The Knight and the Witch Series - with new reviews



England, winter, 1131

Elfrida, spirited, caring and beautiful, is also alone. She is the witch of the woods and no man dares to ask for her hand in marriage until a beast comes stalking brides and steals away her sister. Desperate, the lovely Elfrida offers herself as a sacrifice, as bridal bait, and she is seized by a man with fearful scars. Is he the beast?

In the depths of a frozen midwinter, in the heart of the woodland, Sir Magnus, battle-hardened knight of the Crusades, searches ceaselessly for three missing brides, pitting his wits and weapons against a nameless stalker of the snowy forest. Disfigured and hideously scarred, Magnus has finished with love, he thinks, until he rescues a fourth 'bride', the beautiful, red-haired Elfrida, whose innocent touch ignites in him a fierce passion that satisfies his deepest yearnings and darkest desires.


The Snow Bride delivers a thrilling tale of magic, adventure, and love.

I adored Magnus!!  I loved how he was not the flashy knight-in-shining-armor, but instead was battle-scarred and weary, was someone who's proved himself and could be counted on to keep fighting through any and every battle.  He desperately sought after a seemingly unattainable dream and watching him realize Elfrida was his dream come to life - what he wished for and then more - melted my heart.  The gentleness he showed Elfrida balanced wonderfully with his protectiveness that flared around her. 

Elfrida had a heart that overflowed with devotion and compassion, even as much as she struggled to truly find her place.  She had a special kind of wisdom and a stubborn tenacity that saw her through her journey, and afforded her the opportunity to learn that she wasn't on her own fighting battles anymore.

I enjoyed watching the two of them learn to compromise and trust each other - which was very much a challenge with their temperaments and instincts.  Their ability to communicate and make reparations quickly also showed strength and confidence.  Their strengths played well off the other, even if sometimes you were wanting to join the other in shaking someone... haha.

If you enjoy a adventure story filled with knightly brawn and magical good-vs-evil, this is a fantastic story to snuggle up with on the long, dark winter nights.

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Blurb Can a knight and his witch save seven kidnapped maidens? Sir Magnus and Elfrida strive to find the girls, but at what cost to their marriage?
December 31, 2019
Format: Kindle Edition
Quick read. Good for a cold, snow day! Takes you through the first year of marriage between our heroine and hero
When a shadowy piper kidnaps seven beautiful girls, can a wounded knight and his witch-wife save them? Will Sir Magnus and Elfrida find them in time—and at what cost?

Magnus, the fearless, battered crusader knight, and his fey wife, Elfrida, are happily married, but each of them carries a secret. Elfrida believes that being peasant-born will one day undermine her husband’s love for her. Wounded and scarred, Magnus fears nothing—except, perhaps, that he will not be able to give Elfrida her greatest wish—children.
Their fears are sharpened when high-born Lady Astrid appears at their manor and demands their help to find the seven missing girls. Though the lady clearly regards low-born Elfrida beneath her, why has she truly sought out Magnus, a ruthless knight? Which one of the kidnapped girls does she really want to recover so badly—and to what hidden purpose?
In the scorching summer heat, Magnus and Elfrida search together for the missing girls. Will they be able to rescue them in time? And can their own marriage survive?


     Before Magnus could move away from the shadows, Elfrida seized his arm. “I must come with you, sir. You and I alone, I think, until we are sure we have found Silvester’s lair.”     “Indeed?”
     She did not quail under his frown though it was a near thing. “Please,” she almost said, but she was done with beg­ging.
     “I have a plan,” she began as he shifted. When he strode into the sunlight, the rest of her words withered inside her mouth.     He hooked his hand into his belt. “I will not have you as bait.”
     He understood part of her idea, then. This would be only gos­sip-bait, she wanted to say, but Magnus’s growl stopped her.
     “So small you are,” he said. “So slender, still. If I were only more a man, this caper of yours would be impossible.” His fingers whitened on his belt and he fell silent.
     “What?” Magnus’s frustration raked through Elfrida’s mind like claws. As she stared at him, horrified, he jerked his head aside, checking no one was close. Her own feelings now raging, and even with all her magic she could not sense the rest of his thought. That was always the difficulty with magic and  thought sensing. She needed a cool, calm head to do such things and at present her thoughts and feelings were in tumult, with fear uppermost.
      “My lord?” What does he mean? “Please, Magnus.”
     They marched across the yard in the same arrow-straight diagonal that Tancred had taken toward the steps of the great hall. Magnus snatched her hand and veered left to the stables, acknowledging the smith coming the other way.
     “Are we leaving?” she ventured.
     “Let me think.”


