WE'VE GOT NEW DIGS!

I am very happy to announce that I now have an official website and blog :D

You can stay up to date at either location.

My website: www.suzantisdale.com

My blog: www.yourcheekywench.com 

So hop on over to either place and check out the new digs and features. Even though they didn't ask me to, I want to give a shout out to Wix.com. Building the new website was super easy, super fast, and lots of fun. I think you'll like it.

Love you all!!
Suzan

Live In One Hour!

Hello everyone! It's been a long day here and even longer night. Tonight's season finale of Game of Thrones left me crying and cursing like a drunken sailor! I won't say why because I don't want to give any spoilers. Suffice it to say, I'm mad as hell at HBO right now. I'll probably blog more about that later, once my anger has subsided a bit!

But on a much lighter, happier note: Saving Moirra's Heart goes live in less than an hour! I did not do a big book release party with this release. But I did start a new Facebook page dedicated to that book and series. Readers are encouraged to stop by, ask questions and leave comments.

I want to thank all of you, my beautiful readers, who continue to offer words of encouragement and love. You're simply the best!!

Please know how much I adore and appreciate all of you!!

Below is a snippet from the first chapter:

Pushing Moirra behind him, Alysander stood to his full height, jaw clenched. “What the bloody hell do ye mean ye’ve come to arrest her?” Questions abounded, blended with his anger that anyone would so unjustly accuse his wife of such an atrocity as murder. ’Twas enough to make his head spin.

The sheriff was unmoved by Alysander’s display of protection. He gave a nod to his men, who immediately dismounted. “Me brother’s body, or what was left of it, was found last eve.”

“What evidence do ye have that my wife killed him?” Alysander challenged, as he kept a close watch on the men slowly approaching.

The sheriff grunted his displeasure at having anyone question his authority. “I don’t need any bloody evidence. I ken she killed him.”

Alysander knew he was sorely outnumbered, and being unarmed did not help his situation. Still, that knowledge did nothing to quell the instinct to protect his wife. When the first man reached out to grab Moirra, Alysander’s fury erupted. He swung out, his fist landing hard on the man’s jaw. He stumbled backward, his eyes wide with stunned surprise. 

In the blink of an eye, Alysander was fighting with such ferocity and fury, he was able to land several punches into the faces and stomachs of the other men. But soon, they had overpowered him and wrestled him to the ground. Moirra’s daughters stood frozen in fear just inside the barn, looks of horror on their faces. Moirra and the girls screamed when the sheriff’s men began to beat Alysander to a bloody mess.

“Stop!” Moirra called out, momentarily frozen in place, so gripped with fear she could not move. “Stop! Yer killin' him!”

The girls raced from the barn, anger alight in their eyes, sgian dubh’s drawn and at the ready.

“Nay!” Moirra screamed at her daughters. “Nay!”

Mariote and her sisters came to an abrupt halt, just steps away from the pile of men. Orabilis apparently hadn’t heard the order to yield, for she stepped forward and kicked one of the men, her boot landing against his ear. Esa wrapped both arms around her littlest sister and pulled her away.

“Almer!” Moirra shouted as she lunged toward the men, pounding their backs with her fists. “Make them stop!”

One of the men rolled Moirra off with a shrug of his shoulders. She lay on her back, covered in sweat and out of breath. Her daughters rushed to her aid, kneeling beside her. Moirra continued to beg for mercy on Alysander’s behalf, tears streaming down her face.

When her words went unheeded, she looked up to Almer. “I’ll go with ye!” She screamed. “Just tell them to stop!”

A triumphant and arrogant smile formed on Almer’s face before he called his men to stop. “That be enough,” he shouted.

The men stood, faces and tunics covered in blood, much of it belonging to Alysander, but some of it their own. Moirra knelt down to look at her husband. His lips were cut and bleeding: both eyes were beginning to swell shut: and bruises covered his face. “Alysander!” she whispered.

He tried to sit but couldn’t. His ribs hurt with each breath he took. “Moirra,” he said as he reached for her hand.

Two men grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to her feet.

“Moirra,” Alysander called out to her. “Moirra!”

The last thing he saw before blackness enveloped him, were the tears streaming down Moirra’s face as the sheriff and his men hauled her away.

Saving Moirra's Heart .... The Prologue

Below is the prologue to Saving Moirra's Heart. I'm almost done!! Just finishing up the last chapter, then the epilogue. I promise NO CLIFF HANGERS!

Alysander woke at dawn with Moirra’s bottom snuggled into his groin. ’Twas surely heaven on earth to wake with her in his arms and not have to lie or pretend anymore. Tenderly, with an arm wrapped protectively around her stomach, he pulled her closer, doing his best not to disturb her slumber.   Yesterday had been an exhausting one, what with the wolves that had attacked Muriale and Orabilis and the fire that destroyed their little home. 

The air in the barn was crisp and smelled of straw and lavender — his wife’s favorite scent. He inhaled deeply with the intent to calm his ardor. It was a mistake. Though they had made love twice last night, having her so close to him and knowing he no longer had to hide his feelings for her, well, that just made him want her all the more. As much as he wanted to roll her over and kiss every square inch of her body, he decided to let her sleep. Knowing that they had long days ahead, she would need her rest. 

