Guest Post: Stolen by the Laird by Eliza Knight

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Stolen by the Laird

(Conquered Bride Series Book 4)


Eliza Knight

Blog Tour – June 29 to July 9


stolen by the laird about the book

stolen by the laird cover

She was supposed to be his prize… But not all rewards are sweet…

Laird Brody Keith, Marischal of Scotland, has been asked by his future king to travel with William Wallace to Dunnottar Castle, where they will seize the castle back from the English. If he completes his mission, the castle, the land and all it holds, will be his. Brody is more than eager to sink his blade into the hearts of his enemies after the brutal murder of his sister and father. But what he doesn’t count on is finding an English lass in need of his protection…

Lady Guinevere has led a less than pleasant life in Scotland over the past year, and now she can either run for her life or accept the proposal of a man who should be her enemy. Survival bids her to acquiesce, but that doesn’t mean she has to play nice. Except, she’s coming to adore the people whom she’s always been told she should hate, and respect the man who risked his life for her.

Joined for a mutual purpose, Brody and Guinevere seem doomed from the start, but as time passes and their true enemies draw closer, they’ll form an alliance that not even the devil himself can break.


stolen by the laird excerpt

Brody pushed the door open the remainder of the way and came face to face with four Englishwomen. They huddled by the window, dressed in Sassenach gowns, hair once styled as though they were attending a great feast, jewels at their necks, and tears adorning each face except for one.

“Och, but I’ve died and gone to Hell,” he muttered.

Everyone knew Englishwomen were as shrewish as… well as, an Englishwoman, and as cold as dead fish.

All four stared at him, wide-eyed, mouths hung agape.

Much like fish, he thought.

They were pretty enough, especially the one with the long flowing blonde locks. Though it looked as though her locks had seen better days, perhaps not to have been torn from whatever fancy knot they’d been in.

“Who are ye?” he asked in not too kind a tone. He didn’t want any shrewish behavior, simply facts.

The blonde stepped forward, squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye with her piercing blue—nay more green than blue—eyes. She was the only one who didn’t cry. As though she’d been expecting him. The lass was beautiful, even if she was a harpy. Her bone structure was delicate, but her eyes sharp, and the way she frowned, well, he guessed her tongue to be just as barbed. The gown accentuated the curve of her hips and the swell of marginal breasts—he refused to call them the perfect size, for she was English, and he denied finding anything about her to be flawless.

“Who are you?” she retorted.

Och, a fiery little fish. “I asked ye first.”

“Well”—her gaze roved from the top of his head down to his boot tips and he felt more than a little assessed—“I think it is plain to see I outrank you, savage, so you must answer me first.”

At her bold words the ladies in her presence all paled, one covered her mouth, another pinched her own arms and the third nodded approval.

Brody chuckled, taking a menacing step forward. “Then I suppose we have found ourselves at an impasse, fishy, for I do believe I outrank ye.”

“Fishy? Ye insult me.” She shook her head and regarded him with something akin to disgust. “Impossible.”

Her revulsion almost had him checking himself. How odd, and why should he even wonder at her manners? She was English after all. Every woman he’d ever met up to this point had fallen at his feet. Brody was known for his charismatic tongue, his lovemaking abilities. Well, this fish wouldn’t know those things. And from the looks of her, she’d be too uptight to enjoy the pleasures he could have given her, if he wanted to, which he wouldn’t.

Brody puffed his chest and took several steps forward. “I assure ye, madam, given your current situation, anything is possible.”

Two of her ladies fainted dead away and the third stepped in front of the blonde, only to be shoved behind, a sharp word from the Grande Fishy’s mouth.

Then she turned back to him, pursing her lips as though she were contemplating a truce.

Before she could speak, he cut her off. “I dinna make deals, lass. If ye dinna believe me, then take a look out your window at the kirk yonder.”

“So you intend to kill us then?” Despite the stubborn set to her jaw and shoulders, her lower lip quivered.

Och, but why did that slight tremble have to tug at his heart? “We shall see what comes to pass.”


