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.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

More Highlanders Anyone? Taken by a Highland Laird by Sky Purington.

Great news! Another Time Travel Highlander romance is right around the corner! Taken by a Highland Laird (The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning, Book 2) is now available for pre-order. 

A bit about the story…

The last thing Lindsay expects when she visits Milly’s home in New Hampshire is to be thrust back in time to thirteenth century Scotland days before the Battle of Stirling Bridge. Worse yet, captured by the English. Using her wits and ability to wrap men around her little finger, she survives long enough to be rescued by a band of Scotsmen. One of them, a rigid Highland chieftain determined to protect his country, rarely lets her out of his sight. Unlike most, however, he seems immune to her allure.

From the moment Clan MacLomain decides to save Scotland’s history, Laird Conall Hamilton knows he needs to be part of it. What he does not foresee is a beautiful twenty-first century actress crossing his path. More so, that they end up caught in an obligatory kiss that sparks an infamous battle. A kiss, as fate would have it, that takes them on an adventure through time to both the Action at Earnside Skirmish and the Action at Happrew.

Joining first Sir William Wallace then King Robert the Bruce, Conall and Lindsay end up on a journey that will leave neither unscathed. Though determined to keep each other at arm’s length, desire simmers, reeling them ever closer. Inner demons are faced as they navigate a powerful connection they never saw coming. Will it be enough to destroy the enemy and save the fate of a nation? Find out in Taken by a Highland Laird.

Looking for another way to hear about my latest releases? Simply text 'skypurington' (no quotes, one word, all lowercase) to 74121 OR click HERE to sign up to receive New Book Release mobile alerts. I’ll send out personalized texts when new books come out. Readers can easily opt out at any time. Unfortunately, this service is only available to those in the Continental United States and Canada right now but should be available to Australia and the UK soon. 

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Romance Across Time. Sworn to a Highland Laird by Sky Purington.

Today’s the day! The first book in my newest Time Travel Highlander series is available! First I’ll share the series premise, then more about Sworn to a Highland Laird, Book One.

Series Overview

The term a new beginning brings to mind many things. Hope and opportunity. A fresh start. For the MacLomains and the rest of Scotland, the year twelve ninety-six meant anything but. Instead, it marked the beginning of a new and oppressed era fraught with two long wars with England. This particular series revolves around the First War of Scottish Independence that took place from twelve ninety-six to thirteen twenty-eight.

Heroes are often lost to time and folklore, especially if magic was involved. The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning shares those mystical tales. Stories about Scottish lairds that came to the aid of Sir William Wallace and King Robert the Bruce. Brave warriors and their lasses who single handedly changed the face of history…or so the story goes.

About the Book

When Milly is hired by an anonymous client interested in selling his New Hampshire colonial, she’s drawn not only to his sexy brogue over the phone but to the house itself. Unfortunately, when she arrives, she finds the home abandoned and the man who contacted her non-existent. If that isn’t enough, the mystery only deepens when she discovers something in the attic she dreamt about as a child. A Claddagh ring that whisks her back in time to medieval Scotland.

Reborn into a new life, Laird Adlin MacLomain knows things are about to get complicated. Devoted to both William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, he and his clan are determined to fight in the First War of Scottish Independence. However, it will take more than brawn and battle skills to see their country through to freedom. It’s going to take help from the future. Specifically, from a lass named Milly.

When Adlin and Milly connect across time, enemies take notice. England becomes more of a threat, as well as its unknown allies. After all, there’s power to be had in a Scottish Laird and a modern day woman finding each other…remembering one another. The life they once shared. The love that was theirs. More so, the strength and perseverance they were capable of together. Will it be enough to fight all that’s coming their way? Find out in Sworn to a Highland Laird.


 Milly tried not to frown. “His lasses?”

Like there had been so many.

“Aye, did ye not know he was once immortal and rumored to have been with quite a few…”

“I’ve heard,” she interrupted before he could innocently drive her away from Adlin. “He’s quite loved.”

“Aye, quite,” William agreed, grinning as he eyed her. “But for all the rumored lasses ‘tis also said that only one ever truly claimed his heart.”

“Is that right?” she murmured, surprised by how winded she suddenly felt. “And who was that?”

“I think ye well know who she was, lassie,” William said softly as he took her hand and pulled her after him.

“Not sure I do,” she murmured as they stopped almost at the very spot Adlin had dipped her hand in the water the night before.

“Were ye not once called Mildred then?” William asked as he pulled off his shirt. “Were ye not called by the same name in another life?”

“I…uh…oh…what are you doing?” Her eyes widened as he yanked his boots off then did the same with his pants.

“I think ‘tis obvious.” He grinned as he waded into the water naked. Milly knew she should turn, but for shit’s sake, this was William Wallace and what modern day Scots loving girl in her right mind would look away? Unfortunately, after a brief glimpse, it seemed she would as she averted her eyes then did, in fact, turn away.

