Laurel O'Donnell's Blog, page 68
July 25, 2013
First Kiss Friday – Deceptive Hearts by Cynthia Owens
Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Cynthia Owens, author of historical romance Deceptive Hearts. Welcome back Cynthia! Here’s the first kiss between Shane MacDermott and Lydia Daniels.
Her breath caught in her throat, making her feel dizzy and faint. The blazing canopy of leaves above her whirled crazily. “Please,” she whispered, wondering what she begged for. “Oh, don’t…”
In an instant he was beside her, his arm sliding around her shoulders. The heat of his body seared her to her very soul as she sank into the depths of his obsidian eyes. She felt the strength in his arm, in his hand. But he wasn’t threatening or intimidating. Instead he emanated a quiet, gentle, strength, almost caring, almost…tender.
“Are you all right, lass?”
His voice! Slightly gravelly, mellow, filled with concern. She stared up at him, and felt as if she were falling. Falling from some incredible height, knowing he’d be there to catch her. Falling into a soft web of gentleness, of caring, that she’d never known before.
“I-I am so sorry.”
“Ah, you needn’t be.” Humor laced his tone, and suddenly he smiled again, an endearing glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “What man doesn’t want to play the hero to such a lovely lass as yourself?”
He thought her lovely! She despised herself for the little thrill that trembled in her heart, but she couldn’t help it. He was so compelling, so warm, so utterly masculine. He was gentle. She knew better than to trust such a man, she knew she did.
And yet…
“And what man doesn’t want to hold a beautiful woman in his arms?” His voice roughened, one hand reaching out to touch her cheek.
Despite herself, she flinched.
His hand paused in mid-air. “Don’t be afraid.” His voice flowed over and around her, making the sun filtering through the leaves of the trees seem brighter, the blue October sky seem bluer, the crisp, smoky air sweeter. “I mean you no harm, Lydia, I swear I don’t.”
He’d caught her up in his spell. “Then what do you mean,Shane MacDermott?”
He moved closer, closer, until she could feel the warm, moist whisper of his breath on her cheek. “This.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her lips in a kiss so sweet and so gentle that it stole her breath, filled her with warmth, and chased away her fears. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, his touch feather-light against her skin. His callused fingers scraped her flesh, thrillingly abrasive. Her heart pounded against her chest.
And she felt no fear at all. There was no harshness in Shane’s touch, no brutal invasion of her mouth, her body, her very soul. This…why this was comfort. This was warmth and tenderness and caring.
He raised his mouth. “Lydia,” he muttered, his breathing unsteady. “You’re so sweet. Sweeter than ripe strawberries.Sweeter than honey. Your hair…” He ran his fingers through the locks she’d allowed to escape, making her wish she’d loosed it all. “’Tis like the finest silk. Your skin…” He stroked her cheek, and she shuddered with pleasure. “’Tis the softest velvet. Your taste…” His tongue licked over her skin, sending lightning bolts of heat dancing through her. “I want to devour you.” His lips moved to caress her cheek, nuzzle her hair, skate over her collarbone, sending shivers of delight through her entire being.
This was insane. It was folly to allow her hands to slide up the strong, corded muscles of his arms. It was absolute madness to sink her fingers into the rough, dark curls at his nape, to press closer to him, absorb the warmth of his body with her own.
But she did. She breathed in his spicy scent, lost herself in his strength. She stroked the back of his neck and gloried in the harsh groan that rumbled through him. His hands slid around her waist, bunching in the fabric of her gown, pulling her closer, and closer still.
“Shane…” Her body trembled with desire, her entire being in thrall to his magic. “Shane…”
As if the sound of her voice had poured a bucket of cold water over him, Shane jerked away from her, his face accusing. Jumping up from the bench, he stalked a few paces away, his breathing harsh. “It seems you’ve a wayof turnin’ a man’s thoughts from his purpose, so you have.”
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 23, 2013
Birthday Contest!
It’s my birthday this week! As a celebration to all my fans, I’ve decided to run a contest. One lucky winner will win an audio copy of The Angel and The Prince! In order to be entered, there’s only 2 things you need to do -
1. Comment and wish me a Happy Birthday
2. Subscribe to my blog. It’s on the left hand side
This contest will close on July 31st! I’ll announce a winner on August 1st.
Good luck!
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 22, 2013
Jousting
For this, the final research blog I will be writing for the month, I found something spectacular for you! And, of course, for me. During my search for jousting for my new novel, A True Knight, I found a really good article at the Classical Fencing website, entitled Saddle, Lance and Stirrup – An Examination of the Mechanics of Shock Combat and the Development of Shock Tactics by Richard Alvarez. Take a look at it, if you have a moment. What it did for me, was put me in the saddle during a joust. I suspect that there will be no time during my entire life where I will have the cause or need to get into a saddle, to joust an opponent. But many of the heroes of my books will. This article let me understand what, exactly it felt like when the joust hit the shield. Mr. Alvarez talks about practicing with a Quintain. I can only imagine that a joust would feel the same. Here’s an excerpt –
“That part of the impact not absorbed by the target, comes back down the lance, where it is felt first by the hand holding it, then by the armpit. It is translated from the grip and armpit of the rider, into the rider’s shoulder and pectoral muscles and on down his back muscles, into his seat and legs.
