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When Angus Og MacDonald, Lord of Islay agrees to harbor Robert the Bruce from the clutches of King Edward, he becomes an outlaw of the English crown. They sail to Ireland, seeking support from kin but are forced to flee for their lives. As Angus escapes, it is not a man he finds hidden in his birlinn. A wee wisp of a lass attacks like a screaming banshee with a battle axe in her hands. Then the wrath of God erupts in a violent storm, smashing the boat to smithereens. Now, Angus fights for survival, hell bent on saving them both.
Anya O’Cahan awakes half drowned in a tiny chapel on a deserted isle with none other than Fairhair, the man with the devil’s heart, the vile brother of the beast who killed her Da. Terrified out of her wits, she does everything in her power to escape the Highlander’s clutches. But Anya’s attempts are thwarted by the cunning, far too beautiful lord. Worse, Angus takes her before the King of Scots who seizes her as a political prisoner and thrusts her into the care of none other than Fairhair himself. Will this union of two hated rivals plagued by unwanted and uncanny attraction erupt in passion or war?
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Historical / ScottishThis book is set to release on March 9th, 2021. It is the second book in The King's Outlaws series, translated into Portugese on Babelcube.
Chapter One
The Battle of Loch Ryan, 10th February, the year of our Lord, 1307
“Retreat!” Angus bellowed above the thunderous tumult of battle. Swords clashed, barbed maces thudded into iron mail while dying men shrieked in a fight no mortal could win. Sidestepping toward the shore, he thrust out his shield, stopping an attacker with the deadly spike jutting from its center. Within his next heartbeat, Angus drove his sword into the gullet of another. “To the boats!”
“They outnumber us ten to one,” shouted Raghnall, still fighting like a man crazed.
“Go now,” Angus ordered, as he cut down another, creating a gap for his men to escape. “Raghnall, I commanded ye to withdraw!”
The man-at-arms leapt in front of Angus, fending off the army as the gap closed. “Not until ye’re aboard, m’lord.”
Slinging his targe to his back, Angus grasped the man’s plaid and dragged him into the surf. “There are too many of them and I’ll not see ye killed this day.”
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
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Portuguese
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Fernanda Gonçalves
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Talía García
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