Kim Iverson Headlee's Blog: Book Musings from the Maze of Twisty Passages, page 23

Celebrating new beginnings in The Druid Knight Tales by @RuthACasie #MedievalMonday

Medieval Monday Winter 2015-16 shifts into celebration mode today, of any occasion described within the featured book, not necessarily Christmas or Winter Solstice or Saturnalia or other midwinter excuses to party.

Today I am pleased to welcome back Ruth A. Casie and her short story, The Druid Knight Tales .

Synopsis:
After a year of searching, Maximilian, the druid Grand Master, finds the sacred mistletoe destined for his soul mate shriveled and dead. He must journey to the Otherworld and tell the Ancestors of his failure.

Ellyn of Brodgar is an exceptional healer. But each healing kiss depletes her energy and brings her closer to death. Ellyn needs to find her own healing power before it’s too late.

Max and Ellyn are tossed into the Otherworld and have until the third sunset to appeal to the Ancestors or be lost forever. Together they find love, and as the last rays of the third sunset slip away, both are willing to sacrifice their hopes, dreams, and lives for the other. Do they have what it takes to escape the Otherworld and begin their life together?


Buy links:  Amazon | iBooks | Kobo |
Excerpt:

“You knew, didn’t you?” She waited but a heartbeat. “You made certain where I stood and when the portal opened you wished me a safe journey.”

“I knew once you spent time together and learned to depend on each other you both would make the right decision. Ellyn, I know you and Max are to face challenges in the future. I will be there, always,” Doward voiced with quiet determination.

“Thank you, Doward.” She placed her hand on his arm. “We appreciate your devotion and friendship.”

“I cannot change what is fated but I will do what I can—”

“That is more than anyone could ask.” There was nothing she could do about the future. It would unfold as it was destined. Unless… she shaped it. Gave it direction. Knowing what the future held allowed them to prepare for it. Every moment was precious and she would make every one count.

She saw Max up ahead and her chest squeezed tighter with pride and love. He was her heart and together they could face anything. She glanced at Doward beside her. With a friend like him maybe the three of them could shape their destiny rather than be at its mercy. It might take a lifetime but something inside her said it was worth a try. They caught up to Max and the others.

The Grand Master stood before the bonfire and removed his tunic for everyone to see the sacred runes tattooed across his back. He picked up a lit branch. With his other arm he gathered Ellyn to his side. She ran her hand down his back, which made his muscles flinch and his tattoos softly glow.

He bent to her ear. “The runes warm to your touch.”

“Perhaps it is a sign we are truly soul mates.” She kept her eyes forward.

The sign. Of course. He smiled and raised the torch. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Her name will be Rebeka.” She stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes.

“Who?” he asked, a startled expression spread across his face.

“Our daughter. Arik’s soul mate.” A satisfied smile played on Ellyn’s lips.

“She will be a mighty woman,” he teased.

She looked into his eyes. “She will be the best of both of us. Now, finish the ritual. We have important things to… celebrate.” She stepped aside and planted her staff deep into the ground between them.

He covered her hand with his. The staff glowed but only for them.

“Hail, Guardians, we thank you for the power of air, fire, water, and earth.”

“For all you have given to us, we thank you for the year,” the congregation replied.

“For the new year we make this oath. We pledge ourselves to the Guardians, the Ancestors,” he looked down at Ellyn, “and to each other. May our hearths and homes be safe and strong for another year.”

“For all you offer us, we give thanks for the year to come.”

He tossed the torch onto the pile and listened to the people shout with enthusiasm. He gathered Ellyn into his arms. “To hearth and home, my love.”

They sealed their pledge with a kiss.

***
Enter this giveaway for an autographed copy of
King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***
Those who aspire to greatness
must first learn servanthood. All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Raging Sea: Reckonings . Please enter often, and good luck!

Gawain wrestles with the enemy in Ch 9/Sc 1a of RAGING SEA by @KimHeadlee #amwriting

Graphic overlay (c)2015 by Kim Headlee. Welcome back to my weekly #amwriting excerpts on The Maze! 

Life was brutal in ancient times, and most cultures revolved around the men who kept the people safe: the warriors. Even celebrations could be bellicose in nature, especially among Celtic peoples.

One of the most popular Celtic traditions during a feast involved staging a wrestling match. Two champions were chosen to compete for the "hero's portion," the choicest haunch of the feast's main attraction, usually a roasted boar.

