For one of my favorite authors, Kimbra Kasch, traveling is a time to relax and enjoy the sights and, if
you’re lucky enough to have someone to share the moments with, don’t ruin them
with putting pressure on your partner for unattainable outcomes.
Remember traveling is a lot like life, never put too high of
an expectation on the outcome and you will never be disappointed.
Plus, make sure you pencil in a few romantic stops, such as
an old church, a peaceful cemetery or a picturesque park. And you never know
what you might find, just walking down the street. You just might see a rainbow.
Welcome to my blog, Kimbra Kasch! Can you tell us about your book?
Theirs was a romance that threatened two kingdoms.
BLURB
Travel across oceans, continents and countries to
discover the story of legendary Viking hero, Holger Danske, and his magical
romance with King Arthur’s half-sister in Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking
This is the story of two warriors who never thought
they’d find love, especially on the battlefield, yet standing poised against
each other Morgaine and Holger face an attraction more powerful than any sword,
stronger than any warrior and more magical than all the powers of Merlin.
EXCERPT OF MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING
FOREWORD
This is an old story
told from a totally different perspective. This is a Viking’s tale.
MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE
VIKING is a legendary romance filled with honorable
Knights from King Arthur’s Round Table, Salacious Pirates, and Brutal Vikings. This
is the retelling of the romance between King Arthur’s half-sister, Morgaine Le
Fay, and her epic lover, the Viking Prince of Denmark and heir to King
Geoffrey’s throne, Holger Danske. And though you might think you know these
characters from the British stories, this tale comes from an entirely different
point of view. The Viking perspective.
Everyone knows of
Excalibur and King Arthur but few know of his brother-in-law, the Danish Viking
Prince and warrior Holger Danske or his sword Cortana. MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING is a mature Young Adult
retelling of folk-lore legend and Danish leader, Holger Danske, and his magical
romance with the sorceress Princess Morgaine Le Fay.
They met on a
battlefield, poised against each other, but their attraction was more powerful
than any sword, stronger than any warrior and more magical than Merlin, yet theirs
is a tale more tragic than Romeo and Juliet.
Weaving the stories from
English, French and Danish together this is one slice from the rich tapestry of
tales that have come together throughout time and history.
While most everyone who
searches for tales of the middle ages and seeks out stories of Knights and
battles, castles and magical swords, they will only find the stories of King
Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Yet, it is only with the help of the
Viking warrior Holger Danske of Denmark and Charles the Great (a.k.a
Charlemagne of France) that King Arthur beat back the Saxons and retained
leadership of Camelot.
Amidst these battles and
legends, Morgaine Le Fay is worthy of her own stand-alone stories for she was
such a strong woman everyone believed her to be a sorceress or more than human.
Some said she was half fairy because she rode with the men in battle and was
more than willing to take enormous risks for the men she loved.
Some believe she was the
most powerful sorceress in all of history, having tutored under the guidance of
Merlin and quickly surpassing his abilities. But it is her tragic love story
with the Danish Prince that forms this first story in the Viking Series: MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING.
Morgaine’s true love,
the Viking Norse leader and legendary warrior, is immortalized in stone in the
dungeons of Hamlet’s Castle on the shore that sits between the sound of Denmark
and Sweden.
But there is much more
to this tale than a simple love story.
King Arthur received his
magical sword, Excalibur, from the Norse Goddess, also known as The Lady of the
Lake but Excalibur was not the only magical sword she ever relinquished to
mortal hands. She gave just such a magical sword to the Danish Prince, Holger,
and one to the French King, Charlemagne. Together these three heroic men joined
forces to fight side by side. Britain, France and Scandinavia battled back the
invading Saxons.
I am married to a Dane
who was born and raised in Denmark, and have visited the Castle of Kronborg in
Helsingør, Denmark and viewed the
statue Holger Danske in
the casemates. I have also visited both England and France and tried to stay
true to the themes of all three legends, (from Denmark-Holger Danske, England-King
Arthur, and France-Charlemagne), while weaving them
together. However, I have taken artistic liberties with language and in
dramatizing the tale of The Viking Princess.
There is an entire world
full of rich stories about epic battles that go far beyond King Arthur’s realm
and other countries hold their legendary heroes in this same high regard. This
is one such story.
FIRST SIGHT
Morgaine’s head was held high, her back
straight, with her chin jutted forward, as she rode like a warrior into battle.
Covered in shiny mail, she sat upon her lively white steed, much like a
nobleman, but no one could be mistaken. One glance and anyone could see simply
by looking at her, this was a fine lady, with skin as smooth as silk and clear
as a summer day, her russet curls plaited and twined around her head, forming a
crown of braids befitting a high-born princess.
Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the
harsh morning light, she turned toward the mountains, searching for a sign.
Something. Anything.
Nothing was there. Still she sat, waiting.
It was after sunset when the shadows finally
shifted across the horizon. That’s when she noticed the dark silhouettes of
men. Not peasants. These were broad-backed warriors on horseback, sitting
outlined against the blood-red moon. They were moving closer, nearer to battle.
Arthur did not want his sister on the front
lines. “You should be in the background working your magic,” he insisted,
hoping she would heed his pleas.
She threw her head up in defiance and gave a
little snort. “Never,” she insisted.
His voice took on an authoritative tone. “I am
the King,” he reminded her with a frown etched over his face. She turned to
grin at him, “Did you think I could forget?”
With a heavy sigh, he went on, “It is not as a
King that I am asking, but as your brother. I cannot bear the thought of you
being hurt for me. I want you in the background, not on the forefront of
battle.”
She shook her head, and then reached across the
gap between them. She ran her palm over his cheek. “Do not waste your worry.
You know, death holds no fear for me.”
“Perhaps,” he nodded. “But there are worse
things than death. Please sister, if only for my sake, move to the back and do
not separate yourself from us—I beg of you.” He tried to convince her not to
ride forward from the front lines, but she wouldn’t listen.
“Do not even think of it,” she said, with that
familiar look of determination in her eyes and the stubborn tone Arthur had
become so acquainted with. Pulling back on her reins, she danced her horse
around him. “I am a symbol for the men to look upon. I must move about for all
to see.”
And no matter how much he wanted to deny it,
they both knew she was right. Sitting out in front of the knights, she made an
unforgettable impression.
“But you can inspire from anywhere, it need not
be the frontline,” he insisted.
She shook her head, disregarding his warning as
she rode ahead to act as the King’s guard over her brother. Sitting proud and
tall, she fully intended to protect him from the onslaught that was about to
begin. Arthur was transfixed. She was more beautiful than ever. An angel
blanketed in shadows but edged in starlight, no man on the battlefield would
ever forget her face.
She felt the fire burning inside her belly. The
cry of war rising up into her heart, she wanted nothing more than to ride.
As the men moved nearer, she raised her hand,
stopping Arthur’s men—holding them back, “Wait for my signal,” she called out,
“Steady!” Finally reaching up over her head, she dropped her sword across her
body as the moonlight glistened on the shiny steel, blinding the men riding
toward them into battle.
Morgaine let out a laugh that echoed over the
field as she galloped forward, and then immediately she swung her mare away
from the men. Standing out alone and off to the side, she was a vision…
Suddenly time stood still. She was frozen, as a
warrior on their frontline came into view. His arm raised up over his head,
sword in hand, he led the charge against her, against Arthur, and against all
the people of Camelot. He was a brute of a man and her attention was riveted.
There was no turning away; he was all she saw,
all she noticed. Opening his mouth, he let out a roar as he rode straight
toward her, this man with the golden mane.
The moonlight shimmered down on him. His browned
skin glistened and his hair gleamed like an autumn jewel beneath the starlight.
Suddenly she was reminded of hot summer days and amber pebbles washed up on the
white sandy shores. Fascinated, she was spellbound by his glowing skin beneath
the fading evening sun.
She was mesmerized.
Shaking her head to clear the fog inside her
mind, she readied herself for his blow. Raising her shield, she steeled
herself.
He was a giant among men, with ten times the
form of any god she could imagine.
Was it possible? Was
this an illusion? Could he be real?
His sapphire eyes found hers, locking on her
lilac orbs, and a blinding heat struck her like a bolt of lightning. She could
not turn away. His sword raised high in the air, his shield barely covering his
broad chest, she stared at his form. A rush of fire raced through her, as she
sat still watching this man ride with such a majestic carriage.
Giddy and out of breath, her heart beat faster
than she could ever recall.
What was happening here?
What magic was this? She wondered at her own body, feeling dizzy as a young maiden at
her first games. Someone must have cast a spell. She turned her head, searching
for the Viking sorcerer performing this magic.
There was none.
She had never had this reaction to any man. No. Morgaine had never had this reaction
to anyone.
Her breath caught in her chest, and she could
barely breathe. The air was trapped inside her throat, choking her. She had to
cough to force the air back into her lungs.