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The Snow Bride - FREE FOR BLACK FRIDAY, through till midnight December 1st

My medieval romance novel, "The Snow Bride" is FREE for the next 3 days at Amazon, from Midnight, November 29 through until Midnight, December 1st 

She is Beauty but is he the Beast?

You can get the first part of this KNIGHT AND THE WITCH series for free and buy the second book in the series for under $5.00/£5.00

A Summer Bewitchment.
Date of Publication NOV 14th 2019

 Free with Kindle Unlimited
Buy Links Amazon USA 
Amazon UK  Amazon Canada Amazon Australia

Can a knight and his witch save seven kidnapped maidens? Sir Magnus and Elfrida strive to find the girls, but at what cost to their marriage?

Happy Reading!
 She is Beauty, but is he the Beast?

Elfrida, spirited, caring and beautiful, is also alone. She is the witch of the woods and no man dares to ask for her hand in marriage until a beast comes stalking brides and steals away her sister. Desperate, the lovely Elfrida offers herself as a sacrifice, as bridal bait, and she is seized by a man with fearful scars. Is he the beast?

In the depths of a frozen midwinter, in the heart of the woodland, Sir Magnus, battle-hardened knight of the Crusades, searches ceaselessly for three missing brides, pitting his wits and weapons against a nameless stalker of the snowy forest. Disfigured and hideously scarred, Magnus has finished with love, he thinks, until he rescues a fourth 'bride', the beautiful, red-haired Elfrida, whose innocent touch ignites in him a fierce passion that satisfies his deepest yearnings and darkest desires.


Book 2 now out! 

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Short Blurb

Can a knight and his witch save seven kidnapped maidens? Sir Magnus and Elfrida strive to find the girls, but at what cost to their marriage?

Read Chapter One of "The Snow Bride"

Here is another excerpt from "The Snow Bride" to tempt you:

Magnus was worried. The fire he had made should have brought his people. It was an old signal, well-known between them. His men should have reached the village by now—that had been the arrangement. They were bringing traps and provisions in covered wagons, and hunting dogs and horses. He had been impatient to start his pursuit of the Forest Grendel and so rode ahead, returning with the messenger until that final stretch when the man turned off to his home. He had ridden on alone, finding the wayside shrine.

But from then, all had gone awry. Instead of the monster, he had found an ailing witch, and the snowstorm had lost him more tracks and time.

Magnus shook his head, turning indulgent eyes to the small, still figure on the rough pallet. At least the little witch had slept through the night and day, snug and safe, and he had been able to make her a litter from woven branches. He would give his fire signal a little longer and then return Elfrida to her village. There he might find someone who could translate between them.

Perhaps she did have power, for even as he looked at her, she sat up, the hood of her cloak falling away, and stared at him in return. She said something, then repeated it, and he drew in a great gulp of cold air in sheer astonishment, then laughed.

“I know what you said!” He wanted to kiss her, spots and all.

He burst into a clumsy canter, dragging his peg leg a little and almost tumbling onto her bed. She caught him by the shoulders and tried to steady him but collapsed under his weight.

They finished in an untidy heap on the pallet, with Elfrida hissing by his ear, “Why have you done such a foolish thing as to burn all our fuel?”

He rolled off her, knocked snow off his front and beard, and said in return, “How did you know I would know the old speech, the old English?”

“I dream true, and I dreamed this.” She was blushing, though not, he realized quickly, from shyness.

