Stolen Promises by Lisa Marie Wilkinson (Terra's Review)

Stolen Promise by Lisa Marie Wilkinson is one romance book that will hold its promise of everything we have come to expect from a historical romance novel. I really don't think I've read a book about Gypsies before but I must say that this is a must have read. Absolutely scrumptious!

Jade is not only a Gypsy, but like most of her people she is astoundingly beautiful. Green eyes that draw you into their depths with raven hair that has a halo of blueish to it to make it shine like spun silk. She wears very colorful clothing that only accentuates her lithe frame. She is spirited and head strong which is frowned upon amongst her people and her father believes what she needs is a husband with a strong hand to hold her in place.

Evan is a half breed and doesn't exactly fit in on either side of his families nationalities. Not finding out about his heritage until he is a grown man, he goes in search of a people that very well might not accept him because of who he is.

Dimitri is a very handsome Gypsy male but with a personality that brings out brutal abuse and a jealousy that does not end, it takes him to places he never thought he would have to go to get the one woman who was promised to him as a child to be his bride. He's one of those people you just absolutely have to hate, no ands, ifs or buts.

Our author has given us a action packed, emotional powerhouse that will keep you turning pages as quickly as possible from beginning to end. A story of greed, hate, deception, love, trust and misunderstandings that will show us that making up is hard to do but the benefits are so worth it in the end. I totally adored this book and I do hope you do also.

Mass Market Paperback: 380 pages
Publisher: Medallion Press (March 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1605420697
ISBN-13: 978-1605420691

Congrat's To This Week's Winner

Heather D ~ The Phoenix Charm by Helen Scott Taylor

Please send your snail mail info to terraontop57 at yahoo dot com. Congrats to our winner and I hope you enjoy your prize!

Rion by Susan Kearney Giveaway Winners

1/19/2010 - So sorry for the tardiness on announcing the winners everyone but with the changing of the calendars I forgot to put this on it. It was brought to my attention today and thank you. (If you have already received a copy of this book from another blog contest please let me know so that I may pick another winner so that someone else may enjoy this also.

Update 1/26/2010 - One week has gone by so three new winners have been picked to replace the three that did not send me their info in time. Winners have 7 days to get me their info or someone else will be chosen


*Dina

*Martha Lawson

*Estella

Lynz Pickles

*SiNn

Please send your snail mail info to terraontop57 at yahoo dot com. Congrats to our winners and I hope you enjoy your prizes!

Knight of Pleasure by Margaret Mallory Giveaway Winners

1/19/2019 - So sorry for the tardiness on announcing the winners everyone but with the changing of the calendars I forgot to put this on it. It was brought to my attention today and thank you. (If you have already received a copy of this book from another blog contest please let me know so that I may pick another winner so that someone else may enjoy this also.

Update 1/26/2010 - One week has gone by so two new winners have been picked to replace the two that did not send me their info in time. Winners have 7 days to get me their info or someone else will be chosen

*Patti

*penney

Stacie

*Cyberclipper

*Armenia

Please send your snail mail info to terraontop57 at yahoo dot com. Congrats to our winner and I hope you enjoy your prizes!

Lessons in French by Laura Kinsale (Terra's Review)

Lessons in French by Laura Kinsale is an adorable Regency story that is sure to tickle your fancy. A story of the magic of love being time tested and still able to stand up to the task. A story of the English breed lady and the French scoundrel that will show there are indeed no bounds where true love is concerned.

Lady Callie is not a stunning beauty especially in a plain dress and muck boots that she wears to take care of her cattle. She is however a gem of the highest quality on the inside. She has a tender heart and is quite shy so that when there is a ball she is the wallflower that blends in with the background quite nicely. Having been engaged and jilted three times, she has finally come to the conclusion that at the age of seven and twenty she will become a spinster rather than put up with the fickle temperaments of men.

Trevelyn has finally come into his birthright and is a Duke of little import. Having gone to France, fought in the battle of Waterloo and unsuccessfully tried to get back his ancestral home, Trev has realized that it is time to go back and see his mother before she passes from a life of loneliness and heartache. What he is not prepared for however is the woman he has loved since childhood still being available and emotionally wounded.

Our author has done a wonderful job at not only showing us that true love has no bounds but that what one person might perceive as plain and dull is another person's sparkling gem. This story is adventurous, daring, comical while heart wrenching as brought about by the cruelty of human nature. But, as with most stories written with a hidden message, it is a story of determination, patience and the ability to forgive that brings about an ending much worth waiting for.

Mass Market Paperback: 480 pages
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca (January 26, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1402237014
ISBN-13: 978-1402237010

The Phoenix Charm by Helen Scott Taylor

Welcome back Helen and Thank You for being with us and for the wonderful interview you’ve done with us. We all wish you the best of luck with The Phoenix Charm and hope to see much more of you in the future.

Terra ~ What was your inspiration behind The Phoenix Charm?

Helen ~ The Phoenix Charm is the sequel to The Magic Knot. The hero Michael was a secondary character in The Magic Knot and seemed the best choice for the next book in the series. In The Magic Knot, I took my characters to Ireland, so I wanted to keep the same Celtic-based fairy world but explore a different place. I chose Wales as it has a rich body of Celtic mythology to draw on for story ideas.

