Monday, May 6, 2019

#CharacterInterview - "Branwyn’s Love" by Daryl Devore

Genre – medieval erotic romance
Tags – Daryl Devore, #DarylDevore, @daryldevore, Branwyn’s Love,
#medieval, #erotic, #romance, #daryldevore, #Traitorous


Daryl Devoré pens another hot read – the medieval romance - Branwyn’s Love.

The tale of a young woman sold as a courtesan in training. Branwyn arrives in a new land to begin daily lessons in the bewildering art of bedding a man.

The noblewoman chosen to be Prince Malacke’s bride rejects him by bedding his hated rival. Malacke turns his anger towards increasing the power and wealth of Black Dorn castle. And he succeeds until his attention is captured by the face of the woman who will be his queen.

Note: This book contains elements of domination, submission, and fetishes. If these concepts disturb you, please do not purchase or read this book. Branwyn’s Love was formerly known as Black Dorn and published by New Dawning.

A Brief Interview with Prince Malacke

What impression do you make when a person first meets you?
The impression I always make – a proud, strong prince. Although, Branwyn did tell me, she thought I was rude and arrogant when she first met me.

What is your greatest fear?
To be killed in battle and not spend the rest of my life with Branwyn.

What is your profession?
I am the Gon-dra. The prince of the realm. Heir to the throne. I fight battles and am learning how to benevolently rule the kingdom.

What skill do you have that you’re proud of?

I have been informed that stating my greatest skill might not be appropriate, so I will simply say – I am a great swordsman.


Is it not obvious? As a great swordsman, I can defeat an enemy, protect my land and my woman.

Describe your ideal woman.

A strong-willed woman. One who will not cower before me, but will stand up to me. Although, I fear I am going to spend a lot of time regretting that characteristic in Branwyn.

What trait do you like most about the person you fell in love with?

Her strength. Not physical strength, after all, she is a woman. But her personal strength. She was forced into a situation that she had no control over because of the greed of her family. But she did not wither like a flower. She accepted her fate and challenged it.


“Stop that crying or by all that is powerful, I will beat you.”
“Do not yell so. You will frighten the poor child.”
Through tears, Branwyn stared at her uncle and aunt. “I… I do not understand. Why must I go?”
Her aunt sat next to her. “It is your time, child. A husband has been chosen. You must leave us to join with him.”
“About time it is!” Her uncle’s face grew redder with each word. “One year shy of a score she is, and still unwed. She must fall to her knees to thank God someone wishes to marry such an old spinster.”
Branwyn slapped the arm of her chair. “I decline. It is my right. I shall not marry this man!”
“How many men do you think you can refuse?” Her uncle paced about the small room. “This is the fourth suitor to ask for your hand. You cannot. It is done. Your things are being loaded as we speak.” He jerked back a curtain in the window and pointed.
The door opened and in stepped a tall broad-shouldered soldier. “The carriage awaits.”
“Branwyn.” Aunt Selda patted her hand. “You have no dowry. This is a good match. He is a rich man. He will give you babies.”
Suspicion gnawed at Branwyn’s stomach. “And what did he give you?”
“Gold.” Uncle Egbert picked up his purse and dropped it, with a rattle, back onto the table.
Branwyn dried her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, stood, kissed her aunt on the cheek and strode out the door to face her destiny.
A carriage with two strong, brown horses stood at the entrance. Two guardsmen on horseback waited. The driver offered his hand to help her mount.
Branwyn paused and turned. No one waited to say goodbye. The door of her uncle’s manor closed with a determined firmness. Warm tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She blinked them back, then settled herself, pulled a blanket over her legs and snapped the curtains closed. If the family she’d grown up with refused to cry and wish her well, she would not shed a tear or turn for a final glance at her adopted home. With a shout and a shudder, the carriage pulled away.


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Two writers in one. Daryl Devoré writes hot romances with sexy heroes and strong heroines. Victoria Adams is Daryl's alter ego when she's inspired to write sweet romances with little to no heat.

Daryl (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two black cats - Licorice and Ginny-Furr Purrkins - and some house ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks on her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth, and a meteorite. She’s been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter, and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life’s an adventure and Daryl’s having fun living it.

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