Greetings, gods and goddesses. At last spring is here. My guest today is the sensational Ashley York. Ashley writes historical romance full of passion and intrigue set in 11th and 12th century Ireland, Scotland, and England where life was wild and survival was never guaranteed. Whether it’s in the mysterious ring forts of Ireland, the Scottish Highlands, or the battle fields of Hastings, her characters fight hard and play hard. Good or evil, primary or secondary, they’ll yank at your emotions and make it hard to put her books down. Today she shares with us an excerpt from her Medieval Romance, Eyes of the Seer.
It was usually Joan who saw to such things for Marcán. He was shown this deference as a sign of his value to the clan. An unmarried warrior was usually seen to by the king’s wife, but until now Diarmuid had had no wife, and the late king’s wife, Beibhinn, chose to ignore him.
The thought of Astrid helping him in his bath stiffened his prick in an instant. Followed by the realization that it would not be a good idea to allow her to touch him. The simple act of assisting in his bath could be his undoing; he wanted her that much.
The mere thought of the scent of her hair, the feel of her hands, her bosom innocently pressing against him was enough to banish his exhaustion. He was painfully hard with need for her. Standing, he turned away from the opening door. He needed to get out of this, or she would finally learn just how besotted he was with her. And she would not be happy.
BLURB: In ancient Ireland, men and women take to the legends for answers. Different-colored eyes are the mark of a Seer, it is said, and those who can see the future are in league with the devil. They cannot be suffered to live.
He wishes to prove himself…
Marcán of Clonascara bears the bloodline of Brian Boru, the legendary high king, and his prowess as a warrior has earned him great respect. But he was born with different-colored eyes, and there are some who would have him suffer a Seer’s fate. His fiercest adversary is Beibhinn, mother to Diarmuid, his close friend and king, and Astrid, the woman who holds his heart. If Astrid ever showed him any interest, he would fight Beibhinn and any army to wed her.
She is desperate to escape…
Astrid is sick of her mother’s belittling, but her brother is in no hurry to see her married, so she decides to see to her own match-making. The man she approaches quickly reveals his lack of honor, but her overbearing mother pushes her to wed him anyway. When Astrid discovers Marcán’s love for her, she realizes that what she wants has been in front of her all along. True happiness awaits them, but only if they can put a stop to her mother’s plans.