She faces justice, truth, and a Laird’s vengeance
From Ashe Barker: The Laird and the Sassenach is a story of a
man with justice to mete out, and a dilemma to face. Sometimes the truth seems
to stare us in the face, at other times it may be not so clear where the blame
lies. In the middle ages, of course, matters of crime and punishment, guilt or
innocence were simple enough. The social hierarchies of the time placed
authority and power in few hands and there were no qualifications required
which entitled the privileged to rule. They were just handed the job and the
common folk had to hope their leaders would turn out to be wise and fair.
Sometimes they got lucky, and The Laird
and the Sassenach is a story of one such instance.
I love to write
historical stories. I am especially drawn to Highland fantasies, and why not?
Who can resist the soaring Scottish scenery and sexy men in kilts. I find
myself fascinated by that heady cocktail of honour and lawlessness, the
atmospheric sensuality of the time and the way an all-powerful laird will
reveal his soft centre just when it matters. But the Sassenach in the story
also has her little quirks and faces some unique challenges. And look out for
an unlikely star of the show. Freya the wolfhound has her part to play and I
absolutely adored her.
I hope readers
enjoy The Laird and the Sassenach as
much as I loved writing it
Excerpt:
“I shall have to
trouble you to remove your gown, Roselyn. And your shift. I require you naked
to the waist.”
Her eyes darkened
to a shade close to violet. “I cannot. You cannot ask that of me.”
“I am not asking.
It is not a request, it is a command. You will remove your clothing, or I shall
summon a couple of my guards and they will remove it for you.” He stood and
reached for her thin shoulder. Apart from offering her his arm to lead her into
the solar this was the first time he had touched her and he was oddly pleased
that despite her predicament and obvious fear she did not shrink away from him.
He squeezed gently. “I do not intend to harm you, Roselyn, and this will be
easier for you if just the two of us are present. If you require assistance I
shall be pleased to aid you.”
She turned her
face in his direction. “You really believe there might still be bruises.”
“It is possible,
aye. Shall we find out?” He deliberately gentled his tone, sensing that she was
willing to do even this if it would help to bolster her case.
There was a brief
pause. She chewed on her lower lip and twisted her fingers nervously. Moments
passed, then she raised her face to grant him a tremulous smile. “Very well, my
lord. Thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“For your offer
of aid. I believe I shall require it for my hands are shaking.”
Fuck. He took no pleasure in that knowledge, though why he should care was
beyond him. Blair turned her to face him and with a few deft movements untied
the laces which held her kirtle closed at the neck. The garment was simple
enough, and practical. He was glad of that as he separated the two halves and
slid it off her shoulders and down her arms. Beneath she wore just a woollen
leine, loose enough not to require any fastenings. The lower portion
disappeared into the skirts of her kirtle, still held at the waist by her belt
made of plaited leather. Blair loosened the belt to free the fabric beneath,
then pulled the leine up out of the confines of her outer clothing. Despite her
acquiescence Roselyn made a grab for the garment as he started to lift it
higher.
Blair paused.
“Roselyn?”
She released her
grip on the soft wool and raised her arms obediently in order to allow him to
draw it over her head. She was naked beneath.
She was his
enemy, but that was no reason not to speak his mind. Blair made no pretence of
not observing what was displayed before him.
“You are quite
lovely, Lady Roselyn.”
She gulped and
laid her hands over the plump mounds. “Please…” she whispered.
He leaned in to
murmur in her ear. “Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm here. I will touch you
now, and if I hurt you, you must say so. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her
lovely eyes were closed and she continued to worry her lower lip between her
small white teeth. Despite his reassurances she was plainly terrified. The view
was delightful but even so he opted to conclude their business as quickly as he
might.
“Turn to the
right, if you please, to better catch the light from the window.” Not that he
particularly required the benefit of improved illumination; the yellows and
faint purplish smudges on her skin were plain to see. Blair was familiar with
injuries acquired in battle and in training. He had sustained enough himself
and had no difficulty in recognising the remnants of a severe battering. Both
sides of her slender torso were similarly marked from just below her arms
almost to her waist. He could not accurately date the original attack, but saw
no cause to dispute her account of it.
He stroked the
contours of her ribs on her left side, careful to exert no pressure. Even so,
she winced. “Does it still pain ye, lass?”
“Your hands are
cold, my lord.”
Blair chuckled.
“Ah, I apologise.” He stepped around to better examine the right side also.
This time when he laid his fingers on her she remained still.
“Are there
bruises, my lord?”
“Aye, there are.”
“Then this will
prove my account? You believe me?”
“It helps,
without doubt. ‘Tis a pity we have no witness to support your story, though I
daresay I could dispatch men to Kelso to question the Reverend Mother.”
“You would do
that?”
He was surprised
to realise that he would. Indeed he would, for he found he badly wanted to
prove the mitigating circumstances which might help excuse Lady Roselyn’s
actions. He was not a fool, Blair knew his people well. He would have to
present convincing evidence of coercion in order to satisfy the members of Clan
McGregor who would demand retribution for the deaths of their kinsfolk. As
matters stood they would expect him to hang the English wench and would
consider that a merciful end. It might yet come to that, but despite his
earlier intentions he now found he had no real stomach for heaping his
vengeance upon this fragile wench.
Blurb:
After her half-brother attacks the
kinsmen of Blair McGregor, Lady Roselyn of Etal is brought before the stern
highland laird to answer for her reluctant, unwitting role in the crime. Once
she has told her story, she throws herself at his mercy.
Blair soon realizes that Roselyn is
as much a victim of her half-brother as anyone, but his people’s demands for
justice cannot be ignored entirely, so he strips the young Englishwoman bare
and chastises her firmly with a switch applied to her naked backside.
The painful, humiliating punishment
both assuages Roselyn’s guilt and leaves her yearning to be even more
thoroughly mastered by the handsome laird. Though Blair makes it clear that she
is free to return home, she instead chooses to remain with the him in his
castle… and in his bed. Their passion soon blossoms into romance, but can the
highlander protect his beautiful Sassenach when the villain who caused them
both so much pain tries to tear her away from him?
Publisher’s Note: The Laird and the Sassenach includes
spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy
this book.
Buy Links:
About the Author:
USA Today
best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many
years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better.
But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.
Ashe tends to
draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and
characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky
character, any of these can spark a story idea.
Ashe lives in the
North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional
flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing –
which is not very often these days - her time is divided between her role as
taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs,
tortoises. And a very grumpy
cockatiel.
At the last count
Ashe had over forty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of
the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and
occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably
feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more
than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose
herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.
Ashe has a pile
of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the
most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.
Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are
her social media links:
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