Bits 'n Bobs Author Blog
Join me on Ashley York's blog for a special Scottish Christmas offering, and a beautiful poem by Alexander Grey called Christmas Carol.
http://www.ashleyyorkauthor.com/blog/a-special-christmas-offering-from-cathy-macrae/ Here is the last verse of Mr. Grey's poem- check out the post on Ashley's blog for the entire poem, or visit the site below "...For the bairn that was born that nicht i’ the sta’ Cam doon frae Heaven to tak awa’ Oor fecklessness, and bring us a’ Safe hame in the hender-en’. Lord, at this Yule-tide send us licht, Hae mercy on us and herd us richt. For the sake o’ the bairnie born that nicht, O, mak us better men!" www.Scots-Online.org Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and blessed holiday season!
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9/22/2014 2 Comments Medieval Monday #MedievalMonday Today on Medieval Monday, I am featuring Unbidden, Book One in Jill Hughey’s Evolution Series which will take you to the rarely explored medieval world of Charlemagne’s Empire where aristocrats, warriors, merchants and servants find love in the most unexpected places! If you like swoon-worthy yet mildly flawed heroes and independent not-too-perfect heroines, then step in to a Jill Hughey Romance. BLURB Rochelle of Alda, a feisty Frank noblewoman, expects to continue her industrious life managing her family’s estate. When her emperor summons her to the palace to meet the skilled soldier she is required to marry, Rochelle engages in a battle for independence from David of Bavaria. As her own deceptions multiply, she suspects another of also plotting against their marriage. To her surprise, and too late, David’s passion and patience begin to win her heart. Can their love survive the tangled web of her schemes and the secret adversary David refuses to see? * * * In this excerpt of David and Rochelle’s first meeting, David has arrived to take Rochelle to the palace for the betrothal, and is dismayed to learn her mother has told her nothing about it. EXCERPT David turned his head as the noise from the door escalated, unsure what he expected to enter his life. Given her mother’s shocking hair, he didn’t hold his hopes too high for the girl’s appearance, no matter what Theo said. The need for deception to even get her to Aix did not indicate a particularly biddable personality. Based on the increasingly violent rattling from the latch, she couldn’t even open doors for herself. He was about to climb the steps to offer assistance when the door finally wrenched open, releasing a storm of muttering about city workmanship and rotten carpentry carried in a whirlwind of deep blue linen. She all but flung herself onto the narrow staircase. Not exactly light of foot nor entirely graceful, she rushed down the stairs, noticing his presence in time to abruptly stop on the bottom step. She stared at him. From across the room he could feel the chill of cold caution. Even so, his concern about her looks evaporated. She stood taller than her mother, clear skinned, with eyes of a soft green. The gold circlet on her head held her veil neatly in place, covering what it was intended to cover. An unexpected desire to see the color of her hair shot through him. He could only approximate it from her eyebrows: not quite brown, but certainly not red either. And her female attributes remained a mystery to him as well, hidden under layers of varying shades of blue, though a heavy gold girdle studded with aquamarines suggested narrow hips. “Mother?” she queried. David reluctantly turned to Marian, who, it appeared, had been watching him stare at her daughter. A small smile quirked her lips. Her tightly clasped hands now lay on her chest as if in prayer. She did not find her voice until David cleared his throat expectantly. “Rochelle!” she said too loudly. “Theophilus, the gentleman who has helped us so much, sent this burly young man to escort ye to yer audience with the emperor. He is called David. A Bavarian, no less!” David raised his brow at her rather obtuse explanation of his role in the upcoming event. Marian gave him a slight warning shake of her head. Well, if the woman hadn’t the courage to tell this girl the truth of the matter, he certainly did. He didn’t know much about getting along with women, but he guessed that starting his marriage with deception – and necessarily short-lived deception at that – could not be wise. As he opened his mouth to explain exactly who he was, Rochelle spoke, “I do not see why I need an escort. I found the palace yesterday.” She lowered herself off the last step and strode toward him with a confident swing of her arms. “But if Theophilus wants to share his guard, so be it.” Marian bobbed her head. “It was quite thoughtful of him.” David held up a hand. “I am not Theo’s guard. And did you just suggest you were wandering about the city yesterday, alone?” Rochelle studied him assessingly. Yes, assessingly was the only word for it and, God help him, she was lovely up close. Her not brown, not red brows arched over green eyes flecked with hazel. A dusting of freckles decorated a thin nose that flared pertly at the nostrils. