Historical Fiction – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Historical Fiction – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sat, 05 Oct 2024 02:31:04 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Historical Fiction – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Cherished by A Highlander (Highland Revenge Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher http://www.ilovenovels.com/cherished-read-online-a-highlander-highland-revenge-trilogy-1-read-online-donna-fletcher Sat, 05 Oct 2024 02:31:04 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/cherished-read-online-a-highlander-highland-revenge-trilogy-1-read-online-donna-fletcher Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Suspense Authors: Donna Fletcher Series: Highland Revenge Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)

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Revenge consumes the Highlander’s thoughts… until he meets the healer.

Shade is a dedicated healer focused solely on gaining as much knowledge as possible to help those suffering and in need. Living in the heart of the woods, people come from all around to seek her help. Consumed with her work, she has had no time to find a husband and at twenty and six years most believe she is past her prime. She tells herself to pay no heed to gossiping tongues but when she is alone at night she wonders if solitude will continue to be her only companion.

Quint arrives at her cottage one day with a wound that needs her skills. It is obvious that he is a seasoned warrior, various healed scars on his body attesting to it. His injury requires him to remain at her cottage for at least a few days and she finds she quite enjoys having him there. It does not take long for her to find what she never thought she would or for Quint to rediscover what he lost… love.

But Quint is harboring a secret, one that could possibly destroy the happiness both have finally found. When Shade receives a desperate message from her best friend at Clan MacLeish for help, she has no choice but to go. Quint refuses to let her make the journey alone and unprotected, and he refuses to lose her. So, they wed.

Surprise and shock fill Shade’s wedding day when she discovers Quint’s true identity. He is the ruthless warrior known as The Monk and he is on a mission of revenge. He will not rest until he slaughters everyone responsible, whoever they may be.

What Quint does not know is that Shade is one of those people.

Will revenge or love triumph in this battle?

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CHAPTER 1

Shade approached the slight rise wishing she had taken a different path home, but with the gray skies promising rain, she wanted to get home as quickly as possible. And this was the fastest way. It wasn’t that she feared taking this path. It was that it broke her heart every time she came this way and was reminded of the tragedy.

A slow gait would not help. It was better to hasten her pace and be done with it. Walk right past it, but as usual she couldn’t. As soon as the abbey came into view, she knew she could not avoid it, go past it as if it didn’t exist, or ignore the memories that rushed at her.

It was a small abbey and it had been shuttered for several years until about two years ago, when eight monks arrived and took residence. They had kept their distance from her, claiming she was no healer and suggesting she was possibly a witch because her healing skills came from the old ways of the Highlands. But one monk thought differently, Brother Emmett. He had come to her cottage and requested her help in identifying Highland plants and learning their properties. She was surprised and a bit skeptical, but she obliged him. Over time, they became friends and would meet in the woods, where she would teach him about the plants.

Shade stopped in front of the abbey, something she would not have considered doing if the monks were there. But no monks were in residence and the abbey was once again shuttered. The area folk wondered if any monks would ever occupy the abbey again after the tragedy that took place there. A tragedy that began with the arrival of a new monk.

Brother Emmett had confided in her about the man, not truly a monk, but more a man in need of help. She recalled him telling her that he was a troubled soul with much anger raging in him. He had been a fierce warrior whose wife had been murdered by renegades while he was away, called to battle. He hunted the men down and made them pay for what they had done to her. Unfortunately, his revenge brought him no peace and he joined the monks hoping to find it.

Regrettably, he only found more rage.

Shade walked over to the spot that marked the graves with wood crosses, eight in all.

It was said that one day the warrior monk returned from hunting to find every one of the monks slaughtered. However, most believe that the warrior monk suffered a fit of rage and killed every one of them. He buried the monks along with the help of some of the farmers in the area, never speaking a word as he did. He left after that with some saying he swore revenge against those who took the monks’ lives. While others said the fierce warrior in him emerged and his thirst for blood was too great to ignore and he returned to his old life. Whatever had happened, he now killed for coins, and you better have plenty of them if you wanted to hire The Monk.

Shade believed the tale had grown from its first telling and that the truth lay somewhere within it. Either way, she missed her friend Brother Emmett. He was a kind soul, and he honestly believed that there was a goodness to the man now known as The Monk. She liked to believe he was right.

Shade continued walking, recalling with fondness the times she had spent with Brother Emmett. He had been a man of at least thirty-odd years, shorter than her by a head and with one shoulder lower than the other due to an accident when he was young. He had told her that was why he was so interested in healing. He hoped to discover ways to heal such injuries and save others from endless suffering.

She had suggested that a broken bone that wasn’t set correctly was probably the reason for his shoulder not allowing the bone to heal properly, causing the droop to his shoulder. Brother Emmett was curious about her suggestion, and they often discussed broken bones and how they should be tended to. She missed her conversations with him and the times they spent together had provided something she lacked in her life, a bond of friendship. Her heart had ached when she heard of his death. He would have made an excellent healer, and she continued to miss him as she missed her best friend, Ula.

They had been friends since they were young. Ula had met and fallen in love with a fine man from Clan MacLeish and wed him. While she was happy for her friend, her heart had ached the day she had left to go begin her married life with her husband Caleb at Clan MacLeish. It was a full day’s ride there, which meant they would see little of each other. Though Shade had given her word that she would be there for Ula when she delivered her first bairn. That had been at least six moon cycles ago and she had yet to hear from her. And with tongues wagging about an imminent battle between Clan MacLeish and Clan Glencairn, she was worried about her friend.

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Highlander The Conqueror (Blood & Honor Trilogy #3) Read Online Donna Fletcher http://www.ilovenovels.com/highlander-the-conqueror-blood-honor-trilogy-3-read-online-donna-fletcher Mon, 27 May 2024 20:58:30 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/highlander-the-conqueror-blood-honor-trilogy-3-read-online-donna-fletcher Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Authors: Donna Fletcher Series: Blood & Honor Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 101336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)

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Born into a life of conflict, Slayer emerges as a formidable warrior destined for leadership within Clan Ravinsher. Leading the Gallowglass, an elite group of mercenaries, he is a born protector, sworn to safeguard his older brother, the rightful heir to the clan. However, fate alters his course when his father and brother are murdered. The responsibility of leading the clan and seeking vengeance now rests squarely on Slayer's shoulders.

