“If Father will let us,” added Juliana, the taller and older of the two sisters at nineteen years of age. Martin’s sisters were both very beautiful.
“Lambert, can you ever forgive me?” asked Amelia.
“There is nothing to forgive,” said Lambert. “I knew you’d come home. I told Martin, but he didn’t believe me.”
“Mother. Father hasn’t been all that well,” explained Martin.
“That’s nonsense!” spat Lambert. “I’ve never felt better.” He pulled his ex-wife into his arms. “Amelia, can you forgive me for what happened to our son, Albert?”
“I know now you weren’t to blame.” Amelia dabbed her sleeve against the tear dripping down her cheek. “I want to start a new life with you. Will you have me back as your wife?”
“You never stopped being my wife as far as I’m concerned,” said Lambert.
A bell dinged from the corner of the room and everyone stepped aside as Martin hurried across the room to his clock that was sitting on the floor in the corner.
“It is midnight,” he said excitedly. “And the clock is still working. It is no longer broken.”
Every cheered, seeing how happy that made Martin.
“It’s all because of you, Winter,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “You fixed things in this family that had been broken for a very long time.”
“I fixed the clock pieces in the forge, but I can’t say I fixed anything in your family, although I am grateful for the credit,” she replied.
“Don’t you see what a good omen this is?” asked Martin, staring at the clock in total fascination. “Time stood still while my sisters and mother were gone, and now it has picked up right where it left off so many years ago.”
“Martin? Who is this lovely woman?” asked Amelia, holding Lambert’s arm and smiling at Winter.
“This is my wife, Mother,” Martin told her. “Her name is Lady Winter. She is pregnant and we will have a child, soon.”
“Oh, I am so happy!” Lady Amelia rushed over to hug them both. “Where did you meet such a fine lady, Martin? Was it through another nobleman, perhaps?”
“Nay, Mother,” said Martin, pulling Winter up against him and kissing her. “I met my wife in a forge.”
“A forge?” His mother wiped away another tear and started laughing. “Oh, Martin, you always could make me laugh.”
“Nay, it is the truth,” said Winter. “I love to forge blades in the smithy. I have been fascinated by it my entire life.”
“She forges the most exquisite swords,” said Martin. “Ever since the moment I met her, my heart warmed. I knew she was someone special. There is no one I know that can compare to her in this entire world.”
“You must really love her, Son,” said his mother. “Through the years, I have never heard you say that about any of your old flames.”
“That’s because I didn’t know what love was until now,” said Martin. “That is . . . until I experienced Winter’s Flame.”
From the Author:
I hope you enjoyed Winter’s Flame, the last book of the Seasons of Fortitude Series. If so, I would love for you to leave a review for me.
If you have read any of my other books, you might know by now that I love to push the envelope with some of my characters. Winter, being able to forge a sword, was not the norm for medieval women. Women of that time period were treated horribly and did not have much of a say about anything. But I like my heroines to be strong and spunky, so you will see my heroines sometimes carrying a lot of modern-day traits.
I loved researching sword making, and like Highland Spring where my character makes bows and arrows, I found myself so fascinated that it made me want to try making a sword – or bows and arrows, myself.
Through my research, I found the history of clock making very important. Oftentimes, in the middle ages they would use candles and know the time by how far the candle burned down. The monks and monasteries always seemed to have the most advanced technology, whether it be clocks or even spectacles that were really around during those times, but just starting to be seen in certain countries. Time brings forth with it new conveniences and inventions that helped people and the way they lived eventually evolve to what it is today.
If you have missed any of the books of series, or the books about Winter’s brothers, Rowen, Rook and Reed, you can find the links here:
The books in the Legendary Bastards of the Crown series are:
Destiny’s Kiss – Series Prequel
Restless Sea Lord – Book 1
Ruthless Knight – Book 2
Reckless Highlander – Book 3
This is followed by the Seasons of Fortitude Series:
Highland Spring – Book 1
Summer’s Reign – Book 2
Autumn’s Touch – Book 3
Winter’s Flame – Book 4
Near the end of the story, you meet a character named Ian MacKeefe. He is from Lady Renegade – Book 2 of my Legacy of the Blade Series. You’ll see some of these Scots show up as secondary characters in my MadMan MacKeefe Series as well. And if you’d like to know about Rowen’s first mate, Brody, as well as find out more about Nairnie’s long-lost son, Cato, be sure to read Pirate in the Mist: Brody – Book 1 of my Second in Command Series. This series is new and about secondary characters from any of my series, no matter what genre.
The Legacy of the Blade Series:
Prequel
Lord of the Blade
Lady Renegade
Lord of Illusion
Lady of the Mist
Daughters of the Dagger Series:
Prequel
Ruby – Book 1
Sapphire – Book 2
Amber – Book 3
Amethyst – Book 4
MadMan MacKeefe Series:
Onyx – Book 1,
Aidan – Book 2
Ian – Book 3.
Starting after the first of the year, I’ll be finishing off my Tangled Tales fairy tale series. Here is a list of the books already available and the ones that are scheduled for release in 2018.
