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Monday, March 7, 2011
Celts & More. Kris Tualla's, A Woman of Choice. Comment for a Chance to Win Big!
Welcome to my Celts and More blog event! For those of you joining me for the first time this particular event highlights not only the Celtic work written by some of your favorite romance authors but also something they’ve penned from another genre. Basically, it’s all about expanding your pallet!
As an added bonus, each and every participating author will be providing a never-before-read scene from their featured story. That means this scene has not been published. It’s either a deleted scene or one written especially for this blog post.
This week it’s my pleasure to introduce internationally published best-selling author Kris Tualla.
Before we continue a quick word from Kris… "For every 10 people who comment here EVERY DAY, I will give away one free e-copy of A Woman of Choice – the beginning of the trilogy. And, yes. Commenter #11 warrants 2 copies! Comment #21? I’ll give away three."
Wow, very generous! Thanks Kris!
A little bit about each book…
A WOMAN OF CHOICE
A woman is viciously betrayed and abandoned by her unfaithful husband. She is rescued by a widower uninterested in love. In desperation, she becomes engaged to his best friend. One woman, three very different men. Life is about choices.
A PRINCE OF NORWAY
American-born Nicolas Hansen has been asked to candidate for his great-grandfather's throne. His new wife Sydney isn't about to let him go to Norway and face that possibility alone. The moment they arrive at Akershus Castle, the political intrigue and maneuvering begin. Can Sydney trust anyone? Will Nicolas resist the seduction of power? Or will he claim the throne for himself? Most importantly: will their young marriage survive the malicious mischief of the ambitious royal family?
A MATTER OF PRINCIPLE
Nicolas Hansen has returned from Norway determined to change the world. But when he runs for State Legislator in the brand-new state of Missouri, the enemies he made over the past two years aren't about to step quietly aside. Sydney has made enemies of her own, both by marrying Nicolas and by practicing midwifery. When a newspaper reporter makes it his goal to destroy them, Nicolas must rethink his path once again. But this time, it's a matter of principle.
Deleted Scene from "A Woman of Choice"
May 25, 1819
People acquainted with Nicolas considered him a man who was adept at hiding his emotions. In truth, what Nicolas had become good at was not having emotions. After his wife died, he practiced daily until it became second nature to him. At least until this unsettling woman, Sydney, tumbled into his life.
Lily sat silent beside Nicolas, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. She jumped up when the song ended and shouted, “Let’s play charades!”
“We’ll draw for sides.” Rickard broke twigs into two different lengths and arranged them in his hand. “Each person who wants to play needs to pick a stick!”
Seven players stepped forward, five drew short sticks and two drew long ones.
“I’ll go to the other side,” Nicolas volunteered. “That makes it four and three.” He stepped to the smaller group and stood right next to Sydney.
Lily was in the larger group. “No, Nicolas! We should all draw again!”
Rickard scoffed, “Nonsense, Lily. This is fine. And I’ll pick the category and be the judge!”
Lily’s irritation was clear to Nicolas. He wiped a grin away.
“Oh, very well,” she huffed. “Here’s how the game goes: each side chooses something for the other group to figure out. One person on that side pantomimes and the others try and guess.”
“Will there be a winner?” Lee Matthews asked Rickard.
“The group that discerns the answers fastest, of course. And the category shall be…” Rickard steepled his fingers and tilted his head. “Shakespeare’s plays!”
The two groups huddled. After a minute, Rickard spoke up. “Lily, your group will decide who acts first, and then Nick’s group will tell you what to act out.” Rickard turned to Nicolas. “Ready?”
Nicolas nodded. Lee approached and Nicolas gave him the challenge. Lee thought a minute, and then faced his group. He began to wave his hands in the air, pointing at the sky.
Lee shook his head. He placed his palms together, laid them alongside his head and closed his eyes.
“Sleep? ‘To sleep, perchance to dream’?”
“Hamlet!” Lily shouted.
Lee shook his head again; Nicolas and his team stifled their snickers. Lee pointed at the sky again, and then mimed sleep once more.
Lee nodded and pointed to the night above them.
Lee nodded again and mimed sleep.
“Night and dream? A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Jess guessed.
“Yes!” Lee shouted. His group clapped their hands.
“Alright, now it’s Nick’s turn.” Rickard directed his attention to the smaller group.
“I’ll go first,” Sydney volunteered. She crossed to the other group to hear her challenge. Nodding, she turned to face her team, and smiled. Sydney sat on the edge of the brick fire ring with her legs straight out in front of her. With her arms, she pantomimed rowing a boat.
“Rowing?” Margaret looked puzzled. “What play is about boats?”
“Not rowing, row.” Nicolas winked his compliment at Sydney. “Romeo and Juliet!”
The small group applauded while Lily’s group, stunned by the rapid resolution, consoled each other.
“Well played!” Rickard commended.
Beth McGovern was next. She faced her companions and held her hands up, all fingers splayed. Then she folded all but two. Faced with blank looks, she did it again.
“Oh!” Lily hopped up and down. “Twelve! The Twelfth Night!”
Her group clapped.
“Right, then!” Rickard looked to Nicolas’s team. “You’re still ahead based on the first challenge. Who’ll go next?”