Amid this turmoil, Slayer discovers that his brother's widow, Sky, an innocent soul unaware that her father arranged a marriage for her, is in grave danger. Duty bound to ensure her safety, Slayer rescues her from what was intended to be a sanctuary at Dundren Abbey.

Sky’s two sisters shielded her from a world that misunderstood her due to an affliction she had since birth. With her sisters no longer there to shield her, she seeks companionship from the animals who are drawn to her innate kindness, as she begins to discover the impending dangers that await her.

As Slayer strives to protect Sky from unseen threats, he guards a secret that could alter the course of their intertwined destinies. The journey to avenge his family's murders becomes a treacherous path, filled with twists and turns. Sky, thrust into a marriage she never knew existed and now under the watchful eye of a mighty Gallowglass warrior, grapples with her own uncertainties. The realization that someone seeks her demise forces her to remain under Slayer's protection, even as she yearns to return to the familiarity of her home.

Yet, beneath the surface of their intertwined fates, lies a revelation that could shatter their worlds. Slayer's unspoken truth holds the key to understanding their connection, and as the plot thickens, so does the bond between them. When Sky is unexpectedly abducted, Slayer embarks on a relentless pursuit to retrieve her, confronting adversaries and challenges that push his warrior skills to the limit.

Sky, oblivious to her own hidden truths, finds herself at a crossroads when long-buried secrets surface. The choices she makes will shape her destiny, and as the threads of fate weave their intricate pattern, both Slayer and Sky must confront serious decisions. In a world where loyalties are tested, alliances are forged, and the truth has the power to transform lives, Slayer and Sky must face challenges that will ultimately define who they are and what they are willing to sacrifice for love and honor.

Author

There is a story arc that runs through the three books and though each individual love story finishes in each book, the trilogy is best read in order.

The Scarred Highlander, The Fierce Highlander & Highlander the Conqueror.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

A familiar noise roused Sky from her light slumber. As she slowly emerged from a fitful sleep, a sense of puzzlement enveloped her. Had she truly heard something, or had she imagined it? Or had it been nothing more than a remnant of a dream she failed to recall? The cloth hood secured over her head, so it could not be removed, coupled with the oppressive darkness of the cell, prevented her from discerning whether it was day or night. She had lost all grasp of time, uncertain of how many days had elapsed since her arrival or the duration since her sisters, Leora and Elsie, had managed to escape.

Struggling against the heaviness of her limbs, Sky attempted to stand. The shackles on her wrists and the chains connecting them to a cold, unyielding metal ring embedded in the stone wall seemed to gain weight with each passing day. The memories of her sister Leora’s warning echoed in her mind. Pace often so that your legs are fit enough to run out of here when either I or Elsie return to rescue you.

She had lost hope without her sisters there to encourage her and had not continued to do as Leora advised so she could keep her legs strong. She attempted to stand but her feet protested, tingling from numbness. She had sat too long. She moved her feet back and forth to force feeling back into them. Then she braced her hand against the stone wall and struggled to get to her feet, but her legs would have none of it. She collapsed back on the floor with each try. How long had it been since she had initiated a deliberate pace within the cramped confines of her cell? Each intentional step she had taken had become a small act of rebellion, a defiance against the physical and mental constraints imposed upon her. The cell’s size had been a mystery, revealed to her only by the exploratory reach of her hands, as the hood had been thrust over her head upon her arrival at Dundren Abbey. She discovered that, even in her shackled state, a stretch of her hand could graze the four enclosing walls.

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Hathor and the Prince (The Dubells #3) Read Online J.J. McAvoy http://www.ilovenovels.com/hathor-and-the-prince-the-dubells-3-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Mon, 25 Mar 2024 04:50:51 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hathor-and-the-prince-the-dubells-3-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Authors: J.J. McAvoy Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)

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Hathor Du Bell is on her own path to find love in the third installment of J. J. McAvoy's Regency romance series, following Aphrodite and the Duke and Verity and the Forbidden Suitor.

Hathor Du Bell has always fought to break free from the shadow left by her revered older sister, Aphrodite. It has been two years since Hathor’s debut, and while Aphrodite is a duchess, Hathor has been left with the most boring, incomparable suitors of the ton. With the London season coming to a close, Hathor’s anxieties reach a peak. Will she be the only Du Bell unable to find her perfect match?

Then Hathor’s wildest dream comes true when the Queen announces she’ll be presenting Prince Wilhelm Augustus Karl Von Edward of Malrovia during the week-long society event at the Du Bells’ Belclere Castle. But the dream quickly crumbles when Hathor is face to face with the prince, and he is nothing like she imagined.

A flirtatious rivalry sparks a genuine romance, meanwhile Hathor fights to make a name of her own, despite society’s expectations of her. Amidst the grand balls and growing feelings, the final events of the season promise to be the most romantic and shocking of them all.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Hathor

My name is Hathor Du Bell.

Not Heather, but Ha-ther. However, not a soul exists outside of my family and our servants who pronounces my name properly, so my papa instructed that I correct people each and every time, for he was quite proud of my name—Hathor, the Egyptian goddess of the sky, women, and love. As a child, I treasured nothing more than to listen to his tales of my ancient namesake. As an adult—well, as much of an adult as I was permitted to be—I felt quite goaded by the name, for my dear papa had left out one critical fact, which I realized on my own. The goddess Hathor was, and forever will be, in the shadow of the goddess Isis, and the Greek counterpart for Isis is Aphrodite—the name my papa bestowed upon my elder sister. Thus, I always found myself overflowing with a childish desire to outshine her.

It was a war I declared of my own volition.

A war my sister did not even acknowledge, yet she defeated me in every battle. My sister was supremely victorious whether it was in music, dancing, reading, languages…beauty. Just like her ancient namesake, Aphrodite, was the ideal, the very measure of accomplishment. It had been two years, one month, two weeks, one day, and five hours since she had become known as Her Grace, the Duchess of Everely. Her greatest triumph. And though I was truly happy for her, there existed in me a deep hurt, an unattended wound somewhere within that left me in anguish. I knew not where this wound was, but I was sure of my attacker.

It was Aphrodite.

Even now, despite the distance between us, I felt her sword striking once more.

“Pregnant!” my mama, Lady Deanna Du Bell, the Marchioness of Monthermer, all but proclaimed to us as she rushed into the study. “Aphrodite is pregnant!”

“Truly? How wonderful!” My father grinned, tossing his book onto the table in haste to see the letter my mother waved like a royal decree before us. If anyone knew anything about my father, Lord Charles Du Bell, the Marquess of Monthermer, it was that he did not toss books lightly.

