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Sunday, 20 April 2014

Blog Tour: The Queen of Swords by Nina Mason





When Graham Logan, a Scottish earl turned vampire by a dark wizard’s curse, draws the Queen of Swords, he knows he’s about to meet the love of his life. For the third time. But surrendering his heart will mean risking her life…or making her what he is. Neither of which his morals will permit him to do. Graham, who believes he lost his soul to the curse, rages at God: Why give her back only to take her again?



Cat Fingal, the third incarnation of Graham’s twin flame, won’t let him escape so easily. As soon as they meet, she feels she knows him and begins having past-life flashbacks. A white witch, she casts a spell to summon him, wanting answers and to fill the void she’s felt all her life.
Graham has other problems, too. Like the seductress who wants him for herself and the dark wizard who cursed him and killed his beloved the first two times.

Will he find a way to save her this time around? Or will she save him?

Kindle | Paperback



12th May. Visited Caitriona tonight for the first time since becoming a monster. She slept, unaware of my presence, & for a time, I was content simply to observe. As the hours passed, I began to wonder what might happen if she awoke to find me in her room. Would she think me a wraith? Would she think it a dream? Desiring to know, & to get closer, I sat down on the corner of the bed, alert for any stirrings. Seeing none, I crawled up the bed until I reached her side. Still she did not stir. Ever so carefully, I set my head upon the pillow next to hers. She slept on. Drinking in her scent, I felt contentment for the first time since fate & Fitzgerald tore us apart. I closed my eyes & must have drifted off, because next I knew, her arm fell across my chest. Startled awake, I found her blinking at me in disbelief.

I lay there, still as death, waiting for her to react. Her hand moved up my chest to my face. She dragged her fingers across my jaw, pressed them against my lips, touched the end of my nose, my eyebrows, my forehead. As she combed back my hair, she whispered: “This must be a dream. But you feel so real, so alive. I don’t ken how such a thing is possible; nor do I care. I only pray I shall never awaken.”

I kept still. I could hear her heartbeat, smell her blood, but her blood was not what I craved. She set her head on my chest & started to sob.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked, soft & low.

“Aye.”

She raised herself up, came over me & pressed her mouth against mine.

“Can we make love in my dream?”

“Aye.”

When it was over, I collapsed beside her, feeling so elated, so profoundly moved, I very nearly wept.

She set her head against my chest. “Will you promise me something?”

“Anything, m’aingael.”

“Always come to me like this in my dreams.”



Nina Mason is a hopeful romantic with strong affinities for history, mythology, and the metaphysical. She strives to write the same kind of books she loves to read: those that entertain, edify, educate, and enlighten. Three of her books will be published in 2014: The Queen of Swords, an urban fantasy/paranormal romance; The Knight of Wands, book one in the Knights of Avalon Series; and The Tin Man, a political thriller about the dangers posed by media monopolies.  She is currently at work on Book Two of the Knights of Avalon series and is itching to get back to a book she started a while back about a merman who falls for an oil company spokeswoman after a phantom tanker capsizes on the coast of the Hebrides islands. When not writing, Nina works as a communications consultant, doll maker, and home stager. Born and raised in Southern California, she now lives in Woodstock, Georgia, with her husband, teenage daughter, two rescue cats, and a Westie named Robert.

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Sunday, 6 April 2014

Sneaky peek! To Dream of a Highlander

I'm sharing a snippet from my upcoming book, To Dream of a Highlander which releases on the 11th April. Squeeeee!