Today's excerpt is set during the feast celebrating Morghe and Urien's nuptials. Arthur's oldest nephew, Gawain, finds a worthy opponent in Fergus, foster brother of one of Arthur's deadliest enemies.

This wrestling match, though on the surface a friendly bout, sets in motion consequences that will hound Gawain for the rest of his life.

Previous excerpts of Raging Sea  Chapter 7: Sc 1 | Sc 2 | Sc 3 | Sc 4 | Sc 5a | Sc 5b |
Chapter 8: Sc 1a | Sc 1B | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Raging Sea Chapter 9, Scene 1a©2015 by Kim HeadleeAll rights reserved.
HALF CROUCHING AND half lying across his supine opponent, pinning the man’s arms and immobilizing his legs, Gawain struggled to regain his breath while awaiting the victory proclamation. Fergus had fought a hard wrestling match that had ended only when the Scot had made a tactical error to give Gawain the opportunity he needed to secure the win.

Now, listening to the whistles and claps and hoots of the feasters, he could only imagine how he and Fergus must look: shirtless, sweating, panting, and sprawled across the slate and rushes, body to body like a pair of spent lovers.

Gawain grinned. “I thank you for the fine tumble,” he murmured to his opponent. “It was most satisfying.”

Fergus’s answering grin seemed to carry a sly undercurrent. Gawain could have sworn that the man answered with something that sounded like, “Good luck.” Since that made no sense, he decided the Scot must have said, “Good bout.”

“Well done, Gawain map Loth, my new sister’s son by marriage!” boomed Urien from his place at the high table. “Rise and claim the hero’s portion.”

The disappointed groans uttered by the Scotti contingent were drowned by the accolades of Gawain’s kin and companions-at-arms and the other Brytoni guests. Gawain rolled to his feet and offered his hand to help Fergus stand. The Scot turned to address his countrymen.

“Nae need for that noise, me brave sword-brothers! I shall be having me way with yon bonnie lass ere long.”

“Any day!” Gawain swatted Fergus on the backside, and the Scot jumped like a startled maiden. “Or night.”

***
Those who aspire to greatness
must first learn servanthood. All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Raging Sea: Reckonings . Please enter often, and good luck!

Cinderella Countdown: The Cinderella Series collection by Kae Elle Wheeler @kathylwheeler

