Killarney Sheffield and “Through Gypsy Eyes”

Hi Susana! I’m so pleased to be visiting your parlour today.

I’m Killarney Sheffield, the author of Through Gypsy Eyes, released from Crimson Romance on April 15, 2013. Through Gypsy Eyes is my eighth published novel.

Giveaway!

I would be delighted to offer my newest re-release Stand & Deliver Your Love from BooksWeLove to one lucky commenter.

Many people have asked me just how I came up with the idea of a blind heroine and a guide animal in the form of a seeing eye pony named Jester. Like many authors I sometimes struggle with “showing” vs “telling” and developing the sensory dimensions in a novel. I started writing a short piece from a blind woman’s point of view. Obviously my character could not see the world around her but had to interpret it through touch, taste, smell and the sounds around her. It is a wonderful exercise that really helped me connect with Delilah.

The story just took off from there and refused to stay quiet until I seriously wrote her story and for me as a Canadian farm gal, a book is never complete without some kind of animal sidekick. Most people would have gone with the guide dog approach but, I hate to offend anyone here, I am just not a dog person. My whole life has been spent around show horses of various breeds and disciplines.As I was thinking on an animal sidekick I remembered an old show I saw once on Animal Planet about a lady in the USA who trained miniature horses to be guides for the blind. She used a harness similar to a dogs, put cute little sneakers on the pony’s feet for traction and house-trained them. These remarkable little creatures could do everything a guide dog could and posed less of an allergy problem.

From this simple show the idea behind Jester was born and he quickly became a most endearing character who threatened to steal the story in more than a few scenes! You can view a quick teaser of the tale here: http://youtu.be/S6qfLlbIkxA.

True to my love of critters big and small I am currently polishing another historical romance novel with suspense, adventure and paranormal aspects to it titled Love’s Magic. It is the story of a female magician and her unusual sidekick, a black Holland rabbit named Dexter.

About Through Gypsy Eyes

Delilah Daysland doesn’t see herself as marriage material. After all, who could love a woman locked in darkness?

Try telling that to Lord Tyrone Frost. He’s determined to do his duty and see her wed to a suitable gentleman, as the King commands.

Delilah has other plans. Convinced her father’s death was no accident, she must depend upon her pony Jester to guide her through everyday challenges as she seeks the truth behind mystery, murder, and deception. Though drawn to Tyrone she’s afraid to trust him, until she sees the world and love through gypsy eyes.

Sensuality Level: Behind Closed Doors

Available

Amazon

Excerpt

The pony snorted and then nickered. She strained to hear anything beyond her own movement as she kept herself afloat. Was there a slight rustle in the brush? Stilling her movement, she paid closer attention. After detecting no further sound she closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax and float in the blissful rocking motion of the current. It must be a small woodland creature out to parch its thirst on such a stuffy night. There was nothing to fear from such creatures, she was sure. A soft splash gave her pause and she rolled over. Treading water she turned to face the opposite bank. Ripples rose, slapping her chest as if something waded in the shallows. She listened again. A rhythmic sloshing made its way toward her. Alarm quickened her pulse as she concentrated on the sound.

“Jester?”

An answering nicker came from the bank behind her. She worried her damp lower lip between her teeth. If Jester is yet on the bank, then what is in the water with me? The unknown visitor slowed, treading water a few yards from her. By the noise it made she surmised it was large. Intuition told her it was not a mink or beaver come to fish. The fine hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle. Crossing one arm over her breasts and paddling with the other to keep afloat she inquired, “Is someone there?”

“I thought my eyes deceived me when I spied a fair maiden floating in this pool.”

The unexpected baritone froze her movement. Delilah gasped, almost going under the surface of the water when she forgot in surprise to paddle for an instant. She scrambled for something appropriate to say under the circumstances. “I beg your pardon, sir? ‘Tis most unseemly to disrupt a lady’s swim.”

He chuckled, a low, husky sound making her picture a large, muscular physique. “Ah, you are right; however, I have yet to determine whether you are a lady or merely a figment of my overtaxed imagination.”

Heart thudding against her ribcage, she swam backward toward the opposite bank, struggling to appear calm and collected. The stranger could accost her here and no one would know to come to her rescue. How senseless I have been. Surely Jester will be no match for a man intent on harming me. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage.

“I assure you sir, I am not a figment of anyone’s imaginings, least of all yours.”

“Hmm …” the preponderance followed her. “Perhaps then you are a woodland nymph out to temp any man who passes by to try your nectar?”

Her feet touched bottom, sinking into the sand. Before she could turn and make for the bank his hands were on her waist. To her horror he cradled it in a firm, yet gentle grip.

“Release me sir, for you do offend a lady, not a nymph.” She fought a growing sense of panic as he drew her to him.

His minty breath tickled her damp cheek. “You have flesh as any maiden. Do you taste as sweet as one, too?”