Terra ~ Is there a love of the very ancient past that has you writing Celtic romances and if so why?

Helen ~ I love exploring historic houses, castles, and monuments. Luckily for me, I am surrounded by them as I live in England. I enjoy weaving fantasy worlds that combine ancient Celtic mythology with our normal world to give the otherworldly sense of a parallel world running alongside our own.

Terra ~ Which of the creatures you have written about do you think you have had the greatest attachment to and why?

Helen ~ I suppose my vampiric, winged nightstalker Nightshade qualifies as a creature, although he’d be put out to be called a creature. He is a favorite of mine. My favorite character has to be Troy, the immortal father of the heroes from the first two books in the Magic Knot series.

Terra ~ Are The Magic Knot and The Phoenix Charm at all related or can they be read as standalone stories?

Helen ~ The Phoenix Charm is the sequel to The Magic Knot. Both books are set in the same fairy world and the second follows on in time sequence from the first. But the stories are written to work as stand-alones. Readers who have read The Phoenix Charm without reading The Magic Knot tell me they have no problem understanding the story. I think readers will get more out of the series if they do read the books in order though, as the secondary characters are developed through the series with more revealed about them in each book.

Terra ~ What is the possibility that you will continue on with the Magic Knot storylines in future books.

Helen ~ I plan five books in The Magic Knot series. The third book—The Ruby Kiss—is about Nightshade and will be released on Dec 28th 2010. I have a novella in The Mammoth Book of Irish Romance called The Feast of Beauty that is linked to my series. This is due out in a few weeks.

Terra ~ I haven’t had the chance to read The Phoenix Charm but thoroughly enjoyed The Magic Knot. What would you say to me to have me crave this new book with an obsession that I must have it come Hell or high water.

Helen ~ If you liked Michael in The Magic Knot then you’ll be amazed how he rises to the challenge of rescuing his little nephew from the Underworld. When I started writing the story, I never dreamed how much he’d have to sacrifice and how powerful he’d become. The poor guy really deserves his true love.

Terra ~ What’s it like now to have your second book in print? Is it just as exciting and nerve wracking as the anticipation of your first or is it a bit easier since you’ve already done one?

Helen ~ Because I knew the process second time around it wasn’t as nerve-wracking, but I doubt I’ll ever be relaxed about a book release. It is still just as exciting to see my new book on bookstore shelves.

Terra ~ Do you ever wonder how people will perceive your multi sub genre’ novels? The Phoenix Charm looks like it is not only Romance but also could fit into Fantasy, Historical Romance, Suspense and possibly light erotica.

Helen ~ Jennifer Ashley called my story Adventure-fantasy romance, and that is a wonderful description. The fantasy world does have historical elements as the King of the Underworld lives in a castle that sounds medieval, but it isn’t erotica.

Terra ~ I see from your bio that you are located in the UK. I love the history that the UK provides us with and it is such an ancient and quite breath taking set of Isles. What is it like to have so much inspiration right in your own preverbal back yard?

Helen ~ Living surrounded by countryside bursting with Celtic history did help inspire me to create my Magic Knot fantasy world. I have always enjoyed visiting historic houses and sites of interest. I like to take the history and put a magical twist on it.

Terra ~ What are your future plans in the literary world?

Helen ~ The third book in my Magic Knot Fairies series is due out in December. I also have a novella due out in a fantasy anthology in October. I plan to continue writing fantasy for a while, but I shall probably explore other mythologies to create new fantasy worlds. The novella I’m currently writing includes Norse mythology and I’m having fun with that. My favorite part of writing is creating the worlds.



HE'S PURE TEMPTATION.

Cordelia has sworn she'll abstain from looking into Michael's future--particularly when the image in the gilded smoke of her divination mirror shows him half naked. Yet she can't resist watching the sexy rascal slowly running his hand down his ribs, over his abdomen, flicking open the button on his jeans with a little flourish like a magician performing a trick.

SHE'S TRYING TO RESIST.

Respectable wise woman Cordelia restrains her secret water nymph sensuality with the Celtic symbols painted on her skin. But Michael's powerful fairy glamour leaves her breathless, off balance, struggling for control. When Gwyn ap Nudd, the Welsh King of the Underworld, steals away Michael's infant nephew, Cordelia must work with him to save the child. But how can she trust her instincts with Michael tempting her to explore the hidden elemental depths of her nature and insisting that she believe in the power of...The Phoenix Charm.



Contest Time ~ Go over to the link provided here ( http://www.helenscotttaylor.com/quiz/quiz.php?quiz=elements ) and take Helen's quiz then come back and let her know the answer to be entered to win a signed copy of The Phoenix Charm. One winner will be chosen mid week so don't daudle. Oh and don't forget the email addy or it doesn't count.

Congrat's To This Week's Winners

*Cheesygiraffe ~ A Tale of Two Demon Slayers by Angie Fox

*booklover0226 ~ Set of three books by Robin Kaye

Please send your snail mail info to terraontop57 at yahoo dot com. Congrats to our winners and I hope you enjoy your prizes!