“Yes, she is rather far along. She wished not to say anything until she was very well sure. Now that she is, she apologizes for not being able to make it this summer but assures us that despite persistent exhaustion and an insatiable appetite for bread-and-butter pudding, she is in good health.” My mother handed the letter to him, even though she had told him all its contents.

The grin on my father’s white face was so wide I could count every wrinkle. “If I remember correctly, you were similarly afflicted while pregnant with Damon. The whole estate smelled like a bakery for weeks.”

“Did someone say my name?” Damon questioned as he entered the study, carrying in his arms a small girl, not yet two, with light brown skin and the curliest brown hair. Immediately upon seeing her, my mother rushed to take her into her arms.

“Mini, you are going to be a big cousin soon.” My mother kissed her cheek. The girl’s name was actually Minerva, Minerva Du Bell, as Damon had sought to keep Father’s tradition of styling all daughters after goddesses. However, everyone had taken to calling her Mini, a nickname bestowed by none other than our youngest sister, Abena, who was most glad to have someone younger to order around now. Mini, though, had no clue what Mother rambled to her.

“Truly?” Damon smiled the same as our father as he stood next to him to see the letter. Over the years, I had noticed that while Damon looked completely like our mother, he had inherited all of our father’s personality traits—except book reading. Mother’s skin was a warm brown, just like Damon’s, and their eyes were the same shade of dark brown. “What grand news. I will write to Evander to congratulate him. If the boy is born before Christmas, maybe we will spend the new year with them at Everely since they cannot make it this summer.”

“The boy?” My father chuckled. “How are you so certain the child will be a boy?”

“Did you not say Mother was similar when pregnant with me? Odite always does everything in Mother’s image. Besides, Evander has a daughter already, so I’m sure a boy will supply some comfort,” Damon explained.

“Strange that you provided no such comfort with your birth, only greater concern.” My father chuckled, causing Damon to roll his eyes, which then fell upon me as I sat in the corner of the room behind my easel.

“Hathor? I did not even realize you were in here,” Damon said.

“Yes, I noticed. Mama did not either,” I replied as I sketched the book stacks behind them to the best of my ability.

“I very well did notice you, my dear. I was merely waiting for you to offer your excitement at this joyous news. Why are you just sitting there?” my mother said as she bounced Mini in her arms. And they all looked at me, waiting.

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The Scarred Highlander (Blood & Honor Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-scarred-highlander-blood-honor-trilogy-1-read-online-donna-fletcher Sat, 26 Aug 2023 11:52:33 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-scarred-highlander-blood-honor-trilogy-1-read-online-donna-fletcher Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Authors: Donna Fletcher Series: Blood & Honor Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)

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Cavell is searching for the wife he never wanted.

A marriage has been arranged without his consent by his ambitious father, but he cannot locate his wife and he hopes it is because she wants nothing to do with the marriage, though a more likely reason is she doesn’t want to be wed to a badly scarred Highlander. His time with the feared and soulless Gallowglass warriors earned him the facial scars that had not only stolen his fine features but much more from him. He intends to find his wife and end the marriage.

Elsie is searching for the husband she desperately needs.

With her da ill and her and her two sisters lives in danger and things happening that make no sense, she needs the formidable Gallowglass warrior. He possesses the strength and skill required to lead the clan and keep it safe. But how can she do that when she has been confined to an abbey and declared insane. She daringly makes an escape and searches for him with plans to seal their arranged marriage permanently.

Anger sparks and passion flares when the two get together surprising them both. But more surprises await them when a long-concealed secret shrouded in darkness for years begins to reveal itself and places Elsie and her sisters’ lives in danger.

While Cavell and Elsie teeter on the edge of falling in love, they delve into the heart of the mystery, determined to unearth the secret and determined to save her sisters, and Cavell determined to save the woman he never wanted to wed and now the woman he cannot live without.

Author
Cavell was first introduced in Highland Hearts A Cree & Dawn Novella. He popped in unexpectedly and I knew I had to give him his own book which developed into the Blood & Honor Highland Trilogy. There is a story arc that begins in this book and carries through to the third book but each individual love story finishes in each book.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Perched on his horse, Cavell stared at Dundren Abbey that emerged after he crested the rise. Without the favorable vantage point, he would have missed the sight of the abbey altogether, hidden amidst the ethereal mist and shielded by the imposing barrier of solid stone. His eyes remained locked on the structure, wondering what his wife was doing there.

A wife he never met and one he did not want.

“The marriage is beneficial to the clan, and it is past time you had a wife.”

So his father, Lord Philip, and his older and only brother Harcus had claimed, but Cavell knew both men well. The decision had nothing to do with it being past time for him to wed and everything to do with what benefitted Clan McCabe.

He made his descent down the rise toward the abbey. His father had made it clear what he expected of the marriage. His wife Elsie was the only daughter of Chieftain Norris of Clan Murdock, who was ill and not expected to live long. Cavell would become chieftain upon the old man’s death, securing more land for Clan McCabe. He was to collect his wife and settle in his new home with her, claiming the chieftain title upon the old man’s passing.

Cavell had his own plans, and they did not include a wife or becoming Chieftain of Clan Murdock. But to see his plans to fruition, he first had to rid himself of an unwanted wife.

There was something about the abbey that set him on edge. The place appeared more like a prison than a sanctuary with the high stone wall surrounding it. He did not fear entering it, though those beyond the wall might fear granting him entrance once they looked upon him. But this was where his wife was, and he was curious as to what she was doing here rather than at home with her clan.

Women were sent to an abbey for any number of reasons and some women even chose to retreat to one from time to time. Had his wife chosen to spend time here in prayer or hadn’t the choice been hers because she was a difficult woman who required lessons in being an obedient wife? Either way, it did not matter to him. She would not be his wife for long and, if by chance, she felt as he did about the marriage, she would readily agree to dissolve it.

He dismounted in front of the thick wooden door and gave a yank on the bell rope to announce his arrival. He kept the hood of his cloak pulled down to cover a good portion of his face. He would not have anyone see it before he was granted entrance.

A small square in the center of the door suddenly opened and someone demanded, “Who bids entrance?”

Cavell’s substantial height would have forced him to bow his head to see who was speaking, but he bowed to no man.

“I am here to fetch my wife, Elsie of the Clan Murdock,” he called out, not giving any other indication as to his identity.