Tangled Tales Series:
Lady and the Wolf (Red Riding Hood) – Book 1
Just a Kiss (Frog Prince) – Book 2
Beast Lord (Beauty and the Beast) – Book 3
Touch of Gold (Rumpelstiltskin) – Book 4
Lady in the Tower (Rapunzel) – Book 5 (Preorder now!)
A Perfect Fit (Cinderella) – Book 6
Heart of Ice (Snow Queen) – Book 7
Please be sure to sign up for my newsletter so you don’t miss out on any new releases, sales, or special announcements. I also have a blog on my website. You can read excerpts of any of my books on my site. I have been recently putting my books into audiobook format. Stop by my site and check out my audiobook library. You can also follow me on facebook and twitter.
There are other authors with the same name, but you can always tell my books because of the rose by my name on the covers.
Thank you for following me on this wonderful journey. If you like to drop me a note, you can do so at [email protected].
Elizabeth Rose
Excerpt from Lady and the Wolf (Red Riding Hood)
Book 1 – Tangled Tales Series
Winifred approached the knoll where she’d seen her grandfather’s guard disappear on more than one occasion. She was about to dismount and take a look around when the growling sound of an angry animal spooked her horse once again. She had thought she’d scared off whatever lurked in the woods, but it seemed to be following her. The horse reared up and threw her to ground along with her crossbow and the basket of food. She jumped to her feet, but got tangled in her grandfather’s long cloak and lost her balance. Before she could grab the reins, the horse darted away and disappeared into the night.
Two yellow eyes glowed from the bushes. Out came a brown wolf with its head low and the fur at the scruff of its neck furrowed. She hurried to her feet, her fingers quickly securing a bolt from her p
ouch. She grabbed her crossbow and pulled back the windlass, loading the bolt. The wolf lunged at her! She raised her weapon and released the bolt. At the same time, a hand shot out from nowhere, pushing her to the side.
The bolt missed its mark. A man stepped in front of her quickly as the wolf barreled into his chest. “Down. Don’t,” he commanded in a low voice. Then he made eye contact with the animal for a mere second before the wolf turned and ran back into the thicket.
Winifred was so surprised and shaken that she couldn’t find the words to speak. The man turned and looked at her. In the moonlight, she recognized his face as the man she’d helped set free from her grandfather’s dungeon a year ago. Her heart beat faster. This was no other than Lord Hugh de Bar - the Wolf!
His dark, silver-gray eyes interlocked with hers. His hand reached out and grabbed her crossbow. By the power of his grip, there was nothing she could do to stop him.
His tall, solid body hovered over her and his black hair glowed with a vibrant blue sheen in the light of the moon. The last time she’d seen him in the dungeon, he was broken, bruised, and bleeding and didn’t look half as threatening as he did right now.
Now, he looked dangerous but, at the same time, incredibly handsome. His dark eyes interlocked with hers. With the intensity of his gaze, she felt as if he were looking into her very soul.
“What are you doing here?” he growled, sounding similar to the growl of the wolf he’d just scared off.
“I’m Lady Winifred of –”
“I know who you are. That is not what I asked.”
“You – know me?” She lowered her head wondering if he also knew she was the one that helped him escape from the dungeon. If so, he didn’t sound very grateful. She didn’t want others or her grandfather to find out what she’d done, or she’d be punished severely. She’d worn a hooded cloak that night, hiding her identity when she set him and the wolf free from the dungeon.
“How do you know me?” She daringly raised her chin, waiting for his response.
“You are the one killing off the wolves,” he said, holding her crossbow high in the air to make his point.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only hunt for food, or use my crossbow when I’m in danger.”
“You’re working for your grandfather, aren’t you? He told you to kill off any wolf you see, didn’t he? Don’t lie, because I know it’s the truth.”
He was right, but she wouldn’t admit it. Her grandfather had been the one to insist she come hunting with his men, telling her the woods needed to be cleansed of pesky wolves. She had killed a few wolves in the past year, but only so her grandfather would keep allowing her to leave the castle and go with the hunting party. She felt as if she’d burst if she didn’t get away. Plus, she wanted to come to the woods more than ever now to learn her grandfather’s secrets.
“Give me my crossbow,” she said, grabbing for it. But he held it high over his head and far out of her reach.
“You are an addlepated young girl without a bit of sense in your head to come into the woods alone at night.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” She reached for her crossbow again. But, this time, his other hand shot out and grabbed her wrist to stop her. His eyes interlocked with hers in a dangerous stare. In the moonlight, she couldn’t help but notice the hunger within them. He looked as if he wanted to eat her. This time, she was scared.
He bent toward her. At the same time, he dropped her bow to the ground, using both hands to pull her up against his chest. His face came closer and, once again, a warning sprang from his lips.
“You foolish, foolish girl. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Then, before she could respond, his lips were upon hers and his kiss was foreboding. It was nothing like the kiss she’d shared with the castle guard to keep her secret. This man’s kiss was powerful and strong. It was dangerous and filled with lust. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly and she couldn’t move if she tried. She was afraid if she fought him, he’d snap her thin bones in his large hands like breaking kindling for a fire.
