Rogue's Angels Present: Highland Honor

Willfully stubborn, innocently courageous, Callie Whitcomb braves a journey through the treacherous highlands to the Macpherson castle. Callie flees from an unwanted marriage as well as her ruthless half brother. 

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EXCERPT: Highland Honor

Scotland November 1512:

A heavy frost sat on the frozen earth, and a full moon shone clearly between the heavy clouds dotting the sky. Lady Callie Whitcomb looked over her shoulder as she raced through the deepening gloom toward the lighted tavern ahead. Every shadow, every mournful sigh of the wind sweeping through the trees, every chilling animal sound filled her with terror. Fear for her life drove her to put all thoughts of danger aside. He would follow her, find her, and drag her home.

Home.

"Don't think of that now," she reminded herself fiercely, even while tears stung in the back of her throat and fear made her limbs tremble. "Don't ye dare think of home. It no longer exists." Nothing and no one could coax her back or make her believe there was naught but terror in the home where she'd been born.

"I will never marry Lord Huntington. Never!" she whispered fiercely, the chill night air solemnly echoing her words.

Her stepbrother, Archibald Covington III, made sure she could never return.

"There ye be, lass! I've been waiting for you."

The voice rose from nowhere and surprised her. Her heart froze, lurched, then began an erratic beat, while raw nerves snapped, sending a myriad of sensations racing down her spine.

"Archibald--" she whispered, panic sweeping through her. "He's found me." All she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears.

Before she could reach her destination, before she could find safe refuge from him, his men had found her. No! Not now. Not when she thought she had eluded them all.

A wave of fear sweeping through her reminded her, that if caught, she would be taken back to Archibald and forced to marry Lord Huntington.

"I'll help you down, lass."

"No."

Before she could react and spur her horse forward, callous, rough hands centered on her waist then pulled her from her mount.

"No!" She cried out to no avail. Regaining her wits, she beat fiercely upon the man's broad chest, tearing at his face and his thick beard with her fingers.

"Ach, lass! Hold still! I mean ye no harm. Stop this--" His voice was gruff and impatient.

Fear for her life had spurred her haste. Terror she might see Huntington or Archibald with each turn of the road haunted every hour of her journey. Archibald had retainers everywhere. Messages would have been sent. A highlander could be bought.

"Ruffian! Unhand me! Ye barbarous Scotsman."

If Archibald had guessed what path she followed...

"Verra well, ne'er let it be said that I dinna do a lass' bidding." Just as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, his hold upon her vanished. She stumbled backward.

Instantly, she found herself sitting on the frozen earth. The man towering above her watched her with concerned dark eyes. Despite the scar stretching from forehead to chin, his mouth quirked upward in a humorous slant.

"Ye be a handful, lass."

Mary of A Romance Review says, "Overall I liked the story and can recommend it as a worthwhile read. The author has a lot of talent and the plot and tension of the story are well handled."

ALSO BY CHRISTINE YOUNG

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HURTLED THROUGH TIME, Sean Michael Sterling, landed in the midst of a May Day celebration he didn’t understand, assuming the role of Laird Sterling.

ILLIGITAMATE CHILD OF NOBILITY, Reagan Douglas searches for a way out of her half brother’s house.

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REVIEW: Highland Sunrise

Highland Sunrise by Christine Young
Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
Genre: Historical
Length: Full Length (174 pgs)
Heat Level: Spicy
Rated: 4 Stars
Reviewed by Dandelion

I loved the rapport between the two main characters. Although at times they both struggled to find the right words to explain their feelings for each other, somehow they managed. They both loved the other and so over time it became easier. Both were also very independent and that caused a little friction between them. However, Ryder would typically just shake his head and go with the flow. There were a huge number of sex scenes, and I think this story would have stood alone quite well without so many (there were times they did nothing to forward the plot, but seemed added just to have a sex scene), but they didn’t detract from the plot either.

There were so many other fascinating and fun characters in the story: her sister, her cousins, their husbands, her aunt, the Duchess. Reading about all the things they attempted and succeeded in doing was really fun. They were not the typical regency “tonnish” people of the days. This made this story much more fun.

And of course, although there was a lot of fighting, terror, murder and mayhem, the story has a very satisfying ending.