Cinderella Series ~ the collection By Kae Elle Wheeler  Genre: historicalEnjoy Kae Elle Wheeler's twist on Cinderella all in one set. 
The Wronged Princess – book i Finding his mysterious princess by trying her glass slipper on every maiden in Chalmers Kingdom sounded like a brilliant scheme until the silly thing slid quite easily on the foot of the wrong girl. Now how is Prince Charming supposed to find his true love? Unbeknownst to either, his mother, the queen and her feisty twin (Cinderella’s infamous fairy godmother) have a lesson to impart—impulsive decisions, do not a future king make! 
The Unlikely Heroine – book ii Lady Pricilla is a modern woman. Marriage and children? Hah! She has brains and intends to use them. But Sir Arnald is different. Isn’t he? And how will they survive when they discover villains embroiled with smuggled goods and danger? 
The Surprising Enchantress – book iii Delusions of grandeur? Happily-ever-after? Lady Esmeralda is destined for life with a fluttering eye syndrome—a deterrent to any prospective intended. Alessandro de Lecce’s efforts to save Chalmers Kingdom and future heir are nil without Lady Esmeralda’s assistance. There is more to this fluttering-eye miss than meets the… eye! 
The Price of Scorn – book iv 
Fourteen years after Prince Charming and Cinderella are crowned as King and Queen of Chalmers, Cinderella and her sisters gather at their mother’s deathbed. Lady Hildegard Roche has nothing but resentment and scorn for the stepchild who culminates all that was stolen from her. 
Stunned to silence, the sisters learn how tragedy shaped their mother into the woman she became. The question is: Can they forgive her? 
"Sweetly Enchanting." – Rita Nominee, Amanda McCabe 
"The timeless Cinderella tale travels in a whole new direction." Silver James - Two time IDA Winner 
“A delightful twist on a classic fairytale.” Award winning author, Alicia Dean 
Cinderella snatched one arm and Essie the other as they dragged Pricilla into the first unlocked chamber they could find. Lucky for them, Pricilla’s amusement was so great it lessened her resistance.
“What?” Pricilla choked out, laughing so hard she bent at the waist. “I am just having a bit of fun.”
“You terrified that poor chambermaid out of her wits,” Essie accused.
“We shall never survive the aftermath,” Cinderella muttered. Her heart pounded furiously against her chest. She had to get that stick out of Pricilla’s hands, and soon, before she set the entire castle afire or turned everyone into chirping crickets.
“Where are we?” Pricilla asked, swiping tears from her eyes. Once she’d finally calmed enough to pose the question.
“Some poor unfortunate’s sitting room from the looks of it,” Essie said.
“Well, poor they are not, I would venture.” Cinderella cast a nervous glance round. Heavy brocaded drapes blocked out a good portion of the daylight but for a parted sliver. Heated coals smoldered in the hearth, and an empty brandy glass sat on a nearby table.
Cinderella had trouble believing Pricilla bore a single stint of remorse for her theft of the magic stick. In retrospect, it had mattered naught for Pricilla to steal the bread from Cinderella’s plate. She supposed that could not compare to a powerful silver baton.
Why, the two carried on as if Pricilla had not just whipped up a flock of butterflies scurrying round the palace, worthy of Essie’s batting eyes. Thousands of them: monarchs, tiger swallowtails, gossamers of every shape, size and color, all flitting about, covering every conceivable surface. Sending the servants into a horrific frenzy, with the betrothal ball just days away.
Cinderella had to admit, the situation would be outrageously comical, but for the consequences of their shenanigans. She, apparently, harbored enough terror for the three of them. “Do not touch a thing,” Cinderella hissed as Essie picked up the empty brandy glass and brought it to her nose. 
Unfortunately, Cinderella’s stark command managed to trigger the opposite effect. Startled, the glass slipped from Essie’s finders. Thankfully, the elaborate rug padded the fall, and the glass rolled to a slow stop.
Cinderella stilled, breath stuck in her throat. Her pulse flailed wildly against the open palm she laid across her neck. Pricilla and Essie froze too. Not for long, however.
“Watch this,” Pricilla whispered, grinning. She extended the silver bar towards the glass, now laying on its side. 
Cinderella watched, enthralled, in spite of her misgivings. The glass levitated from the floor and floated to mid-air, swaying precariously under Pricilla’s concentration. 
Under her carefully guided journey, the glass was near complete to the table, a spectacular sight—until an adjoining door to the chamber burst open. 
Pricilla and Essie’s gasps drowned Cinderella’s. Pricilla snatched her hand behind her back and the glass crashed against the edge. No graceful set down this time as it shattered in pieces when it hit the floor. 
“Good afternoon, ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Prince smirked from the doorjamb his arms folded across his chest.
Cinderella could not have moved had someone set her feet afire. He moved to the windows and whipped the drapes aside, flooding his features with late afternoon sun. The effect accentuated chiseled cheek bones and streaks of dirt over shirt open at the neck. His hair was plastered against his head in an unsightly, quite un-princely manner. He reeked of rich soil and fresh air. He was the most beautiful sight she’d ever laid eyes on. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Please tell me you had nothing to do with the mayhem thundering the halls?” Amusement colored his tone. 
Heat that flamed Cinderella’s cheeks. Dear heavens, they were sunk. If Pricilla was able to keep the silver baton hidden, mayhap they could escape any real dire consequences. It took every ounce of restraint Cinderella could muster to not drop to her knees and beg for mercy. 
She snuck a peek at Pricilla. But before Cinderella could screech out a warning, Pricilla whipped the cursed stick from behind and it slanted to the prince. 
Her Prince. How could she!
Rendered immobile, Cinderella’s life flashed before her eyes in a series of dark stone dungeons equipped with a stretching rack, or worse—The Wheel. Administered by an evil, mustached-man armed with a leather strap to snap across her bare back. Essie’s cries would bounce off the dank walls she’d be manacled to. Rodents and other vile critters would pick over their broken bones. The pictured, so vivid, had her gasping for air.
Riveted and unmoving, except for a furious blinking that had the drapes fluttering with the shift in current, showed Essie suffered a similar vision. 
Pricilla, however, was not to be deterred. Arm raised, she wore a vague smile on her lips. “My apologies, Sire,” she said softly. She flicked her wrist.
Prince—her wonderful, beloved, Prince—slumped to the floor like a lump of coal. MoBInterested in helping with the release tour for the Cinderella Treasure Trove tour (January 1-7, 2015)Sign up here.