Anger and shock at his boldness brought her hand down with force to slap the surface of the water. He sputtered in response to the spray splattering his face. Perhaps I might have the upper hand. “Release me this instant or I shall scream and alert my maid who sleeps on the bank,” she bluffed.

Despite the warning, he chuckled. “There is no maid, wood nymph, for I walked the whole perimeter when I spied you here.”

Is his intent to take advantage of a lone woman and defile me? What am I to do?

Summoning her little remaining courage, she tried to reason with him. “I say again, release me good sir, for my presence will be missed at the manor even as we speak.” She grimaced at the tremor in her voice betraying her fear. He shifted, his mouth brushing her ear, and she gasped at the intimate contact.

“Ah, even so I would take a moment to test your lips to see if they are as soft and sweet as your voice,” he whispered.

About the Author

Well, before becoming a published author I used to be a natural horsemanship trainer, farrier and English & Western riding coach. I currently live on a Canadian cattle ranch with my family, though one day have dreams of seeing the world and moving to Australia. I am still as passionate about my horses as my writing but have to work hard to balance the two these days. Which is my greatest joy? Probably my registered Thoroughbred stallion, Stamp de Gold, whom I lovingly refer to as Love Monkey. In a horse person’s life there comes that one very special equine who seems to know exactly what you want and what you are thinking. I have been blessed with two of those amazing creatures over my years of owning, training and showing, my dear departed Melderman and Stamp de Gold. For all those ‘horsey’ readers and authors out there I also have a blog dedicated to all kinds of horse info.

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Current Books on Amazon

Susanna Ives and “Wicked Little Secrets”

Dec19

About Wicked Little Secrets

It’s Not Easy Being Good…

Vivacious Vivienne Taylor has finally won her family’s approval by getting engaged to the wealthy and upright John Vandergrift. But when threatened by a vicious blackmail scheme, it is to her childhood friend that Vivienne turns; the deliciously wicked Viscount Dashiell.

When Being Wicked is so Much More Exciting…

Lord Dashiell promised himself long ago that his friendship with Vivienne would be the one relationship with a woman that he wouldn’t ruin. He agrees to help her just to keep the little hothead safe, but soon finds that Vivienne has grown up to be very, very dangerous to all of Dash’s best intentions.

Available

Amazon • Barnes & Noble • Sourcebooks

SUSANA SAYS: Talk about ROFL—literally could NOT stop giggling! 5/5 stars

Poor Vivienne! She can never be good enough for anyone in her family. Until she manages to hook a matrimonial fish that puts smiles on their faces. John Vandergrift, a respectable young man from a prominent family, can help lift her family out of the financial mess that threatens them. Suddenly, she’s being fêted and praised by everyone from her staid Aunt Gertrude and her religious zealot friends to her relieved—and amazed—parents. Frankly, this is like a whole different world for Vivienne, who is used to being lectured and called the bad seed of the family. And she loves it! She’ll do anything to become the worthy lady her new fiancé deserves.

Lord Dashiell, the wicked rakehell next door who used to think of her as a little sister, is the only one who doesn’t approve of Vivienne’s betrothal. For one thing, he doesn’t like to think of Vivienne belonging to anyone but him—except that he’s far too wicked to be a good husband, of course—and he thinks the idea of Vivi trying to fit into a pattern card of respectability is ridiculous when obviously she is perfect the way she is.

No matter how she tries, Vivienne always seems to fail at being perfect. After she hears her “respectable” fiancé discussing his trollop in public, she begins to wonder why she has to be beyond reproach when he can boast openly of his own peccadilloes. And yet…there’s something addictive about being the savior of her family, the girl most admired in the Wesleyan church. How can she give that up?

After so many years of reading historical romances, there are times when one starts to sound the same as all the others and my interest starts to flag. So when I find one that takes hold of my imagination and won’t let go, I’m delirious with joy. Wicked Little Secrets is one of those, I’m happy to say.

There are plenty of hints about the resolution of the story, so that was no surprise. But what kept my attention was the hilarity. Lord Dashiell’s scandalously lovable grandfather. Garth the dog. The bird that says “I love you.” The culminating scene is absolutely hysterical and eliminates any doubts that Lord Dashiell is a worthy hero.

If you are having trouble getting through your current book, put it aside and try this one. You won’t regret it!

About the Author

Susanna Ives grew up in the rural South, where she spent most of her youth at the local theater, acting in productions, working in the lighting booth, and building sets. Eventually she left her small town for the city lights of Atlanta, where she attended college and worked in corporations as a multimedia developer. These days she chases after her two curious, energetic children, designs web pages, and writes.

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Kris Tualla and her Discreet Gentlemen

Dec12

Ever find a hero that won’t let go of YOU?

A couple of years ago, I read an article in the Romance Writer Report which stated that women are attracted to a man who “looks at them like they are the only thing in the room.” I found that idea intriguing. So I started wondering, what sort of man would have that kind of intensity?

A deaf man.