“Why burn so wildly?” she burst out, clearly furious. “You have wasted it! All that good wood gone to ash!”

“My men know my sign and will come now the storm has gone.” He had not expected thanks or soft words, but he was not about to be scolded by this red-haired nag.

“That is your plan, Sir Magnus? To burn half the forest to alert your troops?”

“A wiser plan than yours, madam, setting yourself as bait. Or had your village left you hanging there, perhaps to nag the beast to death?”

Her face turned as scarlet as the fire. “So says any witless fool! ’Tis too easy a charge men make against women, any woman who thinks and acts for herself. And no man orders me!”

Magnus swallowed the snort of laughter filling up his throat. He doubted she saw any amusement in their finally being able to speak to each other only to quarrel. Had she been a man or a lad, he would have knocked her into the snow, then offered a drink of mead, but such rough fellowship was beyond him here.

“And how would you have fought off any knave, or worse, that found you?” he asked patiently. “You did not succeed with me.”

“There are better ways to vanquish a male than brute force. I knew what I was about!”

“Truly? You were biding your time? And the pox makes you alluring?”

“Says master gargoyle! My spots will pass!”

“Or did you plan to scatter a few herbs, perhaps?”

He thought he heard her clash her teeth together. “I did not plan my sickness, and I do not share my secrets! Had you not snatched me away, had you not interfered, I would know where the monster lives. I would have found my sister! I would be with her!” Her voice hitched, and a look of pain and dread crossed her face. “We would be together. Whatever happens, I would be with her.”

“This was Christina?”

“Is Christina, not was, never was! I know she lives!”

Magnus merely nodded, his temper cooling rapidly as he marked how her color had changed and her body shook. A desperate trap to recover a much-loved sister excused everything, to his way of thinking.

She called you a gargoyle! This piqued his vanity and pride.

But she does not think you the monster, Magnus reminded himself in a dazzled, shocked wonder, embracing that knowledge like a lover.

Lindsay Townsend

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A SESTERCE FOR HER THOUGHTS--new Roman Time-Travel (excerpt PG)

Get ready for a trip back in time nearly 2,000 years to of Rome’s invasion of Britain!


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Ancient Roman Time-Travel Romance

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Price: $4.99

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An ancient coin transports Olivia two thousand years back in time to the Roman invasion of Britannia and into the arms of a hunky legion commander!

Olivia Kent knows a brass sesterce is an ancient Roman coin with a value roughly calculated to be one fourth of a day’s pay. What she doesn’t know is that one particular sesterce is going to transport her two thousand years back in time to 43 AD and Rome’s invasion of Britannia. With the help of a Druid priestess, Olivia dresses as a Roman soldier, and meets Emperor Claudius, along with a handsome legion commander. She changes both of their lives for the better... and her own as well. But here’s her dilemma: should she remain back in the first century where she can make a difference? Or should she take a chance and try to return to her own time?

Quintus Antonius Avitus, commander of Legio XX Valeria Victrix, has served Rome faithfully but is weary of war. On this invasion, he comes across a puny, injured soldier, Livius. The soldier states that he is an American from a land to the west of Britannia--which is impossible since there are no lands past Britannia. But Livius is full of surprises, and also turns out to be a comely female named Olivia. Perhaps she is telling the truth? She is unlike any woman he has known. However, she insists that she cannot stay and must return to her home, despite the fact that Claudius wants her to accompany him to Rome. Quintus is torn: omnia vincit amor facit--does love conquer all? Or should he continue to auxilio imperatoris--help his Emperor?

Scene Set-Up:
Quintus Antonius Avitus, commander of Rome’s Legio XX, comes across a puny lad being assaulted by guards. Quintus carries the hurt boy to his own sleeping room so he can tend to the injuries. He has no idea that the boy is really a twenty-first century woman, Olivia Kent, who just time-traveled back to 43 AD.