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stolen by the laird about the author

Eliza Knight

Eliza Knight is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling indie author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. Under the name E. Knight, she pens rip-your-heart-out historical fiction. While not reading, writing or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses and two very naughty puppies.


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Guest Post: To Catch a Fallen Spy by Barbara Devlin

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To Catch A Fallen Spy


Barbara Devlin

Blog Tour – June 27 to July 2

to catch a spy about the book

to catch a fallen spy cover

Lady Elaine Prescott, the most timid member of the Brethren, has spent much of her time in the shadows, forever blending into the background. From her unconventional perspective, she studies people and their behavior, gleaning information most overlook, and she is content in her quiet little world. When her unusual habit puts her in the right place at the wrong moment, she witnesses a violent crime, and her life is threatened. To her dismay, Elaine finds herself in an unwelcomed spotlight and in need of a knight.

Sir Ross Logan is a master spy and the mysterious head of the covert Counterintelligence Corps. In dark spaces he lurks, scrutinizing those he is charged to defend, and it is an easy and uncomplicated existence for a man of many secrets. In the midst of a murder investigation, he is tasked with guarding a noblewoman, the gentle lady he has furtively admired for years. Young and unspoiled, she is everything he is not, and he vows to protect her. While he doubts not his ability to save her from a lethal villain, can Ross defend Elaine against himself?

Lady Elaine Prescott steps from beyond the shadows to claim her gallant knight, Sir Ross Logan, the mysterious head of the Counterintelligence Corps.


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to catch a fallen spy excerpt

The Descendants


September, 1815

Secrets lurked in the shadows, beckoning as a welcomed friend for the undaunted. Unfettered by social conventions, the spotlight of which forced many a lord or a lady to conform to the expectations of others, the blackness functioned as a form of liberty, wherein revelers conducted their covert games without threat of discovery or retribution. It was in those dark spaces Lady Elaine Horatia Prescott found comfort and strength.

As the youngest member of a large, extended family comprised of spirited ladies with bold personalities and equally intrepid men, the famed Nautionnier Knights of the Brethren of the Coast, daring sea captains descended of the Templars, the warriors of the Crusades, she often hugged the background, taking pride in her ability to hide in plain sight. Searching for some sense of herself, something not influenced by the rich history of her ancestors or her colorful relations, she fought to construct her own identity on her terms.

What she had not expected was to find love.

With great care, she moved swift and sure as she approached her target, skulking amid the outskirts of the crowd that filled the Hawthorne’s ballroom, during the height of the Little Season. As she neared, he shifted, and she paused just shy of touching him and held her breath.

In one fail swoop, he pivoted, slipped an arm about her waist, pulled her into a corner, and bent to whisper in her ear. “Lady Elaine, you are the only person capable of sneaking up on me, and I am not sure I appreciate your skill.” Sir Ross Logan, the enigmatic head of the Counterintelligence Corps, brushed the crest of her flesh with his lips, she suspected not by accident, and her knees buckled. “Why do you not dance? Why do you not take your place among the ton, with the other debutantes? Do you not wish to snare a husband, marry, and have children?”

“On the contrary, I want all those things with someone of my choosing.” She cupped his cheek, and he retreated, much to her chagrin. “But I am here because you are here.”

“Elaine, you must stop this nonsense.” Now he withdrew and attempted to push her aside, but she resisted, even as her heart plummeted. And despite his complaints, he would not hazard courting attention, so she held her ground. “I am not the man for you.”

“How do you know that?” It was not the first time he rejected her, and she surmised it would not be the last. “Why will you not give us a chance at happiness?”

“Because I have nothing to give you but misery and regret.” As usual, Ross offered the same excuse.

“I disagree.” As usual, she would not be deterred. “And I will not yield my cause, no matter your protestations.”

“Neither will I.” To convey his position, he folded his arms, but he could never fool her. “Go back to your world of perfume and petticoats, as I have work to do, and I require no partner.”