So I dove in and decided to write a deaf hero. Because I write historicals and Norsemen, I set him in the 1700s in Christiania (now Oslo) Norway. Next, I needed to figure out what a deaf man could do to support himself, after being passed over as heir because of his hearing loss. He told me he solves crimes because (in his gestures): When people find out I’m deaf, they forget I’m in the room. Plus, he reads lips.

After dragging Brander Hansen through all kinds of emotional torture ~ and having him track a serial killer along southern Norway’s coastline ~ he gets his “Happily Ever After” with the heroine. I typed The End, and thought I was done.

He didn’t agree.

After a few months, Brander nudged me and asked if I was really certain I wanted to let go of him.

I wasn’t.

With a deep breath and a squaring of shoulders, I turned back to look at Brander’s life with his new wife, Regin Kildahl. Turns out, the spunky Baroness wasn’t ready to sit back and enjoy a quiet life either. Enter Desert Breeze Publishing and contracts for FIVE books, based on the strength of the first, “A Discreet Gentleman of Discovery.”

Through 2012 and 2013, we also released “A Discreet Gentleman of Matrimony” (a murder behind locked doors), “A Discreet Gentleman of Consequence” (18th-century version of a Ponzi scheme), and “A Discreet Gentleman of Intrigue” (spy playing all sides).

The fifth book released today through Desert Breeze: “A Discreet Gentleman of Mystery” (a dead body inside a wall of Regin’s ancestral home).

http://www.desertbreezepublishing.com/brands/Kris-Tualla.html

Writing a deaf hero in the 1700s was a challenge, to be honest. Aside from the lack of a formal sign language, the common perception of the deaf was that they were stupid. Of course, Brander turns that to his advantage.

Another challenge was figuring out a way to let the reader know HOW the dialog was being delivered. I decided on:

“Spoken words are in quotation marks.”

Written words are in italics.

And when Brander gestures: His sentences look like dialog, but without quote marks.

Will this book be the last about Brander and Regin? I’m not certain. I have a Renaissance knight stubbornly demanding his turn next, and he’s a trilogy. While Desert Breeze is strongly hinting that they would like more, I’ll have to wait and listen to Brander.

And for a mute-by-choice deaf man, he does have a very loud voice.

About the Author

Kris Tualla, a dynamic award-winning author of historical romances, writes with a fast-paced and succinct style. Her plots are full of twists, passion, and very satisfying outcomes! Kris started with nothing but a nugget of a character in mind, and has created a dynasty – The Hansen Series. Norway is the new Scotland!

Kris is an active member of Romance Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and the Historical Novel Society. She is an enthusiastic speaker and teacher, and created Arizona Dreamin’ ~ Arizona’s first romance-reader event!

Maggi Andersen and “Taming a Gentleman Spy”

Dec9

Maggi will award a $50 Amazon GC plus an e-book copy of A Baron in Her Bed – The Spies of Mayfair, Book #1 to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About Taming a Gentleman Spy

John Haldane, Earl of Strathairn, is on an urgent mission to find the killer of his fellow spy. After visiting the young widow of one of his agents, Strathairn strengthens his resolve. A spy should never marry, and most certainly not to Lady Sibella Winborne, with her romantic ideas of love and marriage. Unable to give Sibella up entirely, he has kept her close as a friend. Then, weak fool that he is, he kissed her.

Lady Sibella Winborne has refused several offers of marriage since she first set eyes on the handsome Earl of Strathairn. Sibella’s many siblings always rush to her aid to discourage an ardent suitor, but not this time. Her elder brother, Chaloner, Marquess of Brandreth, has approved Lord Coombe’s suit. Sibella yearns to set up her own household. She is known to be the sensible member of the family, but she doesn’t feel at all sensible about Lord Strathairn. If only she could forget that kiss.

Available

Amazon • Knox Robinson Publishing Ltd. • Barnes & Noble

Excerpt

Sibella’s brother Edward stood at her shoulder. “I’ve come to claim you for the next dance, before any of your admirers beat me to it.”

“I shouldn’t worry, many are losing interest,” she said crisply, rising from her chair.

He eyed her as they entered the dance floor. “Losing hope, more like.”

As they moved through the steps of the quadrille, he dropped quiet remarks in her ear.

“Give up on Strathairn, Sib.”

“I don’t believe, I—” They parted, and by the time the steps brought them back together, she’d given up protesting. Edward had inherited their mother’s astute nature.

“It’s not that I don’t like him. I do very much. But he’s not for you.”

“You needn’t worry. He doesn’t wish to marry.”

Her brother raised a black eyebrow. “Oh, I believe you could sway him toward marriage, if you set your mind to it. That’s not the reason.”

“Then what is the reason?”

“Chaloner hears things in the House of Lords. I can’t repeat them.”

“So he tells you but not me.”

Edward shrugged with a smile and moved away.

“Why does such mystery surround the Earl of Strathairn?” she hissed at him when she next got a chance.

He shook his head. She’d learn no more.

About the Author

Maggi Andersen fell in love with the Georgian and Regency worlds after reading the books of Georgette Heyer. Victoria Holt’s Gothic Victorian novels were also great favorites.

