Just Imagine

Just Imagine

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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.

Monday, August 30, 2010

UK Heroes Time! Jaclyn Tracey's, Eden's Black Rose. Comment for a chance to win!

Welcome to my Sizzlin’ Hot Heroes of Scotland, Ireland, England & Wales blog event. Though this week marks the last of this particular blog event, be sure to pop in throughout September as I welcome more fantastic authors. Oh, did I mention Blogmania is a mere two weeks away?! Then it's on to my autumn Song of the Muses event. Details coming soon.

This week it’s my pleasure to welcome back talented romance author, Jacklyn Tracey. She’ll be chatting about the English hero in her latest novel, Eden’s Black Rose. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win an Ecopy of Eden’s Black Rose and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press!

Eden’s Black Rose

Eden’s Black Rose, is a paranormal romance set in London, 1896. Dr. Serina Spencer is a young woman with hidden talents that she’d like kept that way, hidden. While walking home from the morgue she inadvertently wishes for a man to show up on her door stoop, alive, in one bloody piece, betrothed to no one and interested in anyone other than himself for a welcome change.

Serina finds out the hard way it’s not so much what you wish for, but more importantly, how you wish for it, when a young man gets delivered to her door ravaged and left for dead after a vampire attack. After years of hiding her powers from the world Serina is faced with a choice—use them or lose the one man that can make her dreams come true.

Lucian St. James is not your typical royal heir to the throne, wanting nothing to do with his heritage until that option is stolen from him. Awakening in a bloody carriage with a gorgeous green-eyed beauty buried within his loins he finds out fast all things are not as they seem. Countless lies have been told, family members murdered and now Lucian and Serina find themselves in the centre of a macabre plot to knock out all heirs to the throne beginning with him on his honeymoon.

SKY: Welcome back Jaclyn, thanks for joining me this week!

JACLYN: Hey Sky, nice to be back here with you. Thank you for the invite. Hope your summer has been filled with warm sunny days and even steamier nights.

SKY: *Grins* It was indeed! Must admit, it went by way too fast. I suppose summers tend to do that though. Okay, let’s dive into your story a bit. Tell me, what inspired you to create Lucian’s character? Did he simply form as you wrote or had he been in your mind for some time?

JACLYN: Lucian St. James, my hero, started out as my villain when I first started writing this. His charms, sense of humor, loyalty and rugged good lucks quickly swayed my fingers into typing him into our hearts instead of staking him. Lucian’s personality is far too generous to be anything other than one lovable English gent.

SKY: Isn’t it amazing how our characters like to transform themselves? Lucian already sounds intriguing. Give me a little insight into his personality. Is he cunning, aggressive, arrogant, kind, humorous─share all!

Broken Black Roses Pictures, Images and Photos

JACLYN: Lucian has a strong sense of self and loyalty. He has cared and stuck by his sister, Raven, after their parents were murdered. He’s never taken the time to for himself so when he meets Serina, he’s like a love sick puppy. He can’t get enough of her. Especially after his turn, which lends havoc to the sequel.

Concealed by the darkness just beyond the campsite, he watched them sleep. A grin slowly worked its way to his face when his eyes lit upon Serina. He moved closer and added more wood to the fire to keep them warm and to keep animals away.


He stifled the desire to throttle him. André lay protectively next to Serina, circling her with his body, yet not touching her. Close, but not too close. After the entanglement between them today on the mountain, they’d have to be watched. Can’t have your brother sleeping with your wife. Doesn’t make for pleasantries, period.

Witnessing them together earlier stopped his heart, for a second time. He’d never lived through anything so painful. Jasper’s bite didn’t hold a candle to watching his beloved bride come close to getting full carnal knowledge of his twin. Even knowing Jasper caused this didn’t lessen his anguish. Hearing Serina calling André by his name, eased his burden some, but none-the-less, it left a bitter taste upon his lips. He couldn’t intervene, couldn’t stop the struggles between Serina and André because his needs overrode his emotions. He needed blood and seeing his brother’s hands on Serina’s ass made him want to rip out his twin’s throat and drain his last drop from him. And dear God, how close he actually came to doing it! He left to regain what precious little control he owned. He would not turn into the monster that did this to him.


He cast an unappreciated glance towards the werewolf. He still couldn’t get over the word belonged in his vocabulary along with vampires and witches. Curled up in a ball, knees to chest, and no headrest Jonah’s neck looked broken. Maybe Duncan snuck in and got him after all. He waited for the rise and fall of Jonah’s chest. He knew Duncan would never kill him, but he could hate him to death, for all the good it would do. He wasn’t at all sure what to do with Jonah. The werewolf didn’t stand a chance against the vampire’s enthrallment. He held remorse for the man/wolf. Lucian read Serina’s mind and heard of his life’s tragedies. Jonah seemed stuck in a cyclic intrinsic volatile atmosphere. Oddly, he categorized himself in the same sphere. They’d become two peas in a pod, like it or not. As far as Jonah’s welfare went, he would make no decisions in haste. With time now on his side, he would wait and see how Jonah played his hand. Even though Jonah did nothing to stop Jasper from killing him, the man helped Serina and that alone won his respect.


He eyed his best mate, his body guarded, rigid, his breathing rough and ragged. He appeared completely uncomfortable, as if plagued by nightmares. “What to do with you, my old man?” he wondered aloud. “I need you to know things will work themselves out.” He wanted to wake Duncan and hug the man, but he resisted. He had other needs that required his full attention. The little woman lying in front of him being his first concern.


She resembled a living angel asleep with a trace of a devilish grin on her lips. Be still my beating heart. The course of love never does run smoothly.

After sitting by the fire for an hour, he carefully sauntered to her side. Nothing stirred under foot. He placed his hand over her hands. Her warmth reached up to touch him.

She wrapped her fingers around his, held him close. Serina never woke, unaware her dream stood before her. He bent to her and inhaled her scent, held it deep in his lungs until they burned for release. Her body shivered beneath his touch as he skimmed over cures. With his lips on her neck, he waited to feel her pulse ebbing. He found it and reeled back, almost landing in the fire. It was too dangerous next to her. She was warm and alive.

He wasn’t sure what the hell he was.

Her pulse lured him to her. She was the siren, he the enthralled vampire too new at this to understand a damned thing. This undeniable urge to take her regardless of consequence pummeled his will to a mere thread. He’d bitten her once already. He told himself he’d done it out of necessity to try and protect her from Jasper. Was he kidding himself? In all likelihood yes, but he had to get control of her before he lost her to that hideous beast. What would happen if he bit her again? His incisors lengthened.

Only one way to find out!

Lucian hung his head in shame. He lacked the strength to walk away even as his body screamed for sustenance, for his wife. He couldn’t move, he felt caged, with nowhere to run. Then she stirred. She rolled over, her eyes blanketed by thick dark lashes, and her lips curled, into a smile he would treasure for an eternity. Her beauty melted his being, and brought him back to life.

Serina stretched her arms out over her head slowly, not really trying to catch anyone. She wrapped her arms around his neck and reeled him in.

Her fingers gently twirled through his silken tendrils. She took a deep breath and recognized his scent—so sweet, so damned close her heart flip-flopped.

Serina pulled his face next to hers and brushed her lips against his cheek. He felt so real she didn’t want to wake up. She didn’t want to lose the closeness she now had with him. She would not live through the loss again. “Take what you need from me, Lucian. My life is yours, my love is yours, my heart is yours. Always, I am yours,” she whispered lost in her dream. “I love you.”

“I love you too, M’lady.” Salt-laden tears spilled and wet his lips. He tried wiping them away before they reached her, but a few slid onto her cheek. With a gentle caress, he brushed them away. As he bent forward to kiss the corner of her mouth, she turned into him, her warm lips touching his. His body shuddered, his heart slammed in his chest, and his penis turned to solid rock. Thank god it still works! Yes, it was on his top-five worry list. The remaining four seemed moot at this point. As he met her lips she opened her mouth, her tongue teased.

Eyes open, Serina smiled as if she’d never seen anything more beautiful or precious in her life. She hadn’t. “You kept your promise to me. Or I must be a pretty good witch to have dreamt you up and made you real. You’re definitely better than Pinocchio.”

“Harder too!”

She couldn’t help but giggle. His sense of humor was still intact.

One more Lucianism for you:

The squeak from the door’s hinge grabbed Chyna’s attention. The over-zealous vamp wrenched her head a full one hundred-eighty degrees around without so much as moving her feet an inch in any direction. Bones cracked and the unnatural sounds filled the car. Chyna stood there with her mouth hung open, her four carried fangs visible. “Lucian you were able to breach the confines I’d set. How?” she asked curious.

Too amazed at what she’d just done to her body, Lucian couldn’t answer her. That she turned her head behind her was an implausible anomaly. That she stood in her current constitution bewildered the dickens out of him.

Duncan managed to whispered, “What Lucian did is nothing compared to what you just did. Trust me.”

Lucian elbowed him.

“What? Luce, give it up. She one-upped you this time,” he spit out.

Chyna gave a small curtsy to Duncan and then sent her sights on Serina and Payton.