The door creaked open, and Cavell entered, one hand giving a tug on his horse’s reins to follow behind him and his other hand near the hilt of his dagger at his waist. He had learned well not to trust and to always be prepared to defend.

The monk’s head barely reached Cavell’s shoulder and his considerable girth indicated that he surrendered often to the sin of gluttony, and while most would think him no threat, Cavell knew better. He had known many a man the monk’s generous size to be a worthy opponent.

“I am Brother Emanual,” the monk said and waved to a nearby monk. “Brother James will see to the care and feeding of your horse while we speak and partake of our delicious mead.”

Cavell grew suspicious. What was there to speak of? He was there to collect his wife. He chose to say nothing and followed Brother Emanual into the abbey. He kept his head bent just enough so no one could glance upon his face, though that would not be for long.

They had barely made their way into the entrance of the abbey when a horrific scream echoed throughout the structure and sent Cavell’s hand clutching the handle of his dagger.

“This way,” Brother Emanual said, leading the way and paying no mind to the scream.

As a warrior, Cavell was well acquainted with paying heed to one’s senses. It saved many a warrior’s life. Right now, his senses were warning him that something was not right there.

Not sure where he was being taken or the monk’s intention, he didn’t wait. He shoved his hood back off his head.

The monk stopped at an open door and turned to Cavell to allow him to enter first and his gasp sounded more like a scream as his eyes rounded in shock when he looked upon his face.

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A Gentleman Never Tells (Belmore Square #2) Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas http://www.ilovenovels.com/a-gentleman-never-tells-belmore-square-2-read-online-jodi-ellen-malpas Thu, 20 Jul 2023 19:20:07 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-gentleman-never-tells-belmore-square-2-read-online-jodi-ellen-malpas Genre: Historical Fiction Authors: Jodi Ellen Malpas Series: Belmore Square Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)

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A Gentleman never tells...but some secrets have a way of getting out.

Frank Melrose is on the cusp of taking his father's printing business global—the last thing he needs is the distraction of any woman, let alone the dazzling Taya Winters.

He's under pressure from the newspaper to unmask the mysterious highwayman causing havoc in Belmore Square, but his infuriating clashes with Taya keep slowing him down.

What's more, he's sure that the highwayman is right under their noses—and that exposing their identity will end not only his story, but ruin his family, too.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

I am nose-to-nose with the white stallion. My body as still as can be. But my heart? It thunders in my chest. My pulse? It booms. My God, I am more alive than ever. Whether it be with fear or excitement, I cannot tell. I allow my eyes to slowly travel up the horse’s nose to its rider. The horseman is staring down at me, their eyes hardly visible past their low hat and high scarf and the shadows they cast. Curious eyes, I’m sure, that are slightly narrowed, inspecting me. Then a small sparkle. Smiling?

I inhale and step back, needing to get the horseman in my sights, arms, body, legs and all, for I am certain I am not looking at a horseman at all.

But the impressive stallion moves before I do, rising up on its back legs on a neigh, loud and intimidating as I expect is intended. I stagger back and fall to my backside on the stones, but I somehow succeed in keeping my eyes up. The rider laughs but stops abruptly.

‘My God,’ I whisper, watching as she slides down from her horse and approaches me slowly, despite the warning of her two fellow, male – they’re definitely male – riders, who remain just a few yards away, their horses treading the ground impatiently. She holds out her gloved hand, and I take the dainty thing, getting to my feet. I must be at least a foot taller. She comes closer. Closer. Closer. Reaches up on her tippy toes. I close my eyes and breathe in, holding my breath. The skin of my cheeks heats, feeling her breath on my face from where she’s pulled her scarf down. And then her lips push into my rough cheek.

Magic.

Her face. Does she want me to see it? For she has removed her scarf.

I quickly open my eyes and blink, so very confused, my heartbeat ferocious in its pace, and find nothing before me. At least, no human, but the horse remains, and the rider is still upon its back.

What in the name of God just happened?

I reach for my cheek and feel it, as my sister hurries to my side and helps me to my feet, looking at the impressive white stallion as she does. I spend the few seconds I have before the rider kicks the horse into action committing every detail before me to memory, until all three of them gallop off into the distance, kicking up dirt, making the ground vibrate. I turn on the spot, mesmerised, in a trance, speechless, my head just about ready to explode with the pressure of words swimming around my brain.

I bolt up in bed on a gasp and glance around, a little disorientated, and exhale when I find I am, indeed, in my bed and not at the mercy of the highwayman. Or woman. It has to be a woman. Each time I dream the dream, a little something else is added. This time, a kiss. My God, I am obsessed.

I jump out of bed and go to my writing desk in the window, collecting my quill and dunking it in the pot of ink, not taking a seat – I don’t have time – my mind needing to get the words out. The smell of the horse. The tickle of its coarse hair when we stood nose-to-nose. The gallop of my heart that I’m sure pounded harder than the hooves of the horse at a full canter. I write until my hand aches and I drop my quill, exhaling, running a hand through my hair as I look up out of the window.

I lean forward and pull the half-drawn draperies aside, focused on the floating form of a girl across the cobbles. Lady Taya Winters. Also known as my brother-in-law’s little sister. The woman does not walk but floats. She’s quite a vision, I admit. Her bright green eyes shine, her dark blonde hair is adorably wild, her cheeks blushed, her lips plump, and her lashes long and fluttering.

My God, she is beautiful.

And completely forbidden.

From the day I met her, when she returned to Belmore Square with her mother, Wisteria Winters, and her brother, Lord Sampson Winters, I have been wary of her. I am not without female attention. I am, however, without the thrill one would expect from female attention. That has died a slow, painful death over the course of my time in London – a sign of my overindulgence, I suppose. I cannot tell you whether it be her aloofness or simply her unusual, wild, unconventional beauty, but when Lady Taya Winters glanced at me that fateful day, I felt as though I’d been struck by lightning. Twice. I walked away telling myself I need to keep my distance from Taya Winters, for she is sure to get me into trouble, and I need no trouble, no complications, especially now when I must convince my father to let me publish my story. I have never desired to write for our family newspaper. I have hardly expressed any interest in the operations of our family newspaper, The London Times, doing the bare minimum I could without doing nothing at all. Porter helped run the business with Papa, until, of course, his untimely death, and my sister wrote the most popular stories. I had very little enthusiasm for work or writing, so I made myself useful elsewhere. Usually in a woman’s bed.

