

“The Bruised Thistle” – part of the Eggcerpt Exchange Fun.
Blurb:
Iseabail MacNaughton, the orphaned daughter of a Scottish laird, is forced to flee her home and seek assistance against her lecherous uncle, who has usurped her family’s land. When she meets Seumas, a strong and valiant mercenary, she cannot help wondering if he could be the one to stand with her against her uncle. But with a price on her head and enemies on all sides, her trust is not something she can afford to give lightly… 
Seumas MacDonell is a man wounded in body and soul, driven by guilt. When he rescues Iseabail from one of his men, he cannot deny the attraction he feels for her, despite the wound that left him unable to act on it. In the hope of finding redemption for his sins, he agrees to help Iseabail…but will his feelings for her prove to be the ultimate obstacle to his salvation?Image
Now the Eggcerpt
“It was quite an adventure,” Calum chirped. “Then they called after me  ’thief, theif’ and chased me when I took off on Seumas’s horse.”
Seumas smiled at Calum. “You did fine, lad.”
Calum came to stand beside the man, rubbing the long ears of his pet. ” Did you give her the herbs?”
“Nae, I didn’t need them.” Seumas pierced Iseabail with his look. “I was able to get the fever down by other means.”
Calum frowned and looked between them. “How?”
“I took her to the river.”
“Oh.” Calum nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I will go out and find some food for my rabbit, if you think it safe.”
“Do not go far, lad. There is plenty near here that vermin can eat.”
Iseabail shifted in his arms. “Can you put me down now?”
He did not answer, nor did he comply. Instead, he inched his hand up her neck and started working little circles into her skin. She fought the desire to close her eyes. It felt so good.”
“Do ye not want to know how I got your fever down?”
“You said you brought me to the river.”
He held her gaze then pulled her toward him, and she knew he was going to kiss her. His lips were warm, and the lightening surged through her again. He kissed her lightly at first then more urgently. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
He straightened abruptly then placed her on her cloak. “Ye should get some sleep.”
Seumas pushed past Calum as he was coming back in.
“Told you he was mad,” Calum said.
 
Purchase at: http://www.amazon.com
@ashley1066york