If he knew how to stop this…he would
”Callm would sooner cut off your head, than ask politely that you get the hell out of his glen. Their relationship, a brilliant play of slippery silk against a roughly forged sword.
Kara plumbs her inner depths for ice and stone. She must. But then there is the fire, ignited by Callm, which frazzles the both of them. The sex is raw, the sex is scorching, it is never gratuitous, it is always real.’ Incy Black Entangled author.
‘The plight of Kara and Callm is dire, the world they live in bleak, but the strength and humor they show, as well as the tender way their fledgling hopes and dreams of happiness are written, kept me glued to the pages, turning them one after another and never wanting the story to end. ‘ Book Lover Amazon.Ca.
‘I read this heart stopping book feeling every bit of strain of the choices she’s forced to make, the way she has to survive.
And Callm, with a dead heart and a soul he assumed he’d long since sold to the devil, is as terrifying as he is intriguing. A man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill, but also a man with a level of tenderness he had no idea he could even possess, quickly burrowed into my heart. The author dragged me into a world where life isn’t lived, it’s a fight just to breathe for another day. ‘ Aimee Duffy Harper Impulse author. Amazon UK. Amazon US.
‘This story is as rugged, beautiful and cruel as the landscape in which it’s set. Shehanne has another winner in His Judas Bride. This is not your typical historical romance. Ms Moore specialises in thrawn , feisty, troubled characters who refuse to bow down to what life throws at them. There are no
easy choices here.’ Booklin. Amazon UK.
‘With ‘His Judas Bride’, Shehanne Moore has done it again. She serves up a rich, red, full bodied Burgundy of a novel, where murder, intrigue, lies and deceit keep your attention firmly
glued to every page. This is a novel you won’t want to finish. Loved it!’ Antonia Van Zandt, author Seducing Amanda, Vienna Valentine, Etopia Press, Amazon US.
‘Scarred by deep wound and fighters to the bitter end. A
book I couldn’t put down! Historical Romance at its best.’ Sharon Struth, author The Hourglass, Etopia Press.
‘Callm is a tortured and twisted alpha male, yet underneath is a big marshmallow. Their passion for each other pits their minds against their bodies, I believe Ms. Moore is a native of Scotland, and that comes through in her language and knowledge of clan warfare. No simple additions of “ye ken” at the end of sentences here.’ Author Erin Moore, The Shaman’s Temptation. Etopia Press. Amazon. US.
“I loved this book.” LAH. Amazon.US.
‘This is a book that draws the reader in from the very first page. Although written in the third person, the reader could almost believe the central characters are each in turn being written in the first person, such is the depth of characterisation the author achieves.’
‘Echoes of the Pen.’ Amazon UK
‘Her words were powerful and moving in a way I haven’t witnessed in historical romance in ages.‘
“Now,” Lord Ewen canted his jaw, “how about you put your hand where everyone here can see it?”
Before she could open her mouth to protest, he leaned closer. Her throat dried. His thigh was a very handy option, wasn’t it? Though she strove to stop them, she widened her eyes. Drunk or not, debaucher or not, Lord Ewen reeked sexuality like a dangerous perfume.
Some people did. They just did. That was bad enough.
This sexual charge, this current, was worse. Because it demanded a response in kind. Under normal circumstances that would be the worst of it, not just worse.
But the worst, worst, was the honed, hardened edge and the sweet, sinful breath that said he knew her type. Perfectly. And said he knew why she was here, trying to get into Lochalpin. Said he wanted to tell her she was good. To tie her hands, but couldn’t because he was having to hold off. Really, really hold off.
And she still, still couldn’t quite take her eyes off his thigh. How could she? When Arland was at stake and the man was a dangerous snake. Even down to Arland appearing on his shoulder. What was Arland even doing there?
“Sir, I must pro—”
“Which part of ‘Put your hand where I can see it now’ are you unfamiliar with?”
Hell-cat was another word like slut. Expressing her fury was the last thing she should do here, but he had her so she could not think for the rage that swamped. And not just rage. For five years she had been dead inside. Her soul a calcified shell, it had taken her less than five seconds to sell ten short hours ago. Her body colder than the icy blanket of snow obscuring the trees and bushes around her. And what had it taken for her breath to rush through her nostrils like this? Her heart to hammer?
She snatched her hand from inside her cloak. “Satisfied?” Well, it wouldn’t rush. She would be nice.
He edged so his breath brushed her cheek. “Is this how you think you can waltz in here, Princess? Hmm? By bedazzling us with your”—he lowered his gaze—“breathtaking smile?”
“Oh, not at all, my lord.” Being nice was an exercise in restraint such as she had seldom experienced. Calm too when his gaze and voice washed over her with such deliberate sexual intent, she began to wish she’d kept the cloak shut. But if she did not speak, did not stand her ground here, that would be worse. “Actually, I thought my credentials would be sufficient.”
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