Wednesday, April 8, 2015

The Conquest Continues - The Gentle Knight


I'm happy to be here to share my new release, The Gentle Knight. The year is 1075. The place, Drogheda, Ireland.

A Norman soldier returns home after battle to find his lover has died in childbirth just as his mother had. Overwhelmed by guilt, he decides on a solitary life until he meets an Irish princess whose innocence demands his protection at the cost of his heart. 



This is book two in the Norman Conquest Series. Book one is The Saxon Bride that tells the story of Rowena Godwinson and John of Normandy. John's close friend is Peter. This is Peter's story.

A medieval soldier returns home to find his lover died in childbirth just as his own mother had. Believing he is cursed, Peter of Normandy turns from love. When he must give escort to an Irish princess more noble than many knights, he struggles with his decision to live a solitary life. Can he take the chance that his love won't be a death sentence and possibly make them stronger?

Padraig MacNaughton's death bed decree rips his only daugher, Brighit, from the shelter of her protective clan in Ireland. Forced to take vows at a Priory in England, she finds herself in the hands of lecherous mercenaries with their own agendas. Dare she trust the Norman knight to see her safely to her new life as a nun? Even when she finds in him the fulfillment of all she's ever wanted? Or will honor and duty eclipse their one chance for happiness?

EXCERPT:
The barrenness of the countryside would take Brighit some time to get used to. Perhaps it was only this area, but it seemed nothing like her home which was so lush and green. She missed her family. A tightness began to build in her throat but Brighit refused to acknowledge it. A splashing sound came to her from just beyond the tree stand.
She glanced back the way she'd come. The need to return immediately or confront Ivan's wrath had her clenching her teeth. That splash sounded very much like the lake Lachlann had mentioned. A chance to clean her face and hands in a refreshing body of water rather than with a soaked cloth? The heat in that confined carriage was making her wilt. She sniffed and confirmed her stench was overwhelming. Before even thinking it through, she headed in the direction of the sound.
Brighit paused on the barely discernible path. Sure she heard rustling, she glanced behind at the open field she'd come from. It was empty. Nothing behind her that could make such a sound. Was it a deer perhaps? Taking a few steps farther, the small rise gave way to the breathtaking sight of a small lake. The top glistened like glass without a ripple to disturb its surface.
The slight breeze carried the pungent aroma of honeysuckle and lavender. The plants would be a wonderful thing to find and put in with her few belongings. Each night she would be surrounded by the smell of flowers. Without another thought she headed through the bushes to her right, careful to not make a sound in case the deer were still nearby. Movement along the banks drew her attention and she froze.
A man stood there dripping wet and naked. He pushed his hair away from his face. A handsome face with a strong jaw and a thick brow. She followed the movement of his hands, sloshing the water off his chiseled body. Blond hair spanned his broad chest and across his rippled torso, leading down his muscular legs, glistening in the fading light. His tarse was visible even from this distance. She looked long and hard. Her breathing became labored. Magnificent.
He turned in her direction. She ducked. She held her breath and shivered in the bush, willing her heart to stop pounding so loudly. When she ventured another peek, he was gone. Disappointment welled up inside her gut. She'd wanted nothing more than to sit and watch him, imagine how it would feel to run her hands down his expansive chest and firm body as he had done, to appreciate the rippled strength there. She blew out the breath she'd been holding and licked her dry lips. That certainly wasn't going to happen, not in this lifetime—as a nun. A small bush of purple flowers brushed her hand and she snatched it. Lavender. The sun was dropping below the hills in the west and she needed to get back. Enough of these wasted desires.
Desire made things happen. It was her grandfather's favorite saying. As the seventh son, he had been a man of some notoriety among Irish nobility. He was given the Celtic Princess, Faighrah, to wed. When he sired his own seventh son, the other leaders turned to him for guidance, for wisdom, in return for unfailing loyalty. The belief always that the seventh son of the seventh son of the seventh son had a special anointing from God. No evil could befall him.
Brighit was no son and evil seemed a little too close. Ivan had told her he would not hesitate to make up a lie about who she was. Even saying she was his wife. Others would believe him because he was a man. Perhaps a little more protection from the same God who made her a female was not asking too much.