“What’s obvious is that you just stripped down in front of me,” she called over her shoulder.

“Aye.” He issued a low whistle. “And ‘tis bloody cold!”

“I know.” She sure as hell did. “So back to what you said before…”

“And what was that?” came a low, dark tone she almost didn’t recognize as Adlin until he appeared through the woods with a thunderous look on his face. One solely focused on William.

Milly’s mouth dropped as Adlin yanked off his shirt but didn’t bother with anything else except his boots before he strode into the water with rage in his eyes. “My kin and I treated ye bloody good, lad, yet here ye are strippin’ down in front of my lass! What are ye hoping for being so brazen because ‘tis bloody disrespectful to both Milly and me!”

She was so focused on Adlin’s upper body and how cut he was that she didn’t realize he had a sword and seemed set to kill William. An important man with one hell of an army really nearby. One that would come to his defense in no time. For that matter, based on the whistles then roars, she’d guess they were seconds away.

“Och, nay, ye’ve got this all wrong, Adlin.” William shook his head and ducked beneath the first swing of Adlin’s sword. “I wasnae wooin’ her.”

“Nay?” When Adlin thrust, William leapt to the side. “Yet ye’ve yer cock swingin’ for her to admire, aye then?”

“I wasn’t admiring anything,” she called out. Her voice trailed off as plain old female appreciation took over. She tilted her head and started admiring a whole lot as Adlin’s tartan started to slip.

“Oh, look at that,” she whispered, her eyes wide on his tight ass as he thrust his blade at William so quickly that Wallace stumbled back into the water. But not before someone tossed him a sword, and he blocked Adlin’s blade as it came down hard.

It was that, the harsh sound of metal clanging against metal, that finally snapped her out of her reverie and she screeched, “Stop, you’ve got it all wrong, Adlin!”

That didn’t slow him in the least. He was roaring mad and going at William with fury.

“Oh no, oh no, no,” she kept muttering as she raced into the water after them. By that time they were going at each other viciously as William mostly defended and tried to explain that Milly wanted Adlin and no one else. Though she might argue that to some degree it did not stop her from splashing downstream after them.

“Adlin, stop!” she cried, but with all their clinking and clanging she wasn’t sure anyone heard a word.

Adlin was out for blood, and at this point, it seemed William was too. Adlin slashed, William ducked. William thrust, Adlin leapt to the side. They were well matched and moving fast. How could this end well? It would not if she were the judge of it. And it appeared she was seeing how she was the only one willing to stop the battle in a river now lined with warriors.

“No,” she cried again and stumbled forward, determined to see an end to this. Unfortunately, she was so caught up in stopping it that she didn’t realize how foolish she was until she’d leapt in between them and William’s sword came down on her.

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Monday, September 25, 2017

Love Paranormal Romance? Torment by LM Pruitt.

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome LM Pruitt, author of Torment, The Damned Series, Book Four. 

Release Date August 8, 2017 

Genre: PNR 

Book Description

Enemies are so stimulating.--Katherine Hepburn 

If you can look past the part where they're trying to kill you. 

The Damned want my head on a platter. The Winged have similar plans. 

As for Morning Star and the Power... well, only They know. 

One false step... and everything is lost. 


Let’s hear from LM Pruitt…

A Writer’s Mind

We’ve all heard the saying—usually uttered with a bit of despair—that a writer’s mind is like having a dozen or so tabs open at the same time. It is, unfortunately, more than a little true although I think it’s safe to say it’s also a simplistic explanation of what’s happening inside.
For instance, even as I’m writing this, I’m thinking about the list of errands I have to do today, one of which includes the grocery store. The grocery store requires a list (because I know me), so we’re up to two tabs. Seems reasonable, right?
I’m also thinking about the things I have to do as far as household cleaning, which includes laundry, cleaning out the fridge, and cooking dinner. So now we’re up to three tabs.
Wait—I need to take a shower and dry my hair. Four tabs.
I also need to work on a baby gift for a co-worker and a Christmas gift for a friend, both of which require a shopping trip. Five tabs.
I need to revamp a cover and some links and set up promotional days on Amazon. Six tabs.
I’m planning a major release in November, something I’ve never done, which requires extensive file formatting, ISBNs, promotion, the whole nine yards. That’s tabs seven, eight, and nine right there.
I’m also watching television because if I don’t have some sort of background noise, I’ll get distracted. So there’s tab 10, complete with music.
I’m also trying to remember if you refer to a group of ducks as a flock or if that’s for other birds. Tab 11.
And then I’m writing this. Tab 12.
Like I said, we’ve all heard the saying about a writer’s mind. I think I’ve shown it’s fairly true.
Wait—thirteen tabs open: I’m thinking about lunch.


