This is actually the prequel to TREASON 1 + 2 and not the finale as stated in the amazon blurb, but the story can be read and be seen as a backstory where hopefully any unanswered questions from TREASON 1 + 2 will be addressed.
TREASON 3- The Meonia Stone can be read first or last: 1, 2, 3 or read 3, 1, 2
- The Flawed Princess - WIP
- Queen Takes KIng - WIP
- Blood of His Fathers Book 3 - WIP
- Blood of His Fathers Book 2 - WIP
- A Heart in Chains - WIP
- Hessa's Fire 2 : Rekindled - WIP
- Luna: Frost Moons and Golden Apples Book 3 - May 2018
- Hessa's Fire- March 2018
- Luna: Frost Moons and Golden Apples Book 2 - February 2018
- Treason-Prequel (3rd Edition) - November 2017
- Treason- Book 2 (3rd Edition) - October 2017
- Treason- Book 1 (3rd Edition) - September 2017
- Luna: Frost Moons and Golden Apples Book 1 - July 2017
- The Woman In The Portrait- July 2012
- Treason-previously Ripples in the Water- Amazon Kindle $2.99
- Shakespeare Masquerade July 2011
- Blood of His Fathers Book 1 June 2010
- Through the Garden Gate November 2009
- Fairytale Bride December 2007
- Ripples in the Water April 2007
Monday, November 13, 2017
Saturday, November 11, 2017
For the English Catholics, the Meonia Stone is a call to arms. For Celeste Darwent it is an unknown force that will ultimately shape her destiny.
Caught in a Catholic conspiracy to assassinate a Protestant King, she is forced to seek refuge in a marriage to a man whose word has already condemned her father to the gallows.
“I’ve wanted you from the very moment I first laid eyes on you, my lady,” he whispered against her lips. “Had I known it was you…I would’ve courted you. Done this differently. Marry me, Celeste. Marry me, and you’ll want for nothing. I swear. Allow me to right this. Be my wife.”
Her eyes fluttered opened and Celeste focused on Scully’s handsome face.
“Be my wife,” he repeated.
Tears rose in her eyes and fell in hot tracks into her hair. She turned her face away in quiet shame. No man would have her now, not even Zev, but she could never belong to Scully. Not like this.
“No,” she said.
Scully turned her face back to his. “Wasn’t I kind? Wasn’t I gentle?”
“Leave me be.”
His hands moved down her body molding her tighter to him. His weight shifted once more between her thighs and his manhood pressed against her bruised softness.
“I cannot, my lady. I have defied a French King to be with you tonight.”