Excerpt: Knight of Love

Title: Knight of Love

Author: Catherine LaRoche

Date of Publiaction: June 9, 2014

Formats Available: E-book

Buy This Book: Amazon

Synopsis: In this saucy romance, an English lady turns the damsel-in-distress tale on its head as she escapes her malicious fiancé and fights for both her life and that of the lustful rebel that has become her protector.

Lady Lenora Trevelyan, a naïve yet stubborn young lady born to the highest noble houses of England and Germany, finds herself betrothed to the brutal Prince Kurt von Rotenburg-Gruselstadt. But after she is cruelly bruised and flogged by her fiancé, she decides to take the reins of her fate. In the midst of a German revolution, Lenora escapes Kurt’s iron fist and embarks home to England. She quickly finds herself in the hands of a rebel group and their robust, gentle, and handsome leader, Wolfram von Wolfsbach und Ravensworth, the English Earl of Ravensworth.

Lenora struggles to deny the passion she feels towards the frustratingly chivalrous Earl but her desire for him continues to bloom. Wolfram hungers nothing other than to fight for democracy and civil rights in uniting Germany and to protect what he assumes is his damsel in distress. Through nights of immeasurable pleasure, Lenora and Wolfram learn that their passion is no match for the revolutionary chaos that ensues. And when Lenora discovers that her protector’s life is threatened, she must risk everything to save her Knight of Love.

Excerpt:

The German Confederation

February 1848

The first lash robbed her of breath.

The second granted her freedom.

If he’d go so far as to have her publicly flogged, she owed him no further loyalty. Any obligation remaining from their betrothal contact ended here, in this moment, with this lash.

Morally, she was free.

Now all she had to do was escape the bastard and make him pay.

As the second stroke landed, fire replaced the shock, and a hot slick of pain bloomed across her back. The coarse linen shift that a spying maid had forced her into provided no protection. It offered little modesty, either, from the uneasy crowd Kurt had gathered inside the castle gates to witness her punishment. She gritted her teeth and refused to cry out. A rough rope bound her wrists above her head to the flogging post. As her knees buckled, the  binding made her perversely glad; she doubted she could stand upright on her own.

Before arriving at this godforsaken pile of German stone, she—Lady Lenora Trevelyan, eldest child to the Duke and Duchess of Sherbrooke, third cousin to Queen Victoria’s German consort, His Royal Highness Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha—had never been struck in her life. Now, in her three months at Schloss  Rotenburg, she’d lost count of her bruises.

At first, before her parents had returned home to England, Kurt hadn’t hit her—or “corrected her,” as it pleased that smug worm to call his slaps and blows. He claimed it was for her own good, of course, to teach and prepare her for her life as hisPrinzessin and mistress of Rotenburg.

She must carry out her duties perfectly, he’d hiss, tightening a grip on her arm until she knew she’d wear a band of purple bruises for a week. Or he’d strike out in sudden fury at some perceived failure of hers—she’d forgotten the name of one of his sainted ancestors in the castle’s gloomy portrait gallery, or made a minor grammatical mistake in her German, or not shown proper courtesy to a visiting Bürgermeister.

Tied now to the flogging post, she lost count after the third blow. She’d seen the long leather strap when the stable master, shamefaced, had bound her with muttered apologies and handed the lash to a muscled groom more accustomed to cracking it around stubborn horses than using it to beat highborn ladies. Now she could barely feel the individual strokes as they landed, only the waves of hot agony clenching her back and shoulders in a vise grip of pain.

Through the red haze blurring her vision, she saw Kurt standing nearby. Next to him, his sanctimonious toady minister prattled the Bible proverb of the virtuous wife whose price was far above rubies. The gleeful, twisted pleasure Kurt took in her pain radiated off his stork-like form like a sickening stench. She bit down on her lip and gathered her hatred of her fiancé like a babe to her breast.

It was all she had left to get her out of this hell.

When Kurt finally held up a hand to signal the groom to cease, her labored breath echoed in the silent crowd. She knew the townspeople didn’t approve of the public beating their prince had commanded for his foreign betrothed. No more than they believed his story that she’d agreed to a religious flagellation in humble preparation for becoming his pious and obedient wife. But Prince Kurt von Rotenburg-Gruselstadt ruled the castle and town with an iron fist. None would risk their lord’s wrath to stand up for her.

