Stacey Joy Netzel's Blog, page 13
April 21, 2012
Sunday Share: Dedication, by Janet Mullany
Today I'm happy to welcome Janet Mullany with her Regency historical,
DEDICATION
. She's given us a wonderfully sensual except and is also giving away an ebook copy today!
DEDICATION, by Janet Mullany
Genre: Regency historical
Heat level: sensual
Adam and Fabienne came of age and fell wildly in love during a time of revolution but times have changed. Now he’s a respectable country gentleman and she’s a powerful patroness of the arts and they have little in common … or do they? She’s falling in love as she exchanges letters with a reclusive female gothic novelist, and Adam can’t help responding, but surely she knows who he really is, a man writing women’s books under a woman’s name? As their lives become entangled again after two decades apart, dark secrets and betrayals from the past are revealed, threatening them and others they love.
EXCERPT (The heroine, Fabienne Craigmont, has traveled to the country to find an authoress with whom she has exchanged passionate, intimate letters. The writer isn’t home, but she meets instead her former lover Adam, who reluctantly invites her to stay at his house. She goes in search of a book to read ...)
Inside the library, she paused and looked around carefully. A candle burned on a desk heaped with papers, and she saw a coat and waistcoat tossed onto a nearby chair. Their owner could not be far away. She hesitated, looking into the darkness of the far end of the room. Nothing stirred. Well, there were plenty of books at this end, and with any luck, she could find something. She gathered her shawl more closely around herself and moved forward.
As she lifted her candle to view the nearest books, Adam’s voice came from the shadows, a sinister growl.
“What are you doing here, Mrs. Craigmont?”
She stifled a shriek and dropped her candle. It fell to the floor and rolled away, the flame extinguished. “What are you doing here?”
“I beg your pardon. This is my house, my library, madam, and I ask you again, what you are doing here.” He moved toward her.
“I am looking for a book. I wish to read something.” Her words sounded inadequate and foolish.
“I see.” He took his spectacles off and tossed them onto his desk. Now he was between her and the desk, tall and forbidding in shirt and breeches.
“Well, why do you lurk in the shadows to frighten me so?”
He held a book up. “I was fetching this when I heard you make your not particularly discreet entrance, Mrs. Craigmont. I snuffed my candle to see what you were about.”
“Oh, do not be ridiculous. What else would I do in a library but look for a book?”
“That is what I wondered too.” He paused in front of her, a little too close.
“What do you mean—” Oh, God. She was here, alone, wearing only a nightgown and shawl, her hair loosened. Did he think she had come here to seduce him? She backed away from him. “I think I had better leave. I see this is not a convenient time for you.”
“Oh, please, Mrs. Craigmont. It is not at all inconvenient. On the contrary, I think we both know what you seek.” His smile was taunting and predatory.
Fabienne stared back at him, determined not to show any fear. She was no longer a terrified girl who would beg for mercy, a victim of casual lust, Adam’s or any other man’s. She reassured herself, trying to think rationally. Once she thought she’d known this man; she’d even fancied herself in love with him.
His easy, sarcastic smile and arrogant stance angered her. “Good night, Mr. Ashworth.” She stepped back, and her heel touched the base of a bookshelf, her shoulders brushing against the uneven ridges of books. He followed her that one step back, adept as a dancer or fencer, and placed one hand on the shelf at her shoulder, half entrapping her, daring her to move.
“One moment, Mrs. Craigmont.” He trailed his fingers along her jawbone and splayed his fingers into her loosened hair, drawing her face to his.
“Stop—”
The word had hardly left her lips before his mouth blocked further speech in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle, despite his threatening aspect. There was strength there, certainly in the force of his embrace and the press of his hips, but it was as though he knew that sweetness would disarm her more than any show of force. His lips withdrew, then brushed hers, posing a hesitant question, a promise of passion withheld—for the moment.
Damn him.
Her body arched toward his, returning that implicit message as her mouth opened to his, and years and pain and her common sense faded away.
“Damn you!” She wrenched away from him.
He raised his eyebrows and fingered a lock of hair that fell on her neck, his touch as potent as it had been at Tillotson’s house, as it had always been. “Well?”
“Damn you, Adam Ashworth.” Rage made her breath fast and shallow. She hoped it was only rage. “Damn you. So you still know how to kiss. And you’re still a bastard.”
He stepped back and bowed. “Your servant, madam.”
She swung her hand back and slapped his face as hard as she could. “Good night, Mr. Ashworth.”
“Good night, Mrs. Craigmont.” He crossed to the library door and opened it, a mocking smile on his face.
Head high, she walked out of the library, willing herself not to hurry. Once he could no longer see her, she ran through the dark stone passage, blundered into something that stood in the way, and reached the staircase. Safe in her room, she flung herself into bed and waited for her pulse to return to normal, the bedclothes pulled over her head. The thunder of her heartbeat, she assured herself, was only attributable to her flight upstairs.
It was nothing to do with Adam, damn him.
Nothing at all.
Damn him, she thought, damn him, God rot him, and lay awake for what seemed like hours before falling into a restless sleep.
~*~
Thank you, Janet for that great excerpt ~ I wish you the best of luck with your book!
Readers, don't forget to leave a comment for your chance to win a copy.
Watch the book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2758x2zKV1I
You can find DEDICATION at Amazon or Loose-id
And you can find Janet at:
www.janetmullany.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Janet-Mullany-Author/144530775580812
Twitter @Janet_Mullany
BIO
Janet Mullany, granddaughter of an Edwardian housemaid, was born in England but now lives near Washington, DC. Her debut book was Dedication, the only Signet Regency to have two bondage scenes (and which was reissued with even more sex in April 2012 from Loose-Id). Her next book, The Rules of Gentility (HarperCollins 2007) was acquired by Little Black Dress (UK) for whom she wrote three more Regency chicklits, A Most Lamentable Comedy, Improper Relations, and Mr. Bishop and the Actress. Her career as a writer who does terrible things to Jane Austen began in 2010 with the publication of Jane and the Damned(HarperCollins), and Jane Austen: Blood Persuasion (2011) about Jane as a vampire, and a modern retelling of Emma, Little to Hex Her, in the anthology Bespelling Jane Austen headlined by Mary Balogh. She also writes contemporary erotic fiction for Harlequin, Tell Me More (2011) and Hidden Paradise (September, 2012).
Glad you stopped by to visit and happy reading everyone!
Stacey Joy Netzel
"Hi everyone and thanks to Stacey for inviting me to visit today. DEDICATION is a book I'm very fond of--it was my first book and I was fortunate enough to get back the rights, rewrite, and have it published with this gorgeous cover--very appropriate for a book about second chances!"
DEDICATION, by Janet MullanyGenre: Regency historical
Heat level: sensual
Adam and Fabienne came of age and fell wildly in love during a time of revolution but times have changed. Now he’s a respectable country gentleman and she’s a powerful patroness of the arts and they have little in common … or do they? She’s falling in love as she exchanges letters with a reclusive female gothic novelist, and Adam can’t help responding, but surely she knows who he really is, a man writing women’s books under a woman’s name? As their lives become entangled again after two decades apart, dark secrets and betrayals from the past are revealed, threatening them and others they love.
EXCERPT (The heroine, Fabienne Craigmont, has traveled to the country to find an authoress with whom she has exchanged passionate, intimate letters. The writer isn’t home, but she meets instead her former lover Adam, who reluctantly invites her to stay at his house. She goes in search of a book to read ...)
Inside the library, she paused and looked around carefully. A candle burned on a desk heaped with papers, and she saw a coat and waistcoat tossed onto a nearby chair. Their owner could not be far away. She hesitated, looking into the darkness of the far end of the room. Nothing stirred. Well, there were plenty of books at this end, and with any luck, she could find something. She gathered her shawl more closely around herself and moved forward.
As she lifted her candle to view the nearest books, Adam’s voice came from the shadows, a sinister growl.
“What are you doing here, Mrs. Craigmont?”
She stifled a shriek and dropped her candle. It fell to the floor and rolled away, the flame extinguished. “What are you doing here?”
“I beg your pardon. This is my house, my library, madam, and I ask you again, what you are doing here.” He moved toward her.
“I am looking for a book. I wish to read something.” Her words sounded inadequate and foolish.
“I see.” He took his spectacles off and tossed them onto his desk. Now he was between her and the desk, tall and forbidding in shirt and breeches.
“Well, why do you lurk in the shadows to frighten me so?”
He held a book up. “I was fetching this when I heard you make your not particularly discreet entrance, Mrs. Craigmont. I snuffed my candle to see what you were about.”
“Oh, do not be ridiculous. What else would I do in a library but look for a book?”
“That is what I wondered too.” He paused in front of her, a little too close.
“What do you mean—” Oh, God. She was here, alone, wearing only a nightgown and shawl, her hair loosened. Did he think she had come here to seduce him? She backed away from him. “I think I had better leave. I see this is not a convenient time for you.”
“Oh, please, Mrs. Craigmont. It is not at all inconvenient. On the contrary, I think we both know what you seek.” His smile was taunting and predatory.
Fabienne stared back at him, determined not to show any fear. She was no longer a terrified girl who would beg for mercy, a victim of casual lust, Adam’s or any other man’s. She reassured herself, trying to think rationally. Once she thought she’d known this man; she’d even fancied herself in love with him.
His easy, sarcastic smile and arrogant stance angered her. “Good night, Mr. Ashworth.” She stepped back, and her heel touched the base of a bookshelf, her shoulders brushing against the uneven ridges of books. He followed her that one step back, adept as a dancer or fencer, and placed one hand on the shelf at her shoulder, half entrapping her, daring her to move.
“One moment, Mrs. Craigmont.” He trailed his fingers along her jawbone and splayed his fingers into her loosened hair, drawing her face to his.
“Stop—”
The word had hardly left her lips before his mouth blocked further speech in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle, despite his threatening aspect. There was strength there, certainly in the force of his embrace and the press of his hips, but it was as though he knew that sweetness would disarm her more than any show of force. His lips withdrew, then brushed hers, posing a hesitant question, a promise of passion withheld—for the moment.
Damn him.
Her body arched toward his, returning that implicit message as her mouth opened to his, and years and pain and her common sense faded away.
“Damn you!” She wrenched away from him.
He raised his eyebrows and fingered a lock of hair that fell on her neck, his touch as potent as it had been at Tillotson’s house, as it had always been. “Well?”
“Damn you, Adam Ashworth.” Rage made her breath fast and shallow. She hoped it was only rage. “Damn you. So you still know how to kiss. And you’re still a bastard.”
He stepped back and bowed. “Your servant, madam.”
