The Medieval Bad Boy is Back
The Devil Take You, is set in 1307, during the Scottish
Wars of Independence.
Braelynn Galbraith wants peace for her beloved Scotland,
marriage to her childhood sweetheart, and a house full of children. In that
order. But evil incarnate, in the form of Gard Marschand, turns her life inside
out and destroys all hope of a decent marriage.
Known in the Highlands as the legendary devil, Gard
Marschand raids his way across Scotland and England amassing power and property
in his malevolent wake. He will stop at nothing in his pursuit to regain what
is lost— even conceal his true identity and associate with his enemies. His
determination is all-consuming until he and his men lay siege to Ross-shire
holding and one feisty Scottish lass obliterates his single-minded purpose.
Can Gard abandon his deep-seated need for revenge for a
love that just might save his rotten soul? Or will he succumb to the demons
that hound him and surrender to the devil within?
I believe your stay in purgatory
has only just begun…
Hear from H K Carlton
Thank you so much for having me back to your blog. I'm so
excited to once again share Gard and Braelynn's story with readers. After a
brief hiatus, The Devil Take You, has found a new home.
I love a good historical romance, don't you?
Before I started writing; historicals were my go-to
reads. I read every Julie Garwood, Judith McNaught, Kinley MacGregor, and Jude
Deveraux book I could get my hands on—long before e-readers. And then I discovered
the phenomenal Karen Marie Moning!
So, when I decided I was going to try my hand at writing I
thought I was going write strictly historical romance. The experts say write
what you know.
And well, there's also that other saying about best laid plans...
LOL
It was both interesting and hard work, getting back into
this story and revisiting these characters. What hadn't changed was how much I
love them. And not only Gard and Braelynn, but also the secondary characters
who helped bring this story to life. It also reminded me, how much I
enjoyed doing the research for the historical component, and the precarious
political climate of the time as well.
I wanted to create something a bit different. So I started
with a villain and I made him the center of the story. He is severely flawed
and cruel, driven by anger and hell bent on revenge.
Then the hard part was, how to present him in a way that
would still endear him to readers.
That was the fun part of writing this book. It was
challenging right from the beginning and I knew that I had to create the right
woman with a combination of strength, resilience, and an overabundance of, if
not understanding, at the very least acceptance, for a man who had no remorse
for any of his wrongdoings and with no inclination or desire to change.
Braelynn Galbraith began as the woman in the wrong place at the wrong time, and
she eventually evolved into a character that could stand toe-to-toe with the
devil and hold her own.
I
hope readers will enjoy Gard and Braelynn's story, as much as I did writing it.
Read an excerpt
Brae kept her back to Gard, too ashamed to face him.
He grabbed her by the arms with enough force to bruise her flesh, and he spun her around. He paused momentarily, his gaze darting about her tear-stained cheeks.
“You will not do that again!” he roared.
“I dinna e’en ken wha’ I did!” she retorted.
Gard bared his teeth and flung her away.
Losing her balance, she hit the wet pallet.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she stood, then brushed herself off.
Anger like she had never experienced burned in her belly.
He grabbed her by the arms with enough force to bruise her flesh, and he spun her around. He paused momentarily, his gaze darting about her tear-stained cheeks.
“You will not do that again!” he roared.
“I dinna e’en ken wha’ I did!” she retorted.
Gard bared his teeth and flung her away.
Losing her balance, she hit the wet pallet.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she stood, then brushed herself off.
Anger like she had never experienced burned in her belly.
Brae did not consider her actions, she ran at him with this
newfound fury. She hurled herself at his chest. When he reached to steady her,
she raised her hand, then struck him with all her might. The blow landed on his
chin.
He reared in shock.
“I willna do it again. Because ya willna touch me again! Do ya hear me? Dinna touch me!” she screamed, standing toe-to-toe with him. She would not concede. Even if he retaliated, he would have to look her in the face to do it, and she would not cower. She slapped indiscriminately. “Dinna e’er come ta me like tha’ again! Not unless ya be man enough ta finish it!”
His black eyes gleamed with fury as she struck him again and again.
“I canna take it anamore! Ya willna treat me this way! I willna have it!” Tears fell in earnest as she continued to scream like a madwoman. “I have done nuthin’ ta ya, Gard, ta deserve your rough treatment, day after day.” She punched his shoulder. “If I dinna seem like Braelynn Galbraith anamore, ya be a’righ’. ‘Tis all your fault. Ya drag me further and further inta your murky world o’ wretchedness, evra damned nigh’ ‘tis the same.”
She slammed her palms into his abdomen so hard that he took a step backward before bracing his legs apart to accept more of her attack.
