Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. I’m so happy you’ve stopped by. I have returning guest author Ruth A. Casie who has an excerpt to share from her novel Knight of Rapture. We hope you enjoy it. Happy reading, my lovelies! Take it away, Ruth.
Setting the Stage:
In a timeless battle between light and darkness, love becomes the ultimate magic.
The 17th century warrior knight and druid grand master, Lord Arik, manages his estate well and his people honorably. When his sorceress wife, Rebeka, is tricked into returning to the 21st century, he spends months trying to find the precise spell to rescue her. When he finds her, she has no memory of him and decides he will make her fall in love with him, again. I thought you would like before and after excerpts demonstrating their love for each other.
Note: This is Book 2 of the Druid Knight series. Book 1 is Knight of Runes.
Excerpts:
He cleared his mind for the ritual and thoughts of Bran faded—for the moment.
“Hail and welcome,” he declared to the east as fingers of sunlight stretched over the hill. His body warmed as the tattooed runes draped across his back and chest, thrummed and brightened. They were a sign of his station as the druid Grand Master. Each rune strengthened his power and had been earned as he progressed in the Order from druid to Master to the ultimate title of Grand Master. “Thank you, Great Mother for giving us another day, a day of peace…“
And, he murmured, for giving me Rebeka.
The lingering mist faded with the morning sun. Like a cozy down blanket pulled from a bed, the retreating haze revealed the thriving village and farms.
Soon the quiet valley would come to life. Farmers would set off on their daily chores, the villagers would open their shops, and his soldiers would take to the practice fields. His chest swelled. Was it a sin to be proud of what he, together his people, had accomplished? He’d do anything for them, anything to protect their hearths and homes.
He closed his eyes for the morning blessing. “As above, so below. As within, so—.” He took a deep breath and caught the faint scent of lavender and roses. The teasing fragrance announced Rebeka was near. Her morning appearance, with his tankard of watered ale, had become part of his ritual. “…so without,” he continued the rite. “May guidance and love mark our way. And bring success for our clan today. So mote it be.” He opened his eyes.
“The day appears promising.” Rebeka’s voice brought a smile to his lips. She tugged her shawl closer around her shoulders. “M’lord.” Soft puffs of breath surrounded her mouth. There was indeed a chill in the morning air. She gave him his discarded shirt and waited while he shrugged into it before handing him his ale.
She had little on beneath her great shawl. It made his mind wander. “Yes. It will be a good day.” It was always a good day when it began with her at his side. “Almost as good as last night.” They drove each other mad with their verbal banter and soft touches yesterday until she surrendered to him. His reward was to tease her until she yielded last night. Who knew who would yield today? Either way they both won.
Her gaze slid from his chest to his face. Her searing expression brought back the warmth of their passionate evening. Her flushed skin was her silent response.
He returned his gaze to the valley pretending to be interested in the smoke now rising from a distant chimney. He turned his attention back to her.
Faith, how he loved sparring with her.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught her blank stare. But the challenge was given and he understood it had been accepted. With a long pull on his ale he returned his attention to the curling smudge in the sky and like a game of chess waited for her to make the next move.
She rose on tiptoes and bathed his ear with her soft breath. “But not as good as tonight will be,” she whispered. “We celebrate Samhain tonight.”
He didn’t try to hide his arousal. He set the tankard on the wide stone railing before the ale sloshed over its rim.
“Happy thoughts for the day, husband.” She laid her hand on his chest and bent to kiss his cheek.
He caught her around her waist and brought her face to his. How he adored the passion in her violet eyes. They asked for more. He answered with a searing kiss and teased her mouth open with his tongue. She didn’t protest. Instead she moved closer, molding her body into his. Encouraged, his tongue swept her mouth and he reveled at the sweet taste. When he released her she stood in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest with his cheek resting on her hair. Quiet and content, he savored the last few moments while the sun rose over the edge of the hill.
Tricked into returning to the future…
She rushed up the trail into the meadow then skidded to a stop. Her heart skipped a beat.
Arik leaned against the stone signpost. He straightened when he spotted her, a sensual smile spreading across his face beckoning her toward him.
“Love, come quickly,” he called in his deep, melodic voice that both chilled and heated her. He must have finished with the portal sooner than he expected.
“I’m coming.” Eager for his touch, his kiss, she rushed toward him. Perhaps she’d teased too much this morning. Should she admit she had been disappointed when Logan appeared? She rushed toward her husband, the man she loved and trusted beyond all others.
A hint of wind brushed across her face. “Hurry, there isn’t much time,” he shouted over his shoulder while he moved deeper into the meadow toward the oak tree. He was a few steps ahead. Why didn’t he wait for her? She took another step and past the stone marker.
The air chilled and the sky turned an array of colors. Everything around her began to swirl. She realized her mistake too late. The portal—she was in the portal.