A Tale of Two Demon Slayers by Angie Fox

Terra ~ Hi Angie, Welcome to Yankee Romance Reviewers. Why don’t you tell us about yourself and your books?

Angie ~ Well, I write the New York Times bestselling Accidental Demon Slayer series, which are a bunch of offbeat books about a preschool teacher who finds out she’s a demon slayer and then has to go out and save the world (while figuring out her powers along the way).

I also have a new release out called My Zombie Valentine, which is an anthology that also includes Katie MacAlister, Marianne Mancusi and Lisa Cach.

Terra ~ What inspired you to write a zombie romance?

Angie ~ Well, zombies deserve love too, right? Actually, my story is more of a time travel romance than anything.

Gentlemen Prefer Voodoo is about Amiele Fanchon D’Honore Baptiste (Amie for short), who is a lonely New Orleans voodoo mamba. Amie lives in the modern city and is tired of party boys and guys who can’t commit. She needs a gentleman in her life. So she weaves a spell to call the “perfect man for her.” But she should have been more specific because the perfect man for her died in 1811.

Dante Montenegro is a Spanish gentlemen who has been haunting St. Louis Cemetery Number One, waiting for his true love to call him back to life. He’s thrilled when Amie’s spell works and emerges the cemetery, very sexy (if slightly dirty). When her hot zombie shows up at her door, Amie is determined to put him back into the ground. Dante is determined to make her fall for him.

It’s really very sweet - in a zombie sort of way.

Terra ~ A Tale of Two Demon Slayers is your other new release. Can you tell us a little about it and the series?

Angie ~ A Tale of Two Demon Slayers is a light-hearted paranormal romance about a straight-laced preschool teacher who runs smack dab into her fate when she learns she’s a demon slayer. Turns out, that’s just the beginning. Soon her hyperactive terrier starts talking, and her long-lost biker witch Grandma is hurling Smuckers jars filled with magic. And her enemies are using black magic to create an evil version of Lizzie – with all of her powers and none of her inhibitions.
Of course there’s a handsome shapeshifting griffin who is out to seduce her, and she has to learn about her new powers from an eccentric necromancer who employs some out-of-the-box teaching methods. In short, was a lot of fun to write.

Terra ~ How do you develop your plots and characters?

Angie ~ It’s a very organic process for me. I have a basic outline, but I find the story flows better if I just let go and write what entertains me. I figure if I’m having a great time with it, my readers will too.

For example, when I sat down to write A Tale of Two Demon Slayers, I knew that Lizzie’s pet dog Pirate was going to have fun – he always does. And he’s a blast to write, because (thanks to Lizzie’s powers) he can talk. But I didn’t know just what kind of trouble Pirate was going to get himself into.

Well, it turns out he finds a dragon egg. The thing hatches and he decides he has a pet. It made me smile to think of a pet owning a pet. Lizzie is not happy about that. She has enough going on and doesn’t think her dog needs to own a pet.

So she tells Pirate to find a new home for Flappy the dragon (Pirate named him, not Lizzie). So Lizzie is battling evil people and losing track of what Pirate is doing. He keeps promising to find a new home for the dragon, but instead Pirate is hiding the dragon, and loving the dragon and teaching him tricks. Every time Lizzie realizes the dragon is still there, it’s gotten bigger and bigger and, well, it’s just one more thing she can’t quite control.

Terra ~ What would you say is your most interesting writing quirk?

Angie ~ I’m always trying to outdo myself, especially at the end of a book. It drives my critique partner nuts. Typical feedback will come like this, “What are you doing? Don’t get me wrong. I like it when you come up with quirky new spells for the Red Skull biker witches. But we’re heading into the climax of the book. Why do we really need more?

I usually don’t have any good answer to questions like that except, “But you laughed, right?” And also, the liberties I took with the biker witches at the end of A Tale of Two Demon Slayers did help further the plot of the book. I had never let them loose in a big battle scene before, so this one was just a kick to experience.

Terra ~ Do you have anything else to add?

Angie ~ Sure do – in honor of Pirate and his new pet dragon, we have the What Supernatural Pet is Right for You? quiz. Take it and post your answer below and you’ll be entered to win a copy of A Tale of Two Demon Slayers.

http://quiz.angiefox.com/supernatural-pet/

I’m also naming a character in my next book after one lucky reader. Visit my website (www.angiefox.com) if you’d like to enter to win.



A Tale of Two Demon Slayers

Chapter One
After all my years of organizing field trips, fire drills and potty breaks for my three-year-olds at Happy Hands Preschool, you’d think I could get two geriatric biker witches through the Las Vegas airport in under an hour. But sometimes the things that look simple on the outside aren’t. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.

“Don’t you even dream about casting a spell on that man,” I said to my Grandma, who had paused next to a heavy set guy sneaking a cigarette in the non-smoking area outside the Fly Away Bar and Grill. Her black “Harley’s Angels” T-shirt stood in stark contrast to his pin stripe business suit and red power tie.

Grandma tossed a lock of long gray hair over her shoulder as she rooted through her black leather bag. “He won’t even know what hit him.” She answered, in a voice roughened by hard living and an extra-loud rendition of “The Devil Went Down To Georgia,” sung in the parking garage elevator.

