THE HIGHLANDER'S TRIUMPH by Eliza Knight (Guest Post/Giveaway)

Today I would like to welcome back the amazing, Eliza Knight, joining us with her historical romance and latest Stolen Bride book, The Highlander's Triumph!

A Different Sort of Heroine
By Eliza Knight

In each of my Stolen Bride books, I’ve made my heroines independent spirits. Ladies that whistle to their own tune, fighting society’s norms in order to find their happily ever after. They’ve each fallen in love with heroes who love them for who they are and encourage them, nurture them.

In the latest, Stolen Bride book, THE HIGHLANDER’S TRIUMPH, I really pushed the envelope with my heroine, Mariana. She is the English king’s mistress—but falling in love with a Highland warrior. She’s not a mistress by choice, however. Her family essentially sold her into it at a young age, and she’s desperate to break free of that life. To find love, and happiness. When Mariana falls into Brandon’s arms, she’s hard pressed to lift herself out.

But when he finds out she’s his enemy’s mistress… You’ll just have to read to find out.


The Highlander’s Triumph
Book Five: The Stolen Bride Series

He was a warrior fighting for Scottish freedom.She was his enemy’s mistress.
Laird Brandon Sinclair has given his life to the Scottish cause. Swearing fealty to Robert the Bruce, he will stop at nothing to see oppression end.
Lady Mariana wants nothing more than to break free of the tyrannical hold the English king has on her. When he sends her to Scotland with a message for the rebels, instead of obeying his orders, she finds herself submitting to her desires. After one sizzling, life-altering night, Brandon and Mariana must part ways. But Mariana has no intention of betraying her heart again.
And Brandon is determined to get her back. Stealing Longshank’s secrets felt like victory, but taking his woman will be this Highlander’s ultimate triumph.

Read it! 

Amazon / Barnes and Noble

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Nearing spring, 1298

Highlands, Scotland

Smoke filled Laird Brandon Sinclair’s lungs as he rode on horseback with his men toward the north of Kinterloch Village.

High above the wooden wall, flames burst in hungry orange licks. A vengeful fire that would turn everything in its path to ash. The late afternoon sky was already overcast, but the smoke of the blaze made it nearly black.

No villagers ran from the fire. No animals screamed. The chaos that should be erupting with the flames was non-existent—as if deserted. But he knew it couldn’t be. The people, the animals, were either trapped or had managed to get out from a different gate.

The Scottish troops’ fearless leader, William Wallace, had already charged through the front gates into the inferno as if he were a man with a death wish. He’d ordered Brandon and his men to check the north side for survivors. Brandon’s cousin, Ronan Sutherland, had taken his warriors to the west side near the loch.

Far from his castle and lands in the north of the Highlands, Brandon had traveled to Eilean Donan the month prior to help his cousins Daniel Murray and Ronan along with William Wallace and Robert the Bruce in the war against the English. But it seemed now it wasn’t only the English they were fighting—but traitor Scots too.

A loud crash reverberated through the air as another building collapsed behind the wall. A rush of heat surged his way, and a cloud of dark smoke billowed into the sky, in stark contrast to the world around them, a peaceful, beautiful place with lush pine trees and gorse bushes, even in winter. Hell set in the middle of heaven.

Doubt darkened his mood. There would be no survivors. Not in a raging inferno like this—one that rivaled Hades. He shook his head and spurred his horse forward. His chestnut colored warhorse, Checkmate, pounded the earth with his massive hooves.

If only they’d been able to get to the village before Laird Ross—traitor to all Scots and their ancestors. The damned bastard had defected to the English, and since doing so, had laid a path of destruction across the Highlands. There wasn’t a man Brandon knew that hadn’t been affected by Ross’ treachery. Hell, it seemed like the man was on a mission to make enemies with everyone of true Scottish heart.

Brandon’s thoughts were cut midway when they rounded the burning wall on the north side.

“Halt!” he shouted to his men, reining in Checkmate.

A woman burst through the wooden gate, exposing the interior angry flaming village. Hair black as a midnight sky, skin covered in soot. Her dark green gown was covered by a singed, once high-quality, wool cloak. She tripped, falling onto her hands and knees, coughing, yet she did not stop. The lass crawled forward, every move beleaguered in her attempt to escape the flaming village.

Without a thought, Brandon jumped from Checkmate, and ran toward her.

“Lass, are ye all right?”

He knelt before her and she practically fell into his arms, her breath coming out in a rush against his face. Her eyes closed, then fluttered open. She grasped onto him with weak, trembling fingers.

“Oh, monsieur…”

French. Brandon quirked a brow, trying not to be completely infatuated with the way her words rolled seductively off her tongue. What was a woman of French descent doing in Kinterloch? The lass clutched at the front of his cloak and glanced up, hair falling onto her soot covered face. He swiped the strands away and was startled by a pair of lovely, sparkling blue eyes. The color of the sky on a cloudless summer day.Like blue diamonds. But they were filled with fear, pain.

Brandon’s hands skimmed over hers—soft and small—then up her arms as he pulled her to standing. She wavered on her feet, and glanced around as if she expected the devil to burst from the earth and drag her down into the depths of his hellish domain.

“Lass, ye’re safe now. Tell me, are ye hurt?”

She shook her head, licked at her cracked, red lips. “No. I’m not hurt, other than my lungs—they burn with each breath.” Her voice was hoarse, as though just a tiny hint of air passed through her delicate throat.

“Dinna speak then, if it pains ye.” Brandon’s hands slipped to her shoulders, automatically massaging the tense muscles there.

Eliza Knight is the multi-published, award-winning, Amazon best-selling author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. 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, and enjoys cold winter nights when she can curl up in front of a roaring fire with her own knight in shining armor. Visit Eliza at www.elizaknight.com or her historical blog History Undressed: www.historyundressed.com Twitter: @ElizaKnight and Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizaknightauthor

GIVEAWAY:
Eliza is giving away one eBook of The Highlander's Triumph to one reader! To enter, just leave a question or comment for her on this post. :-) The be sure to fill out the rafflecopter below. Good luck!

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