Welcome Ann Cory

My sweet/sensual historical romance Angel with a Blade is available now from Ellora’s Cave – part of the Blush Line, as well as on Kindle. I enjoy writing women heroines and historical romance, so combining the two for this book just made sense. For more stories in various genres that I write, please visit my website http://www.anncory.com. And I wanted to say a quick thank you to Ginger for allowing me to be a guest! She’s a lovely hostess.

I hope you enjoy the blurb and excerpt below.

Blurb –

Using rune stones as her guide, natural healer Rebecca travels to aid those who need her. Armed with her basket of tonics and a sword, she travels to her next destination, Blatsfort, England. At first glance, a handsome gentleman stirs her desires and makes her question the solitary path she has chosen.

But their sweet exchange turns sour when the gentleman is poisoned by men seeking to rob him of his fortune. Unable to deny her growing affections, Rebecca gathers her sword and all her courage, knowing in her heart she was meant to save him.

Excerpt –

Rebecca cursed herself for knocking over the lantern. She hadn’t wanted to wake Raumont or attract the men’s attention. At least she hadn’t started a fire. To her relief, he stayed asleep.

After righting the lantern, she moved back behind the door. Her arms and legs trembled, making it difficult for her to keep her balance.

The floor of the hallway creaked and she heard the men whisper to one another. Horror struck her. Why hadn’t she turned out the light? Not only had she captured their attention, she’d led them right to the person they planned to kill. And here she was supposed to be helping.

A figure entered the room while the other one stood in the doorway.

“Well, would you look at that, Edward. The old fool is sound asleep.”

“I wonder what made the noise.”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter now. This couldn’t be easier. We’ll slay him now, grab the money and torch the place.”

“You’re a goddamn genius, Barton.”

Fear turned to anger in an instant. She refused to stand by and let anything happen to Raumont. Whatever irrational feelings she had for him fueled her courage.

Rebecca stepped out from behind the door and let it fall closed. Her sword hissed as she pulled the blade from its sheath.

The men turned around, eyes wide, lips pursed.

“Who are you? Some long lost nephew?” exclaimed the blond-haired man. He pulled his sword from the belt around his middle and raised it high. His dark-haired partner followed suit as he too brandished his sword. If they thought raising their blades would deter her, they were dead wrong. She knew how to use a sword. Her mother had taught her the importance of defending herself. Though she’d never killed anyone, she’d gotten herself out of some unpleasant situations.

“My identity is not your concern,” she replied, making her voice low and raspy. “I’m curious who you are and why you’ve come uninvited.”

The dark-haired one put his hand up. “I’m Barton and this here’s Edward, my business partner. You’re mistaken, young man, we were invited. By Raumont himself. We’re old acquaintances of his.”

Rebecca clicked her tongue. “I doubt that, seeing how he’s sound asleep. Why are you here?”

“We’re here to talk business. Are you his personal bodyguard or something?”

She smiled. If she wasn’t mistaken, he didn’t act nearly as confident. “Something like that.”

“We’d appreciate it if you’d leave us alone with Raumont,” he insisted. “Your presence is unnecessary.”

“I’ll have to decline your kind request. I’m not leaving.”

The man’s green eyes turned dark. “Then you won’t walk out of here alive.”

Rebecca held her head high. “We shall see.”

Hand on the hilt of her sword, she parried and lunged, narrowly missing the dark-haired man’s throat. Again she lunged and again she missed. Her lack of rest since the start of her journey didn’t help.

With a grunt, both men came at her, their swords aimed low to the ground. She leapt as their swords swiped air. Rebecca landed, rolled to her knees and dove to the side. They gave her little time to recover before they stalked forward, backing her into the corner. The points of their swords came too close for her comfort and the one called Barton managed to draw blood along her forearm. She refused to give up or show weakness.

Jaw clenched, she struck forward. Her sword circled and connected against one sword and then the other, the steels clanging together so loudly it became almost deafening. She took a step back out of range of their blades and then parried. Sword tight in her grip, she moved like the wind to strike.