Warrior Of Fire
A warrior with fire in his soul!Fleeing an unwanted betrothal to the cruel King, Lady Carice knows her days are numbered. She has never felt desirable until she meets Norman soldier Raine de Garenne, and soon she longs to experience passion – if only for one night…Aiding beautiful Carice’s escape jeopardises Raine’s mission, for if he does not kill the King his sisters will pay the price. And as each step towards his goal brings him closer to betraying Carice he knows he’ll have to make a choice.His duty…or his heart.Warriors of IrelandFighting for honour and for love
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Warriors of Ireland
Fighting for honour and for love
In this powerful new duet by Michelle Willingham step back in time to medieval Ireland, where proud men were willing to die for honour and for the ones they lovedâalthough not without a fight!
Fans of The MacEgan Brothers mini-series will meet some familiar faces along the way, but prepare to have your hearts captured by two new fierce warriors!
Meet Killian MacDubh in
Warrior of Ice
And meet Raine de Garenne in
Warrior of Fire
Both stories available now!
Warrior of Fire continues the Beauty and the Beast theme, with a beautiful woman seeking shelter in a ruined abbey. Carice Faoilin is dying, but she will stop at nothing to break free of an unwanted marriageâeven if it means striking a bargain with a Norman beast.
Raine de Garenne is a haunted man, tormented by his past ⦠and yet Carice awakens a burning desire that sears him to the bone.
I hope youâll enjoy this forbidden love story between a woman craving freedom and a man forced to betray her. Also look for the first book in this mini-series, Warrior of Ice, which tells the story of Lady Taryn and Killian MacDubh, Cariceâs âadoptedâ brother.
If youâd like me to email you when I have a new book out, please visit my website at michellewillingham.com to sign up for my newsletter. You can also learn more about my other historical romances and see photos of my trips to Ireland.
RITA® Award finalist MICHELLE WILLINGHAM has written over twenty historical romances, novellas and short stories. Currently she lives in south-eastern Virginia with her husband and children. When sheâs not writing Michelle enjoys reading, baking and avoiding exercise at all costs. Visit her website at: michellewillingham.com
For Lori Yankoski, with thanks for being a good friend and for sharing the gift of your music.
Contents
Ireland, 1172
Carice Faoilin was not afraid to die.
She had been sick for so long, she didnât know how it felt to be an ordinary woman any more. She didnât remember what it was to awaken without pain, to walk in the sunlight and enjoy each day as it was given. Most days, she stared at the walls, confined to her bed because she was too weak to move.
Until now.
In a matter of days, soldiers had invaded her home, demanding that she fulfil her delayed betrothal contract. She was ordered to accompany them to wed the High King of Ãireann, Rory à Connor. The Ard-Righ had a brutal reputation, and few women wanted to wed him, herself included.
Perhaps she should have gone meekly, obeying the High Kingâs orders as a woman should. But then, Carice had never been the obedient sort. She wouldnât have agreed to the betrothal, had her ambitious father given her a choice.
She was not going to lie back and offer herself up as the sacrificial lambâeven if this escape attempt killed her. And it very well might.
Each footstep felt leaden as she struggled to disappear into the dark forest. Sheâd chosen a long branch to use as a walking stick while she made her escape. A small voice inside her warned her, You donât have the strength to reach shelter. Youâre going to die tonight.
She silenced the voice. She had lived with the prospect of dying for so long, what did it matter any more? Worrying about it wouldnât change anything. Instead, she preferred to fight for every breath, living each day as if it were her last.
Although today might be her last day if she didnât find shelter soon.
With every step she took, the air seemed to grow colder. There was snow upon the breath of the wind, and Carice huddled within her cloak, leaning heavily upon the staff. Her feet were half-frozen, and her fingers were numb. She didnât know how long sheâd been walking, but she prayed to find a warm place to sleep. Please let there be shelter somewhere close by.
Her prayer was answered when she reached the far side of the forest and ventured into an open field. Just near the horizon, the moon illuminated a fortress with a tall limestone wall surrounding it.
When she drew closer, she realised it was an abbey, not a fortress. Never had she visited this place, though it was only a few daysâ journey from Carrickmeath, her home. But tonight, it was her best hope for shelter.
I donât know if I can make it that far, her body reasoned. Every muscle in her body ached, she was starving, and the distance appeared vast.
If you donât keep going, youâll freeze, her brain reminded her. And death by freezing didnât sound very pleasant. She had to keep moving, especially since sheâd made it this far.
Carice continued walking across the snowy meadow, counting the steps as she did. Though her legs were shaking from exertion, she forced herself to keep going. While she walked, she hoped that the monks who dwelled within the abbey would grant her a place to sleep and a warm fire. Or, at the very least, a place to collapse from exhaustion.
