He is a desperate prisoner escaped from the dungeons and she is his beautiful and daring captive. It was only three months ago when I, Lord Reynard Devin de Fauconer, learned of my father's death, making me Baron Rothwell. When I returned to the family castle after a five year absence, I certainly did not expect to find my cousin, Sir Garron, sitting in my stead, having stolen my identity. Then to imprison me in the darkest hole of my own dungeon, accused of the most vile treachery. And yet I cannot blame him for his perfidy, for truly it was I who killed Maggie of Maidwell - his woman. I fear my actions, my desires brought about her death. After this tragic incident I vowed never to touch another woman - gentle or baseborn. However all is not lost - with the aid of a loyal servant I escaped the dungeon. I must tell you that during my flight I stumbled upon the most exquisite creature. Even half dead as I was, I could not resist the desire to kiss those lush lips. But what happened next was most unexpected - the lovely girl took it upon herself to sneak me from the castle, away from Garron's grasp. It was then I realized the spirited beauty was none other than Lady Rianna de Termonde, my own betroth, come to marry the imposter Baron Rothwell! The thought of him touching her, kissing her, makes my blood boil. And so I have done the unthinkable - I have kidnapped her. We've been racing across England for several weeks now, eluding Sir Garron's men and battling brigands intent upon killing me and stealing her. But I wonder if I am deluding myself. Rianna believes me to be Baron Rothwell's cousin, and I have not dissuaded her from this belief, using it as a shield to protect her. But I tellyou honestly, I do not know how much longer I can resist the passions brewing between us. There is something about her which touches me in a way I have never felt before. Should I reveal my true identity to her? Confess my darkest secret? Or will my love bring about the death of yet another woman? I seek your wise counsel in this matter. Desperately Yours, (the true) Baron Rothwell Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, and violence.
I was born in Dunnottar Castle in Grampian, Scotland, high upon the cliffs over looking the turbulent North Sea. And I was betrothed to my true love at the tender age of twelve. I remember the first time I saw him, riding across the plains upon his white charger, his armour shining brilliantly in the noonday sun...I swear, I feared my heart would leap out of my breast for the love he did instil in me...
(Insert record scratch here.)
Okay, the truth of the matter is: reality sucks, and I'm a story teller and have been since the moment I could talk, according to my Dad. Whenever he caught me in a lie, I had no problem coming up with a dozen reasons why I painted the cat purple with green polk-a-dots, none of them true of course, but at least they were highly entertaining. It was at that time he knew I was destined for greatness... I would become a writer, a story teller who actually gets PAID to lie. What more could you possibly want in a career?