***
Those who aspire to greatness
must first learn servanthood. All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Raging Sea: Reckonings . Please enter often, and good luck!

The Business of Writing Workshop Dec. 2015 Schedule Update #ASMSG #MFRWOrg

First please let me thank everyone who attended my Business of Writing workshop presented at ChessieCon in Baltimore on Black Friday! You all were amazing, you asked lots of great questions, and I hope you had as much fun with our session as I did. :)

If you're reading this and were in the audience that day, please drop a note in the comments section!

If you couldn't attend but you live in the mid-Atlantic area, upcoming confirmed presentations include:
MarsCon, Williamsburg, VA, January 15-17, 2016 (The Business of Writing: An Introduction)Farpoint, Baltimore, MD, February 12-15, 2016 (The Business of Writing: An Introduction... and possibly part 2, Diving Deeper, depending on how the final schedule shakes out)As more appearances become confirmed, I'll keep you updated!

***
Those who aspire to greatness
must first learn servanthood. All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Raging Sea: Reckonings . Please enter often, and good luck!

December decadence from The Dawnflier (Dec. 2015)

Decadence? In an author's newsletter??
Made you look! I hope you enjoy your holiday eye candy. :D
Those who aspire to greatness
must first learn servanthood.
Raging Sea: Reckonings
by Kim Iverson Headlee.

BREAKING NEWS: The paperback and hardcover editions of my Twain sequel, King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court , are now on sale. Don't miss your chance to get a copy of this very special book!

MORE BREAKING NEWS: The e-book edition of Raging Sea, part 1: Reckonings is now on sale! This is the sequel to Morning's Journey . Part 2 is undergoing revision and should be available soon, and part 3 is in development. 


EVEN MORE BREAKING NEWS: If you live near Virginia Tech, come join me at the Christmas craft bazaar at Prices Fork Elementary School, 9:00 a.m.–3:00 p.m., Dec. 5, Christiansburg, VA. I will be signing and selling copies of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court , and all my novels. 


As always, thank you very much for your support of my work,
and may all your days be merry and bright! :)
***

Today is the last day to enter this giveaway 
for an autographed copy of 
King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***
Those who aspire to greatness
must first learn servanthood. All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of Raging Sea: Reckonings . Please enter often, and good luck!

Alyse gets teased before God, King and everybody in Betrothal by @Jenna_Jaxon #MedievalMonday

The heart can choose, but can it also change?

Such is the central question posed by author Jenna Jaxon in Betrothal for today's Medieval Monday installment on The Maze. 

Synopsis:
Lady Alyse de Courcy has fallen in love with Lord Braeton, a nobleman in King Edward III’s court and a man to whom she has barely spoken. Fate, however, has decreed her betrothal to his best friend, Sir Geoffrey Longford—a handsome and imposing knight, yet hardly the man she wants to wed.

When Sir Geoffrey is bound in betrothal by his father, he could not have expected the beautiful stranger to win his heart the moment they meet. But Alyse’s infatuation with his friend casts doubt on whether she can ever return his regard and their wedding day is fast approaching…  Will he have time enough to win her love?

Excerpt:
Mere seconds before she learned her fate. She could scarce affect an indifferent pose before the court when inside every inch of her quivered with anticipation of the name. His name, pray God, on the king’s lips.

Thomas.

In her mind, she heard the word.

The king straightened, glanced at her then at the man by her side.

“What say you then, Sir Geoffrey? Does the lady not speak fair? I vow she will make you a proper wife and a dutiful one as well.”

Alyse turned, until that moment unaware that Geoffrey Longford stood beside her. Chills coursed down her body as the king’s words echoed in her mind. The sensation of falling backward assailed her, as though she rushed away from the tall man at her side even as his figure loomed larger and larger in her sight.

Not Lord Braeton.

Her numbed brain repeated the phrase, trying to comprehend that instead he would be her husband. Geoffrey Longford.

God have mercy on me, for by the look of him, this man will not.

Fearful, she cringed as her gaze climbed higher, over his chest, over his chin, finally resting on the dark blue eyes turned toward her.