The force of the impact pushes the rider “backwards” in relation to the horse’s momentum. It even occasionally pushes him “Back and sideways” or in the case of striking at a target lower than his armpit, “back and up”.”
As you can see, Mr. Alvarez is describing the impact that I could only begin to imagine. The article is filled with information that leads a writer to ideas for the story.
Take a look at this article! It’s well worth the time.
I hope you enjoyed this month of research. I hope it filled you with some brilliant ideas for your own writing!
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 21, 2013
Inspirational Quote Monday! #29 of 2013
It’s Inspirational Quote Monday! Here’s the quote for the week – “Go where you are celebrated – not tolerated. If they can’t see the real value of you, it’s time for a new start.” – Unknown
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 18, 2013
First Kiss Friday – The Marquess of Cake by Heather Hiestand
Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Heather Hiestand, author of historical romance The Marquess of Cake. Welcome Heather! Here’s the first kiss between Alys Redcake and the Marquess of Hatbrook.
“Do you know, it was your ankles that attracted me when we first met.”
Alys found it hard to take a breath. “My ankles?”
“Yes. And your fiery dark eyes. You have a magnificent spirit.”
She swallowed hard, fisted her hands in the too-tight gloves. “I like your hair.”
He leaned casually against the wall. “You do?”
“Yes. I always think of it as sun-kissed.”
“I spend a lot of time outdoors. But the color usually darkens in the winter.”
“A pity. It’s quite nice as it is.” She spoke the next words in a rush. “You have hungry eyes, I think.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I do?”
“That was my first impression of you. An austere, almost haughty demeanor, but hungry eyes.”
“Austere. I never thought of myself that way.”
“You seem to set yourself apart a little. No one would think you were the average man.”
“I could say the same about you.”
She took a step forward. “But I am not a man.”
He lifted her hand, touched her cheek with one finger. “I know that.”
Time seemed to have stopped. Her lips parted instinctively, even as her brain screamed, “This is a marquess! What are you thinking?”
“I’m a woman,” she whispered.
One finger became a palm against her cheek. It slid down along her jaw, then caressed the back of her neck. He drew her toward him. The side of her arm touched the wall, underneath a painting of Jupiter seducing a maiden.
“Alys, you are lovely.”
Her breath caught. His fingers had found her back now, made circles on her skin. His other hand reached out to her free arm. It moved down her arm and found her gloved fingers. He tugged until her hand was on his chest.
“Are you real?”
His mouth quirked. “Oh yes, Alys.”
He tilted toward her, until she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She kept her eyes open, saw the way his eyebrows fanned out at the edges, how the tip of his nose was just a little crooked. He had a tiny mole high on his left cheek. His upper lip, slightly shorter than the lower, had a prominent bow. He smelled like gingerbread.
She felt the tips of her breasts harden. The unfamiliar sensation made her want to press herself against him. He seemed to feel the same way, because his hands linked behind her, pulled her forward.
“You’re very warm.”
“You’re very pretty.”
Then, they were much too close not to kiss, even she knew that, who had not been kissed in more than a decade. Her lips moved toward his, his head dipped to her. Breath met, then soft skin. Her hand crept to his neck and her fingers clasped him, clung.
She felt the moist tickle of his tongue at the corner of her mouth. Surprise opened her lips and he swept in, bringing ginger and cake and something unfamiliar, so male, so foreign, yet so enticing she felt her legs quiver.
Her other hand moved inside his coat, inside his waistcoat, until all that was between her and his warm flesh was a thin shirt and her glove. How he radiated heat. The muscles of his shoulders moved under her other fingers as he toyed with her mouth.
Then, suddenly, he was no longer inside her mouth, against her. He moved her hand from his neck. Had she done something wrong?
“Yes?” Hatbrook asked.
Fingers of shock danced down her back when she realized someone else had come into the corridor. She dared not extricate herself and reveal her face.
“Your mother sent me to ask after you?”
She recognized the footman’s voice and sagged with relief.
“I’ll be right down, James. Thank you.”
She kept her face to Hatbrook’s shoulder until the footsteps died away. A moment later, she felt his finger under her chin, lifting. His gaze found hers.
“We should have expected that.”
“It’s the middle of a ball.”
His lips brushed the tip of her nose. “Thank you for everything tonight, Alys.”
She nodded, robbed of speech.
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 15, 2013
A Knight’s Armor
I’ve always found it fascinating the order in which a knight put on his armor. Seriously, think about it. He couldn’t just put the metal against his skin. Imagine the chafing!
