Medieval romance is fun to write if A – you lived in those times or B – you like to do research. I am in group B. I was that weird kid in school who, when the teacher announced an essay, I got excited. So, studying up on the ways of medieval time was a win/win for me on this book and on my latest WIP which is also a medieval romance.
A couple of years ago, my daughter and I went to a medieval renaissance fair. I soaked in a lot of the atmosphere, including the clothes, food and the way the interpreters talked. My daughter was amazed at the falconer. He has several on display, plus an owl which we were allowed to pet. The feathers are very thick and it was soft.
The town fools were in their glory. It had rained for several days before the festival and there were large puddles – more like small ponds – on the field. They rolled about in the muck, laughing themselves silly.
01_Man in Mud
Pickles seem to be a thing. Many vendors walked around selling them. I did not try one. I’m not crazy about pickles, unless they are on a hamburger.
But the best part of the day was the jousting tournament. The knights rode in on their spectacular steeds. The squires rallied the crowd to cheer for their lords. The jousters bowed to the King and Queen, seated on the dais. Two knights would line up then charge. With a loud thunk, a pole would hit one in the chest plate and knock him flying. I winced every time someone hit the ground. Two squires would run over to help him stand. Seems it is difficult to get up wearing heavy armour. A victor was crowned and given a bag of “gold”. The defeated knights left, yelling they would be better prepared for the next match.
It was a fun day. My daughter learned a bit about that era and I was able to get a feel for the life and times I was writing about. It was definitely one of my better research moments.
Title: Brawnyn’s Love
Author: Daryl Devoré
Publisher: Indie Pubbed
Cover artist: Myself
Genre: Hot medieval romance
Pages: Ebook – 94 pages. Print – 104 pages
Daryl Devoré pens another hot read – the medieval romance –Branwyn’s Love.
The tale of a young woman sold as a courtesan in training. Branwyn arrives in a new land to begin daily lessons in the bewildering art of bedding a man.
The noblewoman chosen to be Prince Malacke’s bride rejects him by bedding his hated rival. Malacke turns his anger towards increasing the power and wealth of Black Dorn castle. And he succeeds until his attention is captured by the face of the woman who will be his queen.
Note: This book contains elements of domination, submission, and fetishes. If these concepts disturb you, please do not purchase or read this book. Branwyn’s Love was formerly known as Black Dorn and published by New Dawning.
Excerpt – G -rated
“I shall not climb into that basin!” Branwyn crossed her arms. She glanced down at the empty tub then back at Leah and shuddered.
Leah stepped into the tub. “Dune, please. You stand here and I shall pour the water from this pot over you and cleanse you.”
“It is unsafe.”
“I shall not pour the water too deep.”
“I will not remove my clothes.” Branwyn raised her chin and wrung her hands. “It is wrong to be seen naked by another.”
“You may leave your shift on.” Leah inhaled, released a deep breath then held out her hand. “Please, dune. Let me help you enter. It is my duty.”
Reminded of Leah’s discomfort from yesterday’s instructions, Branwyn climbed into the tub covered in her white shift and stood next to her servant.
Leah stepped out dipped her pitcher into a large barrel then poured the warmed, fragrant water over Branwyn’s body. Lifting a section of the shift, she used a chunk of soap, made from mutton fat, potash, and natural soda, to rub into a lather to clean her dune.
“Leah, tell me about my rescuer. He is a handsome man. Brutish, but handsome.”
Leah giggled. “The other serving girls have heard their dunes say he is the handsomest man in all the land. His name is Gon-Dra Malacke. He will become Gon Malacke when he inherits the castle and rules all.”
“You said the gon-dra will inherit the castle, lands and people. How can he inherit people?” Branwyn knelt so Leah could pour water down her back. “As gon, he will rule you. That I understand. But, own you?” She sighed. “Alas, again, I do not understand.”
Leah rubbed soap into a towel and carefully wiped Branwyn’s face then rinsed it. “The land is his to inherit.”
“I understand. What is a king without land?”
“What is a gon without people? Did your family not sell you?” Leah sat back on her haunches. She brushed the sweat off her forehead.
“Yes.” Branwyn chewed her bottom lip. “Although I refuse to think about it that is exactly what happened to me. I was sold as my uncle would have sold one of his cows.” She sat quietly mulling over what Leah had told her. “Leah?”
“I am a dune and will become a duna. Gon-Dra Malacke will become Gon Malacke. But you have no title, or is Leah a title?”
She giggled. “No, Leah is my name. I have no title. I was not title born. I serve. I was trained to serve a dune. That is what I am.”
“How many dunes have you served?”
Leah picked up the towels that were warming near the fire. She placed them next to the tub. “You are my third. But my first from a different part of the land.” She poured three pitchers of water onto Branwyn’s hair then wrapped a cloth around it to catch drips.
Branwyn stood. “Please, help me out.” Leah held out a hand to help her. As water dripped onto the floor and puddled around her feet, Branwyn glanced down at herself. Her shift clung to her, revealing her body’s curves.
Leah offered a towel and a fresh change of clothing. She brushed Branwyn’s long, wet hair and placed it in braids, and let it hang down her back. When she was ready, Branwyn followed Leah to Duna Trea’s to begin her instruction.
The room was dark as Branwyn entered and she paused a moment waiting for her eyes to adjust. Duna Trea stood next to a large mound of pillows and a recumbent Malacke. She signalled Branwyn to approach, but to be quiet.
“These wounds are old and should have been tended to.” She knelt next to the soldier to unlace and open his upper garments. “I should have seen these upon your arrival last night.”
A small smile crossed his lips. “Only you, Duna Trea, would have the mettle to scold me as my mother once did. As I trust no one, but you to heal me, and the wounds did not kill me, they could wait.” His head dropped back and rested on a pillow as his voice grew sleepy. “I was tired last night and wanted nothing but to find my bed. But I had to greet my parents and when the others arrived, I had to see that my men and horses were settled, then I could stand no more. Duncan offered me mulled wine. I do not remember if I drank it.”
“The battles went well.”
“The Gon owns many new lands. The men we fought were like children. They possessed no strength. No cunning. They feared us. I left my younger brothers, Nalar and Pettra, to rule and protect in the uplands until I return.”
Duna Trea dabbed healing paste on his shoulders and chest, then rubbed the mixture into his skin. “And how are the women in these new lands?”
“Bah. As weak as their men. So fragile, I would break them in bed.”
Meet Daryl Devoré
Two writers in one. Daryl Devoré writes hot romances with sexy heroes and strong heroines. Victoria Adams is Daryl’s alter ego when she’s inspired to write sweet romances with little to no heat.
Daryl (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two black cats – Licorice and Ginny-Furr Purrkins – and some house ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks on her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth, and a meteorite. She’s been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter, and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life’s an adventure and Daryl’s having fun living it.
You can stalk Daryl Devoré
Books by Daryl Devoré
Books by Victoria Adams
Dancing in Circles
A Guy and A Girl
Christmas in a Flash