She swung her hand back and slapped his face as hard as she could. “Good night, Mr. Ashworth.”
“Good night, Mrs. Craigmont.” He crossed to the library door and opened it, a mocking smile on his face.
Head high, she walked out of the library, willing herself not to hurry. Once he could no longer see her, she ran through the dark stone passage, blundered into something that stood in the way, and reached the staircase. Safe in her room, she flung herself into bed and waited for her pulse to return to normal, the bedclothes pulled over her head. The thunder of her heartbeat, she assured herself, was only attributable to her flight upstairs.
It was nothing to do with Adam, damn him.
Nothing at all.
Damn him, she thought, damn him, God rot him, and lay awake for what seemed like hours before falling into a restless sleep.
~*~
Thank you, Janet for that great excerpt ~ I wish you the best of luck with your book!
Readers, don't forget to leave a comment for your chance to win a copy.
Watch the book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2758x2zKV1I
You can find DEDICATION at Amazon or Loose-id
And you can find Janet at:
www.janetmullany.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Janet-Mullany-Author/144530775580812
Twitter @Janet_Mullany
BIO
Janet Mullany, granddaughter of an Edwardian housemaid, was born in England but now lives near Washington, DC. Her debut book was Dedication, the only Signet Regency to have two bondage scenes (and which was reissued with even more sex in April 2012 from Loose-Id). Her next book, The Rules of Gentility (HarperCollins 2007) was acquired by Little Black Dress (UK) for whom she wrote three more Regency chicklits, A Most Lamentable Comedy, Improper Relations, and Mr. Bishop and the Actress. Her career as a writer who does terrible things to Jane Austen began in 2010 with the publication of Jane and the Damned(HarperCollins), and Jane Austen: Blood Persuasion (2011) about Jane as a vampire, and a modern retelling of Emma, Little to Hex Her, in the anthology Bespelling Jane Austen headlined by Mary Balogh. She also writes contemporary erotic fiction for Harlequin, Tell Me More (2011) and Hidden Paradise (September, 2012).
Glad you stopped by to visit and happy reading everyone!
Stacey Joy Netzel
April 19, 2012
Winner for my stop of Authors In Bloom Blog Hop
And the winner is...
SHADOW
I will be in contact via email for you to take your pick of one of these two books:
Thanks to all who stopped by ~ have a wonderful Spring!
Stacey Joy Netzel
April 8, 2012
Authors In Bloom Giveaway Hop
Welcome to my stop on the Authors in Bloom Blog Hop, hosted by Dianne Venetta. Read the blog, enter to win my giveaway, and hop along to the next stop for more prizes!
April 9th –April 18th
View full details HERE
My phrase for the GRAND Prize entry is:
Line 99: "then HEA is ours."
Happy Spring! For some of us (actually, in the USA--most of us) it arrived about two months early, but as long as our cherry blossoms and apple trees and spring flowers don't get hit by a rogue late frost, we won't complain. (In WI at least.)
Because I'm still learning in the garden, and depend on others to give me gardening tips, I'm going to share a recipe that's super easy to make after a long day outside digging in your flower beds and planting veggies.
And bear with me here...it's not rocket science--I did say super easy, remember? This may be something some of you make all the time, but when I mentioned these at work the other day, 2 of my 3 co-workers had never thought to make them, so I'm sharing!
My giveaway for the blog hop is winners choice* of ebook or print copy of either Lost In Italy, or Stacey Joy Netzel Novella Collection. (*print copies only available inside the US/Canada. If winner is outside the US or Canada, ebook will be emailed or gifted via Amazon or Barnes and Noble.)
To enter my giveaway, you must leave a comment about the above recipe. Sound good? Got some great tasting variations of your own? Just say something. *grin* You can also earn extra entries--check them out below.And don't forget there is a whole bouquet of other authors in the blog hop so you can gather all kinds of recipes, gardening tips, and enter to win TONS of prizes!
GOOD LUCK!<a href="http://rafl.es/enable-js">You need javascript enabled to see this giveaway</a&<a href="http://rafl.es/enable-js">You need javascript enabled to see this giveaway</a>.
April 9th –April 18th
View full details HERE
My phrase for the GRAND Prize entry is:
Line 99: "then HEA is ours."
Happy Spring! For some of us (actually, in the USA--most of us) it arrived about two months early, but as long as our cherry blossoms and apple trees and spring flowers don't get hit by a rogue late frost, we won't complain. (In WI at least.)Because I'm still learning in the garden, and depend on others to give me gardening tips, I'm going to share a recipe that's super easy to make after a long day outside digging in your flower beds and planting veggies.
And bear with me here...it's not rocket science--I did say super easy, remember? This may be something some of you make all the time, but when I mentioned these at work the other day, 2 of my 3 co-workers had never thought to make them, so I'm sharing!
Chicken Quesidillas 1 pkg of your favorite tortillas1 lb of sliced chicken deli meat2-3 medium tomatoes, dicedshredded cheese (I love using Kraft three cheese crumbles blend)sour creamguacamole
~~~Lightly spray a non-stick pan with cooking oil. Place your tortilla in the pan over medium heat, top with an even sprinkling of cheese, add desired amount of chicken slices to one half of the tortilla. Cook until cheese is melted, being careful to check the underside of the tortilla to make sure it doesn't get darker than a nice golden brown. Fold tortilla in half and remove from heat. Top with sour cream, guacamole, and diced tomatoes. **want to add a little crunch and flavor? Sprinkle with minced dried onions. Yum!
Taco Quesidillas are really good, too. Substitute the chicken deli meat for taco meat; garnish with lettuce, tomatoes, sour cream, guacamole, black olives and enjoy!
My giveaway for the blog hop is winners choice* of ebook or print copy of either Lost In Italy, or Stacey Joy Netzel Novella Collection. (*print copies only available inside the US/Canada. If winner is outside the US or Canada, ebook will be emailed or gifted via Amazon or Barnes and Noble.)
To enter my giveaway, you must leave a comment about the above recipe. Sound good? Got some great tasting variations of your own? Just say something. *grin* You can also earn extra entries--check them out below.And don't forget there is a whole bouquet of other authors in the blog hop so you can gather all kinds of recipes, gardening tips, and enter to win TONS of prizes!
GOOD LUCK!<a href="http://rafl.es/enable-js">You need javascript enabled to see this giveaway</a&<a href="http://rafl.es/enable-js">You need javascript enabled to see this giveaway</a>.
April 7, 2012
Lost In Italy 2012 Write Touch Finalist!!
Woo hoo!! I got the call that LOST IN ITALY is a 2012 Wisconsin Romance Writers (WisRWA) Write Touch Readers' Award finalist in the Romantic Suspense category!
Here's the finalist posting:
I'm thrilled and honored to be listed in the finals with such wonderful authors. Congratulations and best of luck to everyone, especially my fellow WisRWA members, Laura Iding, Amy Knupp, Cat Shield, Christie Craig, Mary Hughes, Laura Scott and C.C. Hunter!
Here's the finalist posting:
The Wisconsin RomanceWriters (WisRWA) is pleased to announce the finalists for the 2012 Write Touch Readers' Award Contest. Congratulations to all! The finalists are listed in alphabetical order, and **indicates a memberof WisRWA:
Short Series Contemporary
Cowboy Under Siege by Gail Barrett
Cedar Bluff's Most Eligible Bachelor by Laura Iding**
A Win-Win Proposition by Cat Shield**
Rafe's Redemption by Annie West
Long Series Contemporary
A Deliberate Father by Kate Kelly
Because of the List by Amy Knupp**
Burning Ambition by Amy Knupp**
The Cost of Silence by Kathleen O'Brien
Contemporary Single Title
Don't Mess With Texas by Christie Craig**
His, Unexpectedly by Susan Fox
Believe in Me by Laura Moore
Romantic Suspense
Deadly Dreams by Kylie Brant
Lost in Italy by Stacey Joy Netzel**
In Close by Brenda Novak
Historical
Midnight's Wild Passion by Anna Campbell
The Scandal of Lady Eleanor by Regina Jeffers
Redeeming the Rogue by Donna MacMeans
Paranormal/Fantasy/Futuristic
The Vampire Dimitri by Colleen Gleason
Taste Me by Tamara Hogan
Biting Me Softly by Mary Hughes**
Chosen by Denise Grover Swank
Mainstream w/Romantic Elements
Love on the Line by Deeanne Gist
One For the Road by Lynne Marshall
Beautiful Disaster by Laura Spinella
Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes by Denise Grover Swank
Inspirational/Traditional
Tuesday's Child by Janice Hildreth
Secrets of the Heart, Book One, The Ravensmoore Chronicles by Jillian Kent
Lawman-in-Charge by Laura Scott**
Proof of Life by Laura Scott**
Young Adult
Love Story by Jennifer Echols
Born at Midnight by C.C. Hunter**
Awake at Dawn by C.C. Hunter**
The Demon Trapper's Daughter by Jana Oliver
Erotica/Romantica
Bastian, The Lords of Satyr by Elizabeth Amber
Heat Waves by Susan Lyons
Circle of Desire by Carla Swafford
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Winners will be announced at the WisRWA "Romancing the Northwoods" Conference June 1-3.
I'm thrilled and honored to be listed in the finals with such wonderful authors. Congratulations and best of luck to everyone, especially my fellow WisRWA members, Laura Iding, Amy Knupp, Cat Shield, Christie Craig, Mary Hughes, Laura Scott and C.C. Hunter!
March 28, 2012
Lucky 7 - join the fun - share the fun!
I've been tagged for Lucky 7 by
Cate Dean
, author of the wonderful book
When Walls Can Talk
.
The rules:
Go to page 77 of your current MS/WIPGo to Line 7Copy down the next seven lines/sentences and post them on your blogTag 7 authors and let them knowSo, here's my 7 from my tentatively titled, MORE THAN A KISS , currently with my editor.
And the authors I'm tagging are:
1. Donna Marie Rogers, Golden Opportunity, contemporary western romance
2. Casey Clifford, An Island No More, romantic suspense
3. Jill James, Second Chances romance series
4. Robin Covington, A Night of Southern Comfort, romance, coming soon
5. Vanessa Kelly, My Favorite Countess, historical romance
6. Alan Nayes, Smilodon, thriller
7. Tara West, Whispers YA Series
Have a great day everyone!
Stacey Joy Netzel
The rules:
Go to page 77 of your current MS/WIPGo to Line 7Copy down the next seven lines/sentences and post them on your blogTag 7 authors and let them knowSo, here's my 7 from my tentatively titled, MORE THAN A KISS , currently with my editor.