“As you wish.” Of course, she knew well the routine and her part to play in their typical drama. So she marched into the fray, unabashed and poised in her determination. A potential solution tripped before her, and she extended assistance, as would any woman of character. “Sir Kleinfeld, are you all right?”

“Oh, my lady.” With a toothy grin, he brushed off his lapels and bowed. “Did I step on you?”

“No.” Elaine giggled, because he was well known for such behavior. “How are you enjoying the party?”

“Not very much, I am sorry to admit.” Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder. “The elder Miss Hogart refuses to grant me the honor of the Allemande.”

“Perhaps she will change her mind, when she spies you in a graceful performance of the waltz, with me.” In a valiant appeal to his pride, she curtseyed. “What say you, Sir Kleinfeld?”

“Lady Elaine, you are the soul of charity.” When she rested her palm in the crook of his elbow, he covered her hand with his. “You know, if my affections were not firmly planted in Miss Hogart’s garden, I should court you.”

“You flatter me, sir.” To her credit, she mustered the courage to brave the rotation with one of the clumsiest, but good-natured, members of her set.

And so she ventured into the breach, imperiling her feet in her quest to win Sir Ross. After the third trouncing of her toes, she swallowed a grunt of pain and prayed her savior would not linger, else she might suffer broken bones. Just how long would her beau wait? As if on cue, her rescuer presented himself as she predicted.

“May I intrude?” Ross tapped Archibald on the shoulder. “As I believe Miss Hogart seeks an audience.”

“Capital.” Without so much as a backward glance, Sir Kleinfeld gave her into Ross’s care, and that suited Elaine just fine.

“I know what you are doing.” Ross took her in his arms, twined her fingers with his, and they whirled in the soft light of the cut-glass chandeliers.

“I beg your pardon?” She lifted her chin and avoided his stare.

“Do not dissemble with me, Lady Elaine.” The tone of his voice declared she had scored a direct hit, and she reveled in her small victory. Near the side wall, he pulled her closer. “How dare you deliberately put yourself in jeopardy to bait me, as that buffoon could have seriously injured you.”

“But you are not the man for me, so you would never answer a supposed summons.” Let him counter that. “Or did you lie?”

“You lured me into the open, without thought of my mission or the risk to my safety, just to meet your selfish aims.” Now that hurt. “I ought to spank you.”

“Name the date and time, and I shall accommodate you.” Swallowing her trepidation, she looked him in the eye, and he cast the hint of a grin. “I challenge you, sir.” She licked her lips. “Resist me.”

new brethren icon barbara devlin

to catch a fallen spy about the author

Bestselling, Amazon All-Star author Barbara Devlin was born a storyteller, but it was a weeklong vacation to Bethany Beach, DE that forever changed her life. The little house her parents rented had a collection of books by Kathleen Woodiwiss, which exposed Barbara to the world of romance, and Shanna remains a personal favorite.

Barbara writes heartfelt historical romances that feature flawed heroes who may know how to seduce a woman but know nothing of marriage. And she prefers feisty but smart heroines who sometimes save the hero, before they find their happily ever after.


Barbara earned an MA in English and continued a course of study for a Doctorate in Literature and Rhetoric. She happily considered herself an exceedingly eccentric English professor, until success in Indie publishing lured her into writing, full-time, featuring her fictional knighthood, the Brethren of the Coast.

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Kobo Sale!

Have you had a chance to read Operation Wildcat? No? Then today’s your lucky day!

Kobo is offering 50% off all titles until Monday June 27th! And get this… You can use the code an unlimited amount of times until then! Just add the discount code 50JUN. So why not head over and get shopping! Nothing better than having new books waiting for you on your Kobo!

Happy reading!

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Giveaway Time!

I’m hosting a giveaway on my Facebook page!

Wanna win a 50 dollar amazon gift card and a ebook copy of Operation Wildcat?! Here’s what you gotta do!

– Subscribe to my newsletter and here is the address:!contact-me/x4etp
-Comment on the original post (author page) and let us know what you did. Also, tell us what is your favorite thing about Paranormal Romance? 



