Praise for Warrior's Moon
"This book has adventure, memorable characters, and tons of action. There is even romance! I absolutely loved it!!!" ~Laura (Goodreads)
"I loved this book! Great characters, I love a strong female lead. I really enjoy all of Jaclyn Hawkes books, but I must say this in one of my favorites!" ~ KMon (Amazon)
Later that afternoon, he wanted to trounce Chantaya himself when she tried to insist she could help carry bundles of reeds up the tallest ladder to his father, as he repaired the roof of the little village church. ‘Twas far too high for her safety, but convincing her of that was a day’s work of itself, let alone the thatching. Peyton’s father had had to tell her to stay down when she flat out ignored Peyton’s insistence. She was so intrepid ‘twas absolutely frustrating sometimes. Not a grain of fear in that silly child’s head! And climbing a ladder with her petticoats fair rioting in the breeze! It had been near scandalous. There were days when Peyton had no idea how to deal with that girl in the slightest.
He was still mad at her when the three of them walked back home together, and got even madder still when she laughed at him and his frustration with her. At that, she fair got the giggles. She put her arm round his waist to give him a light hearted hug at his obvious vexation and said, “Oh, come now, Papa Peyton. I lived through climbing the tall ladder quite nicely. No harm done. Stop being such an old crone now and laugh with me. ‘Twas an adventure, wasn’t it? I’ve never been up that high even when we climb the old tree by the cliff! Wasn’t it marvelous? I could see clear to the cross roads! ‘Twas fair refreshing! Was it not?”
Tristan chuckled and Peyton gave her a look of disgust and sighed, “Refreshing? One of these days you’re going to kill yourself, Chani, with the antics you attempt. And I’m not going to be the one to pick up the pieces. You’ll have to go and admit to your dear mother yourself how you ended your young life, because I haven’t the heart to break news like that to her.”
Chantaya only laughed again and gave his arm a squeeze. “Oh, yes you will, Peyton Wolfgar. You’ll always pick up the pieces for me. It’s well I know you. You’ve been my champion always and nothing will change that. It’s in the very soul of you. Being a champion. It’s fair branded onto your forehead.”
She changed her voice to a deeper pitch to imitate him and cupped her mouth and went on, “I am a knight in shining armor who will rescue small children, grandmothers and damsels of all varieties. If you are ever in need, simply call on Sir Peyton, the gallant! I will never let one down.” Peyton fair glared at her and she laughed and added, “Ever!”
They had reached the Kincraig cottage and Isabella opened the door to their voices, took one look at Peyton’s grimace and Chantaya’s giggles and said, “Gracious Pey, what’s she done this time to make you so sober? Or do you have a toothache?”
At that, Chantaya went off in a whole new spate of giggles, hugged him once again and walked up onto the porch.
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