Geoffrey returned her appraisal, his gaze sweeping her figure as a smile crept over his face. “Your Majesty.” He spoke to the king but his attention remained fixed on Alyse. “When my father told me of the betrothal contract before I left his home, I resolved to play the dutiful son. Now, however, I find I do not wish to act that role after all.” His eyes held hers as he paused.

Dear God, does he mean to renounce me here before the entire court?

Alyse stared at the man beside her, willing herself to remain upright, despite the waves of ice and fire alternating through her body.

“Now I find I would rather play the ardent lover.”

An amused murmur ran through the Hall at his words. Sir Geoffrey grinned, his eyes sparkling with humor and something more. Despite the uneven light, Alyse saw an unfathomable promise in their dark depths. She took a shaky breath and looked away.

“I affirm Lady Alyse to be all that could be hoped for in a wife. Please you and God, we shall make the match and with all good haste.”

His self-satisfied tone and the thought of his outrageous teasing touched a contrary nerve in Alyse. She pulled her wits together and beamed brilliantly at her newly-betrothed lord. “Take care, my lord, for the wise women say, ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure.’”

Sir Geoffrey raised a dark eyebrow while those around the banquet hall laughed. Heart pounding at her audacity, Alyse watched helplessly as he reached over and lifted her hand. “Such repentance could never be suffered too slowly, my lady, if ’twere your gentle hand that held mine through it.”

Laughter and applause washed over Alyse, who was struck absolutely dumb at the touch of his lips to her skin. Her heart pounded, and a strange roaring sounded in her ears; she wondered vaguely if she were about to faint.

Spellbound, she watched him, head bent over her now-smoldering hand, kissing it with an unhurried thoroughness that seemed to stop time. His lips scorched where they lingered, spreading a fire that consumed her body and mind. Had she the strength, she would have snatched her hand from his grasp to save herself from immolation. Other men had danced with her, held her hand, kissed it. They had never made her feel thus.

In a daze, she watched Geoffrey wrench his lips from her hand and stand, eyes widened as if amazed. His brows furrowed a moment then he spoke to the king. “May I ask, Your Majesty, when the banns will be read? I am sorely pressed to begin my repentance.”

BUY LINKS:
Amazon |

FREE ON THE FOLLOWING SITES:
Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | ARe |

***

Today is the last day to enter this giveaway 
for an autographed copy of 
King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***
All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court . Please enter often, and good luck!

Announcing RAGING SEA:Reckonings by @KimHeadlee #FREE on #KindleUnlimited!

Breaking News on The Maze,just in time for the holidays!
Those who aspire to greatness must first learn servanthood. Read Raging Sea: Reckonings, book 3.1 in The Dragon's Dove Chronicles!
Synopsis:

Stripped of kin, clan, country, and even his identity for having failed the most important woman in his life and her infant son, Angusel begins the arduous task of rebuilding his life and reclaiming his honor. The path he treads is fraught with uncomfortable revelations, unexpected reconciliations… and unavoidable reckonings. 

Excerpt:

THE FORMER ÀRD-OIGHRE h’Albainaich Chaledon was dead.

It didn’t matter that the Otherworld wasn’t at all like what he had been taught—there was no eternal battlefield where Lord Annaomh’s Army of the Blest fought Lord Annàm’s Samhraidhean minions, as far as he could tell. He was certain he was dead.

In fact, there was no light, no pain, no smells, no heat, no chill, no sensation of any kind save the most beautiful strains of harp music he’d ever heard. The images it evoked bespoke love in its many incarnations: the frenzied passion of the Belteine fire-dance, the soaring joy of two souls bonded by the act of love, a mother’s fierce protectiveness of her children, the lament of a bereaved spouse, a lullaby for a newborn, the rapture of a long-delayed reunion. None of the ancient tales mentioned music in the Otherworld, but he supposed the Old Ones could have whatever they liked. Comforted by the melody, which was by turns jaunty and lilting and mournful and jaunty again, he wasn’t about to start complaining to his sithichean hosts.

The final notes thrummed into silence. “Well done, Eileann,” spoke a nearby male voice in Caledonaiche. “I’ll wager the Old Ones themselves are pleased by your harping.” This won the murmured assent of other men, also in Caledonaiche.

“Thank you, Tavyn.” The female Caledonach voice sounded demure, as though unaccustomed to hearing such praise.

