Marsha Canham - In the Shadow of Midnight
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- Book:In the Shadow of Midnight
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- Publisher:Random House Publishing Group
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- Year:2009
- Rating:5 / 5
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WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO FIND YOU DESIRABLE? HE INQUIRED SOFTLY.
An odd, giddy rush of hot blood flooded Ariels limbs as she found herself staring up into eyes as dark and turbulent as the sky overhead, at a mouth that offered no compromise.
I want nothing from you, sirrah, she stammered.
Nothing?
Ariel was stunned by the contact, stunned by the bold intimation of his hands and body. She tried to turn her head, to wrest it out of his grip, but he held firm. He crowded her even closer to the battlements, his torso an immense, overpowering wall of muscle and brawn.
His head bent toward her and she flinched back, but there was no escape. His mouth, surprisingly warm and supple, brushed over hers, taunting her with the promise of further outrage to come. She gasped again, intending to rail at him for his audacity, but before a word or breath could be uttered, her lips were no longer being merely brushed, no longer being taunted. They were being crushed, devoured, plundered by a mouth that was suddenly as ruthless and arrogant as the man himself.
High praise for
Marsha Canham,
winner of the Romantic Times
Lifetime Achievement Award,
and her best-selling novel
Under the Desert Moon
Under the Desert Moon is such an exciting piece of work. The talented Ms. Canham has created a fast-paced, action-packed story that kept me hanging on every word. The characters and subplots left me hoping that she will continue the saga in another novel. Great work, Marsha!
Affaire de Coeur
Extraordinary! With the vivid prose, vibrant descriptions, a delightful cast of characters, fast-paced action and a strong story (to say nothing of the wonderful romance), readers will be spellbound. Ms. Canham demonstrates the rare ability to breathe life into characters and situations in every historical era and setting. Yippee!
Romantic Times
Under the Desert Moon has all the excitement and adventure of an old Western. In addition, it brings a heroine reminiscent of the timewomen fearlessly facing the future, leaving home and family to pursue their dreams. Youll love this fast-moving book. It will hook you from the first sentence and hold you until the last.
Rendezvous
Just when you think youve got it all figured out, the characters shed their masks and become more entwined than ever before. This has everything a good Western should: adventure, murder, mystery and love. What an unbeatable combination!
Heartland Critiques
Through a Dark Mist, and
winner of the Romantic Times
Reviewers Choice Award
for Best Historical Romance of 1992
Ms. Canham has set quill to bow and struck directly into the heart of every swashbuckling adventure lovers soul. The action doesnt stop until the final paragraph with no questions left unanswered. Gadzooks! I love a good romp!
Heartland Critiques
A medieval novel with rare authority, weaving a rich tapestry of atmosphere, action, and romance. This book is a wonderfully satisfying love story that I would recommend to anyone.
Anita Mills
Swashbuckling adventure. Sweeping pageantry. Lusty passions. Clever dialogue. A thoroughly engrossing love story.
Nan Ryan
Infectious characters, witty dialogue, thrill-a-minute intrigue and intense conflicts of the heartMarsha Canham gives you all this and more. If you like romance; if you like adventure; if you like first-rate fiction, youll love Through A Dark Mist.
Elaine Coffman
A legend is brilliantly brought to life on the pages of Through a Dark Mist unfolds with all the adventure, rollicking good humor, wildly exciting escapades, cliffhangers, and, most of all, smoldering sensuality any reader could desire. Once you begin this mesmerizing tale there is no way you will put it down until the very last page and then you can only wish for more.
Romantic Times
Well-written, passionate adventure youll love Through a Dark Mist!
Affaire de Coeur
Dell Books by Marsha Canham
Swept Away
Pale Moon Rider
The Blood of Roses
The Pride of Lions
Across a Moonlit Sea
In the Shadow of Midnight
Straight for the Heart
Through a Dark Mist
Under the Desert Moon
The Last Arrow
This too, and always, is for The Chief.
It was one wager I did not want to win.
Le Citadel, Rouen, April 1203
H e had deliberately cut the pad of his thumb open on a sharp edge of stone, then pushed tiny bits of gravel into the bleeding wound so that the slightest pressure would send sharp pains up his arm, commanding his full attention. He was exhausted, ill, weary beyond words, but he could not afford to let his concentration slip. He could not appear weak or intimidated in his uncles presence. He could not allow the accumulated filth, stench, and despair of these past nine months of imprisonment show him to be unworthy of the noble Angevin blood that flowed through his veins.
He was Arthur, Duke of Brittany, Geoffreys son and heir, and by right of blood succession, heir to the throne of England upon Richard the Lionhearts death.
It was said that all Angevin spawn were descendants from the witch Melusinea sorceress who had escaped the fiery waters of the river Styx and come back to earth half-woman, half-serpent.
From the devil they came and to the devil they would return.
Yet they had been handsome menHenry of Anjou, his sons Richard and Geoffrey. They looked the way kings were supposed to look: tall and powerfully built, as blond and bright as gold, with blazing blue eyes. Only John, the runt of the devils brood, was set apart from the others. Stout and bullish, darker than Satan, with a sly, vulpine face, he made up in greed and ambition what he lacked in stature and appearance.
After years of living in the shadow of his warrior brother, the great Lionheart, John, as the last surviving son of Henry II, had placed the crown of England on his own head at Westminster. He had already ruled as regent for almost a decade while his brother was off leading armies and fighting Crusades, and those who supported Johns continued, corrupt rule turned a blind eye to the fact that there existed another claimant, a Plantagenet prince who was as blond and blue-eyed and regal of bearing as the revered Pendragon king for whom he had been named.
Unfortunately, Arthur had been a mere boy of fourteen when Richard fell to an archers arrow at Chalus. He was no match in terms of military strength or cunning for his uncle, Prince John. Moreover, Arthur had spent his entire life in Brittany. He had never set foot on English soil and the barons of England, even those who feared Johns excesses, were more wary of the influence the French king, Philip II, had had on the young and impressionable Arthur. Even William the Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, who loathed John with the same passion as he had loved Henry and Richard, decided it was better to deal with the devil they knew than with a boy who boldly displayed the fleur-de-lys on his coat of arms.
As expected, the domains of Brittany, Anjou, Maine, and Touraine had risen in support of Arthur. Normandys barons, those who had the strongest ties with England, supported the wisdom of William the Marshal. The Aquitaine, the rich and vast province that had come under Englands rule with the marriage of Henry and Eleanor, was still and ever loyal to the dowager queen, who, though seventy-eight years of age when she had cradled the golden head of her dying Lionheart, had also known that in order to avoid a bloody civil war, she must support her son over her beloved grandson.
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