The Grail King by Joy Nash

The Holy Grail of legend unites a Druid hermit and the daughter of his enemy in The Grail King, a lushly sensual tale of magic and betrayal.

Follow the magical Holy Grail and its Druid Keepers two centuries before King Arthur. Owein, a cursed Druid Seer, lives alone in the ruins of a mountain village. When Clara arrives seeking aid, Owein’s first impulse is to turn her away--until he discovers she seeks a Druid Grail that could be the key to his people's salvation...or their destruction.

“Not since Mary Stewart’s Merlin trilogy has the magic of Avalon flowed as lyrically off the pages. Nash captures the myths of the Druids in a fresh, exciting approach delivering a tale that grabs hold of your heart and reaches deep into your soul bringing forth joy and a belief in the old ways bound with the new.” —RT BOOKreviews, Top Pick, 4 1/2 stars

“The Grail King is a magnificent journey filled with adventure, magic, friendship, and honor that will make it difficult to put down until the end. It’s a brilliantly written tale…with its strong undertones of conflict between good and evil....Beautifully written with dynamic lead characters and several equally potent secondary players, The Grail King will put readers into its magical hold right from the beginning. Don’t miss this terrific novel!” —Romance Reviews Today

“Make sure you have plenty of free time before starting The Grail King by Joy Nash because you will not want to stop reading until reaching the stunning conclusion, which hints at what is to come in future books.” —CK’s Kwips & Kritiques

“The Grail King turned out to be a rare jewel of a book, which grabbed my attention from the beginning and kept me enthralled until the very end.…Wonderful, complex characters, an exciting, adventurous plot, and a great romance…I don’t know how I’ve missed reading Ms. Nash’s work before now, but be assured she goes on my auto-buy list. Do yourself a favor and read The Grail King.” —Once Upon a Romance Review

“Readers hang on! Joy Nash is going to take you for a thrilling ride.” ~ New York Times bestselling author Susan Squires

At the big Celt's scowl, Clara clutched the blanket more firmly to her breasts. "I was told he lived in this valley, but the storm turned me around. Do you know of him? If you show me the path to his door, I'll be gone as soon as my clothes are dry."

Her reluctant host raised his brows. He had the look of a warrior about him, his broad chest stretching his animal skin shirt to the extremity of its rough seams. Clara stared at the corded muscles in his forearms.

"Ye'll nay be going far, lass," he said. "Not half-frozen as ye are. Your feet willna bear even your slight weight, not for a day, at least."

As if to underscore his assessment, a shiver overtook her. Her body was ice cold, as if winter raged inside. She barely felt the fire in the hearth, though beads of sweat stood out on the Celt's forehead. The musk of his perspiration reached her nostrils.

"The old Druid," she persisted. "He's a Seer. He can find things that are lost or stolen. Surely you know of him. Does he live nearby?"

To her surprise, her companion stood abruptly and gave her his back. "There be few Druids left alive," he said without turning. "Your army has done a fine job of putting them to the sword."

Clara stared at the back of his head. Again he spoke the truth and again she had no answer. But she had no choice--she had to gain his cooperation. She had to find the Seer, and it was likely this man could lead her to him.

"Yes, of course," she replied to his broad shoulders. Words began tumbling from her lips, as they always did when her blood pounded in her ears. "But I have no reason to alert the authorities. Just the opposite. I was directed to the Seer by an old Celt slav--friend," she amended hastily. "He told me the Wise One's heart is kind and true. I'm in sore need of his magic." She inhaled. "Please. Will you take me to him?"

The Celt was silent for several long heartbeats. Finally, he turned, eyeing her, clearly deciding whether she was worth the trouble of an honest answer. She resisted the urge to squirm under his scrutiny.

At last he spoke. "And who is this friend..." He said the word harshly, as if spitting out the uglier syllable she'd almost uttered. "...who told ye tales of a Druid?"

Her voice trailed off in the face of his scowl. She wondered, not for the first time, if she'd lost her wits completely to embark on this wild quest, even with Aiden's encouragement. A knot of fear tightened in her stomach. But then she thought of Father huddled in his sickbed.

She stiffened her spine. "My friend lived in these hills before he came to dwell in the city."

"Before Sempronius Gracchus and the Second Legion enslaved the last of the free Celts, ye mean."

Clara fought to control her expression as the Celt spat out her father's name. "Yes," she said.

"Where are your companions?" Venom laced his tone. "A wealthy woman such as ye would travel with an escort. Were there soldiers? Did ye lose them in the storm?"

The Celt's piercing blue gaze bored into her. "If that be true, then ye are surely mad."

Her fingers twisted the edge of the fur blanket. "No doubt you're right. But I had no choice. Please. If you know the Wise One, take me to him."

A veil dropped over his eyes, blanking their expression. She went still. "You know where he is."

He hesitated, and she thought perhaps he would deny it. But a moment later, he nodded once. "I ken the one ye speak of. But I wouldna name him wise. Nor kind."

His gaze sought the fire, where it lingered moodily. Finally, he sighed. "Ye've found him already, lass."

Several seconds passed before she grasped his meaning. When it did, her breath left her. No. It wasn't possible. She sought an old man. An elder.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. "Ye look a bit green about the gills, lass. Am I nay what ye expected?"

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