Moments later, the towel was too wet to dry anymore, her pants were still soaked through, and her teeth had started to chatter.Watch for Sadie and Zach's book June 2012!!
Zach straightened to his full, imposing height—a good nine inches taller with her in bare feet. "You need to get out of those wet clothes."
His firm statement flipped Sadie's stomach. The words were said innocently enough, and they made sense, but delivered in his low voice, they conjured up all sorts of enticing possibilities.
Then she reminded herself that she'd be pounding the pavement for a new job on Monday morning, all thanks to him. And she'd never slept with anyone without having a foundation of a relationship first, no matter how darn attractive they were.
And the authors I'm tagging are:
1. Donna Marie Rogers, Golden Opportunity, contemporary western romance
2. Casey Clifford, An Island No More, romantic suspense
3. Jill James, Second Chances romance series
4. Robin Covington, A Night of Southern Comfort, romance, coming soon
5. Vanessa Kelly, My Favorite Countess, historical romance
6. Alan Nayes, Smilodon, thriller
7. Tara West, Whispers YA Series
Have a great day everyone!
Stacey Joy Netzel
March 17, 2012
Sunday Share: The Prince of Val-Feyridge, by Helen C. Johannes
I'm happy to welcome award-winning author Helen C. Johannes with her book,
The Prince of Val-Feyridge
. I was smart enough to take this one with me on my trip to Italy last October and Helen's wonderful imagery was brought fully to life as I toured mountains and castles. It was pretty cool.
Enjoy the excerpt she's sharing today and any comments could net you winner's choice of an ebook or print copy of your own!
The Prince of Val-FeyRidge, by Helen C. Johannes2011 EPIC Winnerin Fantasy Romance
Heat level: Spicy
Published by The Wild Rose Press
The Wild RosePress , Amazon , Barnes and Noble
A warrior with a destiny, a woman with a gift. Can loving theenemy restore a broken kingdom? Or will forbidden love destroy it—andthem—first?
Prince Arn has adestiny—an ancient throne—but he's not waiting for fate to deliver when he canact now, before his enemies organize against him. The healer Aerid longs forher barely remembered homeland. Marked out by her gift and her foreign looks,she insists she is no witch. The swordsman Naed hopes to honorably defend hisuncle's holding, but he harbors a secret fascination for the exotic healer.Prince Arn's campaign against Aerid's homeland throws them into a triangle offorbidden love, betrayal, and heartbreak. Only when they realize love isblood-kin to friendship, and neither is possible without risk, can they forge anew alliance and restore a kingdom.
Excerpt from CHAPTER TEN
Shiversracked Aerid, coming so hard and fast she had bitten her lip bloody, but sherefused to make a sound while the Prince rode with her clamped to his body. Herlife depended on saying nothing until this man—the Demon Himself for all thecruel efficiency with which he had dispatched their attackers—gave her leave tospeak.Treeswhipped by; a bit of moonlight beamed down on a narrow track, and always thehorse's mane lashed her face. She had given up breathing, gulping air wheneverthe horse's stride loosened the Prince's grip a fraction.Thehorse slowed, and the Prince straightened in the saddle, allowing a sliver ofnight air to slide between their bodies. She shuddered at the shock of it,realizing the skin under her tunic was damp with the sweat soaking through his.She had ceased to feel his heartbeat as separate from hers. Both thundered inher ears, and the sweet scent of fresh blood—on his hands, his clothes, hisweapons—mingled with horse lather, man-sweat, and her own fear.Heguided the stallion off the track and into a stream. Krenin followed, as did ariderless horse that had raced with them out of the village. Aerid guessed itwas one of those that had charged her in the square. Instead of crossing, thePrince headed the stallion downstream, letting it pick its way throughfetlock-deep water. Krenin made no comment. Aerid stole a glance in hisdirection, but the Prince's Second seemed still in control of his horsealthough he slumped over the animal's neck. Around them, water rushed andhissed over stones, the sound echoing the blood-rush in her veins.ThePrince's arm tightened, drawing her hard against the planes of his chest. Aeridsucked in breath, digging her fingers once more into his tunic sleeve. Everymovement reminded her, perched sideways as she was on the saddle pommel, allthat kept her out of the water and away from trampling hooves was the strengthof his arm—and that arm was trembling. Not with the fear still rattling throughher, for he was Tolemak and a warrior. Nor with weakness, though the wound shehad stitched a scant seven-night before could yet give him cause. No, in thatmoment when he had recognized her—in that awful moment after theshock—she had seen all too clearly the fury vibrating through him now. And theknowledge that it had not abated even a whit made her flinch when he bent andhis voice lashed at her ear."Tellme, witch, and tell me true—does Krenin know who you are?"Thequestion itself startled Aerid, not its harshness, for she had expected that.Twisting her head, she caught a glimpse of eyes like coals in a face dark andset."Imean," he said, each word measured and knifesharp, "either who you are or whoyou pretend to be."Sheflushed, knowing full well what he meant. "I—I think not, m'lord. 'Twas darkand—""Thenyou'll do nothing to enlighten him. Hear?"Sheheard him clearly despite the water-song and hoof splashes she was sureprevented their voices from carrying to Krenin. She understood, too, whatunderlay his warning. He wanted no one to know that he, the exalted andinvincible Prince of Val-Feyridge, had been tricked—trapped—into sparingthe life of an Adanak—and a woman!—only to cover the fact he and all hisarmy had been duped into believing—for weeks!—that she was a boy, and aD'nalian. Oh, he had chosen well the moment for his question, Aerid thought, arush of indignation beating back her shivers."Aye,m'lord, 'tis safe with me, your secret."Hisarm clenched so, she feared he would crush her. "I should have let them killyou!"Hehad to feel how her heart fluttered like a trapped bird under his arm, but the breathlessnessmade her almost giddy, not frightened. Her words had power, and her tongue spatout more of them. "Why did you not? If I be to you what you believe of me, whydid you not leave me to them? 'Twas surely—""Youhelped Krenin. Why?"Whyindeed? Krenin was Tolemak, her enemy. But he had been alone, andinjured, and there were so many of them, and they were thieves, not good men,and she could not stand by and watch while… Tears scorched her throat. ThePrince would not understand any of that—nothe, the warriorwho swung his arm and lopped off heads and limbs without thought of who thebearers might be or where they might be from or who they might have waiting forthem—"'Twas—'twasnot by choice!" Turning away, she pressed knuckles to her mouth to stopits trembling.Hemade no response, only straightened away from her and turned the horse toward agrassy bank. When the animal had climbed out of the water, he opened his arm.Unprepared, Aerid slid straight down and fell into marshy grass. She gaped ashe dismounted and, looking impossibly tall and featureless in the faintmoonlight, stood over her. "Understand then—'tis not by my choice thatyou're here, now." Dropping the stallion's reins, he walked toward Krenin'shorse, pushing aside the stray that had followed them. ~*~Author's Personal Note:I hope you enjoythis short sample from The Prince ofVal-Feyridge. These characters have been with me since high school when Iwrote about half of their story. It lay unfinished, on hand-written sheets ofnotebook paper in a binder, for many years before I took it out, dusted it off,and found I still cared about these characters. If you have unfinished storieslurking in binders and drawers, take heart and don't throw them away. You neverknow when they might call you back and become your break-through book. She was also kind enough to answer a few questions for us today:
1. How did you get started in writing, and how long have you beenwriting for? (delete the second part if you prefer not to answer.)I've been a writer since I could use apencil. My earliest publication was ahaiku in grade school, but I remember writing sequels to the books I wasreading while I was supposed to be paying attention in class. I credit fairy tales for my early experiencewith story structure, archetypes, and great imaginarysettings/characters/plots.2. What genre do you enjoy reading? Do you stick with what youwrite, or "'play the field"?I read a mix of fiction from middle grade to YAfantasy to mystery/suspense (romantic and not) to romantic comedy/adventure tohistorical to some paranormal. (My Goodreads page is all over the place.) I tend to prefer women authors (especiallyWisRWA), but I mainly love a good story well told. When I'm writing fantasy, though, I try notto read it and stick instead to romance, etc.3. What do you find most challenging in the writing process?Getting the words on the page. Sometimes they seem to just stick. Once upon a time, the words flowed, but thatwas when I wasn't so aware of "good writing" and effective storystructure. In those early days, I neededa lot of revising time. Now, I thinkthat is reduced.4. What do you enjoy most?Having my characters come alive on the page andreveal to me secrets I didn't know they had. That's when the story opens up for me; it's a mind-blowing moment. I have great admiration and respect for themystery that is the human subconscious.5. What's your favorite drink of choice while writing?Hot tea, strong, steeped five minutes. Black or green but definitely with caffeine.6. What do you have in store for readers next?I've finished Bloodstone, the WIP that won the PRISM contest, and I'm beginning asequel to The Prince of Val-Feyridge . Readers told me I had to write one, and Iagree.
~*~
I must say having read and loved The Prince of Val-Feyridge , I completely agree you must write the sequel!
Thanks so much for sharing with us today, Helen. Readers, don't forget to comment up through Wednesday for a chance to win this fabulous book!
Have a wonderful week! As always, happy reading.
Stacey Joy Netzel
Enjoy the excerpt she's sharing today and any comments could net you winner's choice of an ebook or print copy of your own!
The Prince of Val-FeyRidge, by Helen C. Johannes2011 EPIC Winnerin Fantasy RomanceHeat level: Spicy
Published by The Wild Rose Press
The Wild RosePress , Amazon , Barnes and Noble
A warrior with a destiny, a woman with a gift. Can loving theenemy restore a broken kingdom? Or will forbidden love destroy it—andthem—first?
Prince Arn has adestiny—an ancient throne—but he's not waiting for fate to deliver when he canact now, before his enemies organize against him. The healer Aerid longs forher barely remembered homeland. Marked out by her gift and her foreign looks,she insists she is no witch. The swordsman Naed hopes to honorably defend hisuncle's holding, but he harbors a secret fascination for the exotic healer.Prince Arn's campaign against Aerid's homeland throws them into a triangle offorbidden love, betrayal, and heartbreak. Only when they realize love isblood-kin to friendship, and neither is possible without risk, can they forge anew alliance and restore a kingdom.
