Bits 'n Bobs Author Blog
I have Scottish historical author, Meggan Connors with me today on Thursday's Threads. Let's find out a bit about her book, Highland Deception Heat Rating: Sensual Genre: Historical Romance Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J3D2JS6/ Blurb: When Kenneth Mackay, long-banished rogue and thief, returns to the Mackay holding at the request of his brother, he has no idea what he might find. He certainly doesn’t expect to be confronted with his twin’s imminent death, or with the plan his brother has concocted. Ten years before, Malcolm made a tragic mistake, and, to preserve the family name—and his own skin—he allowed Kenneth to take the fall. Now that he is dying without an heir, Malcolm plans to atone for his mistake: by giving Kenneth his life back. All Kenneth has to do is assume his brother’s identity. But complicating matters is the unexpected return of Lady Isobel Mackay, the daughter of an English marquess and the wife Malcolm didn’t want. Isobel barely knows the husband who abandoned her even before their marriage, and she’d long since given up hope on having a real marriage with him. Yet when she returns to the Mackay holding far earlier than expected, she finds her husband a changed man. Despite the hurt between them, Isobel’s heart responds to this man who cares for his entire clan as if there were family. Who, for the first time, cares about her as if she is, too. Falling in love with her husband had never been part of Isobel’s plan. But when their future is suddenly in peril, Isobel must find a way to save him—from himself and from the deception threatening to tear them apart. Excerpt She ignored Grant’s angry protests behind her and ran for her husband’s bedchamber. Slamming open the door, she stumbled inside. Malcolm lay in the great bed. Alone. Alone. She tried not to speculate about what that meant. His breathing was shallow, as if he’d been running. As the door bounced back and closed, his sky-bright eyes shot up and met hers. No, not sky-bright. Darker, the color of the forget-me-nots that bloomed in the gardens in spring. The color of the night sky as it lightened with the first rays of dawn. “Milord.” She gasped for breath. Malcolm had never looked at her like he did now. This time, when he studied her, it was as if he didn’t dislike what he saw. Being honest with herself, Malcolm had never disliked her. After all, the term dislike implied a depth of feeling he almost certainly lacked. “Wife.” Isobel flinched. Grant was suddenly at her back. “Sir, I apologize. She’s faster than you’d think.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, as if to steer her from the room. She shook him off. “Indeed.” Malcolm smiled, and a charming dent in his cheek appeared. How had she not noticed that before? “We will leave at once.” Grant took her by the arm. She wrenched out of his grasp. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I have my audience.” She glanced around the room and saw no sign of Malcolm’s mistress. “Lady Mackay,” Grant began. Malcolm held up his hand. “‘Tis fine, Grant. I can always make time for my lady wife.” Isobel barked a hollow laugh, alleviating the ache, just a little. “Are you certain?” Grant’s eyes shifted from Isobel to Malcolm and back again. A wrinkle formed between his brows, and the muscle in his cheek worked as he ground his teeth together. He’d only ever done that when he was agitated or anxious. But there was no reason for that, as Malcolm had never truly cared enough to keep secrets from her in an attempt to spare her feelings. Nor had he ever forced others to do the same. Malcolm’s eyes met Grant’s, and something passed between the two men. Her husband gave Grant a clipped nod. “If you’ll excuse us, Grant.” Grant released his breath slowly. His eyes narrowed first at Malcolm, then at Isobel. Scowling, he bowed his head. “Mackay,” he said stiffly. He turned to Isobel. “Lady Mackay.” Isobel watched him go then waited until the door had closed behind him. “So, where is she?” Malcolm arched a dark brow. “Where is who?” “You know. Her.” He lifted a single shoulder, as if she didn’t have a right to know. “I doona ken.” The silence that fell between them was deafening, damning. Finally he said, “Your arrival was unexpected.” She breathed a mirthless laugh. “I have no doubt.” She expected him to look ashamed, but his expression didn’t hold even the slightest hint of remorse. She swallowed against the betrayal rising in the back of her throat and tried again. “Why are you abed?” “I’ve been ailing. Naught to fash yourself over.” She approached his great bed tentatively. “Ailing how? Has your cough worsened?” He glanced down at his coverlet and then brought his gaze back to her face. “For a time, aye. I believe I’m on the mend now.” Isobel pressed her hand to his forehead, then his cheek. His skin felt cool beneath her palm, if a little damp. His breath hitched, then he cleared his throat. “Satisfied? As you can see, I am on the mend.” “Perhaps,” she whispered. She ran her hand around to the back of his neck, then descended to his back. He wore a thin linen shirt, unsuitable for the cool nights of the Highlands in late fall. She placed her hands between his shoulder blades. He was thinner than she remembered, but there was no mistaking Malcolm’s unique strength. “Breathe,” she said, and then reminded herself to do the same. Malcolm. “I hardly think—” “If you want me to leave you be, you will appease my curiosity. Breathe.” Malcolm tilted his head up and studied her. She fought the desire to look at him for as long as she could before meeting his gaze. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Curiosity. “Breathe, milord.” Heat spread up her neck to her face, and, to keep her free hand from shaking, she clenched a fist. The warmth of his body seeped through his nightshirt, scalding her hand not with fever but with something else. The corners of his lips tilted upward before he smoothed his features. He paused for a moment too long, then held her gaze as he took an extended, deliberate breath. She shoved the raging emotions aside and forced herself to view him as a person who needed her help. She felt no hint of the cough that had been nagging him before she’d left. Swallowing hard, she slid her hand between the linen and his skin, against his chest. His heart rate kicked up. “Breathe.” She struggled to force the word out. I feel nothing. Nothing. He needs my help. She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her hands, the steady beating of his heart. His skin scorched hers. Her mouth dried, her tongue thick and heavy. She removed her hand. “You seem to have mended nicely.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strangled. His gaze searched her face. “Aye.” Isobel cradled her hand against her chest and stepped back from the bed, nearly tripping over her own feet. “I will leave you now, sir.” Malcolm gave her a clipped nod. “Very well, my lady wife.” “I—I will be in my chambers should you require me.” He didn’t laugh, as he normally would have. “Then I shall find you there if I do. Or I will send for you.” She backed up a few paces, bumped into a trunk, and immediately turned her attention to her skirt, trying to smooth wrinkles undoubtedly permanent from long days of travel. It was better than looking at Malcolm. “By your leave.” Her eyes locked on the floor as she dipped into a hasty curtsy and fled. The moment the door closed behind her, she put her back against the cold, stone wall, cradling the hand that had touched him as if she had injured it. She’d touched his skin, felt the heat of his body, and the responding heat of hers. He hadn’t forced her hands away. He hadn’t mocked her. Instead, for the first time since their marriage, he’d called her wife.
