Saturday Sexcerpt – Calla’s Summer Fantasy by Amber Daulton

callas-summer-fantasy“…Here are the blurb and a sexy quick peek at Calla’s Summer Fantasy, my latest erotic romance novella from Resplendence Publishing.”~Amber Daulton

Blurb

Calla Lansky needed help at playing the field.

She scheduled two dates for the same night at her favorite seafood restaurant and she owed her shocked boyfriends an explanation. To her surprise, Nathan Risley and Sam Tomlin handled the awkward situation like pros and happily agreed to her ultimate fantasy: a ménage à trois.

After the hottest night of her life, Calla faced the ultimate decision.

Should she commit to the one man who secretly loved her all along or keep her options open and indulge in her summer fantasy again and again?

Excerpt

Calla couldn’t decide which passionate, rock-hard hunk satisfied her body more.

She glanced back down at the bed coverings and kicked away her heels. Only a coward would continue to stall. Calla turned her back on her lovers, slowly untied the halter straps of her little blue dress and shimmied her hips. The clingy fabric slid down her body, pooled around her ankles and left her in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra. A flirty pout puckered her lips as she glanced behind her.

“Little tease.” Sam clenched one hand at his side, his gaze dropped to her perky ass, and he pumped his cock harder with his other hand.

She grinned, her self-confidence shot like a rocket into outer space, and she tunneled her hands through her hair to lift the heavy locks. The nape of her neck tingled and her hair cascaded back down in a slow fall to sway at the tip of her ass. Nathan growled as Calla reached for her bra clasp and she batted her eyelashes at him from over her shoulder. “You wanna do it?” Nathan liked undressing her, Sam enjoyed her strip shows, but Calla didn’t care how she undressed as long as she woke up sore in the morning.

Nathan crossed the blankets in three long strides and grasped her waist with his strong hands. His fingers dug a little hard into her skin. Desire shot through her and she almost melted as he trailed hard little kisses along her shoulder blade. She inadvertently transferred power and control of the situation to him but she couldn’t find the will or the want to steal it back. Nathan swiped her hair to one side, feathered his fingertips down her spine and wrapped his arms around her like two steel bands. Caged against his solid chest, his cock pressed into the small of her back and she felt scorched by his possessive hold.

He turned her around so they faced Sam. The photographer’s lustful gaze burned like hot coals over her body. Nathan cupped her breasts, tweaked her nipples through the lace and snapped the clasp of her bra free. The scrap of fabric fell down her arms. A light breeze hardened her achy nipples into stiff peaks. Her body hummed with awareness. Calla closed her eyes as Nathan massaged her breasts with a soft but firm grip.

To read more about Calla and her naughty fantasy, check out these links:

Amazon – http://amzn.to/25yXk0z

Barnes and Noblehttp://bit.ly/1U9bDQZ

ARe – http://bit.ly/1XN1Hio

Kobohttp://bit.ly/1WXe1NY

Resplendence Publishing – http://bit.ly/25O5bHJ

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30325866-calla-s-summer-fantasy

Join me next Thursday when we meet romance author Trvann Rogers.  ~Tina

AuThursday – Amber Daulton

Please welcome my fellow Resplendence author, Amber Daulton.  You’ve written so many books, how do you find the time?

I write whenever and as often as possible, but it can be difficult. Trust me. I’ve had nine books published so far and there are several more collecting digital dust on my computer. I don’t have children—so no distractions there—but my cats are demanding little creatures and I have to appease them. My hubby is the cook in the household so luckily I don’t have to worry about fixing my meals. I just keep on writing, usually with a cat on my lap.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

It depends on the length I plan to write, the research I need to do and the amount of edits each book will need. On average, I can usually churn out a novella (say 15 to 35k WC) in maybe a month or so. For a full-length novel (80k plus), around three or four months.

You write in multiple genres, what draws you to each genre, do you have a favorite?

I love so many sub-genres of romance. It’s hard to choose a favorite but I’d probably have to pick contemporary or paranormal. Since some stories and characters only work in certain settings, I try to read a wide variety of books to get a feel of all the flavors so to speak. In essence, I write the same way.

Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?

I tend to write late into the night, sleep late in the day and do it again. My muse really comes alive at the witching hour. Sometimes I have to put aside my precious WIPs and clean. *Grrr* Why can’t the laundry do itself?

How do you think you’ve evolved creatively?

I’ve been writing since I was twelve and, when looking back at my old attempts, I flush in embarrassment. But hey, everyone starts somewhere. My stories have become much more complex over the years. I still like to write the boy-meets-girl storyline but it’s not simple and dry. There’s danger, death, divorce, betrayal and lies, real human emotion in all the characters, even the minor ones. Every little detail adds to the H/h’s relationship. I can’t take anything for granted when it comes to creating a character’s world but it took me a while to realize that.

What is the hardest thing about writing?

