This is part of the book blog tour for Armored Hearts by Pauline Creeden and Melissa Turner Lee, organized by Shane at Itching for Books.
When a crippled young lord rescues a girl falling from a tree, it reveals a secret about himself and his mother’s side of the family that could put him at the center of a war with beings he thought only existed in fairy tales. Tristan Gareth Smyth lived his entire life stuck at home at Waverly Park, left behind while his Grandfather makes trips to London, all because of his blasted wheelchair. Then an American heiress falls in his lap, literally, and he must find a way to keep her at a distance to protect not only his secret, but everyone around him from an assassin sent to kill him.
Today, I’m going to share an excerpt from the book, Armored Hearts.
I hope you’ll enjoy reading it.
Excerpt from Armored Hearts
By Pauline Creeden and Melissa Turner Lee
from Chapter Seven
Once the house was quiet and all had settled in for the night, Gareth shot up from his bed and flew to his trunk where he kept his armor. He’d made adjustments to it through the years to make it more comfortable. He’d widened the joints for his growing form.
The silver helmet shone in the gaslight. He pulled it on and lowered the visor. He was about to grab his usual sword, the short sword he’d found years ago in the attic. But his eyes fell on the claymore that lay against the wall at the footboard of his bed. A mystery. Who had sent it and why? It was much larger and heavier than the one he practiced with at Mr. Strong’s. Gareth swung it about, eager to give it a try. The size and weight of the claymore felt awkward.
He pushed open the doors to the balcony and set out over the trees with sword overhead, swinging it in pretend fight. No one had ever challenged the Flying Knight. Most just ran away in fear. He wondered if he could actually use the sword if the need arose. Because Mr. Strong rarely held back in their swordplay, Gareth felt confident in his skills. The old man treated him as any other student, and it had made the tutor one of Gareth’s favorite people. He still visited the old man for that reason.
The cool night air seeped into the joints of his armor and wicked away the sweat that had formed during his practice. He was in mid-swing of his make-believe sword fight in the sky when he caught sight of a figure on the road below. He sheathed his sword and descended to the trees for cover. Who was on the road so late? The form was female and her dress clung to her in an oddly familiar way. As he drew closer, Gareth recognized the crème and rose dress from earlier.
He scowled. “What’s she doing out here?”
About the Authors