Cathy MacRae's Blog, page 45

Thursday's Threads with historical author, Collette Cameron

Please help me welcome Scottish Regency author, Collette Cameron.

Title: The Earl’s Enticement

Genre: Regency-Scottish

Heat Level: Sensual

Buy Link: http://amzn.com/B00KLO64

The Earl’s Enticement Cover Blurb:

She won’t be tamed.

A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects.

He can’t forget.

Haunted by his past, Roark, The Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women.

Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement.

He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart.

Excerpt:

“Halloo,” he hollered. “Is anyone there? I’m the Earl of Clarendon. I’m being held prisoner.”

She shook her head, sending him a contemptuous scowl. “Stop shouting, you dolt. It’s but a weasel or a stoat, perhaps even a squirrel. They come in through the drains or gaps where a stone’s gone missing in the wall.”

She motioned with the pistol for him to move away from the door once more. “I’m surprised none have paid you a visit as yet. As for Ewan, he’s away in London, just now.”

With what could only be described as a derisive grunt, Marquardt obliged her and sauntered away from the door. He rested against the far wall, ankles crossed, crunching on the apple.

A muffled thud, as if someone had bumped into something, echoed through the lower chambers.

He perked up. “That was no pest.”

Adaira whirled to peer into the gloom.

“I say, can you hear me? I’m locked in a cell.”

She spun back around.                

He’d moved to the door, his hands fisted around the bars. Drat it. She was losing control of the situation. His presence mustn’t be known to anyone other than Brayan yet.

She bent to retrieve the sack. No doubt Brayan had come looking for her at one of her parents’ behest. Marquardt absolutely must not see him. Brayan would boast he’d helped lock the man up. From the sound of the crashing about, he’d sampled the flask a good deal more and was utterly bosky.

“Blast and da—” She stopped as Marquardt’s eyebrows flew to his hairline in obvious disapproval.

Lowering her voice, she hurried on. “Ewan’s expected back any day. When he returns, I’ll tell him I apprehended you. He can do with you what he wants. I’m quite sure it will involve the authorities.”

“Apprehended?” He shook his head. “You’re still sticking to the absurd notion that I’m Edgar?”

He tossed the apple core between the bars. It bounced before rolling to a stop barely three feet beyond her. A rat promptly appeared, scrambling to snatch the core in his pointed, yellow teeth. The little beast raced down the passageway with two other rodents squeaking their outrage in its wake.

Marquardt had done that on purpose, the lout. 

                                   * * *                                                

Connect with Collette:

Website     Blue Rose Romance Blog   Twitter   Facebook

 

And the Winners are..!

Congratulations to T. Miles and Denise! Thanks for joining me at The Reading Cafe! I will be putting your prizes in the mail this week.

Friday with paranormal suspense author, Brenda Stinnett

It’s fun to stretch outside the historical box, so today Brenda Stinnett joins us to talk about her new book, Tenth Degree of the Paranormal.

CMR: Good morning, Brenda!

Brenda: Thanks so much for having me today on your blog, Cathy. I'm so excited to be here.

CMR: Would you tell us a bit about your book?

Brenda: Tenth Degree of the Paranormal is a paranormal suspense with romantic elements. It’s a book that means a lot to me because I actually started it when my own daughter was twelve, which is the same age as the young girl in the book. It has morphed over time, with multi-layered themes, dealing with mother/daughter relationships, forgiveness, and the age-old battle of good against evil. I love when people read it and get what’s between the lines. It’s now out in both Kindle and hard copy!

CMR: That sounds intriguing! Let’s take a look at the cover blurb from Tenth Degree of the Paranormal

      We thought the Cold War was over, but apparently not for Barbara and Tiffany Stevens in Tenth Degree of the Paranormal, it could be a battle to the death.

      Whether a hunch, intuition, or something more sinister, Barbara knew she had no choice. Self-deception was no longer an option—comfortable but not an option. She knew each denial she’d ever made left a scar on her soul, each more painful than the last.

      An epic battle between good and evil pits a mother who struggles to deny her paranormal powers against a megalomaniac intent on world destruction.

      Barbara Stevens has always struggled with her inexplicable powers. Her unwillingness to acknowledge her pent-up abilities has not stopped her young daughter Tiffany from exercising her own powers.

      Recruited by a group intent on honing and harvesting these paranormal powers to create a super race, Barbara and Tiffany are soon kidnapped and held on an island off the coast of Russia.