The hardest thing for me is deciding on character names. Now, that might not sound like a big deal, but the names have to fit with the characters I see in my mind perfectly. I feel stumped and lose my creativity if I assign a name to someone and it just doesn’t feel right. I usually choose the names based on their personality, physical characteristics, family dynamics/heritage, the time period of the novel or just what I find sexy! I sometimes spend hours, if not days, just scouring through baby name books and websites for the best names.

 What are you working on at the minute?

I’m in the process of writing the final book in my Arresting Onyx series. The sexy, dirty-talking contemporary romance series spans five books with a standalone HEA for each rough-and-tumble hero and their spunky heroines. The first book is out on call and I hope to have it picked up soon.

 Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

I absolutely love talking to readers. They can find me here:

Blogsite – http://amberdaultonauthor.blogspot.com/

Facebook Author Page – www.facebook.com/amber.daulton.author

Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmberDaulton1

Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/amberdaulton5/

Goodreads – www.goodreads.com/author/show/6624921.Amber_Daulton

Amazon Author Page – http://amzn.to/14JoZff

Resplendence Publishing, LLC. – http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/

Saturday Sexcerpt – Finish What you Started by Kathryn Lively

About the Book – Finish What You Started

In this business, it gets hot under the spotlight…

Once a teen idol, Gabby Randall now spends her time behind the camera. With her show Danse Macabre scripted and a greenlit for a popular streaming site, she has everything she wants…except her star. Deadlines are looming and she’s desperate to cast the role of a modern-day, motorcycle-riding Grim Reaper. She never thought she’d end up hiring her former co-star, TV’s most beloved geek…and her ex-husband.

Until the day he dies, people will remember Dash Gregory as Freddie ‘Grody’ Grodin, the token geek friend of the cool kids at Wondermancer High. After years of casting agents overlooking him for plum roles, Dash wants to show Hollywood he’s more than a one-note player. He’s ready to break the vicious typecasting cycle, and he’s set his sights on the lead role in a sexy new series too hot for network TV.

When the director yells “Cut!” the star wants to keep up the action behind the scenes. Are Dash and Gabby willing to make rating history again?

About the Author

Kathryn Lively is an award-winning writer and editor, avid Whovian, and Rush (the band) fan. She loves chocolate and British crisps and is still searching for a good US dealer of Japanese Kit Kat bars.

Kathryn is a regular contributor to the Sexy To Go authors group and enjoys the outdoors, when she’s able to get out.

fwys

Copyright © Kathryn Lively 2016. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.

April, 2006, Las Vegas

Gabby Randall stood at the window of their fifteenth-floor suite at the Fitzgerald Hotel and Casino, looking out at the blinding lights of Fremont Street. Thousands of them, maybe a million, blinked in rapid succession, simulating waves and fireworks and starbursts in colors she hadn’t realized existed. Down and to her right, a two-story tall neon cowboy winked and waved to passersby from his perch at the Pioneer Club. Bright yellow piping outlined his checkered shirt and knowing leer, and if Gabby moved one inch to one side or the other she could swear his eyes took on a sinister glow.

He stared at her, accusing her, as though to say Shame on you, girlie. Eloping without telling nobody. She wanted to turn away, but his eyes proved too hypnotic to resist.

“Shut up. I’m an adult,” she muttered, and blinked to break the spell. The cowboy had a name. The clerk at registration had said as much, but it’d gone right out of her head, replaced by choruses of nearby jingling slot machines as Dash had given him two fake names and paid cash for the room.

She looked past the neon smirk and studied the vibrant patterns of one hotel’s marquee. A thought occurred to her about the lights—how would anyone know to check for burnouts and replace the bulbs if the signs ran twenty-four-seven? Did the hotels each hire a specific person to stand on bulb duty? Were they like Christmas light strands, in that if one was faulty then the whole thing didn’t light up?

Why she pondered this, of all things one wondered about Vegas, she didn’t know. She took a deep breath and decided that her mind chose to focus on inane observations to calm her nerves.

It had less to do with coming to a strange city than it did with this being her first night alone with Dash. Her first night alone with any man, for that matter.

She’d never visited Las Vegas before, though she’d entertained a number of invitations from event planners. Her parents and managers, as devout in their Catholicism as their business savvy, had refused on her behalf time and again. No conventions or junkets unsanctioned by the network, or them, for her. Definitely, they didn’t want her involved in a cheesy celebrity magic show or publicity stunt. Vegas might as well have been situated on the outer rim of Hell.

Now, their say mattered little. She’d turned twenty-one the previous week, on the same day her contract with Randall Talent had expired. Marie and Walter might remain family, but they no longer made decisions for her, business or otherwise. This included her most important one to date—her wedding to Dash Gregory.

Gregory. She was Gabby Gregory now. Or perhaps she should hyphenate to Randall-Gregory, and use her given name, Gabrielle. Maybe that would make her appear mature, and more professional when she met with prospective agents to help her transition from TV ingénue to a place behind the camera.

