Hello and welcome back to At First Sight Saturday. Today’s guest is author, Sherry Ewing who gives us a ‘first sight’ look at hero, Ulrick, and heroine Bridgette from the novel Promises Made at Midnight.

Excerpt:  The sun came out from behind a cloud, and he stopped his stroll to shield his eyes from the brightness overhead. He was surprised when he felt his left elbow being taken and he looked down to find an elderly woman with grey hair staring up at him with a mischievous smile.

“My lady, may I be of assistance?” he asked, wondering how she was able to sneak up on him as she had.

“Oh, aye, laddie, that ye may,” she said, with a heavy Scottish brogue.

He waited for her to continue to state how he may be of service, but she only watched him. Her gaze was so intense that Ulrick shuffled on his feet under her close scrutiny. His brow rose in a silent display for her to tell him what aid she needed but again she remained silent, as if she had no perception of what she required of him.

“May I ask, how may I be of service, madam?” he at last inquired.

“’Tis the wrong question ye ask. Mayhap ye should be inquiring what I can do fer ye?”

“Since we have just met, I do not understand what I would need of you… no disrespect intended, of course,” he mumbled, inspecting this elderly Scottish woman who held his curiosity.

“Fair enough,” the woman replied, patting his arm. “’Tis nice tae see a knight who remembers his manners and continues tae live by a code of honor. Ye are honorable, are ye not?”

Ulrick looked down at this tiny woman whilst she urged him forward. No one in his entire adult life had ever questioned his honor. He was a knight of the realm living by a code of chivalry his entire life. ’Twas engraved into his very soul.

“Aye, madam,” he answered truthfully.

“I really had no doubt, but I had to ask ye,” she answered with a wink. “’Tis required, ye must know.”

Ulrick was confused as to where this conversation was going. “What is required?”

’Twas the lady’s turn to look confused, as if he should not be asking her anything. She peered at him once more, before smiling up in satisfaction again. “Why, that ye be worthy, of course.”

“Worthy of what?”

“Ye shall see. Will ye escort me tae the well at the edge of the village, dear boy? ’Tis a far bit of distance fer these old legs of mine.”

“Of course, my lady,” he answered, ignoring her reference that he was a mere boy. No one had called him such for more years than he cared to remember, and he tried not to scowl at the reference.

Despite the woman’s reference to her age, she seemed to pick up her pace as though she were suddenly in a hurry to reach the well she spoke of. The crowd began to thin as they left the festivities far behind and Ulrick saw their destination up ahead. She continued to pull him along before she sat to take her ease on a log that served as a bench of sorts.

He looked around, thinking that mayhap she was to meet someone, but there was no one else around. He could in no way leave her here alone so he waited somewhat impatiently, not knowing how else he might be of help to her besides standing guard.

“Ye be a good laddie,” she said with another bright smile. “Will ye be so good as tae get me a dipper of water from the well?”

Ulrick gave her a brief nod and went toward the well, taking the rope before dropping the bucket down and hearing it splash in the water far below. He began to pull the rope end over end and gazed over his shoulder. He squinted whilst he gazed upon the old lady for, as the sun hit her body, she appeared surreal. The light perchance was playing tricks with him, for she waved at him as if he should hurry with his task. He turned and, before he knew what had happened, a womanly body was hurled into his arms, slamming into him. They began to stumble backwards to the ground and Ulrick quickly maneuvered so she would not be crushed by his weight.

Merde! Where the devil did she come from? He began to worry for her health when she did not open her eyes. He turned to the elderly woman he left on the log only to see that she was gone. Returning his attention to the young woman beneath him, he saw that she was in need of reviving. Rising briefly to retrieve the full bucket, he set it next to the woman in order to splash the cool water upon her face.

“My lady? My lady, can you hear me?” he asked. Green eyes began to slowly flutter open like the soft wings of a butterfly in flight.

He could only stare in wonder at the vision in front of him whilst she came to life. He refused to think of who she might be. His eyes widened in surprise when a woman’s voice sounded inside his head as clear as the day was fair… Ye be welcome.

***

Confusion wracked her head, making her dizzy. What had happened?

“My lady? My lady, can you hear me?” There was no mistaking the deep baritone voice that was obviously male and full of concern.

Bridgette slowly opened her eyes to reveal a man hovering above her. A halo of sunlight surrounded his head, almost making him appear as if he was one of God’s own angels. As she became aware of her surroundings and her vision began to clear, she wondered how on earth she ended up on the ground.

“What happened?” she inquired, while an overwhelming sensation of being completely out of place rushed through her. She sat up, and the man gently took her elbow to assist her to stand upright on wobbly feet. Her eyes swept the immediate area. It was no wonder she was feeling out of sorts. Nothing looked familiar. “Where am I?”

