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Think Books

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Welcome to my blog! Pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee and read what's on my mind. I've a vicious sense of humor, an apprecation for romance and a mad addiction to writing.

Thursday, October 27, 2016

Yuletide Magic. Unexpected Romance. A Viking Holiday: The MacLomain Series- Viking Ancestors' Kin. #timetravel

Hello, all! I hope everyone's getting revved up for the holidays. I certainly am! For those who follow my Vikings, there's a little something festive on the horizon...

Coming November 29th
Now available for pre-order.

A Viking Holiday
The MacLomain Series- Viking Ancestors' Kin
A Novella

Having time travelers in your life isn’t always easy. Given that he’s said goodbye to several of them over the past few years, Sean O’Conner knows that better than most. Now his best friend Megan has returned from tenth-century Scandinavia to modern day Maine. Not only has she aged over twenty-five years, she hasn’t traveled through time alone. Her troublesome daughter Svala is with her.

Of dragon blood and proud to be Viking, Svala Sigdir has no use for the twenty-first century and makes it evident to all around her. Even so, she will protect her mother at all cost. Meanwhile, she needs a man. Sean to be exact. Despite his aversion, she is determined to make him hers.

Svala might be after him, but Sean wants nothing to do with her. At least that’s what he tells himself as the holidays arrive and he struggles to keep peace in what’s become a battleground instead of a festive Winter Harbor home. At his wit’s end, he finally calls on an old friend’s help. Or so he had hoped. Cast beneath the spell of a powerful Scottish wizard determined to protect his Viking Ancestors, Sean and Svala go on an unexpected yuletide journey. As it turns out, there’s only one way to break free from the spell. A life-altering choice that might very well cost Sean both his sanity and his heart.


Svala wrapped her fur cloak around her shoulders and started to breeze past them as she eyed his crew mate. “So you’re New England’s finest, are you?”

“Naw.” Nick chuckled and nodded at Sean. “Most ladies think he is.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure about that,” she said before she started down the hallway.

“I don’t think so.” Sean grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “Nick, go make sure none of the guys head this way. Tell them I’m catching a rat or something.”

Svala winked. “Or a dragon.”

“Where you gonna hide her, Cap?” Nick kept grinning. “She don’t look like the type of woman who’ll keep hidden if she’s decided otherwise.”

Svala cocked a grin at Nick. “I think I like you.”

“I know I like you, beautiful,” he returned.

“Just make sure no one heads this way, Nick,” Sean reiterated. “And I’ll make sure Svala stays hidden.”

“I betcha will.” Nick chuckled as Sean pulled her toward the meager sleeping quarters.

“I am not staying down here.” Svala started to fight him. “I want to be on deck. I want to help you fish.”

“Hell, no.” Sean grabbed her before she could bolt in the opposite direction. “My men won’t be able to concentrate on work with you around.”

Her eyes met his. “Then you must not lead them well if they are so easily distracted.”

It felt as if the narrow hallway only grew smaller as her eyes pinned his…as he remembered with vivid clarity how she’d felt against him last night. “You know damn well the effect you have on men.”

“I did not dress in modern day clothes.” She pulled the cloak off her shoulders. “See, I am dressed like a Viking again.”

His eyes fell to the fur-trimmed, leather tunic. To her unmistakable curves. He swallowed and tore his eyes away. “What difference does it make? You’re still trouble.”

“Only when I dress like a modern-day woman, yes?” Svala cocked her head. “That is why you fought for me last night, is it not? Because you desired me in those clothes?” She frowned. “Now I am not wearing them. You will not desire me so they won’t either. There will be no trouble. You will not be ashamed of yourself.”

Sean had no idea what to make of her logic. “I’m not ashamed of myself.” But he had been when he overreacted last night. “And trust me, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. You’re gonna distract my men.”

She didn’t press closer, but her words made the hallway seem even narrower as she murmured, “Am I distracting you now, Sean? Is that why you seem so convinced?”

When they hit a small swell, he braced his hand against the wall beside her head and bit back desire. “Just do as I ask, Svala. I don’t need any trouble, okay? Not with my men.” He ground his jaw. “This is my livelihood. Please don’t screw it up.”

