knight of my dreams ciotta & valero
A Tale that defies logic. A love that transcends time.
Sydney Vaughn can\’t sleep at night. Haunted by the vivid, recurring dream of a desperate knight and maiden, she is convinced she is witnessing a past life However, convincing ex-cop and cynic Winn Lacey that they share the souls of ill-fated medieval lovers proves a difficult challenge.
As history begins to repeat itself, unraveling the mystery of their tragic past becomes a matter of life or death. Will Winn\’s leap of faith come too late?
a stand alone novel
belle books, october 2002
what people are saying
“I did not mean for this to happen.”
“Nor did I, m`lady. Of that you can be certain.”
The maiden, clothed in scarlet fustian, looked away. “`Tis strange to hear you address me so formally when only this morn—”
“`Tis proper,” the knight interrupted, his tone stiff and unyielding, like the mail draped across his chest. “Lest you forget, we are not alone.” He cocked his head toward the entourage riding a short distance behind. “I suggest you guard your tongue, Lady Gillian. Voices carry.”
An eerie silence settled about the dense forest, cloaking them as heavily as the swirling mist. “Pray, do not be angry with me, Baldric. `Tis more than I can bear.”
“`Tis not my anger you should be fearing.” He jabbed a gloved finger toward the castle looming just beyond the forest’s edge. “But his.”
“He will not be angry,” she reasoned, “for he will not learn the truth.”
For the first time the man turned his gaze upon her. “God’s teeth! Do you truly believe us able to deceive him? If so, then you underestimate your betrothed.” He stared down at her, eyes burning with a warrior’s strength of emotion. “Your naiveté shall be the cause of your death, woman. And most likely mine as well.” He snapped his attention back to the castle.
“Do not speak as such,” the maiden pleaded, following his line of vision. “Your demise is a burden I am powerless to withstand. `Twould break my heart beyond repair.”
His voice gentled. “Your heart is of utmost concern to me, m`lady. I would wish to keep it whole and beating within a breath of my own. `Tis with this admission I beg thee one last time, utter the word and I shall steer us from this course.”
“I cannot.”
“Will not,” he amended, his fist clenching the reins. “You mean you will not.”
“`Tis not free will which guides me, sir, but duty. `Tis a bond with which you, a sworn servant to the crown, are well acquainted. You above any should understand.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I have no choice.”
“There is always a choice, my love. The challenge is in choosing wisely.”
“Then I have failed,” she said, chin low to her chest. “For my heart has chosen you, Baldric. An unwise choice.”
“Nay, not unwise,” he countered. “`Tis destiny.”
“It matters not.” She raised her head, tears raining down her cheeks. “`Tis too late.”
He turned to her, began to reach out then dropped his hand to his armored thigh. “You are wrong, m`lady. It matters much.” The jagged pain in his voice sliced the thick air between them. “We will be together. I swear.”
“`Tis impossible.”
“I will find a way.”
The formidable walls of the castle towered before them, a beast capable of devouring their lives and then spitting out the bones.
The drawbridge lowered.
The maiden stiffened, her delicate hands trembling on the reins. “`Tis the end.”
“Nay,” the knight vowed, “`tis only the beginning.” His eyes brimmed with strength and devotion. “You must have faith, m`lady. You must believe in us. In me.” He pressed his palm against his heart. “No matter what is said within those walls, no matter what transpires, know that we will be together.” His words echoed through the mist. “Trust me.”