Table of Contents
Title Page
About Kiss Across Kingdoms
Praise for the Kiss Across Time Series
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
The Next Book in the Kiss Across Time series
About the Author
Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey
Copyright Information
About Kiss Across Kingdoms
They must go back in time because history says they already have.
Six years have passed since Alex, Rafe and Sydney met and fell in love. Steeped in the stories of time travel by Brody, Veris and Taylor, they have avoided time-jumping, too afraid their every action will change the past and bring disaster upon everyone.
Taylor brings home a book from tenth century Anglo-Saxon England. Within is a hidden cypher that insists Rafe and Sydney must travel back to Powys, the most powerful kingdom of ancient Wales.
But the pair don’t arrive together. Rafe finds himself in the kingdom of Powys, scribe to the king, Llewelyn, as he was when he first lived through that time. Sydney, however, is in the land of the Lady of Mercia. She is a woman alone in a land and time she doesn’t know.
The two must find a way back to each other across the two warring kingdoms, while Alex tries desperately to help them, from eleven centuries into the future….
Warning: This time travel ménage romance features two super-hot alpha vampire heroes, multiple sex scenes, including anal sex, MM sexual play, and MMF sex. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you.
The time-space continuum was restored to order at the end of this book. Promise.
This is the fifth book in the Kiss Across Time paranormal series:
Kiss Across Time 1.0: Kiss Across Time
Kiss Across Time 2.0: Kiss Across Swords
Kiss Across Time 2.5: Time Kissed Moments I
Kiss Across Time 3.0: Kiss Across Chains
Kiss Across Time 4.0: Kiss Across Deserts
Kiss Across Time 5.0: Kiss Across Kingdoms
[Time Kissed Moments are short stories and novellas featuring the characters and situations featured in the Kiss Across Time series.]
A Time Travel Vampire Romance Novel
Praise for the Kiss Across Time Series
[She] has created characters that are engaging, unpredictable, outrageously funny and down-right appealing to readers who will steal their hearts. Shannon for The Romance Studio
I think you’ll be as entertained and affected by the chemistry between the characters as I was. A fast-moving romance that spanned several lifetimes and included a paranormal aspect that was a fun and totally unexpected surprise. Honeysuckle for Whipped Cream Erotic Romance Reviews
This was a great story with wonderful and surprising plot twists. The chemistry between the three is tangible. Stacey Krug for Siren Book Reviews
Paranormal erotic romance doesn’t get any more creative than [this]. Chris for Romance Junkies
This is a story, and these are characters, that stay with the reader long after the story is finished. Clare for Happily Ever After Reviews
Not only immensely imaginative, but incredibly ingenious – it’s an unforgettable journey. Chris for Romance Junkies Reviews
Her ability to create a story that captures readers and characters with depth will keep me coming back for more. Claudia for A Romance Review
She shows the reader how beautiful and seductive two men can be when they unleash their desires for each other. It’s a romance that has a number of elements, all combined to make a very captivating story. I’m looking forward to reading more in this imaginative series. Leslie for Leslie’s Psyche
A thrilling exploration of battle, self-loathing, trust, and a soul-shaking love that time cannot erase. Rhonda for Vampire Romance Books
Chapter One
Sydney would always remember the day it began, because that was the day Gronoya and New Denmark dropped two nuclear warheads upon Syria and Iraq and the whole world tottered on the very edge of the end. It was also the day Taylor brought home from England a copy of Nennius’ The History of the Britons, which had been smuggled out of Gronoya by Welsh clerics under the noses of the Herskers. It was the manuscript that started it.
Taylor, Veris and Brody loved their books and their history. Taylor was always digging up relics of the past and studying them as part of her work for the Library of Congress’ Archives. However, Alex and Rafe had lived a long time, too, so even they liked to pour over old manuscripts, often reading the forgotten languages aloud to prove they could and to tickle old memories.
So Taylor brought the scanned copy of the manuscript over to dinner that night and while Marit and Sydney ate, everyone sat about the big dining table studying the loose pages, as happy as pigs in clover.
Normally, Sydney preferred to eat in the kitchen. She often ate standing up at the counter as she was the only human in the house anymore. When there was company, though, they used the big, wood-paneled dining room. The table would seat twelve people comfortably, the upholstered dining chairs with their carved backs pulled up around it with a comfortable amount of elbow room. It was far too elegant a room for Sydney, although it was nice to have the company.
“These are very good scans,” Alex said, lifting one of the scans up closer for inspection. “You can still see the ghosts under the letters.”
“The whats?” Sydney asked, putting her knife and fork down.
Marit rolled her eyes. “The monks would sometimes erase errors by sanding the ink off the parchment. It left very faint marks behind.” She ate another mouthful of the shepherd’s pie.
Sydney smiled at her. “I suppose it’s unavoidable, learning that sort of thing at your age, when you’re living with history freaks.”