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The Angel and the Highlander – Sinclare Brothers Read Online Donna Fletcher http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-angel-and-the-highlander-sinclare-brothers-read-online-donna-fletcher Wed, 17 May 2023 05:16:08 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-angel-and-the-highlander-sinclare-brothers-read-online-donna-fletcher Genre: Historical Fiction Authors: Donna Fletcher Advertisement

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)

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The fearless warrior has finally met his match . . . When Alyce Bunnock's father tried to marry her off, she fled, taking shelter at Everagis Abbey, donning a nun's habit, and renaming herself Sister Terese. But when Lachlan Sinclare arrives to restore her to her family, the safety of the convent is shattered. At the sight of the handsome Highlander, Alyce fears for her freedom—and weakens with desire. Lachlan has been tasked with finding shrewish Alyce, but can think only of beautiful Terese. Yet with every forbidden touch, Lachlan comes closer to the truth. And once her secret is revealed, Alyce must choose between the independence she's always craved and the tempting man she cannot resist.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

“I’m not going. She’s a shrew, and from what I’ve heard an ugly one at that. There’s not a man alive who can deal with her. Why do you think her father stuck her in a convent?” Lachlan shook his head adamantly all the while knowing that no matter how hard he protested, he would have no choice. He would have to go and escort Alyce, daughter of Angus of the clan Bunnock, the laird of the largest and most powerful clan in the whole north of Scotland.

“By now she’ll have learned to behave,” Cavan said bluntly.

Lachlan bit his tongue. It wasn’t because Cavan was his oldest brother, but rather that Cavan was laird of the clan Sinclare and was due respect and obedience. Lachlan would have given it to his brother regardless. Cavan was a man of tremendous courage and conviction and he lead the clan with honor. He couldn’t disrespect him just because he didn’t like the task at hand.

Besides,” Cavan said with a glint of a smile, “there isn’t a woman I haven’t seen you able to charm. I’m confident that you can handle a shrew.”

Lachlan grinned and nodded. “You’re right. There isn’t a woman I can’t handle, nor one who’s impervious to my charm.”

“Then the mission should prove simple and successful. Go retrieve Alyce Bunnock so that she may wed the man of her father’s choosing.”

Lachlan was about to ask the obvious question when Cavan held up his hand.

“It doesn’t matter if she objects. She has a duty to her father and clan. Tie her to the horse if you have to, but get her here.”

“That’s all I wanted to know,” Lachlan said, satisfied his hands weren’t tied if she should give him trouble.

“You leave tomorrow at first light. Take a strong contingent of warriors with you. Angus Bunnock informed me that the area is mostly pagan, the reason why the church sent the nuns to establish the convent five years ago. On top of that a band of mercenaries has been plundering the region. To what extent or how strong their group, I do not know.”

“Ten Highlander warriors should do against a ragtag band of misfits.”

“Don’t ever underestimate your opponents. Some of those misfits have probably fought more battles than you.”

“I will be sure to stay alert,” Lachlan said.

“Be sure you stay alive,” Cavan commanded.

Lachlan finished recalling the meeting he had with his brother Cavan prior to his departure three weeks ago. So far it had been an uneventful journey, but they weren’t far now from the convent. They were deep in pagan territory and there were signs of another group inhabiting the area, probably the mercenaries he had been warned about.

The horses were skittish over unfamiliar sounds that followed them. The forest was the thickest Lachlan had ever seen, making it more difficult to find or blaze a sufficient trail. Then there was the strange mist that could be counted on to confound since there was no rhythm or reason to its arrival or departure.

The men voiced their concerns in whispers, afraid of insulting the forest spirits. Though new beliefs proliferated, old beliefs died hard and it didn’t hurt to pay homage to the old ones now and again.

Lachlan led his men with confidence and caution. They were in unfamiliar territory and it wouldn’t do to be careless. He had chosen good, experienced men, though Boyd and Andrew had volunteered. He shared much in common with the two. They craved adventure, women, and were close in age to his twenty-six years.

Boyd rode up alongside him. He sat tall in his saddle, though his height fell several inches short of Lachlan’s not quite six feet. He was broad and thick with muscle and had long dark red hair and a boyish face the lassies loved.

“The few farms we’ve passed looked to be prosperous.” Boyd shook his head. “I hadn’t expected to see that with talk of mercenaries in the area.”

“I thought the same myself,” Lachlan said. “They usually take what they want in the way of food and women.”

“Yet in the last two days it appears as if we’ve crossed a border of sorts where every farm and its people are flourishing and happy.”

“We are not far from the convent; perhaps the nuns have had a beneficial affect on the land and its people.”

“Not if Alyce Bunnock had anything to do with it,” Boyd said.

Lachlan cringed. “Don’t remind me. I’ve heard more horrid tales about the—” He stopped himself from referring to her as a lady, which gave Boyd time to throw in his own descriptions.

“Shrew, witch, ogre, hellion—”

“Come, she can’t be that bad,” Andrew said, joining them, his sharp smile, craggy features, and jet black, straight shoulder-length hair in sharp contrast to Boyd’s boyish appeal, his height nearer to Lachlan’s.

“Then you deal with her,” Lachlan and Boyd said in unison.

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The Legendary Highlander (Highland Myths Trilogy #3) Read Online Donna Fletcher http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-legendary-highlander-highland-myths-trilogy-3-read-online-donna-fletcher Tue, 09 May 2023 20:48:53 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-legendary-highlander-highland-myths-trilogy-3-read-online-donna-fletcher Genre: Historical Fiction, Myth/Mythology Authors: Donna Fletcher Series: Highland Myths Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)

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Is she a witch or a healer?

Lord Varrick is the Legendary Highlander who has well-earned the myth centered around him. He is known for his endless victories in battle, his fearless skill as a warrior, and his soulless nature. He rules over a heavily forested area in the north and rumors spread that he commands an army of the dead and that no one passes through his land without his permission, or they chance battling his ethereal warriors. Truth or tale? No one knows and no one takes the chance of finding out.
Fia is a healer from a long line of healers. She is eager to learn all she can so she can help the ill, though more importantly prevent illness if possible. Her grandmother warned her to be careful that there were those who would misjudge her and threaten her life. A fair warning indeed, for she has met such a fate and is now in the hands of the legendary Highlander. But not the way she thought she would be… she is forced to wed him.
Lord Varrick refuses to tell her what he wants with her, and she fears that once he has what he wants her fate will be sealed, and he will see her dead, ending their marriage and being rid of her. How to prevent such a fate is the challenge she faces. He does not hold her prisoner but has warned her of the consequences if she should run from him and it is not something she wishes to chance.