      Suspicion soon grows that Tiffany may, in fact, manifest the ten highest paranormal abilities of astral projection, aura reading, bio-energy transference, levitation, past life regression, precognition, spontaneous healing, telekinesis, and telepathy.

      If proven true, Tiffany’s abilities will trigger an opening to the gates of hell. But can this descent into evil be stopped in time?
                                     * * *
CMR: And, of course, an excerpt:

The roar of surf pounded in Barbara’s ears, and the freezing salt spray stung her face. Rain poured down in solid sheets as she raced across the beach. Drenched, she felt a chill ice over her heart. A nameless evil lurked on the beach, insidious and powerful, and there was no doubt Tiffany was its prey.

Above her head, a thumping roar that sounded like a frightened heartbeat drowned out the surf. She paused in midflight to watch a helicopter appear out of nowhere. It seemed ready to crash on the beach. She held her breath until the rotors started up again, and sand blasted her face. The prop wash left her blinded by grit and rain.

The helicopter landed, and Barbara ran away from it. Lightning ripped the sky, while the thunder blended with the whirring of blades. She paused, trying to get her bearings.

Tiffany shouted, and Barbara looked around, praying she’d spot her daughter. They were angry. Were they mad because she’d used her powers? This crazy puzzle must fit together somehow.

She needed to think. Again, she heard Tiffany’s voice, but this time, her daughter cried out a clear warning. Before Barbara reacted, someone grabbed her, and she tumbled into the sand. Too late, she screamed.
                                     * * *
CMR: I’m so glad you were able to share your book with us today, Brenda. Is there anything you’d like to add?

Brenda: Tenth Degree of the Paranormal was truly a labor of love for me, so I certainly hope you enjoy it. The King’s Vampire is now in hardcopy as well at Amazon. Both books can be ordered from Barnes & Noble.

Thanks again so much for having me!
______________________________________________________________________
Brenda Stinnett

Facebook:   https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBrendaStinnett

Amazon:      http:// amzn.to/1sBlyyu

Web Page:  http://brendastinnett.com

Twitter:       https://twitter.com/brendastinnett

Thursday's Threads with Regency author Jessica Jefferson

2nd in the Regency Blooms Series

from Soul Mate Publishing

Heat Level: Sensual

 
A bit about the book –

Miss Tamsin Tisdale believes herself to be completely unsuitable for London life. After a myriad of social mishaps, and the potential ruination of her family name, she’s shipped away to her cousin’s northern estate. Only after she accepts the type of existence Society dictates she must follow will she be welcomed home.

Marcus Winston, the Duke of Grayson, has a lackluster reputation. The last in a dying line, he’s endured a protected life—rank with privilege, but encumbered by isolation. After a brief encounter with rebellion, he learns the devastating consequences of his carelessness and willingly accepts living life from inside his gilded cage.

However, a chance meeting with the brazen Miss Tisdale gives Marc the opportunity to reinvent himself into the man he’s always dreamed of being. But when his deception comes to light, and ghosts from both their pasts threaten to unravel the intimacy they’ve come to cherish, will either of them set their fears aside long enough to embrace love? Or will Miss Tisdale’s stubbornness divide them?

A little bit of the book -

Marc watched the faint outline come across the dense morning fog, becoming more discernible as it approached. The tall, thin figure was riding along at a perilous speed, given the morning’s lack of visibility. He thought perhaps it was some gangly young man misguided in the fog. It wouldn’t be the first time someone accidentally stumbled upon the vast property that made up his family’s immodest estate.

Then the fog parted in an almost biblical manner, revealing his gross inaccuracy.

Were those ... breasts?

Marc closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Typically, women didn’t ride alone at such an hour and they certainly didn’t wander unexpectedly across his property. It’d been quite a while, his last birthday to be exact, since his last intimate encounter with a woman—a gift, compliments of St. Regis—so there was always the possibility that perhaps his half-drunk, sex-starved mind had conjured up the sensual image.

He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked back again toward the horizon.

Yes, those were most certainly breasts.

And she was most definitely not a young man. The woman’s riding habit pulled taut against her body as she raced toward him. Her hair was blowing behind her—various hues of auburn and gold, like wild flames curling about in the wind. Then a decidedly feminine voice burst through the morning’s silence, interrupting his self-doubt.

“Oh, thank goodness I found you!”

This was no mirage. She was indeed very real.