He was about to add his lauds to that of Tavyn’s when a wave of pain battered his head and chest. Apparently, the gods weren’t done tormenting him in this life. That much was obvious by the fact that he’d somehow ended up with his own people—his former people, he amended. It was also apparent that this group didn’t recognize him, or they never would have allowed him into their company.

Caledonach warriors didn’t associate with those who had been stripped of honor.

Dragging a hand across his eyes, though unwilling to open them, he felt the folds of a bandage swathing his brow. His hand dropped to his chest, and he found another bandage where his battle-tunic and undertunic should have been. He probed his chest near the left shoulder and winced. If the wound had been half a handspan further down, he would have received one-way passage to the Otherworld.

Where am I?

He must have uttered the question aloud, for the harpist, sounding much closer than before, answered, “Rest easy, brave one. You’re in the field hospital at Port Dhoo-Glass.”

The Caledonach ward, he realized with a groan.

Someone, mistaking that groan for an expression of physical discomfort, pressed a cool, damp cloth to his cheeks and neck. He had to admit it did feel good.

The woman continued, “You were found with a gash on your forehead and a spear in your chest. If you hadn’t moved when you did, the medics would have left you for dead. You’re very lucky to be here.”

Some luck. He wished the medics had left him in the company of the ravens.

Worse, his pain-fogged brain at last attached meaning to the names Eileann and Tavyn. They belonged to the daughter and son of Chieftainess Dynann of Clan Tarsuinn, his dead father’s clan. Tavyn, he recalled with chagrin, was commander of Second Turma, Manx Cohort, the unit that had charged the Sasunach line beside his. He turned his head onto one cheek and groaned again.

A hand slipped under his head to lift it a bit. Eyes still closed, he didn’t bother to resist. No sense in rushing the inevitable. They’d recognize him soon enough.

A cup touched his lips, brimming with a warm liquid redolent with the tempting scent of honey. His eyes flickered open.

He gazed past the cup’s rim into the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, save one. Lustrous black hair tumbled past her shoulders to sweep toward his chest. Graceful eyebrows accented brown eyes that glimmered with more compassion than he had ever hoped to see again. The light flush of her cheeks made him think of roses beneath a dusting of snow.

Her berry-red lips gave him the gift of a genuine smile.

He swallowed a mouthful of the liquid and grimaced at its bitter taste. It was a fitting reminder of the bitterness in his soul.

“Valerian.” Her smile took on an apologetic cast. “For your pain. Shall I add more honey for you?”

“Nay.” Was his voice really as harsh as it sounded? He couldn’t help it; his worst pain valerian couldn’t cure. He grasped the hand cradling his head and moved it so he could lie flat. To his surprise, he found it difficult to let her hand go. He did his best to return her smile, though it had been several moons since his facial muscles had moved in that direction. “Thank you, my lady.” For more things than just the drink, but of course he couldn’t tell her that.

Nodding, she disengaged her hand and rose, leaving the cup on the stool beside his cot. As though in afterthought, she bent to swab his brow again with the damp cloth. “I’ll be staying at the fortress until my brother is well enough to travel. Send for me if you need anything,” she whispered, doubtless unaware that her smile—and the kindness that was its source—was causing him more anguish than a hundred spear thrusts. “My name is Eileann.”

He knew; gods, how he knew. If he had never heard her speak, he’d have known from the blue woad Tarsuinn falcon tattoo spread-winged and screeching across her right forearm, symbol of her status as their àrd-banoigin. Chieftainess Dynann would retain clan leadership for as long as she remained fit for the task, but now that her daughter was of childbearing age, the responsibility for continuing the line lay with Eileann. By Caledonach law, Eileann was free to choose her consort. That her left arm bore no tattoo meant she hadn’t yet exercised that choice.

Maybe he could… nay; he was forgetting himself. Or rather, what he had become.

Eileann nic Dynann probably had suitors lined up from one shore of Caledon to the other. Even if she didn’t, the likelihood of her choosing an outcast was less than the sun changing its course at zenith to set in the east. Best to put her out of his mind. Best for him—and for her.

As she glided by the other cots to reach her brother’s side and took up her harp to play another tune, he found he could no sooner forget her than forget the shameful events of his past that prevented him from ever trying to woo her.

This groan he made sure to muffle with the pillow.

Buy Link: Amazon Kindle Worldwide
***

Enter this giveaway for an autographed copy of
King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***
All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court . Please enter often, and good luck!

