Historicals not to miss
PLAYING WITH FIRE!
Caragh Γ Brannon defended herself bravely when the enemy
landed-only, now she finds herself alone with one very angry
Viking....
Styr Hardrata sailed to Ireland intending to trade, never
expecting to find himself held captive in chains by a
beautiful Irish maiden.
The fiercely handsome warrior both terrifies and allures
Caragh, but he is forbidden territory. He is the enemy...and
he is married. Yet Styr harbors a secret that just might set
them both free....
Forbidden Vikings
Resist them if you can!
Excerpt Ireland, 875 A.D.
The tribe was slowly starving to death.
Caragh Γ Brannon stared at the grain sack, which was nearly
empty. One handful of oats remained, hardly enough for
anyone. She closed her eyes, wondering what to do. Her older
brothers, Terence and Ronan had left a fortnight ago, to
trade for more food. Sheβd given them a golden brooch that
had belonged to their mother, hoping someone would trade
sheep or cows for it. But this famine was widespread, making
anyone reluctant to give up their animals.
βIs there anything to eat, Caragh?β her younger brother
Brendan asked. At seventeen, his appetite was three times
her own, and sheβd done her best to keep him from growing
hungry. But it was now evident that they would run out of
food sooner than sheβd thought.
Instead of answering, she showed him what was left. He
sobered, his thin face hollow from lack of food. βWe havenβt
caught any fish, either. Iβll try again this morning.β
βI can make a pottage that we can eat later,β she offered.
βIβll go and look for wild onions or carrots.β Though she
tried to interject a note of hope, both of them knew that
the forests and fields had been stripped long ago. There was
nothing left, except the dry summer grasses.
Brendan reached out and touched her shoulder. βOur brothers
will come back. And when they do, weβll have plenty to eat.β
In his face, she saw the need to believe it, and she braved
a smile she didnβt feel. βI hope so.β
After he went outside with his fishing net, Caragh stared
back at the empty hut. Both of their parents had died last
winter. Her father had gone out to try and catch fish, and
heβd drowned. Her mother had grieved deeply for him, never
recovering from the loss. Sheβd given her own portion of
food to Brendan, lying that sheβd already eaten. When theyβd
discovered the truth, it was too late to prevent her death.
So many had succumbed to starvation, and it bled Caraghβs
conscience to know that both of her parents had died, trying
to feed their children.
Hot tears rose up as she stared at her fatherβs forge. Heβd
been a blacksmith, and she was accustomed to hearing the
ring of his hammer, watching the bright glow of hot metal as
he shaped it into tools. Her heart was as heavy as the
anvil, knowing she would never hear his broad laugh again.
Though his boat remained, she didnβt have the courage to
face the larger waves. Her brothers knew how to sail, but
none of them had ventured out again. It was as if evil
spirits lingered, cursing the broken vessel that had
returned without their father.
She wished they could leave Gall TΓr. This desolate land had
nothing left. But they lacked the supplies to travel very
far on foot. They should have gone last summer, after the
crops had failed to flourish. At least then, they would have
had enough to survive the journey. Even if they traveled by
sea, they had not enough food to sustain them beyond a day.
The hand of Death was stretched out over everyone, and
Caragh had felt her own weakness changing her. She could
hardly walk for long distances without growing faint, and
the smallest tasks were overwhelming. Her body had grown so
thin, her lΓ©ine hung upon her, and she could see the thin
bones of her knees and wrists.
But she wasnβt ready to give up. Like all of them, she was
fighting to live.
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