And very loud.
__________________________________________________________________________
A bit about the author –

Jessica Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she likes to think of it—almost Chicago.  She is heavily inspired by classic sweeping, historical romance novel-but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and comedy.  She invites you to visit her at jessicajefferson.com and read more of her random romance musings.

http:// www.JessicaJefferson.com

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The Weird and Wonderful Middle Ages, by Sarah Hegger

Today's post is from visiting author, Sarah Hegger. You met her last week with her debut novel, The Bride Gift, in Thursday's Threads. Now learn what she loves about writing in the Middle Ages.
Thanks for taking time to visit with us today, Sarah! Best of luck with your novel. I love the excerpt you included. The air really crackles between Helena and Guy!
Thank you, Cathy, for having me over to share the release of my debut novel, The Bride Gift.

The book is set in England in 1153 with the war between King Stephen and Empress Maude (Mathilda) as its backdrop.

I have had a longstanding love affair with the medieval period. I think it stems from that old version of Camelot with Richard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave.

Have a little peek at this if you have a moment. https://www.youtube.comwatch?v=U55m_TzM7jw&list=RDcg4YrOlAkds

It was certainly encouraged by Rutger Hauer in Ladyhawke .






And by the time I found The Princess Bride, it was a done deal.



While researching the period, I also unearthed a couple of interesting facts. For those of you with a bent towards Geekdom, like myself, you will find this fascinating.

·        You could get high on medieval bread. If the harvest was bad, they often had to use old rye to make bread and it was frequently infected with ergot, a fungus with LSD-like properties

·        Roger Bacon was a Franciscan Friar who lived between 1214 and 1292 and this is what he predicted in his Epistola de Secretis Operibus: “Cars can be made so that without animals they will move with unbelievable rapidity,” and “flying machines can be constructed by which artificial wings are made to beat the air like a flying bird.” He also predicted steamships, submarines and diving suits.

·        One of the earliest versions of the London Bridge was destroyed in 1014 when the Saxons rowed up the Thames, tied ropes to it, and pulled it down! This helped regain London for the Anglo-Saxon king against the Danes. It is possible that this event may have been the inspiration for the nursery rhyme “London Bridge is falling down”.

This is normally the stage at which my husband gives me the ‘enough’ look.

So, let me tell you a little something about The Bride Gift

It’s 1153 in the period dubbed ‘The Anarchy’, King Stephen and Empress Maud are not the only ones embroiled in a fierce battle of the sexes.

Determined to control her own destiny, wilful Helena of Lystanwold has chosen just the husband to suit her purposes. But, when her banished guardian uncle attempts to secure her future and climbs through her bedroom window with a new husband by a proxy marriage, she understandably balks. Notorious warrior Guy of Helston is everything Helena swore she would never marry; a man who lives by the sword, like the man who murdered her sister. 

This marriage finally brings Guy close to his lifetime dream of gaining lands and a title. He is not about to let his feisty bride stand in his way. A master strategist, Guy sets out to woo and conquer his lady.

Against a backdrop of vengeance, war and betrayal, Guy and Helena must learn to forge a united front or risk losing everything.
                                     *****
 
And I couldn’t leave without giving you a small taste:

 The men had practiced in the yards since early morning. Now, they streamed into the hall, filthy, sweat stained, and bellowing for food. Helena stiffened her spine. They would not treat her hall as if it were a rough camp.

“Sir Guy,” her voice rang across the expanse.

His face was streaked with perspiration, his tunic hanging haphazardly from one meaty shoulder. His bare chest gleamed from his exertions.

The butterflies were back inside her and flinging themselves about. Helena tightened her resolve. This wouldn’t do.

She swept from the dais toward them. Around Guy, his men went silent and fell away.

They would not come to her table filthy and stinking of sweat. This was her keep.

“The meal will wait until you have had time to prepare yourselves.” She spoke to their leader, but let her glance drift over the rowdy lot.

Their eyes slid shamefaced to the floor. They looked like a collection of overgrown, rebuked boys.

A small smile tugged at her mouth. She suppressed it harshly.

“Hah?” Sir Guy grunted at her.

Helena gritted her teeth. The man was able to speak. She’d seen as much around his men, but for her he could do nothing more than, ‘hah?’

“Tell me, Sir Guy,” she lisped sweetly, “was that ‘Aye, my lady’ or ‘Nay, my lady’ or, mayhap, it was aught else entirely?”

Guy went absolutely still before her. One corner of his mouth turned up slightly. Helena’s pulse fluttered against the side of her neck in reaction.

She couldn’t read the expression turning his eyes near silver, but her pulse kicked rapidly in response.