She has raised three children and gained a BA and an MA in Creative Writing. After husband David retired from the law, they moved to the beautiful Southern Highlands of Australia.

Maggi’s free time is spent enjoying her garden and the local wildlife, reading, movies and the theatre. She keeps fit swimming and visiting the gym.

Maggi is a multi-published author, and writes mysteries and young adult novels as well as her Georgian, Regency and Victorian romances.

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B.J. Scott and “Highland Homecoming”

Dec2

B.J. will be awarding a $50 Amazon gift card, Scottish shortbread cookies, can cooler and mouse pad (US/CANADA ONLY) to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

Since this is a historical romance, I was given the option to discuss something interesting about Scottish history. One of things I found interesting was the reason the thistle is considered the emblem of Scotland over the sweet smelling heather.

The prickly, green leafed weed, with the purple floral crown is seen on almost anything associated with Scotland. The legend is that in 1263, during the reign of King Alexander III, Vikings, led by their king Haakon IV landed on the shore of Scotland. Had they come to invade Scotland, were they raiding villages along the coast or had they been forced ashore by a storm? The answer may never be known, but it castles on the coast were on guard for an attack, because it had been attempted in the past. When the Vikings came ashore, the cries of the barefooted warriors, as they stepped on the thistles served as a warning, allowing the Scots to prepare for the invasion and thwart the attempt. The first use of the thistle as an emblem was recorded in 1470 when it appeared on a silver coin issued by King James III.

The thistle in ancient times was thought to be a symbol of nobility of character and birth. To do harm to the thistle would result in punishment. Because of this belief when the ancient chivalric, noble Order of the Thistle was founded by James II, the thistle was chosen as the symbol in 1687. Their motto “Nemo me impune lacessit” (no one harms me without punishment.) In Scots “Wha daurs meddle wi me”

The order still exists today, the motto used on many things associated with Scotland.

About Highland Homecoming

The last thing Alasdair Fraser expects to find on an isolated beach in Northern Scotland is a beautiful, unconscious lass. Unable to turn his back on someone in need, he delays his journey and tends to her injuries–an act that has him questioning his destiny and his plans to rejoin the fight for Scotland’s independence.

Will he drop the shield that guards his heart or will the secrets she fails to reveal and his own stubbornness keep them apart forever?

Available

Amazon

Soul Mate Publishing

Excerpt

Perched on a stool by the fire, he watched her sleep, wondering how he was going to ever let her go. She was by far the loveliest woman he had ever seen, and she did not seem to be put off by his size, awkwardness, or lack of manners. But duty dictated that they part ways.

After tossing a log on the fire, he spread a pelt on the floor in front of the hearth, then lowered himself to the ground. He pulled the tunic over his head and tossed it on the stool, then did the same with his trews and boots, before settling beneath a length of plaid

The last thing he wanted to do was lie on the floor and go to sleep. If truth be known, he wanted to slip beneath the covers, take Lauren in his arms, and make her his own. But that would not be right or proper. They were not betrothed and despite what people might think of him, he was a man of honor.

The women he’d bedded in the past had all been of questionable repute and none had been untried maidens. If Lauren was not already married or spoken for, he held enough respect for her that he would wait until their wedding night. But then again, if she did not get her memory back, he might never know for certain.

He slammed his fist on the floor. What the hell was he thinking? He was never going to take a bride. Especially one with no past. He was a warrior. There was no future for them, something he best not forget. He tucked the plaid around his shoulders and dozed off.

An ear-piercing scream disturbed his slumber and Alasdair jolted up with a start. Wasting no time, he climbed to his feet and raced to the pallet.

About the Author

With a passion for historical romance, history in general, and anything Celtic, B.J. always has an exciting work in progress. Each story offers a blend of romance, adventure, suspense, and, where appropriate, a dab of comic relief. Carefully researched historical facts are woven into each manuscript, providing a backdrop from which steamy romance, gripping plots, and vivid characters—dashing alpha heroes and resourceful, beguiling heroines you can’t help but admire—spring to life. A member of RWA, World Romance Writers, Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, and Savvy Authors, B.J. also writes contemporary, paranormal, time travel, and romantic suspense.

C.S. Lewis first captivated B. J.’s imagination in the fourth grade, and her desire to write sprang from there. Following a career in nursing and child and youth work, B.J. married her knight-in-shining-armor, and he whisked her away to his castle by the sea. In reality, they share their century-old home in a small Canadian town on the shore of Lake Erie with three dogs and a cat. When she is not working at her childcare job, on her small business, or writing, you will find her reading, camping, or antique hunting.