Note: While this trilogy does not need to be read in sequence, each book a standalone, Fia and other characters from Highland Myth Trilogy were first introduced in Highland Secrets A Cree & Dawn Novel… a prelude of sorts to their individual stories.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

WAKE! HE IS HERE!

Fia jolted up out of sleep, eyes wide and heart pounding, the deep, commanding voice continuing to echo in her ears. She pulled her wool cloak tightly around her, not that it did much good against the cold that penetrated the dungeon’s stone walls where she was held prisoner—though not for much longer.

He had arrived to take possession of her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. There had been nothing she could do when captured weeks ago, imprisoned, and accused of being a witch. Her twenty-odd years had taught her that ignorance was a difficult foe to battle.

She was no witch. She was a healer from a long line of healers. She had inherited the skill of her ancestors and their passion to learn, to prefect their craft, to help the ill, and… like some before her, possess the knowing. She would sense things to come and a voice in her head often guided her. Both had benefited her, kept her safe, had even helped her as a healer. Other times it had nearly gotten her killed. She tried to make sense of it and find a way to control it, but it wasn’t possible. It had a will of its own, so she had learned to live with it the best way she could, and, at times, she had learned to hide it.

She shivered, a long, drawn-out shiver, and it was not only the cold that brought it on, but fear. She had sensed, not long after her arrival here, that a man would come for her and demand to take possession of her. Unfortunately, she did not know why. She only knew that fate had sent him, but fate could be a friend or foe and only time would tell which one it was meant to be.

Fia stood, stretching the stiffness and aches from her limbs. Her sleeping palette was nothing more than a thin layer of hay with a sparse wool blanket spread over it. She often wrapped the blanket around her cloak for extra warmth. Still, she had never felt warm enough since arriving here.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of her hunger. Tavia, the daughter of Chieftain Newlin of Clan Strathearn, made sure she had sufficient food, as did Flora, the chieftain’s niece. But an arranged marriage had Tavia recently leaving with her husband. A hastily arranged marriage had taken Flora away as well.

Cora, one of the cooks in the kitchen, had tried her best to bring her food but Chieftain Newlin made it difficult for her. He believed Fia a witch and feared what she might inflict on him and the clan, making it difficult for Cora to sneak her sufficient food.

She would forgo the food right now for a bucket of water so she might clean herself before meeting her fate. The stench in her cell had her wrinkling her nose and she worried that some of it was coming from her, having had no chance to wash since her capture.

Fia stilled, catching a sound. It was the door at the top of the stairs creaking open. Light footfalls followed cautiously and Fia hurried to the iron bars on the cell door.

“Cora?” Fia called out softly.

“Aye, it is me,” Cora acknowledged just as softly, fearful someone would hear.

Fia was glad to see the short, round woman, though the worry on her face had Fia asking, “What’s wrong, Cora?”

“He has arrived,” Cora said and hugged herself protectively. “He has the finest features I have ever seen on a man and yet he is the most frightening man I have ever seen. His warriors do not move without a command from him. And one look from his,” —she shivered— “I have never seen the color of his eyes before, a blue so bold it captures you and you cannot look away. One look, not a word from him, and his warriors obey without hesitation. Thankfully, he did not bring his army of the dead with him.” She shivered again. “Chieftain Newlin trembles in his presence, most do. I have heard the legends spread about him. Spawned from the mist of battle one day the tale goes, but they seemed more fanciful than true.” Her eyes went wide. “Now, though, seeing him with my own eyes, I believe the tales are true and I cannot wait for him to take his leave.”

Cora’s words sent a shudder through Fia. She would go from one prison to another, forced to leave with him.

“I am so sorry,” Cora rushed to say. “I wish you could be set free. I do not believe you are a witch, though I cannot say that to others. They would believe you cast a spell on me and have me do your bidding.” She hurried a wrapped cloth through the space in the bars. “I managed to sneak some bread, though you might be better meeting him on an empty stomach.”

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Verity and the Forbidden Suitor (The Dubells #2) Read Online J.J. McAvoy http://www.ilovenovels.com/verity-and-the-forbidden-suitor-the-dubells-2-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Mon, 24 Apr 2023 15:56:02 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/verity-and-the-forbidden-suitor-the-dubells-2-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Historical Fiction Authors: J.J. McAvoy Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)

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A spirited and independent heiress defies the expectations of society to chase happily ever after in this irresistible romance from the author of Aphrodite and the Duke.

With her brother, the Duke of Everely, married off to the beautiful and charming Aphrodite Du Bell, Verity Eagleman feels more alone than ever within the cold halls of the family estate. So when she's invited to stay in the Du Bells' clamorous, boisterous home, she leaps at the chance.

When Verity crosses paths with Theodore Darrington, the doctor who saved her brother's life, she can't help but notice how her heart flutters anytime he is near. But as the estranged bastard son of the Marquess of Whitmear, Theodore is forbidden to pursue anyone of the noble set. Despite being popular amongst the ton for both his heroic efforts and handsome charm, Theodore knows that no amount of social capital will allow him to be with the woman he secretly loves. Luckily for him, Verity has never cared much for the rules of society. . . .

A forbidden romance blossoms as Verity and Theodore give in to their all-consuming passion, with any thought of scandal flung to the side. But when the concerns of their friends and family begin to loom over their love, will they truly be able to break the rules?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Verity

I am not a Du Bell.

But oh, how I longed to be. Not for title or wealth, nor even prestige and influence, as my family name, Eagleman, held all the same to even greater extents as a dukedom. With the exception of being a princess, there is no higher birth a girl could have than my own. And I was very much aware of the many who envied my life. Despite the many scandals of my household—my father’s affairs and illegitimate son, my mother’s misery and then death, followed by my father’s wholly inappropriate marriage to my stepmother, a butcher’s daughter; not to mention Evander, my elder brother, and his own marriage mishaps—there was no shortage of people asserting how fortunate I was to be born Lady Verity Eagleman. But given the choice, I would have preferred to be born Lady Verity Du Bell. To be born into a home filled with warmth, laughter, and teasing. A home filled to the brim with overwhelming love.