Chyna’s black eyes were a complete contrast to Payton’s new stark-white color when he realized he was the new object of her affections.

Chyna held her finger to the small, blond chef. “Hold that thought, boy. You and I shall sink our teeth into something juicy in just a bit… That would be me doing the sinking and you being the juice.” She turned and lunged at Lucian while ordering Phillip, “Get up off your corpulent back you oversized eunuch and help me.”

Phillip rolled his eyes, and made no move to jump up and kiss her royal tush.

Lucian sidestepped to Duncan’s left allowing Chyna the opportunity to slam head first into the same wall she had shown Duncan and Jonah.

“Turn around is fair play.” Lucian laughed until he saw the malice in her black eyes.

Chyna let loose an ungodly cry as she ordered her sentinel to his feet. With no tolerance left for her bodyguard, she held her arms in front of her, and jerked them into the air. Phillip was ripped from the floor much like a marionette being tugged upward and suspended.

“You malicious bitch,” Phillip swore, “I’ve given you my life and you treat me like a puppet.”

Seems the toothless one has a bit of a bite after all. Lucian studied Chyna’s movements and what happened when she did. Like some old biddy with swollen ankles, he retained everything.

Just as Phillip’s feet hit the floor, the train jolted unexpectedly forward and Phillip took a hard dive, taking André down with him, again.

Crushed beneath four hundred pounds or better, André could barely breathe, certain he’d received a few broken ribs in the fall because pain radiated through his chest. Panic hastened his ability to breathe more so. André did the only thing he could think of at that point and that was scream for help. The lips moved but no sound came forth.

Ands, relax. Inhale slowly. You’re easier to read than Braille. Lucian knew André inside out. He had always been just short of fanatical when it came to his cleanliness. Despite everything going wrong, Lucian smiled. It really sunk in that he had a brother and that he was going to watch over him and enjoy him for a long time to come, of course, that was after he kicked the living daylights out of him for touching his wife. First things first! Then he’d enjoy him.

Serina watched with admiration the way Lucian handled his situation. So much on his plate and yet he remained true to himself and a gentleman. She noticed him smiling at his brother and before she knew it… I love your lips. You are so handsome. The thought came uncensored. No one needed distractions just yet, but maybe later.

I’m grateful you love my lips. Later, I plan to show you just how well they love you.

André rolled his eyes. Being able to read his brother’s thoughts placed him oddly in the middle of what should have been a private moment between husband and wife.

Would you two save it for later? Can you not see me down here dying? André tried a smile but his chest really hurt.

Serina sent her powers to André and scanned his chest. Since she had no blood bond with André, she relayed her thoughts to Lucian.

Lucian, tell André, his ribs are cracked, but his lungs and heart are safe for now, as long as no further damage is done.

’Tis been nice knowing you, Ands. Serina asks if you have any last wishes?

“What?” Both André and Serina asked at the same time.

Lucian laughed. “You’ll live to see another day, as long as we get off this train.”

SKY: Great excerpt! Turning up the temperature─Why are readers going to fall in love with your hero-lust for him?

JACLYN: Sparkling silvery-blue eyes that heat you up faster than mercury. A grin that can eat you alive and you’d willingly allow it. And a muscle clad body with an idealistic view of life that as long as you can laugh, you’ve got it made. Lucian wears his heart on his sleeve, which probably isn’t the best plan for a vamp. Makes for an easy target. Those he befriends, he hold dear to him and those who wrong him will meet his wrath.

A taste…

The carriage ride to the station allowed no time for even the quickest little tryst… but then there was the ride to Virginia Falls. Between the Pullman Limited Express train, which began its routes in 1883, and horseback up the mountain they’d make time. Lucian made certain their private car came with a butler, bath and bed. He asked the room be filled with fresh flowers, champagne, chocolates and berries, and luxurious sapphire-colored silk sheets with white rose petals scattered across them to welcome his new bride.

Entering their car, Serina pointed to a gift that lay in the center of the bed. “Lucian, really you shouldn’t have.” Regardless, she wasted no time picking the gift up and rattling it. “This is the most stunning closet-sized room I’ve ever stepped foot in. Did I ever mention I am claustrophobic?” She wasn’t kidding. Her heart kicked up a notch. Even though the tiny boxcar had all the amenities of home, it was crammed into a eight by eight foot room. The bed, the loo, the shower and a table with two chairs filled every square inch. She looked up at her husband with eyes wide. “The rose petals remind me of home, flowers all over the bleeding place. The strawberries are nice, but I have afflictions to them. I’ll turn into one giant hive if I eat them. The silky sheets look dangerous. Slippery when wet comes to mind. Guess I’ll have to hold on tight to you.” She shifted her brows in her non-prim non-proper motion.

Not quite the reaction he was hoping for. She sounded skeptical. He wanted her bubbling over with joy so he could do the same. He had his work cut out. “Go on, undo this one.” He tapped on the gift.

She pulled out a shear, black lace negligee that looked very close to the one she had on the first night they had met. Her green eyes smoldered when she turned to him. Just as he’d hoped. Maybe this would take her mind off her worries. She could place all her energies to use in other areas…. Him.

She bit her bottom lip as she squeezed around the chairs to the edge of the bed. She sat down and held her hands out to him.

“Would you undress me, M’lord, if it’s not too much trouble? I’m feeling rather overdressed for the occasion at hand. This little lace coat is beautiful. I can’t wait to put it on.”

“I told you you’d want out of that cumbersome dress.” Lucian’s husky voice offered a warm entanglement of their bodies with passion steaming the windows of the car. He stood Serina with her back to him and began to undo what seemed like an infinite number of buttons. “Did I mention to you today that you are the most beautiful goddess on the planet?”

“I’m easy. Keep ’em coming. One more won’t hurt.” Serina laughed.

He edged her gown from her shoulders, but stopped the dress from falling just short of her breasts. All in due time! Her eyes held fire and brimstone when he faced her. That glance caused his gut to tighten and his loins to feel more like watermelons tucked in his trousers. “I’m enchanted by the fact you are indeed my wife, my lover, and my heart.” He let the dress slip down over her breasts.

Every nerve in her body reacted to his touch, his scent, his caress. Her breasts became firm, her nipples hard peaks with each breath that passed over her.

He captured her at her waist, and when his lips met her skin a flame scorched its way to the juncture between her thighs.

That fast. Foreplay? Yes, it was indeed torturously fun, but she was already there. He began at her wrists, moving lazy little kisses upward. Anxious, she drew Lucian’s lips to her chest and looked down to him, pleading without words.

He shook his head no. She grunted.

Lucian wanted to take his time with her. He kissed his way over her shoulder and worked his way to her neck. Once he found that spot she seemed to adore, he nipped hard. More sounds slipped from his new bride as she dug her fingers into his hair and crushed him to her.


“Not tonight, Lady St. James. I will not give you what you want until I am more than certain you cannot take one second more. You told me I could have my way with you, so I am holding you to your word.”

SKY: Another fantastic excerpt! Thanks so much for visiting and sharing!

JACLYN: Sky, I hope you enjoyed the little snippets from the book. I have to tell you, you’re a gracious hostess. I appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me to share a little taste of Lucian. I’m certain he’d appreciate the same. He and Serina have their work cut out for them in the sequel, which is almost ready!!!

SKY: My pleasure, Jaclyn. You're always welcome!

Don't want to wait? Have to read this story now? Click here to purchase now!

Interested in learning more about this fantastic author? Visit Jaclyn at her Website.

Enjoy Blogging? Visit Jaclyn at Eden's Black Rose Blogspot.

Don’t forget, for a chance to win an Ecopy of Eden’s Black Rose and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press, be sure to leave a comment by 12 PM EST Friday, September 3rd.

Thanks for stopping by!


Skhye Moncrief's, Feral Fascinations. We have a contest winner!

Wow! What a fantastic weekend. Sounds like we're all eager to read Skhye Moncrief's latest publication, Feral Fascinations. The lucky winner of this weekend's contest is...Crazy Cat Lady. Congrat's! Please contact me at Skypurington@live.com to collect your prize.

Enjoy your week everyone!


Friday, August 27, 2010

Skhye Moncrief goes Erotic with Feral Fascinations. Comment to win!

Well, we’re almost there. TGIF time! How am I getting revved up for this weekend? By sharing a friend with you. We Sky/Skhye's come together again. Yep, you may have heard of her…super talented, Skhye Moncrief has returned to my blog to share her ‘hot off the press’ romantic/erotica release, Feral Fascinations. As it’s the weekend, we’re keeping it casual, kickin’ back with a cup of java (tea in Skhye’s case). Naturally, there’s a lil’ extra fun to be had. Skhye would like to offer a giveaway. SO, one lucky commenter will win an Ecopy of Swordsong. Winner to be announced at this blog first thing Monday morning. All right, here we go. Sit back and enjoy! I’ve scattered a few of her book covers throughout for your viewing pleasure.

Feral Fascinations

Beyond rebels and rogues, the ultimate insurgents, psychic mercenaries, fight for your freedom of thought and hunt earth mates for one purpose--to defeat the universe's psychic emperor wanting to control all sentient beings through mind control. And you have no idea this war rages beyond the planet... Failure is not an option for the free-thinking universe.