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted exposing straight teeth. “Not alone. Our servant, Gilbert, was with me.” “Gilbert, the bag of bones who opened the door?” David scoffed. “He could not keep a street rat away much less a pack of thieves. From this day forth, you will not leave here without an able-bodied man at your side.” She smelled nice. Rochelle placed her hands on her hips, pleasantly outlining a slim waist beneath her clothing. “What has given you the idea you can make pronouncements such as that to me? I will go where I wish, when I wish, escorted or not, as I wish!” Her chest heaved a bit and there were breasts under that tunic, he could tell, and damn it when was the last time he’d lain with a woman? He mentally bridled himself. First, betrothal. Betrothal was the task set before him today. It was time to attend to that task. He stepped forward, purposely crowding her and letting his hard gaze bore into her fiery eyes, daring her to challenge him. “I will tell you what gives me the right –“ Marian made a strangled sound before finding her words. “Ye should be going! It will not do to be late to the palace.” Rochelle eyed first him, then Marian, before backing away to grasp her mother’s hands. “Mother, I do wish you would reconsider. Certainly the nobles have forgotten your circumstances by now. Father would want you to have the honor of meeting Charlemagne’s son.” Marian laughed a bit shrilly. “No, that is no place for me. Ye shall have the glory today, daughter. Here is your cloak.” She kept babbling as she closed the gold and aquamarine clasp at the neckline of the pale blue garment. “David will keep you safe. Do as he says, my dear. He is in charge of you today. And possibly tomorrow.” Rochelle chortled. “Mother, do not be ridiculous. This will be over in an hour or two and then we are going home! Home, where I also do not require an escort!” She fixed David with a significant look before she walked to the door, wrenched it open with relative ease, and stepped onto the street without him. END OF EXCERPT Amazon – http://viewbook.at/unbidden B&N http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unbidden-jill-hughey/1107878247?ean=2940032876090 Apple https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/unbidden-evolution-series-1/id669962780?mt=11 Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/105365 Kobo http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Unbidden/book-LvUJeKW6xU-dmJWy3DSCxg/page1.html?s=ggcrfh25QUuM-OPlj27aRA&r=1 In Print at CreateSpace https://www.createspace.com/3733078 Audio books Audible http://www.audible.com/pd/Romance/Unbidden-Audiobook/B00HR735OM Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Unbidden-The-Evolution-Series/dp/B00HSR6WNC iTunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/audiobook/unbidden-evolution-series/id803456753?uo=4″ target=”itunes_store”> For more about Jill Hughey visit her website at www.jillhughey.com. Subscribe to her occasional newsletter at www.jillhughey.com/contact. * * * I hope you are enjoying Medieval Mondays. Feel free to tweet about us using #MedievalMonday. Next week's author is Ashley York. Welcome back to Bits n Bobs, Caroline. Is this the actual release day for Dangerous Works? It is! Soul Mate Publishing has made it available on Amazon. I’m delighted to finally have it out there for readers. Here is the buy link: http://tinyurl.com/lsaryjx Congratulations! Now, tell us a bit about the story. What works are so dangerous? Women in the regency era led pretty constrained lives. Some people (ok some MEN) believed too much education would actually harm their delicate sensibilities. My heroine, Georgiana, despises that attitude. When she gets deep into the poems with the help of a very attractive tutor, however, she begins to understand why some people might think her work is dangerous. A little Greek is one thing; the art of love is another. Before she knows it her heart is in danger alongside her virtue. What is your favorite scene? There is a scene in which she is furious with the hero for taking steps to publish their work without consulting her. She stomps up the stairs to his