It’s Saturday – great time to unwind a little from the hectic week and read. My latest, Ronan’s Woman, is out and just $1.99 at all the sites (Amazon, All Romance, Bookstrand and Barnes and Noble. I’ll share the blurb and excerpt in just a moment but first I’d like to share my news – just signed a contract for another Ronan story (the second of several!!) – Ronan’s Life from Rebel Ink Press. It’ll release on St. Patrick’s Day in March – I’m excited and delighted.
After surviving the Irish famines, Ronan O’Neill’s spent his time since arriving in America fighting to earn his keep. His bare knuckles, no holds bar style may put food into his belly but a fight in a tiny Ozarks settlement brings more than he expected. Not only is he injured, he meets a woman, Jane, who offers to tend his wounds and brings him home. Bleeding, aching, and with no place else to go, Ronan agrees to the pretty woman’s request. Although she proves to be an outcast, she’s also a widow with a few fey ways and a connection to him he can’t begin to understand. As he heals, he realizes he might – after so long – find his way home.
With his feet planted on the thick green grass heavy with clover, Ronan O’Neill balled his hands into tight fists and prepared to take on his opponent. Murmurs from the gathered crowd echoed in his ears but beyond the noise he heard birds singing in the trees at the edge of the grounds. Overhead the noon sun shone down over the gathering. Somewhere Ronan caught the sweet scent of honeysuckle still in blossom in early September, stronger than his own rank stench of sweat and anxiety. No matter how many times he fought or how well he put up a mask of bravado Ronan always tasted fear until the first punch. Then blood lust, battle instinct, rose up and he thought about nothing else.
Just as the first contender stepped forward, Ronan saw the woman. She stood apart from the others with a worn shawl across her shoulders and her feet bare. He noticed her dark hair was tamed into a heavy braid descending past her knees. When her dark eyes met his, he noted her pretty face. Few women graced the throng with their presence and those who did kept close to their men, but this one stood alone. And unlike the others, she didn’t wear a sunbonnet or hat of any kind. He thought she smiled at him, a sweet brief expression, and he inclined his head in a brief nod to acknowledge it.