Excerpt from CHAPTER TEN
Shiversracked Aerid, coming so hard and fast she had bitten her lip bloody, but sherefused to make a sound while the Prince rode with her clamped to his body. Herlife depended on saying nothing until this man—the Demon Himself for all thecruel efficiency with which he had dispatched their attackers—gave her leave tospeak.Treeswhipped by; a bit of moonlight beamed down on a narrow track, and always thehorse's mane lashed her face. She had given up breathing, gulping air wheneverthe horse's stride loosened the Prince's grip a fraction.Thehorse slowed, and the Prince straightened in the saddle, allowing a sliver ofnight air to slide between their bodies. She shuddered at the shock of it,realizing the skin under her tunic was damp with the sweat soaking through his.She had ceased to feel his heartbeat as separate from hers. Both thundered inher ears, and the sweet scent of fresh blood—on his hands, his clothes, hisweapons—mingled with horse lather, man-sweat, and her own fear.Heguided the stallion off the track and into a stream. Krenin followed, as did ariderless horse that had raced with them out of the village. Aerid guessed itwas one of those that had charged her in the square. Instead of crossing, thePrince headed the stallion downstream, letting it pick its way throughfetlock-deep water. Krenin made no comment. Aerid stole a glance in hisdirection, but the Prince's Second seemed still in control of his horsealthough he slumped over the animal's neck. Around them, water rushed andhissed over stones, the sound echoing the blood-rush in her veins.ThePrince's arm tightened, drawing her hard against the planes of his chest. Aeridsucked in breath, digging her fingers once more into his tunic sleeve. Everymovement reminded her, perched sideways as she was on the saddle pommel, allthat kept her out of the water and away from trampling hooves was the strengthof his arm—and that arm was trembling. Not with the fear still rattling throughher, for he was Tolemak and a warrior. Nor with weakness, though the wound shehad stitched a scant seven-night before could yet give him cause. No, in thatmoment when he had recognized her—in that awful moment after theshock—she had seen all too clearly the fury vibrating through him now. And theknowledge that it had not abated even a whit made her flinch when he bent andhis voice lashed at her ear."Tellme, witch, and tell me true—does Krenin know who you are?"Thequestion itself startled Aerid, not its harshness, for she had expected that.Twisting her head, she caught a glimpse of eyes like coals in a face dark andset."Imean," he said, each word measured and knifesharp, "either who you are or whoyou pretend to be."Sheflushed, knowing full well what he meant. "I—I think not, m'lord. 'Twas darkand—""Thenyou'll do nothing to enlighten him. Hear?"Sheheard him clearly despite the water-song and hoof splashes she was sureprevented their voices from carrying to Krenin. She understood, too, whatunderlay his warning. He wanted no one to know that he, the exalted andinvincible Prince of Val-Feyridge, had been tricked—trapped—into sparingthe life of an Adanak—and a woman!—only to cover the fact he and all hisarmy had been duped into believing—for weeks!—that she was a boy, and aD'nalian. Oh, he had chosen well the moment for his question, Aerid thought, arush of indignation beating back her shivers."Aye,m'lord, 'tis safe with me, your secret."Hisarm clenched so, she feared he would crush her. "I should have let them killyou!"Hehad to feel how her heart fluttered like a trapped bird under his arm, but the breathlessnessmade her almost giddy, not frightened. Her words had power, and her tongue spatout more of them. "Why did you not? If I be to you what you believe of me, whydid you not leave me to them? 'Twas surely—""Youhelped Krenin. Why?"Whyindeed? Krenin was Tolemak, her enemy. But he had been alone, andinjured, and there were so many of them, and they were thieves, not good men,and she could not stand by and watch while… Tears scorched her throat. ThePrince would not understand any of that—nothe, the warriorwho swung his arm and lopped off heads and limbs without thought of who thebearers might be or where they might be from or who they might have waiting forthem—"'Twas—'twasnot by choice!" Turning away, she pressed knuckles to her mouth to stopits trembling.Hemade no response, only straightened away from her and turned the horse toward agrassy bank. When the animal had climbed out of the water, he opened his arm.Unprepared, Aerid slid straight down and fell into marshy grass. She gaped ashe dismounted and, looking impossibly tall and featureless in the faintmoonlight, stood over her. "Understand then—'tis not by my choice thatyou're here, now." Dropping the stallion's reins, he walked toward Krenin'shorse, pushing aside the stray that had followed them. ~*~Author's Personal Note:I hope you enjoythis short sample from The Prince ofVal-Feyridge. These characters have been with me since high school when Iwrote about half of their story. It lay unfinished, on hand-written sheets ofnotebook paper in a binder, for many years before I took it out, dusted it off,and found I still cared about these characters. If you have unfinished storieslurking in binders and drawers, take heart and don't throw them away. You neverknow when they might call you back and become your break-through book. She was also kind enough to answer a few questions for us today:
1. How did you get started in writing, and how long have you beenwriting for? (delete the second part if you prefer not to answer.)I've been a writer since I could use apencil. My earliest publication was ahaiku in grade school, but I remember writing sequels to the books I wasreading while I was supposed to be paying attention in class. I credit fairy tales for my early experiencewith story structure, archetypes, and great imaginarysettings/characters/plots.2. What genre do you enjoy reading? Do you stick with what youwrite, or "'play the field"?I read a mix of fiction from middle grade to YAfantasy to mystery/suspense (romantic and not) to romantic comedy/adventure tohistorical to some paranormal. (My Goodreads page is all over the place.) I tend to prefer women authors (especiallyWisRWA), but I mainly love a good story well told. When I'm writing fantasy, though, I try notto read it and stick instead to romance, etc.3. What do you find most challenging in the writing process?Getting the words on the page. Sometimes they seem to just stick. Once upon a time, the words flowed, but thatwas when I wasn't so aware of "good writing" and effective storystructure. In those early days, I neededa lot of revising time. Now, I thinkthat is reduced.4. What do you enjoy most?Having my characters come alive on the page andreveal to me secrets I didn't know they had. That's when the story opens up for me; it's a mind-blowing moment. I have great admiration and respect for themystery that is the human subconscious.5. What's your favorite drink of choice while writing?Hot tea, strong, steeped five minutes. Black or green but definitely with caffeine.6. What do you have in store for readers next?I've finished Bloodstone, the WIP that won the PRISM contest, and I'm beginning asequel to The Prince of Val-Feyridge . Readers told me I had to write one, and Iagree.
Author Helen C. Johannes lives in the Midwest with her husband and grown children. Growing up, she read fairy tales, Tolkien, The Scarlet Pimpernel, Agatha Christie, Shakespeare, and Ayn Rand, an unusual mix that undoubtedly explains why the themes, characters, and locales in her writing play out in tales of love and adventure. A member of Romance Writers of America, she credits the friends she has made and the critiques she's received from her chapter members for encouraging her to achieve her dream of publication. When not working on her next writing project, she teaches English, reads all kinds of fiction, enjoys walks, and travels as often as possible.You can find Helen on the web at: http://www.helencjohannes.com
~*~
I must say having read and loved The Prince of Val-Feyridge , I completely agree you must write the sequel!
Thanks so much for sharing with us today, Helen. Readers, don't forget to comment up through Wednesday for a chance to win this fabulous book!
Have a wonderful week! As always, happy reading.
Stacey Joy Netzel
March 11, 2012
Sunday Share-Magic in the Storm, by Meredith Bond + 2 book giveaway
Hello to Meredith Bond! Isn't that cover just wonderful, everyone? Meredith's sharing an excerpt and 2 copies of the Regency-set paranormal romance
Magic In The Storm
today, so make sure you leave a comment for your chance to win.
Magic In The Storm, by Meredith Bond
Genre: Regency Paranormal Romance
Heat Level: sensual
Morgan Vallentyne is trapped. A direct descendentof Morgan le Fey, he knows he is destined for greatness — but cannot access themagical abilities that should be his. When he learns that he has only onemonth to achieve his full powers, he begins to lose hope. But after a violentstorm throws a beautiful girl into his path, the magic begins.
Adriana Hayden is desperate to be free. Bornto paint the natural world with unprecedented passion and vision, she is fencedin by the conventions of 19th century English society. But after meetingthe handsome and mysterious Morgan, her world begins to open to enchantedpossibilities she could never have imagined.
Brought together by the forces of nature, theirlove is fanned by the winds of fate. The only way to fulfill theirdestinies is for each to unlock the powers of the other — through the magicaltempest of their passions.
Excerpt:
Gently,he pulled her to the French doors behind them that led into the back garden,but she stopped as he was about to go outside into the rain.
"We'llget wet!"
"No, wewon't. Watch." He let go of her hand and took a step out the door. Adrianawatched in fascination as Morgan stood outside in the rain without one dropfalling on him. It all just seemed to bend around him, as if he were holding upan umbrella – only he wasn't.
He tookher hand and pulled her outside to join him under his non-existent umbrella.Laughing at her expression, and then said, "You know, I don't think it wassupposed to rain at all today." With a wave of his hand, the rainstopped.
Adriana'sworld faded once again as she watched the deep gray clouds just skitter awaywith the wave of his hand. A brilliant blue sky appeared and a dazzling sunshone down on them, warm and full of the expectation of flowers and lovelywalks in the park. She was grateful that Morgan was keeping a firm hold on herelbow. In the sudden shimmering heat of the sun-drenched garden, the freshscent of the earth enveloped them making her feel light-headed.
Morganbent down to a rose bush next to the door that had not yet bloomed, but wasfilled with the promise of many deep red blossoms. As he gently cupped his handunder one bud, it burst into bloom, unfolding its petals even as she watched.He then plucked it off the bush.
Hehanded it to Adriana. Their fingers touched as she took the bloom from him.Small pinpricks shot from his fingers into hers, leaving her hand tingling.
Holdingthe rose delicately in her shaking hand, she tried to steady her breathing.There was no logical explanation for what he had done.
"Then youreally are... you truly are a witch?" she managed to whisper not lifting hereyes from the flower – it all seemed so impossible.
"Weprefer the term Vallen. Witches are ordinary people who dabble with potions,but they are not truly magical."
Morgan watchedas Adriana's green eyes widened with wonder when she finally she liftedthem to look him. The gold and red in her auburn hair glinted in thebrilliant sunlight. "But, yes, truly. I am Vallen. I am a Vallen who cares foryou a great deal."
He couldn'tresist reaching out and touching her. She was so beautiful even in her awe andamid her fears. She was strong and brave in a way he couldn't have expectedfrom anyone else. He ran his hand gently up her cheek and then feathered hislips across hers, leaving a trail of tingles.
A rushof heat went pulsing through his veins as she took a step closer to him. Hewrapped his hands around her delicate waist and pulled her close. He needed tofeel her, all of her. His lips descended upon hers, pressing his desire intoher.
Firelicked at his blood as Adriana opened her mouth and allowed their tongues todance together. He could feel her arms moving around his neck, as she relaxedand accepted him for who he truly was.
