Title The Scottish Selkie
Author Cornelia Amiri
Genre Historical Fantasy Romance
Book Blurb
A mysterious, dark warrior, a fiery Pict Princess, and the shadowy secret standing between them.
A fiery Pict Princess, Bethoc, aims her bow at King Kenneth MacAlpin but misses. To save her life, she is forced to wed the King's cousin, Malcolm. Just as the Scot warrior and the Pict princess begin to forge a bond, Malcolm must reveal his incredible secret and choose between two worlds: one with Bethoc or one without.
Excerpt
A sound woke Kenneth with a start. Grabbing his sword, he leapt off the bed. Brandishing the long blade, Kenneth glanced at the window. An assassin, perched on the other side of the wall, held a bow, strung with an arrow, aimed at him.
The assassin leapt down.
Kenneth whipped his sword toward the window and yelled, “Malcolm, an assassin, a bowman, makes his escape. Capture him.”
Malcolm leapt off the bench, rushed outside, and charged across the ground. By the light of the nearly full moon, he spotted the fleeing villain and gained on him. The assassin almost cost Malcolm all he had sacrificed for. Hackles rose on the back of his neck and ignoring the pull and strain in his legs, he ran harder and faster.
The scents of dirt and grass, mingled with the moisture in the air, were so strong he could taste it. Malcolm's heart pounded. He heard the huffiness of his breath as he came upon the villain.
Upon grabbing hold of the back of the black cowl, he yanked the man to him, and wrapped his arm around the fiend in an iron hold. “Make one move, cur and I'll break your neck.”
The assassin stilled. Malcolm took a deep breath, allowing his heartbeat to slow as he scanned the land near the castle. Armed men might be hidden in the woods, behind Ash, Pine, Birch, Rowan, and Hawthorne trees, waiting to attack. He glanced toward the keep, Kenneth's war band galloped toward them. The mounted troops’ snorting and neighing horses circled the assassin.
Malcolm shoved him to the ground, whipped out his sword, and held the deadly point at the villain’s throat. “Give me your name.”
His eyes turned round in shock and he gulped as if he could not find his voice.
Malcolm pushed the point of the blade against his neck until a drop of red blood trickled down. “You craven, tell me your name.”
“Bethoc,” the would-be assassin said in a hoarse voice.
Malcolm stared at the man who cowered on the ground at his mercy. His tunic bulged at his chest, his shoulders were too scrawny, and he’d never seen a man's waist taper so.
Malcolm gasped, yanked the sword away, and stepped back. “A lass.”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath and sat up. “A woman sworn to vengeance.”
As she sat up, her fingers slid over her head, slipping off the black hood of her cowl revealing brownish-red braids pinned on top of her head. Though her black braies and tunic veiled her in the night, she’d attempted her crime under a near full moon. Amateur. No hired killer was she.
“I came for Scot blood in vengeance of my sire. He died by mac Alpin's treason.” Her green eyes blazed.
“Who is your lord?” Malcolm fisted his hand around the hilt of his blade and squeezed hard.
She pushed herself to a standing position. “I have none.” Almost as tall as him, she looked him in the eye. “My betrothed was killed in the massacre along with my father. I am the only one to avenge their deaths.”
Her face was a perfect oval and her pale skin looked translucent in her dark assassin's attire.
“A female whelp. You nearly killed the King.” Malcolm sliced his sword through the air. “Take her to the feasting hall. The king will deliver judgment.” He jammed the blade into the sheath belted at his side.
Two soldiers grabbed the slender captive by each arm and dragged her to the castle.
Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. He had almost killed a young girl, and she nearly killed his king. What madness. How he longed for the sea at that moment. But first he’d help Kenneth get what he wanted, a united Alba. He wouldn’t leave until the Scots lived in peace and freedom. He reached down, picked up the bow she had dropped and carried it to the palace.
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Author Biography
I was introduced through books, to the woman who became my favorite historical character, Boudica. The Celtic Warrior Queen made me start writing professionally. I love history and in reading a book about the dark ages, I came across the rebel queen. She inspired me so much, I started jotting down notes, but they were fiction, visions of me involved in the Boudica revolt. Before I knew it, I had accidentally written a rough draft for a novel. And I've been writing books on purpose ever since. Drawing on my love of a happy ending I have currently penned over 30 published romance books.
Now, for the more mundane stuff. I and my muse, Severus the Cat, live amid the hustle and bustle of humid Houston, Texas. When not writing, I love to read, watch movies, and attend comic cons. I'm currently working on a sequel to Rare Finds and a sequel to The Brass Octopus, which I am renaming and republishing as The Librarian and the Rake.
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