Available at: Apple    Kobo    Amazon    Barnes and Noble

       Website: www.ashleyyorkauthor.com
       email: ashleyyorkauthor@gmail.com

Thursday, March 19, 2015

BUNDLED BOOK: CONFESSIONS OF THE CLEANING LADY AND STUPID CUPID


Confessions of the Cleaning Lady:  A band of feisty Irish faeries who stow away in the trunk of a pharmaceutical representative from Killarney are inadvertently released in the Pennsylvania countryside where Mal McCurdy sets up bachelor housekeeping. In need of a cleaning lady, he is introduced to Shawna Egan, unaware that his faeries have taken up residence in her oak tree. Shawna, who was raised with tales of the Fair Folk but never realized she can see them, learns it the hard way when she cuts down their home. She gives them another…and faeries always repay their debts.

Stupid Cupid:  When the son of Zeus and Aphrodite bumbles into a meadow south of Killarney, he is met by a band of indignant faeries outraged by his target practice. Soon, however, all the supernatural creatures are overshadowed by an estranged couple intent on fisticuffs! Can Cupid effect a reconciliation between the humans? Or is just a wee bit of intervention by the Fae in order?





New Release by Cathy MacRae, The Highlander's Outlaw Bride


The Highlander’s Outlaw Bride
by Cathy MacRae
 

Blurb:

Thrust into the role of laird upon his father's unexpected death, Connor MacLaurey returns home to find his cousin has usurped his lands and title. Furthermore, his betrothed--a lass he barely knows and certainly did not agree to marry--is hunted by the sheriff, accused of stealing cattle. His plan is to petition the king for clemency for the foolish chit, break the betrothal, and take his castle back from his treacherous cousin. Marriage is not in his plans.

Brianna Douglas has no use for men. Widowed young, berated daily for failing to give her husband a child, and sent home in subsequent disgrace, she devotes her life to holding her family's land for her young brother as their sotted father drowns his sorrow in whisky over her mother's death. Raiders have hit her clan hard, and to save them, she finds herself betrothed to Laird MacLaurey's absent son to seal a pact of protection with the MacLaurey clan.

Forced into a marriage neither wants, it will take a king's edict and sacrifice from both to discover what love means. But can they accept their losses and learn from their mistakes before Brianna marries another?
                                                                       * * *
Excerpt:

“Explain why ye hate me so.” Conn’s voice sounded soft and low, both gentling and demanding at the same time.

Briannaglanced past him, her gaze darting from side to side, judging the possibility of escape. There was none, and after a moment she lifted her chin a notch, refusing to answer him. He hid a grin at her courage and pride. And stubbornness.

“Have ye always disliked the idea of marriage, then?”

A disdainful breath escaped her. “I have been married once before. It dinnae interest me much then, either.”
“Yer previous husband was only a lad. Heir to a sizeable bit of land, but still just a lad.”
“And ye can do better,” she tossed at him, repeating his earlier boast to the king.
“Ye know I can.” He touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek and she gasped, her skin darkening beneath his touch. “I cannae get our love-making out of my mind.”
Brianna shrugged. “Och, there was nothing to recommend it to me. I have already put it from my mind.”
“I apologize for that, dearling. Ye willnae feel so bereft the next time, I promise ye.”
“Dinnae bother. All I want from ye is Morven’s protection for Wyndham.”
He met her steely stare. “Ye dinnae want me?”
“Nae,” she ground between clenched teeth, her nostrils flaring.
“Ye werenae married long enough to appreciate a man in yer bed. I bet ye still have yer dowry chest.” He teased her lightly, wanting to see a smile on her lips.
“I burned the wood to warm my cold bedroom,” she snarled in reply.
“Yer wedding dress?”
“Rags for the stable!”
He leaned closer, his voice a raw whisper in her ear. “I would settle for marrying ye the way I found ye.” Brianna eyed him in puzzlement, and he knew the instant she remembered he had pulled her from the burn as naked as the day she was born.
With a snarl of either rage or despair, she flung herself away from the wall. Before he could stop her, she darted beneath his arm and fled down the darkened hallway, her billowing silver hair the last thing to fade into the darkness.
Shite! Does the lass have no sense at all? He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wincing as he encountered the tender stripe she’d laid down the side of his face. Why do I pursue her? She openly hates me and has scorned me before the king and his court. He shrugged, remembering how they’d come together when neither knew the other’s name. I could do a lot worse. His rueful smile creased the welt and he scowled at the sting.
                                                                     * * *
Author Bio:
Cathy enjoys weaving tales of romance in the Highland mists. Her stories feature strong heroes and feisty heroines in pursuit of their happy-ever-afters in medieval Scotland.
When not writing, Cathy can be found curled up in a chair with a book or enjoying the outdoors with her corgis and newest member of the family, Freki. A member of RWA and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, she is currently working on another Highland romance novel and planning her next trip to Scotland.
Check out her website at www.cathymacraeauthor.com for book updates, writing and author posts, as well as her thoughts on gardening and dogs. She would love to hear from you!
facebook, Twitter @CMacRaeAuthor
 