Contacts

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Jessica Jefferson and “Compromising Miss Tisdale”

Nov25

Jessica is giving away a $50 Amazon or BN.com Gift Certificate to one lucky reader. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

A DAY WITH JESSICA JEFFERSON – THE MORNING

0615 – Most mornings I wake up with a writing hang-over. The difference between a writing hang-over and other hang-overs is that one is the unfortunate product of unadulterated fun, while the other is the product of actual hard work. I try not to write till my children are in bed so I might better keep up my guise as good mother. I’m convinced my kids are insomniacs, so I often don’t get out my lap top till about ten or later, which can easily lead to an all night writing bender. It’s a bit like my college days, except I’m old now and don’t rebound nearly as well as I used to.

I’m usually lagging behind so my eight-year old takes on the role of toaster chef and prepares our breakfast. By this time, my husband is long gone since he has to be at work about dawn o’ clock each day. He’s an engineer working in a non-engineer leadership role for a utility company doing something rather vague, while I am technically a nurse working as a non-nurse in a kind of consulting role doing something equally vague within a healthcare system. My kids have no real idea of what either my husband or myself do, and frankly I have trouble putting it into words myself. We’re certainly not being invited to present at career day anytime soon.

The worst part of my morning is spent arguing about clothing choices. My two-year old wants to wear her rain boots daily, but if I’m lucky, she’ll opt to wear pants. My eight-year old will “misplace” the clothes we picked out together the night before in lieu of some sort of inappropriate ensemble. She can take the most innocent looking clothes and somehow manage to make them look like one of those numbers pop stars wear on the MTV Video Music Awards. Oy vey.

Sometimes we make it on time, sometimes we don’t. Getting kids out the door in the morning can be challenging. Lunch needs packed, shoes need put on the correct feet. I’d never make it in government since I negotiate with the little terrorists on a daily basis. I barter using whatever I have on hand – fruit snacks, juice boxes, the promise of new Barbie dolls, whatever it takes to get them in the car.

Once in the car, the two-year old insists on buckling her own five point harness. That never goes well. Both children are rather independent and they’re just really bright kids. As adults, I’ll be glad they possess such qualities. But as far as children go – I’d give anything for a dopey little people pleaser.

The line to drop the kids off at school usually overflows out onto the road and I end up blocking traffic with my larger than necessary SUV. I hate driving such a large vehicle, but it was either that or a minivan in order to haul everything and everyone. For some reason, undoubtedly rooted in our vanity, the SUV makes us feel better about ourselves. It makes us feel as if we haven’t lost the last semblance of our youth. In reality, when you see a SUV you can pretty much guess there’s a family in there with parents who dress too young for their age and think their choice in vehicle makes them look far cooler than they actually are.

I drop the toddler at the sitter and she runs happily into her arms. It warms my heart knowing that she loves the babysitter and that she’s well taken care of, but also makes me insanely jealous at the same time.

Finally, I arrive at work, ready to start my day. Every once in a while I’ll pull into the parking garage, look in my rear view mirror and see that I may have forgotten to drop the toddler off at the sitter’s, but for the most part we all make it to our right destinations.

Who knew the life of a romance author could be this glamorous?

About Compromising Miss Tisdale

Ambrosia Tisdale is the very picture of propriety and the epitome of what a respectable young lady should be. Haunted by a memory and compelled by her family, she pursues perfection to a fault.

The Earl of Bristol, Duncan Maddox, has returned to London after years of familial imposed exile. As the second son, he has led a life filled with frivolity, leisure, and a healthy dose of debauchery. Now his older brother has died, leaving the family’s flailing legacy in Duncan’s unwilling arms.

At the behest of his uncle, Duncan is advised to do the one thing that could provide instant fortune and respectability – he must marry. But there is only one prospect who meets the unique requirements to solve all the Earl’s problems – the lovely Miss Ambrosia Tisdale. But securing the prudent daughter of a Viscount’s hand proves to be more challenging than this scandal ridden second son of an Earl has bargained for.

With scandal, extortion, treachery, and even love itself threatening to keep him from his goal, will Duncan succeed in compromising Miss Tisdale?

Excerpt

James tapped his finger to the cleft in his chin. “So, I am to assume that you need financial prosperity, respectability, honor, and security virtually overnight? That is your dilemma?”

Duncan chuckled at the absurdity of the situation. “In so many words, yes.”

He shrugged. “Should be simple enough.”

Duncan laughed outwardly now. “Simple? You call that simple?”

James arched an eyebrow. “Such a quandary is hardly original to noble men like us.”

“How do you figure?”

“Your predicament is nothing new. Men of our station have been combating that very issue for years. And the solution is hardly novel. I’m quite surprised someone with your acumen hadn’t thought of it earlier.

“Clearly, I am ignorant, so please-enlighten me.”

“You need to marry.”

Duncan deflated. “Is that all?”

“Well, you couldn’t just marry anyone. She must be rich, but not noveau riche. And her family must be prominent. She needn’t be from a ducal house necessarily, but with rivaling status in its age and reputation. And since you’re such a cad, your wife will need to be the picture of morality. We’re talking the personification of righteousness-no skeletons in the closet, no relatives from the other side of the blanket, no scandals amongst third cousins. The gossip rags must have nothing on her or her family.”

