Saturday, March 28, 2015

Father, Lover, Husband - Some Times the Men in Our Lives Can Be a Pain



Amanda has been married twice. Both are dead. Another man wants to marry her but twice burn she's not excited about the idea.

Doesn't help that her father is the one that has arranged the marriage.

Excerpt -

“Where do you plan on living? His house or yours?” Dee’s question was interrupted when the bell over the door sounded again. She glanced in that direction. Her jaw clenched. “Don’t look now, but I think you have more trouble headed your way.”

Amanda didn’t have to turn to see who’d come through the door. She knew by the loud rumble of the man’s voice. “Hey, neighbor.”

She balled her hands into fists. “Pickled herons, I could have gone all day without seeing that man and been happy.”

Her father greeted Dee from across the room. “Dee, my darling child, bring your dear grand pappy a pint.”
Dee smiled and walked to the bar, where a drink was already waiting for Seth Butterfield. The local bartender knew Seth’s likes. Amanda's father probably came into the cafĂ© everyday.


Read the first scene on my website.
http://www.anitaphilmar.com/bdbchapter.html

Anita
www.anitaphilmar.com

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Her Destiny is to Spread the Light...Can She? @NNP_W_Light



Title: Princess of the Light
Author: N. N. Light
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance, Christian Fantasy, Inspirational Fiction
Release Date: September 2, 2014
Blurb:
Gabriel, the Archangel and Messenger of God - yeah, that Gabriel - visits Mary Miller. He tells her, as the key, she is destined to spread the Light and vanquish the Darkness. Her first assignment is to restore the soul of the Walking Man. Sounds simple enough -- until she’s thrown into the face of evil. And then, Joe Deacons enters her heart. This battle just got a lot more complicated. She must complete her mission without losing all she loves.
Excerpt:
As she led me to the back of the store, I tried to switch off my desire and concentrate on the task at hand. Focus, Joe! Decorum! The inner jokes weren't helping. They just wanted to make me giggle like a schoolboy, and I doubted that would help matters much.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment while I tried to remember the books I came for.
She was driving me crazy! I shook my head like a wet dog for what seemed like the twentieth time and asked God for some help.
Suddenly she sidestepped and tripped. I reached out and caught her. As soon as my fingertips touched her, my whole being seemed to be on fire. You've gone completely insane, Joe. Maybe, I really had been working too hard lately.
Mary blushed and stammered, "I'm so, so s-s-sorry about that. There was, um, a stroller blocking the aisle."
"Yes, I saw that."
I knew I had to let go of her. When I did, she whirled around, stammering more of an apology. It took every ounce of my willpower not to bend down and kiss her. I should have taken that nap.
To keep from kissing her, I made a joke. "And here I thought you just wanted me to catch you in my arms to break the ice." I hesitated and then added, "It worked." Her light-hearted laugh made me wish I knew more jokes.
She cleared her throat, and turned back to where they were heading.
Once in front of the architecture books, Mary said, "If you need any further assistance, please don't hesitate to ask." Then she stepped back and smiled politely.
"Thank you for your help," I said, and wished I could think of something else to say to stall her.
As she walked away, I thought, I could watch you all day. I didn't realize I was grinning until my cheeks suddenly felt sore.


Buy Links:
Goodreads:

Newsletter:
Sign up for my monthly newsletter to get writing and marketing tips, updates and free sneak peeks into what I’m working on: http://ymlp.com/xghjsueygmgh



Author Bio:
N. N. Light was born in Minnesota, lived in Southern California only to move to chilly Ontario, Canada to marry her beloved husband MR N. She is blissfully happy and loves all things chocolate, books, music, movies, art, sports and baking. She has been telling stories since the age of five and her mantra is to spread the Light.  Most of the time you can find her on Twitter or getting new ideas on how to spread the Light on Pinterest. She is a proud member of ASMSG, Independent Author Network and Marketing for Romance Writers.
Part of the proceeds of Princess of the Light will go directly to food banks in order to feed the hungry and help those in need. With only 7,500 books sold, N. N. Light will be able to set up a monthly endowment for the local food bank.
I’d love to connect with you either via email or via these various social media sites:
iAuthor: http://www.iauthor.uk.com/princess-of-the-light:10294

Thanks for sharing your book with us,

Anita


Monday, March 23, 2015

#EggcerptExchange from How to woo A Reluctant Bride

How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride (Steamy Victorian Short Story) by Lyndi Lamont



Blurb:

A marriage of convience, nothing more...until darkly handsome Evan Channing and demure Lydia Blatchford meet. The rules are simple for an arrangement such as theirs. There should be no misunderstanding, no illusions of anything more. But the rules are about to change...

Lydia wants the kind of love and romance she reads about in books. Fortunately, she hasn't specified which book, and Evan has a copy of Richard Burton's new translation of the Kama Sutra, with its ancient wisdom on love and courtship. He sets out to win his high-born bride, blending seductive heat with exotic lessons in love-making. Lydia is prepared to tolerate this man she’s been sold to, but his scorching kisses send her pulses racing. Can an arranged marriage lead to love?

