The King's Favorite is a new, never-before published book--the first of a new series by New York Times Bestselling author Tanya Anne Crosby.
Sometimes, love is all the magic you need...
Fearing her "gifts" will be used to defeat her sister Matilda, Elspeth Pendragon escapes the Black Mountain priory that has sheltered her and her sisters since their father's death, only to find herself indebted to, of all men, a Scotsman, whose loyalties are in question...
Left to face the wrath of a new sovereign, Malcom Scott is forced to swear fealty to Stephen of Blois in order to keep the castle he won by slaying his own grandfather. But having done that, he's pitted himself against Scotia, and even his own sire. But even as he realizes there's no turning back, the late King's favorite illegitimate daughter may offer him more than he ever anticipated.
"Tanya Anne Crosby is a master of her genre." -Internationally Bestselling Author, Laurin Wittig
"Tanya Anne Crosby returns to writing historical fiction as only she can: superbly and beautifully...." - Suzan Tisdale, bestselling author of Rowan's Lady
"Tanya Anne Crosby builds worlds that immediately draw you in, with multi-dimensional characters and rich, detailed story lines. Her stories are absolutely riveting." -Kathryn Le Veque, USA Today Bestselling Author & Amazon All-Star Author
The gates were open now… waiting… still he lingered. In truth, the best of all scenarios had occurred, and still, somehow, inexplicably, he felt a surge of loss in his heart.
Had he hoped to fight today, if only to prove himself?
Had he wanted his father to say, ‘Good show, son’?
Perhaps, after all, he had but longed for a clap on the back, and a bit of reassurance that all was not lost?
By God, he was old enough to choose his own path. He didn’t need his father’s approval, and so it seemed he wasn’t going to get it…
“Art certain, mother? he asked—one last time. If she had a mind to, now would be the time to change her mind. Once he took possession of Aldergh, nothing would be the same.
“You are my son,” she reassured, mistaking his question.
With a steel glint in his eyes, his father said, “Let us be done.”
Malcom straightened his spine, raising his banner. “Aye,” he said. “Let us be done.” And then, without a word, he spurred his mount forward, hardening his heart.
Dressed in his grandfather’s cloak, and wearing a dead man’s sigil, he surged ahead of the troops, looking like a king in his own right and carrying with him all the fury of the north.