He Made Her An Offer...

Life has thrown Christel McClellan some experiences that could have devastated a less determined woman. Beautiful, self-assured and fiercely independent, she is trying to forget the loss of her stillborn child. But is the child alie?

She Couldn’t Deny...

Life is carefree for Ryder MacLaren who loves to see what is on the other side of the sunrise. Laird of Clan MacLaren, he is wealthy, handsome and happily unencumbered...until stunning Christel McClellan enters his life. When he hears her story, he believes the child she thought dead has been sold to a wealthy buyer.

EDITING BY ANGELS

Editing by Angels

Rogue’s Angels would like to help make the publishing process a little bit easier. We offer editing, proofreading, and covers at a reasonable price. 

Rogues Angels have years of editing experience, starting in the 90’s. Please check out resumes at the Rogue’s Angels blog: http://roguesangels.blogspot.com

Editing plus proofreading rates are:

$150 for under 50K words

$250 for 50K to 100K words

$350 for over 100K words.

Covers price varies. Once a cover is used it will not be used again. Check out pre-made covers at:

http://www.designsbymsg.com/SpreeSpecials.html and http://www.designsbymsg.com/FastTrackForSale.html

For more information contact Christine Young ~ achristay@aol.com

RECENT COVERS:

A new attitude.

Really, I have a new attitude. I've done something many thought wouldn't happen again. I've given myself a new look, and with it comes a new attitude. I have a wonderful new, permanent job with people I like, and the knowledge my tough times will be getting better.

I'm finding new enthusiasm for my writing and other pursuits I enjoy. Why don't you find a new attitude and ignore the village idiots? Life really is too short. 

Sable Angel

Sixteen and counting.

How ironic. December will be the 16th time I've been published.

I clearly remember the first book I worked on and the terror of trying to put 50,000 words into story form. Now, I have to rein myself in so I don't hit the 200,000 word mark.

My husband and I were talking on the way home from work about the difference practice and patience played when I was learning to ride my motorcycle. I would ride my small Honda 650 to my job about twenty miles away and, literally, plan every foot of the ride in my head as I drove. Five years of riding and making mistakes as well as experiencing triumphs have given me the confidence to ride my Harley and be able to enjoy the trip and scenery along the way.

So it is with writing. The first book or two are lessons in writing. How to set up a scene; how to create tension or mystery; how to build your characters into beings your readers identify with and root for. [How not to end a sentence with a preposition. As you can see, I still have some learning to do.]

I hope my work has improved with each book and I have readers who enjoy my tales. I think I've found my calling.

Sable Angel

Rogue's Angels Present: North of the Azores by Ruth Danes

In North of the Azores: A young princess is forced to choose a new life in an unfamiliar world where she finds adventure, friendship and love.

Ruth will giveaway a digital copy of her book North of the Azores.

Buy at: Amazon, Barnes and Noble

EXCERPT: North of the Azores

I slept well and when I awoke I felt very weak but no longer ill. The doctor was present when I opened my eyes. He examined me, asked me some questions and gave me something to drink. Mr Lastman knocked and entered the room. Both men sat in front of me.

“Well, young lady, you are one of the lucky few who will be able to say you wore red lace and rubies and survived but we will have the truth now, if you please. Who are you?”

I looked at their solemn faces. There was no way I could lie anymore. I ran my tongue over my teeth to moisten my terror-dried mouth.

“My name is Nebula, I am a low princess from the Devil’s Isles and I am the last of the House of Beaumarch. I was given that name when the High Queen called me to her court when I was seven years old. I was born Adeliza and I turned thirteen in May.

“Every Islander knew about the plot to blow everything up on the night before the treaty was signed. I didn’t want to take part so I swam to the Mermaid and told all. I dressed as a boy, a boy from the streets of Arx, because I heard women are not well treated on ships and I needed to be disguised before I left land. I also recognised some of the men and knew they might have recognised me if I was dressed as a low princess.”

There was silence. I hung my head, my stomach churning and my palms sweating.

At last the doctor spoke. His voice was like granite.

“When you inhabited the Devil’s Isles, you and your ilk were responsible for the death and torture of many good, honest men and indeed, many good, honest women too. We all know the female royalty of that accursed race openly controlled everything that took place in that godforsaken land.