I gritted my teeth as a bearded student thwacked my elbow with his taped together backpack. In all fairness, he was busy avoiding a woman lugging a rolling suitcase that tipped over every three seconds. Was it sad that I envied them? At least they were moving.

Normally I’m a fast walker, an organized person and certainly not the type to be late for my flight. I glanced down the immense glass and silver terminal as six more people joined the already overloaded airport security line.

Ant Eater, Grandma’s second in command, flexed her shoulders and stretched out her neck. “I hope the stuffed suit’s not a lawyer.” She adjusted her silver spiked riding gloves. “He might sue you if I kick his ass.”

“Nobody is kicking anybody’s – ” I searched for the right word. “Tuffet.”

Seven years with preschoolers had made it nearly impossible for me to curse.

“Okay now I’m really late. Time to go.” I took Grandma by the purse and was about to grab Ant Eater by the silver stud belt. Then I thought the better of it. Ant Eater took orders about as well as Genghis Kahn tap danced.

She caught my hesitation and grinned at me, her gold tooth glinting in the late afternoon sunlight.

Grandma shook off my hold, moved in behind the smoking man and with the stealth of someone well-practiced at placing “Kick Me” signs, she sprinkled what looked to be sawdust over his back and shoulders. Poor guy was going to think he had dandruff – or that he’d stood too close to a wood chipper.

The man gasped, the lit cigarette teetering on his lip. Meanwhile Grandma uttered something under her breath that sounded strikingly like a Gregorian chant. Fingers shaking, he dropped the cigarette on the floor and ground it out under his heel.

“Once rude. Always rude,” Ant Eater huffed.

The man turned to Grandma, eyes unfocused like he was waking up from a dream. “I don’t smoke. Do I?”

“Not anymore,” Grandma slapped him on the back.

Amazing. And here I thought she was going to Itch spell him, maybe hit him with a Frozen Underwear bomb. “Is that new?” Never mind what it meant to mess with the man’s free will. Or what would happen if GlaxoSmithKline ever got wind of it.

“Mixed it up yesterday,” she said, with more than a hint of pride.

We’d talk about it later. But at the moment…

“I need to go,” I said, ducking into the crowd behind what looked to be an entire soccer team heading for Terminal C. “You can see me off at the security line or you can see me off here. Doesn’t matter.”

I started walking, witches be darned. I had a sexy shape-shifting griffin to meet. Frankly, it was the only way you could get me on a plane. I wasn’t crazy about flying. It was bad enough Dimitri’s business had kept him from escorting me to the airport. I mean, isn’t that how a romantic trip to Greece is supposed to start?

Besides, Grandma and the gang should be packing. They only had three days to drive out to New York if they wanted to catch their seniors’ cruise to the Mediterranean. It was the easiest way to bring Harleys along. Plus, those witches loved buffets.

Now that I finally had a ticket and I almost had a griffin, I wasn’t going to let a couple of pokey witches make me miss my flight.

I quickened my pace and took a quick inventory of the crowd in front of me: several kids in jeans that were either too tight or gangster baggy, a coach of some type who always seemed to find the break in the crowd. I squinted. I’d bet my big toe he was part-fairy, but I doubted even he was aware of it. A couple of business people… Nothing out of the ordinary, at least from a supernatural perspective.

A nice, normal day. It almost felt strange. It was like I was waiting for something to go wrong.

The two witches clanked behind me. Between their silver accessories and the spells they carried in glass jars, they could hardly move without something banging together.

“Lizzie Brown,” Grandma drew a labored breath but I wasn’t buying it. This woman would smoke me in a foot race for a shot of Southern Comfort. “You’re as jumpy as a jackrabbit.”

“Can’t help it. I’m too close.” I said, dodging a family of four. Close to a dream vacation, without demons, imps, hellions or anything else that went bump in the night. A blessedly normal trip. Did I even remember what normal felt like anymore? I couldn’t wait to find out.

“Hold up,” Grandma rumbled next to me, keeping pace.

I ignored her.

They were supposed to make this easy. They were supposed to drop me off at the outside baggage check. Instead, they had to find parking for their Harleys, hit every wrong button on the parking lot elevator and insult the check-in clerk. Of course American Airlines didn’t offer upgrades for demon slayers, even if I did save Las Vegas and pretty much the entire West Coast from Armageddon. As it stood, I was lucky those two didn’t get me downgraded to crazy.

I dug a finger under the strap of my sundress that had fallen down with weight of my carry-on and said a quick pair of thanks for my ultra comfy Adidas Supernova Cushion Cross Trainers.

“You’re not late,” Ant Eater growled off my left shoulder. “You’re two-and-a-half hours early.”

Yeah, well that was late in my book. I always liked to arrive for international flights at least three hours prior to takeoff. Next time, I’d add a half hour for each witch who decided to see me off.

“Well you can take one more minute.” Grandma cut in front of me and attempted to detour us toward a metal bench with thin gray cushions. “This is important. Vital,” she said, her blue eyes boring into mine.

“No. It can’t be.” I could practically hear my departure gate calling for me. “Why can’t it wait?”