She needed to escape. But how? The keep was surrounded, the fighting fierce. She risked death by stepping outside the upper chambers. Her father had told her to remain inside. Catriona swallowed the knot in her throat. She’d heard enough tales of Norse barbarity. Rapes, pillaging. Was this what they were to expect? Would she die this day?
With a final glance around the room, she made her decision. She would not die here, cowering and quivering, with the acrid scent of death in her nostrils as night fell around them. Hurrying to the door, she twisted the handle, grimacing as the iron squeaked. She peered through the small gap. A whistle of air. The sounds of dying men and crumbling masonry. But no enemy.
Skirts in hand, she scurried along the corridor and followed the spiral steps down to the hall. No one paid any heed to her but Catriona saw everything she needed to. The men-at-arms had retreated into the castle and were busy shoring up the defences of the hall. Laird Malcolm, her father, directed the men to place strong wooden beams across the entrance.
Catriona shook her head. For all the good it would do them. Those doors were not strong enough to hold back a horde of Norsemen—or Vikings as the men referred to them. Slippers crunching across the rushes, she made her way to the kitchen stairs and descended. A few men and women cowered behind the large oak table.
“Lady Catriona,” the cook hissed, standing and weighing a cooking knife in his hand. “Come, lass, and hide.”
“Nay, I’ll no’ stay here. The enemy will break through at any moment.”
The big ruddy man snorted. “And where shall ye go, wee Catriona? Ye’ll no’ survive out there.” He motioned with his knife out of the small rear door.
“I’ll seek shelter with the villagers.”
“If ye can even reach them. Ye’ll be spotted by a Viking for sure. Dinnae be foolish. A lass like ye is a fine prize for a lusty Viking.”
She stiffened at this, aware her looks had brought her much unwanted attention over the years. Since she had come of age many men had tried to sway her into bed. While her sister relished the attention, she did not. She would not give herself up so readily to a Norseman.
“Pray come with me,” she implored as crashing sounded above and several women released sounds of distress.
“Nay. ‘Tis guaranteed death to go out there. Here, we stand a chance.”
 Catriona suppressed a frustrated curse. Did they not see it was better to at least try? Mayhap they would be well, she told herself as she spun away.
“Good luck to ye, lass,” Cook murmured behind her.
Pressing through the door, she blew out a heavy breath. She refused to cower and await death. The men-at-arms had been talking of what might happen should the Norse break through—some of them cruelly teasing her with tales. A few whom she had declined took particular delight in describing how a Viking planned to take his pleasure with her.
Catriona closed the door and flattened her back against it, willing her imaginings away. Hopefully the servants would remain unharmed but a lass like herself… she'd had troubles enough over her years. She would not stay to discover if the tales were true.
Her father would be furious to find her gone, but she cared little what he thought. He only wanted her to continue their ruse. The household knew of their plan and she had been playing at being Lady Katelyn for any visitors to Bute since her sister’s death, while they waited for word from Katelyn’s betrothed. Until the Norse landed on their shores, that was.
Breath held, the clatter of swords and footsteps grew close. The stickiness on her palms increased and she smoothed them over her gown. Her chest constricted. Someone approached down the narrow corridor leading out of the kitchen and to the rear of the keep. Her escape was blocked. 
She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a cry. Shouts sent a shiver through her, the fear clawing up her throat making it almost impossible to breathe. Shadows slithered across the walls, distorted by the few lit torches. How had the Norsemen found the secret passage? Should she go back into the kitchen? Nay, if she did, she would lead them directly to the rest of the household. Her only choice was to confront the invaders.
Trembling, she edged away from the door and followed the curve of the passageway. It seemed to Catriona that a wild, brawling mass of limbs and armour had plunged into the small space. She no longer had trouble breathing but her body failed her—left her frozen. She stood as still as prey beneath a hawk while the stench of sweat and blood assaulted her.
His foreign appearance, the long hair and unusual clothing startled her and a hand clenched around her arm, snapping her out of her daze. A squeak escaped her, a noise that should have been a scream should her throat have cooperated. Body shaking, she dragged her gaze fearfully up to meet the cold blue of the Norseman’s eyes. Was it horror playing with her mind or was he truly the size of a giant?
He thrust her against the wall, causing her head to crack against the stone while he muttered something in his foreign tongue. Catriona noted the blood on his hands had transferred to her gown. The blood of the soldiers of Bute. How bad had the slaughter been?
His blood slickened hand travelled up to her face to curl around her cheek. A cry threatened to spill from her mouth but she held it at bay. She failed to supress her shudder as his rancid breath washed over her. Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze to his. Mayhap if she begged…? But, nay, the frigidness still lingered in his eyes. She only hoped he ravished her and left her be. She steeled her resolve. The sea of nausea in her stomach ebbed.
“Do what ye will,” she whispered, closing her eyes. 


