Praise forMargaret Moore
âMs Moore transports her readers to a fascinating time period, vividly bringing to life a Scottish medieval castle and the inhabitants within.â
âRomance Reviews Today on Lord of Dunkeathe
âThis captivating adventure of thirteenth-century Scotland kept me enthralled from beginning to end. Itâs a keeper!â
âRomance Junkies on Bride of Lochbarr
âFans of the genre will enjoy another journey into the past with Margaret Moore.â
âRomantic Times BOOKclub
âMs Mooreâ¦will make your mind dream of knights in shining armour.â
âRendezvous
âWhen it comes to excellence in historical romance books, no one provides the audience with more than the award-winning Ms Moore.â
âUnder the Covers
âMargaret Moore is a master storyteller who has the uncanny ability to develop new twists on old themes.â
âAffaire de Coeur
â[Margaret Mooreâs] writing captivates, spellbinds, taking a reader away on a whirlwind of emotion and intrigue until you just canât wait to see how it all turns out.â
âromancereaderatheart.com
âIf youâre looking for a fix for your medieval historical romance need, then grab hold of a copy of awardwinning author Margaret Mooreâs The Unwilling Bride and do not let go!â
âaromancereview.com
Lord Armand was close, much too close.
She could hear his breathing and feel the heat from his body as he stood behind her. She could sense his powerful muscles held in check. She could discern the scent of his warriorâs body, of the soap he used before he shaved, of his woollen clothes and leather belt and boots.
The closest she had ever been to a man before was during a meal, when touch was by accident or conscious design. She could imagine all too well what the king would do if he found himself in Lord Armandâs place. He, however, continued to stand perfectly still and made no attempt to touch her.
Her ears strained to hear anything from outside; all was silent. Perhaps it was safe to go out. Adelaide slowly put her hand on the latch, determined to leave, until he covered it with his own.
âNot yet,â he whispered in her ear. âThey may come back.â
She couldnât disagree, even though it was a torment having Armand so close behind her, his hand slipping over hers like a caressâ¦
Award-winning author Margaret Moore began her career at the age of eight, when she and a friend concocted stories featuring a lovely damsel and a handsome, misunderstood thief nicknamed âThe Red Sheikhâ. Unknowingly pursuing her destiny, Margaret graduated with distinction from the University of Toronto, Canada. She has been a Leading Wren in the Royal Canadian Naval Reserve, an award-winning public speaker, a member of an archery team, and a student of fencing and ballroom dancing. She has also worked for every major department store chain in Canada.
Margaret lives in Toronto, Ontario, with her husband of over twenty-five years. Her two children have grown up understanding that itâs part of their motherâs job to discuss non-existent people and their problems. When not writing, Margaret updates her blog and website at www.margaretmoore.com
With many thanks to the veterinarians and staff of the Guildcrest Cat Hospital for their gentle kindness during Tommyâs final days, for their continuing excellent care of Eeky and âthe boysâ and for the opportunity to add Luis and The Count to our family.
Wiltshire, 1204
âKEEP YOUR EYES open, Bert,â the burly foot soldier ordered his younger comrade-in-arms at the gate of Ludgershall Castle. âI donât like the looks oâthis fellow.â
Bert, skinny and with spots on his youthful face, stopped watching the approaching rider to regard Godwin with surprise. âHeâs all by himself, ainât he? He canât be thinking oâ attacking this castle single-handed. Heâd have to be mad when weâre up to our arses in soldiers with the king stayinâ here.â
âFools and madmen have caused trouble before this,â Godwin warned, âand this knight looks like he could finish off a dozen men before he fell.â
âHow dâyou know heâs a knight?â Bert asked. âWhereâs his men? His squire? His page? Heâs got no servants or baggage. Heâs probably another one of them routiers the kingâs hired.â
Bert spat in disgust. Like most soldiers bound to his lord by land and loyalty, he detested mercenaries, and those King John employed were the worst of the lot.
Godwin shook his head. âNot him. Look at the way heâs sittinâ that horse. The nag ainât much, but only a well-trained knight rides like that, as if heâs as comfortable in the saddle as a lady at her sewing. And heâs got mail on, ainât he? And a sword, and unless Iâm going blind, thatâs a mace tied to his saddle.â
âPlenty of men carry maces,â Bert replied, âand sit up straight when they ride. Besides, what kind of horse is that for a knight? It ought to be pullinâ a hayrick. His surcoatâs seen better days, too. And look at his hairâwhat knight has hair down to his shoulders? Fella looks more like a Viking or one of them Scots from the north.â