study thinking up every insult she can hurl at him only to fall into his arms at the top of the steps. Where did you get the idea for a story about woman who translates Greek poetry? I love the Regency era but I try to avoid the conventional London drawing room. I’m always looking for settings and stories about smart women. Women scholars now study women writers in the classical era. I asked myself what a woman would have faced in the early 19th century if she attempted that research. She would have been barred from the best universities and libraries. It was fun to put her in Cambridge. Your hero is pretty beaten up. Where did that come from? I have a weakness for damaged alpha heroes. In this case I needed a reason for a soldier to be returning home to a university town. Georgiana uses his injuries as a way to insinuate herself into his life and manipulate him into helping her with her work. Are you looking for settings for your next book? Dangerous Secrets will be out next winter, also from Soul Mate Publishing. It is set in Rome in 1820, when Keats and Shelley lived there. The hero is another veteran of Waterloo, this one down on his luck and hiding out. Another intriguing story! Thank you so much for sharing with us today! I wish you much success as a writer! 8/4/2014 16 Comments Guest Author, Cynthia OwensPlease help me welcome Cynthia Owens back to the blog today. She has a special treat in store for us as we meet the heroine of her newest Irish romance, Everlasting. Hello, Cathy, and thank you so much for hosting me on your blog today! I must admit I’m super-excited about being here to introduce you to the heroine of my August release, Everlasting, Book IV of the Claddagh Series. It’s wonderful to be back in Ballycashel again! Those of you who read Coming Home (Book II) might remember Shannon Flynn. She’s the oldest of Tom Flynn’s three daughters, and when last seen, the fifteen-year-old girl was enjoying a budding romance with Mike Donovan. But time passed and Shannon grew up to face a sudden, shocking tragedy. Now she’s filled with bitterness and determined to exact revenge on the man she holds responsible for the loss of her fiancé. So allow me to introduce you to Shannon Flynn, all the way from Ballycashel, County Galway, Ireland. Welcome, Shannon. (A gracious nod.) Go raibh maith agat. Thank you. What do you like to do in your spare time? I enjoy long walks in the woods. I sometimes draw. (A wicked smile) I draw lovely pictures of crows in flight. Just ask Lord Bennington. And I walk by the sea…and remember. Remember? Aye. Remember. Remember how it used to be, when all of us were young. (An aching sigh) ‘Twas the three of us, d’ye see? Meself, Mike and Sean O’Brien. We’d go wading in the strand, catch a fish or two in the river. I loved Sean, so I did. But I loved him like a brother. We were born on the same day, and I grew up alongside him. Sure, wasn’t I in and out of the Big House as if ‘twere me own home? Sean was a brother, but Mike… (Her eyes fill with tears, and she glances away for a moment before forcing a smile) Those were good days, happy days, when we were children and nothing could hurt us, nothing could separate us. It sounds like you had some wonderful times together. What is your greatest fear? (Her lashes drop, she studies her hands) Losing the people I love. (A pained pause) I lost Sean. I loved him so much, but sure, wasn’t he involved with the Crow Boys? He and the boys were determined to help set old Erin free, and they thought burning Bennington House was the way to do it. Instead, they were almost caught by the Constabulary. When it was all over, my da’d been shot and Sean fled. He’s in America now, living with his sister, Katie, and ‘tis said he’s done well for himself. But, sure, he’ll never see Ireland again. Son of the landlord or no, there’s a price on his head. (Her eyes fill with tears) And then I lost Mike. The only man I’ve ever loved. What is your most prized possession? Sure, for a poor Irish tenant, possessions are few and far between. But I cherish my slingshot. Sean made if for me. Said I might need it one day to fight off the boys. (Her eyes glitter with defiant pride) Well, sure, I never used it for that, but didn’t it come in handy on another occasion? But ye’ll have to read my story to find out about that particular incident. What’s your most vivid memory? (Shannon is silent for a long time, a look of utter sadness crossing her face) ‘Twas a cold January day when food was scarce and the hunger ran deep in all Lord Bennington’s tenants. Mike was one of those tenants, and sure, he couldn’t bear to see his brothers and sisters go hungry. My