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“Ashley York has spun a tale of love, lust, and conquering obstacles.”

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Those Were the Days

Welcome back! It's Monday. Do you know what that means? (This is a set up) It means it's Medieval Monday because I love the romanticized vision of the Middle Ages. In truth it was brutal, raw, and deadly but if you dress it up, it was filled with passion, chivalry, and hopeful.

Monday is the perfect day to share all things medieval and that's what I'll be doing here for the next thirteen weeks. Okay, not all things. Literature. We call it a blog hop because each week I will be at a different blog but with more of the excerpt that I am starting here today :)


“What have we here?”

The loud voice behind her should have startled her, as should have the fact that she was now alone in the woods with a man, but it did not. The man’s voice, deep and resonating, actually soothed her. She was in no condition to be in anyone’s company, with her thoughts scattering like mice and her heightened awareness of everything around her. But her mouth relaxed into a big smile that swept across her face.

She turned over to plop into a sitting position, her knife still gripped in her hand. The tall stranger was no more than a shadow as he came closer. The traditional léine he wore, tucked into his belt at the sides, did little to hide his well-honed legs, and she was impressed by the length of the fur brait that covered his shoulders to drape behind him. The shiny brooch that secured it was mounted with a bright, red gem. She’d swear each muscle flexed as he made his approach. Hanging from his belt was a two-handled axe on one side and a nasty looking sword on the other. The garb of a warrior.

Be sure to leave a comment and follow me next week when I'll be visiting Rue Allyn's blog with snippet number two!


After the death of Brian Boru in 1014, a legend arose of a healer so great she could raise a man from the dead, with a power so strong it could make any warrior the next high king of Éire...and to steal it away from her, he need only possess her.

Fated to be a healer…

Aednat has spent her entire life training to be the great healer, knowing she must remain alone. When she meets Diarmuid, the intense attraction she feels toward him shakes her resolve to believe in such a legend. If she gives in to the passion he ignites in her, can she settle for being less?

Destined to be his…

Diarmuid of Clonascra is renowned for his bravery in battle. Only one thing daunts him: the prospect of taking a wife. The safest course would be to keep his distance from Aednat, the bold, headstrong healer who's far too tempting for his peace of mind. But his overking orders him to protect her from a group of craven warriors intent on kidnapping her to steal her power.

What starts as duty for Diarmuid quickly transforms into something more. Aednat's power might be at risk, but so is his closed-off heart.

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