Duncan felt his nostrils flair. “Yes, simple indeed. So, where exactly do you suggest I find this rich Lady Madonna?”

A slow smile crept up James’ face. “You’ve already met her.”

Confused, Duncan thought for a moment. Then he smacked into the great stone wall of realization at just what it was his friend was implying. “Miss Tisdale? You’re suggesting I marry Miss Tisdale? The Miss Tisdale who you just finished telling me is waiting for the perfect husband–who no doubt has far more prestige and fortune than I? You’re cracked.” Duncan turned and started walking back towards the curtain.

About the Author

Jessica Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she likes to think of it – almost Chicago. Jessica originally attended college in hopes of achieving an English degree and writing the next great American novel. Ten years later she was working as a registered nurse and reading historical romance when she decided to give writing another go-round.

Jessica writes likes she speaks, which has a tendency to be fast paced and humorous. Jessica is heavily inspired by sweeping, historical romance novels, but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and comedy to transport the reader into a story they miss long after the last page is read. She invites you to visit her at jessicajefferson.com and read her random romance musings.

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Rue Allyn and “A True and Perfect Knight”

Nov18

“When life hands you lemons. . .”

Susana, thank you very much for inviting me back to share with your readers. I recently suffered a serious setback (sorry, the details involve others, and I respect their privacy) and am still trying to regain my balance. I know all that stuff about making lemonade and closing doors that cause windows to open. However, in the moment of receiving a life blow, I can’t say that I feel like doing much of anything, let alone writing a blog. Nonetheless, I made a commitment, so here I am, typing madly away to make my deadline. And luckily enough, I have a readymade use for even the worst experience. I give it, or some part of it, to my characters.

The concept for A True and Perfect Knight—a widow suspected of pushing her spouse (now dead by hanging) into treason falls for his best friend and a knight ordered to marry the woman he believes caused his best friend’s death—required that I show immediately how difficult my heroine’s life had become. She’d been bombarded with setbacks and tragedy, and there was more to come before she would see her HEA. As a sample take a look at the opening of A True and Perfect Knight.

Pre-order A True and Perfect Knight here.

Please leave a comment and share with me how you handle setbacks or sorrows.

“Rumor says that the bottom of a privy is more attractive than Roger’s widow.” Privately, Sir Haven De Sessions wished the widow to the devil along with the incessant rain.

“No noble woman could be that ugly, especially one from the court in Paris,” protested Soames, Haven’s second in command.

Haven thought of the execution he’d witnessed and felt his jaw clench. “If God is just, Genvieve Dreyford’s face will expose every coil and stain in her black soul. ’Tis only right that the true nature of the woman who led my best friend to treason show on her face.”

Soames shook his head at his commander’s remarks. “Do you suppose that is her?” He slanted his head in the direction of six sodden figures huddled some distance from the by-way.

Haven followed Soames’ glance. “Possibly. We have come almost a league from the castle. That is the distance the bailiff claimed he had taken the widow and her entourage when the new lord threw her out. But, I doubt…” His words trailed off as he peered through the downpour at the figure that stepped to the front of the pitiful group.

The woman stood tall and straight. Shoulders back, legs braced. She anchored herself, as if by sheer will alone she could defend the others. A young boy clung to her skirts.

Could this be the suspected traitoress who caused the downfall of his best friend, Roger Dreyford? Haven wanted to see her face, to see if she appeared as evil as he believed her to be. Distance and the obscuring rain defeated him.

“But what, Sir?”

Soames question shook Haven from his musings. “But I doubt a woman like Roger’s widow would stand out in the rain or tolerate such a humble abode.”

About Rue Allyn

Author of historical, contemporary, and erotic romances, Rue Allyn fell in love with happily ever after the day she heard her first story. She is deliriously married to her sweetheart of many years and loves to hear from readers about their favorite books and real life adventures. Learn more about Rue at http://RueAllyn.com.

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Rue Allyn and “One Day’s Loving”

Nov4

The Shy Heroine

I love series books, especially when a family (yes, metaphorical families are fine) is involved. What I don’t like is when every family member feels like the same person with a slightly different appearance. You know the type—they talk alike, walk alike, even make love alike. Every man is the MOST handsome and every woman is the BRIGHTEST beauty. I don’t know a single family where all the relations are exactly alike.

When I set out to write my Wildfire Love series about the Alden sisters of Boston the first two books, One Moment’s Pleasure and One Night’s Desire, came easily because Edith (the oldest) and Kiera (the middle child) were both bold. Edith was more of a planner than Kiera and a bit less of a risk taker. Edith was attractive, but not beautiful. She knew how to present herself. Kiera never had to worry about her appearance. She was stunning in a potato sack. These women let me know right up front who they were and what they wanted.

Not so with their youngest sister Persephone Mae. As the youngest, she’d always been sheltered and protected by her siblings. She grew up shy and unassuming and a bit on the dowdy side. When circumstances leave her on her own to deal with the disasters caused by her grandfather’s will, she’s forced to come out of hiding. But getting her there wasn’t easy.