All in all, it would take a knight and his squire about fifteen minutes to put on full plate armor. This is based on reenactments. How did they don this impressive suit of armor?
First, the knight wore a linen undershirt and woolen stockings over his legs. Next, a knight donned a padded garment that was called many things – Gambeson or Doublet to name a few. This was sewn or padded with linen or even grass.
First, the Sabatons were put on. These were armor for the feet. Greveas was armor for the calf and ankles and was put on next. Poleyns was armor that protected the knee cap, followed by Cuisses which was thigh armor. So now, you have a knight in plate armor covering both legs. He was still mobile and could still drink or eat.
Some knights wore a chainmail tunic beneath their plate armor for added protection.
The breast plate and back plate would be put on next, followed by armor for the arms and hands. The Besagues were small rounded pieces of metal that protected the armpit. The Rerebrace was armor for the upper arm. The Vambrace was armor worn on the lower arm. And finally the Gauntlets, which were gloves and protected the hands, were put on.
Next would be protection for the neck and head. In the 13th century, the helmet had a skirt to protect the neck called the aventail.
Now, your knight was fully covered, from head to toe, in plate armor. But he was not ready for battle yet. A dagger and sword were attached to the knight’s belt. He carried a shield for protection and for recognition. His heraldry would be emblazoned on the front so that others could recognize him.
Now, he was ready to face any foe that came against him.
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 14, 2013
Inspirational Quote Monday! #28 of 2013
It’s Inspirational Quote Monday! Here’s the quote for the week – “The warrior who trusts his path doesn’t need to prove the other way is wrong.” – Paulo Coehlo
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
Winner of International Digital Awards contest!
Angel’s Assassin did it again! It won first place for the historical novel category in the International Digital Awards contest! Really! If you haven’t read this book, you are really missing out!
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 11, 2013
First Kiss Friday – The Sheik’s Spy by Gemma Juliana
Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Gemma Juliana, author of contemporary romance The Sheik’s Spy. Welcome Gemma! Here’s the first kiss between Olympia Green and Sheikh Adnan of Zahiria.
He came around his desk to meet her. Placing his hands on her arms, his eyes held hers captive. He moved closer and planted a lingering kiss on her right cheek and then her left.
“Thank you,” his voice was husky, and as he leaned in slightly, she tilted her lips upwards just enough to invite him to kiss them as well.
The kiss was warm and probing, and Olympia’s lips parted as his tongue explored hers. He pulled her closer, and she felt hardness against her belly that left no question about his state of arousal.
A sense of empowerment flooded through her. This incredible man was attracted to her. A charged current sizzled back and forth between them, fueling their desire as it escalated.
Olympia’s senses reeled from the exotic scent of him, a deep blend of pine and leather, combined with his own musk. A gnawing need started to percolate in her blood. Her arms tingled where his hands held her, and she felt her cheeks explode in a burst of bright color. The intensity ended as swiftly as it began, before she could consider kissing him back, or placing her hands on his body.
“Thank you for what?” Fighting every urge in her body she pulled away. Her fingers went to her pulsing lips, then to her hot cheeks.
“You’ve saved my life and my honor. Most important, you saved my kingdom from being hijacked by thieving enemies.” His eyes glittered like black diamonds, his mouth promised even greater pleasures. “I’d take you for a walk in my private garden but we’re on high alert.”
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Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
July 8, 2013
Squires
A knight in shining armor. Is there a more glorious site? It invokes an age, a culture, from a bygone era. But what did it entail to become a knight?
In researching my new novel, tentatively titled A True Knight, I discovered that it was more difficult and more expensive then most men could attain. Knights started off as Pages and then progressed to Squires. He would serve as a squire for seven years before he became a knight. As a Squire, he would learn The Code of Chivalry, the Rules of Heraldry, horsemanship, use of weapons (which included swords and bow and arrow). Some of the skills he was required to learn consisted of strength, speed, dexterity, leadership, climbing, swimming, and bravery. These were all skills needed and expected of a knight.
While learning these skills, a Squire would be required to enter into the social life of a castle and learn jousting, music, dancing and courtly etiquette.
The life of a squire would consist of stabling of their knight’s horses, assisting the knight in dressing in his armor, caring for armor and weapons, accompanying their knight to tournament and/or battle, some duties in the kitchen, making sure the clothing was taken care of, running errands, carrying messages and guarding the knight while he slept.
There was a hierarchy of squires. The most valued position was that of “squire of the body”. These squires were the most trusted of the lord.
As I’ve said, it was expensive to become a knight and if a squire had grown too old or could not afford the expense of knighthood, they were allowed to carry a lance and shield, even though they had not undergone the ceremony to become a knight. These men were called Arma Patrina.
I hope you’ve learned that being a Squire was not easy!
Laurel O'Donnell - Author - Medieval Romance Novels, Paranormal Romance Novels and Urban Fantasy
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