Shockingly enough, Svala looked as though he’d slapped her. “That’s not why I’m here, Sean…” She trailed off, clearly upset before she gathered herself. “I just wanted to see you fish.”

“Commercial fishing isn’t like normal fishing.” He shook his head. “There’s not much to see, really.”

Except when the nets came up. That feeling of excitement and expectation before they found out how big a load they’d caught.

He had no idea what to make of the look on her face. She was vulnerable in a way he’d never seen her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, not sure what to say, still confused about why she hadn’t already traveled back in time. “Maybe I can take you out fishing another time?”

“Maybe,” she said softly, her eyes alarmingly gentle as she stepped close. “So how are you going to keep me entertained while you hide me away?”

Ah, there she was. The little Viking he knew so well. Except this time he wasn’t stepping away.

Something about having her on one of his boats, on his turf, on the high sea…was different. Somehow, though it was on his territory, they had found common ground. The sway of a ship. The pulse of the ocean beneath them.

“Sean,” she whispered, clearly sensing a crack in the wall he’d kept between them. Slowly, inch by inch, she unzipped his jacket. “If I understand things correctly, you aren’t needed for hours yet. Why don’t we use that time in a pleasurable way, yes?”

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Contemporary Holiday Romance. Marmalade’s First Christmas, by Paula Millhouse. #holidayromance

Today it’s my pleasure to feature Marmalade’s First Christmas, a novella by Paula Millhouse.

Genre: Contemporary Holiday Romance
Formats: ePub, Mobi

Publisher: Paula Millhouse Digital
Date of Publication: October 25, 2016
Kindle ASIN: B01LY2AGJ5
Number of pages: 122
Word Count: 27,400

Coming Soon:
Barnes & Noble


When billionaire Jake Simons rescues a kitten the week before Christmas, the orange tabby cat leads Jake to the greatest gift of the season - Veterinarian Marley West.

The last thing Marley needs is a client meddling in her personal business, but Old Man Winter, Mother Nature, and Jake’s pregnant mares have other plans for her holiday. When she gets snowed in with Jake during the worst blizzard in racehorse country, sparks fly.

But will Jake be strong enough to let go of ghosts from his past? And, in this friends-to-lovers story, will Marley learn to trust that Jake just might be her very own Christmas miracle?


Jake woke to an empty bed, and he startled up. Where was she? He tugged on a pair of sweats and a shirt, and left the bedroom searching for her.

What he found both surprised and pleased him.

“You’re up early,” she said, grinning at him with that breathtaking smile. She was sitting on the cushions in front of the fire, sipping a mug of something warm, reading one of his mother’s old romance novels. Marmalade was purring on her lap, and the Christmas Tree, the only other light besides the crackling fire lit up the room. “I found hot chocolate in the kitchen,” Marley said.

Jake took the mug and sniffed it. “Oh, this won’t do. Give me a sec and I’ll make you something amazing.”

He got up to go make the drinks, and Marley followed him. She watched him like a hawk as he simmered heavy cream, cinnamon sticks, and carved a big block of dark chocolate. “The secret is in not letting the cream reach a full boil.” He turned to the pantry and pulled out a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream. “And Baileys, of course.”

He poured the steaming elixir into big cheerful Snowman Mugs, added a shot of the liqueur, and then stirred a striped red and white candy cane in each mug. “Merry Christmas.”

She took one sip, and her eyes rolled back in her head. “Oh, Holy Night, this is incredible.”

He laughed, and sipped his cup too. “Pretty tasty.”

“I love this time of year, you know. It’s as if this one week, everything is perfect. Unblemished. Full of possibilities.”

She had a chocolate mustache from the drink, and he reached in and touched her upper lip. “You got a little something right there…”

She giggled. He swiped his tongue across the chocolate on her lips. He groaned. Her soft full lips tasted even better with chocolate on them. “This is turning out to be my favorite week this year too.”
She blushed, and her whole face turned holly berry red. Her delicately curved neck too. He took the mug from her hands, set it down, and backed her up to the granite counter. He kissed her properly, thoroughly, deeply.

She sighed, so he knew he’d gotten it right. The tingly taste of peppermint and chocolate on her tongue instantly became his favorite new treat. “Mmm…”

The kitchen heated up with their kisses, but a few moments later she pulled away and said, “We should go check on the mares, and their babies.”