“Loosen your bra straps, okay?” Grandma said, as she led me over to the bench. “I helped save you from a she-demon, you can give me a minute on an airport bench.”

“One minute,” I said, knowing I was doomed.

Grandma took my hands, her silver rings hard against my skin and her palms rough from riding her bike. “Our situation has changed. I felt it on the way over here, Lizzie. I think you’re ready.”

The only thing I was ready for was an in-flight cocktail.

While Grandma and the rest of the Red Skull biker witches took their magic very seriously, they also had a way of practicing the kind of loosey-goosey lifestyle that gave me hives.

“Ready for what?” I asked, hefting my shoulder strap again. The Port-A-Pooch pet carrier was the best on the market. I’d researched it. But the darned thing wasn’t light. Neither was its cargo.

Grandma nodded and Ant Eater reached inside her black fringed bag. Out came a small wooden chest, about half the size of a shoe box.

Oh help me, Rhonda.

Thick iron bands supported the bottom and wrapped around the lid. Studs drilled into the bands. The tips of them almost looked like switch stars, the main weapon of demon slayers like me. I traced a finger over the wood itself – old and furrowed with carving marks, as if the box had been sculpted from solid wood.

“This was your mother’s,” Grandma said, her fingers tracing a switch star. “After your mom left us, I promised your Aunt Serefina that if we found you, if you had powers, I’d give this to you when I thought you were ready.” She placed the box into my hands like it was a piece of fine china. “I think you can handle it now.”

“Oh.” The box was lighter than I’d expected. Smoother. I found the bench and sat with the box in my lap.

I tried to tune out the noise of the airport and take this in, be appreciative. For all I knew, this could be a watershed moment – one I’d look back on for the rest of my life. I wanted to recognize the importance of my demon slayer heritage. Instead, my mind kept wandering back to the words Grandma had used. I think you can handle it now.

Handle what? Everything I’d handled since Grandma found me two months ago, right before I’d morphed into the Demon Slayer of Dalea, had been much more of an adventure than I’d ever asked for – or wanted.

As uncomfortable as it was, if I was truly honest with myself, the only thing I had a mind to handle was the sexy shape-shifting griffin meeting me at my departure gate.

I studied the protective runes carved into the bottom of the box. “What makes you think I’m ready now?”

Grandma took a seat next to me. “I’m not sure you are,” she admitted. “Let’s see if you can open it.”

Oh lovely, and just what I needed – a test.

The box didn’t have a keyhole, or a clear lid. In fact, I didn’t see any openings at all. “Should we really try and open this here?” In a crowded airport? “Do we know what’s inside? I’m going to have enough trouble getting my switch stars through security.”

My hand wandered down to my demon slayer utility belt and the five switch stars it held. The stars were flat and round, about the shape of small dinner plates. Razor-sharp blades curled around the edges. The TSA wouldn’t like them, but I had to have them on me at all times.

Grandma sighed. “I told you we put a spell on your switch stars so nobody can see them. Otherwise, you’d have been arrested by now.”

Ant Eater nodded, her gray curls bobbing slightly as she looked down at me. “You should have let us take care of your jumbo bottle of shampoo too. I don’t know why you insisted on stuffing everything into a one-quart baggie.”

“Rules are rules.” A fact Grandma and the gang would do well to remember. Besides, I was worried enough getting my switch stars through the metal detector. I didn’t need things to fall apart if something went wrong with my Pantene Pro-V.

As for the box? “Please say it’s not something live.”

A nose snorted from my carry-on. “I heard that.”

Ever since I came into my demon slaying powers, my Jack Russell Terrier could speak – real words. I was still getting used to it.

Pirate wriggled an ear, then a nose, and finally his entire top half out of the green Port-A-Pooch. He blinked sleepily. Today, I’d followed my checklist for preparing an animal for flight, which had meant lots of exercise to wear him out and hopefully get him to snooze through a good portion of the trip. It had worked, until now.

“You sounded worried,” he said, “but don’t you worry because I am on the job.” Pirate squirmed the rest of the way out of the carrier and shook off, his tags clinking. “Some days, I think I’m part German Shepherd.” He sniffed at the box, his little body quivering. He was mostly white, with a dollop of brown on his back that wound up his neck and over one eye.

He gave a full body sneeze. “No animals,” he announced. “In fact, it don’t have any smell at all. That’s too bad.”

I turned the box over in my hands.

Pirate licked at it. “It’s pretty.”

Sure. Pretty like Pandora’s box. My mom hadn’t exactly been the best influence on me. And she’d proven that I couldn’t trust her. “We’ll check it with the luggage and I’ll open it in Greece.”

“Why?” Grandma asked. “I want to see what’s in it.”

“You don’t know?” I didn’t like that one bit.

Maybe it was a good idea to open it with Grandma and Ant Eater here, in case whatever was in there decided to attack.

I tugged at the teardrop emerald around my neck, given to me by Dimitri. It held an endless source of protective magic, which was good because otherwise it would have been used up a week after he’d given it to me.

I glanced at Ant Eater. “You still have those stun spells?”

She patted her black fringe purse. And I had five switch stars.

