Linda's Website
Linda's Bookshelf
Linda's Bio
Linda's Blog
Speak of Love
 
Honora, a duke's daughter, knows better than to expect her marriage to be a love match, but her uncles' choice of a vain, greedy widower won't do either. She has her welfare and the future of her sisters to think of. "I'd rather marry the devil himself," she tells them, and then she meets ... Brec McCloud, the mysterious new Laird of the Isle of Myst. He seeks a lady for his castle for his own dark reasons, and he is willing to give up much to win Lady Honora's hand in marriage. One suitor rejected and war on the horizon, Honora is forced to accept his magical courtship and passionate attentions. Ultimately she accepts his proposal of marriage which sets her on a journey to the western isles and world of healers, pirates, and sinister superstitions. At the Laird's ancestral home where she reigns as the lady of the castle, she discovers a kelpie, a fairy flag, a tale of murder and cruel betrayal. With a woman's special strength, she fights for her Laird as an enemy's lies threaten to tear them apart...before they can speak of love.



The Heiress...Out of necessity Leandra of Lyonesse knows more about archery than the fine art of pleasing a man. She paces the castle's battlements with an archer's bow clutched in her delicate hands. Constantly threatened by brigands, she has accepted the proposal of a powerful, older earl who can protect her homeland. But, she is woefully ignorant of the ways of men and women. Fearing this marriage might fail without help, she does the only thing she knows to do... she secretly seeks the help of a potent potion of love. The Knight... Handsome Sir Garrett Bernay values honor above all. He is enraged that, instead of fighting beside the king, he must escort Lady Leandra to wed his liege lord. His disposition does not improve when the lady and her archers mistakeningly fire on his ship. Nor is he pleased that the lady's eyes flash with emerald fire and her skin is as smooth as ivory. She belongs to another. But he is strong. He's certain no power on earth can make him steal even one tender kiss. The Love Potion... It was meant to inspire selfless love and seal a marriage. But the mists of fate swirl around Lady Leandra and Sir Garrett. Now the elixir, brewed to bind two hearts forever, sweeps a knight and lady toward a rendezvous with desire...and to a destiny decreed by an irresistible love

Soldier, Warrior, Rebel . . . He makes you cry for his pain and cheer for his victories. He fills your daydreams and remains etched in your memory for all time. He’s the wounded hero—the most compelling figure in romantic fiction. And he’s about to wrap himself around your heart and never let go. The award-winning, best-selling authors of The Journey Home have conjured an inspired collection of stories about this beloved icon whose soul bears the scars of time and fate. In each passionate and magical tale, you’ll meet an irresistible warrior who’s facing the aftermath of a conflict. You’ll meet, too, the courageous woman who wants to tend his wounds, help him rebuild his shattered dreams, and give him the love he needs and so richly deserves—if only he will let her. Ten romantic encounters of the extraordinary kind, each proving what the heart knows is true—that the most powerful healer . . . in any time or place . . . was, is, and always shall be love.

"Captivating . . . these tales will win your heart.” Sherrilyn Kenyon, New York Times best-selling author

“ . . . tender, triumphant . . . a celebration of hope.” Teresa Medeiros, New York Times best-selling author.

Eerie - Uncanny - Creepy - Goth-a-licious
Sixteen frightening, heartwarming, amusing and spellbinding stories from America’s Heartland, spanning pioneer days to the present.

The moan rattled the windowpanes this time, the pitch rising again from a melodic hum to a whistle. Then it wavered into a painful scream-like quality. The wail stretched out longer than any human voice could possibly sustain.

Martie began to whimper. She couldn’t help herself.  Abrupt silence.

Wind hit the walls of the house like a blast from a passing freight train. Cold invisible fingers raced under the door and swooped down the stovepipe, pulling at her skirts and dousing the table lamp. Only the flickering stove fire lit the room.

- From “One Night at Whistling Woman Creek,“ by Linda Madl