by Jill Barnett
You are more valuable to me than all the diamonds in the world, my love.
Edward
The ring was platinum, set with a large pale, pale blue stone, a multiple karat blue diamond at the center, surrounded by smaller cut diamonds. She slid it on her finger. "It's beautiful, Edward. I don't know what to say. "Thank you."
He laughed. "Just say 'I do' when the time comes. Soon."
"Soon."
"Tomorrow," he said.
"It's Christmas. Who would marry us? I want my family there."
"Okay. Two days." He laughed.
"New Year's Eve,' she said firmly, and she melted into his arms, into him, on that night when they became man and wife, when he possessed her completely, body, heart and soul. And she understood that peacefulness, that calm that had swept over her, that dream come true, and that she would never be alone again.
Epilogue
Four years later, the Lowell house was bustling and noisy and perfect, as Penny played the piano in the wrong notes, with Pirate curled in her lap, as little Josie crawled across the carpet. Miss Clement was nurse to all the children in the house, even little Harry, who was two months old and upstairs sleep in his bassinet.
Edward had built some of the tallest buildings in the city and Lowell & Green was still building. Aunt Martha returned to her native England often, but came over twice year. Ed had mastered activating yeast and the extra rise time, the unwritten secret to Aunt Martha's Cinnamon Buns. Idalie had quit her job. She made dolls for Hummingbird--the line had six dolls now, though the Josephine doll was still the bestseller, followed closely by My Lucky Penny, a beautiful doll with coppery red hair and a lucky penny in her pocket.
But Idalie had another project, something as dear to her heart as her family. That little clapboard house on Barrow Street was still there, still squeezed between two large apartment buildings. But it was not a quiet, narrow home for a lonely woman; it was much more well known, especially by the little girls of the city, the their mothers, because it was an original, the first of its kind, the Josephine Everdeane Doll Hospital.
The Sisters of Scotland
At a time when kings fought for the right to rule, some won, some lost, and the women who loved them paid the price….
Book One - MY SOMETHING WONDERFUL
He took her from all she had ever known, asked her to trust him when she most needed someone to trust, and she followed with her heart, unaware he carried a dark secret that could tear them apart.
My Something Wonderful - Available now
Book 2 - Spring 2018
Book 3 - Early 2019
READ AN EXCERPT OF GLENNA’S STORY
My Something Wonderful
Chapter One
The Western Isles
Under the rare glare of an extremely warm sun, Glenna Gordon ran across the moors toward the brutal cliffs of the coast, her wild black hair as free as the seabirds calling and wheeling in the cloudless blue sky beyond. A great brown beastie of a dog the size of a pony loped by her side, leaving only to romp and bark at the queeping plovers flushed out from the heath. Even in summer, such overly hot weather was rare; its warmth and intensity had burned away whatever morning dew spotted the wild pansies on the heath, and the barbaric heat of previous two days had turned clusters of weeds dry enough to crack beneath her feet.
During this time of year, only a few hours of darkness befell the island and the night before had been short, the air still as stone, and warm. The promise of another eternal summer day, one of scorched air and sweaty skin, sent her to one of the island’s few beach coves.
Standing near the rocks below the cliffs, the air was cool. Land ended here. The great wide sea began and went on and outward to the very edges of the world. Clusters of black and white puffins bobbed on the water beyond the surf, and seals lay in brown lumps upon the coastal rocks, barking and squalling at nothing but the air and sea.
Her dog raced ahead of her, through the shallow water, so she pulled off her wooden shoes, tossed them on a rock, and chased after him along the golden crescent of damp sand, where blue-green saltwater foamed and the tide pulled at her bare ankles.
“Fergus! Fetch!” Glenna called to the hound and walking out toward deeper water, she threw a rope of knobby kelp. He barked and dove at it, his head popping up out of the water, kelp rope between his teeth. He looked as if he were grinning at her. She laughed at him before a wave knocked her under and she came up spitting saltwater and searching for her footing.
A piece of bleached wood drifted past on swell. She tossed it high in the air for him. The two of them played with the stick for a long time, stopping to paddle together in the calmer sea between waves, until they both were soaked and cool and breathing hard. She trudged through the water toward the shore with the tide pulling at her clothes, before stopping in the sand to pull up her tunic and tighten the wet rope drawstring on her sodden peasant trouse.
On the northern edge of the cove, the huge granite rocks were warm from the bright sunshine, and she climbed atop a flat one without a seal stretched out on it, and laid back, hand over her eyes. A nearby seal barked, but didn’t deign to move when Fergus jumped up next to her, circling twice before he hunkered down for a nap, shaggy wet chin resting on his enormous paws. Soon she drifted off.
What woke her she could not say, but Fergus’ head shot up with her and he gave a low growl. A horse and rider came around the far southern end the cove, where there was a small, less rocky trail from the far cliffs down to the sea.
“Come, Fergus! Quickly! Down!” Glenna rolled over and went down behind the rock, climbing back and around so she was hidden between the seals.
Who was this man?
She and her brothers lived on the western edges of the island, far, far from the only village on the east side. Even the Norse on the northernmost tip stayed clear, so beaten and gaunt was the terrain here. There was no value to the land or what little grew on it, so they lived in complete isolation, which her brothers claimed was what their battle-weary father had wanted, to be hidden at the end of land where no one would call him to war or had a reason to come within even a day’s ride.
To her chagrin, her belt with its knife lay next to her bed in the cottage. A fool’s mistake to leave her weapon behind. Slowly she eased up between a group seals to keep her eye on the stranger, then quickly shoved Fergus’ head down when he decided to follow her lead.
“Stay down,” she whispered to him, and he whimpered and put his snout on his paws, clearly unhappy with her.