Quintus took the few steps over to the fallen boy. He got down on one knee, and then, turning the lad over, he grimaced. Even with the helmet’s chin flap-guards, the young soldier had been cuffed across the face a few times. He looked the worse for wear--eyes swollen shut, cheeks bruised the colors of a rainbow, harsh breathing as if the action of taking a breath could hurt.

Perhaps ribcage damage. This boy had been harmed for the amusement of Quintus’ men.

Damn it to Hades.

Naturally, he felt responsible. Lifting up the boy as carefully as he could, he marveled at how light this willow thin creature was.

With a groan, the lad’s eyes cracked open. His eyes were blue... a bloodied blue, the color of blue-grey storm clouds. On seeing Quintus, the boy’s eyes widened.

Quintus gentled his voice. “Do not be alarmed. You are safe now. A doctor will tend to your wounds.”

If possible, the lad’s eyes grew wider but he did not speak. He did, however, bite his lower lip.

Quintus carried the injured bundle into the tent, bypassing the conference room for his own sleeping room. There was, of course, a hospital, a valetudinarium, based in the camp for the troops. But for some reason he wanted to oversee treatment for this boy. And the very best medical treatment meant using the Emperor’s physician, Xenophon.

Entering the room, he carefully set the injured bundle on the bed. His body slave must have heard sounds for he walked into the room and then spotted the boy. He stared down at him.

“Demetrius, I need some warm water and clean cloths. And fetch Xenophon. Tell him he has a new patient.”

The slave quickly left to accomplish his tasks. Quintus then reached down to unlatch the flap-guards under the chin, but the boy moved away in alarm.

“Do not fear. You will not be harmed. Allow me to take off your helmet so your injuries can be tended to.”

The boy started to sit up, but made a soft groan and fell back against the plush pillows on the bed. Those dastardly guards must have kicked him in the ribs.

Quintus pressed down on the lad’s shoulders. “Stay. Allow me to help you.”

No words but the boy bit his lower lip again.

Taking that response as an affirmative, Quintus then removed the helmet. By the gods, multi-colored bruises, blood flowing freely from gashes, swollen and split lips, and blackened eyes... the lad was so disfigured, his own mother would not have recognized him.

“What is your name, boy?”

In a low voice, the answer came haltingly. “My name is Liv-Livius. And you?”

Not only was Livius’ pronunciation barbaric, but he had to have been one of the few people on this good Gaia who were unaware of Quintus’ name and position. This confirmed the belief that despite the uniform, Livius was not a legionnaire nor a member of auxiliary units.

“Quintus Antonius Avitus, commander of Legio XX Valeria Victrix. Why are you here, Livius?”

The boy stammered again. “N-No... harm. I b-bear a gift for Caesar.” He pronounced Caesar incorrectly.” Perhaps he realized that for he then clarified, “For Claudius.”

“A gift?” This ragamuffin believed he had a gift worthy of an emperor?

Quintus ran his gaze over the boy’s inconsequential form. The leather armor and pleated under-skirt was of a pattern common in the days of Gaius Julius Caesar over one hundred years ago. Unusual, to say the least. The cloth tunica underneath was unbleached linen, so that was unremarkable, as was the over-the-shoulder belt--standard issue. But the breeches...

Setting aside the wet cloth, Quintus felt the material on the boy’s thigh. The lad almost jumped in the air.

“Steady on,” he soothed. “Your breeches are made of very fine fabric. Soft and sturdy. How very peculiar.”

Then his gaze fastened on Livius’ sandals. And yet they were like no sandals that Quintus had ever seen before. The entire foot was covered with a material akin to leather, but then not like leather at all.


I hope you enjoy Olivia’s and Quintus’ unusual story!

Susanne Marie Knight
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing with a Twist!

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Ariadne’s Diary: I’m in Love with my Teacher! #Lesbian #Erotica by @GiselleRenarde

Ariadne’s Diary
I’m in Love with my Teacher!
by Giselle Renarde
Series: The Lesbian Diaries
Book: 1

Ariadne is desperate for love, and she wants her teacher to give it to her.

