Friday, April 29, 2022

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Escaping with her Saxon Enemy by Sarah Rodi @ERomNews @sarahrodiedits @rararesources #Historical #New

 





Escaping With Her Saxon Enemy

Her tempting enemy is a chink in her armour!

Viking shield maiden, Svea Ivarsson, would far rather face Saxon warriors than be on the run with the fiercely captivating Lord Ashford Stanton, protector to the Saxon King. Reaching Ash’s family castle, Svea must swap her chainmail for life as a Lady. She can wield a sword like an expert, but no training has prepared her for craving the touch of her greatest enemy…


Purchase Link

Amazon UK- https://www.amazon.co.uk/Escaping-Saxon-Enemy-Historical-Ivarssons-ebook/dp/B09JVQ5W1F

Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/Escaping-Saxon-Enemy-Historical-Ivarssons-ebook/dp/B09JVQ5W1F




Escaping with her Saxon Enemy – by Sarah Rodi

Excerpt from chapter one. They are at Danish shield maiden Svea’s brother’s wedding (couple from book 1). The Saxon soldiers are there to guard the King and Svea is pouring drinks for the guests and has to speak to Lord Stanton for the first time...

 

‘Ah, Lord Stanton. Would you care for a drink?’ She held up the jug. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you touch a drop all evening.’

Her narrow nose drew his gaze down and he studied her full, soft lips, which were a pretty petal-pink, although her smile looked stiff and her voice was clipped.

He gave her a brisk smile in return. ‘Thank you, but no. I am here out of duty, not pleasure.’

Her gaze turned glacial, her face taut, and he knew instantly that she liked his kind as much as he liked hers. Was she just putting on a show for her brother’s guests, as he was for his King?

‘And ale only serves to cloud the judgement, don’t you think?’

‘Well, we can’t have that,’ she mocked. ‘We all know your sound judgement is what’s keeping us

all in check.’

His brow furrowed at her blatant disrespect. He was used to being revered and well-regarded by the people of Termarth. ‘You must be referring to my judgement on the Crowe situation—my wisdom in demanding that you show mercy to a man already broken and on his knees…’ Clearly she was just looking for someone to blame—and he was it.

‘Wisdom…was that what it was? Or interference? Crowe killed my father, Lord Stanton. You took the side of my enemy and denied me my revenge.’

He could detect the anger simmering beneath her words, the fire in her personality, and it was igniting an unwanted spark inside him.

Ash inclined his head slightly, as if to acknowledge the weight of her claim. ‘I didn’t know that at the time.’

‘Would your actions have been different had you known?’

‘Probably not. I don’t believe in taking the law into your own hands. What you did was reckless.’

Her eyes flashed in the flickering firelight. Svea was headstrong, she was impetuous—she was everything he’d been brought up to see as dangerous in a person. And judging by the way his lower body was responding to hers, she was most certainly a danger to him…

‘I’d waited years… I think that was long enough to consider my feelings on the matter.’

He sighed, but was careful to maintain his steady tone. ‘I have had the man locked away—a satisfactory outcome for us both. Yet, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve avoided me each time we’ve met since.’

She shrugged one slim defined shoulder, unwittingly drawing his attention to the material of her dress stretching across the generous swells of her breasts. ‘You flatter yourself, Lord Stanton. To ignore you would imply I am even aware of your presence.’

He clicked his jaw. He found her scorn irritating, but her indifference was maddening. Her hand on her hip, she gave him a challenging stare. His eyes dropped to her shoulder, where a dark, intricate design swirled its way over her collarbone and behind her hair. She had another dark symbol he didn’t recognise etched into her wrist. He wanted to tug her closer and inspect it, but he didn’t dare touch her. Her whole demeanour screamed for him to stay back.

‘Some people may find your status as the King’s right-hand man something to be lauded, but others know it’s easy to make it in this world with a father in high places,’ she added.

He forced a dismissive laugh, but her open assault on his position in life took him aback. And he understood. She was still angry. She wanted to lash out and hurt him, as he had hurt her in denying her the chance to avenge her father’s death. But if only she knew the truth… How he’d had to fight to make it in this world, cast out of his parents’ home when he was just a boy, unwanted. And he still had a battle on his hands even now, to keep his title and his inheritance. His pride.

‘Anyway, we are at my brother’s wedding, and unfortunately I have a duty to be gracious to all his guests—you included. If you don’t care for a drink, I shall have one for you. I suddenly feel in need.’

She lifted a tankard from a nearby table and proceeded to pour herself a cup of ale. Raising it up in the air, she made a toast. ‘To the happy couple. And

I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening…’

‘Doubtful. I have no interest in weddings.’

‘We are in agreement about that, at least. Skol!’ she said, before downing the tankard of ale in one go. Afterwards, as if to disrespect him further, she drew her sleeve across her mouth, wiping the tiny beads of moisture away.

He stared at her, incredulous. He had never known a beautiful woman try so hard to disguise her allure. It intrigued him. ‘Still, you played and certainly looked the part today,’ he said. He wanted to rake his eyes over the soft, feminine curves of her body, but he was careful to keep them trained on her face. He knew how important it was to treat a woman with respect. ‘Up until a moment ago, I thought you looked lovely.’

Her face darkened and she gave an unladylike disdainful snort. He wished the words back the moment he’d uttered them, knowing he’d made a mistake.

She placed the empty tankard down on his table. ‘You seem to have a knack of imparting your opinion upon people who don’t want to hear it, Lord Stanton. And, as I’ve been sweating like a pig on its way to the smokehouse all day, I think you should save your compliments for the bride.’

 




Author Bio – Sarah Rodi has always been a hopeless romantic. She grew up watching old, romantic movies recommended by her grandad, or devouring love stories from the local library. Sarah lives in the village of Cookham in Berkshire, where she enjoys walking along the River Thames with her husband, her two daughters and their dog. She has been a magazine journalist for over 20 years, but it has been her lifelong dream to write romance for Mills & Boon. Sarah believes everyone deserves to find their happy ever after. You can contact her via @sarahrodiedits or sarahrodiedits@gmail.com. Or visit her website at sarahrodi.com

Social Media Links – @sarahrodiedits www.sarahrodi.com

Follow Sara Rodi on Twitter - https://twitter.com/sarahrodiedits


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