Spotlight: How to Reach Your Writing Goals Like a Pro by @MCSimonWrites #amwriting

 
Book DetailsTitle: How To Reach Your Writing Goals Like A Pro: A Step by Step Guide to becoming a Self-Published Author [even Mark Twain talked about]Series: How To Master Your Life (Book 2)Author: M.C. SimonGenre: Non-Fiction, Self-HelpFormat: Paperback and KindleLength: 128 pagesPublication Date: November 18, 2015Publisher: IML PublishingKindle Price: $6.99Paperback Price: $14.99 
Synopsis
HOW TO REACH YOUR WRITING GOALS LIKE A PRO is your Step by Step Guide for becoming a Self-Published Author.
This book provides all the proven steps that you need to plan your success and see your writing goals fulfilled. It will not only help with your writing goals but if you adapt the procedures described within this book to all your life goals, you will soon become a Master of your own life.
HOW TO REACH YOUR WRITING GOALS LIKE A PROaddresses those who feel that writing is their calling but still don't have the confidence to do it.shows you how to find your answers to: who, what, when, why, and how?gives you the boost to overcome all your worries and finally start what should have already been started.proves to you that the road you wish to step onto is not as hard as you may think, or as difficult as others have convinced you of being.shows you how by following a good plan, you will finally see your book published from ground zero. Meanwhile, you will learn to enjoy each accomplished phase. And most of all... you will learn to relax while you are working for your goals. 
ExcerptChapter 2: Step 1 - Declutter Your MindOK. Let’s get started!No matter what your goal is, no matter how easy or hard you may think it is to attain, the first step that you must take is to declutter your mind.
One of the reasons for which you still haven’t reached your writing goals, is the fact that all of what you’ve learned and heard about publishing your book or about becoming a successful writer, were implemented ideas that are now blocking their fulfillment inside you.

“I have spent most of my time worrying about things that have never happened.” ~ Mark Twain. 
For this reason, it’s a great decision to first unlearn what you have learned.
Why do you need to do this? Let me briefly explain.
During our life, we’ve been brainwashed to think that certain goals are impossible to attain. I am telling you that this is one of the biggest lies that we encounter in our lives.
If you are serious about your dreams, if you really wish with all your heart to materialize your dreams, nothing… and I mean nothing can stand in your way. All you have to do is to get rid of all the garbage that was inoculated in your beliefs. Do it and don’t lose time finding out who put it in your mind, why this was done, and most of all don’t blame the ones who taught you those things. They were themselves taught by others and maybe they were well intentioned when they did it. It could have just been because they thought that, that was the ultimate truth. No matter what, this is not your problem but theirs. They were wrong, and you just started on the road to prove it to the whole world. [Read more] 
Buy LinksAmazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | Amazon IN | Amazon DE | Amazon FR | Amazon ES | Amazon BR | Amazon NL | Amazon MX | Smashwords
 
About the Author
Writer, translator, engineer, researcher, project manager, blogger, eternal student... these are only a few words to describe M.C. Simon.
In a recent interview she confessed:
"I am not only M.C. Simon, the writer whose goal is to rebuild in people the trust in their own forces and in the incredible powers that they received at birth; powers that, maybe they have forgotten about somewhere inside the depth of their being.
I AM all what "I am not only", and much more! I AM who I AM. And in this form, I follow my Path to consciously touch The Absolute... The ONE who's Omnipotent, Omniscient and Omnipresent.
The same as YOU and like any other soul that accepted in these times, the challenge to experience life inside a human body, on this wonderful planet we call Earth." 
Contact The AuthorAmazon Author Page
MCSimonWrites Blog
WritersPayItForward Website
Facebook Fan Page
Twitter
GooglePlus
LinkedIn

***

Enter this giveaway for an autographed copy of
King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***
All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court . Please enter often, and good luck!

Celebrate #BlackFriday with my Business of Writing workshop @ChessieCon in Baltimore!

Once you've had your fill of stuffing and shopping, and if you happen to live in the metro Baltimore/DC corridor, flap on over to the Radisson North Baltimore Hotel (Timonium, MD) to attend ChessieCon 2015! 


Don't delay if you plan to attend my Business of Writing workshop, however—it's scheduled at 4:15 p.m. Friday as one of the first programming events of the con. 