About the Author

I write books.

Books where romance, fantasy, and suspense collide.

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, where Spanish moss whispers tales in breezes from the Atlantic Ocean, as a child I soaked in the sunshine and heritage of cobblestones, pirate lore, and stories steeped in savory mysteries of the South. I graduated with honors from both Armstrong Atlantic State University, and Georgia Southern University.

I live in the mountains now with my husband, but honor my southern heritage as a storyteller by sharing high heat adventures in romance fiction with readers.

What’s in it for you?

A reward. Treat yourself to an entertaining diversion from your daily routine by reading my stories. You’ll find themes like, justice does exist, love is worth fighting for, and happily ever afters are expected. 

Find the Author on Social Media

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Young Adult Romance. Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking by Kimbra Kasch.

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over Kimbra Kasch, author of Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking, Book One in The Viking  Series.

Genre: Young Adult Romance

Publisher: Crimson Frost

Date of Publication:  August 26, 2016

Number of pages: 274
Word Count: 65,000

Cover Artist: Gin Kiser

Giveaway! Be sure to enter the Rafflecopter at the end of this post for a chance to win a $25 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

Book Description

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.



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 folk-lore 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.
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.

Let's Interview... 

What inspired you to write this book? 

My first trip to Hamlet’s Castle in Elsinore, Denmark. My husband was born and raised in Denmark so when he took me to meet his Danish family, he took me to visit one of his country’s most fantastic sites. It was there that I first learned of the legend of Holger Danske, a Viking Warrior and heir to the throne. But that wasn’t even the most fascinating thing to me. I found out Holger was married to King Arthur’s half-sister, Morgaine Le Fay. And the legend got more interesting with every word.

King Arthur was given Excalibur by The Lady of the Lake (a Norse Goddess) but he wasn’t the first or the last to be given such a gift…

Holger was given the sister sword to Excalibur – “CORTANA”.

I couldn’t forget about this Viking. When I went home I read all I could find about him…and Morgaine. The legends cross countries: France, Denmark, England, Ireland… I was mesmerized. 

How did you come up with the title? 

Morgaine (who is found in many legends, under many different names in many different countries: (e.g. Morgaine Le Fay, Morgan le Fay, Morgaine le Fey, Morgen, Morgain, Morganna, Morgant, Morgane, Morgne, Morge, and more) fascinated me most of all. In some legends she was a shield maiden who rode out in the front of King Arthur’s army. In other legends she was a sorceress and in some a Fairy. I had to read more about her. But when you put the legends of Morgaine together with the legends of Holger…I felt their story had to be told.  It seemed so strange that people in America had only heard the portion of the tale that included King Arthur…maybe because that part of the story was all in English. But, if you could read French, Danish and English, you could hear the rest of the story.

What made you choose the main setting for your book? 

My story travels from Britain to Denmark to France and back again. I couldn’t choose only one location when the story travels across continents, countries and an ocean. ;D

 If you could spend an hour in real life with one of your characters, who would it be and why?

I think I would want to talk with Morgaine the most. I would like to see why people thought she was a Fairy and a sorceress but mostly I would like to hear about her life as a shield maiden. For a woman to ride into battle and actually defend the men she loved is fascinating to me, a woman who sits behind a desk and types… ;D I mean, the worst thing that could happen to me is a hangnail or maybe a paper cut ;D

Tell us a little bit about the conflict in your story.

The conflict in my story involves Holger and Morgaine riding into battle against each other. The Vikings were not a friend to the Brits. Yet, somehow these two epic characters fell in love. It was not an easy journey or path to choose. King Arthur did not welcome a Viking to his table.

Tell us about your book cover and how it relates to your story. 

I wanted my cover to show the love between these two characters but to also show strength and courage. I think Gin Kiser did a great job.

Are you currently working on another story? If so, we’d love some details.

I am working on the third book in the Viking Series, which tells the true tale of Mordred, Morgaine’s son. Or at least the Viking perspective ;D

What sort of personality does your hero have? 

Both characters Morgaine and Holger are strong personalities, warriors and royalty…a strange mixture.

What sort of personality does your heroine have? 

