When Corporal Sean MacBranian awakens after being injured in battle, he is sure the luck o’ the Irish has run out on him. Or that he’s died and gone to Heaven. There can be no other explanation for the blond-haired, blue-eyed angel standing before him. But his “angel” is a truehearted lass named Ashlinn, and she wears a nurse’s uniform. Her tender ministrations have brought him back from the brink of death—and have given him a new reason for living.
Ashlinn knows their parting is inevitable; her handsome hero must return to the 69th infantry of the Union army, and there are no guarantees of his safe return. With most of her family already destroyed by the war ravaging America, she is sure she cannot survive another loss. Yet she feels powerless against the draw of Sean’s strong and steady heart. Neither time nor distance nor the danger of battle seems to lessen their bond. But when their secret letters are intercepted, the devoted nurse’s love will face the ultimate test . . .
“Being completely gentlemanly is overrated at times,” she said.
He draped her arm around his and pressed her hand against his forearm. “Perhaps it is,” he said as they began to walk.
With her free hand, she fussed with her skirt, using the excuse to keep their pace slow. Not only was she in no hurry to get back, she didn’t want him overexerting himself. All too soon, they were picking their way through the muddy patches that dotted the pathways between tents. Candlelight glowed from within a few of the tents already. Thankfully, the paths were empty of people for the most part. Cliste pushed her nose through the canvas door of their tent and dashed inside, leaving them alone.
Arm withdrawing from hers, Sean took a step back. Before they lost contact altogether, he caught up one of her hands, raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of it. The heady sensation of a man’s lips—this man’s lips in particular—upon the bare flesh of her hand was entirely new. Men had kissed her hand before, but always with a glove upon it. A thrill vibrated all the way down to her core. Her eyes shot open and she gasped at the pleasure of it. From beneath his dark brown locks, he gazed up at her from where he bent over her hand. Muscles low in her abdomen clenched, widening her eyes even farther.
“Guess I’m not a complete gentleman after all,” he whispered.
The husky tone of his voice touched things inside her that she longed for his skin to. Her face was afire with the scandal of her thoughts, and she couldn’t care less.
“Like I said, overrated,” she said in a breathy voice.
Heather McCorkle is an award-winning author of paranormal, steampunk, and historical fiction. When she is not writing, editing, or designing book covers and websites, she can be found on the slopes, the hiking trails, or on horseback. As a native Oregonian, she enjoy the outdoors nearly as much as the worlds she creates on the pages. No need to travel to the Great Northwest though; connect to her instead on her blog and her many social networking sites. You can also find her the first Monday night of every month at 6:00 pm Pacific Time on the #WritersRoad chat on Twitter, which she co-created and moderates. Entertaining readers and uncovering stories and points of view that haven't been covered are two of her greatest passions.
Facebook: Author Heather McCorkle
Buy the book:
Amazon: Honor Before Heart
Apple: Honor Before Heart
Google Play: Honor Before Heart
Kobo: Honor Before Heart
Barnes & Noble: Honor Before Heart