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Tag: Medieval Romance (Page 1 of 3)

All in the name of love…

Rolf stood over his opponent, his sword aimed at the fallen man’s chest. “Do you yield or do you wish to continue your quest to win yourself a bride?”

“I yield,” the knight growled tossing aside his sword.

“’Tis a wise choice,” Rolf declared with a smirk knowing he had one less man to defeat in order to win the fair Lynet as his bride.

Leaving the field, he made his way to the raised platform where the lady who owned his heart watched whilst he won yet another match. She smiled at his approach and whispered something in her sister’s ear afore she left her side.

She stood at the stairs and he held out his hand to assist her. Her fingertips trembled in his palm afore he raised them to his lips once she descended to the ground. “Lady Lynet,” he said when she raised her head to stare at him with clear blue eyes. “you are like a beam of warm sunshine to brighten my day.”

“Sir Rolf,” she murmured giving a short curtsey. “You flatter me with your words, kind sir. You have won yet another match I see?”

He chuckled. “Did you have any doubt I would not do all in my power to win?”

“’Tis not every day a woman has an entire company of men vying for her hand in marriage,” she answered whilst her smile faded.

He hated seeing her sad. Pulling off his glove, Rolf brushed her cheek. “I vow you shall not be saddled with any of these fools who think they are worthy to have you as their wife.”

Her hand came to rest on his cheek and Rolf’s heart soared knowing she at least held some small measure of affection for him. “Oh Rolf,” she said in a breathy whisper, “how I wish your words held some small measure of hope my life would turn out as I always imagined.”

Afore he could reply, a cheer upon this lists rose, and their attention turned to see who had become victorious in the next match. Rolf grimaced seeing Ian MacGillivray raising his sword in a salute to Lord Dristan and Lady Amiria. He looked down upon the lady at his side and saw for one moment her eyes sparkling in delight afore such a look faded as quickly as it had appeared.

“Lynet,” Lord Dristan called out motioning to her vacant chair next to his wife.

“I must return,” she murmured and did nothing to hide her shudder when the next two warriors took to the field. “I shall see you at the festivities this eve and look forward to when you claim your victory dance.”

But ’twas not the two soldiers upon the field that held Rolf’s attention but the woman who had yet to leave his side. He gave her a formal bow that would have rivaled any at court. “I shall look forward to claiming my prize as long as ’tis you who shall be in my arms.”

She stepped forward. A smile broke out upon her face yet again whilst she her hand moved to his chest. Gently she began to rub at the fabric on his tunic afore she took hold of the ribbon she had placed up his arm. “How I wish this tragedy was over…”

“You must needs know, my lady, I will do all in my power to win your hand,” and your love he thought but could not voice such thoughts aloud.

“I know,” Lynet replied afore she left him to resume her place next to her sister.

Rolf watched her for several moments and was even more irritated when Ian came afore the platform and bowed. Lynet lifted her chin, her gesture defiant but Rolf was not fooled into thinking the lady had no feelings for the knight who now stood afore her.

Rolf shook his head and left the lists, no longer wishing to witness the scene between Lynet and Ian. He was a fool to think the lady would come to love him as much as she had always loved Ian. But until Ian was the last man standing, Rolf would resolve himself to fight with ever fiber of his being in order to claim the lady for himself. He began to wonder what else he would have to do all in the name of love…


Rolf is a secondary character in Bluestocking Belle Sherry Ewing’s novel A Knight To Call My Own. Currently the eBook can be read in the box set Romance Ever After for just $0.99 or read it for free in Kindle Unlimited!

A bundle of novels like nothing else you’ve ever seen before – eight bestselling authors, seven top-rated novels, and one brand-new story by a NYT Bestselling author. Welcome to ROMANCE EVER AFTER!

In this collection, you’ll be swept away on the warm breezes of Time, from the romance and chivalry of Medieval & Elizabethan England, to the raw sex appeal of the Scottish Highlands, to the pageantry of the Regency era, and finally to the beautiful yet wild lands of the American West. Every hero has a heart, every heroine a fiery spirit, and every story a soul that bleeds passion. Indulge in this limited-edition collection with some of the top authors in their genre.

This bundle includes:

My Girl by Debra Holland – (NEW STORY) When a logging accident kills his friend and Felicity Woodbury’s fiancé, Lars Aagaard steps in to lend his support. To keep Felicity’s suitors at bay during her mourning period, the two act as if Lars is wooing her. But, already smitten, Lars hopes to turn the pretend courtship to real love.