Margaret Brown looked at Nicolas. Her expression shouted she’d rather die than take the next turn. Resigned, Nicolas walked to the other group to receive their challenge. When he heard it, he paused, frowning.
“Are you ready, Nick?” Rickard asked.
Nicolas nodded and made deliberate eye contact with Sydney. She was smart enough to catch his clues. He raised his right fist and slashed it down as though stabbing something in front of him.
Nothing. He did it again.
“Murder?” Sydney deduced.
Nicolas nodded enthusiastically and pointed at her.
“Murder? That’s not much help, sir. What Shakespeare play is not about murder?” Margaret laughed.
Nicolas shook his head and tried a different approach. He began to hop from one foot to the other around the fire. Sydney started to chuckle and clapped her hand over her mouth. Nicolas tucked his thumbs and set both palms against the sides of his head, fingers in the air. He continued to hop around the fire.
“What’s that? A crown? Feathers?” Sydney laughed.
Nicolas nodded and increased his rhythmic stomp.
Margaret turned to Sydney, baffled. “Is he an Indian?”
Nicolas pointed at Margaret. Sydney didn’t hold back her amusement. Watching a six-foot-four-inch Norwegian hop around the fire with his hands on his head was, apparently, extremely funny to her.
“You’re—an—Indian?” she whooped.
Nicolas nodded, grinning widely.
Seeing he was getting nowhere, he moved on. He lifted his hands higher, indicating a much larger cranial addition. Then he leapt around the fire as gracefully as he could, toes pointed. Sydney was laughing so hard, she couldn’t speak.
“Are you a deer?” Margaret ventured.
Nicolas waved at her. Then he pretended to gut himself. He pointed at his limbs.
“Butcher?” Margaret guessed. “Meat? Venison?”
Nicolas nodded and pointed again.
Sydney collapsed to her knees in hysterics, of no discernable help whatsoever. “Murder Indian Venison!” she wheezed. “One of Shakespeare’s finest!”
Nicolas laughed out loud at that, breaking the rules. He wagged his finger at the two women, trying to indicate that it was something like that.
“Do that ‘Indian’ part again,” Rickard suggested, a wide grin betraying his motive.
Nicolas shot him a look but, in the spirit of the game, took great one-footed hops around the fire. Knowing they had already lost this round, Nicolas added sound to his display, grunting in rhythm with his footfalls.
“Chanting!” Margaret surmised.
Now Nicolas’s laughter was louder than his grunts.
“Murder Chanting Venison?” Margaret was clearly stumped.
Sydney was doubled over, laughing so hard she wasn’t making any sound. Tears ran down her cheeks and Nicolas was she was afraid she might lose bodily control and embarrass herself.
“Mur—chant—of—Ven—is!” she managed to gasp.
“Yes!” Nicolas dropped to his knees, grateful arms high in the air.
“Merchant of Venice?” Margaret looked puzzled. “Oh! I understand! Just use part of the words!”
Sydney seemed out of control, and Nicolas was right with her. He climbed to his feet and stumbled over, intending to help her up. Instead he dropped in front of her and roared. His loud guffaws echoed off the house.
“Murder Indian Venison!” he whooped. “That’s the one where the Raj of India’s pet deer is killed!”
Sydney nodded and waved her hands. “And he talks to the antlers… Alas, poor Buck, I knew him well!” By now, the entire party joined the hilarity. The game was clearly over.
“We concede,” Nicolas croaked to Rickard. “We have been bested.”
“We won!” Lily clapped her hands.
But no one else heard her over their laughter.
Excellent excerpt, Kris! Thanks for sharing!
What they’re saying…
RT Book Reviews - 4 Stars!
"A riveting novel showing that dirty politics have been around for a long time. The story is quite emotional with plenty of action. Nicolas and Sydney may have serious problems, but they also share a deep love and lots of laughter!"
Don’t forget, for every 10 people who comment here EVERY DAY, I will give away one free e-copy of A Woman of Choice – the beginning of the trilogy. And, yes. Commenter #11 warrants 2 copies! Comment #21? I’ll give away three.
Interested in meeting another great author? Then be sure to pop over to The Write Life!
Award-winning New Hampshire native, Sky Purington writes a cross genre of paranormal/fantasy romance heavily influenced by history. From Irish Druids to Scottish Highlanders many of her novels possess strong Celtic elements. More recently, her vampire stories take the reader to medieval England and ancient Italy. Make no mistake, in each and every tale told you'll travel back to another time and revisit the romanticism history holds at its heart. Sky welcomes feedback from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington.com.
Contest winners are selected by me using the random generator shown below. Each commenter who follows the rules given each week-whether it's to answer a question or simply comment-is assigned a number according to when they left their comment. For example: Jane comments first, then Sue, then Maria. Jane becomes #1, Sue #2, Maria #3. If the contest requires an answer to be left and Jane and Maria answer it, Sue does not, then Jane and Maria have entered the contest. Therefore, Jane is #1 and Maria is #2. Make sense? All numbers are then entered into the Random Generator. The number selected is therefore the winner. Make no mistake, I welcome those of you who choose not to enter the contest. Kind comments are always well received by visiting authors! Thanks so much. ~Sky
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