Topics I plan to present include: 
Whether or not an author should incorporate.ISBNs: what, why, and how many?Imprints demystified.The Main Event: Createspace vs. IngramSpark!And I have a special treat for convention goers: the paperback edition of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court is now available. Mention this blog post for a 50% discount!

All panels and events for which I'm scheduled:
Friday, November 274:15 p.m.–5:15 p.m. The Business of Writing workshop8:00 p.m.–9:00 p.m. Women in Camelot panel9:45 p.m.–10:15 p.m. Reading from King Arthur's Sister in Washington's CourtSaturday, November 283:00 p.m.–4:00 p.m. KaffeeKlatch with Kim Headlee5:30 p.m.–6:30 p.m. Don't Be That Guy panel 6:45 p.m.–8:00 p.m. Group book / art / CD signing sessionSunday, November 2910:00 a.m.–11:00 a.m. E-publishing and Small Presses panel12:30 p.m.–1:30 p.m. A Princess with a Sword is still a Princess panel6:00 p.m.–midnight??? Dead Dogfish Party in the ConsuiteI hope everyone enjoys a safe and happy Thanksgiving weekend!
***

Enter this giveaway for an autographed copy of
King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***
All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court . Please enter often, and good luck!

The nun coldcocks the bastard mercenary in Silverhawk by @BarbaraBettis #MedievalMonday

Today's Main Event on The Maze: 

Big and bold Sir Giles takes on slight and saucy Lady Emelin from Silverhawk by Barbara Bettis!

Synopsis:
He’s everything a proper lady should never want; she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have.

Sir Giles has come to England to kill his father, who seduced and betrayed his mother. First, however, he’ll seek sweet revenge—kidnap the old lord’s new betrothed. But when Giles uncovers a plot against King Richard, he faces a dilemma: take the lady or track the traitors. What’s a good mercenary to do? Both, of course.

Lady Emelin has had enough. Abandoned in a convent by her brother, she finally has a chance for home and family. Yet now she’s been abducted. Her kidnapper may be the image of her dream knight, but she won’t allow him to spoil this betrothal. Her only solution: escape. Rescuing the intrepid lady—while hunting traitors—is a challenge Giles couldn’t anticipate.  But the greatest challenge to Giles and Emelin is the fire blazing between them. For he’s everything a proper lady should never want, and she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have.

Excerpt:
(Sir Giles has been rescued from outlaws by Lady Emelin’s escort of soldiers and she’s insisted that she take the unconscious knight to her betrothed’s castle for treatment.)

Swollen eyelids, a puffy cheek, and bloody scrapes couldn’t hide the knight’s handsome features. Waves of midnight hair fell across his wide forehead to brush one side of his square, stubble-darkened jaw. Grit clustered on the high bridge of his nose. What shame such a strong, rugged man should be cut down. Her pulse fluttered, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Ashamed of such reaction, she squeezed shut her eyes.

Would Stephen have been so handsome, had he lived through the crusade? She hardly recalled what her youthful first betrothed looked like when he left, a hopeful squire at nineteen, to follow his foster father on King Richard’s journey. If only he’d returned from Outremer, she’d be wed now, with the family she craved.

She sighed, reached for her patient’s cheek—and found herself staring into the palest gray eyes she had ever seen. His mouth moved, and she leaned forward.

“What is it?” she murmured.

“Before…I…die…” came the hoarse whisper.

“Yes? What would you like before you die?” If it were in her power, she would provide the poor man with his wish. Drink? Food?

A strong hand gripped the back of her head, pulled her forward. That close, she saw his eyes weren’t flat gray, but clear, layered like a winter pond winking with ice. They were silver.

“To…kiss…a nun,” came the outrageous reply before his lips met hers.

The brush of his warm mouth robbed her breath for an instant. Then she snapped back with a gasp. And, with in-born reflex, slapped him. His head jerked, his eyes closed, and he lay motionless.

“Oh, Sweet Mary,” Emelin whispered, “I’ve killed him.” Leaning close, she saw his narrow, beautifully molded lips relax. His mouth curved at the corner.

At least he died with a smile on his face.

Buy Link: Amazon


***

Enter this giveaway for an autographed copy of
King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***
All this month, you are invited to...
— Follow Kim on Twitter
— Follow Kim on Pinterest
— Subscribe to Kim's YouTube channel
— Leave a comment on any page of The Maze, especially if you have done the Twitter, Pinterest, and/or YouTube follow
...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court . Please enter often, and good luck!