The free thinking's universe's prized psychic mercenary, Red Trekaar, seduces an ex-mercenary from earth, a Violet Child of heightened psychic ability, who she feels can hold his own as a were-assassin, i.e. her psychic soul mate. But she's running out of time. A legend claims she will give birth to a child that will end the war. But gaining her mate's respect just might prove her greatest challenge of all.

A sexy Goth babe crosses Jake Straightarrow's path, and he wakes up in an alien-abduction nightmare with a chronic hard-on, powerless, labeled a blood fucker. She shanghaied him using some force's magnetic attraction. But a guy has self-respect. She should have earned his trust, then spread her legs. Especially after he learns sacred soul mates shape shift into uncontrollable werewolves trapped in a frenzied blood lust for their mate's blood. Self-control is what kept him alive so long. Now, the unshakable countdown to the moment he will shape shift ticks inside his head. His gut shouts escape stud service. Yet, humanity needs a hero. Colliding in a world of mind-reading games where one's best friend is the equivalent to one's worst enemy, each knows trusting the other is as dangerous as buying into their FERAL FASCINATIONS.

SKY: Welcome back! Thanks so much for joining me this weekend.

SKHYE: No problem. You know you’re one of my favorite author friends.

SKY: Ditto, lady. Wow! Must say, Feral Fascinations sounds like one fascinating story. *smiles* What sparked the idea for this tale?

SKHYE: A guy talking about balls of steel. Yep. That has nothing to do with what it turned into! LOL The opening was the extraterrestrial as it is now. But the hero evolved from detective hero to ex-mercenary in about ten seconds.

SKY: Love it! If Feral Fascinations’ heroine, Red Trekaar were sitting in on this interview, how would she describe herself?

SKHYE: She wouldn't even bother to answer. She’s trying to save the freaking universe!

SKY: Ah well, can’t really blame her, can I? I’d love to dive deeper into Red’s character. Mind sharing an excerpt from her point of view?

SKHYE: [Okay, first of all, these extraterrestrials are telepaths. So, they have to speak to lesser-evolved psychic earthlings the way we speak with each other…]

Kindrist stood inside the spaceship’s sliding silver door, above Jake’s head where he couldn’t detect her presence. Would he forgive her? Or hate her? He was the kind of man The Cause couldn’t rely on. A hothead. A loner abandoned by society because he didn’t fit in. Alas, Violet Children rarely fit in with their evolved psychic abilities. But she had witnessed the good in his thoughts through all those self-less actions. And now they were bound to each other beyond the restrictions of standard mental telepathy—that being he was lesser-evolved and higher-evolved psychics couldn’t mindspeak with him. He had to be convinced to help them defeat Voldon. Or all peoples would be enslaved, including Jake’s own.

“Is someone here?” Jake snarled.

The anger in his voice reflected his imprisonment. But releasing him before his debriefing would certainly result in a battle. This was not the time to fight or lie. Better to stand here and answer. “I am. Welcome aboard The Seeker.”

Jake’s chin snapped upward, and he shot a defiant stare at the shadows in her direction.

He couldn’t see her if his vision were anything lesser-evolved. But he knew she was there by the glare in his eyes.

The tranquilizer was wearing off. Time for a little persuasion. “My name is Red Kindrist Lotyl Trekaar. I will release you when you prove to me you can behave civilly.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Me? I’m the one shackled to a table. You need some etiquette lessons.”

“You feel like a caged animal. As anyone would. But I must know you can behave before I can release you.”

“If you want me to believe you, step on into to the light.”

A man who wanted to assess his captor. Typical mercenary reaction. Bending to his needs might gain her some power over him. Some control. Yet, no mercenary could refuse such a request from her mate.

His chest was incredible. He lay relaxed without a hint of duress. Oddly enough. One would expect him to fight for freedom.

The bulging muscles in his limbs called to her fingers. And his apparent interest in her beyond talking, an interest apparent in the bulge in his blanket, was a promise to force him to keep.

To release his bindings.… To unite again. Only a fool would let him off the table. She stepped into his view.

“You! What am I doing here?” He sneered.

So he remembered their encounter. At least, he had that to connect with before the sedative stole his memories.

“What do you want with me?”

At least, he seemed to control himself. “I’m free to tell you everything. But I want your promise that you will remain calm and listen.”

Her husband lay quietly.

Or the animal inside all beings took over.

What would he say?

“All right.” He jerked one of his arms against its restraint.

Then it begins. Sexual union or not. It was time to show this man she could be trusted. A soul mate had to be trusted. The Cause believed in him. He had to realize this singular point. She reached for the buttons on the bed’s small control panel and pushed the coded sequence.

His restraints popped open and dangled in the air.

He rose, grabbing his wrists, rubbing them.

Not all his body waited relaxed. His was willing for more unification.

Yet, he just stared at her with patience every father begged a child show.


Heat of desire ebbed through her core.

To have another round of mating….

Her mouth watered.

For sweet salty blood to melt across her tongue. To shove him against the examination table and take more of him. To weave their essences into one basic seed. The seed to grow into the promise of legend—a child who will bring free thinking to the universe.

Such strange raw need.


Animalistic lust.

A sensation beyond description.

Genetic mating proved stronger than she expected.

He stood there like he’d pounce any moment.


Why wouldn’t he just come to her? Set her inner beast free? She wanted to jump on him. Throw her legs across his iron body. Extinguish the indescribable craving buried deep inside her core.

If only she could read his lesser-evolved earthling thoughts.

To know he craved her.

To hear what he wanted to do to her.

How bizarre this detachment was. But that’s what the binding was for—to prevent any psychic being from detecting his presence during an attack. His lesser-evolved brain was the key to covert operations.

For the love of Devros, what brilliance in the act of marriage to these psychic earthlings.

Jake lunged across the room and grabbed her, shoving her into the shadows beyond the examination light’s illumination, against the spaceship’s cold hard metal wall.

The wall bit into her shoulder blades.

What was he doing?

His hot breath turned to a faint steam in the chilly corners of the shadowy sick bay.

Breathing seemed impossible with his twisted mask in her face.

“Who are you?” he growled.

Was that the sound of hunger or anger? Dare she admit everything now? If he wouldn’t accept his destiny, if he wouldn’t take her blood, she would turn into a raving beast after forty-eight hours and rampage through the ship on a blood hunt. Seducing him had been stupid. Only honesty would set things right between them. “I am your mate.”

He snarled. “Not the answer I wanted.” He stared at her lips.

Mesmerized. He could rip them off and chew them and the universe would continue expanding. “Take them. They are yours. Curtail this madness between us so we may speak civilly again.”

He yanked her elbow, whirled her one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, and shoved her backward.

The examination table caught her in the kidneys.

Pain shafted through her lower back.

Sweet merciful sensation. Now, she could think clearly again.

“Tell me who you are,” he demanded.

No wasting time with this earthling. Did he withhold his sexual need for self-preservation or more for pride? “I am mercenary Red Kindrist, the pawn in an endless battle between good and evil. And I have just recruited you.”

His angry mask transmuted into shock. “What? Nobody inducts me,” he roared.

He stood nude in all his human glory, muscles flinching as his situation was revealed.

Still desirous of her.

And there, in his body’s reaction to the news, he fought the yearning to unite with his mate. How could he refuse the instinctual command of genetic passion? Rather obsession, given her experience. She felt empty, needy, uncomfortable in her pants. Oh to shove them down. To sit on his discomfort and ride it into exhaustion.

His gaze scanned the room.

What did he search for?

He jumped toward the door.

The door whisked open.

“Wait.” How foolish of her to release him from his restraints. He’d run through the ship and possibly injure a crew member. What would they call her volatile earthling then? He was a threat enough already. She rammed feet into the metal floor beneath her.

The clack of her leather boots heralded her bursting into the brightly-lit corridor in pursuit of his contrary muscular backside that he paraded through the ship by running the opposite direction.

His long hair hid none of the finely-chiseled butt and legs she’d bound herself to. That probably wasn’t the reason the other three white-cloaked operatives in the long hall pressed their bodies against the ship’s silver walls. Jake had to be terrifying, an angered recruit on the loose. Rumored to be unpredictable. Dangerous. Deadly. She forced her legs to move faster.

Not difficult when you’re inhuman by earth’s definition and reared off-world where gravity was more forgiving. Humanoid, yes. But faster than the lithe perfect specimen of a Violet Child attempting escape. “Stop,” she shouted. “You endanger yourself in this futile attempt to flee.”

Why bother speaking in such an archaic form of communication?

Air molecules kissed her skin.

Have I taken to the air? Am I flying? Swooping down upon my prey? Oh for sweet salty blood. And to satiate the emptiness deep within through ingesting the tasty earthling’s blood after getting him tucked safely within their personal quarters. For that precious moment....

Gods, would her thoughts steal away her dignity? Soul-mate attraction was stronger than anyone could imagine. Especially for Jake who knew nothing of the madness. He needed help. Her respect. Or he would never find a place among free-thinkers. And she, the last of the Nulvitians, would never mother the child of legend. She reached for his swinging elbow.

