Huzzah, Medieval Romance Lovers! Our Medieval Monday hop has come to a close, for now. But never fear! There is plenty more romance going on in our favorite time period. If you were sufficiently teased by my snippets, I will put a few more out here over the next few weeks. But wait. There’s more. This book has a sequel, but we’ll get to that in a few weeks. In the meantime, enjoy this sample from my #MedievalRomance, A Knight in Rusted Armor.
BLURB: Allys Stone would risk repute as a ruined woman to gain control of her life. Thorin Svenson would battle the most skilled knights in the realm to win her. Theirs is a love story of fairy tales and wild passion, a battle of wills as well as brawn.
Allys wants to choose her own husband, one who loves life and laughter as much as she does. One who considers her a partner instead of a possession. She has never had any choice but to live by her father’s decisions, and now he’s offering her as grand prize in a tournament.
Thorin must win the hand of a nobleman’s daughter to regain the wealth and position of his family. Consumed by guilt, he will risk his very life to win. Not even her attempts to sabotage his victory will get in his way.
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The girl forced herself to obey, silently drawing in a deep breath and letting it out in a measured stream. That did little to slow the pounding of her heart. She pressed her back against the side of the timber building. The floor above her hung out over the muddy street, providing a shadow to conceal her presence.
It seemed she had been hiding for hours, waiting for just the right man. She had waited until all the competitors were registered for the tournament and ensconced within the castle walls before donning her disguise and sneaking into the nearest village. The sun had dipped behind the tree line of the forest, casting shadows on the road and making her mission even more dangerous.
Confident that any traveler stopping at the inn now would be merely passing through. Or at the very least, nothing more than a spectator.
She had been waiting for a man, a particular man. She was not yet sure what those particulars were, but she hoped it would come to her when she saw him. Regardless, he must not see her. If he did, she would lose her advantage.
She stopped breathing again when she detected the sound of hoof beats over the raucous laughter behind her. It came from the tavern on the ground floor. She leaned forward enough to see two men riding down the street toward her. She ducked back into the shadow.
He must not see me.
Her labored breathing came in great gasps now. She covered her mouth with both hands as the two men rode past her and stopped before The Lazy Dog. The big one stared up at the sign over the door long enough for her to admire him.
A leather thong held the thick length of his hair at the base of his neck. She could not discern the color in the fading light, but she was glad it did not hide his features. Full lips. A sharp jaw. She followed the line down his neck, corded with his head tilted up, to his broad shoulders and arms and thick with muscles.
She noticed the fine quality of his cotton twill surcote, even though a thick layer of dust covered it. The full moon had risen enough now that she could make out the green and white arms sewn to the breast. She detected a splash of red. Towers maybe? And some kind of large cat rearing out of the top.
This man was no pauper, not that it mattered.
He was the one.
Come back next week for another sample from my Medieval Romance, A Knight in Rusted Armor.
Want more? Check out my web site: www.bambilynn.net