His heart felt much lighter now that their daughters knew the truth. Aye, they were his daughters now, no matter what blood might run through their veins and he’d defy anyone to tell him different. His daughters were in the loft, undoubtedly still asleep in the makeshift quarters. Alysander looked forward to rebuilding the cottage and getting everyone out of the barn. On top of having to build a new cottage, they would also need to begin the harvest in a few days. 

For the tiniest moment, he thought of reaching out to his father for help, but quickly dismissed the idea. Nay, his father would be of no help to him, for he still blamed the death of his favorite son on his least favorite son — Alysander. He had no doubt the man would let him starve to death before he lifted a finger to help him. He also knew it wouldn’t matter one bit that he had turned his life around, had married, and was now the proud father of four beautiful girls. 

With a sigh of resignation, he pulled the blankets up around his wife’s shoulders, and quietly rolled away. He pulled on tunic and trews, laced up his boots, and stepped away from the bed. He had taken no more than two steps away when he caught sight of Orabilis. The child was curled into a ball on the pallet next to Wulver, with one hand resting on the dog’s neck. Aye, she was a stubborn child but he could not blame her for wanting to care for the dog that had saved her life, as well as her sister’s.

He stepped out of the room, found a spare blanket amongst items people had left the night before. Carefully, he draped it over Orabilis and breathed a sigh of relief when Wulver lifted his head and looked at him. He sent a silent prayer up to God before leaving the barn. 

Smoke from their destroyed cottage still lingered in the crisp morning air. Morning dew immediately formed on his skin making him shiver. For now, the fire pit Moirra used to do laundry would have to suffice as a makeshift kitchen. Soon, Alysander had a nice fire going and water heating. 

He was able to find a few cooking pots inside the rubble of the burned out cottage. After scouring them thoroughly, they were as good as new. Going through some of the foodstuffs neighbors had thoughtfully brought to them last night, he set about making breakfast for his women. The smell of eggs and sausage frying made its way to the barn and he soon heard the women within shuffling around and readying themselves for the day ahead.

Moirra appeared in the doorway of the barn, looking every bit as beautiful as Aphrodite herself. Her hair was mussed and fell down her back in loose waves, still looking quite sleepy as she yawned and pulled her shawl around her shoulders. Her eyes searched the yard, and when they fell upon Alysander, a most brilliant smile came to her face. His heart slammed against his chest, his manhood twitched and his mouth went dry. God’s teeth the woman is magnificent. 

“Good morn to ye, husband,” she said as she crossed the yard, the smile growing with each step she took. 

Alysander swallowed hard as he fought the urge to take her back inside and make love to her again and again.

“Good morn—” his voice caught in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. “Good morn to ye, wife,” he said with a smile. 

Moirra came to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I didna like wakin’ up alone,” she said against his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head and returned her hug.

“But I did like wakin’ up to the smell of eggs and sausage,” she said as she pulled away. Looking into his eyes, she continued to smile. God above, he would never tire of looking at that smile.

“I do believe I told ye once that I know how to cook,” he reminded her. 

“Aye, and ye do yer own laundry as well,” she said playfully. “A man who cooks and cleans without complaint makes me heart go all aflutter. And it makes me want to take ye back up to the loft and have my way with ye.”

He swallowed again and was about to tell her she could do that anytime she wished when the sound of approaching horses drew his attention away. 

Instinct warned that ’twasn’t a social call that brought the five mounted men into Moirra’s yard. The two whoresons who had tried to attack Mariote, along with three men Alysander had never seen before, came bounding down the small incline and pulled their horses to a stop.

Alysander heard Moirra’s gasp as she stood behind him. It was quickly followed by a flurry of activity inside the barn. Alysander could only assume the girls were either taking up arms or were planning to hide. Knowing him as they did, he imagined it was the former. 

A thin man, very much resembling a weasel with unusually large ears, brought his horse to within a few feet of Moirra’s door. His gray brown beard hung to the middle of his chest, while his hair was cut very close to his scalp. A hawkish nose sat between a pair of beady eyes. The hair on Alysander’s nape stood up. Instantly, he did not like the man who stared down at him as if Alysander were some disgusting creature. 

“I see ye hidin’, Moirra Wilgart,” the man said, looking and sounding perturbed. 

Moirra huffed and came to stand beside Alysander. “Me name is Moirra McCallum.”

The man huffed derisively and shook his head. “Be this yer latest victim?” he asked, referring to Alysander. 

Moirra started to give the man a piece of her mind, but Alysander stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. “Who are ye?” 

“I be Moirra’s brother-in-law, Almer Wilgart.”

“Ye are no’ me brother-in-law,” Moirra ground out. 

“Ye were married to me brother,” Almer said through gritted teeth.

“Nay! I was no’. ’Twas a handfastin’ and ye ken it as well as anyone else.” She looked then to Alysander. “This is the Sheriff of Glenkirby, and aye, he is Delmar Wilgart’s brother.” 

Alysander never took an eye from any of the men. He gave a slight nod as if he understood completely — which he did not — before asking why they were here. 

“I’ve come to arrest Moirra for the murder of me brother, Delmar Wilgart.”

You can pre-order your copy of Saving Moirra's Heart at Amazon and iBooks for only 99 cents.