The iron skin slid beneath her fingertips.

Fool. Could he not see there was nowhere to run in the winding sterile corridor? She leapt at his back and snaked her arms around his heaving chest’s warm pliable tissue.

Electricity tingled from her core to her toes.

Oh, what torture the universe played on those dabbling with genetic mysteries defying all scientific study.

Jake’s legs suddenly slithered between her boots. He fell, taking her along.

The solid floor jolted them into halting.

He rolled, knocking her against a wall, and tried to shake her off.

Not today. She held onto him like a Nulvitian lohl’s seven tentacles encircled his upper body.

“Enough,” Goro’s monotone voice commanded.

Surprisingly. The commander never spoke with his mouth. She craned her head to peer back up the corridor at Goro’s black leather pants and boots.

Jake had the sense to be still where his solid mass laid against the cold hard floor. But his lurching erection didn’t understand the commander’s language where it attempted to wrestle her thigh.

“This nonsense is beneath you both,” Goro said. “Come with me.” He spun on his heels and stepped down the hall.

Beneath her? Was that not the truth of things? She’d taken a soul mate and now struggled to contend with her future. Goro’s profound statements never failed to catch her off guard.

“Who is he?” Jake muttered.

She stared into her soul-mate’s dark unforgiving eyes. “Our commander. Please, Jake. I know how hard it is to remain calm. But he will answer your questions. I’m releasing you now.” She slid her arms from where they grappled his chest and got her boots beneath her.

Jake unfolded overhead.

The indomitable assassin. His movement was more like a blink than a man moving. Strange. Deadly. Bless the stars for Destiny’s forethought. She waved a palm toward the receding Goro’s flapping ankle-length black coat. “This way.”

Jake sized her up with a lengthy gaze raking up and down her leather mercenary’s outfit. His gaze paused at her heaving breasts.

Nice gesture. Every girl needs some reassurance. He’d be a bundle of sexual frustration until he burned it off every forty-eight hours though.

He looked both ways down the hall.

As if he still fancied escape possible. “Nulvitian mercenaries can outrun any earthling in seconds. You’re better off hearing what our commander has to say.” Would he listen?

He shot her a standard earthling go-to-Hell stare.

SKY: *low whistle* What an excerpt! Hero time. Jake Straightarrow sounds intriguing. If he were part of this interview, how would he describe himself?

SKHYE: He’d be wondering what you got for asking. *snort* And he’d run through a quick psychoanalysis of whatever you presented to him. Then he might come up with something clever to say about himself based on what he thinks you need to hear to shut you up.

SKY: Not gonna lie. Enjoy an assertive man. Bring in on, Jake! Okay, back to business, let’s do the same thing with Jake. How about an excerpt from his point of view?

SKHYE: [Okay, some of you may not like his choice of words.]

Jake could have pissed a trail before the window in his quarters where he paced, trying to work out a plan. His bladder was screaming. But caged dogs wouldn’t defile their quarters by pissing anywhere. Unfortunately, his bladder was on the verge of mutiny.
Where was his warden?

The damned door wouldn’t open.

His happy-place private room had turned into a cell when Red Kindrist disappeared all of twelve hours ago. Right after taking her sex stud out for a run around the corral.

How could any captive sleep? The ship seemed to be moving. Or points of light in space moved. Like he knew what was going on. The last frigging time he even thought about astronomy was when he was a kid. Talk about being in deep crap. Especially since his ramrod-straight cock he’d jammed inside his pants hadn’t given up the ghost.

And now he needed to piss.

Where’s the fricking john? Some draft into the ultimate foreign legion. So what was up with the female warden? She dragged him aboard this ship. For what? Sex and blood? A part of him was willing. With or without consent. But why give her what she wanted? Why succumb to the level of a blood fucker and lose all one had of his dignity? Just what is in this for me?

His gut snarled.

Food. These people obviously starved their prisoners into cooperation.

Just get out. Get home. He turned to the cold glass portal.

Nothing but black space and points of light out there. Home was gone.

Talk about screwed. Literally and physically. How could a man who knew nothing about flying anything more than a kite find his way back to earth now? Insane Darla might possibly pull off levitating an aircraft. She’d certainly want to leave. Well, if that freak could escape, she would have by now. Not an option. He sank his butt onto the hard bench.

His muscles twitched.

Sitting still was becoming impossible. He rose to his feet and continued pacing.

Would he be weak for complying with their demands? And just what did those demands entail? He needed a weapon. A tool. A pencil. Nothing but air rested on the tabletop and benches. One blanket and a small pillow rested atop the bed.

The door whisked open.

Red sauntered into the room with jet-black hair.

Good to see some folks on this cruise ship to the war zone were having a great day.

She glanced his direction and walked to the bed.

Pictures of her with her legs spread flashed in his mind. The memory of her wet heat....

His body ached to mount her.

And to take those muscled legs and wrap them around his waist. God, to end the madness of his screaming body.

She stretched out on her side upon his bed with her shoulder and the swell of her hip thrust toward the barren ceiling.

Taking a rest? Was she just going to lie there? Present herself to him? No. She wasn’t asking. And Jake Straightarrow was no rapist. Even if he couldn’t control himself these days.

“Sleep while you can, Straightarrow. The ship will reach the wormhole relay in four earth days. We can’t afford to lose any sleep.”

Orders? Like a new recruit would follow after being drafted. Was she asking him to crawl into bed with her? He turned to the window and watched the stars scroll by.

So they headed somewhere. “Where are we going?”

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

Not after he waited forever to speak to someone. He pivoted and faced her tight leather-cloaked shoulders. “No. Tell me now.”

Pain knifed his bladder.

He shifted his footing, hoping the change of position would ease up on his latest problem.

She sighed, shoving off the bed, swinging one boot to the floor, and met his gaze with a look of disappointment. “We’re heading to Gameddaron. We’ve got to take out Voldon’s neural network. I can’t do it. They can detect me. That’s why we recruited you. You can fly in under their radar.”

She seemed tired, drained. Maybe she just said anything to get some sleep. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” And did truth really matter now?

She rubbed her shoulder and wagged her head. “You’re the intuitive one. I assumed you’d feel it.” She twisted back into her sleeping position. “Get some sleep, Straightarrow.”

How could anyone sleep with a boner? Was there a shower in this cell? Not to mention a guy could piss in the shower.

His gut snarled again.

How about bread and water? “I’m hungry.”

She didn’t move. “It’s on the way.”

Well good to see she decided to take care of her sex slave. “Where’s the latrine in this joint?”

She shoved up, almost dejected in her apparent exhaustion, and climbed from the bed. “Forgive me, Straightarrow. It’s been an accursed day.” She walked to a point near the entrance, pushed what had to be a button, and a door opened across the room.

Better take a whiz before she closed the door. He strode to the entrance to find a small metallic sink protruding from a wall inside the tiniest closet.

Forget dreams of a cold shower. “Where’s the toilet?”

The round of her breast brushed against his arm.

Damn, these pants were growing tighter every second. Cold water would fix the problem. “Does this prisoner get to shower?”

She reached for a button he could actually see. “You’re not a prisoner, Straightarrow. You’re one of the most honored members of this crew now.” She rolled her gaze to his where her eyes were inches from his chin. “Earthlings have more status than the average mercenary.”

Really? “Then, I’d like this ship to return me to earth.”

She pointed toward another basin anchored to the wall. “There’s the toilet. Press the button to eject whatever you void.” She pointed at another button. “Here’s your shower.”

“Nice game. Just screw me, tell me I’m God, and ignore me.”

She raked her long fingers through her thick hair. “I realize my needs aren’t as demanding as yours right now. But I’m really tired.” The heat of her body pulled away.

With one step, she disappeared back into the room.

Talk about the runaround. He relieved his bladder of which did nothing for his current involuntarily invigorated state, crammed his hard-on back inside his pants, and found a cart at the chamber’s open door.

Red Kindrist took the handle from a white-robed blond male and rolled the squeaking wheels toward the table.

“Please sit, Straightarrow.”

How courteous. Sitting was rough, but he descended.

His wicked pants twisted his sensitive peon.

Talk about the perfect setup for her. She fucks the man of her choice, tucks him into an inescapable spaceship, and gets a permanent over-sexed consort for her roommate. Why do I suddenly want to be the girl? Oh, that’s right. She’s in charge.

SKY: That was one heck of an excerpt! It was great having you here, Skhye. Total blast. Thanks again for visiting!

SKHYE: You’re very welcome. Thanks for having me over!

Can't wait to read Feral Fascinations? Click here to purchase now!

Are you totally interested or what? Learn more about Skhye at her Website and Blog.

Skhye's books are easy to find. Click a link to hook up instantly. ~ Kindle ~ Nook ~ Amazon Paperbacks.

Without doubt, Skhye loves contests and prizes as much as me. Head over to her Yahoo Group to learn more!

Hope you enjoyed learning more about Feral Fascinations. Don't forget, for a chance to win an Ecopy of Skhye Moncrief's Swordsong be sure to leave a comment by Monday morn, 8 AM EST. Thanks again for popping in. Had fun!