Above all else she is loyal to the men she loves and willing to sacrifice everything for them.

Tell us about your favorite writing environment. Is it indoors, outdoors, a special room, etc.

I write upstairs in my bedroom…a romantic setting ;D

What sources do you use for research? 

I gathered all the information I could about my story, including visiting many of the sites in my story. I traveled from Denmark to France to England and Ireland. I also pulled from the library and grabbed everything I could when I was in Denmark.

It’s time to promo. What is your favorite marketing tool?

I am horrible at marketing. I am an introvert at heart…as many writers are. But I enjoy Pinterest, I have a Viking board where I pin pictures. Plus I love to post pictures to Instagram too.

Are your book/books available in audio? In other languages? If so, give us more details about where we can get them and what languages they’re in.

I have an audio chapter and am working on getting this story put into audio format.

How long have you been writing? How long have you been published?

I have been writing since I was a little girl. I was a page editor for my high school paper and then I wrote magazine articles for years. Finally, I couldn’t forget these two characters and had to write an entire book.

 Do you prefer to write short stories, novellas or novels? Why?

I just love to write. I write short stories, novels and even articles for magazines. If I hear a story I can’t forget about or something about a character I fall in love with, I can’t let it go.

Do you write books in series? If so, share a bit about the series you currently have published or are coming soon.

I hate to say goodbye to characters I love. I keep thinking about them and writing about them.

This is the first book in a series of three… It starts with Morgaine and travels through time to tell more of the story. 


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

THREE reasons to read a Viking Romance:
1)  Ragnar;
2) Lagertha; and,
3) Rollo

But seriously, during the dark ages, the Vikings were more than merely heathen marauders. In truth, they were brave explorers. Men and women who took the original Captain’s Oath, vowing to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man (or woman) had gone before.

They were not the pillagers that the British portrayed them to be but people searching for new lands and new civilizations and along the way, they faced gripping family sagas that questioned more than their strength, agility and patience. These journeys brought into question alliances and loyal friendships, while testing their faith. And, there was nothing more important than family relationships. If a Viking couldn’t count on his family to help him survive, he perished.

But it wasn’t only the men, these warriors were women as well as men, who stood side by side on the battlefield. Perhaps that is the reason and the truth behind the tales of the Valkyrie and Valhalla, which still haunt the stories of the Vikings.

MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING is one such tale of the extraordinary lives and epic adventures of two people: Holger Danske and Morgaine LeFey.

And Holger Danske was not the first Danish Prince to appear on the printed page or to share a well-known castle as his home. Hamlet’s story is set in the same structure that stands on the sound between Denmark and Sweden. Holger’s home is in Kronborg Castle, known to most English speaking people as Hamlet’s Castle.

It was there, inside this Castle that I first was introduced to Holger Danske and the legends surrounding his iconic life. He was a warrior, a Prince destined to become King of all the Norse lands during the time of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round table.

I found it odd that everyone had heard of King Arthur and his magical sword, Excalibur, which he received from the Lade of the Lake (a Norse Goddess) who had also given such a sword to Holger Danske. Holger’s sword was named “Cortana”, and was made from the same metal and magic as Excalibur. Yet no one I talked to outside of Denmark had ever heard of Holger or his sword.

And, even more interesting was the fact that Holger and the Vikings invaded England, yet somehow, even as enemies, Holger and King Arthur’s half-sister, Morgaine LeFey, were able to share a forbidden love.

Theirs was a romance that threatened two kingdoms.

MORGAINE LE FAY AND THE VIKING is the secret Denmark never shares...until now. Morgaine and Holger faced an attraction more powerful than any sword, stronger than any warrior and more magical than all the powers of Merlin.

About the Author

 Kimbra Kasch is a romance writer who grew up in a family with 9 kids and only 1 t.v. So instead of fighting with her brothers and sisters about which shows to watch, she’d spend her days reading and, later, writing, which explains why she love books so much.

Kimbra’s favorite romance novels are The Hunger Games, the Divergent Series and, yes, even the Twilight books. She loves something with a hint of danger and/or paranormal.

You can find her pinning on pinterest:

And sharing photos on Instagram: @kaschkim

And read more about her here:

You can friend her on facebook:

Or stop by Amazon and check out a few of her other books:


Monday, September 19, 2016

Light Paranormal. Damned If He Does by Marcella Burnard.