The man’s brows furrowed at her question but answered carefully. “At the village faire, my lady, in Berwyck.”

Bridgette mulled over his answer, still puzzled. “That must be a new one. I didn’t realize they were giving these events an actual location name.”

“I know not of what you speak, my lady,” the man replied, with a furrowed brow.

She waved him off, trying to get her bearings. She began dusting off her gown, still feeling disoriented. “That’s okay. What the hell happened?” she asked again. “God damn, what a day I’m having.”

“My lady!” The gentleman’s voice was clearly chastising her for her language.

She watched him make the sign of the cross and gave a heavy sigh. Once again, she had screwed up by not staying in character. If she didn’t watch herself, she’d go and get herself booted from the acting guild. “My apologies, good sir. I seem to be out of sorts,” she replied trying to get back into her role.

“I understand,” he murmured, but his voice didn’t sound convincing to her ears. “Mayhap you should take your ease over yonder, if you can make it that far.”

Bridgette gave a brief nod. He followed her a short distance from where she had fallen and pointed to a log. Where is that delightful bench I was sitting on? She rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to focus properly. As they opened again, the world seemed to spin before her vision. Reaching out, she clasped the arm of her rescuer.

The world righted itself again and she at last focused fully on the man… or rather knight… who stood before her, rather impatiently. He looked familiar, as though the statue had come to life. Had she really stumbled into the guy who had modeled for the sculpture?

Her mouth hung open. She was most likely appearing extremely rude and impolite. But it wasn’t her fault she was gawking. The man’s handsome ruggedness practically begged her to squeal out take me now! He towered over her own small stature. Dark black hair with hints of brown hung to his shoulders, almost asking her to reach out to caress its length. Vivid blue eyes were set in a tanned face with chiseled cheekbones, a firm-looking square jaw, and a nose that now appeared as though it had been broken a time or two. This, naturally, only added to her initial attraction to him. His facial features reminded her of a Roman soldier of old.

She continued her assessment. Broad shoulders were barely hidden beneath a dark red cape that fluttered behind him in the afternoon breeze. A well-made tunic of dark blue closely covered his muscular chest. The slightly curved neckline offered her the briefest glimpse of his chest hair, and she had to ball her fingers into a tight fist to prevent her from doing the unthinkable, like reaching out to actually caress a total stranger.

Her gaze went lower, but that was an absolute mistake, as she saw the rest of him was just as perfectly shaped. His costuming was impeccable and, once her senses returned to normal, she’d have to ask where he had had them made. He must be an athlete because, for the life of her, she couldn’t see that there was an ounce of fat on his body. She began to wonder if his flat abdomen would contain a six or eight pack of ripples if he stood before her without his shirt.

She took her time as her gaze traveled back up the length of him because, honestly, what was there not to appreciate with the fine specimen before her? When she at last made her way back up to his face, she encountered a roguish grin. Good lord… had she really openly ogled him like that? His twinkling eyes held a mischievous glint, as though he was completely aware of his effect on her and the beginnings of a rosy blush crept its way across her cheeks. She wouldn’t think of how the rest of her body became flushed when he now started his own assessment. He chuckled as though he knew where her thoughts had taken her.

About Promises Made at Midnight:  Sometimes all it takes to find your heart’s desire is to make a wish…

After a series of failed relationships, Bridgette Harris would like a fresh start. If only she could escape her ex-boyfriend since they participate in the same renaissance fairs. While gazing at a granite statue of a handsome knight—her dream man—at one such fair, a mysterious elderly Scottish woman offers her a coin to toss into the fountain and make a wish. Bridgette can’t resist, but nothing prepares her to suddenly slip through time.

Sir Ulrick de Mohan does not have time for love. He is charged with training possible recruits to become worthy guardsmen for the Devil’s Dragon. The woman who magically appears out of thin air and falls into his arms must be one of those future ladies who continue to show up at Berwyck’s gate. But she can’t be for him.

Fate has brought two people together despite the centuries that should be keeping them apart. Will the growing love between them be enough to keep Bridgette in the past or will Time return her to where she should belong?

AvailableNowhttps://books2read.com/u/4Ap6xd

About Sherry:  Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. A bestselling author, she writes historical and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. When not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. You can learn more about Sherry and her books on her website where a new adventure awaits you on every page at www.SherryEwing.com.

Find Sherry OnLine:  Website   Bluestocking Belles   Amazon Author Page   Bookbub   Facebook   Newsletter   Street Team   Facebook Official Fan page

 

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