Seducing His Sassenach
By Ashe Barker
- Stormy Night, 2020
- Released 137 October 2020
- Historical erotic romance, Highland romance
- Approximately 88,000 words
- HEA ending
Seducing His Sassenach is a stand-alone sequel to The Laird and the Sassenach and Sassenach Bride.
· A formidable northern lord and a courageous nursemaid join forces to rescue an abducted child
· He may be a ferocious warlord, but he needs her help if he is to succeed
· Jane will help the formidable Highlander, but on her terms
· Loyal, courageous, Jane will do what she must to see justice done
When a baby is stolen away from her mother by the English king’s men, nursemaid Jane Bartle offers her help to Robert McGregor and his band of Highlanders as they seek to rescue the child.
Publisher's Note: Seducing His Sassenach includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.
Seducing His Sassenach : Author Synopsis
When the baby she cares for is stolen by the king’s men, nursemaid Jane Bartle is determined to see the child restored to her grieving mother. She is not sure how she might achieve this, but help arrives in the form of a formidable northern lord, sent by baby Cecily’s new step-father to find out what happened to the child. Jane is able to lead Robert MacGregor to where Cecily is being held.
Robbie is glad of Jane’s assistance. Sher has saved him a great deal of trouble, but he never expected the feisty nurse to insist upon accompanying him and his band of Highlanders the length of England. Their journey is perilous, not least because the King’s armies are on the move, preparing to confront the Scots at Flodden.
As they face danger together, attraction flares between the high-born northern lord and the girl from the Plymouth slums. But once their shared mission is over, what will bind them together?
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Excerpt (Safe for work)
Jane did not accept the offer of a ride at the first time of asking. Nor the second, nor the third.
But ten miles was a long way on foot. Jane might be stubborn—her mother had pointed out that fact on countless occasions. But she was not a fool. She obliged the handsome but arrogant Scot to ask her a fourth time if she would be so good as to join him on his warhorse before finally halting her stride and allowing him to reach down for her hand. He hauled her up into the saddle as though she weighed no more than a sackful of feathers and helped her to arrange herself with as great a degree of comfort as might be achieved.
She was unaccustomed to being on horseback and found the entire experience distinctly disconcerting at first.
It was so high.
And the saddle moved and shifted beneath her. She would surely fall to her death.
“Be still, girl,” the Scot growled in her ear. “I have ye.”
Normally, he would have earned a stinging rebuke and stern advice regarding the proper use of her given name, but Jane was too preoccupied with hanging onto the pommel and praying for divine deliverance.
After a mile or so, she began to relax. The horse moved with a steady gait, and the Scot’s arm was wrapped firmly about her middle. He did, indeed, have her and she knew he would not let her fall.
“Ye’re quite sure ye can recall the right way tae get tae this gamekeeper’s cottage?”
The other Scot raised the question when she directed them to leave the main track and head northeast across the open countryside. His appearance was the more fearsome of the pair, though Jane felt there was not a great deal to pick between them. Scots were a dour bunch, she concluded. The man raised one dark eyebrow to suggest he did not entirely trust her sense of direction.
Jane bristled but bit her tongue rather than point out to the fool that he was the stranger in these parts, not she. “I know exactly where it is,” she replied instead, peering into the forest of trees that lay ahead. “This way is not the quickest, but it will not require us to go anywhere near Godlington.”
There were no paths through the dense woodland, and little in the way of landmarks. But Jane knew that they had to cross a wide brook, and she recalled seeing the rotting carcase of a long-dead oak tree close to the water.
“This way,” she whispered when the sound of fast-flowing water reached her ears, and she blessed the recent rain that had swelled the stream.
The horses waded through, and on the far side she caught sight of the felled oak. “We are going the right way. I think perhaps a couple of hours more…”
“It will be after nightfall, then, by the time we reach the cottage.” The man whose horse she shared made this observation and she could hear the displeasure in his tone.
“That cannot be helped,” she snapped. “Are you afraid of the dark, sir?”
His companion chuckled, but the arm around her waist tightened a little, to the point of discomfort. Perhaps she should learn to guard her tongue more. After all, she needed these two. She could hardly rescue baby Cecily on her own.
“The man, this gamekeeper, may no’ give the child up easily,” the Scot explained. “If it comes tae a fight, he will have an advantage since he is on land he knows. Better for us tae take the child i’ the mornin’, then we have the whole o’ the day tae put distance between ourselves an’ this place.”
“Oh. Yes.” She had not thought of that but could see the logic clearly enough. Perhaps there was more to her companions than mere brawn. “Then, we should get as close as we can without being seen, and camp for the night.”
“Have ye ever slept under the stars, Jane?” he inquired softly.
“No, but I am sure it will be perfectly fine. The evening is warm.”
“Aye, but no’ quite so warm ye will no’ require a blanket or two. I suppose ye did bring a blanket, Jane?”
No she had no blanket, no food, no flask of ale to swig at when the sun became too hot.
Worse, she had nothing for Cecily, either.
“I thought not.” Can this man read my very thoughts? “Ye shall have tae share one of ours, then.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to go straight to the devil, but she thought better of it. The night might well become chilly. And, whilst his companion might look rather more ferocious than she cared for, the one who now pressed his body close to hers was undeniably easy on the eye. It would be no real hardship to share his blanket.
More about Ashe Barker
USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.
Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.
Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days - her time is spent caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises. And a very grumpy cockatiel.
At the last count Ashe had over sixty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.
Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.
Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:
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