In her left hand she held the current issue of People Magazine, the cover of which featured her with the other five principals of Wondermancer High, the television show that had served as her work and home for the past six years. In her right, a marriage certificate affirming her union with Dash Gregory bent in her tightening grip. It had happened only an hour ago, and if she brought the paper closer she could smell the printer ink. Her thumb brushed the black-marker signature of the minister, a middle-aged Johnny Cash impersonator with authentic sideburns and a paunch. Dash had insisted using a fake Elvis seemed too cliché, and that his late father—a Cash fan—would have gotten a kick out of it.

Gabby had conceded easily. She’d have stood before a showgirl in all her ostrich plumage and glitter if it meant a legitimate marriage. The Cash impersonator hadn’t recognized either of them, which was good. He didn’t fit their show’s demographic, and apparently he didn’t have a teenager who forced him to sit in front of the set every Thursday evening at eight.

She set the license on the nightstand to prevent further creases, then focused on the magazine. Good Luck, Graduates! read the headline, in reference to the series finale due to air next month. Sadness barely touched her as she recalled the emotion and angst which had pervaded the set when they’d filmed their final scenes. Relief was more like it. She’d played the part of Tula Truebend for six seasons, and as far as the country knew, her real life mirrored that of the prim, straight-A student aspiring to the upper echelons of the magical world. Hardly. Her grades, passable enough to let her continue acting, wouldn’t get her into Harvard. She hadn’t planned on college, anyway.

With the series behind her now, she couldn’t wait to pursue a career as a screenwriter and producer—to create rather than regurgitate. First order of business—develop a project for Dash.

Of the six main actors on the paranormal-set show—created to capitalize on the success of the Harry Potter franchise—her new husband stood to suffer the most typecasting. While she’d played the brain, a pretty one to boot, he’d been the token geek. Glasses, perpetually bent wand, goofy laugh, and no fashion sense. The showrunners had neglected all requests to mature Freddie Grodin toward the end of the run, leaving ‘Grody’ to remain a beloved yet awkward and inept nerd in the eyes of Wondermancer High fans.

She promised herself Dash would have a long acting career, and not in variations of the same role. What the hell was taking so long with him, anyway? He’d gone for water…had he tried the Hoover Dam first?

The handle of their room’s door jerked and rattled, startling her. On instinct, she clutched the full-length robe she wore tighter around her chest. When they’d stood exposed on Fremont Street, walking from the chapel to the hotel, she’d fretted over possible discovery from fans and paparazzi. Instead people had brushed past them, oblivious. Only in a city like this could that happen, she realized.

“Finally,” Dash muttered and entered the room. “I hate these damn keycards. They only work half the time.” A plastic bag, heavy with bottles and snacks, hung from his forearm, and he wore his favorite Dodgers cap pulled low over his face. Gabby smiled upon seeing it, especially since Dash really didn’t need to wear it to conceal his identity. Without the taped-up glasses and slicked-back hair the world saw on Grody each week, Dash as himself resembled nothing of the character he played. She envied his ability to roam free.

No, Dash was gorgeous with his clear blue eyes and a hint of stubble shadowing his firm jaw. He removed the cap and ruffled his short hair, adding to his adorably scruffy look.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she told him, and approached him for a hug. “I don’t like being here by myself.”

“Hey.” He took the magazine from her and set it next to the license, then enveloped her in his arms. He felt safe, warm. “It’s okay. Didn’t I tell you we’d be all right? It’s official, we’re married, and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

“I keep thinking somebody saw us downstairs.” Visions bloomed in her mind of photographers stalking each floor of the hotel, disguising themselves as room service. Fans pulling out their cell phones or running for the nearest pay phone to tell their friends, or worse, announce it to the world via their MySpace pages and that new site, Twitter. Guess what…we saw Tula and Grody in Vegas! Why would they be here, checking into the same hotel room? Ooooh!

Friends tell other friends. Somebody knows a guy at the Enquirer. He calls his contact in Vegas. Somebody calls her parents…in three seconds the SWAT team will kick down their door…

“Gabby, you’re shaking.”

“I just want to be a married person for one night without the world knowing about it.”

Dash chuckled. It vibrated throughout her body, making her very aware of him. The robe slipped open and her breasts, hidden by a sheer layer of satin and lace, pressed against his body when he drew her against him. Her nipples hardened, anticipating his touch.

They hadn’t seen this much of each other during the year they’d secretly dated. They’d kissed, a lot, and enjoyed a quick grope over clothes in between scenes. She’d saved it all for tonight.

“We’re fine, Gabby,” he assured her. “We could walk the whole Strip tonight and nobody is going to notice us. There’s enough in Vegas to distract people. In fact,” he pulled away and she whimpered, “I thought we might stay an extra night.”