He lunged toward her, deadly swift. She squealed as his hands closed on her hips and lifted her into the air, as if she weighed no more than thistledown. Good Lord, he is strong. A small thrill chased through her innards. Her hands clung to his forearms convulsively. The feel of his skin beneath her hands was hot as the sensation of touching him swept up her arms.

“As you will, my lady,” he rumbled.

Around them, the hall broke into raucous yells and whistles. Helena’s face flamed with heat.

He lowered her closer, his mouth hard and swift on hers before he placed her back to the floor. His men cheered and stamped their feet.

Helena’s lips tingled where he’d touched them. She raised her fingertips to her mouth. Then jerked her hand away, irked by her own reaction and unable to still her pounding heart.

“Will you attend me as I bathe?” he drawled, smooth as silk.

She tried to regain her composure, but her blood rushed through her ears and her knees knocked together beneath her bliaut. She raised her chin.

“Geoffrey will attend you.” She wouldn’t let him see how he had completely overset her.

Guy merely grinned at her, a great, unabashed beam of nonsense that prodded at her to respond.

She turned her shoulder on him instead. “The rest of you may wash in the barracks,” she groused at the grinning bunch of louts. “Merry will bring cloths.”

They turned as one and stormed for the screens.

Helena wished she could follow them. Guy’s kiss, his touch still lingered. But the hall was looking to her. She put a bright smile on her face. She would act as if naught had happened.

Amazon: 
http://www.amazon.com/The-Bride-Gift-Sarah-Hegger-ebook/dp/B00KBAYOTM/
*******************************************************************************

Born British and raised in South Africa, Sarah Hegger suffers from an incurable case of wanderlust. Her match? A hot Canadian engineer, whose marriage proposal she accepted six short weeks after they first met. Together they’ve made homes in seven different cities across three different continents (and back again once or twice). If only it made her multilingual, but the best she can manage is idiosyncratic English, fluent Afrikaans, conversant Russian, pigeon Portuguese, even worse Zulu and enough French to get herself into trouble.

Mimicking her globe trotting adventures, Sarah’s career path began as a gainfully employed actress, drifted into public relations, settled a moment in advertising, and eventually took root in the fertile soil of her first love, writing. She also moonlights as a wife and mother.

She currently lives in Draper, Utah, with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and aforementioned husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books.

I love to hear from readers and you can find me at any of the places below.
Website
Facebook
Twitter

Join me at The Reading Cafe

Good morning! Today I'm being interviewed at The Reading Cafe.. Sandy reviewed my debut book last year and graciously posted a review for The Highlander's Reluctant Bride. today.
Check out the interview and review and sign in at the Cafe for a chance to win one of a couple of giveaways (USA only this time). Instructions are at the bottom of the review. Come check it out!

Thursday's Threads - The Bride Gift, by Sarah Hegger

Today we spotlight Sarah Hegger and her Medieval Romance, The Bride Gift .

Heat Level: Sizzling

Buy Link:
http://www.amazon.com/The-Bride-Gift-Sarah-Hegger-ebook/dp/B00KBAYOTM/

Blurb

It’s 1153 in the period dubbed ‘The Anarchy’, King Stephen and Empress Maud are not the only ones embroiled in a fierce battle of the sexes.

Determined to control her own destiny, willful Helena of Lystanwold has chosen just the husband to suit her purposes. But, when her banished guardian uncle attempts to secure her future and climbs through her bedroom window with a new husband by a proxy marriage, she understandably balks. Notorious warrior, Guy of Helston, is everything Helena swore she would never marry; a man who lives by the sword, like the man who murdered her sister.

This marriage finally brings Guy close to his lifetime dream of gaining lands and a title. He is not about to let his feisty bride stand in his way. A master strategist, Guy sets out to woo and conquer his lady.

Against a backdrop of vengeance, war and betrayal, Guy and Helena must learn to forge a united front or risk losing everything.

Excerpt

Slowly, Helena turned and approached her husband.

His large body barely fit in the wooden tub. He sat with his knees almost to his ears. A slight frown creased his dark brows.

Helena dipped her hand in the soft soap they kept for bathing; more jasmine. She rubbed it between her fingers to create lather. When they next made soap she would need to produce something less feminine for Guy.

From this position, his head was almost on a level with her breasts. A feeling akin to excitement fluttered through her belly.

He watched her face as she leaned forward to soap his head, working it through his cropped hair. The bristly ends tickled her palm.

She reached for a bucket of rinsing water. He closed his eyes as soap and bubbles streamed down the strong planes of his cheeks. Droplets clung to his lashes. They were almost ridiculously long and so incongruous with the rest of him. Probably the only part of him that could be called soft.