 
 

 

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

A SAINT PATRICK'S DAY THANKS!

A very heartfelt thanks to all the wonderful authors posting their works here in celebration of St. Patrick's Day.  You have made it the best holiday EVER on The Celtic Rose Blog and we have all enjoyed your posts.  

We couldn't have done it without you!

Clan Ross Series by Kristi Ahlers

HIS HEART'S DESIRE
The Clan Ross Series, book 1
Kristi Ahlers
ISBN: 9781301543809
ASIN: B00AERVDDW
Length: Novel
Genre: Time Travel Romance
Price: $3.99

Buy here - Tirgearr Publishing

What’s a woman to do when faced with the man of her dreams—literally?

Catrìona MacDougall has dreamed of an ancient highland warrior for years and over the course of her life she’s fallen irretrievably in love with a man she can’t have. This won’t do and she vows it’s time to put the dream man on the shelf and find a real man who can make her melt. What should seem like a very uncomplicated plan soon proves to be anything but. Catrìona is about to get way more than she ever bargained on. Maybe dreams really can become reality.

Laird Braden Ross, once a brave warrior for his clan, was to marry Catrìona MacDougall, and what started as a marriage to solidify clan relations turns into a love match. But, when Braden leaves MacDougall land with his bride to be, they are ambushed by banished members of the Comyn clan under the direction of Morgana, a druid priestess, who has long held deep feelings for Braden. When those feelings aren’t returned, she vowed to make him pay. She attacks Catrìona and leaves her to die in Braden’s arms after cursing him into a loveless existence until his soulmate releases him.

Braden is trying to reach out to Catrìona but she's convinced he’s nothing but a dream. He needs to prove to her they are meant to be, before she banishes him to the afterlife.

HER HIGHLAND ROGUE
The Clan Ross Series, #2
Kristi Ahlers
ISBN: 9781311795366
ASIN: B00GHUDHZ2
Length: Novel
Genre: Time Travel Romance
Price: $3.99

Buy here - Tirgearr Publishing

Kady, Muse Extraordinaire, has ticked off Cupid, and in order to get back into the good graces of her friend and the rest of the Gods, she has to do the seemingly impossible. She has to match her favorite lady human, Meagan Wentworth, with her one true love.

Kady thinks she’s struck the mother lode of luck when Meagan falls for Alec Ross but there is just one tiny little problem with the hearts and flower ending she envisions. Alec is from the past--Scotland, in the year 1295 to be exact, and his little sojourn in the future is about to come to an end, thanks to the selfish and evil priestess, Morgana. But everything goes wrong when Alec and Meagan get caught up in the a spell Morgana has cast and sends them back in time. Kady doesn’t have enough power to send them back to the twenty-first century so she hopes they can make things work until she can figure a way to get Meagan home where she belongs.

Meagan can’t believe she’s back in time, with no plumbing, no electricity and the hottie she’d been falling for, doesn’t remember her. Meagan is going to do what she can to get back to her time period, she doesn’t need this…and yet, she has never backed down from a challenge. She’s going to remind Alec who she is and what they had together in the future. Hopefully, she’ll be able to survive the late 1200’s and not be accused of witchcraft or die. And of course get the guy and write there happy ending.

• • •

Kristi Ahlers is a California girl! She grew up in Northern California in a small city called Yuba City. Since then she's lived in Brussels, Belgium, and England along with a myriad of other locations. A former flight attendant, she was able to continue to feed her love of travel. This has greatly influenced her writing, allowing her to pen stories about places she's managed to visit and things she's experienced.