Have you ever dealt with an extremely shy person? Someone who is too awkward and/or ignorant to be able to express what he/she wants. Someone who lacks the experience and confidence to act assertively. I feel for the shy ones in life because all too often they are ignored or derided and they don’t even realize they don’t have to put up with ill treatment.

Because she’d been sheltered all her life, Mae had no idea what she was capable of. For her, simply traveling from her home to the attorney’s office for the reading of the will was a challenge. She went, despite her worries. Once I got her out of the house, I wouldn’t let her go back to hiding until she recognized that a shy, retiring life wasn’t what she wanted or needed. I won’t spoil all the fun by telling you how Mae changes her life. I will tell you that despite all the difficulty of dealing with a shy heroine, I think she’s the most courageous of the three Alden sisters. She is absolutely not a mirror image of her siblings, but is her own woman.

Please leave a comment and let me know if you like heroines who are shy, feisty or somewhere in between.

If you’d like to know more about Mae and discover the answers to some of the questions raised here you may read a longer excerpt at http://rueallyn.com/2c3ODLexcerpt.html.

One Day’s Loving will be released on November 18, 2013 and is the third book in the Wildfire Love Series. Freedom or love? Courage or comfort? Unless Mae Alden meets the terms of her grandfather’s outrageous last testament she will lose everything. She’s ready to sacrifice all creature comforts to preserve her principles, but is she willing to lose her one chance at love?

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You can find the first two books of the series here, or you may pre-order One Day’s Loving here.

About the Author

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TJ Brown and “Summerset Abbey”

Oct28

The author will be awarding autographed copies of books two and three of the series, A Bloom in Winter and Spring Awakening to two randomly drawn commenters during the tour (open internationally). Click on the banner above to follow the rest of the tour and increase your chances of winning. Click here for the Rafflecopter.

About Summerset Abbey

Reminiscent of Downton Abbey, this first novel in a new series follows two sisters and their maid as they are suddenly separated by the rigid class divisions within a sprawling aristocratic estate and thrust into an uncertain world on the brink of WWI…

Rowena and Victoria, daughters to the second son of the Earl of Summerset, have always treated their governess’s daughter, Prudence, like a sister. But when their father dies and they move in with their uncle’s family in a much more traditional household, Prudence is relegated to the maids’ quarters, much to the girls’ shock and dismay. The impending war offers each girl hope for a more modern future, but the ever-present specter of class expectations makes it difficult for Prudence to maintain a foot in both worlds.

Vividly evoking both time and place and filled with authentic dialogue and richly detailed atmosphere, Summerset Abbey is a charming and timeless historical debut.

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Excerpt

A lump rose in her throat as she caught sight of the ornate casket, draped with a full spray of lilies, carnations, and palm fronds. The only reason she was here, clutching Rowena’s and Victoria’s hands in hers instead of shrinking into the background with the other servants, was the kindness of the man who lay inside. After Prudence’s father had died, her mother, who had worked at Sir Philip’s estate as a girl, had been sent to attend to Rowena and Victoria’s ailing mother. When his wife died, Sir Philip asked her to stay on to help raise the girls, and Prudence, exactly between his daughters in age, became part of the family. Prudence, who volunteered her time at several different poorhouses in the city, knew exactly what happened to young girls left alone in the world. She would forever be grateful to Sir Philip for not allowing that to happen to her.

She blinked away her tears and occupied herself by looking at the rest of the congregation. Only a few looked familiar. Among them were Rupert Brooke, the high-strung and handsome young poet; Ben Tillett, the iron-jawed union leader; and Roger Fry, the controversial artist responsible for bringing London’s shocked attention to postimpressionism some years prior. These were some of Sir Philip’s friends, a motley collection of artists, intellectuals, and misfits.

Because the Earl had arranged the funeral, most of the people in attendance were his peers, men from the House of Lords and others from the cream of London society.

Sir Philip would have hated it.

The beautiful gold arches and polished marble of St. Bride’s Church gleamed, just as they had the few times the family had attended church. Sir Philip had chosen St. Bride’s because, as he used to say, “Sir Christopher Wren built the kind of church that God might actually enjoy.”

Gradually, Prudence became aware of a young man staring at her from across the aisle. Her eyes darted in his direction, then away. Moments later, unable to help herself, she glanced back to see whether he was still looking at her. He was. She turned slightly and stared fixedly at the bronze candelabra to the left of him, her cheeks burning.

Victoria leaned around her to whisper to Rowena. “Look, Lord Billingsly has noticed our Prudence.”

“I’m right here,” Prudence whispered, and gave both their hands a hard squeeze for emphasis.

She didn’t look his way again.

Once the service started, Prudence sank into a well of grief that threatened to drown her. The waves of it lapped at her from all sides, covered her head, and made sight almost impossible. Inside, her heart broke and a waterfall of sorrow poured from the cracks. On one side, Victoria sobbed quietly, while Rowena’s stiff resolve buoyed her from the other. She clung to their hands as the service passed in a blur of speeches.

