Edward Hoornaert's Blog, page 15
June 2, 2020
One of the good guys? #mfrwhooks
In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Quinn has led Marianne Harmon, the queen’s sister, deep into a tunnel — supposedly so she’ll be safe from violent rebels. An eleven-year-old girl, Elfy, travels with them.
Quinn is a petty crook and conman masquerading as a Royal Guardian. Being around Marianne is rousing some unexpected thoughts. A kwayviva is one of the underground towns where Quinn’s people lived before coming to our Earth.
He set a brisk pace, and not because the dome’s light was approaching dusk; kwayvivas never grew too dark to find the way. No, he simply didn’t want the females to see his face.
Marianne’s touch. Her hand. The memory of her legs. All these haunted him as he walked the empty street. He shouldn’t have groped her this morning. She was a lady, and he wanted more than a hasty feel or even a quick tumble with her body — although he’d take it if offered, of course.
Or maybe not. Rather than a tumble, he wanted . . .
What?
Tomorrow or the next day, he’d make contact with the Eaglesbrood family somehow. He could demand ransom. Or he could hand the females over and ask for a reward.
But there was a third option, too, which he’d never thought about until now.
Do the honorable thing: protect them but ask no reward.
Problem was, Marianne would learn he was a fraud. Picturing the disenchantment on her face, the drooping of her sweet mouth, and the pain in her flashing eyes, he felt a sensation akin to nausea. He, who was ashamed of nothing, felt his skin crawl at the thought of disappointing her. Running his fingertips over the smooth, rich material of his sleeve, he wished to all the spirits he was a real Royal Guardian. One of the good guys. Respectable. Worthy of at least dreaming about kissing Marianne Harmon.
Could our conman really be having a change of heart? Or is this an idle daydream?
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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I’m new to selling books directly off my website, but so far it’s running smoothly. The tricky part, as always, is getting the word out to readers.
This month, SFR Station is trying to spread the word for authors who sell direct. They’re sponsoring a sale if you buy directly from the author. This includes my own Love Thy Galactic Enemy. See all the books here.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Buy it directly from Ed’s new online bookstore, or at any of these fine outlets.
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
May 30, 2020
Effing Feline wants to fly #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, want to fly. Just think how many birds I could catch. I could become the greatest flying ace in the history of catdom!
We keep track of these things, you know. Who’s currently the greatest ace? I’ll show you after this word from our sponsor, The Saint of Quarantine Island.
We left fourteen-year-old Billy Seaweed atop a cliff, trying to bottle up the mania energy churning inside him. But the supply boat distracts him. It’s two days early, which means it’s carrying not supplies but another crazy white guy (in this case a crazy white woman) who wants to catch fireworks and become a genius.
Jesus, he sometimes acted as crazy as a white guy.
Speaking of which, the new crazy white guy would have stuff he could borrow, if he got to him first. Billy popped to his feet, propelled high in the air by the wild energy that fizzed through his limbs. The supply boat was nearly to Hotel Point. Eventually someone in Echo Bay town would see the boat and dash out to borrow the crazy newcomer’s good stuff. Living near the mouth of the bay, Billy usually got first crack, but this time he wouldn’t get to borrow anything, and that fucking sucked a mucking buck.
Unless he flew down.
Flew?
Yeah. Of course!
That’s ten. But here are two more for good luck.
Except that in the past, he’d survived the jump from the cliff only by harnessing his explosive burst of energy until the last possible moment. It was hard to leap past the submerged rocks.
Effing Feline here again. The greatest ace in cat history started young. Here’s my hero in action.
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Ed wants me to tell you he’s gotten the edits back from his editor, Danielle Fine, and is hard at work entering them. The Saint of Quarantine Island is certain to be ready in plenty of time for it release.
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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The Saint of Quarantine Island
Maybe you’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about a virus that turns people into madmen, some of whom become creative geniuses?
[image error]Spurred by her husband’s infidelity, a suburban housewife smuggles herself into a wilderness quarantine to catch the new disease. She’s hoping to redeem her empty life by writing a great book . . . and maybe, just maybe, find love with the man called the Saint of Gilford Island. She’d once spent a memorable, though oddly chaste, night with him. Surely he’ll help her.
But a lifetime’s exile on an island of madmen — pirates, a suicidal Indian boy, an arrogant Cambridge scientist, a licentious cult leader, all of them periodically insane then sane and back again — is crueler than any suburban daydream. To survive, she’ll need to adapt.