Find Kristi Online

Website - http://www.kristiahlers.com
Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/kristi.ahlers1
Blog - http://kristiahlers.blogspot.com
Tirgearr Publishing - http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Ahlers_Kristi



Looking for Charlotte by Jennifer Young

LOOKING FOR CHARLOTTE
Jennifer Young
ISBN:
ASIN:
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Price: $4.99

Pre-order here - Tirgearr Publishing

Divorced and lonely, Flora Wilson is distraught when she hears news of the death of little Charlotte Anderson. Charlotte’s father killed her and then himself, and although he left a letter with clues to the whereabouts of her grave, his two-year-old daughter still hasn’t been found.

Flora embarks on a quest to find Charlotte’s body to give the child’s mother closure, believing that by doing so she can somehow atone for her own failings as a mother. As she hunts in winter through the remote moors of the Scottish Highlands, her obsession comes to threaten everything that’s important to her — her job, her friendship with her colleague Philip Metcalfe and her relationships with her three grown up children.

• • •

Flora hadn’t thought. If she didn’t come up with something she’d have to go shopping and pass judgement on Grace in a series of beige and mustard-coloured suits. She grabbed inspiration from the headline in The Scotsman. ‘I thought I’d pop into the library.’

‘I’ll chum you.’

They parted just beyond the bridge across the Ness, Grace heading up the pedestrian streets and Flora cutting across to the library, fronted by the long line of cars full of Saturday shoppers manoeuvering towards the car parks. She wasn’t a regular library user, but once the idea had taken her she remembered that there was something she wanted to check.

In the reference section, she stood for a moment before selecting the Ordnance Survey map that covered the area south of Ullapool. She knew it quite well. When the children were young they’d gone walking there regularly, able to reach the open spaces without pushing the slowest (usually Amelia, though Beth was the youngest) too hard. They’d graduated to more difficult walks, then stopped walking altogether. Eventually she had developed a fondness for the slightly less bleak terrain to the south of Inverness, where she went occasionally with Philip and his brother, or with a colleague from work. She hadn’t been out all year, not since before Christmas, in fact, and even then they’d been rained off not very far in and driven back to the comfort of a tea shop in Grantown-on-Spey.

A nostalgic yearning for a good long walk swept over her as she unfolded the map and smoothed it out across one of the desks. She and Danny used to look at maps together plotting their routes. His stubby forefinger, with its bitten nails, had traced the most challenging route to start, sliding along the steep and craggy ridges until he remembered the children and reluctantly redrew, shorter, safer.

She thought she knew the place where Alastair Anderson had left his car, and found it easily enough. Under her fingers the map was a flat web of never-parallel lines, of ugly pock-marking that told of steep, loose rocks and inhospitable terrain, just the type of place they used to walk. Somewhere up here, Charlotte Anderson was buried. Carried there, already dead? Or walked there and then killed? Surely neither was realistic; surely they would have found her, with their dogs and their mountain rescue helicopters scouring the ground for new scars, and all the rest of the equipment they had at their disposal.

Looking at the map had been a mistake. It was obvious now. Besides, she couldn’t see it any more; all she could see was the image of Suzanne Beauchamp, that beautiful face with the cold façade, like a wax death mask from Madame Tussauds. More poignant, of course, since it must hide a struggle, a struggle to conceal or to suppress a deadly mixture of grief and guilt.

‘Go away!’ she said softly to this mirage of a grieving woman, a little afraid of its power. ‘Go away!’ And then, in the only defence left to her, she began to fold the map away.

• • •

Jennifer Young is an Edinburgh-based writer, editor and copywriter. She is interested in a wide range of subjects and writing media, perhaps reflecting the fact that she has both arts and science degrees. Jennifer has been writing fiction, including romantic fiction, for a number of years with several short stories already published. Thanks You For The Music, which is set on the Balearic island of Majorca, is her first published novel.

