Who will protect her from herself? Shoney's lightning speed with a bow captures Ronan by surprise, and their chance meeting ends with him lying unconscious at the bottom of a ravine. When he awakens, he cannot rid his mind of her startling beauty, her valor, or the secret fear he glimpsed in her steel eyes. He vows to find her, but as the mysteries of her identity unfold, his courage and heart are tested as never before.

    Until then, Martha must attempt to fit into medieval society, avoid the Evil Earl and his minions, and learn how to trust her heart again.

    Only the priests and priestesses of the ancient martial orders have prevented the utter destruction of their kind. But a newly arisen ruler, the Dark Queen, seeks to destroy the ages-old equilibrium. All that stands before her is a child of prophecy, a child destined to unite their race. A child the Dark Queen must kill at any cost...

    “I, afraid of a Lowland traitoress, who in the bargain, I might remind you, is my captive and in chains? You jest, mistress!” “Then kiss me.” “Nae.” Ranald stood, gazing down at her, his dark eyes musing. “Should I teach ye the rudiments of lovemaking, do ye still think ye can make me love ye?” “I will yet do it.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his hard mouth. When he did not respond, Enya moved back a step and stared at him with an unnamed fear. “’Tis your blood that runs cold.” “Then heat it. Tonight. I tire of empty promises.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The mighty Kincairns, once a powerful Highland clan, were now rebels out to destroy the conquering British invaders. Ranald Kincairn, new chieftain of the rebels vowed to revenge the murder of his brothers and his sister’s ruination. And in the depth of night, he stole the virgin bride of his cunning and ruthless foe with the intent to breed her with Scots bairns and then destroy her soul. But he had not counted on the firebrand that was his enemy’s bride, Enya of the Afton House. Before the laird could bring low the prisoner of his hatred, Enya vowed she would have him bowing down as her captive. Her captive of love.

    And he knew just the way. He would take his own captive -- Amberlie de Fontaine, the brown-eyed Norman beauty who was now lady of his former keep. And once he had stolen her away, he would not scruple over stealing a fiery kiss or two from this dark and enchanting hostage...He was her only desire...Amberlie knew she should despise Tedric of Woodrose. After all, he had kidnapped her, and worse, it was almost certainly Tedric who had killed her husband in one of his many attempts to regain his land. But the tall, blond Saxon warrior was not the savage she had expected. And try as she might, it was not hate but passion she felt in his presence; passion that stirred her as never before. He had taken her by force, but she would give herself freely to the sweet ecstasy of his tempestuous embrace...