Saturday, 5 April 2014

A REAL Day in the Life of an Author or Why did I waste a whole day on Facebook?

I once wrote a post like this for a guest spot I believe. A Day in the Life of... It was all LIES. I believe I even tried to put across that I actually had a life outside of writing, which of course, I don't, but I didn't want to sound so sad.

Here is how my day truly goes:

5.55am Alarm goes off. Lie there for 5 minutes and fight dog for bed space while scrolling through Facebook. Already feel inadequate when I see someone releasing their sixth book of the year.



6.00am Deal with animals. Turn on laptop. Bash out 1000 words while still half asleep. This will be the best work of the day.


6.30am Make kids and hubby's lunches. Tackle one chore for the day while there's no interruptions. Wake up family. Cups of tea all round.

7.00am Get dressed, try to look like a respectable member of society. Cajole children into getting dressed. Fail to get hubby out of bed. Run around like a madwoman trying to squeeze three days of chores into one morning as can't function in messy house.

8.25am Usher kids and dog out door having just about fed and dressed them and coaxed husband out of bed.

9.00am Have some vague kind of breakfast--usually some horrible 'greens' drink which I'm secretly convinced keeps my muse going. Bash out another 1k.



10.00 am Have a nap.

11.30 am. Wake up from nap and ponder story. Realise the stuff I wrote at 9.00am was terrible. Go into panic. Change plot in head. Start to make lunch with a heavy heart, dreading opening the laptop again and seeing what rubbish I wrote.

12.00 pm Eat lunch, check emails. Answer emails, send off review copies, post on Facebook, answer more emails. Create a banner for new release. Create a teaser for new release. Put together a media kit for new release. Book ads for new release. Consider re-opening Twitter account then realise it's pointless and boring and I have too many things on my plate already.

1.00pm See horrible review. Suffer from crippling doubt and decide to give up writing forever. Message friends for comfort. Receive comfort but are convinced they're only saying it to be nice and they think you're crap too. Have discussion about what terrible writers we are before talking ourselves out of it. Wonder how some authors never seem fazed by anything.


2.00pm Write some stuff at a snail's pace. Smack head against table. Curse characters for not doing what I want. Consider another career. Browse Facebook and suffer from more doubt when fellow author is at number one for whatever category. What am I doing wrong? It must be because I'm crap.


3.00pm Do more chores because somehow the house got messy even though I was either sleeping, Facebooking or writing.

4.00pm Walk dog and collect children. Feed them, feed animals, do homework. More admin stuff. Blog posts to write. Emails to answer. Website to update.

5.00 pm Start cooking dinner. Clean up yet more mess and do yet more chores.

More Facebook. Suffer crippling jealously when I see a friend at a cool convention I'll never go to because a) The general public aren't ready for me and b) I can't afford to fly to the US where all the cool stuff happens.

6.00 pm Burn dinner after inspiration finally takes hold and I frantically bash out whatever I can.

7.00 pm Clear up burnt dinner. Put kids to bed. Have a bath. Vaguely acknowledge husband. Look at cats on Facebook and beta read story for friend while worrying I'll seem too harsh. Read a Buzz feed post about authors, nod along and swear I'll be more productive from now on. (Insert self-doubt/guilt here)

9.00 pm Husband starts getting annoyed and making growling sounds from the couch. Why can't my work day end at 5.00 pm like normal people? he asks. Reluctantly leave WIP and try to make an effort to behave like a normal human being whose work day has ended.

11.00pm Bed. Lie in bed for an hour or two plotting story or going through all the things I didn't achieve. Mentally pen all the emails I didn't write.

