Dragon Night’s Sword by Mary Morgan won October’s Cover Love Poll.
I am a constant daydreamer and have been told quite often to remove my head from the clouds. Yet, this is where I find the magic to write my stories. Not only do I love to weave a good tale, but I have a voracious appetite for reading. I worked for Borders Books for almost fourteen years. Imagine my delight to be surrounded by so many books, talking to others about them, and getting paid.
I have traveled to England, Scotland, Ireland, and France. There are those who know me well when I say, “My heart is in the Highlands.” I believe I have left it there, or maybe in Ireland.
When not writing, I enjoy playing in my garden–another place where magic grows. Of course, there is time spent with my family. They are the ones that keep me grounded.
You can email me at: email@example.com
Duncan Mackay will do anything to lift the curse from his family – even forfeit his own life. But his plans change when he encounters the woman from his dreams, literally. She is from the future, somehow has his lost sword, and can talk to the Dragon that is able to lift his family’s curse.
Brigid O’Neill has spent her life listening to the mythological legends from Ireland and Scotland. So, when an ancient sword lands at her doorstep and she starts dreaming of a rugged Highlander, she drops everything and takes on a quest that will alter everything she believes.
Before their journey ends, not only will Duncan and Brigid battle an ancient curse, they must also find the courage to believe in the destiny that brought them together.
He stood next to the waterfall, beads of water glistened from his dark locks. Brigid watched as they trailed down his chiseled torso, traveling down to where his tartan was wrapped low around his waist. The wind whipped at the folds of his plaid; the power coiling within and about him as mystical as the land he stood upon.
“Ancient warrior,” she uttered softly.
When she looked up into his eyes, they smoldered with desire, and it startled her. A delightful shiver of wanting ran through her body. The raw desire to be in this man’s arms, touching and tasting him was so potent that she could feel her heart hammering inside her chest.
He tilted his head to the side as if studying his prey.
Brigid didn’t know if she should run, or step into his massive arms.
He took a step towards her, and her pulse quickened. The very air around her seemed electrified. He then took another…and another until he stood merely inches in front of her.
Her breathing became labored as he bent his head leaning close to her ear. She was engulfed in a sensual haze wanting his lips to touch her anywhere and put an end to her torture. His mouth was so close that she could feel a dark lock of his hair against her cheek, and she shuddered.
“Bring me back my sword,” he growled into her ear.
Brigid’s eyes flew open, her hands clutching the sheets, as the last fragments of her dream faded.