Happinessand joy coursed through him. Now, finally, he could be completely honest withher. How long had he wanted to be able to share his life, his feelings and hisproblems with her – to show her just how much they had in common. And now,finally, finally, he could.
Reluctantly,he pulled away from her. He wanted to tell her everything, to share everythingwith her.
"Adriana,I am so happy. Happy to be with you, and to be able to speak with you openlyand honestly," he began.
A frownmarred her beautiful face. "You haven't been honest with me up until now?"
"Ihaven't been able to be. But I've wanted to."
"So,why haven't you?" she said, taking a step away from him.
"Icouldn't. I couldn't risk telling you."
"Why? Idon't understand."
"It'stoo dangerous. I wouldn't have told you now, except you witnessed the fightwith my mother. It is very dangerous for people to know I'm Vallen. What if youaccidentally tell someone and it gets out? I could be killed. It's not commonany more, but witches are still drowned or burned at the stake and we arecommonly mistaken for them. People are not kind to us, Adriana."
Adrianafocused her eyes on the ground, clearly thinking about this. Slowly she noddedher head. Thank goodness, she understood – but still, the fear that she mighttell someone was sharp in his gut.
"Youcan never tell anyone what we are – my mother, Kat and I – that we havepowers," Morgan said vehemently, adding a touch of magic to his voice.
"I willnever tell..." She stopped speaking and raised her eyes up to meet his. "You...what did you do?" she asked, with a tremor in her voice.
"I'msorry. I put a suggestion into your mind. If you try to tell anyone I'm Vallen,you won't be able to – just as you couldn't tell your companion my name until Ireleased my hold."
"Whydid you do that? Don't you trust me?"
"Ofcourse I do, I just.... This is so important, Adriana," He hated usinghis magic on her.
"Youdon't trust me not to tell anyone." She was beginning to get angry again. Hecould feel it sparking out of her, pricking him like tiny little needles.
Hedidn't do anything for a full minute, hoping she would calm down. He wanted totrust her. He wanted to so very much, but there was just the slightesthesitation, the little voice in the back of his head telling him to becautious.
~*~
Meredith Bondis the award-winning author of four traditional Regency romances. She has alsobeen teaching creative writing for the past five years and has published a bookto help all levels of writers. Chapter One can be found at yourfavorite e-book retailer.
Find Meredith and her other books at: www.meredithbond.com
MagicIn The Storm can be found at:
Amazon:http://amzn.to/w2vUBm
Barnes& Noble: http://bit.ly/wxOT8X
Smashwords:http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/127906
Thank you for being here today, Meredith - wishing you much success with this wonderful book!
Don't forget, readers, leave a comment or question (and your email contact) for a chance to win one of the two copies Meredith is sharing! She will pick and announce the winners on Wednesday.
Have a great week!
Stacey Joy Netzel
Magic In The Storm, by Meredith BondGenre: Regency Paranormal Romance
Heat Level: sensual
Morgan Vallentyne is trapped. A direct descendentof Morgan le Fey, he knows he is destined for greatness — but cannot access themagical abilities that should be his. When he learns that he has only onemonth to achieve his full powers, he begins to lose hope. But after a violentstorm throws a beautiful girl into his path, the magic begins.
Adriana Hayden is desperate to be free. Bornto paint the natural world with unprecedented passion and vision, she is fencedin by the conventions of 19th century English society. But after meetingthe handsome and mysterious Morgan, her world begins to open to enchantedpossibilities she could never have imagined.
Brought together by the forces of nature, theirlove is fanned by the winds of fate. The only way to fulfill theirdestinies is for each to unlock the powers of the other — through the magicaltempest of their passions.
Excerpt:
Gently,he pulled her to the French doors behind them that led into the back garden,but she stopped as he was about to go outside into the rain.
"We'llget wet!"
"No, wewon't. Watch." He let go of her hand and took a step out the door. Adrianawatched in fascination as Morgan stood outside in the rain without one dropfalling on him. It all just seemed to bend around him, as if he were holding upan umbrella – only he wasn't.
He tookher hand and pulled her outside to join him under his non-existent umbrella.Laughing at her expression, and then said, "You know, I don't think it wassupposed to rain at all today." With a wave of his hand, the rainstopped.
Adriana'sworld faded once again as she watched the deep gray clouds just skitter awaywith the wave of his hand. A brilliant blue sky appeared and a dazzling sunshone down on them, warm and full of the expectation of flowers and lovelywalks in the park. She was grateful that Morgan was keeping a firm hold on herelbow. In the sudden shimmering heat of the sun-drenched garden, the freshscent of the earth enveloped them making her feel light-headed.
Morganbent down to a rose bush next to the door that had not yet bloomed, but wasfilled with the promise of many deep red blossoms. As he gently cupped his handunder one bud, it burst into bloom, unfolding its petals even as she watched.He then plucked it off the bush.
Hehanded it to Adriana. Their fingers touched as she took the bloom from him.Small pinpricks shot from his fingers into hers, leaving her hand tingling.
Holdingthe rose delicately in her shaking hand, she tried to steady her breathing.There was no logical explanation for what he had done.
"Then youreally are... you truly are a witch?" she managed to whisper not lifting hereyes from the flower – it all seemed so impossible.
"Weprefer the term Vallen. Witches are ordinary people who dabble with potions,but they are not truly magical."
Morgan watchedas Adriana's green eyes widened with wonder when she finally she liftedthem to look him. The gold and red in her auburn hair glinted in thebrilliant sunlight. "But, yes, truly. I am Vallen. I am a Vallen who cares foryou a great deal."
He couldn'tresist reaching out and touching her. She was so beautiful even in her awe andamid her fears. She was strong and brave in a way he couldn't have expectedfrom anyone else. He ran his hand gently up her cheek and then feathered hislips across hers, leaving a trail of tingles.
A rushof heat went pulsing through his veins as she took a step closer to him. Hewrapped his hands around her delicate waist and pulled her close. He needed tofeel her, all of her. His lips descended upon hers, pressing his desire intoher.
Firelicked at his blood as Adriana opened her mouth and allowed their tongues todance together. He could feel her arms moving around his neck, as she relaxedand accepted him for who he truly was.
Happinessand joy coursed through him. Now, finally, he could be completely honest withher. How long had he wanted to be able to share his life, his feelings and hisproblems with her – to show her just how much they had in common. And now,finally, finally, he could.
Reluctantly,he pulled away from her. He wanted to tell her everything, to share everythingwith her.
"Adriana,I am so happy. Happy to be with you, and to be able to speak with you openlyand honestly," he began.
A frownmarred her beautiful face. "You haven't been honest with me up until now?"
"Ihaven't been able to be. But I've wanted to."
"So,why haven't you?" she said, taking a step away from him.
"Icouldn't. I couldn't risk telling you."
"Why? Idon't understand."
"It'stoo dangerous. I wouldn't have told you now, except you witnessed the fightwith my mother. It is very dangerous for people to know I'm Vallen. What if youaccidentally tell someone and it gets out? I could be killed. It's not commonany more, but witches are still drowned or burned at the stake and we arecommonly mistaken for them. People are not kind to us, Adriana."
Adrianafocused her eyes on the ground, clearly thinking about this. Slowly she noddedher head. Thank goodness, she understood – but still, the fear that she mighttell someone was sharp in his gut.
"Youcan never tell anyone what we are – my mother, Kat and I – that we havepowers," Morgan said vehemently, adding a touch of magic to his voice.
"I willnever tell..." She stopped speaking and raised her eyes up to meet his. "You...what did you do?" she asked, with a tremor in her voice.
"I'msorry. I put a suggestion into your mind. If you try to tell anyone I'm Vallen,you won't be able to – just as you couldn't tell your companion my name until Ireleased my hold."
"Whydid you do that? Don't you trust me?"
"Ofcourse I do, I just.... This is so important, Adriana," He hated usinghis magic on her.
"Youdon't trust me not to tell anyone." She was beginning to get angry again. Hecould feel it sparking out of her, pricking him like tiny little needles.
Hedidn't do anything for a full minute, hoping she would calm down. He wanted totrust her. He wanted to so very much, but there was just the slightesthesitation, the little voice in the back of his head telling him to becautious.
~*~
Meredith Bondis the award-winning author of four traditional Regency romances. She has alsobeen teaching creative writing for the past five years and has published a bookto help all levels of writers. Chapter One can be found at yourfavorite e-book retailer.
Find Meredith and her other books at: www.meredithbond.com
MagicIn The Storm can be found at:
Amazon:http://amzn.to/w2vUBm
Barnes& Noble: http://bit.ly/wxOT8X
Smashwords:http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/127906
Thank you for being here today, Meredith - wishing you much success with this wonderful book!
Don't forget, readers, leave a comment or question (and your email contact) for a chance to win one of the two copies Meredith is sharing! She will pick and announce the winners on Wednesday.
Have a great week!
Stacey Joy Netzel
March 8, 2012
Shadow of Deceit, by Mal Olson
I'm very happy to have fellow WisRWA member Mal Olson here today with her debut book, SHADOW OF DECEIT. I read the book and loved it...here's what I have to say:
SHADOW OF DECEIT, by Mal Olson
Genre: Romantic Suspense, 66835 words
Heat level: Spicy
Buy: The Wild Rose Press, Amazon
Can an FBI agent obsessed with redemption and a grievingwidow desperate to clear her husband's name learn to believe in love again?
Shannon Riedel faces down danger when a gunman breaks intoher office claiming her dead husband swindled him. When FBI agent TonyCrazaniak arrives to investigate, sexual heat sizzles. The ex-Delta Forceoperative's massive presence and dark eyes trigger an attraction the youngwidow finds unnerving.
When Crazaniak convinces Shannon she needs his protection,they partner to unearth secrets her husband left behind—secrets involving aTanzanian mine that yields perfect blue diamonds coveted by dealers around theworld—secrets connected to a terrorist leader Crazanaik has vowed to take down.
With danger surrounding them, two emotionallywounded souls bond, but can they put their demons to rest and trust in love?Can they survive long enough to find out?
EXCERPT:
Shannon sat,stalled, her heart pummeling like prey snagged in an icy hunter's trap.
Someone knocked onher window.
Heart in herthroat, every muscle in her body tensed as she jerked her head toward thepassenger side and looked through frosted glass into the face of Special AgentTony Crazaniak.
Relief uncoiledthe knot in her stomach. She'd never been so happy to see anyone in her life.She unlocked the door, and he opened it.
"Jesus, what thehell was that all about?" He dipped his head and plunked a snow-clogged footonto the floor mat as he grabbed her bags and tossed them over the seat.