Kurt stepped to the front of the dais. “Lady Lenora bears her trial most nobly,” he announced to the crowd. “Her embrace of her suffering does honor to a bloodline that unites the highest noble houses of England and Germany.”

That bloodline, she knew well, was why he’d chosen her. The prig made no secret of his disdain for any born below the upper aristocracy. The Holy Roman emperor himself, Kurt often delighted to inform her, had conferred the title of Prinz upon the House of Rotenburg-Gruselstadt in the previous century. Her own background had led the matchmakers to judge them a perfect pair: her father’s ancient ducal title intermingled, like that of so many English peers these days, with noble blood from her Prussian princess mother.

No one had thought to mention that her fiancé had the temperament of a petulant demon on a bad day in hell.

As Kurt stalked toward her, she forced her knees to straighten. She was done being afraid of this man. He pulled back the torn linen shift to inspect her back. Despite her resolve not to cry out, she gasped as the frayed edges stuck to her skin.

“Beautiful work,” he murmured into her ear. “This is what a woman should look like. Chastised to a man’s authority, marked to her proper place.”

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Excerpt: Breathing Ghosts by Laekan Kemp

She is a winding cosmos, bleeding and bursting into night. She is a dream. She is dead.

Excerpt:

“Don’t move.”

A breeze rushed past, my hair tangled over my face. I reached for it and Nia narrowed her eyes.

“I said be still.”

“You want to draw me like this? With my hair in my face?”

“I want to draw you just as you are.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

I could see the shadow of her hand bleeding across the page and the harsh lines of my face. Ovals and dark shadows. The square of my jaw. I tried not to watch her draw, anticipating the worst. Not because Nia wasn’t good. She was. But because I wasn’t. Not for preserving on a sheet of thick drawing paper.

She’d bought them the week before, almost twenty bucks for a pack of ten. And she’d been waiting to use them until that weekend when we could drive down to the beach.

She wanted me against the tide. She wanted the sunset. She wanted everything to be perfect. I couldn’t tell her no. I couldn’t tell her that I was uncomfortable, that I didn’t even like posing for pictures let alone portraits. And I couldn’t tell her that I was afraid—of what she’d draw, of how she saw me.

“Tilt your head up.”

I shifted, the sun burning my eyes.

“Keep them open.” Nia crawled in front of me. “I want to get your eyes right.”

She traced the shape, then erased, tried again, erased some more. She left the iris bare before dotting the freckles around the outer ring and then carving out my lashes.

She stared at them for a long time, her own eyes unflinching against the wind. I glanced down at the drawing and there were things floating there I didn’t even recognize: dimples and flashes of light, my lashes tangled near the corner of my eye, a dark shadow pooling down to the bridge of my nose.

I closed my eyes for a minute, rubbing out the sting.

“Almost.”

I shook my head. “I think you’ve got it.”

She touched the edge of my eyebrow with her thumbnail, pinning me, and then she sketched it low over my lashes. She drew them cinched, the skin between them rippled.

“I look pissed.”

“Aren’t you?”

I tried to smile. “No. Just trying not to go blind.”

“Well if you do, at least you’ll have an extra pair.”

I stared at the eyes and they stared back. They didn’t look like mine—dark and narrow, red lines carving into a blue that would rather be grey. They looked alive.

“Do you like it?” she said.

“All of this was there?”

“All of it.”

“It just doesn’t look like me.”

She bit her lip, looking from the sketch to me. “Yes it does.”

I could feel her watching me, still trying to capture all of the things I didn’t want her to see. I turned away and she reached for me. Her hand slid to my face, thumb still tracing the corner of my eyebrow.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“That bothers you?” she laughed.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

She lowered her voice. “Are you afraid I’ll see something I don’t like?”

I didn’t answer her.

“River?”

I knew she was waiting for me to look at her but I didn’t move.

“I love you.”

And then I couldn’t. I was frozen. Her hand slipped from my face and she slid back down into the sand. Love. Me?

“What?” The words stumbled out.

“Here,” she said, not looking at me. “You can keep it.”

The corner of the page slid between my fingers, those eyes I didn’t recognize staring up at me, waiting.

“Nia.”

She looked at me, shadows peeling the sun from her skin.

“I love you too.”

Progress: Case Notes

Is love an infection or is it a sick addiction, when there's nowhere left to run?