da offered to take him fishing—Da’s been fishing the sea since he was a lad, and his da and his grandda before him. But a storm blew up without warnin’, and the boat was destroyed. Da managed to swim ashore, but Mike— (a single tear streaks down one cheek)—sure, Mike couldn’t swim. The sea took him. We never even found his body. I say a prayer for him every night, as I have since we lost him, and didn’t I tie a rag to the Rag Tree in the hopes that God would bring him home? (She squares her shoulders and blinks away her tears, a small smile curving her lips.) I’ll always remember Mike. Sure, wasn’t he me own first love? But I’m happy now, happier than I ever dreamed possible with my Liam and our children. Shannon, thank you for being here with us today. Ah, ‘tis I should be thankin’ ye. And may I be offerin’ yer readers a wee Irish blessing? May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand. Go raibh maith agat. Thank you, Shannon and Cynthia for the wonderful interview. Everlasting promises to be a wonderful story, and Shannon sounds like a feisty, heart-melting heroine. I look forward to reading it soon! 7/9/2014 8 Comments Guest Author Elizabeth PrestonElizabeth Preston is with me today to give us a look at her novella, The Outcasts, a story of the Australian Rainforests, prejudice, and an unlikely love. (The Outcasts is scheduled to go live on Amazon TODAY! I will post the buy link as it comes available) Back cover blurb: In 1889, the Northern Australian Rainforests are cruel and prejudiced places to live. Hunter, born from an English mother and a native Australian father, does not fit well with either group. He is an outcast. The new English settlers fear and demonise him because he is dark skinned, unpredictable and frighteningly strong. Long ago, Hunter survived his mother’s murder. An Aboriginal witch doctor found the dying boy and used tribal magic to save his life. Hunter grew fearfully strong, but this gift of ferocity and strength came at a cost. Now, as an adult, he wanders the rainforest at night venting his anger and frustrations. He is not safe to be around. But wayward Alice thinks otherwise. Excerpt: “So, is this how it is to be? The English have sent me a prize this time, a fine English lady who also knows how to be a whore in bed?” That was it! She was seething now, way too angry to feel fear, or restraint. “No one has sent me. I am my own person, I go where I please. I do not care what the others say. And I would not make advances toward you if my life depended on it.” “Ha!” he said. “I think you might.” “I can assure you,” she hissed, “that I would not. I’d rather seduce a python, I’d rather bed a Tasmanian tiger and I’d kiss a web filled with spiders rather than be intimate with you. All three creatures at once would be a preferable fate.” He roared with laughter. Then he stopped laughing and crept close enough so that his heavy lashes brushed against her cheek. “If I kissed your beautiful mouth, then you would respond. I would see to it that you did.” Almost spitting, she said, “You are rude, contemptuous and . . .” She struggled for words. “. . .gravely misguided. The English do not sacrifice their women. And what on this God-given earth makes you think that anyone, not just the English but anyone at all, would want to please you?” “You have been sent down here to warm my bed. I am sure of it.” Alice supposed that she should be scared. Anyone that deluded deserved to be feared but she was simply too angry to care. “The others warned me about you,” she said. “There. I knew it. You lied. You do know more about me than you let on.” He backed away, almost satisfied. * * * About Elizabeth: Elizabeth spent her first life in New Zealand but now calls sunny Sydney home. She lives with one patient husband, one grown son and one very naughty little dog. She always wanted to be a writer but tried everything else first. She’s been a teacher, a ship’s cook, a ticket seller and an advertising person paid to spend other people’s money. She likes being a writer best. Elizabeth dreams of moving to the postcard-perfect Southern Highlands of New South Wales. There, she will unleash her dark heroes and dastardly plots and generally cause mayhem. The dream also involves flapping ducks, wandering alpacas and an assortment of other animals for her dog to bark at. Elizabeth won an award from The Society of Women Writers, WA and slogged away at a writing degree from Southern Cross University. The Outcasts, published by Soul Mate Publishing, is her first novella. Elizabeth’s blog address is: http://elizabethpreston.wordpress.com. |
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