Ms. Bambini’s about as buxom as they come. Just the sight of her in those silky white blouses and black leather skirts sends Ariadne’s brain to fantasy land. How can anyone be expected to concentrate with Ms. Bambini at the head of the class?

When Ariadne’s grades slip into the danger zone, Ms. Bambini offers up some most unusual tutoring sessions. Ariadne never imagined her life would head down such a torrid path, but will Ms. Bambini’s help become Ariadne’s downfall?

Lesbian fiction from award-winning queer Canadian author Giselle Renarde.

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Dear Diary,

I did it again.

I said I wouldn’t, but you know how it goes. Happens often enough.

There I was, sitting in class, waiting for Ms. Bambini to hand around our tests, when I got The Need between my legs. You know The Need: the one I can’t ignore, no matter how hard I try?

It doesn’t make sense. By that point in the day, I’d already run home to get off real fast. That was during lunch hour. You know Ms. Bambini’s class is right after lunch.

You’d think if I got myself off good enough, the satisfaction would last for an hour, at least. So why doesn’t it? Why does this keep happening to me?

The Need is ruining my life!

When Ms. Bambini came around with a stack of tests pressed to her big, beautiful breasts, all I could think was: ‘Oh, to be that paper! To be a flat, white nothingness that disappears into the mundane! A woman of Ms. Bambini’s ample assets would press me against her heaving bosom and not think twice about it!’

In my next life, I want to come back as paper.

Ms. Bambini set my test face-down on my desk. She flashed me a sympathetic smile as she walked by. You know better than anyone how crappy my marks have been this year. And clearly it’s not because I can’t write words on a page! Look! I’m doing it right now! I fill you with thoughts every day, Dear Diary: thoughts in word form, from my pen to your ears. Obviously I’m capable of doing it.

Thing is, when I’m sitting there in class and Ms. Bambini’s standing at the board talking about Ma and Pa Joad, it’s like I can’t even force myself to listen. I’m just staring at those gorgeous, golden breasts.

Her breasts are often swaddled in black bras, you know. Black, even when her blouse is light-coloured like it was today: creamy, shot with strands of golden thread. Her black skirt came down to her knees. So tight and form-fitting. It showcased her ass like you wouldn’t believe.
If you want to see a generously-proportioned hour-glass figure, take a look at Ms. Bambini. She’ll put your eye out.

Oh great! Now I’ve got The Need again. I can’t even get through telling you one story without The Need coming back. But you know what? I’m just going to cross my legs and think of England, or however that goes, because I really want to tell you what happened today.

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Re-Release of A CONTINENTAL MARRIAGE (PG excerpt)

Golden Wings Award WINNER--Best Overall Historical Romance Read

Re-Released! A Regency Romance Family Favorite!

Here's a little known bit of trivia: the model for A CONTINENTAL MARRIAGE's lovely cover is none other than my very own lovely daughter!


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Regency

Available electronically at and

Price: $3.99

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Available electronically at:


American Nicolette Turner has a bone to pick with the British. Not only is her country’s maritime rights being violated, but her English grandfather, Lord Eldredge, demands that she travel across the Atlantic to visit him. What she doesn’t know is that he intends for her to marry, thereby staying in England and having lots of babies.

The most eligible suitor is neighbor Victor Kincaid. Victor has severe money problems. Lord Eldredge offers to take care of the debts... if Victor marries Nicolette. At first Victor believes she’s a fortune-hunter, but soon becomes captivated by her. Can he convince her he wants more than a marriage of convenience?

Scene Set-Up:
The financial arraignments have been made. Victor decides it’s now time to propose to Nicolette. 

Damn. Asking for this woman’s hand was going to be deuced awkward, to say the least.

Inhaling deeply, Victor walked into the drawing room and scanned its yellow interior. A cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace which stood between two immense paintings. Just beyond the hearthrug in the middle of the drawing room, a table displayed the nuncheon meal. Cold meats, cheeses, pickles, jellies, breads, and fruits--everything a man could want to assuage his hunger. But more important than food, a crystal decanter of sherry beckoned to him.

It would have to wait. Where the devil is Nicolette?