Today I’m thrilled to welcome over Marcella Burnard, author of Damned If He Does.

Genre: Light Paranormal

Date of Publication: 7/19/2016

ISBN: 978-0-9977244-0-0

Number of pages: 333
Word Count: 98k

Cover Artist: Danielle Fine

Book Description

Rejected by heaven, twisted by hell, what’s a damned dead man to do when he stumbles upon a life and love worth fighting for?

Though damned for his earthly sins, Darsorin Incarri likes being an incubus. Prowling women’s dreams to siphon off their sexual energy for Satan's consumption has its perks: an array of infernal power and a modicum of freedom. Sure, Ole Scratch holds Dar’s soul in thrall, and Dar has to spend a few hours recharging in Hell every day, but it could be much worse. All he has to do is hold up his end of his damnation contract – five women seduced, satisfied and siphoned per night for eternity. So when he encounters gorgeous, bright, and funny Fiona Renee, it’s business as usual. Deploy the infernal charm and rack up another score. Except it doesn’t work. She’s immune. He has to find out what’s gone wrong or face Lucifer's wrath.

Fiona Renee has the life she’d always wanted: a career, a home, a cat with a bad attitude, and peace. Fiona’s dated. Had boyfriends. And hated every minute of it. She’s reconciled to being lonely. So when a man shows up in her bedroom in the middle of the night demanding to know why her dreams turn to nightmares every time he tries to seduce her from within them, Fiona winds up negotiating a contract with a demon that allows him access to her life. She never anticipated that it would also give him access to her heart. If she's going to fall in love at all, something she never thought would happen, shouldn’t it be with someone who’s alive? If Fiona wants to hang on to Darsorin, she has to find his true name—the one he’d been given at his birth over a thousand years ago. But Satan, himself, stands in her way. Even if Fiona can dodge Lucifer, she and Darsorin have to face the question neither of them can answer: What happens to a dead man if you manage to wrest his soul from the Devil?

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Let's Interview!

If you had to sell your book based on one run of dialogue (start quote to end quote), which would it be?

Oh, that's easy. It's Darsorin's line to the heroine, Fiona: “In all my short life and in the eternity of my cursed unlife, I have never before been a woman's nightmare. Why am I yours?"

Tell us about your book cover and how it relates to your story.

Is that cover not super pretty? The amazing Danielle Fine did the cover art and worked REALLY hard to capture exactly the right feel for Darsorin and Fiona. We went through several cover mockups and had settled on one I thought was good, but she wasn't happy, went back to the drawing board and came back with awesome. The gal on the cover really does look like Fiona - I was very specific about her. I could see her clearly. Darsorin was harder - I mean, sure. Tall, dark, handsome and undead. But that leaves a lot of wiggle room. I feel like this cover really captured him well. The city in the background is Seattle, where the book is set. The flames - ah, the flames. This is where I had a moment's hesitation, because I feared that they would suggest this is a hot read. And it isn't. Fiona is asexual, so it can't be a hot book. But. Darsorin IS a demon. In order to heal, in order to restore his powers and his energy, he has to recharge in Hell every day. When the Devil gets mad at him, Darsorin ends up being lit on fire. So the whole flame motif is really important to the story. It really is a question of whether or not the flames of Hell can reach up and swallow Fiona the way they have Darsorin.

Are you currently working on another story? If so, we’d love some details.

Always working on another story. The current WIP is an odd sort of historical fantasy. I think. It's set right at the beginning of the Civil War. Ariana Bissett is a Union spy tasked with acquiring a certain set of cursed gold artifacts. Legend has it that these relics are powerful and whoever possesses them can tip the balance of the war in their preferred direction. So she'll have to steal a few of them. Not a problem, until the Confederates send a dispossessed British lord after the same artifacts. If I'm doing my job correctly, there's a hint of creepy in this story to go along with the supernatural bleeding through into Victorian and Civil War Era New Orleans.

Tell us about your favorite writing environment. Is it indoors, outdoors, a special room, etc.

