Jeanette Cooper's Novels
Drama, Romance, Passion, & Thrilling Suspense
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Set in Anglo Saxon England and woven with breathtaking suspense, abduction, rape,
and murder set the prelude for Conquered Heart when Lord Raybourne of Valdenwald
takes a young peasant girl as his mistress, who bears him a child called Edreia.
Sixteen years later, the fiery and outspoken illegitimate daughter of Lord Raybourne of
Valdenwald disguises herself as a boy to avoid the fate planned for her by Mikkel, leader of
the Norman army, until he discovers her deceit. Eventually forced to become his mistress,
Edreia struggles between hate and love as her wanton heart betrays her in a tempest of passion
and lust with her captor.
After Cadena, Mikkel’s betrothed, shows up unexpectedly at Valdenwald, Edreia is cast
into a contest of wills to retain her place in Mikkel’s bed and life. A battle of wits ensues
between Mikkel’s mistress and his betrothed; finally culminating in a diabolical plot between
three of Edreia’s enemies to murder her. As she struggles to stay alive, the prospect of an insecure
future allows slim hope for what she has come to desire more than anything else: Mikkel.
REVIEWS
Off Course: A Seaworthy Romance and The Ruby Con
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Louise Willis wrote:
In her historical novel, Conquered Heart, Jeanette Cooper has captured the period (1066) through the portrayal of the dominant character, Lord Raybourne, who sets certain events in motion when he abducts beautiful Leoma, a young peasant woman who lives on his fief. Years later, the Norman Conquest imposes similar consequences on Raybourne and Leoma’s daughter, Edreia, when the Norman leader, Mikkel, takes her as his mistress. The book is definitely a page-turner with continual action and suspense to keep a reader on the edge of his seat. I recommend this novel to any reader who likes historical romance. Conquered Heart is a book you won’t forget easily.
Mildred Durden Dunn wrote:
Conquered Heart grabs the attention of the reader immediately, when Lord Raybourne of Valdenwald shatters the lives of a poor peasant family by abducting their child. The story is a satisfying, historically vivid, and stirring account of young Edreia, Raybourne’s offspring, whose life is lived against catastrophic odds during Anglo Saxon England in the year 1066 and afterwards during the Norman Conquest.The lovely Edreia will warm your heart in her plight to deal with the changing times following the Norman siege on Valdenwald.
Belva Doyle wrote:
Conquered Heart is an action-packed novel, which gains your attention right from the start when the Lord of Valdenwald sees the beautiful young peasant woman, Leoma, and abducts her. They have a child called Edreia, who grows to womanhood and deals with many challenges, as she adjusts to the demands made on her by the Norman conqueror, Mikkel. This story comes to life in the imagination of the reader; thus, making Jeanette Cooper’s novel a must read.
The past never goes away,
But merely hibernates
Like the seasons
To return again in different raiment
Creating hopes and dreams, and
Shaping today from the seeds of yesterday.
England 1066
Nelda’s life had been a struggle frequently plagued with strife. She managed to survive, however, despite the horror, violence, and suffering tyrannized against her family. Never having ventured beyond the borders of the fiefdom, she and her husband, Frewin, had raised their daughter, Leoma, to near adulthood, hoping some good peasant farmer would take her for his wife. It was not to happen though, since fate decreed other plans for Leoma
With her thoughts roaming back in time to the past, sixty-five-year-old Nelda, feeling warm and comfortable before the crackling fire on the grate, closed her eyes to relive the memories that seemed to come more often now. The visions inside her head of that terrible event in 1048 that destroyed her family were as vivid now, as the scene of the actual occurrence on that horrible day...
* * * *
Leoma celebrated her fifteenth year just weeks previously, and was like a ray of sunshine experiencing and enjoying the beauty of nature all around her. She was happy, her pretty even white teeth sparkling behind her enchanting smile. For her, every day presented some wonderful new discovery for her to explore. Such were her intentions on the day disaster struck her young life.