"I don't know, andI wasn't sticking around to find out."
Crammingsix-foot-plus inches of man into her Porsche was like stuffing two hundredpounds of prime beef into a picnic cooler. But he managed not only to squeezein and make himself comfortable, he took charge.
"Traffic's moving,go!"
She eased theaccelerator, launching forward into an ice-jammed gridlock of traffic crawlingwest.
"You want to tellme what's going on?" His shoulder brushed against hers when he shifted in theseat.
"I would if I hadthe slightest clue."
His heat made hernerve endings prickle. And as far as telling him what was going on? The "wouldif I could" may not have been the entire truth, but it was close enough. Besides,she didn't want to tell him anything. Yet.
What did sheactually know?
Snow bunched onthe windshield as the wiper blades plowed through thick gruel, as her brainchurned, as she tried to come up with an answer the FBI operative would buy."Obviously someone's after me."
"Obviously. But,who?"
"I don't know."
"Jilted lover?"
Snapping her headaround, she glared at him. The full effect of his intense eyes sent heat wavesrippling down her spine.
"No." Cheeksblooming hot, she tugged her glance away and added, "Nolovers."
She felt hisscrutiny slow-slide over her. The bloom that heated her cheeks spread down herneck.
"You ought to fixthat," said Tall-Dark-and-Scrumptious.
And the fact thatshe noticed that he was scrumptious flustered her. She wasn't lookingfor…anything. Although, she could use his broad-shouldered, don't-mess-with-meattitude and his FBI badge riding shotgun until she ditched the Lexus.
"Listen, I'm not…Imean…" What did she mean? "Not in the market…All I want is a guard dog until Ilose the lunatic in the Lexus."
He shrugged."Can't blame a guy for trying." His smile slammed the scrumptious meter so highshe heard bells ring, which made her reconsider her comfort level. She realizedshe would be safer, at least on an estrogen-to-testosterone level, without hismassive presence and raw animal magnetism steaming up the Porsche's windows.
Looking into themirror, she couldn't see the Lexus. She turned around and still couldn't spotit. Even if it were there, it couldn't pass four cars on Wisconsin Avenue on agood day, let alone in this snowy mess.
"On secondthought, why don't I pull over at the next light and you can hop out. If I wanthelp, I'll whistle."
"I don't thinkso." He swiveled to look out the rear window, his mouth nearly brushing hercheek.
Too close. Toohot. Too dangerous.
She couldn't pullover without getting stuck in the slushy excuse for a right lane, but thatdidn't mean she couldn't stop, and that he couldn't let himself out.
When the line oftraffic stalled again, she eased her foot on the brake and said with a prick ofguilt over ditching him in calf-high muck, "End of the ride, AgentCrazaniak."
He shook his head.
"I can make ithome from here. Thanks for your concern." Too bad he hadn't worn boots.
He settled hisbroad shoulders against the seat.
"I no longer needyour assistance." She glanced over her shoulder again. "The Lexus isgone."
"Not my style toleave a woman in distress."
"Distress?" At themoment, he was the cause of her distress. All she wanted was to get rid of FBIAgent Tony Crazaniak.
Her attentionsnagged on the Tahoe in front of them, which attempted a jackrabbit start,fishtailed, and landed in a snow bank.
"Maybe when youget out, you could give the guy in the Tahoe a hand."
"You needprotection."
She reached intothe glove box and whipped out a gold lipstick tube. "I've got it." Pepperspray. She waggled bouquet de Red Hot Chili Pepper at him.
"You need myprotection."
"How do I knowyou're really an FBI agent?" She flipped off the top.
He eyed her smallbut effective weapon.
"Come on, Shannon,don't mess around." Raising his hands in surrender, he leaned away and graspedthe door handle. "I don't think you want to do that."
"All I want is togo home. Alone…please."
A nanosecondlater, she found herself watching him stuff her pepper spray into his pocket.She didn't know how the exchange had happened. Other than fast.
"Protectivecustody." He patted his pocket. "I'll get you home safely, and you won't evenhave to whistle."
Dear God, she wastrapped in her car with a man who oozed so much male charisma she felt like shewas drowning in testosterone.
"Seriously, how doI know your ID is legit? You could be an ax murderer for all I know."
"You want to callthe Bureau?" He offered his cell phone. "You can get the number frominformation. You wouldn't want to trust a suspected mass murderer for thecorrect number."
She rolled hereyes.
"It's listed underFederal Bureau of Investigation. They'll vouch that I'm a really nice guy."
When she took thephone, his body heat clung to it and warmed her palm, irritatingly so. "Areyou, really?"
"What, hiding anax under my jacket?"
"No." She scowledand thumbed in 411. It didn't hurt to check him out. "Are you really a niceguy?"
"What do youthink?"
She thought hewanted to interrogate her. And none of the nice guys she knew were pumped likeHercules. Rather than answering him, she spoke into the phone, "I'd like thenumber for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
The car behindthem honked, and she turned her attention to driving and squeezed past thestranded Tahoe. While edging into the intersection, she concentrated on thesnow squall, the taillights of the car ahead of them, and on memorizing thenumbers the automated voice was reciting in her ear.
"Look out!"Crazaniak yelled as the Lexus materialized from the right, racing toward them."The bastard must have turned off somewhere and circledaround."
"Jeez, he's goingto ram us!" Shannon dropped the phone and stomped the gas pedal. The tireswhined and spun and finally dug beneath the slush. But when rubber foundtraction, the car catapulted forward too fast.
Streetlightswhirled.
Her 944 swappedends twice on the glazed surface and came to a dead stop in the middle of theintersection.
The Lexus revvedits engine, its wheels pelting ice. Then rocketed toward them for a secondattack.
Paralyzed, Shannonfroze in terror. Every muscle in her body locked up. Static electricity liftedthe hair at her nape. An image of the accident two years ago flashed throughher mind. "Hit the gas! Hit the gas!"
~*~
INTERVIEW:
Howdid you get started in writing, and how long have you been writing for?
Iremember writing my first romance when I was in seventh grade. It was anEnglish project, a short story, that I tied into the history subject of the jour—apair of young French lovers who had been kept apart because of the hero's falseimprisonment until Bastille Day reunited them. During high school, I was editorof my school newspaper, and for all of my adult life I've been writing"something." But it wasn't until my daughter and I decided wecould write a romance, that I tried a full length book. We completed twocategory length romantic suspense novels. They never sold, but I still believewith some reworking they have potential. Each one holds a soft spot in my heartbecause we so much fun working on them together.
Whatgenre do you enjoy reading? Do you stick with what you write, or 'play thefield'?
Romanicsuspense is where it's at for me. The only thing better than reading a RS iswriting one. I realized when I looked at my bookshelves that most of my booksare either RS (Stacey Joy Netzel titles top and center) or mainstreamsuspense. Gregg Hurwitz is an awesome suspense writer that I especiallyenjoy. But I'm game for any really well written book and like to start out eachday with reading something that inspires me to write fresh. Margie Lawsonand Mary Buckham always have good examples of fresh writing on their web orblog sites. Tanya French, author of In the Woods, is anotherinspiring author. Now that I have a Kindle, I'm focusing on many excellentofferings available from fellow TWRP writers, as well as many WisRWA author'swhose books are only available electronically.(Thanks, Mal, I'm glad you've enjoyed my books. )
Whatdo you find most challenging in the writing process?Nowthat I've had a book published, I find it harder and harder to find time towork on my WIP. Many time-consuming projects have a way of saying"me first," while I know finishing the next book should be the mostimportant item on my agenda.
Whatdo you enjoy most?Startinga new story and creating the characters, although working out a plot withoutholes can be a challenge.
Whatdo you have in store for readers after they've enjoyed Shadow of Deceit?
Too Sexy for His Stetson , a RS set in Idaho where a rookiedeputy and her training officer try to stay focused on business—the whitesupremacist gang that's threatening their Idaho mountain community—while fightingthe forbidden attraction that sparks between them. Also in the works, is anAdrenaline Series that features an uncover FBI counter-terrorism team. I'm alsooffering two free short stories, which are available on my website, atSmashwords, and at most other ebook retailers. Me and Brad is aheart-warming sweet romance while Danger Zone is an adrenaline-kicked RSthat introduces one of the characters from Shadow of Deceit.You can find Mal at her website: www.malolson.com
And check out Shadow of Deceit's book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MN-ph78gic
Buy links: The Wild Rose Press, Amazon
I enjoyed Me and Brad, but didn't know about Danger Zone. I'll have to check that one out.
Thank you so much to Mal for being here today! Remember to comment with your email contact and she will pick a winner on Friday.
Have a great week!
Stacey Joy Netzel
"Shadow of Deceitdelivers on the author's promise of adrenaline-kicked romance with greatcharacters, a well developed plot, and action packed scenes that'll keepreaders turning the pages and wanting more! Shannon is a heroine who's beendealt a tragic blow but somehow manages to keep on living. Her strength istested when she discovers her recently deceased husband had deadly secrets thathave come back to haunt her. Though knocked for a loop the moment he seesShannon's beautiful blue eyes, FBI Agent Tony Crazaniak suspects she knows morethan she claims. Attempts on her life cast him in the role of protector as wellas investigator, and he's helpless to resist their sizzling attraction. The endresult is Mal Olson's great debut full of action and emotion that you won'twant to miss!"Mal also answered a few questions for me, so enjoy the excerpt and then read on and comment for your chance to win an ebook copy of this wonderful book! (Make sure you leave your contact info in case you're the winner!)
SHADOW OF DECEIT, by Mal OlsonGenre: Romantic Suspense, 66835 words
Heat level: Spicy
Buy: The Wild Rose Press, Amazon
Can an FBI agent obsessed with redemption and a grievingwidow desperate to clear her husband's name learn to believe in love again?
Shannon Riedel faces down danger when a gunman breaks intoher office claiming her dead husband swindled him. When FBI agent TonyCrazaniak arrives to investigate, sexual heat sizzles. The ex-Delta Forceoperative's massive presence and dark eyes trigger an attraction the youngwidow finds unnerving.
When Crazaniak convinces Shannon she needs his protection,they partner to unearth secrets her husband left behind—secrets involving aTanzanian mine that yields perfect blue diamonds coveted by dealers around theworld—secrets connected to a terrorist leader Crazanaik has vowed to take down.
With danger surrounding them, two emotionallywounded souls bond, but can they put their demons to rest and trust in love?Can they survive long enough to find out?
EXCERPT:
Shannon sat,stalled, her heart pummeling like prey snagged in an icy hunter's trap.
Someone knocked onher window.