This man could not be human. He was either a
devil or a demon, she was sure of it and yet he had signaled his men into the
battle before he veered off to the side, riding straight toward the sorceress
with the flaming locks. His mouth was open as he let out a warrior chant she
had never heard before.
Another spell, she told herself, an incantation—perhaps the same one he cast
upon the knights and warriors.
She turned to her side, to see how her men were
holding up under this magic.
It could not be.
His words had no effect on them. They were not
under his spell. Their swords were unsheathed, raised, and ready to do battle.
The knight beside her let out a thunderous cry, spurring his horse faster, as
they rode past her into the throng of bare-chested men with the horns upon
their heads.
Her steed moved forward, but she did nothing
more than hold on to the reins as her mare carried her into the field of battle
and straight toward the magic man. She was unprepared, mesmerized, and out of
control…
Opposite each other they rode, one toward the
other. She saw him motion to his men to continue riding forward as he veered
further off to the side…to make his way straight toward her.
In a matter of moments, he was upon her.
Sweeping up beside her like the blast of a storm, he stole her breath away. His
thickly muscled arm snaked out away from his body, striking before she could do
a thing or even before she realized what had happened. But there was no pain.
It was not with a thrust of his sword that he struck, it was only his arm.
Quickly twisting, he shifted his weight to make room for her. His powerful arm
wrapped around her waist, grabbing her with the strength of the ocean’s tide,
he pulled her toward him.
Morgaine sat motionless as a statue in the
garden; she offered no resistance. Instead, she simply slid sideways from her
horse onto his. It happened in one swift motion.
Pressing his palm flat against her belly, he
held her in place, tightly nestled in front of him. She felt the warmth of his
breath on her neck, caressing her face. Her hands fell limp to her side,
accidently brushing against the hot flesh of his thigh. His skin burned beneath
her fingertips.
The heat rose from her hands to her chest, and a
small gasp escaped her lips as she let her hands rest upon his thickly muscled
leg. He chuckled low in his throat and she knew he understood the effect he was
having on her senses.
Pressing his firm rippled chest into her back,
she felt something she had never felt before…lust.
She could do nothing to resist him. Leaning
back, she drank in the strong, musky scent of him and felt her head spin. He
held her steady and still.
Another mesmerizing
potion,
she thought, his spicy scent must be the
mixture of a wizard’s tonic, worn to hypnotize his enemies.
Unable to fight the strength of his powerful
magic, she succumbed. His tantalizing aroma made her want nothing more than to
be with him, alone.
Visit me at www.kimbrakasch.com
Book
Title: Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking
(click above for buy link)
(click above for buy link)
Author
Name: Kimbra Kasch
Author
Location: Portland, Oregon
Name
of series and book number in series: The Viking Series – Book 1
Genre:
Young Adult Romance
Publisher:
Midnight Frost/Crimson Frost
Author
Bio:
Hi everyone! I'm a romance writer who grew up
in a family with 9 kids and only 1 t.v. so I spent my days reading and,
later, writing. I love books. . .maybe because I never got to pick t.v. shows
we watched. But I’d run home after school to catch the last fifteen minutes of
Dark Shadows...
I still love to run...or at my age, maybe
I should say wogging (a cross between walking and jogging). Here in Portland, I
love Halloween themed runs - where people don costumes and run. It's a lot of
fun...and I know those two words don't always go together: fun...and...run. But
it is.
And, with all those Halloween themed
runs, I guess Dark Shadows had more of an influence than some people might
think. Even today my favorite author is Stephen King. My all-time favorite book
is Salem's Lot.
Favorite romance novels are The Hunger
Games...okay, I know, it's a survival book but it's really all about romance.
Then there were the series: Twilight, Fifty Shades, and more but I also love
paranormal, Horror and even light books like Dewey the Small Town Library
Cat... Mainly, I just love to read. . . and write.
I've just had my first novel published
and am looking to share it with the world. It's a story I was inspired to write
after visiting Hamlet's Castle and seeing an enormous Viking statue down in the
tunnels next to the dungeons.
Sorry to be so long-winded but did I say I love
to write? ...and talk and...knit, and sew, and bake... I could go on but I'll
close by saying, I hope you’ll stop in on my site and I can tell you I have a couple
other stories you should check out: How about a story about a Demonic Tattoo
artist in Portland, Oregon: Demon’s Ink?
Or, how about a love story? Of course we all know love is risky, but in The Cats of Cullaby Creek it’s
dangerous….
You can find
them here: https://www.amazon.com/Cats-Cullaby-Creek-Kim-Kasch-ebook/dp/B01AVVSB44/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1471659591&sr=8-2&keywords=kim+kasch
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