“You’re a history freak, too,” Marit pointed out.
“A human, hungry one.”
“This shepherd’s pie is wonderful,” Marit added.
“It seemed appropriate,” Sydney said, “under the circumstances.”
“Shepherds’ pie is Welsh?” Marit asked.
“Some say it is,” Sydney said.
“And some say the Welsh adopted it because it is not Millionbøf,” Taylor added from her place on the other side of the table.
A shadow touched Marit’s face. “Will Iraq really bomb Gronoya?” she asked. “They’re saying they will. They say they have to and if they do, then England has to side with Gronoya because they’ve got a treaty with them and they’re right next door to England, anyway, so the fallout will affect England as much as it does Gronoya. That will pull in Europe and that will bring America into it, too.”
Sydney looked at Veris and Brody, at the other end of the table, expecting them to answer. She could tell Marit the truth, but she didn’t know if they wanted Marit to hear the truth. She was only twelve years old, even though sometimes she seemed much older.
Finally, it was Rafe who answered Marit. “How much of Gronoya’s history do you know, Marit?”
Marit pressed her lips together. “Not much,” she admitted. “It�
�s as if they’re allergic to teaching kids about Gronoya. Like we’ll be infected or something if they do.”
“Were you there, Rafe?” Alex asked softly.
Rafe let out a breath and nodded. “In Powys itself when the Vikings of Ireland came marching across the land.”
“Poe-us?” Merit repeated, trying the word out.
“It was the most powerful kingdom in ancient Gronoya,” Rafe said. “Of course, it got wiped out along with all the other kingdoms when the Danes claimed the land for themselves. Then everyone there became a Welshman and a Briton, overnight.” He grimaced. “Everyone except the Danes.”
“They’re the Herskers now, right?” Marit said.
“Do you know what “hersker” means?” Taylor asked.
Marit wrinkled her nose. “Something ancient, I suppose.”
Veris shook his head. “Names are all ancient if you trace them back properly. It’s a corruption of the Danish word for leaders. Rulers. The ruling class.”
“Do I detect disapproval in your voice, Northman?” Alex asked.
“It’s the way it went, so how can I disapprove?” Veris asked reasonably.
“Very broad-minded of you,” Rafe said.
“He’s not broad-minded at all,” Brody said. “He’s got an opinion that he’s going to stick to no matter what. From the look on his face, he’s about to gift us with it in Technicolor.”
Veris sat back, his arm over the back of his chair. “It’s a closed room and I trust everyone in it, so why shouldn’t I speak?”
“Then you don’t like the Herskers, Far?” Marit asked. “Gronoya is an advanced nation and keeps Western Europe stable because its economy is so strong.”
“Did your teacher tell you that?” Brody asked curiously.
“That’s about all they say about Gronoya.”
“The only reason they have a stable economy is because they’re pulling natural gas and oil out of the mountains and the North Atlantic and holding the rest of the world to ransom with it,” Veris said.
“And there he goes,” Brody said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Veris,” Taylor said sharply, “Marit doesn’t need to hear this now. She already gets in enough trouble at school because you and Brody keep feeding her subversive ideas.”
“I won’t tell,” Marit said, her face alight with interest. “Sub rosa, right, Far?”
Taylor sighed.
Veris’ tension evaporated as he gave his daughter a fond smile. “Right,” he agreed. “So I’ll say this, then leave it alone for now.” He glared at everyone else. “What the history books tend to gloss over is that more than eighty percent of the people living in Gronoya are native Welsh, descendants of the Britons who were living there when the Vikings invaded. The Herskers, who are the Viking descendants, are a tiny minority of the population in Gronoya, yet they are the power holders and they’ve held that power by subjugating the Welsh. A Welshman can’t hold political office, so they can’t change anything from inside the country.”
“That’s why they fight all the time, then?” Marit asked.
“That’s why they fight and keep fighting,” Veris replied.
Marit nodded thoughtfully. “So will Iraq drop bombs on them, then?”
Sydney was glad she didn’t have to answer that. No one else did, either. Even Veris’ gaze skittered away from his daughter.
“That would be yes, then?” Marit asked, her voice clear in the silent room.
“Gronoya and the Middle East have been rivals for generations,” Alex said, at last. “They both have energy resources that the world relies on.”
“That’s why Gronoya bombed Iraq, to destroy the oil?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that….” Alex prevaricated.
“No, it’s not,” Veris said shortly. “The Herskers are descendants of a race that believed battle was the way to heaven. It was inevitable they would use force to get the Middle East to back off from Europe.”
Taylor looked at the tabletop, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Brody was watching his mate with brooding eyes.
“Aren’t you a Viking, Far?” Marit asked.
“No, honey. I never sailed with the warriors. That was four hundred years after I left Norway and I was already a doctor by then.”
“Good,” Marit said firmly and went back to her shepherds’ pie, her curiosity satisfied.
