Message From The Author

Author's Message

On January 22, 1998, my first book, THE DARKEST KNIGHT, sold to Avon. It was also the one day of the year when I had to host my sons high school swim team for dinner. So while I was on the phone talking to my agent, my editor, my husband and my parents, I was baking four pans of ziti. It was wonderful, crazy and hecticthe day that thirteen years of writing dreams came true!

Reynold Welles is trained as a knight, yet sworn to the monastery because of family honor and a secret sin. He rescues Lady Katherine Berkeley from kidnappers, and is duty-bound to bring her to the king. Yet his desire for her threatens everything he believes in.

Katherine never thought she could be more than someones wife, until the kings life depends on a secret she holds. Shes forced to accept the aid of Brother Reynold who both frightens and fascinates her. When Reynold discovers that she is to be married he is torn between doing his duty and claiming her as his own.

Cold and wet and miserable, she looked up at the monk. Please, can you just give me the food and leave me be? I dont want your help.

In all honor, I cannot leave a woman alone in the countryside.

What do you know of honor? she asked bitterly, remembering that other monk so many years before.

The head of her rescuer tilted to one side, but he did not answer. Instead he lifted his hands to the cowl and began to pull it back.

Katherine felt a deep thread of fear wind its way slowly up her throat She did not want to see his face, did not want to think of him as a man. He was a monk like the others, not to be trusted, having hidden reasons for everything he did. Yet she did not turn away as the hood fell in wet folds to his shoulders.

In the shadows of the night his face looked carved of rock with a square jaw and a cleft beneath his lips. His brows hung heavily over the sockets of his eyes, turning them to blackness. When his lips turned up in the faintest semblance of a smile, she felt a strange chill.

I cannot travel with you! Just give me the clothes and Ill leave.

I come with the clothes, he said in a voice made more menacing by its softness.

For an autographed postcard, please send a #10 SASE to P.O. Box 2355, Liverpool, NY 13089-2355. You can e-mail me at gaylec9@idt.net or visit my website at www.dm.net/~gaylecallen/


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