Eleanor Sullo's, Moonrakers. We have a winner!

Another spectacular week! I'd like to once more thank Eleneor Sullo for stopping in this past week. Moonrakers sounds wonderful. It's that super-fun time again. The contest winner is......Robin. Congratulations! Please contact me at Skypurington@live.com to collect your prize.

Have a super weekend everyone.


Monday, August 23, 2010

Hot UK Heroes! Eleanor Sullo's, Moonrakers. Comment for a chance to win!

Welcome to my Sizzlin’ Hot Heroes of Scotland, Ireland, England & Wales summer blog event. Though the summer is winding down, I still have some top notch romance writers to share with you. This week it’s my pleasure to welcome Eleanor Sullo. She’ll be dishing out about her latest tale, Moonrakers. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win an Ecopy of Moonrakers and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press main store.


Their romance seems as doomed as the clashing forces of Victorian England itself—science versus spirit, propriety against compassion, appearance over truth. But there’s a plaintive cry for understanding under the surface of the cool, capable investigator that rends Olivia deBaine’s soft heart and draws her to him like a scone draws Devonshire cream. Nor has Harrison Pell ever met a woman like the lady of the Manor, full of spirit and life, warmth and healing.

Just when their future seems assured, Harrison learns what could turn him away forever. On the rocky cliffs of Devon, the two struggle, grasping for the shattered glass of a moonraking mirror. Will its broken surface reflect a relationship that has grown strong enough to hold their differences, or merely shards that kill?

SKY: Welcome, Eleanor, thanks for joining me this week!

ELEANOR: Thanks to you, Sky, for such a great idea—assmebling those giants of historical romance who light our fires. I think we all have some favorite heroes from the past, men who are of their day and time, but who reflect universal qualities that grab us—strength, charisma, self-confidence, even cockiness, and, for me, a kind of simmering, brooding, sex appeal. Like the hero of Moonrakers, Harrison Pell.

SKY: Our heroes are indeed such an important part of our story. Moonrakers’ hero, Harrison Pell already sound delicious. Tell me, what inspired you to create his character? Did he simply form as you wrote or had he been in your mind for some time?

ELEANOR: As I re-created the legend of Chambercombe, a real, live haunted 900-year-old house in Devon, England, I needed an investigator who could arrive on the scene, a bit pompous and overeducated, a psychic researcher with Scotland Yard credentials. I expected him to seem dry and dull at first, but to my surprise as Harrison took his place on the pages he was full of unspent emotion, as vulnerable as a boy, and passionate as a Highland warrior.

SKY: Wow! Sounds like my kind of guy. Give me a little insight into Harrison’s personality. Is he cunning, aggressive, arrogant, kind, humorous─share all!

ELEANOR: As a man of the Victorian age, he’s arrogant, unable to understand or appreciate a feisty, self-confident woman like Olivia deBaine, and likely to get himself into several messes before he accepts his feelings and attachment to the heroine. He’s a tall, craggy-faced, moody Sherlocke Holmes type, but with piercing blue eyes, longish hair over his neck, and an impulsiveness that helps to set him free from his strait-laced ways. His straight slash of a mouth hides his incumbent humor, and the spark of his intelligence keeps him one step ahead—almost—of everyone.

“When your father returns I’ll interview him. Then, tomorrow perhaps, you can show me the property, introduce me to others who—”

A stab of anxiety cut through her chest and she straightened, trying not to stare at his teeth, so white they reminded her of sun-bleached shells. “We must begin at once. “ …

“—but, you see, there is a system, a procedure, by which an investigation proceeds. I am schooled not only within the Society for Psychical Research, but in the methods of Scotland Yard—the science of detection. My work is first to seek evidence of a more human perpetrator.”

The deep timbre of his voice, the sharp angles of his face modeling a perfect mask of control and the commanding way he rubbed his long, fine hands together at the fire seduced her. She felt her resolve weakening. But then she thought of the cries that haunted her nights and of her father lying in a pool of his own blood… She shivered, she would trust no one. Nor wait until the cruel spirit struck again.

Without intending to she stamped her foot, turned and clicked her way down the hall to the stairs.

“I understand the reputation of the Society to be flawless, and your methods without equal,” she called back at him as she went. “Which is why I contacted you, above all the others who work with Dr. Sidgwick. They say you’re the most uncanny of investigators, sure to find a spirit if there is one.”

“And so I shall if one exists, Miss deBaine, in due time.” He hovered just behind her, his breath on her neck sending scintillas of sensation to her fingertips.
She straightened and pointed up the stairs, determination rising like heat in her throat. “This is due time, Doctor Pell! Due time enough. Your room is to the left of the stairway. Please settle yourself. And understand my urgency, sir. My father’s life is at risk! I trust you will begin your work at once.”

“Do you? Trust me, that is?”

She laughed a bitter laugh. “Perhaps that trust must be earned, sir. Meanwhile, I believe that while you are at Chambercombe you are in our employ.”

His gasp told her no other woman had ever talked as bluntly to this paragon of masculine bravado and good looks. Olivia sniffed and turned away before she might cave in to his lifted chin and furrowed brow. Her knees shook.

Why did he affect her so?

“As your employer,” she snapped over her shoulder, as she retreated back down the hall, “it is reasonable that I supervise your efforts. “We’ve wasted enough time. She heard him blustering behind her all the way to the entry, but she dared not pause for his retort.

SKY: Excellent excerpt! Turning up the temperature─Why are readers going to fall in love with your hero-lust for him?

ELEANOR: Harrison’s brilliance, his bravery, his fiery insistence on high principles, and his cool, composed good are charming qualities, but his burning devotion to the woman he loves beats all. He’ll go to the ends of the earth for her and nearly does. She can count on him, trust his arms around her to keep her from harm, and find herself catching fire from the spontaneous yet innocent passion engendered in his touch. What woman wouldn’t be moved by this hero for all times?

“Harrison, what in God’s name--?”

From top to bottom the man was a nightmare image of the fine gentleman who’d come to tea a few days ago.

His hair stuck out in every direction, dirt smeared his face, sand stuck to his ears. His fine cape was torn almost to shreds and his britches were ripped and wet and stinking of marsh. He wore no boots at all, and she didn’t dare ask where they had gone. Worst of all was the gaunt look on his sallow face. Absent were the ruddy cheeks she’d noticed earlier, absent the matter-of-fact, competent manager of this afternoon whom not even a poltergeist could rattle.

He sank into the bench beside the grandfather clock as she watched, and slid his long legs out in front of him, struggling to catch his breath.

Bending close she spied the trickle of blood from his lip and lurched toward him to somehow make it better. Her hands fluttered in the air for assistance. Then she grasped the hem of her skirt, snatched up a corner of her petticoat and pressed it to his mouth. “You’re hurt! Oh, Harrison, I’m sorry.”

He winced as she wiped away the blood and dabbed at his swollen lip. “I must get some water and soap, and some calendula compresses. Do wait here, and then tell me, you must tell me, what happened. Oh, my God, Harrison, was it a poltergeist again, or a, a ghost?”

He clenched her hands in his own strong ones, all the while shaking his head.

“No, no, Olivia. I wish it were, for your sake. Tonight I followed your father and his business friends to the sea. What I learned, what I saw--will surely upset you even more!” He pulled himself up and gripped her shoulders.

“Tell me, tell me, please.”

She clutched the lapels of his coat, her hands besmeared with the grime there, and suddenly she wanted to breathe him in, all the hurt places, the moist wool of his coat, the scent of spice and outdoors. She inhaled deeply and realized with a start that with her skirt and petticoat still raised up in front, she was feeling clearly the imprint of his thrusting manly form against her own! He himself shuddered and breathed deeply.

“Harrison? I--.”

Before she could pose another question they grasped at each other and he pulled her mouth against his. She was too stunned to resist, then too thrilled to care. She kissed him as gently as she could, ran her palms over his back, around his neck, desperate to heal each part of him. An explosion of caring burst through her.

“Olivia,” he murmured. Sweetly they had kissed, at first, but now a rush of passion joined their mouths, their breath! She had only imagined such a kiss in dreams. Their tongues met, tentatively at first, then wildly, probing with abandon. She fell against him, on fire where they touched. He groaned without his lips leaving hers.

Once she broke free to cry, “You’ll hurt yourself, beware--” His answering voice was husky, and wordless. Somehow Olivia understood that for them both the time to “beware” was over.

The thin light from the rising moon seemed to swell and burst into flower on their embrace. To her it seemed a sign. Now was the time of risk and retribution, thirst quenched and hunger abated. Truly, Harrison Pell wanted to hold her as much as she wanted it herself!

Yes, yes, she thought, letting herself be crushed against him, seeking more, drinking him in, the passion of that one, wild kiss purified by the very taste of his blood!

“Olivia, sweet, adorable Olivia,” he murmured into her ear.

Her knees gave way as his hands slid under the lifted hem of her frock, reached around to her hips and pulled her closer. His fingers were fevered against her thin shift. Her head swam.

