For This Knight Only - by Barbara Bettis

I'm thrilled to have Barbara Bettis visiting my blog today to discuss her upcoming release. Barbara is one of those authors who is ALWAYS there for others. She's always helping and mentoring other authors and I'm very thankful to have "met" her in the rose garden (The Wild Rose Press).

Thanks for hosting me today, J.C. I’m eagerly looking forward to March 18 for the release of my new medieval, FOR THIS KNIGHT ONLY. For those familiar with my other three books, you’ll recognize the h/h—Roark and Alyss. I love their story and I’m so happy it’s finally here.

Good news—until March 18, the book is on PRE-ORDER SALE for 99 cents.

And you’re all invited to my Facebook party from 8-11 Eastern tonight to celebrate the book’s upcoming release. Great guest authors, contests, and giveaways. Hope to see you there!

Here’s a bit from the book.

He’ll do anything for land, even marry her; she’ll do anything for her people, except marry him.  If only either had a choice.  It’s a marriage only love can save.

Sir Roark will do anything to gain land, even beguile an unwilling lady into marriage. He knows she’s much better off with a man to take control of her besieged castle, to say nothing of her desirable person. But it isn’t long before he discovers that, although her eyes sparkle like sunlight on sea waves, her stubbornness alone could have defeated Saladin.  

Lady Alyss is determined to hold her family’s castle, protect her people, and preserve her freedom— until her brother’s dying wish binds her to a stranger. Still, she’ll allow no rugged, over-confident, appealing knight to usurp her authority, even if she must wed him. Especially since he thinks a lady’s duties begin and end with directing servants. Alyss has a few surprises for her new all-too-tempting lord.

But when a common enemy threatens everything, Roark and Alyss face a startling revelation. Without love, neither land nor freedom matters.

Pre-order TODAY: 

https://amzn.to/2Xlzynj

Excerpt:

     Archers on the wall had been warned not to shoot if trouble arose for fear of hitting

their own men in the dark, so there would be no help there. Alyss grasped Baldwin’s arm. She

couldn’t let Roark and the others face an unknown force alone.

     She motioned to the half-dozen men-at-arms left guarding the inside gate. They snapped alert, grabbed their weapons. Clustered at the door, the soldiers waited as Baldwin threw the bolt.

Before he could open it, a quick three slaps sounded.

     “Roark,” Alyss whispered, tense as the door opened a crack, then wider. Barnard dragged an unconscious Alain, followed by the pair of staggering men-at-arms. All four were bleeding. Where was Roark?

     Alyss ran to Alain’s side. His head dripped blood.

     “Take him to the hall,” she ordered Bernard, then stopped him. “Where are you hurt?”

     He shrugged his shoulder beneath a torn tunic sleeve. “I’ll do, my lady.”

     She directed the other men inside where women were waiting to treat any injuries. When she turned, she saw Lady Isobel and Betts in the middle of the bailey. Betts’s husband was one of the new men-at-arms who accompanied the knights.

     Roark hadn’t returned. No matter his orders, she wasn’t about to let him fight out there all alone. Perhaps to die. Alyss grasped a long knife and hurried to the partially open door.

     Before she could slip out, Baldwin jumped back. Roark stumbled in. The door slammed closed and the heavy bolt shot.

     Alyss flew to his side and slipped her arm around his waist. Blood covered his tunic, but she couldn’t see where it came from. His squire, Ralf, appeared his other side, taking the sword and offering support. Roark stopped, bracing himself on their shoulders.

     “They were waiting for us,” he panted. “We have a traitor.”

A former health insurance claims adjuster, a former journalist, a former journalism and English professor, Barbara Bettis plans never to be a “former” author. Now retired, Barb lives in Missouri where she writes, edits for others, and spends as much time as possible with grandchildren, who are growing up much too quickly.

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