Adapt how, though? Even if she wins the saint’s love, nothing in her life — or anyone’s life, ever – could possibly prepare her for the unpredictable society these creative madmen have built.
The Saint of Quarantine Island escapes from its pre-sale quarantine on July 1, 2020. Until then, it’s available at a special reduced price. Don’t wait — the price will be rising as surely as Billy Seaweed’s mania.
Amazon | Canada | Australia | UK
Apple IBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
Scribd
May 26, 2020
I’ve got a plan #mfrwhooks
In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Quinn has led Marianne Harmon, the queen’s sister, deep into a tunnel where she’ll be safe from violent rebels. An eleven-year-old girl, Elfy, travels with them.
They’ve reached an old settlement. He isn’t sure the settlement is safe, so he sets out to reconnoiter and get food from the automated machines that still function.
“Uh oh. It’s him coming.” Then Elfy added, “But if he likes you, maybe he’s all right.”
When Marianne peeked out the door, she saw Quinn carrying a plastic container the size and shape of a shoebox. He frowned when he saw them. “What the fish farts are you doing down here?”
Marianne inhaled deeply. “Is that food?”
“I ordered you to stay on the roof.”
Marianne looked into the box. “Cinnamon oatmeal. And meat, and something that looks like applesauce. Elfy, he brought us a feast.”
“Don’t you follow orders, woman?”
“And bread. Not sliced, so I guess I’ll just have to eat the whole loaf. Yum.”
“You need to listen when I tell you to do something.”
“And orange juice.” She turned to the girl. “Elfy, have some juice.”
Shaking his head in disgust, Quinn shoved the box into Marianne’s hands and pushed her unceremoniously inside. Then he returned to the doorway and made a show of standing on guard, knife at the ready. The food tasted better than anything Marianne had eaten in forever. Even Elfy didn’t complain.
“I’ve got a plan,” Quinn said after they’d finished.
“About time,” Marianne said.
“You want to be quiet for once and listen?”
“Elfy, this is one of those rare times I told you about. Go ahead, Quinn, tell me your brilliant plan.”
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Buy it directly from Ed’s new online bookstore, or at any of these fine outlets.
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
May 23, 2020
Effing Feline blushes #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, am a cat, and like all cats I’m proud of my reputation for audacity and independent thinking. Ever tried to take a cat for a walk, without a leash? Hah to that! We cats do our own thing — which makes me admire today’s snippet.
Last week we left fourteen-year-old Billy Seaweed atop this cliff, trying to bottle up the mania energy churning inside him. This week he’s still there. We learn what he plans to do with all that energy.
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Be forewarned Billy has a mouth that makes even a cat blush. Ed tells me he tried to tone it down, but whenever Billy was in a manic phase he said no way — the only time a character has ever come alive enough to refuse what Ed wanted. I admire that so much.
Anyway, please feel free to skip this one. I promise I won’t cough a fur ball in your slippers.
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Billy stiffened his arms and legs like a mythical creature carved on a cedar pole. If he didn’t concentrate he couldn’t fly, and if he couldn’t fly, he might die. Like a guy cooked in a pie, he’d die in the sky.
Shit, this wasn’t working. And he didn’t want to die like a fucking spy in a pigsty. The tide was low, which meant the rocks were barely under the surface. Water pounded the base of the cliff, thrusting watery fingers toward him, beckoning him to its chilly embrace if he didn’t jump far enough — so concentrate, motherfucker!
Tsonkwa,” Billy shouted, hoping sheer volume would give him the energy of the creatures his ancestors had carved on totem poles. “Sisiutl . . . Komokwa!”
But the supply boat coming early meant another rich, soon-to-be-dead, crazy white guy who’d paid to get himself smuggled through the quarantine, hoping to become a fucking genius.
Effing Feline here again. For those upset by Billy’s language, I’ll alert you to a spoiler: sanitizing his language is one of the transformations the boy will undergo by the end of the book. Thus perishes another individualist.
Have you ever written a character who refused to behave? Good for you!
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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The Saint of Quarantine Island
Maybe you’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about a virus that turns people into madmen, some of whom become creative geniuses?
[image error]Spurred by her husband’s infidelity, a suburban housewife smuggles herself into a wilderness quarantine to catch the new disease. She’s hoping to redeem her empty life by writing a great book . . . and maybe, just maybe, find love with the man called the Saint of Gilford Island. She’d once spent a memorable, though oddly chaste, night with him. Surely he’ll help her.