Heart in herthroat, every muscle in her body tensed as she jerked her head toward thepassenger side and looked through frosted glass into the face of Special AgentTony Crazaniak.
Relief uncoiledthe knot in her stomach. She'd never been so happy to see anyone in her life.She unlocked the door, and he opened it.
"Jesus, what thehell was that all about?" He dipped his head and plunked a snow-clogged footonto the floor mat as he grabbed her bags and tossed them over the seat.
"I don't know, andI wasn't sticking around to find out."
Crammingsix-foot-plus inches of man into her Porsche was like stuffing two hundredpounds of prime beef into a picnic cooler. But he managed not only to squeezein and make himself comfortable, he took charge.
"Traffic's moving,go!"
She eased theaccelerator, launching forward into an ice-jammed gridlock of traffic crawlingwest.
"You want to tellme what's going on?" His shoulder brushed against hers when he shifted in theseat.
"I would if I hadthe slightest clue."
His heat made hernerve endings prickle. And as far as telling him what was going on? The "wouldif I could" may not have been the entire truth, but it was close enough. Besides,she didn't want to tell him anything. Yet.
What did sheactually know?
Snow bunched onthe windshield as the wiper blades plowed through thick gruel, as her brainchurned, as she tried to come up with an answer the FBI operative would buy."Obviously someone's after me."
"Obviously. But,who?"
"I don't know."
"Jilted lover?"
Snapping her headaround, she glared at him. The full effect of his intense eyes sent heat wavesrippling down her spine.
"No." Cheeksblooming hot, she tugged her glance away and added, "Nolovers."
She felt hisscrutiny slow-slide over her. The bloom that heated her cheeks spread down herneck.
"You ought to fixthat," said Tall-Dark-and-Scrumptious.
And the fact thatshe noticed that he was scrumptious flustered her. She wasn't lookingfor…anything. Although, she could use his broad-shouldered, don't-mess-with-meattitude and his FBI badge riding shotgun until she ditched the Lexus.
"Listen, I'm not…Imean…" What did she mean? "Not in the market…All I want is a guard dog until Ilose the lunatic in the Lexus."
He shrugged."Can't blame a guy for trying." His smile slammed the scrumptious meter so highshe heard bells ring, which made her reconsider her comfort level. She realizedshe would be safer, at least on an estrogen-to-testosterone level, without hismassive presence and raw animal magnetism steaming up the Porsche's windows.
Looking into themirror, she couldn't see the Lexus. She turned around and still couldn't spotit. Even if it were there, it couldn't pass four cars on Wisconsin Avenue on agood day, let alone in this snowy mess.
"On secondthought, why don't I pull over at the next light and you can hop out. If I wanthelp, I'll whistle."
"I don't thinkso." He swiveled to look out the rear window, his mouth nearly brushing hercheek.
Too close. Toohot. Too dangerous.
She couldn't pullover without getting stuck in the slushy excuse for a right lane, but thatdidn't mean she couldn't stop, and that he couldn't let himself out.
When the line oftraffic stalled again, she eased her foot on the brake and said with a prick ofguilt over ditching him in calf-high muck, "End of the ride, AgentCrazaniak."
He shook his head.
"I can make ithome from here. Thanks for your concern." Too bad he hadn't worn boots.
He settled hisbroad shoulders against the seat.
"I no longer needyour assistance." She glanced over her shoulder again. "The Lexus isgone."
"Not my style toleave a woman in distress."
"Distress?" At themoment, he was the cause of her distress. All she wanted was to get rid of FBIAgent Tony Crazaniak.
Her attentionsnagged on the Tahoe in front of them, which attempted a jackrabbit start,fishtailed, and landed in a snow bank.
"Maybe when youget out, you could give the guy in the Tahoe a hand."
"You needprotection."
She reached intothe glove box and whipped out a gold lipstick tube. "I've got it." Pepperspray. She waggled bouquet de Red Hot Chili Pepper at him.
"You need myprotection."
"How do I knowyou're really an FBI agent?" She flipped off the top.
He eyed her smallbut effective weapon.
"Come on, Shannon,don't mess around." Raising his hands in surrender, he leaned away and graspedthe door handle. "I don't think you want to do that."
"All I want is togo home. Alone…please."
A nanosecondlater, she found herself watching him stuff her pepper spray into his pocket.She didn't know how the exchange had happened. Other than fast.
"Protectivecustody." He patted his pocket. "I'll get you home safely, and you won't evenhave to whistle."
Dear God, she wastrapped in her car with a man who oozed so much male charisma she felt like shewas drowning in testosterone.
"Seriously, how doI know your ID is legit? You could be an ax murderer for all I know."
"You want to callthe Bureau?" He offered his cell phone. "You can get the number frominformation. You wouldn't want to trust a suspected mass murderer for thecorrect number."
She rolled hereyes.
"It's listed underFederal Bureau of Investigation. They'll vouch that I'm a really nice guy."
When she took thephone, his body heat clung to it and warmed her palm, irritatingly so. "Areyou, really?"
"What, hiding anax under my jacket?"
"No." She scowledand thumbed in 411. It didn't hurt to check him out. "Are you really a niceguy?"
"What do youthink?"
She thought hewanted to interrogate her. And none of the nice guys she knew were pumped likeHercules. Rather than answering him, she spoke into the phone, "I'd like thenumber for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
The car behindthem honked, and she turned her attention to driving and squeezed past thestranded Tahoe. While edging into the intersection, she concentrated on thesnow squall, the taillights of the car ahead of them, and on memorizing thenumbers the automated voice was reciting in her ear.
"Look out!"Crazaniak yelled as the Lexus materialized from the right, racing toward them."The bastard must have turned off somewhere and circledaround."
"Jeez, he's goingto ram us!" Shannon dropped the phone and stomped the gas pedal. The tireswhined and spun and finally dug beneath the slush. But when rubber foundtraction, the car catapulted forward too fast.
Streetlightswhirled.
Her 944 swappedends twice on the glazed surface and came to a dead stop in the middle of theintersection.
The Lexus revvedits engine, its wheels pelting ice. Then rocketed toward them for a secondattack.
Paralyzed, Shannonfroze in terror. Every muscle in her body locked up. Static electricity liftedthe hair at her nape. An image of the accident two years ago flashed throughher mind. "Hit the gas! Hit the gas!"
~*~
INTERVIEW:
Howdid you get started in writing, and how long have you been writing for?
Iremember writing my first romance when I was in seventh grade. It was anEnglish project, a short story, that I tied into the history subject of the jour—apair of young French lovers who had been kept apart because of the hero's falseimprisonment until Bastille Day reunited them. During high school, I was editorof my school newspaper, and for all of my adult life I've been writing"something." But it wasn't until my daughter and I decided wecould write a romance, that I tried a full length book. We completed twocategory length romantic suspense novels. They never sold, but I still believewith some reworking they have potential. Each one holds a soft spot in my heartbecause we so much fun working on them together.
Whatgenre do you enjoy reading? Do you stick with what you write, or 'play thefield'?
Romanicsuspense is where it's at for me. The only thing better than reading a RS iswriting one. I realized when I looked at my bookshelves that most of my booksare either RS (Stacey Joy Netzel titles top and center) or mainstreamsuspense. Gregg Hurwitz is an awesome suspense writer that I especiallyenjoy. But I'm game for any really well written book and like to start out eachday with reading something that inspires me to write fresh. Margie Lawsonand Mary Buckham always have good examples of fresh writing on their web orblog sites. Tanya French, author of In the Woods, is anotherinspiring author. Now that I have a Kindle, I'm focusing on many excellentofferings available from fellow TWRP writers, as well as many WisRWA author'swhose books are only available electronically.(Thanks, Mal, I'm glad you've enjoyed my books. )
Whatdo you find most challenging in the writing process?Nowthat I've had a book published, I find it harder and harder to find time towork on my WIP. Many time-consuming projects have a way of saying"me first," while I know finishing the next book should be the mostimportant item on my agenda.
Whatdo you enjoy most?Startinga new story and creating the characters, although working out a plot withoutholes can be a challenge.
Whatdo you have in store for readers after they've enjoyed Shadow of Deceit?
Too Sexy for His Stetson , a RS set in Idaho where a rookiedeputy and her training officer try to stay focused on business—the whitesupremacist gang that's threatening their Idaho mountain community—while fightingthe forbidden attraction that sparks between them. Also in the works, is anAdrenaline Series that features an uncover FBI counter-terrorism team. I'm alsooffering two free short stories, which are available on my website, atSmashwords, and at most other ebook retailers. Me and Brad is aheart-warming sweet romance while Danger Zone is an adrenaline-kicked RSthat introduces one of the characters from Shadow of Deceit.You can find Mal at her website: www.malolson.com
Mal Olson writes adrenaline-kicked romantic suspense. When her consuming passion for writing allows time, she enjoys reading, flower gardening, jamming with friends on the mountain dulcimer, and hiking in a nearby state forest (or in the mountains somewhere). She has three grown children and one granddaughter and resides with her own special hero in southeast Wisconsin where she juggles writing time with her freelance landscape design business.
And check out Shadow of Deceit's book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MN-ph78gic
Buy links: The Wild Rose Press, Amazon
I enjoyed Me and Brad, but didn't know about Danger Zone. I'll have to check that one out.
Thank you so much to Mal for being here today! Remember to comment with your email contact and she will pick a winner on Friday.
Have a great week!
Stacey Joy Netzel
March 5, 2012
Read an Ebook Week!
March 6 & 7th ONLY
In honor of Read an Ebook Week, my awesome publisher The Wild Rose Press is offering the first book in my Colorado Trust Series for FREE on March 6 & 7th. Hurry to grab your copy before the sale is over!
Get TRUST IN THE LAWE FREE this Tuesday and Wednesday!
The Wild Rose Press has also put ebook versions of the rest of the series on sale!
$5.25 $4.23
$4.99 $4.49 While you're over there, check out some of their other sales as well.
As always, Happy Reading!!
Stacey Joy Netzel
In honor of Read an Ebook Week, my awesome publisher The Wild Rose Press is offering the first book in my Colorado Trust Series for FREE on March 6 & 7th. Hurry to grab your copy before the sale is over!
Get TRUST IN THE LAWE FREE this Tuesday and Wednesday!
The Wild Rose Press has also put ebook versions of the rest of the series on sale!
$5.25 $4.23
$4.99 $4.49 While you're over there, check out some of their other sales as well.As always, Happy Reading!!
Stacey Joy Netzel
March 4, 2012
Sunday Share: An Island No More, by Casey Clifford
Today I'm very happy to have award-winning author Casey Clifford with her new release
AN ISLAND NO MORE
. While I haven't read this book yet (it's on my Nook), I have read Casey's other books and thoroughly enjoyed them! (
Black Ribbon Affair
and
Fireweed
).
