Welcome to Blythe Gifford, Historical Romance Author

Today, I welcome the lovely Blythe Gifford, a best selling romance author with Harlequin Historicals. A long time fan of Blythe's excellent historicals, I can't wait to get my paws on her upcoming Scottish trilogy.

Her novels are full of adventure, sizzling tension and meticulously researched details. A must read for any fan of historical romance.

Over to Blythe...

Blythe Gifford introduces The Brunson Clan in 

Cathie and I share several things besides a Sagittarian birth sign, notably, an interest in Scottish and English medieval and Tudor history and a passion for a story slightly off the beaten path.  
That might well describe my new series, The Brunson Clan, launching with RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR, a November release from Harlequin Historical, in both the US and the UK.
The book is the first of three about the Brunson Clan, a family of Reivers on the Scottish Borders during the early Tudor era.  Stubborn and strong, the Brunsons are the most feared family on the turbulent Scottish Borders:  The family that will kneel to no one!

Here’s a glimpse of the story, along with an excerpt:
US Cover

Once part of a powerful border clan, John has not set sight on the Brunson stone tower in years. With failure never an option, he must persuade his family to honour the King’s call for peace.

To succeed, John knows winning over the daughter of an allied family, Cate Gilnock, holds the key. But this intriguing beauty is beyond the powers of flattery and seduction. Instead, the painful vulnerability hidden behind her spirited eyes calls out to John as he is inexorably drawn back into the warrior Brunson clan… 

The series will continue with CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD, January 2013, and TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL, March 2013.  

In an excerpt from Chapter One of RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR.  John has come across Cate, practicing her sword fighting against her own shadow.  He thinks to play with her, easily besting her sword with his dagger, but the woman proves more capable than he imagined…

He jumped just in time to escape a touch.  Now was not the time for distractions.  He had expected a playful joust.  Instead, he faced a warrior.
He swung high, but she held up her sword, turned sideways, to block his stroke.  A clever move, but lifting the two-handed sword had strained her strength and when she lowered it, her arms shook.
Seizing on her weakness, he attacked and they crossed blades again.  Prepared now, he leveraged his strength against her sword.  Though she kept her grip, he pushed the blade away, coming close enough to feel her chest rise and fall, nearly touching his.  
Close enough that his mind wandered, careless of the blades, thinking that under her tunic and vest, she had breasts.  Now he could see her face, the angles of it, sharp and cleanly sculpted as her sword.  Yet thick lashes edged her brown eyes, disguising some of the hatred there.  
“Surrender now?”
Panting, she shook her head.  Yet her lips parted, tempting him to take them.  She was, after all, a woman.  A kiss would be mightier than a sword.
He pushed her sword arm down, pulled her to him, and took her lips.
She yielded for a breath, no more.  
But it was long enough for him to lose his thoughts, to forget she held a sword and remember only that she was a woman, breasts soft against his chest, smelling of heather…
In a flash, she turned stiff as a sword and leaned away, though her lips did not leave his, so he thought she only teased.
When he felt the point of a dirk at his throat, he knew she did not.  
“Let me go,” she said, her lips still close that they moved over his. “Or you’ll be bleeding and I’ll leave you to it, I swear.”
He eased his arms from her back and she pushed him away, wiped her mouth, and spat into the dirt.  
He touched the scratch she’d left on his neck, grateful she had not drawn blood.  
Her eyes, which he had thought to turn soft with pleasure, narrowed, hard with fury.
“It’s a Brunson you’re facing,” he said, trying a smile.  “Not a Storwick.”
She raised both sword and dirk, the larger wobbling in her grip.  “It’s a man I’m facing who thinks what I want is of no consequence if it interferes with his privileges and pleasures.”  
Had he imagined the echo of the bedchamber in her voice?  No more.
He raised his eyebrows, opened his arms and made a slight bow.  “A thousand pardons.”  Words as insincere as the feelings behind them.
She frowned.  “You are a stranger here, so you know no better.  And because you are a Brunson, I’ll let you keep your head, but I’ll warn you just once.  You will not do that again.  Ever.”  
She lowered her sword, slowly.
You are a strangerShe was the Brunson, besting him with a sword, displacing him at the family table.  His temper rose.  “And what if I do?”
The blade rose, this time, not pointed at his throat, but between his legs.  “If you do, you won’t have to worry about bedding a woman ever again.”
He swallowed, gingerly, his body on fire.  Only because she had challenged him.  Nothing more.  No man could desire such a woman.  
“Then have no worries on that score, Catie Gilnock,” he said, flush with anger.  “When next I bed a woman, it most certainly will not be you.”

Author Links:
Photo credits.  Cover used with permission.  Author photo by Jennifer Girard.  
UK Cover


  1. Great excerpt.

  2. Thanks, Ella! Glad you enjoyed it.

  3. Wonderful excerpt! Great tension. Best wishes.

  4. Thanks, Nancy. I wanted to include something with that all important spark between the hero and heroine.

  5. Sparks is the right word, Blythe. Cate is definitely not the type of woman John is use to dealing with.


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