Excerpt: She broke off at the injured look on his face. "Forgive me, but surely you understand this marriage was never my preference."

He turned away from her and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, I know, but I hoped you had become resigned to it."

"I have. At least I have tried to be," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "That’s why I think it best just to plunge ahead. Once the banns have been read thrice, we can wed almost immediately."

He turned back, a frown still marring his forehead. "Will that give your mother enough time to plan?"

She shrugged. "All I need is a new gown."

"But won’t society think it odd we married in such haste?"

She looked him in the eye. "Let me make one thing clear. I do not give a fig for what society thinks. If you supposed you were marrying a social butterfly, let me banish that notion right now."

He smiled at her. "Harry said you were sensible, but this surprises me. I’m happy to agree to a short engagement." He stepped closer, towering over her. "The sooner I can make you mine, the better."

Her heart pounded and her breath caught as he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers for but a second before backing away. She drew in a deep breath. Her first kiss and it had been over almost before it was begun. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

"Shall we go inside and discuss the wedding plans with your parents?"

"Not yet. There is something else I’d like to say." It was now or never.

"Yes, my dear, what is it?"

She licked her lips then plunged ahead. "I know how these things work. Arranged marriages, that is. I won’t expect fidelity from you."

His shocked expression surprised her. "Is that what you think, Lydia? That I’m marrying you with the intention of cheating on you?"

"Perhaps not now," she said. "But in a few years… It’s not as if ours is a love match. I won’t cut up a fuss if you decide to take a mistress. As long as you are discreet."

"How very... sophisticated of you," he said, his tone dry enough to parch a desert.

She took a deep breath before continuing. "And once I’ve produced the requisite heir and spare, I assume I’ll be free to seek my pleasure elsewhere."

The thunderous look on his face startled her and she stepped back.

"You will do no such thing," he said fiercely, reaching for her. "Our union may not be a love match now, but I fully intend to see it turns into one."

With that, he pulled her into his embrace, trapping her arms between them as his encircled her shoulders and waist.

Before she could say a word, he pulled her into his embrace, trapping her arms between them as his encircled her shoulders and waist. Covering her mouth with his, he kissed her with a heady combination of passion and anger. Her resistance crumbled in the face of his onslaught. She clutched at his lapels and returned his kiss, even parting her lips when his tongue probed them. Overwhelmed by the sensations his lips provoked, she let her eyes drift shut as she clung to him.

When he let her go, he was still visibly upset. "There will be no more talk of infidelity. Have I made myself clear, Lydia?"

How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride is available for only 99 cents at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo and Smashwords. Find Lyndi online at:

Website: http://www.lyndilamont.com

Blog: http://www.lyndilamont.com/blog

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LyndiLamont

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont

Saturday, March 21, 2015

An #EggcerptExchange with Lizzie Starr

Egg-cerpt

Keltic Flight
Double Keltic Triad: Book Three
To the Faerie Gentry of the Otherworld, the fairy wee folk are but a myth and legend. Until the fairy Korin falls in love with a hal-Gentry maid. Foced to bargain with an evil king to woo her, he risks discovery, and his life, to fulfill the conditions. Book Three of the Double Keltic Triad


Korin Goodfellow loves the Gentry maid, Nanceen. In order to woo her, Korin bargains with his evil king, who sets seemingly impossible tasks. The first? She must believe in him.
But the folk of Faerie, the Gentry, don't believe in the odd assortment of beings who make up the wee folk. And definitely not in fairies.
Nanceen doesn't know what she believes. Until Korin calls to her, then makes his way into her world, becoming a wingless man she can see, touch, believe in.
But will the rat king's conditions drive a wedge between them, or force Korin to confrontation, to battle, into risking his life for love?

Excerpt: 
Korin lay back. The leaf dipped with his movement as he reached to one side and snatched at the length of a nearby blade of grass. He tugged until a bit broke off, stuck the end in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. Floating high above him, clouds filled the clear sky. Their flat, gray color matched his mood. He sighed and turned to his side, propped his head on one hand and stretched his wings.

As much as he hated to admit it, the first of his king’s conditions would perhaps be the hardest to meet. It was the only clear requirement listed on the parchment. She must believe in him.

Korin tossed the shredded stem away. There had been a time long ago, even to the fairy, when both humans and the gentry readily believed in the smallest of the sidhe. Even after the human’s religious beliefs forced the gentry underground, then to the Otherworld, the diminutive fairy were honored, or at least remembered, with sweet honey cakes and fresh milk. Korin smacked his lips. It had been a long time since he’d tasted the creamy white ambrosia of milk.

Until humans began to blame the wee folk for their troubles. When aided by the priests, their beliefs in fairies disappeared. But how had the breach with the gentry occurred? Even the legends skirted the issue. There was no history to help him, and Korin was unsure how to proceed. Without Nanceen’s belief in him, fulfilling any of the other conditions would be useless.