That unforgettable day began as a crisp, clear morning, slightly chilly until the sun climbed overhead and beamed down its heat on the freshly plowed fields following a long cold winter. The peasants worked in the fields, each tilling his allocated tract of land, getting the soil ready for the planting of oats, barley and peas, which half went to paying rents. It left just enough for the peasants to survive on until the winter crop of wheat or rye could be harvested. The cycle was as inevitable as the seasons, as was Lord Raybourne’s frequent trips throughout the fief to inspect the progress of the planting or harvesting.
From the saddle of his great stallion, Lord Raybourne of Valdenwald spied Leoma in the field serving cool water to her father. Pausing to take a longer look at that golden red mane and at the swelling young breasts that pushed against the fabric of her simple woolen tunic, he experienced an overwhelming pang of sexual longing for that young maid.
When Lord Raybourne approached, Leoma sent him a sweet smile waxed with the tenderness of youth. She gave her father another drink of the refreshing water, and then turned to offer Lord Raybourne a drink. He gladly took the flask she raised to his outstretched hand and drank deeply before giving it back to her.
“Tis the best drink of water I’ve had,” he said jovially, a slow smile playing around the corners of his mouth as his eyes traveled Leoma’s person from head to toe.
Leoma smiled, bid farewell to her father and Lord Raybourne and skipped away, ready to visit her little animal friends in the forest and practice her whistling imitations of the birds.
Frewin and Raybourne watched Leoma skipping toward the edge of the forest. Then the black stallion snorted as Lord Raybourne turned its dark head toward the gurgling brook at the edge of the forest where Leoma’s bright curls shone in the sunlight.
Alarm shot through Frewin in a horrifying instant about the same time he saw Lord Raybourne lean to the far right, reaching out his long arm to swoop Leoma up on the saddle in front of him. Frewin saw Leoma’s face briefly looking toward him. Even from that distance, he saw her smile wan sickly in a face frozen with fear while appearing to cry out for help just before the great stallion galloped away.
Frewin ran to his cottage and anxiously blurted to his wife Nelda what had happened. The two of them were devastated, knowing they could do nothing to help Leoma.
The next morning the door burst open, and there stood Leoma, a frightened child, her eyes red from crying, tears streaking down her cheeks, bruises on her arms, her hair tousled with tangles, her clothing wrinkled, soiled, and ripped. “I ran away from him,” she whispered in a raspy sounding voice, moist with tears.
The pounding of a horse’s hooves shattered the reunion, causing Leoma’s parents to rush to the door to see who was tearing up the soil to get to their door.
Upon seeing the great black stallion approaching, Frewin grabbed up his axe and went out the door to meet his enemy. “Damn you eternally,” he shouted as Raybourne’s horse stopped next to where Frewin stood.
Frewin raised his axe high over his head and slashed downward toward Raybourne’s thigh. The horse whinnied, backed away, and then reared on its hind legs out of the path of the axe.
Seeing what Frewin intended, Lord Raybourne slid his sword from its scabbard. Without a word, he slashed down his opponent with one mighty swing of the sword, slicing open Frewin’s shoulder to the bone. Seeing Frewin still lived, he swung his sword once again, this time beheading the man. The severed head sat in place a couple of seconds, the eyes stretched large in shock. Then it tilted and rolled off Frewin’s shoulder as he crumpled to the ground.
“Bury ye husband, and then send Leoma back to me,” Raybourne commanded Nelda before he turned his horse’s head toward the castle.
Leoma became Raybourne’s mistress. When she attempted to kill herself, Raybourne commissioned Nelda to come live with Leoma in a cottage on the castle grounds. He charged Nelda with the job of keeping the red-haired maid safe so she might produce for him a son, which his wife, Lady Chelsea, could not give him.
Nine months later, Leoma died giving birth to Edreia. Soon after, Raybourne left the castle with a group of his soldiers, returning after many weeks with a young boy who looked terribly lost and frightened. The little boy, known only as Pitney, grew into a young lad who would enjoy all the privileges a paternal son might. The boy became Raybourne’s pride and joy, but oddly, his daughter Edreia was the one who enthralled him. He frequently visited the cottage to enjoy her baby antics and happy smiles, aware of her growing resemblance to Leoma.
