A SECRET LIST

He was born to a clan of noted warriors and musicians. Yet to protect his loved ones and escape the dark fate of his brothers, he abandons his identity. Hiding from relentless soldiers who want him dead, he vows to protect the woman he loves more than life, more than freedom, more than Scotland. But his presence throws her into danger.

                                 A VOW HONORED

She weds a stranger to save his life. But do vows make a marriage? When does a marriage become a marriage? What if she holds a different love inside her heart?

                                 A SACRIFICE MADE

Steeling himself against the pain, he condemns himself to a life of heartbreak without her. Wanting her desperately, knowing he can’t have her, he surrenders her and heads alone to a hostile land across the sea. Outlawed, with a price on his head, does she love him enough to give up castle, lands, and family, and risk the agony of surrendering her heart a second time? Or is there another way?

   EXCERPT FROM MASQUERADE MARRIAGE

Like a determined hero, the fugitive warrior strode through the door at the far end of the tiny stone kirk.

            Megan’s eyes widened. Her clenched jaw relaxed. Some of her dread dissolved.

            “Impressive.” Molly, Megan’s Irish maid, whispered from where they stood together in the vestibule.

            He stopped in front of the hand-carved altar and half-turned toward her. Megan pulled in an uneven breath. This Highlander, wearing formal kilts, was no scrawny lad grown older, nor was he a big, hairy Scot with a bushy beard. The tall, strapping soldier stood with legs braced as if about to do battle.

            Her heart skipped. Though she’d known Brody when she wore short skirts, this blond warrior was far more than she expected. Her pulse throbbed in her temples. Doubt niggled her brain. Brody was too tall, too obviously a Highlander. How could she hope to pass him off as a Lowland Laird? He appeared to have too big a chip on his shoulder to let her command him.

            Brody’s thick sandy hair swept the collar of his linen shirt. Lace-trimmed cuffs matched the white jabot at his muscular throat. A silver broach clapsed his crimson and black tartan to his wide right shoulder. His Claymore, dirk, and thick sword belt startled her.

            Megan suppressed a shudder. The English outlawed kilts. With his dress, Brody spat in the face of the English and further imperiled his life. Why?  

            His intense sapphire stare blazed a trail across the empty wooden pews toward her. His eyes made her feel dizzy as if she just danced a fast reel with a lively partner.

            Molly grinned and handed Megan the bridal flowers.

            What had she gotten herself into? 

My first book was published when my late husband was still living, thus the W.A. Swonger as author. I wrote using my initials because I wanted men to read the historical as well as women. Get a load of my full name - Wilmeth Anne Thomas Swonger Greene. Anne Greene works better, don't you think?

The following are manuscripts available for publication.