“But we’re going to New York tomorrow.” An outsider might have viewed their wedding as spontaneous, but they’d put a fair amount of planning into this week. Marry in Vegas, then off to Manhattan to shop for an apartment. Stage and TV auditions for Dash while she met with agents to discuss her ideas for projects.

“I know, but you deserve a proper honeymoon, however short. It’s not like we’re broke and have to go back to work immediately.”

“I know.” Assuming Wondermancer High enjoyed a long life in syndication, they wouldn’t have to work again with their combined income if they budgeted well. She wanted to work, though, and intended to distance herself from Tula Truebend.

He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes. The white Polo he’d worn for the ceremony came next, discarded onto the carpet. Dash stretched his arms to the ceiling and Gabby marveled at the definition in his muscles. She couldn’t wait to trace every ridge and curve.

“I was thinking we’d go see Celine or Elton, or Cirque du Soleil,” he continued, shucking his pants and socks. Clad in his boxers, he scooted back to lie on the bed. “I’ll get tickets for whatever you want. I got the room for two nights either way, and New York isn’t going anywhere.”

He patted the vacant side of the mattress and eyed her standing form. The robe’s belt had come loose, exposing her legs and the red baby-doll barely covering her thighs.

“I’m not going anywhere, either,” he added.

“Good.” The robe slid to the floor, and Gabby crawled up the bed and moved flush against her new groom. Dash slanted his mouth over hers, and she melted into his embrace, sinking deeper into bed as he rolled closer. She explored the smooth planes of his back on down to his cotton shorts, where she longed to discover his better assets. Limbs twined, fingers plucked at straps and elastic bands, all the while she let her husband plunder her mouth with his tongue. She tasted the coffee they’d shared earlier and a hint of mint gum, clearly used to mask the strong drink.

She’d never felt happier, being with Dash. She was ready to put Tula Truebend behind her and act her age. She’d reveled in the simple act of buying this skimpy lingerie for her wedding night, enjoying shopping like a “grown up.”

Her parents had kept her under constant watch during the show’s run, having everything done for her. They’d paid her bills, chosen her outfits, and watched her diet. No more. She wouldn’t think about them tonight.

The straps of her baby-doll drooped down her shoulders, freeing her body. Dash broke from her lips and kissed a trail to one breast, circling the nipple with his tongue. She shivered at the sensation, as though he set her every nerve ablaze with his touch.

He looked up with glazed eyes and a swollen smile. “Did you…?”

She nodded, and her silent affirmation that she’d taken her pill sufficed. She’d gotten the prescription in secret last month, in anticipation of their marriage.

Dash returned to her breasts for a full-on assault, nipping one while kneading the other. He shifted over her, allowing her to feel the fullness of his arousal. Gabby relaxed and let him take over. His every thrust against her sex, while still in his boxers, sparked her desire, readying her to become his in every sense of the word.

No, she thought, we’ll belong to each other. When the shorts and her lacy thong came off and he entered her with one slow, guided stroke, she bit her lip to avoid crying out and focused on Dash above her, burying his face into the crook of her neck, cooing his reassurance that he would take care of her.

“You okay?” he whispered, his warm breath roaring in her ear.

“Fantastic. Are you?”

“Yeah.” He laughed, giddy like, and pushed into her again. The pain subsided the longer they lay joined, but when he reached down for her clit she cried out. She was no stranger to self-pleasure, but having Dash touch her in this way brought her to climax much quicker than she had ever accomplished alone.

“Wow.” He laughed.

“Sorry about that.” She’d wanted to last, but his kiss soothed her guilt.

“I love you, babe,” he said, and after a second his body shuddered. He bore down on top of her, and Gabby looked down his back to see his cute ass bob faster as he filled her. The increased motion dizzied her senses, and the heat enveloping her took her breath away. She wanted to return the sentiment, tell him she loved him as much, but the words caught in her throat.

Instead, she focused on them and tried something she’d read about in a how-to manual. With him deep inside her she tightened around him and thrust. Oh, that’s nice.

Dash reared upward, his face pinched with pleasured pain, and cried out as he released. The warmth blossomed inside her, and they kissed away their afterglow, their hands sliding across dampened skin and fisting the sheets.

I love you. The words looped in her mind, and she hoped their connection strengthened enough for him to hear it.

Dash pulled away and they touched foreheads. His lashes brushed hers and he shook with quiet laughter. “I can’t wait until bedtime every night, if it’s like this.”

She almost made a Wondermancer High joke—It’s nothing like the dorms at Huntington Hall. Instead she nodded and kissed his nose. No references to the past, she decided. They weren’t Tula and Grody, who only spoke to each other when Tula needed him to get her boyfriend out of a scrape.

She was Mrs. Gregory. Now and forever.

She took the comforting realization to sleep, Dash spooning her as they turned on their sides toward the window looking out onto Fremont Street.

“What do you think?” he whispered in her ear. “Stay an extra day.”

“Sure.” She’d prefer to spend all their time here.