With authority, he dictated the remaining course of Nelda’s life with the command, “Edreia must be cared for. You will protect her with your life, old woman.”
Excerpt
A hand grabbed Edreia’s arm, spun her around, and then another hand grabbed her other arm, imprisoning her. She jerked, squirmed, dropped her basket, and fought with all her strength to loosen those restraining hands. Fingers bit into her arms while fear pummeled her senses, causing her heart to pound so loud she could hear its racing rhythm. She recalled grandmother’s story about what the Norman dogs did to innocent maids.
“Let me go,” she cried. Her strength melted like butter and her knees buckled, sending her to the floor.
The hands released her long enough to produce a flint spark, which touched off the light of a candle, nearly blinding Edreia.
She struggled to her feet just before a strong hand grabbed her arm again.
“I have slept here many nights waiting for you, maid. After I learned of your gift with the herbals, I knew you would return for them.”
He ripped the hat off her head, allowing the mass of riotous undulating golden colors to cascade down about her shoulders.
Tremors of fear ran through Edreia at what he likely planned to do to her. His threatening voice left her shaking.
“Let me go, Norman Beast. Release me and leave me be,” she cried out, trying to pull from his grasp.
“On the contrary, my simple lad, I would get to know if you are boy or girl,” he jibed, running his eyes over the garb she wore.
“You will have to kill me first,” she spat, her lips trembling with fear and apprehension. She backed toward the door and escape, but for every inch she gained, he distanced her by two until his giant form hovered before her like an impregnable wall. The door was open behind her, but not a single plan could she make that would enable her to put enough distance between them. He loomed like some evil prodigy from hell, ready to envelop her very existence.
“Maid, you can run and you can hide, but you can’t escape me. You are a product of war and I claim you as my prize. You’ve disguised yourself well with boy’s clothing, but now you will cease your disguise and admit you are my servant.”
Anger welled up inside Edreia. This man had destroyed her father and usurped Pitney’s inheritance. He had conquered the castle and the fiefdom, but he would not conquer her. She would resist him until the last breath in her body.
Straightening her shoulders up to her full height, she stood with daring, gazing into his gray eyes. “You destroyed the only kin left to me. Would you for a minute believe I could ever pay service to you,? I deplore you, and ask only to be left in peace from your foul pursuits.”
“You read me falsely, maid. I have no desire to abuse you. I desire your company. Whatever rewards you grant me thereafter will be by your own regard.”
“I will grant you nothing, Norman cur.”
“Maid, you insult me with you vehemence. While I am a warrior fighting for the crown I serve, I am neither dog nor other animal. I am a man with feelings much the same as you. You are a fetching maid whose company I desire, and in return, I offer you protection from my men. Would you decline such a worthy exchange?”
“You are a murderer, milord Mikkel, and I detest you. I would rather die than become your spoils. I implore you to search among the servants for those maids more willing to service your needs.”
He inhaled a deep breath of air and exhaled. “Should I desire the used goods of others, my lady, I might readily take your advice. You, on the other hand, shine with virtue and that, my lass, is the prize that intrigues me. You shall warm my bed, maid, but I prefer you come willingly.”
“Your lust seeks more than you deserve, milord. I shall not warm your bed, nor fulfill your desires.”
In frustration, he flung away her arm and turned away in anger. Edreia had waited for just such an opportunity.
Grabbing her basket, she fled out the door, and with the grace of a doe, sprinted through the darkness toward the opening in the great wall and escape.
She could hear him behind her, but knowledge of the path gave her the advantage. He didn’t take time to shoe his feet, and the rocks, cinders, and debris worked havoc with his tender soles. Edreia gained distance on him. Curses echoed behind her, as he fought the elements strewn naturally in his path, leaving his feet sorely bruised.