Today, I’m thrilled to share with you The Red Wolf’s Prize, a new medieval from historical romance writer Regan Walker. Her book has shot to the top of the Amazon charts. If you loved the post-Conquest setting of Siege of the Heart, you’ll enjoy Regan’s take on William’s early reign in England. Be sure to check out her visual inspiration for the book on her Pinterest page as well. Happy reading!
About The Red Wolf’s Prize:
HE WOULD NOT BE DENIED HIS PRIZE
Sir Renaud de Pierrepont, the Norman knight known as the Red Wolf for the beast he slayed with his bare hands, hoped to gain lands with his sword. A year after the Conquest, King William rewards his favored knight with Talisand, the lands of an English thegn slain at Hastings, and orders him to wed Lady Serena, the heiress that goes with them.
SHE WOULD LOVE HIM AGAINST HER WILL
Serena wants nothing to do with the fierce warrior to whom she has been unwillingly given, the knight who may have killed her father. When she learns the Red Wolf is coming to claim her, she dyes her flaxen hair brown and flees, disguised as a servant, determined to one day regain her lands. But her escape goes awry and she is brought back to live among her people, though not unnoticed by the new Norman lord.
Deprived of his promised bride, the Red Wolf turns his attention to the comely servant girl hoping to woo her to his bed. But the wench resists, claiming she hates all Normans.
As the passion between them rises, Serena wonders, can she deny the Norman her body? Or her heart?
Excerpt from The Red Wolf’s Prize
The door opened with no warning knock.
Serena gasped and pulled the cloth over her breasts and belly, keenly aware her legs were bare for anyone to see.
The Red Wolf stepped into the chamber, his piercing gray gaze sliding over her body and coming to rest where her breasts strained against the thin cloth. She could feel the heat of her blush as she looked down to see the drying cloth clinging to her wet skin.
Without saying a word, he turned to the side and took off his belt. Then, with a grunt, he pulled his mail over his head and struggled out of his tunic. She would have offered to help had she not been so scantily clad. Had she not been so shy of his disrobing before her.
When his tunic slid to the floor, she nervously asked, “What do you intend, my lord?”
“I should think that was obvious, my lady. I am claiming my bride.”
“Now?” She gripped the drying cloth more tightly to her still damp body. The long strands of her pale hair, wet from the bath, clung to her skin. No man had ever seen her in such a state.
“Yes, now.” His eyes considered her carefully, and he shook his head. “God knows I’ve left it overlong.”
While still staring at her, he shed his spurs and boots and doffed his linen shirt, leaving his chest bare and his lower body clad in only hosen and braies. He was a beautiful man with his bronze skin and muscled chest. Her eyes were drawn to the white cloth circling his upper arm.
“Your wound,” she said, as she focused on the white bandage around his upper arm. The wound from the arrow he took for Jamie. How could she not love such a man?
“Aye.” He glanced down at the bandage. “My token from the siege at Exeter.”
“Does it pain you?”