She snuggled against her husband and watched what lights were visible until she drifted away, thankful the neon cowboy couldn’t see them.

Join me next Thursday when I interview my fellow Resplendence Author Amber Daulton. ~Tina

AuThursday – Kathryn Lively

katlivelyTell us a little about yourself and your background?

I have worked in publishing for about a decade now, doing various things. I have written everything from books to greeting card verse, and I have worked as an editor and a publisher. Presently I write fiction – mystery and romance, soon to branch into more genres – and I work in romance ebook marketing.

What is the hardest thing about writing?

For me, it’s settling down and getting into a place – physically and mentally – to do it. When you have so many hands on your time, you tend to drift in other directions. I find I can’t say no when people want help, and I have to learn to be selfish.

What is the easiest thing about writing?

Once I get into a story, into the zone, I just do it. The dialogue and actions come to me, and the characters come alive. All it takes is a moment to get into the book.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

It will vary. I’ve completed first drafts in 3-4 months; others have taken longer. My first book probably took over a year to complete.

Do you ever get writer’s Block?

I suppose I do, but I prefer to call it Writer’s Fatigue. There are days where I don’t write simply because I don’t have the mental energy. It happens usually after I’ve finished a big project. I have to take some time off to recharge.

Did you receive any rejection letters, and if so how did you handle them?

Oh, yes. I could paper a house with them. In the beginning, it used to upset me, but now it’s part of the circle of a writer’s life. I find not all the rejections are based on the quality of writing; there are different factors at play.

Can you tell us your story of getting the call?

It’s kind of a bittersweet story – this was in the late 90s. I had submitted an inspirational novel to a new publisher looking for work. I actually received a phone call with the offer to publish. The publisher was very nice and enthusiastic. I recall I was happy because earlier I had an “almost” but ultimately the first publisher couldn’t get the funding.

After my book came out, however, I soon learn the publisher I went with lacked experience and reneged on a number of points. After 9/11 they decided to shut down altogether and I never got my final royalty check.

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Write, revise, write. Think of publishing as a marathon, not a sprint. Your time will come.

Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

Subscribe to Kathryn Lively’s mailing list for news on eBook sales and new releases from Kat and other romance authors. Copy and paste to join:  http://eepurl.com/bq-RML

Visit Kat Online!

Website: www.KathrynLively.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/kathrynlively

Twitter: www.twitter.com/MsKathrynLively

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/KathrynLively

Join me on Saturday when we read an excerpt from Kathryn’s latest release, “Finish What you Started” ~Tina

AuThursday – Miguelina Perez

Tell us a little about yourself and your background?

Originally born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. I first discover romance reading during my years in High School. I discovered Barbara Cartland, then Victoria Holt and Phyllis Whitney. I was hooked. From there I went to Harlequins. Back then they were clean which is what I was allowed to read. I move to the Washington, DC area back in 1985. Moved around a couple of times; including a stint in Texas for three years before coming back here. I used to have these little stories form in my head, but never knew what to do with them. Until one day I started hearing authors talking about the stories within them wanting to be written, I realized that I had been experiencing the same thing since I was very young. One written line led to another and then another line till I had a completed novel. I began with poems, prose and then short stories. By then I was confident I could write a full-length novel. Hence the Vicar’s Deadly Sin was born.

I am also the coordinator for the Lady Jane’s Salon Silver Spring. A gathering that takes place 8 times of the year where I invite local romance authors to read from their latest releases. We meet at the La Madeline’s in Bethesda, Maryland. It is my hope to connect readers and writers. Right now it is on hiatus but I hope to bring it back soon. I need to work on a way to bring readers in. So when not working, I am writing and doing anything that involves the writing romance world.

Which writers inspire you?

I love Nora Roberts and was honored to have met her twice at a picnic in her home. I have come meet some real talented and gifted ladies in my journeys to authorhood that have inspired me: Sally MacKenzie, Leigh Duncan, Mary Behre, Harper Kincaid, Ingrid Hahn, TW Knight…I can go on and on. I have been very fortunate.

So, what have you written? 

I have an anthology out called Pieces of Me, these contain short stories, prose, poems and essays. My romance regency mystery is now out called The Vicar’s Deadly Sin.

What genre are your books?

Right now VDS is a Regency romance mystery. It is called The Lady Jane Bartholomew and Miss Margaret Renard Mystery, Book 1 of the Seven Deadly Sins series.

What are you working on at the minute?

I am working now on the sequel to VDS called Angel’s Lust, The Lady Jane Bartholomew and Miss Margaret Renard Mystery, Book 2 of the Seven Deadly Sins series. AL will have a little of paranormal elements in it.

What’s it about?

A new force is in town and young maidens are going missing and being sacrificed. The young ladies are up to their investigative snooping, but this time around, Jane newly engaged does not have her heart in it-she is focused on her upcoming wedding to Sir Hugh Cameron. So Margaret is the one trying to find out what is going on.

What is the hardest thing about writing?