As the man rode closer and along the edge of the water, she could easily see his rank as a noble warrior dressed for protection in a padded jack gambeson of leather and mail covered his legs. He rode with no troop of men, and she glanced up at the cliffs to see if there were others above, but there was no one. She looked back at him as he drew closer. A shield emblazoned with a rampant golden lion on an azure field hung down from his pommel and soon the sun caught the glint of his sword and she spotted several large stones the size of crabapples inlaid along the scabbard strapped to his hips. His wealth was evident; his horse was one of the finest animals she had ever seen, head high, perfect arch of the neck, black mane and tail flowing. And she watched, somewhat lost in the beauty of the two them; the horse and man cut an exquisitely handsome figure through the wet sand, sea spraying up behind them and turning into rainbows in the glare of bright sunshine.
He dismounted, tossing the reins over his saddle and stood at the edge of the water, only a couple of rods away, looking out to the sea, his hands resting on his narrow hips, and she wondered what he was thinking and why he was in this singular and lonely place. Within moments he had unbuckled his sword and tossed it in the sand, pulled off his boots, jack, mail and linen, until he stood there beautifully and quite wondrously naked, a golden image walking into the water, almost like some Norse idol come to life; the man was pure gold from the thick head of hair ending at his wide shoulders to every inch of skin she could see. For
just the barest of moments, the sun caught and glinted off a gold cross he wore on a chain around his neck and she smiled—perhaps he was her gift from God.
He dove under a wave that would have taken her down, his head coming up behind the swell like one of the seals and he swam across the water, riding in on the waves and swimming back out again, his arms making powerful strokes that seemed to cut easily through the pull of the sea.
Glenna eyed the horse, then the man, who was swimming even further out to the larger swells beyond. She leaned against the rock with one hand as she slipped on her wooden shoes one at a time. “Bare-assed fool,” she muttered. “To go frolicking in the sea while that fine, fine animal stands there…sorely abandoned.” She sighed as did someone who had little choice in what they were about to do and made her way over to the lovely horse, Fergus trailing behind her as she began to speak to the black in a low and melodic voice.
The animal’s ears went up and twitched, but she easily took the reins, stroking his head. “There…there, my sweet and lovely thing.” She began to hum softly and saw trust soften his eyes.
She slowly led the horse in a half-circle so the beast stood in front of the man’s clothes, hiding her from the his view, before she pulled the lion shield from the saddle; it dropped heavily into the sand, then she lifted the solid sword and its scabbard from the sand using both hands, and with a grunt hooked it over the pommel, quickly flinging his lighter clothing, leather gambeson, and lastly his weighty mail onto the horse.
“God’s blood! You, there! Stand back from that horse! “ Sir Golden Himself was swiftly swimming back toward shore.
‘Twas a shame, really, about the golden cross. She was certain it would fetch a good bit of coin.
“Get away, I say! That horse will trample you before he will let you touch him! Back away, you!” A wave washed over him and he came up from behind it, standing in the water, his wet skin gleaming jewel-like in the bright sunshine, his hair slicked back and his face red and angry and determined as he strode waist-deep through the strong pull of the tide.
Poor fool, she thought. He was not moving quite swiftly enough. She gripped the horse, her foot in the stirrup, and mounted, leaning over to stroke the black’s arched neck. “You won’t hurt me, sweet laddie. Will you?” Reins in her hands, she looked back at the man, so huge and trying to power his way to shore through seawater, ebb tide, and the next waves.
“What are you doing?” He bellowed so loudly his voice echoed in the cliff caverns and birds flew from nests in the high rocks up into the sky.
Glenna expertly wheeled the horse around. “Me, good sir? Why, I’m stealing your lovely sword-- nice jewels—“ she patted the scabbard meaningfully, “also your clothes,” she added, as the black sidestepped in the sea foam that curled on the sand and around his hooves. “Fret not, I say, for I will leave you your most precious jewels,” she said pointedly. “And your shield to protect them.”
“Get off that horse!”
“This horse? I think not. But I thank you for him!” She gave the poor man a final wave and took off down the beach on that powerful black beast with his hooves pounding in the hard wet sand, riding like the wind away from the golden fool, Fergus loping along behind, and her sweet, wicked laughter echoing back in the warm air.
Buy links:
My Something Wonderful
Praise for Jill Barnett
"A ray of summer sunshine...." Publishers Weekly—STARRED REVIEW
"Barnett has a wicked way with a one-liner and she makes the romance sizzle." Detroit Free Press
"A charming romance from the Queen of Love and Laughter." Romantic Times
“One of the best books of the year!” Dallas Morning News
"Powerfully poignant and memorable.... An unprecedented six stars!" Affaire de Coeur
About the Author
Jill Barnett is an emerging author of political romance. This is Jill’s second book.
To learn more about Jill Barnett’s latest books please visit these sites:
www.jillbarnettbooks.com
Also by Jill Barnett
THE SISTERS OF SCOTLAND
My Something Wonderful
Caitrin’s story (Spring 2018)
Innes’ story (Early 2019)
MEDIEVAL WEDDING TRILOGY
Wonderful
Wild
Wicked
REGENCY MAGIC DUET
Bewitching
Dreaming
MORE HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Imagine
Carried Away
Just A Kiss Away
The Heart’s Haven
FOOL ME ONCE SERIES
A Knight in Tarnished Armor (Book 1)
Fall From Grace (Book 2)
Fool Me Once Anthology 1
Marry In Haste (Book 3 2018)
CHRISTMAS IN THE CITY SERIES
Daniel and the Angel and the Angel (Book 1)
Eleanor’s Hero’s (Book 2)
My Lucky Penny (Book 3 Christmas 2017)
WWII HISTORICAL FICTION
Sentimental Journey
CONTEMPORARY
The Days of Summer
Bridge To Happiness