The ​Hawk (Highland Guard 2.) 4 csillagozás

Monica McCarty: The Hawk Monica McCarty: The Hawk

Handpicked ​by Robert the Bruce to help him in his quest to free Scotland from English rule, the elite warriors of the Highland Guard face their darkest days. When Bruce is forced to flee, his bid for freedom rests on the shoulders of one extraordinary warrior.

Erik MacSorley is a brilliant seafarer who has never encountered a wind he could not harness or a woman he could not win—until he drags a wet, half-naked “nursemaid” out of the waters off the Irish coast. Ellie’s ordinary appearance belies the truth: She is in fact Lady Elyne de Burgh, the spirited daughter of the most powerful noble in Ireland. Worse, this irresistible woman is determined to prove herself immune to Erik’s charms—a challenge he cannot resist.

Her captor may look every inch a rugged warrior, but Ellie vows that it will take more than a wickedly suggestive caress to impress her. Yet Erik will sweep away Ellie’s resistance with a desire that resonates deep within her heart. Still, he is a man… (tovább)

Eredeti megjelenés éve: 2010

Recorded Books, Prince Frederick, 2011
ISBN: 9781664403345 · Felolvasta: Robert McNab
Ballantine Books, New York, 2010
400 oldal · ASIN: B003F3PKKY
Ballantine Books, New York, 2010
382 oldal · puhatáblás · ISBN: 9780345518248

Várólistára tette 1

Kiemelt értékelések

Nüx_Játékterme P>!
Monica McCarty: The Hawk

Nagyon tetszett ez, nem gondoltam volna, hogy ugyanúgy le fog kötni, mint az első kötet, de Ellie talán még szerethetőbb női főhös volt, mint Christina.

Monica McCarty: The Hawk

Annyira szeretném szeretni és tulajdonképpen nem is tudok rá rosszat mondani, de nem megy. Pedig vannak benne izgalmas és aranyos és meglepő részek, és az egész ötlet nagyon jó szerintem, külöknösen tetszik, hogy komoly történelmi alapokra épít, de… egyszerűen nincs sodrása. Helyenként annyira untat a szereplők elmélkedése, hogy időrő- időre azon kapom magam, hogy már megint csak a párbeszédeket olvasom szégyen szemre. Hiába egy nőfaló dög Erik, a viking (vagyis viking-skót-kalóz), hiába badass, a maga középkori, barbár módján, ha ez úgy van leírva, hogy bármikor gond nélkül félre lehet tenni a könyvet és akármennyi ideig is pihenhet, mire megint eszembe jut, hogy vajon melyik terjedelmes gondolatfonál közepén hagytam abba. Komolyan, egy csók egyik pillanata és a másik között ezek átgondolják az egész életüket meg még Skócia történelmét is.
Egynek jó, tervezem folytatni, de azt hiszem, most egy ideig nem lesz sürgős.

Népszerű idézetek


“It’s reckless,” Randolph protested angrily.
Erik shook his head. The lad really was hopeless. “Now, Tommy, don’t go throwing around words you don’t understand. You wouldn’t know reckless if it came up and bit you in the arse. It’s reckless only if there is a chance they’ll catch us, which—as you’ve already heard—they won’t.”


“Rocks?” Randolph said, his voice taking on a frantic edge. “But how can you see anything in this mist?”
Erik sighed. If the lad didn’t learn to relax, his heart was going to give out before he reached three and twenty. “I can see all I need to. Have a little faith, my fearless young knight.”
The dramatic high cliffs of the headland came into view ahead of them. On a clear day the majestic dark walls topped with emerald green hillsides took your breath away, but tonight the looming shadows looked menacing and haunting.
He looked back over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow, a hint of admiration coming into his gaze. The English dog wasn’t half-bad. In fact, he was good enough to throw off Erik’s timing. Running parallel to the shore wasn’t going to work; he was going to have to lead them straight in and turn—directly into the wind—at the last minute.
The English captain might be good …
But Erik was better.
A broad smile curved his mouth. This was going to be more fun than he’d anticipated.


“You’ve the Devil’s own luck, Hawk. But one day it’s going to run out.”
“Aye, perhaps you are right.” Erik gave him a conspiratorial wink. “But not tonight.”


“It’s not only skill but luck,” he said dryly in perfect aristocratic French. “I’ve never seen anything like it. He could land in a cesspit and come out smelling sweet.”
There was something in his voice that caught her attention. “You don’t like him?” She tried to speak softly under the boisterous din of the men around her, who were still celebrating their victory.
He looked at her as if she were daft. “Of course I like him. Everyone likes him. It’s impossible not to.”
Ellie tilted her head, puzzled by his reply, until it dawned on her: he was jealous. She supposed it was understandable. Though the dark-haired pirate was tall, lean, and handsome in his own fashion, he was young and couldn’t possibly hope to compete with the strapping, golden-god, seafaring warrior in the prime of his manhood.


“This is quite a little storm, isn’t it, te bheag?” he shouted over the roar of the wind and rain.
She looked at him as if he were a madman. “Just what do you consider a big storm?”
Despite the circumstances he chuckled. “This is nothing. Did I ever tell you about the time—”
“Erik,” she cut him off with an exasperated shout as a big gust of wind ripped across the hull. She gripped the rail of the boat until her fingers turned white. He’d tied a rope around them both, but she was so slim he worried about her blowing over. “Do you mind if I hear your story later? After this ‘little’ storm is over?”
He shrugged carelessly. “Suit yourself, but it’s a good one.”
“And probably gets better every time.”
He shook his head. What a lass! Even in the midst of hell she found her sarcasm.


He shot her a look. “I couldn’t take the chance that you wouldn’t listen to me.”
“So you decided to give me no choice in the matter.”
He grinned unrepentantly. “Of course you have a choice; I just decided to ensure you picked me.”

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