But a lifetime’s exile on an island of madmen — pirates, a suicidal Indian boy, an arrogant Cambridge scientist, a licentious cult leader, all of them periodically insane then sane and back again — is crueler than any suburban daydream. To survive, she’ll need to adapt.
Adapt how, though? Even if she wins the saint’s love, nothing in her life — or anyone’s life, ever – could possibly prepare her for the unpredictable society these creative madmen have built.
The Saint of Quarantine Island escapes from its pre-sale quarantine on July 1, 2020. Until then, it’s available at a special reduced price. Don’t wait — the price will be rising as surely as Billy Seaweed’s mania.
Amazon | Canada | Australia | UK
Apple IBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
Scribd
May 19, 2020
Something every woman needs to know #mfrwhooks
In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Quinn has led Marianne Harmon, the queen’s sister, deep into a tunnel where she’ll be safe from violent rebels. An eleven-year-old girl, Elfy, travels with them.
They’ve reached an old settlement, abandoned when Quinn’s people used advanced technology to ‘hop’ their island kingdom to our planet. He isn’t sure the settlement is safe, so he sets out to reconnoiter, which prompts Marianne to share some age-old feminine wisdom to the girl.
Quinn peered into the darkness as he activated the stiletto from his sleeve. The blade opened with a metallic thunk. “Stay here. That’s an order.”
Marianne looked from the knife to his face. His intense expression, rather than the blade, convinced her not to argue.
She held Elfy while Quinn descended the ladder, turning his head in all directions. When he disappeared from view, she went to the ladder. She listened at the trapdoor for a few minutes, plenty of time for him to discover any nearby dangers. When she saw him dart along one of the winding streets, she motioned to Elfy and started down the ladder.
“But Aunt Marianne, he said—”
“Shh.”
“But—”
Marianne paused partway down the ladder, her head even with the girl’s. “Let me explain something about men that every grown-up woman needs to know.”
Elfy pretended not to be impressed, but the slight widening of her eyes gave her away.
“Men — some men, anyway — enjoy bossing women around because it’s the only way they can feel smart and powerful. Occasionally they’re right and we should listen, but a man is never a good excuse to avoid thinking for yourself. Captain Charleyjohn searched the building, right? That means it’s safe, even if he hasn’t deigned to give us his lordly masculine permission to go down.”
The girl’s mouth wrinkled in a conspiratorial smile.
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Buy it directly from Ed’s new online bookstore, or at any of these fine outlets.
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
May 16, 2020
Effing Feline demands triple pay #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, am NOT purring. Definitely not.
Why not? Because I’ve been told — not asked, mind you, told — that today’s post must serve four three purposes:
Reveal the official new name of Ed’s newest Work in Progress (WIP).
Present the next snippet from Ed’s WIP.
Reveal the book’s cover.
There would’ve been an item #4, “introduce buy links for the book’s presale,” but thankfully the folks at Amazon et al. are slower than usual, so no links yet. They’re taking a nap, I imagine. I know I want to.
#1 — Official new title. Never Saw a Purple Cow is now called The Saint of Quarantine Island. Gotta stuck in a timely keyword like quarantine for marketing purposes, ya know . . . though it truly is appropriate.
You see, Janet’s love interest, Kendo Carlisle, was featured in a TV documentary about his volunteer work, helping the wretched quarantinees. It was called The Saint of Gilford Island, and since Gilford is the quarantine site, the book’s title fits.
#2 — New snippet. We’ve already met foulmouthed Billy Seaweed, a fourteen-year-old First Nations resident of the island, which is filled with people who periodically run mad because of Fireworks, the disease caused by the novel virus.
Fireworks is sort of like Bipolar Disorder. Billy is in a manic phase, filled with mania’s energy while standing atop a cliff. He’s distracted by a supply boat arriving two days early, which means it’s smuggling in a new immigrant whose things Billy would like to ‘borrow’.
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(The picture above shows Billy’s actual cliff. Ed lived on Gilford Island a looong time ago, when years were labelled B.C. (Before Cat). He liked to watch bald eagles at their cliff-top nest. The book is set in real places on this wilderness island, though he fictionalized them whenever the mood struck him.)
Just concentrate and bottle up the whizzing unrest churning through his body. Concentrate and then boom — yeah!
Boom,
Boom,
Boom, he could fly!
But . . . the supply boat, two days early?
“Concentrate, damn it!” Billy’s fingers writhed at his side. He wanted to laugh from the fucking energy and at the same time cry because he was losing the battle to bottle it. Beatle t’battle t’bottle t’boodle . . .