“Yes,” she said, not knowing what she was agreeing to and caring less. “Yes, Harrison. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes--!”

Neither of them heard the great door open, nor the pounding of boots coming hard at them until it was far, far too late.

SKY: Another suburb excerpt! Thanks so much for visiting and sharing!

ELEANOR: I’m so glad to do so. It was a joy to revisit Moonrakers and my dark and evolving hero, and feel again the hunger and hidden warmth in him. No wonder friends often tell me he’s their favorite hero from my books. I kind of like him, too.

Thanks so much for your invitation. I hope your guests will visit my website for more glances into my writing world. And cheers to you in yours!


Author Eleanor Sullo presents a fascinating historical romance with a touch of the paranormal in MOONRAKERS. Sullo's flair for creating outstanding characterizations dazzles, from the strong heroine to the slimy anti-hero. The clash of contrasts between Olivia's intuitiveness and Harrison's scientific fastidiousness gives the novel strong historical presence. With its strong gothic overtones, hidden treasure and hidden passageways, MOONRAKERS will appeal to wide audience. Further, its fast paced plot and intriguing plot twists will keep the reader guessing. Indeed, Sullo delivers romance with sweeping intensity and spell binding passion. Highly recommended.

Cindy Penn editor@wordweaving.com
Senior Editor, Wordweaving.com
Amazon top 50 reviewer
Midwest Book Reviews


Moonrakers--Reviewed by Vivian Crystal

Looking for a romantic thriller that's written in a classic style, without a lot of fake, special effects or trivialized plot? Here it is!

Ghosts, pirates, poltergeists, a cruel and shifty father, a mute mother whose eyes alternately register peace or horrid fear, a repulsive suitor, poor but loyal servants, and a logical private investigator whose objectivity is flouted by the electric reaction his body, mind and heart experience on first meeting Olivia deBaine - these and more daring characters fill the mysterious pages of this truly Gothic mystery.

The task? Find the ghost who haunts this manor built in the time of William the Conqueror. Find it before more residents die or are the recipients of daunting injuries. Put an end to the shrieking, crying voices that terrorize the staunchest dreamers. For how long can the protective amulet work in the face of whatever randomly attacks during the day or night?

Yes, the reader will fly through the pages of this long but compelling novel. This reader couldn't help remembering, while absorbing the MOONRAKERS, the various flavors of Daphne DuMaurier's "Rebecca," the Bronte sisters' dark and passionate novels, the early Victoria Holt works, and Penmarric's "Cashelmara". Sullo writes with the flair of these literary giants yet overlays each turn with her own unique skill.

The fantastic strength of this novel lies in the author’s ability to describe the terrors within and around each character and the manor's intriguing structure and surrounding cliffs, beaches, caves and more. Most impressive are the characters of the psychic investigator, who is like a schoolboy experiencing his first "crush," and the cantankerous father who at certain times seems to deserve the wild and powerful phantom's attacks.

The female protagonist is appealing, a feisty, capable woman, unafraid to counter her father's nasty orders and threats as well as the initially sanctimonious investigation of the visiting detective. However, her intuitive physical and emotional, feminine reactions to this Scotland Yard investigator delightfully emerge in a scintillating manner.

Enjoy this historical mystery in all its audacity, sympathy, passion, and horror. It's a treat for sure!

--Viviane Crystal


If you enjoy reading books that skillfully combine suspense, romance, laughter, passion and paranormal elements, THE MOONRAKERS is the book for you! Eleanor Sullo has crafted memorable characters, indeed, she has shown that everyday men and women have the strength to act morally and responsibly, and have the inner strength to confront, and best, evil. THE MOONRAKERS is a touching love story that has this reader craving more books from Ms. Sullo.

--Julie Shininger, Escape to Romance

Can’t wait to read Moonrakers? Purchase HERE.

Vist Eleanor at her Website.

Don’t forget, for a chance to win an Ecopy of Moonrakers and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press, be sure to leave a comment by Friday, August 27th 12 PM EST!

Thanks for stopping in!


Saturday, August 21, 2010

Another FABULOUS jewelry Giveaway!

I just received word. My dear friend, Dawn Marie- CEO of Designs by Dawn Marie- is hosting a Giveaway this weekend! See those gorgeous custom designed earrings above, made with Golden Swarovski Pearls and glass bead accents? That's the grand prize!

The Giveaway runs, from right now through Monday Morning at 11:00 am Central time. To learn the super easy way you can be entered to win, head over to Dawn Marie's BLOG now.

Have a fabulous weekend all!


Sharon Donovan's, The Claddagh Ring. We have a winner!

Again, thank you to everyone who stopped in to wish Sharon Donovan well and rave about her latest release, The Claddagh Ring. She SO deserves all the love and praise given. This weeks winner is...drum roll please...Jill James. Congratulations! Please contact me at Skypurington@live.com to collect your prize.

Be sure to pop back in Monday morning as I welcome romance author Eleanor Sullo to my Sizzlin' Hot Heroes of Scotland, Ireland, England & Wales summer blog event.

Best Regards,

Friday, August 20, 2010

Guest Blogging at Coffee Time Romance. Comment for a chance to win!

Morning all!

Thank you to everyone who stopped in this week and left such lovely comments for Sharon Donovan. She is a wonderful person and talented writer. The Claddagh Ring sounds spectacular. I have extended the contest until 12 AM EST tonight for anyone who would still like to comment.

Have a few minutes to spare? I’m guest blogging at Coffee Time Romance today. Come join the fun! It’s all about celebrating the publication of my entire series─The King’s Druidess all the way through Sylvan Mist. As always, there’s a contest involved. Swing over to CTR’s BLOG to learn more.

Look forward to seeing you!


Monday, August 16, 2010

Sizzlin' UK Heroes! Sharon Donovan shares The Claddagh Ring. Comment for a chance to win!

Welcome to my Sizzlin’ Hot Heroes of Scotland, Ireland, England & Wales summer blog event. This week it’s my extreme pleasure to feature super talented author, Sharon Donavon. Regrettably, Sharon is in the hospital and will not be able to join us. While I’ll be hosting this week, author Hywela Lyn (Sharon’s close friend) will step in if you have any questions about Sharon’s work. As always, there is a contest. For a chance to win an Ecopy of The Claddagh Ring and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press main store, be sure to leave a comment.

To Sharon- My thoughts and prayers are with you. I wish you a speedy recovery my friend.

To my readers, fellow bloggers and friends- sit back and enjoy this pre-recorded interview. Sharon is a true talent and The Claddagh Ring is a tale well worth learning more about. Note: The pictures you see were taken by Sharon when she visited the beautiful Emerald Isle.

The Claddagh Ring

Struggling with her faith after her mother’s death, Meghan O’Malley finds comfort in wearing her Claddagh Ring, believed to be blessed by St. Patrick. And when Meghan meets Rork, she finds love, friendship, and loyalty. But before everything comes full circle under God’s plan, Meghan must face the biggest challenge of her life.

Rork McGuire is ruggedly handsome, sings Celtic music straight from his soul, and has a dark secret. When he sees Meghan O’Malley, he falls hopelessly in love with her and wants nothing more than to give her his heart. Will the secret he harbors bring them together—or pull them apart?

SKY: Welcome Sharon, thanks for joining me this week!

SHARON: It’s a pleasure to be here, Sky! What a fun party for a summer blog!

SKY: Tell me, what inspired you to create your hero’s character? Did he simply form as you wrote or had he been in your mind for some time?

SHARON: Sharon smiles wistfully as memories flutter through her heart. I was inspired to create the character of Rork while visiting the Emerald Isle a few years ago. With all its castles and rolling green hills, Ireland is truly a mystical and enchanting land. I can still hear the strumming of the harp floating across the countryside, its lyrical tone pulling at my heartstrings. Anyone who knows me is well aware of my passion for legend and lore. And when I learned the legend behind the claddagh, I knew I had to write a love story based on its magic.

The claddagh has a rich history dating back several centuries. It is said to bring the wearer love, friendship and loyalty forevermore.

But in order for the Claddagh to cast its mystical spell, the Claddagh must be worn a certain way. The design consists of two hands holding a heart with a crown on top of the heart. The hands represent friendship, the heart is for love, and the crown is for loyalty. If the ring is worn on the right hand with the heart facing outward, the wearer is looking for love. If worn on the left hand with the heart facing outward, the wearer has found love. But when worn on the left hand with the heart facing inward, the wearer has found its soulmate for life and will be forever blessed.

Being Irish and awed by the legend, I was inspired to write The Claddagh Ring. And while touring the Atlantic Breakers and the Cliffs of Moher, part of my book takes place in County Clare. The Breakers pound the west coast of the county, sculpting the grey limestone into a myriad of shapes, the most notorious, the Cliffs of Moher. A rich plethora of birdlife as puffins and shags crest on the cliffs, adding to the savage grandeur. Beneath the rocks, the waves have spread a thin dusting of golden sand, said to be sprinkled by angel wings. Standing on these cliffs with the wind on my back and the sun on my face, I was inspired to write The Claddagh Ring. And like a mythical Greek God, the image of Rork appeared, taking shape in a very masculine way. Wink!