No telling what my mom left behind in this box. She’d shirked her duty, passed along her demon slayer powers to me before dumping me off on my adoptive family. I didn’t relish the idea of any more surprises from Mom.

Grandma placed a sandpapery hand on my arm. “Open it, Lizzie. It’s part of your destiny.”

Destiny my foot. Since when was I going to get to choose my own life? I’d been forced to go up against a mad scientist demon and then a sex-on-the-brain Las Vegas succubus and right when I was about to take off on a dream trip to Greece with my hot boyfriend, Grandma wanted me to open up a box full of trouble.

“If I open this now, I could get arrested, miss my flight, let a creature loose on the airport…”

Grandma nodded, admitting the possibility. “Or you could gain a powerful tool that you need right now.”

“I don’t need anything right now except sun, sand and a shot or two of ouzo.”

“So you say.”

“So I know.”

“Then why are you still holding the box?”

Why indeed?

Heaven help me. The worst part was I knew how to open the box without a latch or a lock. I touched each of the fingers on my right hand to each of the five switch star adornments on the box. They warmed under my fingers and my stomach filled with dread.

I wasn’t kidding Grandma about the ‘getting arrested’ part. My short time in the magical world had taught me that unexpected things could – and always did – happen to me.

“Hold on to your britches.” I placed my hands on either side of the iron bars lining the box and lifted them away.

Pirate’s collar jingled as he danced in place. “Ooh…smoky!”

A thin stream of vapor flowed from the opening in the box, giving way to delicate rings.

Fingers stiff with anticipation, I lifted the lid.

Lavender velvet cushioned the inside of the box. Three loops made up of the same material lined the bottom, supporting – nothing.

“It’s empty.” I said, surprised, confused and – I’ll admit it – a bit relieved.

“No it’s not,” Grandma said, huskily. “Touch it.”

“Touch what?” I brushed my fingers over the velvet insides of the box. Down lower, close to the empty holders.

“Touch it.”

I did. My breath caught in my throat as my fingers scraped a smooth, invisible bar.

“What is it?” I asked, gathering the courage to touch it again. It wasn’t any longer than my hand. Round, from what I could gather. It felt like glass, only slicker.

“Is it hot?” Grandma asked.

“No.”

“Cold?”

“No. It doesn’t feel like anything.”

“Or smell like anything,” Pirate said.

Grandma whistled. “I think it’s a training bar. Your mom used to use one with her instructors. Your Aunt Serefina too. Only theirs I could see. Usually.”

“But I don’t have any instructors.” I didn’t even have Aunt Serefina. She’d died trying to save the coven. “I just have you.” Sure Grandma did what she could, but she seemed as much in awe of this thing as I was.

“Yeah, well that’s about to change too,” she said, unable to keep a smile out of her voice.

I flicked my eyes up to find her looking at me like it was my birthday. “Now?” I’d been asking for this kind of training for weeks and she picks now.

“Of course. You had – what? Two days off in Vegas while we planned this trip.” She said it like she couldn’t imagine what I’d been doing.

“I was recovering from an almost-Armageddon.”

“With your hot, sexy griffin.”

“We slept most of the time!”

“Oh come on, Lizzie – you’re a demon slayer. What’d you think it would be? Sunshine and cupcakes?”

“No. But I could use a week off.” Or even one more day.

“Time off is for pussies. I wrangled up a kick butt instructor for you. Better than the entire team your mom had. Formal training begins in Greece.”

Dimitri would love that. “And this is for training?”

“Maybe.” She looked inside the box. “I don’t know. I didn’t plan this part. But there’s a way you can find out.”

I didn’t want to know.

“I saw your mom do it. Serefina too. Hold it. Wrap your hand around it and it’ll tell you what you need to do next.”

Sure, why not take advice from an invisible bar that had once belonged to my crazy mother?

Problem was it played to my weakness. I loved to know exactly what was going on.
“So this will tell me what I need to do in terms of training?”

Grandma rubbed at the Phoenix tattoo on her arm. “For you, probably yes. For your mother, it foretold of the attack on our coven.” She dropped her hands. “It predicted her sister’s death, but hell, it also predicted mine. You don’t see me going anywhere, do you? Nobody can tell exactly what is going to happen. Free will is always in play.”

Yeah, except for the smoker she’d spelled.

I ran a finger along the bar and felt nothing.

“Try it,” Grandma said. “For me. I want to be here when you use it for the first time.”

Oh geez. I rubbed Pirate on the head and let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“Okay.” I might as well figure out what I had to do next. There would be brainstorming to do, lists to write. Dimitri had a laptop, which meant I could even type my lists. This was sounding better all the time.

I eased the bar out of the velvet loops and paused for a split second before wrapping one hand around it.

Grandma’s breath brushed my shoulder. “Clear your mind.”

I did. At that moment, I let go of everything and focused all of my energy on the smooth glass in my hand. It felt solid, comforting. Warmth flooded my palm and crept up my arm. My breathing quickened as a door opened in my mind. I gasped.

“What is it?” Grandma asked.

“Wait,” I said, catching glimpses of a hazy picture. I squeezed my eyes shut and reached out for an image just beyond my reach. I gripped the bar tighter. It was like I was an inch away from opening another door.

