Learn how your ad can appear here! Get Your Vision Board Iphone/Ipod App and start moving toward your dreams today! Books by this Author A Crimson Frost Monet held her breath—allowed her hands to fist where they lay in her lap. The sound of the horses charging—of powerful hooves beating upon the ground—of leather straining and armor braced for battle echoed—thundered as a violent storm.   Love Me SHE HAD ALWAYS LOVED HIM…FOREVER IT SEEMED SHE HAD LOVED HIM. YET, WHEN SO MANY OTHERS LOVED HIM, TOO—WHAT HOPE DID SHE HAVE OF OWNING HIS LOVE IN RETURN? Jacey Whittaker couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t loved Scott Pendleton—the boy next door. She couldn’t remember a time when Scott hadn’t been in her life—in her heart.   Saphyre Snow Descended of a legendary line of strength and beauty, Saphyre Snow had once known happiness as princess of the Kingdom of Graces. Yet, a strange madness had poisoned great minds—a strange fever inviting Lord Death to linger.   The Highwayman of Tanglewood Faris gasped as a gloved hand of a sudden covered her mouth from behind...''Be still. The Highwayman of Tanglewood owns ya now.'' Faris smiled...as he whispered, ''Do not struggle. I'll not harm ya, lass...Come away with me, sweet Faris,'' the highwayman whispered. ''What say ye?''   The Visions of Ransom Lake Youthful beauty, naïve innocence, a romantic imagination thirsting for adventure…an apt description of Vaden Valmont, who would soon find the adventure and mystery she had always longed to experience…in the form of a man.   Feature Articles: - In Defense of Maurice Clarett... Click here for more >>

Bright pink and warm lavender on a canvas of night blue was the painted sky of sunset as Faris Shayhan walked through the Tanglewood Forest. She was glad for the glimpse of a meadow ahead--a break in the trees which would allow her to look heavenward into the beauty of nature's twilight painting above.

The moment she had left Tremeshton Manor her heart had begun to swell with renewed hope and joy. Her lungs even seemed better able to draw breath. Faris felt lighter, freer and happier than she had in months. As she stepped out of the forest and into the Tanglewood meadow, she marveled at the beauty of the evening. Soon the pinks and lavenders of sunset would turn to great curtains of purple, folding over the world as night gathered. Already the hum of the crickets' song soothed her senses, the scent of wild flowers and lilacs in the meadow caressed her tattered nerves with their comforting perfume.

She paused in awe of the colors of the meadow, soft greens of grass, sweet yellow buttercups, lavender of lilac, creamy sprigs of pussy willow. All of it, the color, the freshness of the air, the melody of the crickets--all of it served to soothe Faris, to lighten her heart.

Yet as she set her satchel down, closing her eyes to revel in the beauty of the evening, the soft breezes brought something else to her--a rhythm--a horse carrying a rider. At first it seemed far off and Faris remained calm, but fear leapt to her soul at the thought of Kade Tremeshton! Perhaps the house mistress had delivered her note to Lady Tremeshton too early! Perhaps Kade Tremeshton had been provoked to fury and now rode after her!

Faris knew by the sound of the mad gallop there was not time to hide. She stood vulnerable, unprotected in the midst of the evening meadow--as helpless as an injured rabbit. It was senseless to run. Through the trees she could see the shape of a horse and rider approaching in furious haste!

Faris' eyes widened as she saw the rider's hood, his cape billowing in the wind as he rode toward her. His mount was as black as moonless night and angrily snorted as it reared up before her. Instinctively, Faris covered her eyes, certain she would next be trampled by powerful hooves. Yet she was not, and ventured a glance at the rider.

The hooded rider seemed to be looking at her--his horse pacing back and forth as it too seemed to study her. The man was enormous, covered from head to toe in black clothing. From his black hood and cloak to his blackest of breeches to black boots cuffed just under his knee. For a moment Faris wondered if perhaps the grim reaper was upon her, come to claim her before Kade Tremeshton did. For long moments the only sound was the horse's snort, the leather of the rider's saddle, the whip of his cape as he flung one length of it over his broad shoulder.

"Who are ya?" the rider asked in a low, raspy near whisper. "And what are ya about here in the night?"

"I . . . I . . . I'm only Faris and . . . I'm on my way to Loch Loland Castle," Faris managed. "At sunset?" the rider asked. "Only ghosts and highwaymen wonder at dusk, lass," he said. Faris sensed his raspy whisper was intentional, a method of hiding the true intonation of his voice, but his accent was unmistakable--a man from the island. It was then she realized with whom fate had matched her in that moment.

"The Highwayman!" she gasped.

The Highwayman of Tanglewood was legendary through all the land. With the will and purpose of Robin Hood, the Highwayman of Tanglewood set upon only those who were wealthy. Further, only those who had come by their wealth in dishonest and hateful ways. The Highwayman of Tanglewood never murdered and it was said he never robbed any honest person--only dishonest and arrogant persons who used the poor and less fortunate to further fleece their gold-lined pockets.

"Hush, lass!" the highwayman ordered, dismounting and striding toward Faris. Faris shook her head, took several steps backward, certain she'd met her doom. "Know ya not the trees have ears, they do," he whispered.

He stood directly before her now--tall, dark, forboding. Reaching up, he pushed his black hood from his head, revealing a black mask, dark mustache and goatee. Faris Shayhan found herself looking into the smoldering eyes of the Highwayman of Tanglewood. In the faded light of eveing the mask he wore perfectly concealed any feature of his face around his eyes, nose and cheeks. The mustache and goatee completed the concealment. It would be impossible to determine the true identity of the Highwayman of Tanglewood.