Instead, love seemed to always evade me. As though it had some personal vendetta against me. Evander was the godson of the Marchioness of Monthermer, Lady Deanna Du Bell, and as such was afforded many opportunities to experience such tender emotions with the family. I, on the other hand, was kept away from them and society at the behest of my father. By the time he passed, Evander had made a mess of our connection with the Du Bells, and, consequently, no other chances presented themselves.

Now, as I watched the candlelight of my brother’s carriage fade into the darkness, taking him and his perfect new wife, Lady Aphrodite, to their long-awaited happily ever after, the opportunity had arrived, only I knew not how to stand before this family or society at all.

I was alone.

The name Verity means truth, and yet I felt as if I were nothing but a lie. In front of most people, I sought to appear confident, self-reliant, but the truth is I was afeard…of so much.

“I cannot believe it is done,” said the marquess to his wife, whom he held openly within his arms, as we all stood before the gates of their London estate.

“After all these years, you still underestimate me, my dear?” the marchioness replied with her head held high, appearing pleased with herself.

The marquess was a man of white skin and golden hair that was nearly all gray now, with sharp blue eyes that always seemed focused upon either his family or a book. His wife was the opposite of him, with rich brown skin deeper in shading than my own and curly brown hair that she kept pinned up neatly. Rather than books, her brown eyes read people with frightening accuracy.

“Underestimate? Never. Stand in awe of your power? Always. Well done, my dear.” He squeezed her arm slightly, making her laugh while their eldest son groaned.

Damon Du Bell, the Earl of Montagu, also stood beside his wife, Silva, whose face was a bit round with a nose a bit short, but her demeanor was pleasant. They were locked, arm in arm, very much a parallel set to his parents. The look on Damon’s face showed he was not keen on the elder couple’s public display of affection, even as he mimicked them.

“One would think that you would have some restraint at your ages,” Damon said to them as though he were the parent.

“Dear,” Silva muttered in apprehension.

“You should thank heaven we do not, or you would not exist,” his father replied, making the marchioness’s eyes widen.

“Charles!”

“Father!”

“What are you all talking about?” questioned the youngest Du Bell, Abena, her little face bunched in confusion. Alongside her were two of her sisters, Hathor and Devana, and her brother Hector.

“Nothing!” said the marchioness and her eldest son in unison.

“That does not seem like nothing,” Abena pressed, frowning. “Are you keeping a secret?”

“Yes, they are,” said Hathor, the second Du Bell daughter, causing Abena to look to her for an answer. “Mama and Papa were thinking of sending you off to a professional pot washer, seeing as how you’ve become so good at it of late.”

Hector and Devana giggled and then laughed outright as Abena looked at her parents in horror.

“No, Papa!” Abena ran to her father, holding on to his waist for dear life, which made the marquess bend to her level and hug her.

“She is merely teasing you,” he comforted her.

But at that moment, it was I who felt pain.

What must it have been like to hug one’s father, one’s own mother even?

I did not know.

I stood before one of the most prominent and amiable families in all the ton, one I had always wished to be a part of, yet now I desperately desired to escape their blissful company. The irony.

“Verity, my dear, are you well?” the marchioness asked, stepping away slightly from her husband toward me.

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Highland Hearts – A Cree & Dawn Read Online Donna Fletcher http://www.ilovenovels.com/highland-hearts-a-cree-dawn-read-online-donna-fletcher Sun, 26 Feb 2023 20:45:11 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/highland-hearts-a-cree-dawn-read-online-donna-fletcher Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Erotic, Historical Fiction, Romance Authors: Donna Fletcher Advertisement

Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)

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It’s moving time for Cree & Dawn and trouble is brewing.

The new castle is finally finished and ready, but is Dawn? She is feeling reluctant to make the move and does not understand why.
Cree, on the other hand, is ready for the move as are the children, but he is annoyed as well since there are multiple troubles brewing. Not only is there worry that the King will demand his help should talks with the King of Norway turn confrontational and force a battle, but William, the architect of the castle, and a troop of his warriors have been abducted and the ransom demand is high. But the most troublesome issue for Cree is that a young artist, a friend of William’s, has arrived unexpectedly and shows far too much interest in Dawn.
Cree has much to contend with, a move to see to, a clan to keep safe, people to rescue, and a young man who is about to discover the very reason Cree is a feared and infamous Highland warrior.

Included in the book is a map of the new castle and surrounding village.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Dawn stretched herself awake like a cat, lazily, in no hurry to move. She smiled inwardly as she waited for her husband’s arm to slip over her, for his musky scent to drift around her, and for his hand to slowly, as well as intentionally, roam over her. When his touch failed to reach her, she opened her eyes to find herself alone in bed.

It was the fourth day in a row Cree had left their bed before she woke, and it upset her. It was rare for either of them to leave their bed before they both woke.

Her husband was not the only one who deserted her in the morning lately, Beast had as well. The large dog was usually her constant companion but of late he had left with Cree in the morning before she woke, then he would join her later in the day.

She sighed, though it could not be heard, only felt by her, and it made her wonder. Could her husband have grown tired of being wed to a voiceless woman?

Dawn had learned to communicate through gestures, having been born voiceless, not even able to offer a grunt or a groan, only complete silence. How tedious that must be for her husband especially when they made love. He heard no moans of pleasure from her, nor his name screamed out when he sent her into an explosion of pleasure.

She sat up and stared down at her night shift. Cree had not even complained when she had worn it to bed last night, which she had done on purpose. She wanted to see if he would do what he usually did—take it off her, and he had not.

Not since they were first intimate had he rarely let her sleep anything but naked beside him except when they were away from home. What had changed?

The newly built keep.

It was nearly ready for them to move into, and Cree had been spending most of his time there to see the last of it done and made ready. The twins, Lizbeth and Valan, five years now and Tynan, three years, often went with him. They were excited about moving into the new keep. It was all Lizbeth could talk about while Tynan was fascinated with the watchtower that sat at the top of the cliff looking over the Kyle of Tongue and, in the distance, spread the mountains of Ben Loyal. Valan could be found watching the warriors at practice on the new practice field and often joining them with his wooden sword.

Dawn wished she was as enthusiastic as they were with the move, but she was finding it difficult. The village that spread out at the base of the keep they now occupied had been her home since she had been young and arrived at Village Dowell with her mum. The keep had become her home when she wed Cree. It was where she had given birth to her three children. The place held endless memories for her, and her heart ached when she thought about leaving it. She knew every nook and cranny of the place, and each held a specific memory that often made her smile.