2.00am Amazing idea for story! Must write it down!!!



Sunday, 30 March 2014

Eden's Fire Giveaway!

Eden's Fire is up for pre-order and I'm celebrating by giving away this amber jewelry set--which I think goes perfectly with the cover! Check it out and enter below!

Pre-order Eden's Fire
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Saturday, 29 March 2014

Signed Paperback Giveaway!

I'm giving away a signed paperback of my latest release Not Another Soldier! Enter below. You can also gain an extra entry by stopping by my Facebook page!


Not Another Soldier is also available in ebook on Amazon

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Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Blog Tour Stop: Desire by B.L. Wilde


 

 
 

Title – Desire  

Series – The Seductors Series  

Author – B.L. Wilde  

Genre – Erotica Romance  

Publication Date – 6th December 2013  

Length (Pages/# Words) - 62K  

Publisher – Author  

Cover Artist – Jo Matthews

 


Desire Full cover new 

 
 

Jade has worked as a Seductor in a secret organization for five years now. Her main job? To earn the trust of her targets and secure the object or information her company was hired to steal—by any means necessary. She’s damn good at it, too.

With five years left on her contract, she is handed an assignment that turns her world upside down.

Oliver Kirkham is the attractive, young CEO of Kirkham Industries, a weapons manufacturing company, and is currently in possession of some very important blueprints—blueprints that could change the way war, as we know it, works. He’s extremely focused and doesn't have time to date, at least until he comes to the rescue of a shy but very alluring Jade Gibbs.

What happens when one night of passion turns into more? Will Jade allow her feelings for Oliver to get in the way of her mission? Or will she do what she was hired to do and secure the steal?



 