Useless. That’s what he was. The niggling doubt became a surety. Somehow, the Fir Dhaerrig had manipulated him. But at what cost?

Korin flopped to his back, wincing as he folded an edge of one wing under him. He adjusted his position and covered his eyes with one forearm. There had to be a way to make Nanceen--no, he could not make her do anything. He would find a way to convince her of his reality. And the existence of his people. One word flashed through his mind. Over and over until the rapid flashes burned behind his closed eyelids. How?

A shadow covered him, cooling his skin. Cautious, he lifted his arm from his eyes and opened them. A face loomed over him. Startled, he scrambled to a sitting position and scooted back until he pressed against the plant stem.

“Hi, bu’fly man.”

The child’s whisper sent waves of relief over him. Occasionally there were children who saw fairies, until adults taught the belief out of them. Sadness followed the relief. If children could only retain their beliefs, perhaps the breach between races would be healed. And he wouldn’t be fighting to claim love from one of the gentry.

A chubby finger moved closer and he held still. Gently, the child touched the tip of one wing and giggled. “Pretty.”

“I thank you, child. How are you called?” At the confusion in her dark brown eyes, Korin asked, 

“What is your name?”

The rosebud mouth formed a silent ‘oh’. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” She giggled again. The clear sound filled Korin with a strange hope. “Who’re you?”

“I am Korin, young mistress.” He rose, bowed deeply, then spread his wings to their fullest.

“Bu’fly man. Kor’n.”

Korin winced at the childish lisping of his name, but cast a brilliant smile to the engaging girl. “Kor-in, young mistress. Are you able to say Kor-in?”

“Kor’n.” Dark brows drew together as she concentrated in forming her mouth around the syllables of his name. “Kor-in.”

A deep chuckle rose from Korin. “You may call me bu’fly man if you wish.” 

art nouveau male fairy brooch by Sliver b3

Visit *lizzie's blog at starrwords

Find out more about Keltic Flight and the tales of the Double Keltic Triad:

  



Thursday, March 19, 2015

The Saxon Bride by Ashley York an #EggcerptExchange Read


Blurb: In war torn England the battle lines between Saxon and Norman are clearly drawn.
Rowena Godwinson, the sole remaining member of the defeated royal family, stands proudly against the Normans that would trample them underfoot. Her nobility and grace,  however, make her an ideal pawn in King William’s play for power with the Saxon people. When he decrees she marry a powerful Norman knight, her subjugation appears to be complete. Can she hold firm to her Saxon heritage and refuse to give in to his advances?
John of Normandy is rewarded for his service and loyalty with land, titles and a Saxon beauty for a bride. John balks at the marriage, driven by the secret guilt of knowing Rowena's father died by his sword
 As their people look to them for guidance and peace, can John and Rowena find a love that unites all of England?

Excerpt:
"As my wife, Rowena..."
Her eyes narrowed at use of the title.
"...you will not allow men into your bedchamber. Other than me, that is."
A little shiver passed through her at the idea of him coming to her in the middle of the night. She could again feel his fingers caressing her. Perhaps he had indeed returned to be her husband in truth. The possibility excited her.
Arthur had followed her and even taken her in his arms to comfort her. In the past she had welcomed the feel of his arms around her, seldom as that happened, but she was already different. His arms no longer felt right around her. She had tried to tell him he could not be in her chamber, it wasn't seemly. He had looked so hurt.
"Do you not understand  me, wife?" John said.
The title bristled her. "Yes, husband, I understand you fine."
The use of titles did not make it any more true. Men always thought it did. They were wrong. Turning to him, she felt her cheeks grow hot as he caressed her ever so slowly with his eyes, finally resting on her face before her spoke again.
"Husband I will be soon enough."
His answer told her he didn't miss her meaning. He stood suddenly, and the fire silhouetting his large frame caused her breath to catch at his imposing size. From his powerful legs, slightly parted and ready for attack, to his solid torso, ready to receive the assault, to his burly arms more than willing to instigate the encounter. This was certainly no complacent lord of the manor; this was a well-honed fighting machine. Rowena was confused when she realized her own longing to touch him. His brown hair looked soft and the shadow of a beard around his chin caused her hand to itch for the touch of both.
"Know this, Rowena...:
Her breath quickened when he stepped toward her, his eyes piercing her own.
"...there will be no one but me."
He stopped just short of touching her but that now familiar heat reached out to her.
"You are mine and only mine."

Buy Links: Facebook   Amazon     BarnesandNoble     Apple    KOBO  

About the Author: Always an avid romance reader herself, Ashley York enjoys bringing history to life through vibrant and meaningful characters, writing historical romance novels full of passion and intrigue set in the 11th and 12th century British Isles. 

Her latest release, The Saxon Bride, is the first in The Norman Conquest series.
When she is not writing, talking about writing, or thinking about writing, Ashley relaxes with visits to the local pubs listening to live Celtic tunes. She lives in southern New England with her husband and 3 very spoiled animals.



Anita www.anitaphilmar.com