They remained that way until it was time to get into the ornate black and gold funeral carriages that would take them back to their home in Mayfair for the reception. Behind the carriages stood a line of motorcars; most of the wealthy guests had long given up their carriages for the convenience and speed of automobiles. The Earl himself had several, and Sir Philip’s sleek Eton-blue Belsize sat idle in the carriage house, but the Earl insisted on traditional horse-drawn carriages.

“Miss Tate will ride in the staff carriage.” The Earl’s voice brooked no opposition and his square jaw firmed. Prudence knew that look. Rowena’s pretty face held the same expression when she got all stubborn about something.

Victoria’s eyes widened. “Prudence rides with us.”

“Nonsense. The Duke of Plymouth wishes to join us and there isn’t enough room.”

Prudence placed her hands on Victoria’s shoulders. Tension vibrated through the young girl’s slender body and Prudence’s stomach knotted, sure that Victoria was going to throw a fit, the kind she used to throw when the family still called her baby and she wanted the biggest sweet in the shop. Even at eighteen, Victoria wasn’t above a tantrum or two if she thought the situation warranted it. But her waiflike face suddenly fell and her lower lip trembled.

“It’ll be all right,” Prudence whispered. “I’ll go back with the staff and meet you at home.”

About the Author

TJ Brown is proud of her two children but coming in a close second is the fact that she parachuted out of a plane and beat the original Legend of Zelda video game. Her young adult historical about Harry Houdini’s illegitimate daughter came out in June from Balzer+Bray. She also writes adult historicals under TJ Brown. She resides with her husband and way too many pets in Portlandia.

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Shehanne Moore: His Judas Bride

Oct14

Shehanne will be awarding a $10 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

Click the banner above to comment on each stop of the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About His Judas Bride

To love…….

To save her son, there is nothing she won’t do. To save his people, neither will he. Dire circumstances force Kara McGurkie to forget she’s a woman. Dire circumstances force her to swear to love and honor, to help destroy a clan in order to get back the life she lost. But when dire circumstances force her to seduce her fiancé’s brother on the eve of the wedding, will the dark secrets she holds and the things she wants most, be enough to save her and them, from his powerful allure, especially when she knows he may just be playing with her.

Honor….

Callm McDunnagh, the Black Wolf of Lochalpin, ruthlessly guards heart and glen from dangerous intruders. But from the moment he first sees Kara he knows he must possess her, even though he also knows that surrendering to his desire may prove the most dangerous risk of all.

And betray…;

Now no problem becomes big problem as passion and desire rage out of control. Kara must look into the soul she thought she sold to make a choice. But can she look deep enough? Only she can decide who and what passion can save, or destroy, how when and who will finally learn the truth of the words… Till death do us part.

Excerpt

Yes. This tone was more reasonable, but she’d a horrible feeling the damage was done. His guests gaped. The serving girls gaped. Even the Wolf turned his head, his sea-green eyes glinting silver beneath his lowered brows.

This wasn’t just a question of keeping her expression neutral. After his performance in this very hall the other day the last thing Kara wanted was the Wolf striding over here and taking further issue with her betrothed. Not when the notion he owed her the reprieve was one she only just clung to.

When it was clear Ewen wanted to make a show, she must swallow her annoyance that the offer would never have arisen in the first place had the Wolf not waltzed in here, stand up, and take the arm Ewen McDunnagh now extended. But the crippling thing was that her father’s dungeon wasn’t the place for jigs. She had not danced in years.

To stand out there on the floor was to expose that fact. A jug, she could not help feeling, would be so much better. At least a jug would not leave her looking like a damned fool when she was meant to have lived in Edinburgh for five years jigging nonstop. There must be something she could do that would prevent this.

“The music is not to your satisfaction, perhaps?”

Suppressing the desire to grit her teeth, she forced a smile. “Oh, no, not at all my lord, the music is lovely. Quite beautiful, in fact. And you do me very great honor. I could not help noticing though, the fine dancer you are, while I—I, how can I possibly say this—”

“Something slower for my bonnie bride. She has been learning in Edinburgh and will show us the latest steps.”

About the Author

Shehanne Moore is a Scottish author, who writes gritty, witty, as much risky as risqué, historical romance, set wherever takes her fancy. Stories that detail the best and worst of human behaviour, as opposed to pouts and flounces. For years she worked at various things, while pursuing her dream of becoming a published writer, so she was gobsmacked to sell her book, The Unraveling of Lady Fury, written in three months, to U.S. publishers, Etopia Press, six days after subbing it.

Shehanne still lives in Scotland, with her husband Mr Shey. She has two daughters. When not writing intriguing historical romance, where goals and desires of sassy, unconventional heroines and ruthless men, mean worlds do collide, she fantasizes about cleaning the house, plays the odd musical instrument and loves what in any other country, would not be defined, as hill-walking.

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Available

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