Arik. Close to him now, she reached for him but her hand passed through the form. She examined her hand, turning it over, then spotted the shadow of the man.
An illusion?
The shadow turned toward her. She watched as the wind washed over his face and it changed. “Bran,” she whispered in disbelief. Her head swiveled while she searched for something, anything to grab on to. The portal had one use and she had no intention of leaving.
Get out, her brain shouted.
His lips twisted into a cynical sneer. He tilted his head in jaunty satisfaction, snapped his fingers and vanished.
“No,” she yelled. “Arik,” she closed her eyes and screamed in her head, trying to mind-touch him while the wind tore at her.
“Beka,” he boomed.
Her eyes snapped open. She shielded them from the dust and debris and stared at Arik on the other side of the opening. He stood at the high plateau, miles away. His hands were braced on the opening’s edges, which were nothing more than solid streams of whirling wind. He struggled to keep the portal from closing.
“Come.” His voice didn’t allow for any argument.
The wind whipped at her, pushed her back. She tried again. “I can’t. The wind. Keeps. Pushing. Me. Away.” She shoved her staff in front of her and anchored it in the ground. Against the gusting wind, pulled herself toward him.
“A little more, Beka.” He gripped the edge of the portal with one hand and stretched the other out to her. She shoved her hand toward him as far as she could. The tips of their fingers brushed. In a burst of effort he caught the top of her hand, a precarious hold. With a tight grasp she wrapped her fingers around his thumb.
Safe. She wasn’t far now.
She concentrated on his face. The corners of his mouth turned up as he pulled her toward safety. The wind grew stronger, buffeting around them, then changed its path.
Before she could brace herself for the new direction, the gust blasted them. Without a firm grip, her hand began to slip. She pushed through the building panic. His smile slipped. The expression on his face turned to determination. Again her hand slipped until he held her by her fingertips.
He held them fast—crushing them, but that didn’t matter. He had to hold on to her. Every muscle strained. Inch by inch he brought her closer to him. She tried to help him the best way she could. Anchored to the edge of the portal, Arik encouraged her on. But his alternatives were limited. The closer she got to him, the stronger the gale blew. Just a little closer, that’s all she needed for Arik to grab her and get her out of the portal.
The wind exploded from another direction.
The blasting gale pushed her staff away from the opening, across the dirt, cutting an ugly scar in the ground and dragging her away with her staff.
Away from Arik.
Their bond snapped, Arik fell backward, out of the portal. The wind kept them pinned where they were as cold air swooped around the entrance. When at last the wind eased, they stared in horror at the thick sheet of ice that sealed the portal between them.
They fought their way to the frozen sheet. Rebeka’s hands on one side, Arik’s on the other. In desperation they searched for a weakness.
Time was slipping away.
Arik took out his sword and slashed at the ice but he didn’t make any progress. He sheathed his sword and pounded on the ice with his fists.
Rebeka pummeled the ice with her staff. Chunks flew off but nothing weakened it.
Desperate, they hammered away at the icy barrier.
She took notice as Arik moved his hands over the ice. She did the same. His lips moved but she was unable to hear him. He raised his hands in demand. What was he doing?
Lightning struck the ice and turned it fiery hot.
In horror, she stared at the agony etched on his face. She stood by and watched, unable to help him. He pummeled the icy surface with his fists, his knuckles raw and bleeding. She fixed her stare on the runes on his chest. They pulsated in rhythm with his fists.
Small cracks in the ice appeared and his fists flew faster. He flashed her an encouraging glance but all she saw were the deep cuts in his flesh. His blood was everywhere.
Tears slipped down Rebeka’s cheeks. Helpless, his runes kept flashing faster and his heartbeat raced to keep time. She was certain his heart would burst.
She leaned closer to the barrier, her eyes begging him. Stop, she called to him in her mind. He kept on going. She spread her hands on the shield. “Stop,” she screamed, her voice raw with her effort. The vibration and low-pitch moan of the surface made her flinch. She pulled her hands away.
Unsure, she touched the shield again. It was still. The scream, she was certain it caused the tremor. She searched Arik’s face. He wasn’t aware of it. The beat echoing in her head was almost a steady tone. Fear twisted around her heart. His blood stained the barrier. She was certain he would die if he kept this pace. She couldn’t wait.
She gathered her strength and with lightning speed built the chant inside her. When she couldn’t hold it back any longer she let it loose in a grief-stricken scream.
Everything stopped. The wind. His pounding.
They stood facing each other.
“No, Beka. No,” he screamed, his arms spread out across the barrier. She watched the glazed look of despair spread across his face.
A small portion of the shield fractured, then another, and another. The tiny explosions gathered momentum until they built into a frenzy and every inch of the shield was cracked.
Then silence.