SKY: Like you, I’m enthralled with The Claddagh Ring (wear one) and the history behind it. I can already hear the passion you put into this story when you describe the ring and Emerald Isle. Give me a little insight into your hero’s personality. Is he cunning, aggressive, arrogant, kind, humorous─share all!

SHARON: LOL All of the above, actually. Rork has a wicked sense of humor. His boyish charm and off the wall remarks will captivate you. Whatever is on his mind rolls off his tongue in spades. But beneath all this charm is masked a dark secret, one that he is bound and determined to keep. He wears his hopelessly romantic heart on his sleeve, daring Meghan to deny his advances. But as the story unfolds, his dark secret threatens, and he is forced to open up to the woman who has won his heart. A reviewer referred to Rork’s personality as “enigmatic” while another said she was drawn in by his “mysterious nature”.

Here’s an excerpt of the first time Meghan and Rork met…

As Meghan mixed drinks from behind the bar of The Wild Irish Rose, the fiddle and violin captured the true essence of Ireland. The tantalizing aroma of Irish stew, corn beef and cabbage and soda bread wafted through the room.

Suddenly, all activity came to a halt as the eerie wail of bagpipes keened through the bar. The lead singer took center stage with his rendition of Danny Boy, the haunting lyrics crawling into Meghan's skin. Mesmerized by his hypnotic blue eyes, she stopped what she was doing and met his penetrating gaze. With the exception of her mother,she’d never heard anyone pluck the strings of the harp with such finesse. The Claddagh Ring on her right hand felt hot, the heart pressing into her skin. By the time the song ended, Meghan’s green eyes were misty with tears.

“Well now, darlin’,” he touched her cheek. “If I knew Danny Boy would make you cry, I'd a sung When Irish Eyes are Smiling."

Meghan Shannon O’Malley lost herself in pools of midnight blue.

“I’m Rork,” the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He took her right hand and kissed the heart on her ring. "Single and looking, are ya?


“The Claddagh Ring, darlin’,” he kissed it again. “On your right hand with the heart facing outward, means you're single and looking for romance."

“Ah…I have no idea what you’re talking about; it’s just a ring, a gift from my mother.”

“Ah, come on now, darlin’ girl,” he got a little closer, staring into her eyes. “Ya
can’t fool an Irishman. My mother bought one for each of my sisters. I’ll have ya know they're all married."

Meghan felt lightheaded. “My mother gave me this ring the night before she died. It's a family heirloom, said to be blessed by St. Patrick himself. Mama promised me by wearing the Claddagh, everything in my life would come full circle. So before you go thinking I'm wearing it to find a husband, think again."

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” his blue eyes seared into hers like lasers.

“What do ya say, Meghan, darlin’ girl of my heart."

SKY: He sounds wonderful-love that lilt! Turning up the temperature─Why are readers going to fall in love with your hero-lust for him?

SHARON: Rork has the face of a fallen angel. Dark, wavy hair, high cheekbones, full, sensual lips and midnight blue eyes that could melt an iceberg. But above all, he’s a hopeless romantic that wears his heart on his sleeve. He strums the strings of the harp with his long, slender fingers, drawing emotion with every cord. His lyrical voice steals hearts. Rork has a hauntingly bewitching way of seeing into the future with his hypnotic blue eyes, convinced the legend behind the claddagh is no blarney.

And as My Wild Irish Rose played, Meghan and Rork danced, their bodies gliding across the dance floor in perfect rhythm. Rork sang in her ear, the lilt in his voice sending chills through her entire body. “And my one wish has been…that some day I may win…the heart of my wild Irish Rose…”

As Rork’s arms tightened around her, the lyrics of the song seemed to crawl deeper and deeper inside her skin. Gazing into his hypnotic blue eyes, she thought perhaps St. Patrick had indeed bestowed his blessing into the Claddagh. Could Rork be her purpose? Finding love and friendship with a man who could sing like an angel?

On a romantic lilt, Rork ended the dance with a simple promenade around the floor, giving the couple the regal look of a king and queen. Staring into midnight blue eyes, Meghan’s heart danced a wild rhythm. When she finally came back down to earth, she was giddy with delight. And when they kissed, it was the kind of kiss dreams were made of. Meghan Shannon O’Malley had met her destiny.

SKY: Oh, how romantic and beautifully written! Thanks so much for visiting and sharing!

SHARON: My pleasure, Sky. Thanks for having me as your featured guest!

Watch a book trailer for The Claddagh Ring

The Claddagh Ring
2009 CAPA Nominee The Romance Studio
5 Heart Review
Reviewer: Jacquelyn Ward

This fast paced, fun book is full of inspiration and devotion. If you are looking for a book that is fun to read and yet will have your heart racing, try this book. It tugged at my heart and yet left me with a smile on my face and a good feeling about life. The characters are interesting people full of life and love. Their personalities jump at you from the pages. Rork’s mysteriousness will draw you in and keep you on your toes, while Meghan’s recent loss will garner your sympathy. This is one of those feel good books that you just can’t help but feel the need to read it in one sitting. I couldn’t put this book down. For me, this book is a keeper that I know I will return to when I need to put a smile on my face.

Rating: 5 Books
Reviewer: Snapdragon

A melancholy aura washes through the start of Donovan’s ""The Claddagh Ring." Evocative from the first line, true romantics will find their own heart touched, again and again. It's timely issue; timeless emotion. Bereft Meghan O'Malley decided, not without sorrow, to the past in the past. She takes up her pragmatic post behind the bar with every intention of being the mischievous barmaid, and sets up banter with her guests. This is- right up till the new band's lead singer, Rork, takes up a rendition of 'Danny Boy.' Rork has hypotic blue eyes...and reads the meaning of the Claddagh ring she wears, more accurately than she does herself. donovan fits an awful lot in a small package! Her characters feel. Her dialogue is plausible. The backdrop pull more emotion from the tale; from the plaintive strains of Danny Boy and the strumming harp to the hint of lavender, every sense is fed. With its heartfelt tone and endearing quality, this is an unabashed tear-jerking, heartwarming romance that wallows in emotion. I just love it.

WRDF Review of The Claddagh Ring By Sharon Donovan

O'Malley is still reeling from her the death of her beloved mother, when the last gift her gave her, leads her to someone who might be her true love. Rork McGuire is the lead singer in the band that performs at Meghan's Cafe, The Wild Irish Rose, during a St. Patrick's Day celebration. During a short break in the music, Rork and Meghan meet and are instantly drawn to each other. Rork notices the Claddagh Ring on Megan's finger. He recites the same passage that Meghan's mother recited when she gave Meghan the ring, a beautiful wish that the wearer will find love and friendship in the arms of her destiny.

As the couple falls head over heels for each other, Meghan discovers Rork has a huge secret. With the help of the world wide prayer chain and her faith in God, Meghn rushes to Ireland to help Rork. Will she get there in time?

This story reflects the beauty in God's Grace and the power of love and prayer to overcome insurmountable odds. Truly a great read.

Learn more about Sharon. Visit her Website and Blog

Contact Sharon at Sharonad@comcast.net

Can’t wait to read this story? Purchase The Claddagh Ring HERE.

Don’t forget, for a chance to win an Ecopy of The Claddagh Ring and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press, leave a comment by Friday, August 20th, 12 PM EST.

Thanks for popping in!


Kelley Heckart's, Cat's Curse. We have a winner!

Good morning. Hope everyone enjoyed a lovely weekend. I spent mine canoeing the Saco River. Though rather shallow this year due to the drought, it was still beautiful and an absolute blast!

I'd like to once more thank Kelley Heckart for visiting last week and sharing Cat's Curse with us. It sounds like a fabulous read. I won't keep you waiting any longer. Last week's contest winner is...Linda! Congratulations! Please contact me at Skypurington@live.com to collect your prize.

Best Regards,

Friday, August 13, 2010

Contest Winner Announcement- Monday Morning

Good morning! You still have a few more hours (until 12 PM EST) to comment for a chance to win Kelley Heckart's, Cat's Curse. As I'll be away from my computer the remainder of the weekend, the contest winner will be announced Monday morning. Then, stay tuned as I welcome romance author Sharon Donovan to my Sizzlin' Hot Heroes of Scotland, Ireland, England & Wales summer blog event.

Thanks so much and have a fabulous weekend everyone!


Monday, August 9, 2010

Kelley Heckart shares Cat's Curse. Comment for a chance to win big!

Welcome to my Sizzlin’ Hot Heroes of Scotland, Ireland, England & Wales summer blog event. This week it’s my pleasure to have talented author Kelley Heckart visiting. She’ll be dishing out about the hero from her latest story, Cat’s Curse, Book One: Dark Goddess Trilogy. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win a free Ecopy of Cat’s Curse and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press main store!

Cat's Curse, Book One: Dark Goddess Trilogy

Enter Dark Age Scotland—a mysterious, dangerous & exciting place…

Cardea is cursed to live an eternity as a blood drinker. Aedan mac Gabrain, prince of Dal Riata, trusts no one after suffering a curse that keeps him from touching any females. Can two tortured souls find love while battling a dark goddess determined to destroy them?