The Iron Knight by Kathryn Le Veque – When hardened knight Lucien de Russe saves the life of widow Sophina de Gournay, their wonderful chance meeting starts a chain of events that could destroy them both.

The Rogue by Claire Delacroix – Ysabella knows better than to trust her charming husband—even when he insists he is being hunted. When Merlyn is killed, Ysabella is again Lady of Ravensmuir, where the truth must be hidden. Is Merlyn dead? If so, who loves her so sweetly in the night? If not, what is that wicked rogue’s scheme?

Wicked at Heart by Danelle Harmon – A Beauty-and-the-Beast tale of love and redemption between a dark and brooding marquess and the woman who is determined to heal his tortured heart.

Highland Hunger by Eliza Knight – Ceana can’t stand the arrogant Highlander she’s up against in the war games, and yet she can’t walk away. Macrath wants nothing more than to be rid of the troublesome need to protect the warrior lass. What starts out as a race to survive turns into passion to endure together.

Lady in Waiting by Denise Domning – Christopher Hollier will do anything to reclaim the title of Lord Graistan for his invalid brother. Maid-of-honor to the Virgin Queen, Anne Blanchemain hides a dangerous secret, one that sweeps them into events that might ultimately cost them their lives, and their love.

My Lady’s Treasure by Catherine Kean – Lady Faye Rivellaux is desperate to save a kidnapped child. Former crusading knight Brant Meslarches seeks redemption from his past. Forming an uneasy alliance, they search for lost riches and find treasure worth more than gold.

A Knight to Call My Own by Sherry Ewing – Lynet of Clan MacLaren knows how it feels to love someone and not have that love returned. Ian MacGillivray has returned to Berwyck in search of a bride. Who will claim the fair Lynet? The price will be high to ensure her safety and even higher to win her love.

The Seventh Son by Ashley York – The sixth son bears a curse as certain as the seventh bears a blessing. When Tadhg MacNaughton’s betrothed is ripped from his arms and married to another, he believes the legend is true. Is the warrior’s love for the Irish beauty already doomed or does fate have something else planned?

Add this bundle to your library to savor again and again!

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Cousin’s Plans Make Nunnery Look Good

nunneryLady Coira Easton stared out the window whilst she waited in her cousin’s solar with trepidation. It had been many a year since their paths had crossed and she had mixed feelings about their reunion. ’Twas not because she was afraid of him or what she had heard about his reputation over the years as the Devil’s Dragon. Nay… such was not the case. She was just uncertain as to where her life would lead her now that he was her only relation.

She knew most of what was said about Dristan of Berwyck was a falsehood. Rumor’s had reached her as far as France about her cousin’s ruthlessness upon the battlefield. But she was certain his skill with a sword was how he had become a champion knight for King Henry II. Surely he would find a place within his household for her. She hated the thought of having to join a nunnery.

The solar door swung open and he filled the space with his presence. Coira had forgotten what an impressive sight Dristan was but the welcoming smile upon his face set most of her fears to rest.

“Cousin,” he said opening his arms. “’Tis been far too long since our paths have crossed.”


She went to him and was enfolded into a fierce hug. “My Lord Dristan,” she murmured. “’Tis good to see you. Thank you for receiving me.”

“You can cease with any of that title business, Coira. We are family. As such, we need no formalities between us.”

“How are your mother and father?” she asked, wishing her own parents yet lived. He took her hand and ushered her to a seat by the fire.

“They are well, the last I heard from them.” He went to pour them a goblet of wine and Coira had the distinct feeling he did not wish to have speech about his parents.

“I pray you do not mind that I am here.”

“Mind? Why ever would I mind?”

Coira sipped her goblet whilst she watched her cousin take a seat across from her. “Your poor relation comes to beg lodging from her rich cousin does not bother you? Generally this does not sit well with most people.”

“You are hardly poor and I am not like most people. If you would take a moment to recall, I sent Morgan to find you. Hence you are welcome here.”

“You are too kind, Dristan,” she whispered in relief taking another sip of her wine…

“We will find you a suitable husband.”

… and coughed on the liquid as it began to choke her. “A husband?”

“Aye! I have several noblemen in mind that would be more than adequate to provide a good enough life for you. I will ensure none who press their suit is anything less than a knight,” he said with a satisfied smile.