The Wait

Right now it’s currently 1:01 am and I’m lying in bed tossing and turning. No it’s not because of the amazing episode of Game of Thrones I just watched, but the impeding announcement of the winner for the Kobo Emerging Writer Prize. Operation Wildcat was nominated back in April for this amazing award and now the day I’ve been waiting for has almost arrived… And I’m anxious.

I’m up against some amazing fellow Canadian authors and my book is also being read by the amazing Lynsay Sands, so I’m finding it rather hard to keep from obsessing over the outcome. Who wouldn’t though. $10,000 and help with promotions, marketing, and communication from Kobo is an amazing prize for an up and coming self published author. It’s not easy or cheap to self publish but from what I seen so far it’s definitely been an amazing experience.

So fingers crossed that around 5 pm (Alberta time) June 21st I will receive an email from Kobo congratulating me, but if it doesn’t happen I can honestly say it’s just an honor to be nominated. So on that note I’m going to sign off and tuck in. Have an amazing night and wish me luck!

Guest Post: Welcome Sheri Velarde!

Today I want to introduce my friend and author Sheri Velarde. She has an amazing idea to help fundraise for the victims of the tragic Orlando shooting. Please if you would like to help, read her post below. Without further ado…

I have been rather quiet on the Orlando tragedy. Not because I don’t care, but because I did not know how to verbalized anything about something so horrible. Also, I’m going through a lot personally and I am not strong enough to deal with all the arguments coming from every side on this incident. (Note any political or mean spirited comments will be deleted.) My heart goes out to the victims, their loved ones, and everyone affected. My husband and I are both part of the LGBTQ world even if to the outside we just look like a straight couple.

Sitting around it is hard to imagine what one person can do in the face of such hatred. I’m nowhere close to Florida, so there is nothing I can do on the ground there. I have been hit with medical bills and vet bills and have no money at the moment to donate. Yet I want to do something, to speak out in the name of peace and love. I am an author that is what I am known for and what I do. I write characters who are gay, lesbians, bi and I am working on a piece with a transgender character. Sure I write lots of straight characters too. My characters tell me their preferences and just like in real life I don’t care, as long as they are good characters, good people. So I figure that there had to be something connected to writing that I could do.

In honor of those lost, I have decided to donate all my proceeds over the next two months (June15- the end of August – so 2.5 months) from Love at the Comic Con (m/m) and Lost Souls (f/f) to the families of the victims of this atrocity. All my proceeds from these two books for the next two months will go towards a charity helping the families. I still need to do research to determine the exact organization. If you have an organization that you think is a good match, please let me know and I will check them out.

I’m an indie author and I know this won’t raise thousands, but every bit helps I am sure and I really want to show some love, that love still exists in the face of tremendous hate.

The links are listed below. I know Lost Souls is part of a series, but it reads just fine as a standalone. Both are short and fun romances that I hope you enjoy as well as contributing to a good cause.


Love at the Comic Con:

Lost Souls:

I will post updates on my blog as I figure out what organization I will be sending the funds to. Again, thank you for helping me try to help others.



A bit of inspiration…


This quote is perfect. I’ve always been a daydreamer, but I think it’s actually been much more frequent lately.

As some of you know, I just finished my first round of edits for Cherry Bomb, and I feel the need to start on the 3rd instalment of the Keystone series. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to gain a foothold on it. I’ve started it countless times and created three separate beginnings to the book. I don’t want to call it writer’s block (acknowledgment of the word gives it more power than it deserves) but I have definitely been stumped.

This is where my daydreaming comes into play. My husband does the majority of the driving wherever we go (the perks of living in the middle of nowhere) and this is when I get to phase out and plot. I’ve been dying to write this book but for some reason my characters weren’t talking to me. Until the other day. A trip to a local fair and rodeo gave me the spark I needed to get started. So watch out…Unbearable (working title), I’m coming for you.


Operation Wildcat, first book in my Keystone series, is available for purchase at the links below.

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