"Why is it ya travel under the cover of evenin'?" the highwayman asked.

"I . . . I . . . it was the most convenient time to leave," she stammered.

The highwayman growled low in his throat and began walking around her, prowling like a panther stalking his prey. He studied Fairs--looking from her head to her feet and then from feet to head again. His study was thorough.

"Leave where, lass? What reason would a bonny young lass the like of ya have to leave a place?" he asked.

"Are . . . are you going to harm me, sir?" Faris asked. Though she felt he meant her no damage, she was yet driven to ask.

"It is unwise to travel at night, lass," the highwayman said as he stopped his investigation of her and stood straight before her once again. "Rogues and criminals and wicked men of every sort roam at night, they do. Even highwaymen who might steal something from a young lass, sooch as yarself," he whispered.

Faris was mesmerized by the flash in his eyes, by the shear height of his head and breadth of his shoulders.

"Are . . . are you going to steal something from me, sir? I . . . I haven't much, but I will gladly give you all that I do have," Faris said, certain she was about to be robbed.

"I might indeed, steal something from ya, lass," the highwayman said, grinning a rogue's grin. "It might be I'll steal yar satchel there," he said pointing to her satchel. "Or I might instead steal away yar innocence."

Faris gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Could it be she'd only just escaped the grip of one evil man to fall carelessly into the grip of another? The highwayman laughed, no doubt amused by her astonished expression. His smile flashed in the night like starlight--white teeth against all the blackness of his wardrobe.

"But me thinks tonight..." the highway man began, reaching out and taking Faris' face between his large, gloved hands. "Me thinks tonight I'll steal yar kiss instead." Faris' eyes widened with surprise, her heart hammered with fear mingled with some sort of wild exhilaration. "Only yar kiss tonight, bonny lass," the Highwayman of Tanglewood whispered. "Only yar kiss."

Faris couldn't breath! She felt faint--but not from fear. Somehow her breathlessness, the weak sensation in her knees was not the product of fear, but of some sort of unthinkable, unfathomable delight! She fancied she had lost her senses--gone mad somehow. Delight--in anticipation of a thief stealing her kiss? She should struggle! She should! Yet her limbs would not obey her mind's command and she stood still, unmoving, frozen with a astrange delightful fear.

"Ah, pretty little lass," the highwayman whispered as his gloved thumb caressed her lower lip for a moment. "Close yar eyes and let the Highwayman of Tanglewood rob ya now."

Faris shook her head, unable to believe what was happening. But as the highwayman's head descended toward hers, the spell he had woven around her, the magic of the night breeze--all of it enveloped her and she did, indeed close her eyes.

"Ya smell of the heather, of the meadow, of lavender and rose petals," the highwayman whispered as his breath, hot on her neck, caused Faris' body to tingle with pleasure. "Yar skin is soft, and sweet," he breathed. Faris trembled as she felt his lips brush the bare flesh of her neck. "And do ya taste as sweet, lassy?" he asked. His lips pressed to hers in a firm but tender kiss. "Do ya taste as sweet as the lavender of yar skin smells?"

Faris gasped as the highwayman kissed her once more. His lips lingered soft against her own. With her next breath, his hand gripped her chin, his kiss abruptly more intense, hot and moist. This was a rogue's kiss! Faris knew it was, for although she had never before experienced the like of it, she had seen it once--seen the milk maid at Tremeshton kissed in like manner by a visiting coachman. In truth, Faris had always longed for a rogue's kiss, for it seemed somehow more genuine, more passionate.

But this--this was a stranger! The thought shouted in Faris' mind and she pulled away from the highwayman--away from his strong grasp and rogue's kiss.

The Highwayman of Tanglewood smiled--his white teeth bright in the moonlight.

"Ah, yar sweet as honey warmed in the summer sun, ya are, lass," he whispered. Faris' entire body was still erupting with goosebumps as he continued to look at her. "Sweet as honey," he repeated. "And thrice as bonny."

Faris could only stand staring up at him in astonishment. The Highwayman of Tanglewood! He'd come upon her in the meadow and . . . and stolen something from her! Yet Faris knew he hadn't really stolen anything--for something which was given could not be considered stolen.

"Now, off with ya to Loch Loland Castle, lass," he said, striding from her and mounting his horse. "But not alone," he added. "For I'll see ya safely there myself--though ya may not know it." The magnificent black beast he sat, reared up, neighing madly as the Highwayman of Tanglewood pulled his hood back over his head.

Breaking into a gallop, the highwayman rode past Faris to a nearby lilac tree. Snapping off a sprig of fragrant blossoms, he then rode to her once more. His black beast of a stallion impatiently stompied the ground as its rider paused, tossing the sprig of lilacs to Faris.

"Goodbye, sweet Faris of Loch Loland Castle," the highwayman said. Faris again saw the white of his teeth flash as he smiled at her. "And I thank ya, I do--for the wares which I've stolen from ya this night!"

He was off again in a mad gallop across the meadow. Faris looked up into the purple curtains of night's sky. The Highwayman of Tanglewood! It was as a dream! And such a kiss as the stuff of dreams, too! Oh, what a blessed day it had been--deliverance from Tremeshton Manor and its arrogant young master and a chance, romantic rendezvous with the Highwayman of Tanglewood. Faris shook her head, knowing she would never again be the same girl she'd been before that moment--before that blissful, dream born moment in the meadow when the Highwayman of Tanglewood had stolen a kiss.