Yet the mood in the room had altered. Marit’s on-point questions about the coming war had reminded everyone about the global tensions, which Sydney had hoped this evening’s distractions might push aside at least for a few hours.
Then Alex gave a soft, wordless exclamation and raised the sheet in his hands. “This page is talking about King Arthur!”
Taylor smiled as she leaned closer to look at the sheet he was holding. “That’s the chapter that caused Oxford to bring me in as a consultant.” She glanced at Brody. “It talks about Arthur’s poet.”
“It says Domhnall?” Brody asked. He got to his feet and moved around to where Alex sat, to look over his shoulder.
“Not by name,” Taylor said. “Sorry, Brody.”
He shook his head. “I’ve got used to the idea that my father is never going to be heard of again. Although even a mention of a poet connected with Arthur is new, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Taylor agreed. “The whole chapter—”
“Chapter?” Rafe repeated. “It’s two pages long.”
“Section, then,” Taylor amended. “The whole story about Arthur and his people has never been seen before in any of the known copies of the History. That’s why everyone is so excited about this edition.”
“Doesn’t everyone think that Nennius was making most of it up, anyway?” Sydney asked her.
“He made it up from stories he’d already heard and that’s what the scholars use his book for—tracking down his sources. This story doesn’t exist in any of the copies made by the English monks and up until last week, it was believed that all the Welsh copies had been destroyed by the Herskers.”
“Why would they destroy them?” Marit asked, dropping her knife and fork onto her empty plate and burping softly.
“Because the book makes British people sound wonderful,” Sydney told her. She picked up the two plates. “Ice cream?”
“Yes, please!”
Sydney took the plates out to the kitchen, pulled out the ice cream from the freezer and scooped out a bowlful for Marit. She took the bowl to the dining room.
Everyone, including Marit, was on their feet and crowding around Alex, staring down at the two sheets sitting side by side on the table.
Sydney touched Marit’s shoulder and handed her the ice cream. Marit sat at the end of the table just around the corner from Alex to eat it.
“The writing looks the same to me,” Brody said.
“It’s almost the same,” Rafe said. “I saw enough of this script when I was living in England that it’s like modern handwriting to me—the difference between one hand and the next is night and day. This was written to look as though the monk—“
“Eifion,” Taylor supplied.
“Eifion,” Rafe repeated.
Sydney was startled, because he pronounced the name exactly the way Taylor had, accent and all. Yet the way he said it sounded natural, unlike Taylor.
“This chapter was made to look like Eifion was the writer, but I’m telling you, someone else wrote this,” Rafe added.
Alex, Brody and Veris were studying the pages and didn’t respond.
“Iveyon was Welsh, then?” Sydney asked.
“Eifion,” Taylor said softly, to avoid disturbing the cluster of men at the end of the table next to Marit. She spelled the name out.
“That doesn’t sound anything like the way you said it,” Sydney said. “Welsh is odd that way, isn’t it?”
“Actually, Welsh is very straight forward,” Taylor said. “Once you’ve learned how everything is supposed to be pronounced, there are no exceptions. Ever
y letter gets pronounced, so there’s no silent letters that you’re supposed to just know aren’t spoken. English, I’m told, is so hard to learn because there are so many exceptions and silent letters and assumptions that are common knowledge and not explained anywhere.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Sydney told her with a grimace. “I’m just barely holding onto Arabic from that one jump back, as it is.”
Taylor smiled. “The more you use it, the easier it is to retain. You and Alex don’t use it between you?”
“Sometimes. Did you learn Welsh from going back there, too?”
Taylor glanced at Veris, Brody and Rafe, where they were gathered around Alex. “Neither Veris nor Brody have ever been to Wales, so I picked it up the hard way, using a dictionary and a pronunciation guide. The problem is, Welsh isn’t spoken the same way English is. So Sydney in Welsh would be written Sudni.” Taylor spelled it out. “That is, if you wanted everyone to say it the same way.”
Sydney lowered her voice. “So you still haven’t tried to jump anywhere since you were made?”
Taylor’s eyes shadowed. “There’s been no need to try,” she said.
“Veris is still dead set against it, then?”
“At least until the twins are adults.” Taylor gave her a small smile. “I don’t even know if I can time jump anymore. It could be a human-only thing.”
That was an aspect of time jumping that Sydney had not considered. “It’s been, wow, six years since I met Rafe and Alex,” she said slowly. “We haven’t had the courage to try, either. Death and disaster seems to be the norm if you do jump back.” She shivered, remembering the fallout from the last time they had jumped. Taylor had lost her life and Veris and Brody had been forced to make her a vampire like them.
“We barely talk about it anymore,” Taylor said, her voice just above a whisper. She nodded toward Veris. “I don’t think he’s opened his notebooks on time travel for years.”
“It’s always something you could get back to, isn’t it?” Sydney said with a smile. “You have all of time ahead of you for whatever you want to try.”
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