“As Gowther, you did indeed save many lives but your real motive was to save yourself, was it not? You could kill but you never had the courage to endure what you have inflicted on others. You also made an attempt to seriously injure Mr Lastman, and no, I do not want to hear it. You have repeated yourself many times stating you only wanted to escape and never meant to do any harm but you cannot be so stupid as to realise a face full of boiling soup is excruciatingly painful at best and deadly at worst. Besides, you should never have tried to escape in the first place. We all trusted you not to and you broke our trust.

“Finally, you wandered about the Mermaid when you knew you were ill, aye, maybe you did not know quite what ailed you, but you must have felt very ill for a good few hours before we saw your rash. The rash is never the first symptom of red lace and rubies. You knowingly spread that sickness and in doing so, you defied your captain, whose word is law on this ship, for a second time. It is impossible to know for sure but you can never clearly square the question with your conscience of would more men have been spared if you had obeyed your captain and reported your sickness immediately. Or was that part of your plan? A last attempt at causing mayhem and taking a few souls before being dispatched to Bristol and then to hell?”

Here he paused. I did not dare speak, I could only shake my head, trying desperately not to give way to the tears and the hysteria which were rising inside me.

The doctor resumed speaking in the same cold, hard voice.

“The orders that we received at Westmarnoch are clear. As soon as we dock at Bristol, you are to be handed over to the commissioners there, after which you are to be kept safe until you are hanged with as much pomp as possible in the heart of the city. We have docked at Bristol, with just over half of the men that set sail from here two years ago, and we will be released from quarantine tomorrow.

“Look at me, Adeliza.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze. His eyes were unforgiving but his voice had softened somewhat.

“That will not be your fate if you obey Mr Lastman and me.”

My heart seemed to stop and my face expressed the astonishment that my tongue could not. I scarcely dared believe my ears.

“Neither of us agree that anyone should be executed for who they are as opposed to what they have done. You have indeed committed many crimes but none that should be punished by death.

“Neither of us trust you, nor do we like you, but we are willing to save you.

“As you already know I am a doctor and a magistrate in a large village, a few days ride from Bristol, called Swanford. I am a bachelor but also a very busy man. On my return, I will take on two apprentice physicians and I will need a maid to help the man and woman who have been my servants for more than twenty years.

“If you swear to obey both Mr Lastman and me on anything and everything, I will take you back to Swanford with me to join my household as that maid. I will treat you as I have always treated my servants, with kindness but also with firmness. You will receive board and lodging along with anything else absolutely necessary until you are at least seventeen, at which point I may consider paying you wages. My word will be law and you will obey the upper servants, Mr and Mrs Dottey, as you will obey me. You will treat the apprentices with every respect and courtesy, as indeed you will treat everyone else with whom you come into contact.

“You will only ever speak, read and write English. You will make no attempt to escape your new life nor will you ever speak of your past life. We will think of some story and stick with it.

“You will stay within my household until you turn one-and-twenty. After this point you are free to leave my service if I believe you to be harmless. If you give any reason to cause either of us any worry, you will regret it. Neither of us are disposed to be merciful twice and you might remember the order for your execution stands until you die.”

I fell to my knees in gratitude and disbelief.

“Sir, I don’t know what to say… Thank you, thank you very, very much. I will be your maid and I will do whatever you say.”

The doctor nodded, satisfied but not softened. Mr Lastman snorted.

“I’ll believe you if you keep your word for the next eight years. Here.” He handed me a comb. “You might as well tackle the knots in your hair before you start your new life.”

I thanked him inarticulately but from the depths of my heart for his kindness as I took the comb but his coldness soon stopped my tongue. With a heavy heart, I realised nothing I could then say or do would change either man’s opinion of me and it was on their opinion of me and my behaviour my life rested.

Author Bio

Ruth Danes has enjoyed history and fiction since childhood and has travelled widely within three continents. These interests and experiences were the inspiration for the Life on Another Island series which is set in a world where many characters unexpectedly start new lives in foreign, sometimes seemingly hostile, lands.

Ruth currently lives in the heart of England and works in administration. Writing novels forms her secret life.

KEYWORDS

Alternative history; historical thrillers; 18th century historical fiction; historical romances