The two settees around the table were empty and not a sound other than the snapping and popping of flames disturbed the tranquil air.

He released his breath. Was he supposed to seek her out? “Damn,” he repeated, this time out loud.

A movement by the large wing-backed chair near the fireplace caught his attention. It was Nicolette, so curled within the chair’s comfortable borders that, from his vantage, he had not seen her.

“Is something wrong, Lord Cushing? Is the food not to your liking?”

She looked an odd mixture of mischievousness and grandeur. Her delicately arched eyebrows were lifted in an indifferent manner, however, the twinkle in her grey eyes revealed amusement at having caught him in an unguarded moment.

“Er, no, not at all.” He cleared his throat, then gestured toward the table. “Shall we?”

Nodding, she left the chair to pick up a dish. She must not have been very hungry for she chose only a few cubes of cheese, a biscuit, apple slices, and strips of pineapple. “I find our host’s hospitality most agreeable. I never expected to feast on pineapple, quite a costly fruit in these parts Margaret tells me.” Nicolette chose one of the settees and sat.

He made a move to pour her a glass of sherry, but she declined the wine.

Pity. It would have made his ordeal easier if she were a trifle elevated.

He sat opposite her on the other settee and balanced a full plate on his lap. How should he begin? “Lady Nicolette--”

“Perhaps it’s time we called each other by our Christian names.”

He smiled. She was going to make this easy for him. “Yes. Yes, certainly, Nicolette. I realize we have not known each other long, however, our families have been neighbors and friends for close to two hundred years.”

“My father’s family,” she corrected.

“Yes, of course.” Why would she even mention her mother’s connections? He ran his hand over his hair, then took a drink of sherry. “I would have preferred for us to get better acquainted before...”

“Before what?”

He glanced into her earnest eyes. So, she was not going to make it easy. “Nicolette, as you are aware, shopping is not the sole purpose of being in London today. It is your grandfather’s wish to bring us... together.”

She met his gaze unflinchingly. “And he uses his wealth to achieve his ends.”

Victor’s sentiments exactly, but why protest when he had already agreed to the arrangement? “As I am in need of funds, as are you, I see no reason to quibble about the circumstances that unite us in marriage.”

Her nostrils flaring, she straightened her back. In truth she looked as formidable as an avenging fury. “Marriage? I must have missed something important. When did you propose?”

“Damn.” He did not mean to swear; the word just slipped out--again.

Uncertainty assailed him. Perhaps she was not as amenable as Lord Eldredge believed. And yet marriage to Nicolette was a tolerable solution to his dilemma. His sister Leticia had not registered dissent when Victor had broached the subject, which was quite a relief, considering her sensibilities. Her departed Stanley had been close to the poor house, and news of the dwindling Kincaid finances must have been a topic of great concern to her. With the Earl’s backing, Leticia need never worry about monetary matters again.

Which was a moot point unless he could win over this termagant. So how should he handle Nicolette?

Hoping to gain insight from the sherry’s potent, fortified fumes, he refilled his glass, then took another sip. As the wine warmed his insides, he thought of her father, and how Ian would on occasion turn mulish when forced to act contrary to his inclinations. Victor’s job then, was to convince her that this marriage was in her own best interests.

“My dear Nicolette, if I may.” Victor set aside his glass and his plate, then sat next to her. “You are right. I did not propose--properly or otherwise.” He held her hand, and was amused to note a pink blush covering her cheeks. “It is my fervent hope that my offer of marriage will have a favorable reception. I confess it quite impossible to conceal the anxiety with which I await your reply.”

She pulled her hand away. “I-I find that difficult to believe.”

He reclaimed it, not only to exert control over her, but to be truthful, he enjoyed the softness of her skin. “My sentiments are bona fide, Nicolette. It seems my future lies in these delicate hands. As you pointed out at last Saturday’s dinner party, I have been neglecting my duty to unite with a gently bred lady in matrimony.”

Her comment was most unexpected. “Piffle,” she said as she turned away.


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist!

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