My favorite place to write is at a local tea shop called Miro. It's in Old Ballard where the sidewalks are cracked and heaved by tree roots and part of the streets are paved, part are cobble stone. They have a nook tucked into a corner that looks out onto the street. The staff bring me tea and the occasional goody and don't at all mind that I camp out for three or four hours. (That's two pots of tea for those keeping track.)

How long have you been writing? How long have you been published?

The writing bug bit when I was a kid and the tiny library in the town I lived in ran out of stories I wanted to read. I got bored and it finally occurred to me to make up a story I wanted to read. Then a movie when I was 12 ended so badly and made me so mad, I spent my entire summer rewriting the ending for myself on my mother's typewriter. No correction ribbon. There are a lot of xxxxxxx'd out lines on those pages. (Yes, I do still have them. In storage. If the mice haven't made them into nesting material by now. The story was terrible. I hope mice can't read.) Anyway, that was the summer I think I offically became lost to writing. I got caught up in it and just never quit. Even if I was making up stories when I should have been taking notes in math class. I didn't actually attempt to get anything published, however, until the mid to late 90s. That was when I quickly found out how much I didn't know. I joined RWA and began learning. I tried romantic suspense, contemporary and fantasy. It wasn't until I went to my first love - science fiction - that I had any success. Enemy Within was picked up by an agent in early 2009 and sold to Berkley in September of that same year. Easy The Call day - it was 9/9/09.

Do you prefer to write short stories, novellas or novels? Why?

If we go by what I have out in the world, novels clearly win. I'm terrible about 'and then'. Complication (in fiction) delights me. Drama and complication in the real world expose me for the introverted geek I am and I just pull the bed covers up over my head. But on paper, it's kind of fun. For that reason, though, I do force myself to write shorter forms once in awhile. It's a really useful exercise to make myself strip a story down to its most basic, most compact bits. That way, when I go back to novels, there's some hope that they're cleaner. Tighter, maybe. That's the illusion I carry around with me, anyway.

Do you write books in series? If so, share a bit about the series you currently have published or are coming soon.

I do write in series, though, I will say that was not my natural state when I began. I wanted to write stand alone novels. But when my first book was sold in 2009, the very first question the publisher asked was 'can you make this a series?' I scrambled. Did. And now, everything is a series. The first series is SFR - Enemy Within and Enemy Games - the publisher shut the series down unfinished. I'm working on that part. There are three more books coming to finish that series out. The second is The Living Ink series, Nightmare Ink and Bound By Ink. Those are Urban Fantasy. I'm in the middle of drafting book one of a vaguely steampunky historical fantasy called The Artifacts of the Aegean. The genereal premise is that a set of mysterious, and some say cursed, gold tiles could tip the balance of the US Civil War should one side manage too accummulate them. Something Union spy Ariana Bissett is tasked with achieving. She hadn't counted on the Confederates sending a British lord to fight her for them.

If you could make changes to a story you’ve already written, which would it be and why?

I would change the ending of ENEMY GAMES. Right now, that book ends on a cliffhanger. You do not know if a major character is alive or dead. That was supposed to have been a hook into book three. Which might have worked had the publisher not folded the series at the end of book two. Readers were left disappointed. I was left disappointed and the heroine of book three in that series was left disappointed. She's a demolitions expert. This is not someone you want hanging out in your head expressing her discontent over the situation. Yeah. I'd change that ending.


The problem with being damned was that no one would meet your eye.

Darsorin Incarri squared his shoulders and glanced into the faces of the people passing him on the sidewalk. They'd look one another in the eye. Smile. Say, 'good morning.' But for someone whose soul had been claimed by the Devil? Nothing.

People would try. There’d be a split second of eye contact, then, as if the varied torments of Hell were somehow reflected in his eyes, their gazes would run away. Every time.

Shivering in the May sunshine, he shoved his clenched fists into the pockets of his black leather jacket. A single crumb of human warmth that wasn't infernally compelled, surely that shouldn’t be too much to ask. Even for a damned soul.

He pushed through the door of a tiny drug store around the corner from his office and trudged to the pharmacy in the back.

“May I help you?” The pharmacist wore her strawberry blonde hair pulled into a swinging ponytail. Her name tag said ‘Fiona.’ Glasses, thick jade frames and barely-there lenses, heightened the olive of her eyes and magnified the smoky eyeliner and shadow she wore. Lush, full lips, painted clear pink smiled at him.