 “You’ll catch cold if you stay out here much longer.” 

I didn’t turn around, continuing to study the skyline. “I’m fine.”

“It’s three in the morning. You should be asleep.” He didn’t sound angry about the fact I wasn’t or the fact I was standing outside in late September in sleep pants and a thin cotton tank. If anything, his scolding sounded as if it was for form and nothing else. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”

 “Yes.” Now I did turn around, studying Barry with the same intensity I’d shown the various buildings of Prague. “Why are you mad at me?”

 “I’m not mad.” He pulled a cigar from the pocket of his sleep pants but didn’t light it, staring at the tip for a moment before sliding it back in his pocket. “I’m tired, Julie. As I said, it’s been a long day. The next few days—weeks, rather—promise to be equally long. We all need to sleep, to keep our strength up for what lies ahead.”

 “You haven’t touched me since we got back.” Since he stood in front of my sister and ripped her heart out and then walked away without a backward glance. “You’ve barely said anything all night long.”

 “As I said, I’m tired.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. “There’s been quite a bit of upheaval in the last thirty-six hours or so. Quite a bit. Forgive me if I’m not my usual charming self. You have more than enough people here to pay you attention if you’re feeling uncared for.”

 “That’s not what I meant.” I turned back to the city view, widening my eyes and blinking rapidly in an effort to keep the tears at bay. I didn’t have a problem with using tears as a weapon when they were called for but I wouldn’t use them with him, ever. “You’re right. It’s late. Go to sleep. I’m fine.”

 “We both know I’m not going to sleep until you do.” I heard the sound of metal scraping over concrete and glanced over my shoulder to find he’d pulled one of the patio chairs free of the table. Sitting down and stretching out his legs, he said, “As long as you’re here, I’m here.”


 “Arguing will only frustrate us both, Julie Elizabeth, and we’ve had enough frustration for the day.” He slid further down in the seat, almost slouching, and crossed his arms. “As long as you’re here, I’m here.”

 “But do you want to be here?” The question tumbled out before I even realized it was in my mind and I bit my tongue, already regretting it. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer that.”

 “Come here.” When I didn’t move, he uncrossed his arms and held out one hand. “Please.”

 Crossing the balcony, I took his hand, curling up in his lap and resting my head on his shoulder. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he cleared his throat. “I don’t know any other way to say it. I can simply say as long as you’re here, I’m here. When you want to leave, we’ll leave.”

“And where would we go?” Joanne’s face in the instant after Barry verbally sucker punched her, Asmodeus’s face the second after I shot him, flashed through my mind and I hunched my shoulders as if the memory carried a physical blow. “There’s no place left. We burned all those bridges today.”

 “The thing about bridges is they can always be rebuilt and when they are, they’re stronger than before they burned.” He brushed my hair away from my face, stroking one hand down my back and pulling me tighter against him. “But since you don’t want to leave, the discussion is moot.”

 “We’re doing the right thing.”

 “The right thing done the wrong way is no longer the right thing.”

 “If there was a way to do this differently, we would have taken it.” We’d tried to take it. We’d tried to meet the others halfway. Nobody—Lilith, Asmodeus, the Power, Morning Star—wanted to bend.

 So we would have to break them.

 “After the raids begin today, there is no turning back. You and your supporters will be branded traitors. There will be bounties on your heads.” He pressed his lips to my hair, breathing deep. “On all our heads. You’ve never lived through a war.”

 It wasn’t a question but I answered anyway. “No, I haven’t.”

 “I’ve been through more than my fair share, even considering my age. When it’s impossible to die from manmade weapons, you tend to fight in wars simply to alleviate the boredom.” He turned, pressing his face in to my hair. “And they’re nothing compared to supernatural wars. So far you’ve only seen the pretty side of Hell. There are things which will be unleashed which should never exist out of nightmares.”

 “On us or by us?”

 “Both.” His hand shook as he stroked my back and I wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort me or himself. “Some things can’t be unseen or unfelt. You’ll carry it with you until the day you die.”

 “Are you trying to scare me?”

 “I’m trying to warn you. Up until now, everything about this war has been theoretical. Until today, no true shots were fired.” He drew back, his face unnaturally somber, even for him. “I know you did what you had to do and I don’t fault you for that decision.”

 “But I officially started the war.” I nodded. “I know. I’ll live with it.”

 “Things will get worse.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “They always do.”

 “And then they get better.” I had to believe that. If I didn’t, then there was a good chance I was wrecking and ruining lives for no reason at all. I pressed my lips to his, lightly, for comfort more than anything else. “Things will be better. We’re going to make them better.”

 We didn’t have any other choice. 

About the Author 

L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she's killed bamboo. Twice.  She is the author of the Winged series, the Plaisir Coupable series, Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A Frankie Post Novel.