“You stupid fucker,” he shouted at himself, “concentrate!”
Effing Feline here again. Ed is so hissing mean to me. Here I am, doing three things for him — but do I get triple pay? No way! I’m tempted not to continue with item three, but I want to maintain my reputation for being calm and easygoing. I know that’s how all of you think of me. and I don’t want to disappoint you.
#3 So here’s the blasted cover (grumble hiss snark):
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Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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News flash — And terrible news it is. I have to do #4 after all, because a couple of retailers came through and got the book up for pre-order. Here are the stupid links. (Hiss garfle meow mutter)
Amazon | Canada | Australia | UK
Apple IBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
Scribd
Ed’s working my paws to the bone. Tell him to stop it, please!
May 15, 2020
Cover Reveal — The Saint of Quarantine Island
My next book, a near future speculative fiction with elements of romance, is currently gnawing away at my South African editor’s free time. It only took ten or eleven years since I started the blinking book. This is Progress!
I also have a cover for the book. More progress!
I even — would you believe? — have a title! Yay! The hardest progress of all.
Don’t laugh. This title came hard.
Sometimes a title slips off my tongue as easily as “pass the salt.” Alien Contact for Idiots was like that. So was The Trial of Tompa Lee, followed by The Tribulations of Tompa Lee and The Triumph of Tompa Lee. Trials, tribulations, and triumph — they’re even in correct alphabetical order . . . how’s that for brilliant planning, eh? (More like a lucky chance, actually.) The name for the trio of books, of course, had to be The Trilogy of Tompa Lee. Easy peasy.
But if a title doesn’t come to me as easily as pass the salt?
Ugh.
I’ve always had a thing for funeral marches. Really, I love ’em. (I’m sure that says something about me, but tough.) The playlist for me while working on a book title would be full of grim, depressing funeral marches.
Anyway, this book’s love interest was the subject of a TV documentary entitled The Saint of Gilford Island. Gilford is a quarantine area.
Hence the book’s title became The Saint of Quarantine Island. It’s memorable. Appropriate for the times and the story. And, I hope, marketable.
A Relatively Easy Book Cover
I sometimes design my own covers. Make that occasionally, not sometimes, because I’m not fluent in graphical design. If I’m lucky enough to come up with an idea, I enjoying playing with it, though.
This one took me three days. That’s nothing compared to the time spent coming up with a title — but it nonetheless proves I could never, ever, make a living as a graphical artist.
One of my main criteria for a book cover is “How does it look as a thumbnail?” That’s all most e-book buyers will ever see.
By that criterion, this one works. The design and color scheme are simple enough to work in any size. More importantly, at least for this modest (ahem!) writer, the title and author are easily readable.
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The book will be available for pre-order as soon as Amazon’s overworked and underpaid staffers get around to processing it for sale.
And a Great Book Review
[image error]This has nothing to do with The Saint of Quarantine Island, but there’s a great review of Love thy Galactic Enemy on Whiskey With My Book ~ And a cozy spot to enjoy them both.
Five Stars, even. Thanks, folks. The next round’s on me.
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May 12, 2020
She couldn’t trust him – or herself #mfrwhooks
In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, terrorists have attacked a royal ball. Quinn Lebatarde, a con man wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform, has led Marianne Harmon, the queen’s sister, deep into a tunnel where she’ll be safe. From the rebels, at least.
After a hard day’s hike in flimsy shoes, fleeing from violent rebels, Marianne gets a foot massage from Quinn, a con man posing as a soldier protecting her. The soldier he’s impersonating is married; Quinn is not.
She yanked her legs away from his touch. “Tell me…” she began, her voice coming out husky despite her anger and chagrin.
“Tell you what, eh?” He winked, as though assuming she was leading up to a proposition or something.
She turned her face away from him and bit her lip. “About your wife.”
“My what?”
“Shh,” Marianne reminded, but too late. Behind her, she heard a yawn.
“Aunt Marianne,” Delfina said, panicked. “Where are you?”
Marianne turned toward the girl. Her blush wouldn’t be visible in the dim light, she hoped. “I’m right here, Elfy. Uh, how did you sleep?”
The girl stood, yawned, and stretched. “I don’t like sleeping on the ground. I’m thirsty. Hungry too. And I need a lady’s room.”
“I’ll show you the latrine.” Marianne put on her shoes and scrambled to her feet—which both ached and glowed with warmth. She couldn’t meet Quinn’s eyes, though she was aware that they followed her every movement.
