Her Dark Knight

Her Dark Knight

by Sharon Cullen
Her Dark Knight

Her Dark Knight

by Sharon Cullen

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Madelaine Alexander is on a mission. When her boss sends her to the hottest nightclub in town to meet with the owner, she won't be deterred, even if that means standing in line for fifty-eight minutes in torturous heels while she'd rather be home in her pj's with a bowl of popcorn.

A Knight of the Templar, Christien Chevalier was given immortality along with the responsibility of protecting the treasure of the Templars. He's been unwavering in his task for centuries until his one true love—who died seven hundred years ago—shows up in his club, demanding his attention.

Christien couldn't protect Madelaine when they first fell in love. She was married to a lord and he was simply a knight. Now, through some unknown miracle, she stands before him again and they have a second chance. But Christien fears that Madelaine is being used as a pawn in a dangerous game, a game of good versus evil that could affect all of mankind...

84,000 words

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781426892714
Publisher: Carina Press
Publication date: 11/28/2011
Format: eBook
Sales rank: 625,593
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

Sharon Cullen is the USA Today bestselling author of the Highland Pride series as well as many novels of Regency romance, romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance. If you’d like to find out more about the author and her books, you can visit her website at sharoncullen.net. She is addicted to social networking, so you can find her on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Friend her! Like her! Follow her! 

Read an Excerpt

Balatradoch, Scotland


In nomine Patris

The fever was catching up to him. Slowing him down.

Killing him.

His knees buckled. By the grace of God and the sheer force of will that sustained him through his long journey, he forced himself upright.

His only thought was to put one foot in front of the other. He would think of nothing else. For to think would be to remember.

...et Filii...

And to remember would be his downfall.

His foot slipped. He fell to one knee, sinking into the slime. His will faltered and he ceased to struggle. He welcomed death, but not yet. Not before he completed his mission.

The bundle he'd carried from France to Scotland slipped from numb fingers. He fumbled the precious package, catching it before it landed in the mud and gently cradled it against his chest.

For his brothers he forced himself to stand. For his master he moved forward. For his lost love he wept.

...et Spiritus Sancti...

Mud sucked at his boots, shackling him, its cold fingers pulling him down. He dropped to both knees and slowly pitched forward. He lay on the cold earth, his lungs burning with sickness, struggling to breathe, the rain running off him in rivulets. Through the driving storm he glimpsed the rough outline of a building. A chapel mayhap, but it was too difficult to tell and his vision kept fading.

With a last burst of energy he curled his almost frozen fingers into claws and dug at the mud, creating a hole big enough to hold the treasure entrusted to him.

This watery cavity was not what his master intended when giving him this mission, but it would have to do.

He rose to his knees and pulled the white tunic emblazoned with the red, eight-point cross from his satchel. Holding the piece of clothing to his chest, he rocked back and forth, muttering disjointed prayers. Prayers a sinner like he had no business voicing.

He kissed the tunic before lining the hole with the cloth that had once brought him such pride. And had ultimately been his downfall.

He carefully placed the wrapped package inside the hole and pushed the mud over it until nothing remained but a scar in the earth.

With the last of his strength spent, he fell to his side. He accomplished what he'd been commanded to do. The precious treasure was safe from the enemy. He now welcomed the death that shadowed him for close to two years. Mayhap, if God was willing, he would meet the missing half of his heart on the other side.

He closed his eyes. His lips moved, but he did not know if sound escaped.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

He breathed his final breath.


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