She's giving away an ebook copy of AN ISLAND NO MORE, so once you've finished reading, don't forget to comment for a chance to win! Before we get into the great excerpt Casey's sharing today, here's a bit more about her.
So, without further ado, here's her excerpt from the book that garnered 5 STARS at The Romance Studio.
An Island No More, by Casey Clifford
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Heat Level: Spicy
Buy at: Amazon Barnes & Noble
College professor Maggie Meehan thinks she can tackle anychallenge alone, but when an old flame returns to campus he puts hercareer--and her heart--in jeopardy...With a daughter to support, Maggie wants the job securitythat comes from achieving college tenure. The likelihood of that lessens whenSeth Baldwin, a man from her past, arrives on campus with tenure and a heftysalary. Sparks blaze between them that have nothing to do with their careersand everything to do with their hearts.When Maggie's abusive ex-husband shows up making demandsand a disturbed student hassles her, Maggie wants to tough it out on her own.But when a series of murders rocks the campus and Maggie is threatened and evenassaulted, Seth refuses to let her face the ordeal alone.Can Seth's love strengthen Maggie enough to overcome akiller bent on her destruction?
EXCERPT:
"What I'd really like to know, Maggie, is in which role youthink I most resemble him? James Bond, perhaps?"At that unexpected voice, Maggie's heart slammed againsther rib cage. Her tummy plummeted to her swollen feet. She spotted theBondish-sly grin accompanying Seth's words as he walked through the doorwaywith Emily close behind. Giggling, her daughter looked quite pleased withherself."More like his role in Lawnmower Man," she snapped herconversational dart."Ouch…you're killing me here. Lawnmower Man?""On second thought?" She cocked her head. "Maybe moreRemington Steele. Inept. But perfectly attired—whatever the occasion orweather. And in reruns." She eyed Seth's casual appearance: pressed khakishorts, polo shirt in a rich teal, comfortable boat shoes, no socks while shewas barefoot and bare-faced."Reruns! Lawnmower Man. Woman, you show fangs early in themorning.""I wasn't expecting company." Despite herself, she laughed,and Seth walked across the patio with Emily at his side. He stood next to thelounge and peered down at her. She didn't squirm but returned his stare. If hemade comparisons to last night, he shouldn't come calling unannounced. The warmmorning sun turned her sweaty.Of course, he looked cool and polished."Ahh, Mom needs more coffee. Would you like some, too,Professor Baldwin?" Emily grabbed an empty cup from the table next to thelounge. Maggie nodded and so did Seth."If Maggie doesn't mind?" He stared into her face.Could he read her emotions? She hoped not. She bit herlower lip, sighed, and leaned her head against the back of the chair. "Bringtwo cups, please, Em. Professor Baldwin and I have some talking to do." Herheart hammered in a chest not sufficiently covered—at least with Seth Baldwinaround."Good, I asked him to stay for breakfast. Is that okay?""You did what?"Emily smile slithered away and Seth looked uneasy—for thefirst time. "He didn't accept. After I bring coffee, you can talk and I won'tbother you." Emily walked away, less confident than before."I didn't mean to cause a rift.""I'm sure you have better things to do than join us forbreakfast.""Actually, I don't. Mind if I have a seat?""Take your choice." She pointed to chairs several feetaway. Contrary as she remembered him, he settled his lanky length at the faredge of her lounge. She ignored the skip in her heartbeat."I like the view better here." He grinned which enhancedthe smile brackets at his mouth. "Plus we don't have to raise our voices.""Why're you here?""To see you. An added bonus is discovering Emily." Helowered his deep voice. "I didn't know you had a daughter, Maggie. She's delightful,charming, and full of spirit. Just like you…"
~*~Thanks to Casey for being here today! Visit Casey at her blog http://caseyclifford.wordpress.com/ and don't forget to leave a comment and your email contact for a chance to win an ebook copy of AN ISLAND NO MORE .
Have a great week!
Stacey Joy Netzel
She's giving away an ebook copy of AN ISLAND NO MORE, so once you've finished reading, don't forget to comment for a chance to win! Before we get into the great excerpt Casey's sharing today, here's a bit more about her.
Iconsider myself a seasoned woman and aspire to become a seasoned writer. Atthis point, I'm no longer aCasey's blog is an absolute treasure for everyone, writers and readers alike. And I absolutely love what Casey said about revision... "that's where my initial vision begins to sparkle."
"new" writer, but I'm still meeting new challenges and learning with everywriting project I take on. I've raised four sons. I've been divorced and singleparented for 10 years. When I met my second husband, my older sons determined Ishould marry him before I did. However, I soon enough realized he was theperfect guy for me and we've been married for going on 33 years.BeforeI retired, I taught college, mostly writing classes and social andinterpersonal behavior/communications. I love to read, take photos (which go onmy blog), bake and cook sometimes, visit my friends, and enjoy my family. Myhubby and I love to travel and do so whenever we can. Every part of my life andexperience I have becomes fodder for something that could end up in my books. Finally,today is my oldest son's birthday. Doing a guest interview as I am today was afar away dream back then. But if you stay true to your goals, you will achieve.I have; so has he.
1. How did you get started in writing, andhow long have you been writing for?I'vewritten ever since I can remember--I've gone from long hand on a tablet, to amanual typewriter, an electric typewriter, a Commodore 64, an Atari, to anearly desktop where one chapter took half a floppy disk. At least I didn'tstart out with carving into stone. JAs forwriting with a clear goal of getting published and making a few dollars, well,that came with retirement--to my second career as a fiction writer. I retiredin 2000--new millennium, new career. Of course, I was only 27 when I retired.;-)2. What genre do you enjoy reading? Do youstick with what you write, or 'play the field'? I readmostly Romantic Suspense, mysteries, and Women's Fiction. I will enjoy awell-written historical and some light paranormal. I play the field if a friendhighly recommends something different or if a writer friend/colleague produceda novel in a different genre. Of course, I read craft books and try to get anon-fiction book in every now and then though lately that's been mostlyrelegated to research for new books. 3. What do you find most challenging in thewriting process?Mygreatest challenge lately is finding all the time I need to do all that needsto be done for promoting and marketing my work and myself. In fact, if I canfind an excuse to avoid it, I will--this is NOT a good trait. And now that I'vebared my failings to an audience, perhaps I'll be able to get over it.4. What do you enjoy most?Well, if you're talking about writing…Mostenjoyable for me is revision becausethat's where my initial vision begins to sparkle. 5. What do you have in store for readersnext?Rightnow I'm revising the second in the Dessert Dames series. My goal is to have itready to publish sometime this summer. And I'm doing what I call my "mind" workfor the next book in my RS Affair series. I also have this monster (in size)book that should really be revised and broken into 2 books. But that's aproject for still more thought.Readers can also find me atmy blog http://caseyclifford.wordpress.com/where I blog every Sunday. Generally I try to have a topic most readers andwriters will enjoy.
So, without further ado, here's her excerpt from the book that garnered 5 STARS at The Romance Studio.
"This suspense filled romance kept me glued to the book, unable to put it down." ~ Jaye Leyel
An Island No More, by Casey CliffordGenre: Romantic Suspense
Heat Level: Spicy
Buy at: Amazon Barnes & Noble
College professor Maggie Meehan thinks she can tackle anychallenge alone, but when an old flame returns to campus he puts hercareer--and her heart--in jeopardy...With a daughter to support, Maggie wants the job securitythat comes from achieving college tenure. The likelihood of that lessens whenSeth Baldwin, a man from her past, arrives on campus with tenure and a heftysalary. Sparks blaze between them that have nothing to do with their careersand everything to do with their hearts.When Maggie's abusive ex-husband shows up making demandsand a disturbed student hassles her, Maggie wants to tough it out on her own.But when a series of murders rocks the campus and Maggie is threatened and evenassaulted, Seth refuses to let her face the ordeal alone.Can Seth's love strengthen Maggie enough to overcome akiller bent on her destruction?
EXCERPT:
"What I'd really like to know, Maggie, is in which role youthink I most resemble him? James Bond, perhaps?"At that unexpected voice, Maggie's heart slammed againsther rib cage. Her tummy plummeted to her swollen feet. She spotted theBondish-sly grin accompanying Seth's words as he walked through the doorwaywith Emily close behind. Giggling, her daughter looked quite pleased withherself."More like his role in Lawnmower Man," she snapped herconversational dart."Ouch…you're killing me here. Lawnmower Man?""On second thought?" She cocked her head. "Maybe moreRemington Steele. Inept. But perfectly attired—whatever the occasion orweather. And in reruns." She eyed Seth's casual appearance: pressed khakishorts, polo shirt in a rich teal, comfortable boat shoes, no socks while shewas barefoot and bare-faced."Reruns! Lawnmower Man. Woman, you show fangs early in themorning.""I wasn't expecting company." Despite herself, she laughed,and Seth walked across the patio with Emily at his side. He stood next to thelounge and peered down at her. She didn't squirm but returned his stare. If hemade comparisons to last night, he shouldn't come calling unannounced. The warmmorning sun turned her sweaty.Of course, he looked cool and polished."Ahh, Mom needs more coffee. Would you like some, too,Professor Baldwin?" Emily grabbed an empty cup from the table next to thelounge. Maggie nodded and so did Seth."If Maggie doesn't mind?" He stared into her face.Could he read her emotions? She hoped not. She bit herlower lip, sighed, and leaned her head against the back of the chair. "Bringtwo cups, please, Em. Professor Baldwin and I have some talking to do." Herheart hammered in a chest not sufficiently covered—at least with Seth Baldwinaround."Good, I asked him to stay for breakfast. Is that okay?""You did what?"Emily smile slithered away and Seth looked uneasy—for thefirst time. "He didn't accept. After I bring coffee, you can talk and I won'tbother you." Emily walked away, less confident than before."I didn't mean to cause a rift.""I'm sure you have better things to do than join us forbreakfast.""Actually, I don't. Mind if I have a seat?""Take your choice." She pointed to chairs several feetaway. Contrary as she remembered him, he settled his lanky length at the faredge of her lounge. She ignored the skip in her heartbeat."I like the view better here." He grinned which enhancedthe smile brackets at his mouth. "Plus we don't have to raise our voices.""Why're you here?""To see you. An added bonus is discovering Emily." Helowered his deep voice. "I didn't know you had a daughter, Maggie. She's delightful,charming, and full of spirit. Just like you…"
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Stacey Joy Netzel
