WeWriWa: Hail to the King, Baby! REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT

A decade ago, I envisioned a hero, a larger than life, mysterious, dangerous, silently predatory dark hero leashed by loyalty to the mobster who rescued him when he was a child, then shook up his world with the intrusion of two life-altering events – his infatuation with the fierce NOPD detective determined to arrest him and the sudden awareness that he was not the only one of his kind. From deadly shadows to sudden limelight, Max Savoie became, through the first four books of my “By Moonlight” series, the Shifter King.
Nine books later, Max was still the hero my readers wanted, petitioning me to bring him back. The marketer in me considered another angle to both appease my fans and to coax new readers who’d be leery of jumping so deeply into a series filled with intertwining plot lines. The set up was already there without me knowing it. The leader of the New Orleans shapeshifter clan had been taken by their enemies and put through grueling experiments that blocked his memories of who he was. Time to let him . . . and new readers rediscover who Max Savoie really was in this first self-pubbed book, a clever but tortuous path for the heroine to take in this excerpt from REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT.
She wanted Max, not this stranger wearing her lover’s face who, wrapped in his comforting scent, enticed with a touch both tempting and terrifying. It felt wrong, like the worst sort of betrayal to want what he offered. She wanted her Max, the sly, aggravating mob henchman who’d tangled around her investigations then about her heart, taming her objections with maddening patience and persistence. It was that Max she needed in her life, in her arms, in her bed, sharing the subtle innuendos, the dramatic dangers, the heart-pumping passions that bound them as friends, companions and mates. Her one and only, her forever love who’d defended her, depended upon her, who completed her in every way possible.
This was not him.
He might look the same, smell the same, sound the same but the deep, unique traits that had claimed her guarded heart and battered soul were missing, stolen not just from him, but from her as well. To accept this hollow substitute would be giving up on all they’d created between them. She wasn’t ready to let go of that past they’d planned to build a future upon.
The man in her living room was an enemy who’d locked the one she loved away in a prison of forgotten dreams, and it was time to smash down those doors to let the real Max free.
Next week, I’ll give Charlotte Caissie equal time as the other half of this romantic duo. Until then, enjoy a teasing glimpse of REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT . . .
Preview Book 9




Finally, a week without driving peril here in Michigan. Hope you all are staying warm and at the keyboard. Happy belated Valentine’s Day and Happy Writing, fellow Warriors!

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.
Spread the word, share the love, warriors - Hashtag #8sunday.
Published on February 16, 2019 21:01
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