Find Jennifer Online

Website - http://http//www.jenniferyoungauthor.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.young.771282
Twitter - https://twitter.com/JYnovelist
Twitter - https://twitter.com/JYoungWriter
Blog - http://jenniferyoungauthor.blogspot.co.uk
Blog - http://novelpointsofview.blogspot.co.uk
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Young_Jennifer


Dark September by Brendan Gerad O'Brien

DARK SEPTEMBER
Brendan Gerad O'Brien
ISBN: 9781311269966
ASIN: B00OBJIZ6C
Length: Novel
Genre: Alternative Historical Fiction
Price: $4.99

Buy here - Tirgearr Publishing

Germany invades mainland Britain. Irishman Danny O’Shea’s house is bombed and his wife killed. His young son Adam has learning difficulties. Terrified of what the Nazis will do to him, O’Shea decides to take him to neutral Ireland.

Penniless and desperate, they head for Fishguard. But on an isolated Welsh road they witness an attack on a German convoy carrying the blueprints for an awesome new weapon that was discovered in a secret laboratory near Brecon.

German Captain Eric Weiss, responsible for the blueprint’s safe transfer to Berlin, knows his job, even his life, depends on getting it back.

But, following a major disagreement amongst the insurgents, the blueprint disappears. Then O’Shea goes to the aid of a dying woman - and both the Germans and the insurgents believe she’s told him where the blueprints are.

Suddenly O’Shea is separated from his son and catapulted into a world of betrayal and brutal double-cross. Pursued by both the Germans and the insurgents, his only concern is to find Adam and get him to safety.

• • •

‘Did you hear the latest rumour, Danny?’ he asked. His eyes were disturbed, wide and anxious, as they darted from O’Shea to the newspaper and back to O’Shea again.

‘Do you mean about …’ O’Shea felt his throat tighten as he struggled to find the words. He really didn’t want to think about it, but at the same time he desperately wanted to know what was really going on. Leaning over, he rubbed a hole in the condensation on the steamed up window. Outside, the lights from the tram flickered on the curtain of rain that came in waves along the pavement. ‘I heard something on the wireless before I came out about him being …you know?’ he eventually managed to say. ‘But I’m not sure what I believe on the radio anymore.’

‘Well, there’s nothing in the paper about it.’ Elwyn rattled the wet pages as he tried to separate them but they only stuck together more and started to tear. ‘They’d have to put in the papers, wouldn’t they? What d’you think, Danny? Wouldn’t they have to put it in the papers if there was any truth in it? Or do you think it’s just another pack of lies from that lunatic Lord what’s-his-name? D’you think it’s just another one of his tricks to upset us, like? Make us panic?’

O’Shea gave a furtive look around at the other passengers. The tram was full as usual and the steam from their wet clothes misted up the windows.

He recognised most of the men. Practically all of them worked down in the dockyards. The few women on board were heading for the nice warm tax office. It was obvious from the way they held their hands tightly across their bodies that they’d heard the rumour too. So they’d be only too aware of the dreadful consequences if it turned out to be true. But nobody spoke. Today there was no idle chatter, no swapping gossip behind gloved hands. Everyone felt the tension that hung like a fine mist in the air, so they just sat there in silence and looked out of the windows, their faces blank and their mouths drawn into thin, anxious lines.

A deep, desperate sigh rippled up from O’Shea’s chest and he couldn’t swallow it in time so he tried to block it with his hand. What in God’s name was he doing, going to work at a time like this? If the omens were so obviously terrifying, why wasn’t he at home with his wife and child? They’d still be lying in bed, sound asleep and unaware of the drama unfolding around them.

• • •

Brendan Gerad O’Brien was born in Tralee, on the west coast of Ireland and now lives in Wales with his wife Jennifer and daughters Shelly and Sarah.

As a child he spent his summer holidays in Listowel, Co Kerry, where his uncle Moss Scanlon had a harness maker’s shop, which, sadly, is long gone now. The shop was a magnet for all sorts of colourful characters. It was there that Brendan’s love of words was kindled by the stories of John B. Keane and Bryan MacMahon, who often wandered in for a chat and bit of jovial banter. Most of the ideas for the stories in the collection Dreamin’ Dreams originated there, and some are based on actual real character - though Brendan would never admit it, simply because he couldn’t afford the ensuing litigation.

Find Brendand Online

Website - http://www.bgobrien.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/brendangerad.obrien
Twitter - http://www.twitter.com/obgowan
LinkedIn - https://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=62841458
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/OBrien_BrendanG