She definitely couldn’t trust him. Or herself.
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Buy it directly from Ed’s new online bookstore, or at any of these fine outlets.
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
May 9, 2020
Effing Feline wishes you Mother’s Day #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, interrupt my regularly scheduled snippets from Ed’s WIP, Never Saw a Purple Cow, to bring you a Mother’s Day special.
Today’s snippet is from Ed’s science fiction romance, Constellation XXI, which features a rather unique first contact with aliens. You see, one of the aliens is pregnant.
Very pregnant.
As in RIGHT NOW!
And Sienna Dukelsky, pilot of an out-of-control tugship (the space station equivalent of a tugboat), is the only female available to help with the birth. Background info — Chip is the book’s love interest, who smuggled the aliens onto Sienna’s ship. Geronimo is the nickname Chip has given the telepathic daddy.
“Oh, look!” A tiny red ‘puppy’ washed out with the blood and nearly shot past Sienna — but to her relief, she caught the squirming, hand-sized bundle of slipperiness. “It has a tail. Look, Chip, it has a tail.”
Birth comes, Geronimo thought in her head. What sex?
“No idea,” she answered, “but it has the cutest, thickest little tail I’ve ever seen.”
Male. Geronimo sounded wistful, making her wonder first if he’d hoped for a girl — and second, how well endowed Daddy was.
She scooped up the puppy and cradled it gently. It was a tiny little miracle, the miracle of life in a cosmos ruled by danger, entropy and decay, and she, Sienna Dukelsky had helped.
Effing Feline here again. Do I have a deal for you! 75% off Constellation XXI at Ed’s new online bookstore. (Be sure to bookmark it)
Am I a great cat or what?
Here’s the link to Constellation XXI on Ed’s bookstore
And here’s the coupon code: SE5HV6K4S0
Hip hip meow to all you mums out there!
And now, back to our regularly scheduled snippets — next week, that is. Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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Constellation XXI
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Rediscovering Love at the Worst Possible Time
Although Sienna Dukelsky had been the most promising student pilot at Keening AstroSpace Academy, she inexplicably settles for a routine, unglamorous job guiding incoming spaceships to safe berths at Farflung Space Station. Rumors blamed her odd decision on heartbreak after Crispin Hunt, the love of her life, got expelled.
Approaching Farflung, Crispin’s freighter is greeted by Sienna’s tugship. Love almost rekindles, but is threatened by old betrayals. And when her ship loses power while aimed straight at the space station, Sienna must confront astonishing secrets about Crispin and his cargo—secrets that make hers the most important job in the whole galaxy.
Constellation XXI, Edward Hoornaert’s romantic space opera, continues the saga of the Dukelsky family begun in The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station and Escapee.
Again, here’s the link to Ed’s bookstore, and here’s the coupon code: SE5HV6K4S0
May 5, 2020
How could she have forgotten he had a wife? #mfrwhooks
In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, terrorists have attacked a royal ball. Quinn Lebatarde, a con man wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform, has led Marianne Harmon, the queen’s sister, deep into a tunnel where she’ll be safe. From the rebels, at least.
After a hard day’s hike in flimsy shoes, fleeing from violent rebels, Marianne gets a foot massage from Quinn, a con man posing as a soldier protecting her. Last week’s snippet ended with Marianne saying, “My calf isn’t sore.”
Marianne sighed.
Quinn’s next stroke reached the hem of her dress. He didn’t stop there, either. He kept going up, up…
She should order him to stop. Move away from him. Slap him.
It felt so good, though. While she was trying to decide what to do, his hands reached her knee, and she jerked. He lowered his hands and went back to her foot. She thought she might scream—from anger, or frustration?
Then he was massaging her leg again and she bit her lip in anticipation. He slowed as he approached her knee, building her expectations to near breaking point. With eyes opened to slits, she watched the heaving of Quinn’s chest as he reached under her dress, touching her knee and teasing an inch of her thigh with his caress. Watching the bulge of his hand as it edged under the material was wildly erotic.
And it wasn’t the only bulge visible.
No, she couldn’t trust this man with her honor. The question was, did she care?
“Quinn?” she said softly, unsure whether she was asking him to stop or move higher.
He returned to her foot and started back up. His goal now was clearly seduction. Just as clearly, he was succeeding.
A distraction. She desperately needed a distraction.
And oh God, she had a couple of doozies. Delfina, for one and also—dear God, how could she have forgotten?—his wife.
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Buy it directly from Ed’s new online bookstore, or at any of these fine outlets.
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
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