He dropped his head forward onto his knees so she could finish rinsing.

Guy presented the broad expanse of his back, and she laid her hands across the sun-darkened skin. He was warm under her fingers and beneath the smooth skin, his muscles bunched slightly as she spread the soap. This might be bearable. When she rubbed her fingers on either side of his spine, he made a soft purr of enjoyment.

Her pulse jumped.

"Soft hands," he said.

Her fingers traced a long, puckered scar running beneath his shoulder blade and disappearing around his side.

"A lance man with poor aim," he murmured.

The skin on his back was firm, but marked by the scars of a lifetime spent wielding a sword. "It appears you really do fight," she commented lightly.

For some reason those accumulated injuries and the pain they had caused angered her as well as rendered her sorry for his suffering. Helena steeled her resolve. It was just these sorts of wounds that made him perfect for her purpose.

She lathered soap across his shoulders and down the thick, corded muscle of each arm. Her belly reacted with another odd little quiver as her fingers slid across his skin like oil poured from a vial.

Guy raised his eyes to her face. A slumberous warmth made them glow nearly silver.

Her breath quickened in her chest as if she had been running; her hands tingled where they touched him.

Sarah is always delighted to hear from readers. She can be reached at any and all of the following places:

Website

Facebook

Twitter

And the winner is....!!!

The winner of an autographed copy of The Highlander's Accidental Bride is - Margo! Would you please email me at cathymacrae@cathymacraeauthor.com? I need a way to get this to you! (Please contact me by 5/16/14) Thanks!!! and Congratulations!!!

Thursday's Threads

For those of you new to this website, Thursday's Threads is a weekly rotation from authors at Soul Mate Publishing. Today we feature Elle Hill, paranormal romance author.
Elle Hill’s Hunted Dreams

Genre: Paranormal romance


Heat level: Sensual.

Hook: A woman trapped in an endless cycle of nightmares. A handsome hero committed to rescuing her. It’s just like Sleeping Beauty – except the dreaming damsel is the sword wielder and the hero is a psychic vampire feeding off her pain.

Excerpt:

“The Leeches got their nickname from the way they eat.” Reed’s voice was even.

“They drink blood?” she breathed.

He shook his head. “A little less literal. The Broschi are empathic. They can feel and even evoke other people’s feelings, negative ones like fear, pain, horror.”

“Sun and stars,” she breathed. She got it.

She got it.

“They’re eating me,” she said, and laughed, but not humorously. “These superhuman, psychic Leech people are keeping me trapped in nightmares, eating my feelings.” Her chest felt heavy. She pressed her left hand against it and felt its gentle rise and fall.

None of this is real. All this drama, all this fear, all the pain and anger and malice. None of it exists except in the form of juicy brainwaves that these beings sip like mint juleps. No wonder she couldn’t die, couldn’t escape, couldn’t ever wake up.

Reed’s face was flushed, his nostrils wide. Her handsome hero. For a minute, she hated him, hated that he got to wake up, hated this situation, hated everything boxing her in this narrow world.

Katana glared at him for a moment. “I’m trapped in here,” she grated.

His face relaxed into compassion. Hers hardened.

“I know,” he said.

She stared at him for a moment longer. Finally, with a sigh, she leaned her head against the glass. “Who are you, Reed?”

“I’m a Leech, too, Katana.”

Links:

Blog: http://ellehillauthor.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.ellehill.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Elle-Hill/155409064486649?ref=hl

Purchasing the book: http://www.amazon.com/Hunted-Dreams-ebook/dp/B00CHUEIIG

Twitter: @ellehillauthor

The Books Have Arrived!! (it must be time for a giveaway!)

Look what came in the mail yesterday! Any author can tell you, there are certain signposts along the path of publication. Starting a book. Finishing a book. Sending out that first query letter.  Getting 'the call' or offer to publish your book. Seeing your name added to your publisher's release date list. Sending your book cover info to the cover artist. Seeing your cover for the first time. The first time you see your book listed on one of the retail sites. Holding your book in your hand. Well, here it is!
So, how about a celebration? Comment on this post- ask (or comment on) anything about my writing; this book, my current work-in-progress, whatever- and you'll have a chance to win an autographed copy of The Highlander's Accidental Bride! (US or Canada recipient only)
I'll post the winner Saturday, May 10th. Be sure to leave your email address with your comment or check back to see if you are the winner! An alternate will be chosen the following week if I can't contact you.