Amy Queau's new novel, Progress, centers around two very different characters as they battle their own demons while falling in love in the process. Follow the story of Charlie and Jesse as they follow two conflicting paths but yet manage to make their paths cross, changing each others lives.

Buy Progress through Amazon HERE

Don't forget to enter our giveaway for a free copy of Progress HERE

Check out an excerpt of Jesse's case notes below!

~

Case File # 121774-3249 

Subject Name: Jesse James Anders (Jesse James Sanborn)

D.O.B.: 17-November, 1987

Address: 1816 Burnsville Parkway, Burnsville, MN  55337

Contact: 953-443-4309 (last known working phone, no longer in service)

Single Caucasian Male

0 children/dependents

No religion specified 

Chief Complaint from patient: “I’m having troubles with time. I can’t remember when I’m scheduled to work. I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel numb. And, I’m drunk.” – Message taken by staff member Shelly Gleason over the phone on September 6, 2012.

Notes: Patient first seen in by Dr. Jackson on August 4, 2003 after complaints of previous doctor not using effective treatment methods. After refusal of psychotherapy, patient has been seen regularly by Dr. Jackson to update his prescriptions.

Initial Diagnosis: ADHD, victim of severe physical abuse by biological parents and two foster fathers before the age of 15. Other Detachment disorders noted, but not specified as patient is reluctant to discuss childhood.

Date of Diagnosis: March 1997 by Dr. Ralph Carlson, MD. before referred to our offices in 2003. (see attached notes from Dr. Carlson)

Current Diagnosis: Bipolar I (initial diagnosis retracted after prescribed medication failures to ease symptoms).

Date of Current Diagnosis: December 2003

History: Born in St. Paul, MN to John and Melinda Sanborn. No known complications with childbirth or mental health history before ten years of age. Father, John worked for a manufacturing plant, and mother, Melinda, a domestic engineer. Mother had a bipolar diagnosis but remained un-medicated throughout patient’s childhood. Have not been able to reach patient’s biological parents for confirmation.

Patient describes his social life before ten as “normal.” Received good grades, had many friends, adjusted well to new situations, etc. Patient refuses to discuss the death of his sister, Mandy, and when asked general questions about his family life through childhood, he chooses not to respond. (see attached interview with father and Dr. Carlson, discussing initial diagnosis and circumstances surrounding “Mandy’s” death.)

Marriage, Education and Occupational History: Patient is single, but dating. One significant relationship to date. Patient is heterosexual with a history of promiscuity with multiple partners.
High school diploma and one year complete of Community College. Social situations through school presented challenges for patient in communication and focus.

Occupational history includes: restaurant industry, warehouse, USA Cycling National Championships cross-country and other competitions, and briefly, The US Marines.

High risk behaviors include: Alcohol abuse, marijuana abuse, aggression, and a history of police confrontation.

Current living/social situation: Lives with friend, Jake, and Jake’s father, Dennis, in a single-family home in suburb of Minneapolis, MN. He rents out a single room in the home. Patient describes social situations as solitary or few friends of note. Patient is highly intelligent (see attached MMPI and Weschler results), but prefers an environment of low risk and low challenge.

Summation and Notes:

Initial visit in 2003: Patient was brought by foster mother, Lily Lamoureaux, to our offices at fourteen years of age. Patient’s overall appearance was clean and appropriate. Eye contact minimal and very few words spoken. Ms. Lamoureaux described patient as “sad, confused and broken.” Patient evasive and bouncing knee with arms folded in front of chest. Posture was slouched and showed ambivalence. Patient was alert, but hostile when asked specific questions of state-of-mind, depression and previous foster care. Ms. Lamoureaux described his past situation as “unfortunate and unloving” and “abusive, neglectful and punishable.” (see enclosed audio recording of initial visit – #A3328)

Anxiety visibly increased in patient as Ms. Lamoureaux described previous foster living arrangements and previous biological parental abuse, along with the death of patient’s sister, “Mandy.”

Initial diagnosis of ADHD by Dr. Carlson in question.

Hospitalizations and Interventions: Patient suffered head trauma as a result of a social altercation in 2012. Previous hospitalizations before in my care are noted in Dr. Carlson’s file (see attached).

Medications: (see full history and side effects attached)

Lithium; 2004-2008.

Seroquel 2008-present.

Lorazepam 2008-present.