She met his gaze firmly.

No flinching.

No hint of nervous energy.

He pulled in a slow breath. The woman of his dreams–dreams he didn’t know he had, because Hell has a way of grinding those right out of a damned soul–and here he was picking up itch cream for his boss.
“Prescription for Louis Sieffer.”

She turned away to leaf through the white prescription bags before turning back armed with one of them. “Here we go. Have you used this medication before?”

Her white coat washed out her pale complexion, but the lavender silk collar of her blouse, peeking from beneath the coat, caught his imagination. The silk must be worshipping the curves her abomination of a coat all but eradicated.

He sucked a breath in between clenched teeth as his body hardened. Game on. Another soul to seduce for Ole Scratch.

Without conscious thought, he hit her with sex magic. Marking her. Warning off rivals, and maybe, tipping her off, too, so they could both revel in the anticipation. Lust spiked all around him in the cramped, back corner of the drug store where three other women and one man, thin enough to blow away in a breeze, perched on hard plastic chairs, waiting for their prescriptions. He breathed it in, tasting, confused. None of it seemed to emanate from the young woman he held in his predatory crosshairs. She radiated friendly warmth, not insatiable desire like the rest of the females within ten feet of him–like she should.

He latched onto the desire surging around him. Three women. Three separate threads of want. All for the taking. Their want fed him, spilling into the empty space where his forfeited soul should have been. While he wanted the pharmacist, he’d been presented with a buffet of feminine sexual drive, he sampled the offerings. Longing was heady, addicting stuff. The unfulfilled yearning plunked into the dark well of him, tantalizing him with the sensation that he could be filled up, that he could feel almost human again.


He smiled and sucked harder on the women’s dissatisfaction and burgeoning appetite.

“Mr. Sieffer? Sir, have you used this medication before?” the pharmacist repeated, her voice clear and alluring as a shot of the smoothest whiskey.

“For eternity,” he said. Why wasn’t she inarticulate with need?

Her smile fell and she leaned closer, lowering her voice. Captivated, he mirrored her until he could have pretended to lose his balance and have their lips meet over the middle of the counter. He caught the faintest hint of perfume. Rose and jasmine. Hunger he hadn’t experienced in centuries spiked his blood–different from his soul-bound compulsion to service as many women as possible in the name of Hell. This delectable morsel kindled the lecherous nature that had damned him in the first place. He could consume her. His mouth watered. He would.

Drunk with wanting her, he downed another shot of the unrequited desire he’d tapped from the other women.

“Certain STDs can be difficult to control, but this ointment should give you some relief from the pain and itch . . .”

Sympathy, cool, blessed sympathy, smacked him in the face like a dead fish. What she’d said–what she thought–registered. He jerked upright.

“It’s not for me!” he said. “I’m picking this up for a–friend.”

Her pink lips twitched.

Adorable. Kissable. Bitable.

“Believe me,” he said, vitally aware that his voice had dropped just like every ounce of blood in his body had. “This is better than the snake oil and wormwood he’s been using for the past thousand years.”

Oh, that didn’t sound weird. Or like he had a gay lover. He closed his eyes. Smooth, Incubus. Real smooth. What the hell had happened to his ironclad contract that assured he’d always be supernaturally sexy? Every woman’s dream? 

About the Author 

Marcella Burnard graduated from Cornish College of the Arts with a degree in acting. She writes science fiction romance for Berkley Sensation. Her first book, Enemy Within won the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice award for Best Futuristic of 2010. The second book in the series, Enemy Games, released on May 3, 2011. An erotica novella, Enemy Mine, set in the same world as the novels was released as an e-special edition by Berkley in April 2012. Emissary, a sword and sorcery short story released in the two volume Thunder on the Battlefield Anthology in the second half of 2013. Nightmare Ink, an Urban Fantasy novel from Intermix came out in April of 2014 and the second in that Living Ink series, Bound by Ink, came out in November 2014. Damned If He Does, a light paranormal romance came out in July 2016.

She lives aboard a sailboat in Seattle where she and her husband are outnumbered by cats.

Twitter: @marcellaburnard

Instagram: @marcellaburnard