Adequate? Dristan I–”

“No need to thank me. I shall see to all the details and send runners to those who I think will make a good match.” He drained his wine, stood, and came over to her side. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss upon her cheek. “’Tis good to see you, Coira. Relax whilst we have a room prepared for you and I will see you later at the evening meal.”

Dristan left just as quickly as he arrived whilst Coira sat there stunned. She had a notion a nunnery was looking more appealing than a life spent with some unknown man who would only make an adequate husband.


This is an original piece by Bluestocking Belle Sherry Ewing that gives you a behind the scene look into The Piper’s Lady which can be found in the Belles’ 2017 anthology, Never Too Late.

Blurb:

True love binds them. Deceit divides them. Will they choose love?

Lady Coira Easton spent her youth traveling with her grandfather. Now well past the age men prefer when they choose a wife, she has resigned herself to remain a maiden. But everything changes once she arrives at Berwyck Castle. She cannot resist a dashing knight who runs to her rescue, but would he give her a second look?

Garrick of Clan MacLaren can hold his own with the trained Knights of Berwyck, but as the clan’s piper they would rather he play his instruments to entertain them—or lead them into battle—than to fight with a sword upon the lists. Only when he sees a lady across the training field and his heart sings for the first time does he begin to wish to be something he is not.

Will a simple misunderstanding between them threaten what they have found in one another or will they at last let love into their hearts?

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Bio:

Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. A bestselling author, she writes historical and time travel romances all with a happily ever after ending. An Information Technology Specialist by day, she enjoys writing romance novels to awaken the soul one heart at a time at night. You can learn more about Sherry and her work on the tab above or on these social media outlets:

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Seducing the Cursed Bride

What bridegroom would choose to spend his wedding night in a prison? I, Mr. Palmer—lifelong seeker of occult knowledge—shall tell you. For I possess the inestimable ability to eavesdrop on history. To see and hear the echoes of a location, I need only stand in the space, close my eyes, and enter a trance which allows my soul to flee its mortal home and explore the boundless realm of the spiritual plane. I embarked on one such exploration a fortnight ago in Northumberland, in the ruined prison tower of Ravenwood Keep.

Two medieval warriors—brothers, I divined it—stood alone within the prison’s cold embrace.

The younger of the two spoke first. “William, are you going to tell me why you’re here? Or must I wait until we’re old and gray?”

The elder brother stalked to the dormant fireplace, then back again. “You were right, Robert. My bride does believe in the curse. She just told me.”

“Ah. And how did that drive you to spend your wedding night in a prison?”

“The stench of merry-making plagues the rest of the keep, and I need peace.”

“And ’twouldn’t look right if Ravenwood’s new lord were seen roaming about the castle when he should be enjoying the pleasures of his bed.”

William’s frown deepened. “We never made it to the bed.”

“I see. So at present, Lady Ravenwood is scared of pregnancy.”

“Not just scared. She refuses to consummate the marriage.”

Robert’s eyes widened. “Ever?”

“So she says.”

“God’s blood! ’Tis unthinkable!”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m too furious to decide.”

Robert shook his head. “You owe your success in battle to calm logic. Clear tactics. You don’t let emotion dim your judgment. ’Tis why so many fear you.”

William stared at the wall, upon which a flaming torch created a miniature battle of shadows on stone. “I know.”

Robert rubbed his chin. Then he began to pace. His footfalls created a smooth, continuous rhythm on the planked floor.

Abruptly, he stopped. “We know the curse is codswallop.”

“Utterly.”

“Can you convince your wife of this?”

“Not before she survives the birthing bed.”

Robert looked pensive and nodded slowly. “Then you must make her forget until that day arrives.”

William grunted. “One might as soon make a knight forget his sword on the battlefield.”

“Then coax her into choosing you in spite of her fears.”

“You suggest a miracle.”

“No.” Robert arched an eyebrow. “A seduction.”

Readers of The Teatime Tattler, it was then I left the brothers and returned to the present. Yet I cannot help but wonder, what happened next?

Excerpt from Flight of the Raven, by Judith Sterling:

William stood before the cold hearth with his back to the door. His commanding presence diminished the sweeping arch of the vacant fireplace.

“Leave us,” he ordered without turning. “Shut the door behind you.”
The heavy, oak door slammed shut. The stone walls reverberated from the force of it.

Emma studied the sheen of his straight, black hair, the proud set of his shoulders, and the wide, leather belt which cinched his ebony tunic at the waist. An eternity might’ve passed while she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. When at last he turned, his dark eyes blazed.

