Publication date: September 6th, 2021
Synopsis:
A medieval Scottish blacksmith and a millennial from Detroit walk into a bar...
By the age of six, Fiona could sink a bank shot.
By eight she could mix a perfect Manhattan.
By twenty-two, she had a business degree and a concrete plan to save her grandfather's failing bar.
Then she was pushed through a time-portal.
Now Fiona is stuck in fourteenth-century Scotland with no way home. There's a good chance time-soldiers are after her. And Henry, the guy she's shacked up with, is a grumpy son-of-a-bitch who doesn't get her at all.
He is hot, though.
And brave.
And most definitely the love of her life.
If the two of them can stop bickering long enough, Fiona just might be able to have it all--the tavern of her dreams and the first man who can actually keep up with her. That is, if they can survive the battles, murder, and mayhem of the Middle Ages and the time-soldiers who have a hand in it all.
**10% of books sale profits and 100% book merchandise profits go to The Three Penny Project, Sarah's charity working to plant food-bearing, perennial plants throughout Toledo!
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Excerpt
This was medieval Vegas, baby! Bold and bright and fabulously gaudy. Patterned tents in electric hues. Actors and singers and acrobats. Merchants in exotic robes. Shoddy goods and priceless treasures.
She took a drag from her tankard. "Ye should enjoy the moment o' calm. Soon as that bell rings, it'll be bedlam."
"I'm counting on it!" Henry earned a third of his annual salary from this fair, and with any luck, I would do the same.
She refilled her tankard, and I excused myself to take a leak behind some bushes. When I returned, I found her bobbing her head to a bawdy song the chandlers in the tent next to us were singing.
"'Some be lewd, and some be shrewd'," they sang.
Mairi pumped her fist in the air. "'Go where the shrews go'!"
I covered my mouth with a palm. Never in my life would I have expected prim, proper Mairi to be singing along to a dirty tavern song.
I eyed her nearly empty tankard. "How many of those have you had?"
Downing the last dregs, she burped. "Four. And I'm due for another."
That's when the man with the bear showed up. With a bob of his head in greeting, he gestured to the bear. "This here's Aggie." The bear rose to its hind legs and bowed.
I laughed.
Mairi squinted at the beast. "Fleas."
The man patted the bear's back. "Aggie'd like to buy an ale."
My grin widened. "Aggie, huh?" I winked at the man. "Well, if it's for the bear... I suppose I can sell you one early."
"How," Mairi hiccupped, "does Aggie intend to pay?"
"Well, ye canna expect a bear to pay in silver." He made a circling gesture with his finger, and the bear pirouetted. "Ye see, no purse. Where would she keep the coin?"
I wanted to hug Aggie--she was so freaking cute. "I take it Aggie pays in entertainment?"
The man nodded. "Precisely."
"Ye scaffy wee bugger." Mairi's words slurred before she took another drink and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "Your coin purse looks plenty full to me."
Honest offense rounded his mouth and eyes. "Why should I have to pay? It's Aggie what wants it."
Her already flushed face flashed redder.
"Deal!" I put a calming hand on her shoulder. It's my ale, and I want to see what Aggie can do."
The man placed a metal hoop over the bear's head. "Well, then, Aggie, how's about ye dance for your supper?" She shimmied it to her middle and hula hooped with far more success than I ever had. I clapped my hands and cheered.
Mairi snorted. "Dancin' bear."
"Well done, Aggie. Well done." He tossed her a sardine from a bucket on his cart. "But a lady shouldna be shakin' her hips like that. Why dinna ye show some poise?" He placed a ball on the bear's nose. It held steady as she twirled in a dainty circle.
"Good job, Aggie!" The bear bowed.
The town bell rang, and excitement flared through me. I handed the man his cup. "Here you go. Well worth the price of an ale."
His brow furrowed. "What are ye giving it to me for?" He handed the cup to Aggie, who tipped her head back and downed the pint in one gulp.
I stared, slack jawed. "Well, I'll be damned."
Sarah Charles is the author of Beneath the Destiny Stone, a book she wrote to keep from going insane while recovering from a spinal injury. (It mostly worked). A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, Sarah graduated suma cum laude with degrees in Psychology and German. Since then, she's worked in the mental health field, owned a custom cake business, and given birth to three future super villains. She currently spends her days writing and working to bring food forests to Toledo through her charity The Three Penny Project. In her rare moments of free-time, Sarah dabbles in all things craftsy. She particularly enjoys wood-burning, rehabilitating old furniture, gardening, baking, and playing with clay.