TOUR-EXCERPT

Mmm…I was having the most wonderful dream—one that seemed so real. I could feel myself squirming in my sleep from the vividness of soft lips making their way down my ribs. It wasn’t until I felt my legs being moved apart that I realized where I was. Oh, my! Oliver was clearly a man of his word.
I opened my eyes the moment I felt his fingers slip into my yearning body.
“Morning, Jade,” he smirked as he hovered over me.
“You weren’t joking last night about picking up where we left off in the morning, were you?” I giggled. He answered me with a soft kiss, which I returned as he set a slow pace with his fingers.
I’d never really been one for morning sex, because well…truthfully, it wasn’t very often that I stayed the entire night. I had to admit, though, that I was looking forward to a few more mornings like this with Oliver.
“I never joke about this.” Oliver’s voice a few moments later was like a trigger that set my orgasm into motion. Before I knew what happening, I was falling hard and fast. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of watching you come undone, Jade,” he smiled once I’d regained myself. As my eyes wandered down his exquisite body, I noticed that he’d already put a condom on.
“We’ve only known each other for two days. I can’t believe how well you know my body already.”
“I’ve never felt this connection with anyone before.” Oliver shifted above me and we both groaned as his length pushed against my heated center. “It’s going to be hard for me to leave you today. I’m already used to having you around.”
“I hope we can meet again soon,” I panted, feeling Oliver slowly push deep inside me.
“As soon as I’m free, I’ll fly out to you. It will be easier for me to come to you first, ” he strained. It only took a second to let go, and when I did, I became a slave to his touches.
“You’re eating breakfast?” he questioned over the table a few hours later. I could now happily admit that I loved morning sex! It was clearly the best way to start any day.
“Well, it is the most important meal of the day,” I grinned, taking a bite of my toast. “Not to mention, I think I need the energy after my early morning wake-up call.”
“I’m impressed,” Oliver chuckled, continuing to read his newspaper.
“Are you nervous about your meeting this morning?” I asked, pouring myself some more coffee.
“No. I’m used to these kinds of meetings.” He didn’t even look up from the article in front of him as he spoke.
“Have you met many world leaders in the past?”
“I’ve met most of them, actually.” His tone was a little arrogant as he looked up to smirk at me. Oh, Oliver… You have no idea, but I already know every little detail about you.
“You’ve met most of them?” I gawked with my mouth hanging open. Yeah, I had the act down to a fine art. “Jesus, Oliver, if these are the people you socialize with, what the hell are you doing with me?”
“It’s my job, Jade. I don’t choose to socialize with them. Trust me, I’d much rather spend the rest of the day with you.” He had a gleam in his eyes as he spoke, and I only needed one guess as to what was crossing his mind at that moment. I decided to play with him a bit.
“Is everything about sex with you?” I asked innocently, running my hands through my hair and tilting my head slightly to expose more of my neck to him. I was wearing one of his shirts, and only a few buttons were buttoned.
“What do you mean by that?” By his tone, I thought I might have offended him.
“I was just wondering if that’s what this is.” I started fidgeting with my napkin, intently focused on the task instead of on Oliver. Innocent girls avoided eye contact when it was a conversation that mattered to them, and I needed to know how far I’d gotten with him this weekend. I only had six months to secure the blueprints, and that wasn’t very long if I didn’t get to see him every week.
“Jade, I really have no idea. All I know is that I am deeply attracted to you. Isn’t that enough for now?” I looked up into his burning, dark eyes. Christ, a woman could drown in pure desire from those scorching orbs.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop with the heavy,” I conceded, looking at my watch. “What time are you leaving?”
“In about ten minutes.” He sighed deeply, raking his eyes over me. “I don’t even have time to take you again.”
I choked a little on my coffee, nearly spitting it across the table. “Wasn’t the five times earlier enough?” Oh, this guy had stamina; I had to give him that. Oliver would be like my dream man if I actually had the option to date. Why did he have to be my target? Why couldn’t I have met him after my contract ended?
“No,” he smoldered, getting up from his chair. He cannot be serious!
“You’re meeting the Prime Minister, remember?” I pointed out as he pulled me out of my chair and to my feet. “I’m pretty sure he’s not the kind of guy who likes tardiness.”
“I’ll be counting each day until I can see you again,” Oliver said with a sigh as he ran his nose down my neck. I couldn’t help but arch up toward him as his hand gripped my ass firmly. “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you when that happens, Jade. Maybe it’s a good thing we’ll be apart for a few weeks.”
“You mean there’s more?”
I groaned as his left hand moved to palm my breasts over his shirt.
“I haven’t even started with you yet, Beautiful,” he murmured huskily before his lips crashed against mine.
I was breathless when we finally broke apart. “You’ll call me as soon as you arrive home, won’t you?” I pleaded, running my hands over the back collar of his shirt.
“Yes,” Oliver smiled, caressing my face softly. “Okay, now I really need to leave.” He seemed honestly troubled by that, as if he didn’t want to go. Wow, I never thought it would be this easy. Then again, I did still have the task of finding out which property stored his secure hard drive. That wasn’t going to be easy.
“Enjoy your meeting,” I grinned, “and tell the Prime Minister I said ‘Hi.’” Oliver chuckled as he kissed me softly, his hands lingering on my face before he pulled away.
“I’m really glad I met you, Jade Gibbs. I will see you very soon.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I blushed, watching his eyes roam over me one last time before he turned to leave.
“You’re welcome to get ready here. Just let reception know once you’ve checked out,” he called over his shoulder, picking up his briefcase. His luggage had already been taken down earlier when the breakfast cart had been delivered.
“Okay, thank you,” I replied, smiling weakly.
“I’ll call you every day if you want me to.” Oliver appeared to be stalling, and I was pretty sure I knew why. Jade, you have well and truly hooked him.
“Only if you have the time,” I answered, playing with my hands.
“I’ll make the time.” His voice was firm as he took one last look at me and then finally left.
Wow, this mission was going effortlessly so far.







 

 
AUTHOR BIO  
B.L. Wilde is a British author obsessed with many things, including heated love stories. Fully supported by her husband, she can often be found at her desk working on her next project.