“What is it?” Grandma held my arm.

I made it. The door fell open and I saw Dimitri. He knelt among the ruins of a great stone building in the middle of a forest. Sweat coated his broad back and glinted off his olive skin. He turned to me, his hands covered in blood. I sucked in a breath. This wasn’t real.

“Lizzie,” he called out, his face twisted in anguish.

Please don’t let it be real.

My heart raced and I fought the urge to go to him.

This isn’t real.

And then I saw myself lying on the ground, my chest ripped open and my head twisted at an impossible angle.
“Enough!” I smashed the bar onto the floor and heard it shatter.

Grandma yawped. “Damn it, Lizzie!”

I didn’t care. My eyes flew open. I braced my hands against the airport bench and forced myself to take deep, even breaths. I was back.

Grandma’s worried eyes met mine. “Whatever you saw, you don’t have to do it, Lizzie. You hear me? You don’t have to do it.”

“I know.” I said. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want Dimitri to have to watch, or find me later, or whatever had happened. I had no idea what I’d just seen. I’d never used an object like the bar before. For all I knew, the thing was cursed, damaged, on the fritz.

“What’d you see?” Ant Eater crouched in front of me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” It was a twisted vision. It didn’t mean anything.

Besides, no good could come out of Grandma and Ant Eater analyzing a prophecy of my death. And she said herself it wasn’t always right.

Still, I couldn’t get the horrible image out of my mind. Being a demon slayer was dangerous work. I knew that. And, yes, people had tried to kill me before – but I’d never had to see, in high-definition detail, exactly what could happen.
This bar had predicted the death of the demon slayer before me. Now it was supposed to tell me what the near future held for me.

Mouth dry, I stared straight ahead, willing myself to focus on the commuters rushing past.

“Stop.” I told myself. I was at the airport. I ran my hands up my arms, over my unbroken chest. I was fine. Dimitri was handling paperwork instead of my blood and guts. He would be meeting me at the gate soon. “Stop it.” Think of something else.

At least the bar was gone, reduced to a million invisible little pieces.

“Um, Lizzie?” Ant Eater stood and began backing away slowly, her motorcycle boots treading light as a chorus of tiny shards began crackling all at once. It sounded like an ice storm on a tin roof.

“What’s it doing?” Grandma demanded.

“How should I know?” I stood, one hand on my switch stars.

“Hold up,” Grandma cautioned. “You draw a star and every TSA agent, police officer and security guard is going to be on you like a chicken on a June bug.”

Pirate growled. “I’d attack it, but I don’t see it. Now that ain’t right.” He paced back and forth next to me. “I thought you said we were going to take a vacation from all of this hoodoo.”

My thoughts exactly.

We all watched the off-white floor, as if we’d suddenly be able to see my family’s supernatural gift, one of the many that hadn’t quite worked out for me.

“Well,” Grandma said, “You couldn’t have opened the box if you weren’t ready.”

“Naturally.” I replied, wondering how the heck I was supposed to handle this one.

We never could tell if the bar managed to find all of its pieces, or how it fit itself back together. But I did feel it, as it rolled up to me and rested against my right foot.

Breakfast in Bed by Robin Kaye

Thanks so much for inviting me to your blog, Terra! I thought I’d talk a little bit today about why I feel in love with the hero of my latest book, Breakfast in Bed. Here’s some background…

I fell in love with Rich Ronaldi the moment the thought of him popped into my head, which was on the first page of my first book, Romeo, Romeo. The man looks like the Italian version of a Greek God, has a great job, three post-secondary degrees, brains, and a sense of humor. What’s not to love?

Okay, with Rich, there’s plenty. Then, I’ve always been the type to fall in a love with a man’s flaws as well as his qualities.

Rich has a lot of qualities that I love in a man—here are just a few of his.
- He has a sense of humor. He sees the humor in life and others, and can laugh at himself.
- He’s comfortable in his own skin.
- He feels good about himself and helps others to do the same.
- He’ll step in to protect or defend his woman, but doesn’t have a problem stepping aside and enjoying the show while she takes care of it herself.
- He isn’t so busy beating his own chest that he doesn’t notice the strength and weaknesses of others.
- He doesn’t mind sleeping on the wet spot. *grin*
- He loves animals—even those who are difficult to love like Becca’s killer three-legged cat, Tripod.

Now I never said Rich was perfect. He has all the aforementioned qualities but he also has plenty of flaws.
- There is his inability to do anything remotely domestic. After all, a man can only get away with his mother doing his laundry, bringing him food, and cleaning his apartment for so long.
- He’s a little arrogant.
- He allows all the women in his life to spoil him. But when you think of it, given the opportunity, who wouldn’t?
- He’s too good-looking for his own good.

So if you were Becca who not only doesn’t care for Rich but by no fault of her own finds herself sharing an apartment with him in exchange for coaching in the domestic arts, what would you do? As for Becca and me, we’d have a great time watching the show. What can be more satisfying than sitting back and watching while Rich learns the ins and outs of cooking and cleaning? Okay, there is one thing, but Becca manages to enjoy his prowess in the bedroom while laughing at his foibles in the kitchen and just about every other room of the apartment.