Finding the time when you work full-time. But what really gets me is people telling me to write within the constraints of what a publishing house dictates you should write. For example, Random House was interested in VDS and when they asked where is the sex? I said it didn’t have any. VDS is sort of a Jane Austen meets Nancy Drew. That quickly closed my pitching of the novel. I totally understand readers want sex, but VDS was never that type of novel. So after beta readers and more beta readers, and then getting an affordable editor, I published it.

What is the easiest thing about writing?

When you have the scenes in your head and you transform them into the paper. Writer’s block can be a true pain, so I try not to let it control me. Writing your story – When the characters come to life and you create the world in which they live in and interact with the secondary characters.

Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

I have several sites. The main one is www.miguelinaperezauthor.com. I have another site where I do author interviews and reviews, www.theregencyinkwell.wordpress.com, but it has taken a side trip since I am trying to market VDS and finish book 2.

Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share with us?

Sure:

The Vicar’s Deadly Sin

A Touch of Romance…A Touch of Regency…A Touch of Murder… Lady Jane Bartholomew and Miss Margaret Renard have been friends since the age of twelve. Together they share their dreams, hopes and a love for reading. However, it is their wild imagination and a penchant for solving mysteries that will test their abilities when the Vicar of Dover is found murdered. The young ladies are joined by two gentlemen, also eager to find the murderer in order to prove to the ladies that detecting is a man’s job, though the gentlemen find their beauty, wit, and pride more troublesome than solving a murder. The Vicar’s Deadly Sin is a delightful and witty Regency romance mystery about two friends and their love for solving crimes while keeping society and its rules at bay.

Join me next Thursday when I interview writer Kathryn Lively. ~Tina

Saturday Excerpt – Morgaine LaFey and the Viking by Kimbra Kasch

fb_img_1473036508813“I’d love to share…(an excerpt)… and I hope you love it” – Kimbra Kasch

BLURB

Travel across oceans, continents, and countries to discover the story of legendary Viking hero, Holger Danske, and his magical romance with King Arthur’s half-sister in Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking

This is the story of two warriors who never thought they’d find love, especially on the battlefield, yet standing poised against each other Morgaine and Holger face an attraction more powerful than any sword, stronger than any warrior and more magical than all the powers of Merlin.
EXCERPT OF MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING

FOREWORD

This is an old story told from a totally different perspective. This is a Viking’s tale.

MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING is a legendary romance filled with honorable Knights from King Arthur’s Round Table, Salacious Pirates, and Brutal Vikings. This is the retelling of the romance between King Arthur’s half-sister, Morgaine Le Fay, and her epic lover, the Viking Prince of Denmark and heir to King Geoffrey’s throne, Holger Danske. And though you might think you know these characters from the British stories, this tale comes from an entirely different point of view. The Viking perspective.

Everyone knows of Excalibur and King Arthur but few know of his brother-in-law, the Danish Viking Prince and warrior Holger Danske or his sword Cortana. MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING is a mature Young Adult retelling of folklore legend and Danish leader, Holger Danske, and his magical romance with the sorceress Princess Morgaine Le Fay.

They met on a battlefield, poised against each other, but their attraction was more powerful than any sword, stronger than any warrior and more magical than Merlin, yet theirs is a tale more tragic than Romeo and Juliet.

Weaving the stories from English, French and Danish together this is one slice from the rich tapestry of tales that have come together throughout time and history.

While most everyone who searches for tales of the middle ages and seeks out stories of Knights and battles, castles and magical swords, they will only find the stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Yet, it is only with the help of the Viking warrior Holger Danske of Denmark and Charles the Great (a.k.a Charlemagne of France) that King Arthur beat back the Saxons and retained leadership of Camelot.

Amidst these battles and legends, Morgaine Le Fay is worthy of her own stand-alone stories for she was such a strong woman everyone believed her to be a sorceress or more than human. Some said she was half fairy because she rode with the men in battle and was more than willing to take enormous risks for the men she loved.

Some believe she was the most powerful sorceress in all of history, having tutored under the guidance of Merlin and quickly surpassing his abilities. But it is her tragic love story with the Danish Prince that forms this first story in the Viking Series: MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING.

Morgaine’s true love, the Viking Norse leader and legendary warrior, is immortalized in stone in the dungeons of Hamlet’s Castle on the shore that sits between the sound of Denmark and Sweden.danish-flag-at-hamlets-castle

But there is much more to this tale than a simple love story.

King Arthur received his magical sword, Excalibur, from the Norse Goddess, also known as The Lady of the Lake but Excalibur was not the only magical sword she ever relinquished to mortal hands. She gave just such a magical sword to the Danish Prince, Holger, and one to the French King, Charlemagne. Together these three heroic men joined forces to fight side by side. Britain, France and Scandinavia battled back the invading Saxons.