Her journey into the world of erotica began when she started writing online stories over three years ago, and she hasn't looked back since.



 




Giveaway


PRIZES 1 signed paperback of Desire (US Only) 

3 ebook copies of Desire (International)

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Thursday, 20 March 2014

Banished Love by Ramona Flightner



Please welcome Ramona to my blog today as she shares her book with us. Be sure to comment to be in with a chance of winning a $50 GC!


Free-Spirited…

Clarissa Sullivan dreams for more from life than sipping tepid tea in stifling parlors in Victorian Boston. She defies her family’s wishes, continuing to teach poor immigrant children in Boston’s West End, finding a much-needed purpose to her life.

Radical…

As a suffragette, Clarissa is considered a firebrand radical no man would desire. For why should women want the vote when men have sheltered women from the distasteful aspects of politics and law?

Determined…

When love blossoms between Clarissa and Gabriel McLeod, a struggling cabinetmaker, her family objects. Clarissa’s love and determination will be tested as she faces class prejudices, manipulative family members and social convention in order to live the life she desires with the man she loves.

Will she succeed? Or will she yield to expectations?

BANISHED LOVE follows Clarissa Sullivan on her journey of self-discovery as she learns what she cannot live without.

Purchase from Amazon.




“Colin, anything in that paper interesting enough to share? You read it like you are hoping to find some long-lost treasure,” Lucas cajoled.


“Hmm…no, nothing uplifting like that song. Just more tales of death and woe around the world. The Boxers are getting more powerful and dangerous.” Colin sighed, setting aside the Boston Evening Transcript.


“And why should we care about a bunch of pugilists?” Mrs. Smythe demanded, her thin face even longer with her disapproval.


I giggled; Lucas snorted before acting as though he were sneezing to hide his amusement, but Colin stared at Mrs. Smythe with frank fascination.


“Do you read the papers, Mrs. Sm…Sullivan? Talk with your friends?” At her cold stare, he continued. “The Boxers are discontented Chinese on the verge of rebellion who are indiscriminately killing Christians in China. Including American Christians,” Colin said helpfully. “I thought it was the topic of conversation these days.” He glanced toward Lucas and me, and we both nodded our agreement.


“A genteel woman,” Mrs. Smythe began, with a sniff in my direction to indicate I must be lacking in that regard, “would not know of such vulgar goings-on halfway around the world with a bunch of savages, my dear Colin. I do read the papers but only the parts that pertain to my world and me. The parts about running a good home, a good kitchen. About decoration.” With this, she waved her hand around the room to indicate its frightful state. “Decorum.” Yet another censorious glare was sent in my direction. “These are the important matters of my life,” she stated with one more sniff, showing her displeasure at the topic.


Ramona Flightner is a native of Missoula, Montana. After graduating from Tufts University with a B.A. in Spanish, she earned a Masters degree in Spanish Literature from the University of Montana. Her Master’s thesis, Chilean Testimonial Literature: the collective suffering of a people, highlighted her continued interest in the stories of those who were at risk of being forgotten or silenced.
           
She studied nursing at the University of Pennsylvania and graduated with a Master’s in Nursing as a Family Nurse Practitioner. She has worked for ten years as a family nurse practitioner providing care to the poor and under insured at two community health centers, first in Wilmington, Delaware and now in Boston, Massachusetts.
           
An avid reader, she began writing three years ago. She enjoys the demands of research and relishes the small discoveries that give historical detail to her books.
           
Ramona is an avid flyfisher and hiker who enjoys nothing better than spending a day on a remote Montana river, far from a city. She enjoys research, travel, storytelling, learning about new cultures and discovering new ways of looking at the world. Though she resides in Boston, Massachusetts, Ramona remains a Montanan at heart.
          
Her dreams are to see the plains of East Africa, marvel at the wonder of Petra in Jordan, soak in the seas of the South Pacific, and to continue to spend as much time as possible with her family.
           
Banished Love is her first novel and is the first in the forthcoming Banished Saga.
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