Arik spent months trying to open the portal and find Rebeka. When he does he finds how to open the portal he is in 2011 in his manor and Rebeka has no memory of him. He is determined to stay with her and make her fall in love with all over again. When someone is badly hurt, Rebeka reverts to a healing chant her father taught her and remembers her trip into the past and she remembers Arik…
“Hold me. Don’t let me go,” she said as she nuzzled his neck and sank into his strong embrace. “Love me,” she whispered in his ear and felt him shiver. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his lips touching hers—she wanted him to bury himself deep inside her and shout her passion to her world and to his.
They sank to the ground and held each other close. She was afraid to let him go, afraid the emptiness would find her, afraid of losing him, again. With an unending thirst, she focused on his mouth, the shape of his lips, the kisses that they promised.
His hand stroked the side of her body from her breast to her thigh, claiming it for himself. She stretched and molded her body to the contours of his, the way he liked. One stroke of her breast and she tugged on his shirt. He didn’t hesitate. He obliged her and pulled it off. Her hand played down the familiar hard planes of his chest. Her eyes widened when she saw the marks. His back and chest were covered with intricate symbols. How hadn’t she seen them before? “These weren’t here.” She traced them with her finger.
He stopped her hand and brought it to his lips. “For six months I tried to find you. He tilted her face to his. She closed her eyes and felt the tingling traces of Dark Magick that thrummed around him.
She moved away, a concerned expression on her face. “What have you done?”
He pulled her back into his arms. “I did whatever was necessary. Now be still and let me hold you.” She settled against him.
“I’ve tried to remember holding you, feeling you before I love you, reliving every moment with you.”
She put her head on his shoulder. He opened her nightshirt and stroked the top of her chest then, with trembling hands, touched her breasts. A low moan escaped her lips. She tipped her face to see his eyes.
“Why are your eyes closed?” she asked.
“I’m seeing if you are as I remember.” He laughed softly.
“And?”
“Better,” he said as he bent and kissed each breast.
She pulled his head away and kissed him. He ignited a flame inside her that set her on fire. A delicious shudder pulsed through her.
The muscles on his chest danced as her fingers lightly traced the runes. “This rune is for the Great Mother.” Her finger poised over the sign. “Thank you, Great Mother,” she said as her lips brushed against his skin. She watched it deckle in gooseflesh. Her finger moved on. “This is our sign.” Encouraged by the hooded passion she saw in his eyes, she kissed the rune and moved on. The tips of her fingers traced down his chest. “Here it is again.” The rune was below his navel. Another kiss. Her fingers trailed down further.
He pulled her up and rolled on top of her. Her body instinctively arched against his. “You are mine.” His warm breath brushed against her face. Two heartbeats passed. “Do you hear me? You’re mine,” he said more urgently.
“Yes.” Her voice was an intimate whisper. His lips tugged into a sideways grin.
It was the smile that made her bones go limp. It was his magick.
“Forever,” was all he said as he settled between her legs. Every inch of him was hard and ready. She focused on his lips while her hands ran over his body. The insistent need to touch him consumed her.
“Love me, Arik. Now.” She wanted to taste him, smell him, feel him.
He crossed the centuries to find her…
For months Lord Arik has been trying to find the right combination of runes to create the precise spell to rescue his wife, Rebeka, but the druid knight will soon discover that reaching her four hundred years in the future is only the beginning of his quest. He arrives in the 21st century to find her memory of him erased, his legacy on the brink of destruction, and traces of dark magick at every turn.
A threat has followed…
Bran, the dark druid, is more determined than ever to get his revenge. His evil has spread across the centuries. Arik will lose all. Time is his weapon, and he’s made sure his plan leaves no one dear to Arik, in past or present, safe from the destruction.
But their enemy has overlooked the strongest magick of all…
Professor Rebeka Tyler is dealing with more than just a faulty memory. Ownership of Fayne Manor, her home, has been called into question. Convenient accidents begin happening putting those she cares for in the line of fire. And then there’s the unexpected arrival of a strange man dressed like he belonged in a medieval fair—a man who somehow is always around when needed, and always on her mind. She doesn’t know who to trust. But one thing is certain. Her family line and manor have survived for over eleven centuries. She won’t let them fall, not on her watch… in any century.
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About the Author:
RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical adventures from the shores of medieval Scotland to the cobblestone streets of Regency London. Within the pages, you’ll discover ‘edge-of-your-seat’ suspense, mind-boggling drama, and heart-melting emotions featuring strong women and the men who deserve them. She currently has four historical series: The Druid Knight, The Stelton Legacy, and The Ladies of Sommer-by-the-Sea, and she participates in The Connected World of The Pirates of Britannia.
Ruth lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms, and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at a major international bank where she was a product/marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. Grab your favorite cup of tea, or an ale if you prefer, and join her heroes and heroines as they race across the pages to find their happily ever after. Ruth hopes her stories are your next favorite adventures!
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