I am married to a Dane who was born and raised in Denmark, and have visited the Castle of Kronborg in Helsingør, Denmark and viewed the statue Holger Danske in the casemates. I have also visited both England and France and tried to stay true to the themes of all three legends, (from Denmark-Holger Danske, England-King Arthur, and France-Charlemagne), while weaving them together. However, I have taken artistic liberties with language and in dramatizing the tale of The Viking Princess.

There is an entire world full of rich stories about epic battles that go far beyond King Arthur’s realm and other countries hold their legendary heroes in this same high regard. This is one such story.

***

FIRST SIGHT

Morgaine’s head was held high, her back straight, with her chin jutted forward, as she rode like a warrior into battle. Covered in shiny mail, she sat upon her lively white steed, much like a nobleman, but no one could be mistaken. One glance and anyone could see simply by looking at her, this was a fine lady, with skin as smooth as silk and clear as a summer day, her russet curls plaited and twined around her head, forming a crown of braids befitting a high-born princess.

Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the harsh morning light, she turned toward the mountains, searching for a sign. Something. Anything.

Nothing was there. Still she sat, waiting.

It was after sunset when the shadows finally shifted across the horizon. That’s when she noticed the dark silhouettes of men. Not peasants. These were broad-backed warriors on horseback, sitting outlined against the blood-red moon. They were moving closer, nearer to battle.

Arthur did not want his sister on the front lines. “You should be in the background working your magic,” he insisted, hoping she would heed his pleas.

She threw her head up in defiance and gave a little snort. “Never,” she insisted.

His voice took on an authoritative tone. “I am the King,” he reminded her with a frown etched over his face. She turned to grin at him, “Did you think I could forget?”

With a heavy sigh, he went on, “It is not as a King that I am asking, but as your brother. I cannot bear the thought of you being hurt for me. I want you in the background, not on the forefront of battle.”

She shook her head, and then reached across the gap between them. She ran her palm over his cheek. “Do not waste your worry. You know, death holds no fear for me.”

“Perhaps,” he nodded. “But there are worse things than death. Please sister, if only for my sake, move to the back and do not separate yourself from us—I beg of you.” He tried to convince her not to ride forward from the front lines, but she wouldn’t listen.

“Do not even think of it,” she said, with that familiar look of determination in her eyes and the stubborn tone Arthur had become so acquainted with. Pulling back on her reins, she danced her horse around him. “I am a symbol for the men to look upon. I must move about for all to see.”

And no matter how much he wanted to deny it, they both knew she was right. Sitting out in front of the knights, she made an unforgettable impression.

“But you can inspire from anywhere, it need not be the frontline,” he insisted.

She shook her head, disregarding his warning as she rode ahead to act as the King’s guard over her brother. Sitting proud and tall, she fully intended to protect him from the onslaught that was about to begin. Arthur was transfixed. She was more beautiful than ever. An angel blanketed in shadows but edged in starlight, no man on the battlefield would ever forget her face.

She felt the fire burning inside her belly. The cry of war rising up into her heart, she wanted nothing more than to ride.

As the men moved nearer, she raised her hand, stopping Arthur’s men—holding them back, “Wait for my signal,” she called out, “Steady!” Finally reaching up over her head, she dropped her sword across her body as the moonlight glistened on the shiny steel, blinding the men riding toward them into battle.

Morgaine let out a laugh that echoed over the field as she galloped forward, and then immediately she swung her mare away from the men. Standing out alone and off to the side, she was a vision…

Suddenly time stood still. She was frozen, as a warrior on their frontline came into view. His arm raised up over his head, sword in hand, he led the charge against her, against Arthur, and against all the people of Camelot. He was a brute of a man and her attention was riveted.

There was no turning away; he was all she saw, all she noticed. Opening his mouth, he let out a roar as he rode straight toward her, this man with the golden mane.

The moonlight shimmered down on him. His browned skin glistened and his hair gleamed like an autumn jewel beneath the starlight. Suddenly she was reminded of hot summer days and amber pebbles washed up on the white sandy shores. Fascinated, she was spellbound by his glowing skin beneath the fading evening sun.

She was mesmerized.

Shaking her head to clear the fog inside her mind, she readied herself for his blow. Raising her shield, she steeled herself.

He was a giant among men, with ten times the form of any god she could imagine.

Was it possible? Was this an illusion? Could he be real?

His sapphire eyes found hers, locking on her lilac orbs, and a blinding heat struck her like a bolt of lightning. She could not turn away. His sword raised high in the air, his shield barely covering his broad chest, she stared at his form. A rush of fire raced through her, as she sat still watching this man ride with such a majestic carriage.

Giddy and out of breath, her heart beat faster than she could ever recall.

What was happening here? What magic was this? She wondered at her own body, feeling dizzy as a young maiden at her first games. Someone must have cast a spell. She turned her head, searching for the Viking sorcerer performing this magic.

There was none.

She had never had this reaction to any man. No. Morgaine had never had this reaction to anyone.