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Please help me welcome Scottish Regency author, Collette Cameron. Title: The Earl’s Enticement Genre: Regency-Scottish Heat Level: Sensual Buy Link: http://amzn.com/B00KLO64 The Earl’s Enticement Cover Blurb: She won’t be tamed. A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects. He can’t forget. Haunted by his past, Roark, The Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women. Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement. He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart. Excerpt: “Halloo,” he hollered. “Is anyone there? I’m the Earl of Clarendon. I’m being held prisoner.” She shook her head, sending him a contemptuous scowl. “Stop shouting, you dolt. It’s but a weasel or a stoat, perhaps even a squirrel. They come in through the drains or gaps where a stone’s gone missing in the wall.” She motioned with the pistol for him to move away from the door once more. “I’m surprised none have paid you a visit as yet. As for Ewan, he’s away in London, just now.” With what could only be described as a derisive grunt, Marquardt obliged her and sauntered away from the door. He rested against the far wall, ankles crossed, crunching on the apple. A muffled thud, as if someone had bumped into something, echoed through the lower chambers. He perked up. “That was no pest.” Adaira whirled to peer into the gloom. “I say, can you hear me? I’m locked in a cell.” She spun back around. He’d moved to the door, his hands fisted around the bars. Drat it. She was losing control of the situation. His presence mustn’t be known to anyone other than Brayan yet. She bent to retrieve the sack. No doubt Brayan had come looking for her at one of her parents’ behest. Marquardt absolutely must not see him. Brayan would boast he’d helped lock the man up. From the sound of the crashing about, he’d sampled the flask a good deal more and was utterly bosky. “Blast and da—” She stopped as Marquardt’s eyebrows flew to his hairline in obvious disapproval. Lowering her voice, she hurried on. “Ewan’s expected back any day. When he returns, I’ll tell him I apprehended you. He can do with you what he wants. I’m quite sure it will involve the authorities.” “Apprehended?” He shook his head. “You’re still sticking to the absurd notion that I’m Edgar?” He tossed the apple core between the bars. It bounced before rolling to a stop barely three feet beyond her. A rat promptly appeared, scrambling to snatch the core in his pointed, yellow teeth. The little beast raced down the passageway with two other rodents squeaking their outrage in its wake. Marquardt had done that on purpose, the lout. * * * Connect with Collette: Website Blue Rose Romance Blog Twitter Facebook 5/27/2014 0 Comments And the Winners are..!Congratulations to T. Miles and Denise! Thanks for joining me at The Reading Cafe! I will be putting your prizes in the mail this week.
5/16/2014 0 Comments Join me at The Reading CafeGood morning! Today I'm being interviewed at The Reading Cafe.. Sandy reviewed my debut book last year and graciously posted a review for The Highlander's Reluctant Bride. today. Check out the interview and review and sign in at the Cafe for a chance to win one of a couple of giveaways (USA only this time). Instructions are at the bottom of the review. Come check it out! Look what came in the mail yesterday! Any author can tell you, there are certain signposts along the path of publication. Starting a book. Finishing a book. Sending out that first query letter. Getting 'the call' or offer to publish your book. Seeing your name added to your publisher's release date list. Sending your book cover info to the cover artist. Seeing your cover for the first time. The first time you see your book listed on one of the retail sites. Holding your book in your hand. Well, here it is! So, how about a celebration? Comment on this post- ask (or comment on) anything about my writing; this book, my current work-in-progress, whatever- and you'll have a chance to win an autographed copy of The Highlander's Accidental Bride! (US or Canada recipient only) I'll post the winner Saturday, May 10th. Be sure to leave your email address with your comment or check back to see if you are the winner! An alternate will be chosen the following week if I can't contact you. |
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