Her stomach lurched. “Y-you wished to see me?”

He glowered at her in silence. A chill of foreboding ran through her, but she stood her ground.

A full minute later, he still hadn’t spoken. Her patience waned. If he expected her to read his mind, he could think again.

She cleared her throat. “You obviously need time to collect your thoughts, so I’ll leave you to them.”

“You will stay right here,” he ruled in slow, measured words. His scorching gaze belied his smooth tone of voice. “I sent for you to discuss your betrayal.”

She swore under her breath. Someone must’ve divulged her plan to stay celibate. If only she’d told him sooner.

“I can explain,” she said.

“Save your breath. There’s only one explanation.”

“You said ‘discuss.’ A discussion requires two opinions.”

“An opinion laced with lies doesn’t count.”

“But if you—”

“Silence!”

His shout echoed off the prison walls. Her stomach churned, but she clamped her lips shut.

“Now,” he said, lower in pitch, “listen and learn. A traitor can challenge the king’s reach, but only a fool underestimates mine. My men know this. Legions of Saracens—alive and dead—know it. Wulfstan will know it too.”

“What has Wulfstan to do with this?”

William grunted. “You play innocence well.”

“Truly, I know not whereof you speak!”

“I speak of your escape…tonight…with Wulfstan.”

“What?”

“My squire was in the mews while you were plotting your little scheme.”

“Holy Mother!” Frantically, her mind snatched up the pieces of what was said and where. “’Twas Gertrude’s idea.”

“A welcome one, reportedly.”

“I considered it, but—”

“So you confess.”

“No! Your spy heard but part of the conversation. In the end, I chose you.”

He snorted. “Right. And I sell genuine relics of the saints.”

She glared at him. With quick, deliberate steps, she closed the space between them. “Then I’ll fetch my purse, for I speak the truth.”

“I am no fool.”

No, she thought, but you’re a veritable god of arrogance.

A lord of intimidation, too. Why else would he summon her to the prison tower? With dispatch, her desire to explain the curse, and its implications to their wedding night, died.

For an instant so brief she might’ve imagined it, his expression changed. He looked almost…wounded.

“Does the thought of marrying me so disgust you?” he asked.

His dark, infinite eyes became her world. “Not at all.”

Large, warm hands clasped her upper arms. “Is Wulfstan your lover?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Tyrant.”

His mouth claimed hers. She wrenched her head to the side, tried to break away. His grip tightened. His lips demanded more.

Emma thought fast. She couldn’t match his physical strength. But maybe, if she didn’t resist, didn’t react in any way, he’d release her.

She willed herself to relax. Almost at once, his lips slackened. They became softer, gentler. Intrigued, she relaxed further.

His lips brushed hers and left a tingling warmth in their wake. She liked the sensation, but the longer he fed it, the more she wanted the full pressure of his mouth. A low sound of protest vibrated deep in her throat.

William moaned, and his hot tongue nudged her closed lips. A curious action. Not unpleasant, though, so she opened her mouth. His tongue slipped inside and began a slow, thorough exploration. In response, she flicked her tongue against his.

He groaned. The sound was raw, exciting. His hands burned a path from her arms down to her hips. His tongue darted deeper, faster. Her mouth tingled. Heat tantalized her belly. Never had she felt so alive.

About Flight of the Raven

How eager would the bridegroom be if he knew he could never bed the bride?

Lady Emma of Ravenwood Keep is prepared to give Sir William l’Orage land, wealth, and her hand in marriage. But her virginity? Not unless he loves her. The curse that claimed her mother is clear: unless a Ravenwood heir is conceived in love, the mother will die in childbirth. Emma is determined to dodge the curse. Then William arrives, brandishing raw sensuality which dares her to explore her own.

William the Storm isn’t a man to be gainsaid. He’ll give her protection, loyalty, and as much tenderness as he can muster. But malignant memories quell the mere thought of love. To him, the curse is codswallop. He plans a seduction to breach Emma’s fears and raze her objections. What follows is a test of wills and an affirmation of the power of love.