She fisted her hands and pummeled him. “Ya canna stand me durin’ the ligh’ o’ day, but ya come ta me in sleep. Your unconscious desires me.” She continued to assault his person, uncaring if he would retaliate. “Ya turn ta me. Ya put us both in a state o’ bein’ tha’ I didna e’en ken existed.” She hammered at him. “And then ya leave me! And ya seek oot someone else ta expend your want.” She clenched her teeth at the pain it caused her, then she released her pent-up angst with her fists. “How do ya think tha’ makes me feel? Oh aye! I ken! Ya dinna care. Ya do wha’ ya wish. Ya are the great and powerful Gard Marschand and ya treat people abysmally and ya beat children and ya seize things tha’ arna yours. Ya kidnap women from their homes and ya ruin their lives, but as long as ya are content bein’ miserable, all is a’righ’ wit’ the warped and twisted world ya have created, built on anger and revenge!”
Crying openly, she punched him. “Ya willna do it ta me anamore. Do ya hear me? No more will ya turn me inside oot. Ya willna touch me again, Gard, fore if ya do I will turn your own dirk on ya. See if I dinna!”
* * * *
Her fists slowed.
Gard was incensed by Brae’s audacity, but he was also oddly pleased, if not extremely stimulated by the assault. Grown men did not stand up to him like she just had.
He took a moment to harness his anger. “‘Twas always the plan,” he explained, “if you have forgotten, for you to be able to defend yourself against me. And now that you truly hate me, you may just be able to bring yourself to do it.”
“God kens ’twould be a lot less agonizin’ for me if I did!” She stomped her foot, then planted her hands in the middle of his chest and heaved with all her might. While he recovered his balance, she made for the exit, and ran for her life.
He reared in shock.
“I willna do it again. Because ya willna touch me again! Do ya hear me? Dinna touch me!” she screamed, standing toe-to-toe with him. She would not concede. Even if he retaliated, he would have to look her in the face to do it, and she would not cower. She slapped indiscriminately. “Dinna e’er come ta me like tha’ again! Not unless ya be man enough ta finish it!”
His black eyes gleamed with fury as she struck him again and again.
“I canna take it anamore! Ya willna treat me this way! I willna have it!” Tears fell in earnest as she continued to scream like a madwoman. “I have done nuthin’ ta ya, Gard, ta deserve your rough treatment, day after day.” She punched his shoulder. “If I dinna seem like Braelynn Galbraith anamore, ya be a’righ’. ‘Tis all your fault. Ya drag me further and further inta your murky world o’ wretchedness, evra damned nigh’ ‘tis the same.”
She slammed her palms into his abdomen so hard that he took a step backward before bracing his legs apart to accept more of her attack.
She fisted her hands and pummeled him. “Ya canna stand me durin’ the ligh’ o’ day, but ya come ta me in sleep. Your unconscious desires me.” She continued to assault his person, uncaring if he would retaliate. “Ya turn ta me. Ya put us both in a state o’ bein’ tha’ I didna e’en ken existed.” She hammered at him. “And then ya leave me! And ya seek oot someone else ta expend your want.” She clenched her teeth at the pain it caused her, then she released her pent-up angst with her fists. “How do ya think tha’ makes me feel? Oh aye! I ken! Ya dinna care. Ya do wha’ ya wish. Ya are the great and powerful Gard Marschand and ya treat people abysmally and ya beat children and ya seize things tha’ arna yours. Ya kidnap women from their homes and ya ruin their lives, but as long as ya are content bein’ miserable, all is a’righ’ wit’ the warped and twisted world ya have created, built on anger and revenge!”
Crying openly, she punched him. “Ya willna do it ta me anamore. Do ya hear me? No more will ya turn me inside oot. Ya willna touch me again, Gard, fore if ya do I will turn your own dirk on ya. See if I dinna!”
* * * *
Her fists slowed.
Gard was incensed by Brae’s audacity, but he was also oddly pleased, if not extremely stimulated by the assault. Grown men did not stand up to him like she just had.
He took a moment to harness his anger. “‘Twas always the plan,” he explained, “if you have forgotten, for you to be able to defend yourself against me. And now that you truly hate me, you may just be able to bring yourself to do it.”
“God kens ’twould be a lot less agonizin’ for me if I did!” She stomped her foot, then planted her hands in the middle of his chest and heaved with all her might. While he recovered his balance, she made for the exit, and ran for her life.
Copyright © 2019 H.K.
Carlton
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About H K Carlton
H K Carlton is a multi-genre Canadian author of romance,
with over thirty titles in publication. From naughty to nice, historical to
contemporary, time travel to space travel, and everything in between.
Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find
me
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