For the price of honor, he must walk away from the woman he loves...
Orphaned young, a childhood of loneliness and brutality led Sir Ronan O'Connor to join the Knights Templar and vow never to return to Ireland. But now a mission to transport a cache of Templar armaments for King Robert the Bruce forces the knight back to his homeland. Under his protection on the journey is an Irish nobleman and his daughter, Lathir McConaghy. Trained in combat, Lathir will bend to noman . . .
After the death of her betrothed in battle, Lathir guards her heart fiercely. Until an attack at sea forces her and Ronan to rely on each other for their survival. In the storm-filled days adrift at sea, a passionate bond forms between Lathir and the fierce warrior. In a realm torn by treachery and turmoil, they fight for their future even as secrets threaten to destroy their mission, and any chance at love.
"Forbidden Realm is an AWESOME book! Diana Cosby outdid herself!! The
characters, plot, pacing, setting...breathtaking!!!" — Kathy Altman
“Diana Cosby is brilliant. This is my favorite book out of all of the
forbidden books. Ronan was such a decent man and Lathir was the perfect
heroine. She was strong and feisty in her own right and stared down any
opponent without fear. I was rooting for this couple from the get go and
I was so happy with how the book ended. Everyone deserves their own
happy ever after. Ms. Cosby I was utterly enchanted with this book and I
can't wait to read the next new book you write.” — Alison Pridie,
Reviewer
"I knew from previous reads that Ms. Cosby is an amazing writer, but I
think Forbidden Realm is my fave so far. I loved that Lathir is
determined, stubborn, independent, and not in an insufferable way
either, she is courageous and can take care of herself knowing the use
of a blade. As I read the story I fell in love with her more and more.
With Rónán was insta love for me, his quiet command, loyalty, powerful
without being overwhelming, his soft heart. They are quite a match, but
their road to HEA is hard and life threatening. The ending though steals
the show, I can't tell you because it would be a spoiler but... Many
wrongs are righted leaving me with a happy heart. WOW I am still
grinning even hours after it. It was perfect." — seelk, reviewer
Reading Diana Cosby's novels, I'm distinctly taken back to reading
Voyager, my first Diana Gabaldon!" - Kim Castillo
“The Forbidden Series is captivating romance at its best!” — KElizabeth
Green, GA, USA
Choking on the stench, Lathir clung to Rónán as thick flakes of the charred sail tumbling within soot-laden smoke engulfed her. She tugged her cape over her mouth, tried to make out her father on the enemy ship through the billowing rolls of foul murk.
With the next swell the Aodh lurched upright.
Rónán hauled her back. “Look out!”
A strip of the flaming sail swirled past, landed a hand’s length away, slid in a fiery trail down the angled deck.
Tears clogged her throat as the ship disappeared into the fog. “They are leaving!”
His grip on her tightened as she instinctively fought his hold. “They are, and we canna stop them now. ’Tis imperative you be calm.”
“Calm?” Riotous emotion burning in her chest, Lathir took in the horror of the bloody bodies strewn about the deck, men she’d trained with, had grown up with. Not a single one lived. She wanted to cry, but anger won out. Grief had no place now. “My warriors are dead, the Aodh is ablaze, and the small boat, our only hope of escape, is destroyed. Once the ship goes down, we will die!”
As if mocking her, the cog groaned, then gave a violent shudder. The deck dropped a foot and buckled, exposing the hull, the fire creeping up large portions of the damaged wood.
A burst of wind hurled past. Yellow-red flames clawed skyward on a growing roar, consuming wood with merciless disregard as fire swept across the deck.
Heat built around them.
Lathir coughed into her cloak.
“Help me shove a small boat overboard,” Rónán yelled. “Mayhap we can keep it afloat until we reach land.”
Charred planks clung to the small craft, and flames spurted from the side. Regardless of her doubts of the vessel’s seaworthiness, she gripped the side, shoved, prayed.
Another gust buffeted her. Then, as if the heavens were granting an unspoken wish, a cold droplet pelted her face, then another.
Relief welled in her throat as beads of rain and ice pinged off the deck. Beneath the torrent, bursts of whitish gray smoke spewed in the twist of black with an angry hiss. “’Tis raining!”
Covered in soot and blood, with ferocity a stamp on his features, Rónán stood on the deck gazing skyward. At this moment, to her, he seemed invincible.
The next swell rolled beneath them; surrendering wood groaned as the cog was shoved up.
Charred decking broke free, plummeting into the smoke-filled hull in an awkward twist.
“Saint’s breath,” Lathir gasped, stumbling against him. “The ship breaking up!”
Rónán caught her as another shudder wracked the cog. “Hold on!”
Timber cracked.
The sodden planks beneath them collapsed.
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