Her breath caught in her chest, and she could barely breathe. The air was trapped inside her throat, choking her. She had to cough to force the air back into her lungs.

This man could not be human. He was either a devil or a demon, she was sure of it and yet he had signaled his men into the battle before he veered off to the side, riding straight toward the sorceress with the flaming locks. His mouth was open as he let out a warrior chant she had never heard before.

Another spell, she told herself, an incantation—perhaps the same one he cast upon the knights and warriors.

She turned to her side, to see how her men were holding up under this magic.

It could not be.

His words had no effect on them. They were not under his spell. Their swords were unsheathed, raised, and ready to do battle. The knight beside her let out a thunderous cry, spurring his horse faster, as they rode past her into the throng of bare-chested men with the horns upon their heads.

Her steed moved forward, but she did nothing more than hold on to the reins as her mare carried her into the field of battle and straight toward the magic man. She was unprepared, mesmerized, and out of control…

Opposite each other they rode, one toward the other. She saw him motion to his men to continue riding forward as he veered further off to the side…to make his way straight toward her.

In a matter of moments, he was upon her. Sweeping up beside her like the blast of a storm, he stole her breath away. His thickly muscled arm snaked out away from his body, striking before she could do a thing or even before she realized what had happened. But there was no pain. It was not with a thrust of his sword that he struck, it was only his arm. Quickly twisting, he shifted his weight to make room for her. His powerful arm wrapped around her waist, grabbing her with the strength of the ocean’s tide, he pulled her toward him.

Morgaine sat motionless as a statue in the garden; she offered no resistance. Instead, she simply slid sideways from her horse onto his. It happened in one swift motion.

Pressing his palm flat against her belly, he held her in place, tightly nestled in front of him. She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck, caressing her face. Her hands fell limp to her side, accidently brushing against the hot flesh of his thigh. His skin burned beneath her fingertips.

The heat rose from her hands to her chest, and a small gasp escaped her lips as she let her hands rest upon his thickly muscled leg. He chuckled low in his throat and she knew he understood the effect he was having on her senses.

Pressing his firm rippled chest into her back, she felt something she had never felt before…lust.

She could do nothing to resist him. Leaning back, she drank in the strong, musky scent of him and felt her head spin. He held her steady and still.

Another mesmerizing potion, she thought, his spicy scent must be the mixture of a wizard’s tonic, worn to hypnotize his enemies.

Unable to fight the strength of his powerful magic, she succumbed. His tantalizing aroma made her want nothing more than to be with him, alone

AuThursday – Kimbra Kasch

kim-kasch-2016Please welcome Romance Writer Kimbra Kasch.  Kimbra, do you work to an outline or plot or do you prefer to see where an idea takes you?

I’ve never been a person who could follow a recipe when cooking or writing. I add a pinch of something here and a dash of spice there; I have to go with the moment and what I think will “taste” good at the moment. It’s the same with writing. I have to go where my heart leads me.

What was the hardest thing about writing your latest book, Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking?

 

Staying true to the legend(s). Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking involves King Arthur, his half-sister, Charlemagne of France and Holger Danske. So, I wanted to stay true to the themes of France’s King, Britain’s legends, and Denmark’s. It took a lot of research.

What is the easiest thing about writing?

The romance. Love is an easy path to take and the most fun…

Do you read much and if so who are your favorite authors?

I LOVE Stephen King, Charlaine Harris, Mary Janice Davidson, Poe and dozens of others. That’s a question like asking me what flavor of ice cream is my favorite: rocky road, coffee, chocolate, Cherry Garcia, I could go on and on.

How do you relax?

Reading, writing, knitting, baking, running, playing tennis, hiking, sewing, … The real question is how do I NOT relax… ;D

What is your favorite motivational phrase?

It’s something like this from Mother Teresa: I know God never gives us more than we can handle. Sometimes I just wish he didn’t have so much confidence in me.

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Write because you love telling stories. Write because you love reading and writing. Just write.

Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

Purchase Links:

You can find my book here:  https://www.amazon.com/Morgaine-Fey-Vikings-Kimbra-Kasch-ebook/dp/B01L88QPTW/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1473136773

KIM’S AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE:

http://www.amazon.com/Kim-Kasch/e/B00ZOAUKMO/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Website: https://www.kimkasch.com

https://www.kimbrakasch.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/15278287-kimbra-kasch

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIt0EKLYjrbM_FRnPP1JXdw

Blog: https://www.kimkasch.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100009489617484

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kimkasch

Google+: https://aboutme.google.com/u/0/#profile_photo

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kimkasch/

Linkedin:  https://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=AAIAAAGF2pwBVg-AKJf0oZ1xQgzY1oFTZ2yaAcY&trk=nav_responsive_tab_profile_pic

Plus, on Instagram @kasch.kim

Join me on Saturday when we read an excerpt from Kim’s latest release, Morgaine LeFay and the Viking.  ~Tina

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