It was not as if they were moving a distance away. The new keep and surrounding village were only a short horse ride away or a fifteen-minute walk.

Dawn forced herself out of bed, stretching to her full height, being taller than most other women and glad for it since her husband was well over six feet. She did not hurry to dress since her family probably had already eaten and had left for the new keep. She had joined them a few times but had not felt comfortable there, not that she told Cree that. He would be disappointed, though she wondered if he would even care with as little time as he had spent with her lately.

She was feeling sorry for herself and that annoyed her when there was much that needed to get done for this move. If Cree’s absence from their bed in the morning troubled her so much, then she needed to let him know. They never had a problem discussing matters and that made her smile thinking how her husband often accused her of talking too much. That alone should prove to her that her silence did not trouble him, and yet she wondered.

Dressed and her long, dark auburn hair braided, she took the stairs down to enter the Great Hall. It was empty as she had expected it would be. Though, Flanna entered not long after her. She ran the keep and while they were not longtime friends, she had become an ally and good friend when Cree had attacked Clan Carrick and claimed it as his own with permission from the king.

“Breakfast, Dawn?” Flanna asked.

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Tame My Wild Touch – American West Read Online Donna Fletcher http://www.ilovenovels.com/tame-my-wild-touch-american-west-read-online-donna-fletcher Fri, 20 Jan 2023 22:15:19 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/tame-my-wild-touch-american-west-read-online-donna-fletcher Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Romance Authors: Donna Fletcher Advertisement

Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)

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“USA Today bestselling author”

Prudence Agatha Winthrop is a proper Bostonian lady determined to go West. She’s on a mission to find her mother who she had thought dead these many years. Nothing is going to stop her, not her wealthy father, not the simpering man who fancies himself her future husband and least of all the infamous gunslinger Zac Stewart who warned the Boston Ladies Club of the perils of the West.

Zac Stewart can’t believe that the Bostonian spitfire has actually headed West or that he’s agreed to go after her and return her home. It doesn’t take long to catch up with her and in a saloon of all places where the owner thinks that she’s there to hire on as a prostitute. He saves her from one mess only to find her in another until she gets them into a dilemma that has only one way out… marriage.

As much as Prudence tries to ignore her attraction to the gunslinger, she can’t ignore how his kisses stir her passion and touch her heart. But love is hard for her to accept and it takes a daring act on Zac’s part to prove he’d go to any length to show how much he loves her.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

"Ladies, take your petticoats and corsets off. What you need now is a gun and courage." Zac Stewart didn't smile when he made the strange announcement to the Boston Ladies Social Club. He was serious. Dead serious. The thirty-five women attending the meeting sat staring at the handsome man, their mouths opened in shock, their faces paled off-white.

Zac continued with a telltale shake of his head. Not one of them had actually heard what he had said. The only thing on their empty-headed minds was that he had had the audacity to mention their undergarments.

"The West is far different from the East. There are towns where law and order is the gun you wear strapped to your side. Where weather conditions can prove fatal and food supplies can run so low that you eat one meal a day or perhaps none at all."

Zac gripped the podium in front of him. His long fingers tightened on the sides of the polished wood as he looked out at the sea of intent and shocked faces. "Snake meat is good when nothing else can be found. You learn to kill it, strip it, and stew it."

Several of the women groaned, while others raised their hands to their mouths and ran hastily from the room.

Zac caught the eye of one woman near the back. She hadn't flinched since the beginning of his speech. She sat stiff and straight, so stiff that he was positive her corset ran the entire length of her back, forcing her to retain her rigid posture. Even her lips were puckered tightly shut, and the crazy thought of how difficult it would be to kiss her flashed through his mind, bringing a smile to his face.

Heavy silence descended over the room, and Zac cursed his straying imagination. He'd been told time and time again how devastating his smile could be on the female species, and he wasn't the least bit interested in becoming involved with a specimen from Boston.

They were too stuffy and proper for his sinful taste. "Think wisely about your decision to go west. There are hardships to endure, unpredictable weather, illnesses, and much more."

"You mean the savages, Mr. Stewart?" a young woman in the front row questioned.

"The Indians," Zac corrected, "have proven to be difficult at times."

"Difficult?" another soft, yet stern voice asked.

Zac had no doubt who the staunch voice belonged to. His eyes abruptly settled on the young woman with the puckered lips.

"Difficult is not a word I would use to describe savages who horribly torture decent white people."

"Prudence Agatha Winthrop, really," Caroline Davis admonished. "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss such things. As president of this club, I extended an invitation to Mr. Stewart to speak of the West —"

"And what one could expect if one traveled there," Prudence finished. "He isn't being fair to those who intend to journey there if he doesn't properly explain all the hazards one will face."

"Prudence, you are being obstinate as usual," Caroline scolded with a shake of her finger.

"I only wish to hear the truth," Prudence said, her chin tilted just a fraction, a clear sign of her tenaciousness.

"In full detail, Miss Winthrop?" Zac asked, thinking her name Prudence fit her prudish nature perfectly.

"If it will help those preparing to make the trek west, then yes."

Zac couldn't help but smile once again. Of course, it wasn't Prudence Agatha Winthrop's face that brought the curl to his lips. She was too plain. Her features were too common to stand out and make a man take notice. No, it was her proper posture and speech that rattled him. She obviously thought herself better than others and perhaps more intelligent.

"Very well, Miss Winthrop, details it is. Let's see, shall I begin with how the Indians strip the women bare, burn various parts of their body, gorge chunks of flesh—"

“Mr. Stewart!" Caroline Davis screeched, standing on shaky legs and covering her full chest with her hand as though her aging heart could take no more.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Davis, but Miss Winthrop did request details. I apologize if I offended anyone."

"Nonsense, Mr. Stewart," Caroline responded sharply, then turned to glare at Prudence. "It is Miss Winthrop who should apologize."

The twenty remaining women focused their attention on Prudence and waited. Each face spoke clearly of their disdain for her improper behavior.

Prudence folded her white glove-covered hands primly in her lap. She held her head erect, looked straight at Mr. Stewart, and spoke. "Please accept my apologies. You have made it quite clear this is not a topic for the Boston Ladies Social Club."

"It's not a topic for any decent woman to discuss," Caroline chided, then turned with a distinct flourish to face the eager faces of the other women. "Ladies, I'm certain Mr. Stewart would be glad to answer appropriate questions."

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