SKY: Welcome, thanks for joining me this week!

KELLEY: Hi Sky, thanks for including me in your summer blog event featuring Celtic heroes. I like being surrounded by hot, Celtic men.

SKY: I couldn't agree more! Tell me, what inspired you to create your hero’s character? Did he simply form as you wrote or had he been in your mind for some time?

KELLEY: I was researching the Picts when I came across this sixth century Irish king named Aedan mac Gabrain. He caught my interest because he was known as the most feared warlord of his time and he had a shadowy past. I love shadowy pasts because then I can use my imagination to fill in the blanks. He was a contemporary of St. Columba. In the Welsh poems he is called 'Aedan the Treacherous' and he may have fathered a king of the Picts, but he also fought against the Picts. This guy fascinated me and I wondered what kind of woman would capture his heart.

SKY: Give me a little insight into your hero’s personality. Is he cunning, aggressive, arrogant, kind, humorous─share all!

KELLEY: Aedan was a bit of a challenge because I had to convince readers that a fearsome warlord could be capable of love. While he does show a tender side to his woman, he has a tough, cunning exterior—he would have to be tough and cunning to be a successful king in that time period. He is also a flawed character. Aedan can be arrogant and has a bit of a jealous streak. For all his 'flaws' he is a loveable, hunky Celt. The heroine first discovers Aedan's kindness when she sees how caring he is toward his two hounds.

Excerpt from Cat's Curse:

The man started at her sudden words, turning toward her with the sword blade stopping just before the blade cut into Cardea's neck, the coldness of the iron striking a shudder in her. That was the second time in one night she almost lost her head to his sword blade.

“Why are ye following me?” Irritation filled his voice.

“You look like you need some help starting that fire.”

“I do not need yer help.” He stared at her. His brows knitted together, his eyes scrutinizing her.

“A good Christian lass would not be out here all alone in the forest at night,” he remarked with a sneer.

Cardea’s mocking laughter filled the air.

“Do I amuse ye?” He peered at her, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

She found her courage again. “You presume much of me, but what about you? I can only imagine what dreadful act you committed to be banished into these dark-winged woods. Though I can assume your misdeeds had nothing to do with fire,” she smirked, crossing her arms and planting her feet firm to the ground.

“Ye lass, are a rude minion of the Devil himself.” His handsome face rippled with indignation.

“That I may be indeed.” She stared hard at him. His ranting recalled images of the hated Levite priests. A shudder tore through her body and rage fumed inside of her, threatening to rise. She flirted with the temptation to rip his neck open and drink him dry. No one would find his rotting corpse out this far in the forest. The beasts would clean the bones of all flesh. She did not understand why she held back, but her hesitation had something to do with the odd way this man stirred her senses.

He turned around and strode with great arrogance back to his fire pit, striking the blade with the flint rock in angry thrusts. After watching him for a few moments, she approached him.

“Do ye have more insults for me?”

“No. I just cannot stand to watch you make a mockery of fire starting.”

“I can start the fire,” he insisted, turning back to the fire pit.

She watched him struggle again with the stone and blade, trying not to laugh.

“Please, allow me to assist you. It is much too cold tonight to be without a warm fire.” She did not understand why she felt compelled to help him and reached for the dagger she carried on her belt. His cold blade touched her throat before she could blink. Three times now his blade touched her throat and she wondered if it were a portent. “I need my dagger to start your fire.”

He eyed her with suspicion, but withdrew his blade from her throat.

“Ye live alone?” he asked, giving her room to start the fire, but he did not sheath his sword.

“Yes.” She noticed how he bit back a derisive retort.

Cardea held the stone with the sharp edge facing the blade and struck the blade in one swift movement. A spark shot out and the dry peat began to smolder. She struck the blade one more time and a flame rose from the peat, sending out warmth.

“You have to strike the blade in one swift movement with the stone to create a spark. Rubbing it like you were doing only wears the stone down. And it is best to strike the blade with the sharpest edge of the stone.”

“I have a capable pair of eyes. I saw how ye did it.” The bitter tone of his voice revealed his irritation toward her.

“I did not intend to offend you.”

“Good night to ye.” He waited for her to leave the fire before sheathing his sword. Keeping his eyes on her, he stoked the flames.

She stepped toward him and he jumped up, moving away from her. “Do not touch me.” His eyes turned an angry shade of dark blue and an aura of torment surrounded him. “I wish to be left alone.”

Cardea bristled at his surliness, thinking him to be the most arrogant man she'd ever met. “I will take my leave of you now, but you are in my territory so I imagine we will see one another again whether you approve of it or not.” Fuming, she stomped away before he could respond to her announcement. She had even lost the desire to drink his blood. His behavior puzzled her for no man could resist her legendary beauty and charms, but she had noticed a small glimmer of desire in his eyes, leaving her awash in bittersweet feelings.

She wondered why she could not touch him and why he was filled with so much torment and rage. Such a man excited her because of the mystery shrouding his spirit. For once in her long life, she stayed away from a choice bite. Cardea crept through the forest, hunting, but could not take her mind off of the strange, handsome man.

SKY: Great excerpt! Turning up the temperature─Why are readers going to fall in love with your hero-lust for him?

KELLEY: I don't know about readers, but I fell for Aedan because I love tall, strapping Celts with long hair. He is a courageous, fierce warrior king with a tender side for the one he loves. And he wields a long sword. What's sexier than that?

Excerpt from Cat's Curse:

She stared up at him, smiling at his disheveled hair and stubble-lined face. His bare chest rippled with muscles, calling to her. “Kiss me, Aedan.” Raw maleness emanated from him. His unique, earthy male scent excited her, driving her mad with want. She could think of nothing else. He leaned over her and kissed her, brushing her lips with light strokes. She pulled his head down with her good arm, showering him with eager kisses, arching her hips against his lower body.

He pulled away. “I do not want to hurt ye.”

His tender gaze filled her with warmth. “You will not hurt me. My shoulder is injured, but the rest of my body yearns for you.”

The blanket fell away from her chest, baring her naked breasts. She made no move to cover them up.

His eyes brightened with adoration and desire. He cupped her breasts in his large hands, laving each nipple to steep peaks.

Cardea moaned, gripping his long hair with her fist, wanting him more than ever.

He eased her trews off gently and tore off his own trews, his eyes bright with excitement.

Aedan's hands explored her body, eager but tentative as a new lover would. “Yer skin is so soft. I think I may have said this to ye before, but this time I am not under a spell. Ye are the bonniest lass I have ever laid eyes upon.” Deep affection filled his eyes.

He said those same words the night I enchanted him. Her heart swelled with joy.

Careful not to touch her wounded shoulder, Aedan mounted her, laving her with kisses and caresses, his touch tender, searching. His manhood brushed against her sex, hard and eager for her. Pleasurable tingles coursed through her lower body and wetness gathered between her thighs, parting in eagerness for him.

SKY: Another great excerpt! Thanks so much for visiting and sharing!

KELLEY: Thanks, Sky. It's been fun.

Four books! This is true dark ages stuff – the aftermath of Rome’s occupation of Britain, and the growing influence of Christianity vs. the old pagan ways and gods. I love epic historical/high fantasy. Fae, Celt, vampire, curses – all rolled into one book. You truly are transported to a magical time and place…it’s a wonderful escape book for anyone wanting to get away from it all and I would definitely recommend it. Read full review HERE.

~Reviewed by Heather from The Long and the Short of It

Score: 4.50 / 5 - Reviewer Top Pick! This amazing story is very refreshing in the current romance genre.The storyline had a bunch of twists and turns that kept my attention and intrigued me with anticipation. I so wanted to know the outcome of this unlikely romance. Many interesting characters and love triangles make for a refreshing story that is not as neatly tied up as most romance novels of today, but has managed to make me a fan of the author's style. I am eagerly looking forward to reading the next book (Beltaine's Song), Book Two in the Dark Goddess Trilogy, as I have become addicted to the strength, courage and real human facets of the characters in this saga. Read full review HERE.

~Reviewed by: Lydia Ferrari at Night Owl Romance Reviews

I found myself engrossed with how everything evolved. Cardea is an exceedingly winsome heroine. The reader can see her strength and development. I am excited to read the next book. Read full review HERE.

~Rated 3 ½ Tombstones by CeCe at Bitten By Books

She's a vampire, he's a cursed warrior; can true love keep them together?

3.5 stars! This was a remarkable book to read. It has all the earmarks of an enduring romance: suspense, danger, misunderstandings, true love and great sex. At the same time, it also has the elements of a wonderful fantasy story. The author’s detailed descriptions in the book brings you into the land she’s created, a fascinating escape from the day to day drudgery of our lives. I’m looking forward to the next book of this wonderful trilogy. Read full review HERE.

~Reviewed by Kris Plausky at ecataromance

Kelley Heckart

'Timeless tales of romance, conflict and magic'

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Thanks again for visiting. Don’t forget to leave a comment by Friday, August 13th, 12 PM EST for a chance to win a free Ecopy of Cat’s Curse and a $6 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press.