Buy Links:

Amazon http://buff.ly/2eRAwRW
Barnes and Noble http://buff.ly/2eWWIx3
The Wild Rose Press http://buff.ly/2eRuYXX

Author Bio:

Judith Sterling’s love of history and passion for the paranormal infuse everything she writes. Flight of the Raven and Soul of the Wolf are part of her medieval romance series, The Novels of Ravenwood. The Cauldron Stirred is the first book in her young adult paranormal series, Guardians of Erin. Written under Judith Marshall, her nonfiction books—My Conversations with Angels and Past Lives, Present Stories—have been translated into multiple languages. She has an MA in linguistics and a BA in history, with a minor in British Studies. Born in that sauna called Florida, she craved cooler climes, and once the travel bug bit, she lived in England, Scotland, Sweden, Wisconsin, Virginia, and on the island of Nantucket. She currently lives in Salem, Massachusetts with her husband and their identical twin sons.

Social Media:

Website – https://judithmarshallauthor.com/
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/judithsterlingfiction/
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16291161.Judith_Sterling
Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01MT3KB7L
The Wild Rose Press – https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/2212_judith-sterling

 

Loved and Lost

Fira poured the last of the ale into a goblet held out in front of her, yet her attention remained on the man across the Great Hall who paced in front of the turret stairs. A pinch to her already bruised back side tore a snarl from her lips as she swatted away the outstretched hand of a knight.

“Not tonight, Sir Turquine,” she bellowed, causing the knights at the table to chuckle.

“I told you ’twas a lost cause, brother,” Taegan laughed. “She has her mind set on another this eve!”

“You cannot blame me for trying,” Turquine retorted. “Be a good lass, Fira, and bring us more ale. We have a long night of drinking afore us.”

Grumbling to herself, Fira returned to the kitchen to refill her pitcher. The knights had a mighty thirst this night and she would be lucky if she saw her bed afore the dawn. Her gaze traveled through the doorway and her heart flipped with his nearness. No other man in the hall held her interest, although she had taken several of them to her bed at one time or another. Nay, the only one she cared about was the clan’s piper.

He was a handsome man with his tawny colored hair and bright green eyes. She had thought she had a chance with Garrick of Clan MacLaren. After all… he had never once made any advances towards her, not like the rest of the men she had bedded. Mayhap ’twas why she was attracted to him… he had never been anything but respectful towards her and because of this, he had unknowingly slipped into her heart.  They had been on friendly enough terms for a while now and she had thought she was making progress in possibly wringing a proposal from him, or so she had assumed. Then she arrived at Berwyck and everything had changed.

’Twas as though the other women in the kitchen knew where her thoughts had led as she began overhearing their conversation about her nemesis.

“She be a true lady, that one is. No uppity airs, no demanding ways. She does her deceased brother proud, she does,” boasted one of the serfs.

“Do not forget she is Laird Dristan’s cousin and as such ’twould be wise tae treat her with respect lest ye wish tae feel the heat o’ the Devil’s Dragon’s wrath,” another replied with a shudder.

“Bah!” Fira fumed. Slamming the pitcher down upon the table, she wagged her finger at the women who had no issue gossiping amongst themselves. “She doesna belong here and should go back tae France or wherever Sir Morgan found her.”

“Yer just jealous because ye have lost the favor o’ our handsome piper.”

“I havena lost him,” Fira boasted, “and I can have him in me bed with a crook of me finger, I can.”

“Ye may get him in yer bed, but yer reward will likely be a babe in yer belly and nothing else,” another called out.

“He willna marry ye, ye silly girl.” A chorus of laughter erupted from those near enough to hear the conversation.

“Besides, I have heard Laird Dristan say he will look no lower than a knight fer her husband.”

“Then ’tis settled. Since Garrick holds no title, he is considered beneath her station in life so our laird willna let them marry,” Fira retorted with a smirk.

“Ye think that matters when yer in love? Ye best set yer sights on someone else fer ’tis plain fer all tae see Lady Coira has won Garrick’s heart.”

“Ye know nothing of Garrick’s heart,” Fira yelled.

“Then take a look,” the woman mocked, taking Fira by the arm and pushing her towards the doorway to observe what was taking place inside the hall.

Fira’s heart lurched when she espied the Lady Coria and Sir Morgan descend the stairs and Garrick bowed low afore the lady. Their conversation was brief but ’twas enough to see for herself the man she wanted for her husband had eyes only for another. Even whilst he took his place at the table to break his fast did he continue to stare upon Lady Coira. Only when the lady raised her chalice in a silent salute and Garrick returned the gesture with a smile did Fira finally begin to realize she had lost him.

“Heed my words, Fira, and leave him be. Another has already claimed him,” the woman taunted afore returning to the kitchen.