She was frightened, cautious, and, at the same time, oddly excited. Winifred was an adventurous soul and anything off-limits always seemed to intrigue and excite her. Kissing a dangerous man in the dark forest without an escort present was certainly something she shouldn’t be doing. This man who was referred to as Wolf was touching her. And they were all alone. His kiss sent a tingle spiraling through her body. She didn’t understand her reaction, nor had she felt this way ever before in her life. She was wondering just what to do when he suddenly pulled away.
“Damn,” he spat. “Don’t you see how easy it would be for me to take you right now?”
“Stay away from me,” she said with a tremble in her voice. Stepping backward, she now realized just how foolish she’d been to come here all alone and at night. With no horse and her weapon on the ground, she had no way of fleeing or fighting back if he should decide to do just what he suggested. Or worse yet, he could snap her neck and leave her for the wolves to eat, and no one would ever know what happened.
Her eyes shot over to her crossbow on the ground. She tried to dive for it with her arms outstretched, but his hand came down on her arm again like the grip of death.
Excerpt from Lady Renegade
(Book 2, Legacy of the Blade Series)
Wren placed her owl on her shoulder, and made her way to the door. As it squeaked open, it once again revealed sunlight and freedom, before closing and leaving Storm in darkness and despair.
Hurriedly, he worked on his escape hoping to be out of the shackles before she returned. He had been in many threatening situations before, but always managed to escape. In fact, he prided himself on being the best escape artist in all of Scotland, mayhap England as well.
Stretching, his fingers managed to reach and untie the leather laces that bound his boots around his legs. Squirming his feet around inside his boots, he quickly managed to slide one foot upward and then the other, until his bare feet were free and rested upon the pine needles. He chuckled as he eyed his limp boots which were still shackled together.
“Willna Morganna be surprised to see this?” he spoke to himself as he twisted around in the chair, bringing his toes up to help loosen the ropes that bound his body. With a few more tricky twists, and with the help of his shackled hands and strong teeth, he managed to free himself. The ropes dropped to the ground and he breathed a sigh of relief. Quickly, he rose to try to get the feeling back in his legs before attempting to walk or free himself of the shackles still encircling his wrists.
The light of day caught his attention once more, as Wren pushed open the door and entered the room. Storm hurriedly sat back down pretending he was still tied up, trying to decide what to do next.
“I brought you a candle,” Wren said as she placed it on the table in the center of the room, and placed her owl on a wooden perch nearby that Storm hadn’t even noticed. She still hadn’t looked directly at him, but he knew if she did, she would now see his escapades, as the flickering candlelight well-lit the underground room.
She pulled a pouch from under her arm, and poured what smelled like whisky into a wooden goblet she retrieved off the shelf.
She turned abruptly toward Storm and marched directly for him. Holding out the goblet, she offered him the drink.
He sat motionless for a minute, not sure why she hadn’t even acknowledged the fact he was sitting on the chair untied, barefoot, and working on removing his shackles.
“Me many thanks,” he carefully chose his words, letting both his hands grab the goblet while he surveyed her face. There was something strange about the whole situation. She never really looked straight at him, and hardly ever blinked. Of course, it was still a bit dark in there, and he could be mistaken, but only a blind person could not notice what he had done.
“You asked for it, now drink it,” she commanded. Without waiting, she quickly turned away and walked over to pet the owl which had fluttered s
ilently to the table and was now eyeing him suspiciously.
“Ye dinna haveta tell a Scotsman to drink.” He held the goblet to his lips and gulped it down greedily.
Wren half-turned her head waiting for a cough or a gag from the potent hell-fire she had just served her prisoner. She had used this trick many times on guards before she attacked the English camps. The potency of the liquor alone had made many a drinking man fall into an unconscious state for several days at a time.
“Blazin’ fires o’ hell!” cried Storm through a raspy voice.
Wren smiled knowingly, expecting to hear at any moment the goblet falling to the ground as he passed out.
“I havena tasted whisky like that in a long time.”
Wren’s eyebrows dipped as she turned away from the owl and curiously headed in Storm’s direction.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Losh me! What a grand uisque baugh. Aye, this whisky is truly the water of life.”
“Have another sip,” Wren coaxed, guessing he hadn’t yet had enough to affect him.
“I canna.”
“Why?”
“Becooz me cup is empty.”
“Empty?” gasped Wren. “And you’re still conscious?”
“Me grandda used to make a mountain magic that tasted jest like this,” he exclaimed excitedly. “I used to drink it since I were but a bairn, barely able to walk. When me grandda disappeared, I was sure his secret brew died with him. Tell me, where did ye get it?”
“Never mind that.” Wren quickly made her way toward the bladder of whisky lying on the table. “Mayhap you should have some more.” She walked back to his chair and held it out for him to take. When he neither answered nor grabbed for the bladder, her arm lowered to her side and she cocked her head like a bird of prey listening for its victim.
Suddenly, from behind her, Storm brought his shackled wrists over her head, clasping her arms tightly to her sides so she couldn’t move. The bladder of whisky slipped from her hand into the pine boughs at her feet.
Winter's Flame (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 4) Page 23