A sob tore from Fira’s lips. Life was so unfair and more so for someone in her position. She ran from the Great Hall to find her home, not caring if she would be punished come the morn for leaving the hall without finishing her duties for the night.


This original piece is a companion to The Piper’s Lady by Bluestocking Belle Sherry Ewing. The Piper’s Lady is one of eight novella’s within the Belles’ 2017 anthology, Never Too Late.

Never Too Late
A Bluestocking Belles Collection

Release Date November 4, 2017
Special Pre-order price ~ $0.99
25% benefits the Belles’ mutual charity The Malala Fund

Buy Links:

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You can learn more about Sherry on her page here with the Belles or find her on her website here. Sherry loves to interact with her readers so be sure to sign up for her newsletter or join her Facebook Street Team to keep up-to-date.

 

To Love A Knight

Dear Diary:

I have a medieval man in my shower.

Knight

Yes… I just wrote that and no… I’m not drunk, but maybe I should be. How else do I explain the strange trip through Time that took me 800 years into the past and then again to return home to present day San Francisco? I wish I could say I dreamed the whole thing but then I can hear Fletcher humming some medieval melody and the steam from his shower is escaping through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. Just listen to him! That deep baritone voice makes my heart flutter like the wings of a hummingbird in flight.

Fletcher… I swear my face flushes inferno hot each and every time he even glances in my direction. He is the stuff dreams are made of. Really! I’m not over exaggerating or lying just to make this entry interesting. I mean who would make up this stuff? If I were an author, I’d probably have a bestseller on my hands. Now isn’t that thought a hoot?

But I digress from telling you about this incredible man who continues to watch over me. He gave up everything he had just to follow me through Time. This chivalrous knight who gave no thought as to his responsibilities to his family and liege lord. A noble knight who now finds himself out of place and time in a future world that no longer values the very essence of all he held dear in another life. I’m unsure how he’ll ever adjust to modern living, despite the brave face he puts on for my benefit.

I’m in love with him. Even writing those words scares the hell out of me, and I’m terrified of what the implications of those feelings could mean to my heart. I could blink, and he could be gone in a heartbeat if God decides such is our fate. I came back to my own place in time because of the anguish I heard in my mother’s cry that spanned centuries. Would the same happen to Fletcher and those he, too, left in day’s long since past? His father, a younger sister, not to mention those he cared about at Berwyck Castle. It’s a lot to consider and it makes my head hurt with just the thought of losing him now that we’ve found one another.

He left his sword leaning up against the wall near the bathroom door, a twelfth century item appearing totally out of place among the things in this room of modern living. The ruby jewel in the hilt winks at me as though the stone has a secret to tell. My only thought is how Fletcher will react when he sees me in my best negligée that I put on just for him. He’ll think me overly bold, but I never wanted a man more than I do tonight. Now if only I can convince him to share my bed, which will be no small task. He’ll probably tell me we can’t until we’re married. He has much to learn about the twenty-first century!

I’ll write more when I can. I just heard the water go off and I’ve only moments before I’m confronted with the man who makes my heart sing. I can only hope that whatever happens between us, that we won’t lose what we have found with each other. Time brought us together. I’ll be damned if I’ll allow Time to tear us apart.

Jenna


Knight

To Follow My Heart: The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time Novel (Book Three)

Bestselling author, Sherry Ewing, brings you the next installment of her Knights of Berwyck series, To Follow My Heart.

Love is a leap. Sometimes you need to jump…

After a gut wrenching break up with her fiancé, Jenna Sinclair heads to the coast to do a little soul searching. To say everything is subject to change is putting it mildly. Her world is not only turned upside down, but pretty much torn asunder when she is pulled through a time gate on the beach beneath the Cliff House and transported more than eight hundred years into the past.

Fletcher Monroe, captain of the garrison knights at Berwyck Castle, has wasted too much time pining for a woman who will never be his. When he finally decides to move on with his life and focus on his duties, he is suddenly confronted with a woman who magically appears at his feet. This could either be the best thing that has ever happened to him or another cursed event in a string of many. He soon finds he is wildly attracted to her, but she’s scared to death of him ─ not a very encouraging beginning.

From the shores of California to twelfth century England and back again, Jenna and Fletcher must find a way to reconcile their two different worlds before Time forever tears them apart.

Buy Links:

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Amazon AU | Amazon  BR | AmazonCA Amazon DE | AmazonFRAmazon UK

You can learn more about Bluestocking Belle Sherry Ewing on her page on the tab above with the Belles or on her website here.

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