***So, if you had your own Domestic God in Training, what would you put on his to do list?***

Breakfast in Bed by Robin Kaye—in stores January 2010
The third funny, sexy, contemporary romance from a fresh new voice in romance fiction

Rich, the epitome of “anti-domestic,” can’t cook to save his life, and his idea of cleaning his apartment is to invite his mother over. But he’s ready to settle down, and he can’t stop thinking about the ex-girlfriend who got away. When he notices that his soon-to-be-married friends cooked and cleaned their way into their women’s hearts, he asks his friend Becca to help transform him into a nurturing man to win back his ex.

Rich is the only guy who’s taken the time to know Becca for herself. She decides she’ll give him the makeover he’s asking for, though she’ll be damned if she’s going to turn him into a domestic god for another woman. She wants Rich for herself, but how can she convince him that her kitchen and her bedroom are the only domestic locales he desires?

About the Author
Award-winning author Robin Kaye is a professional writer and winner of the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart award for her first novel, Romeo, Romeo. Once it was published, Romeo, Romeo won the 2008 Best Contemporary itRom (Italian Romance) Award by Romance B(u)y the Book, the 2009 HOLT Medallion Contest First Place Winner for Best Romantic Comedy and the 2009 NJRW Golden Leaf Award Winner for Best Single Title. Her romantic comedies feature sexy, nurturing heroes and feisty, independent heroines. She lives with her husband and three children in Mt. Airy, Maryland. For more information, please visit http://www.robinkayewrites.com/

Make sure and answer Robin's question and leave your email addy as Sourcebooks is giving away 1 set of Robin’s full trio of books, Romeo, Romeo, Too Hot to Handle and Breakfast in Bed. Thanks so much to Sourcebooks and Robin for being here today and the generous giveaway.



Chapter 1 Excerpt

Rebecca Larsen shouldered open the door of her new Park Slope apartment and surveyed the wreckage. A pizza box lay open on the coffee table, containing the remnants of a sausage and mushroom pizza of indeterminate age. By this point, Becca was on her last nerve. Her cat had shrieked for the entire trip from Philadelphia to Brooklyn, and as Becca gazed about the room she began to feel a sensation akin to entering the Twilight Zone.

Annabelle, Becca’s best friend, sister-in-law, and resident of the apartment until two weeks ago, wasn’t a neatnik by any stretch of the imagination, but Becca had never seen her leave this much of a mess. Empty beer bottles littered the remaining space on the coffee table, and a pair of very large shoes lay underneath. Men’s shoes. Becca’s sense of unease escalated. It definitely looked as if there was a man living there. Yep, the XXL fleece hoodie thrown on the couch was her first clue; the second was the singing that came from the direction of the bathroom seconds after the hiss of the shower started.

Becca grabbed the baseball bat she found leaning against the wall by the closet and skulked to the bedroom. The bed was unmade, which wasn’t startling, but the collection of men’s jeans hanging off every surface as well as a mess of jockey shorts and socks on the floor certainly was. Not as much, though, as the voice coming from the shower. It was a rich bass baritone, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he was singing an old ’40s tune. God, who sings songs from the ’40s? Whoever it was had a smooth, smoky, sexy-as-hell voice that was hot enough to make a woman melt like chocolate in a two thousand-degree kiln. The guy in the shower had one hell of a voice. Too bad he was also going to have one hell of a bruise.

She spent some time thinking about whether she should hit him while he was in the shower or wait until he got out. He’d gotten through the first stanza of his song and the whole chorus before she decided to wait until he emerged. The shower curtain might severely curtail the speed at which the bat would hit, and then there was the problem with proper aim.

Pushing the door open with the end of the bat, she watched the steam roll toward her and bring with it the scent of yummy-man. A man who smelled like that at any other time would have her following him just to get a whiff. His scent was clean, with citrus and spice overtones that made her mouth water. The body that stepped out of the shower bare-ass-naked stole the breath from her lungs, the attack plan from her memory, and made her thankful she was a woman who could appreciate the human form because she’d never seen one finer. Her eyes wandered back to his face just in time to see the corner of his full lips lift to form a grin. If looked at separately, each part of his face—the Roman nose, sapphire blue eyes, curled spiky black eye lashes—was almost pretty, but something about the way they fit together and the addition of his five-o’clock-shadow-before-noon, stole the prettiness from his face and made it arrestingly gorgeous. He was the Sicilian version of a Greek god. He had to be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in person, and as a sculptor, she’d seen more than her fair share of beautiful people. Too bad she disliked him.

Rich Ronaldi looked over his shoulder to find his sister’s best friend staring wide-eyed at his bare ass. Well, maybe it wasn’t only his ass she stared at because when he turned, she got a load of the full monty.

Becca rested the end of the bat she carried on the floor. “Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing here?”

Rich had never been the shy type, but the women who got a load of him in the buff were usually invited to do so. Becca, Miss prim-and-proper-ice-princess, wasn’t. He wished he knew where the damn towels were. He’d just moved in, well, in a figurative sense of the word. He’d stayed there for a few days, and he had a towel somewhere, but knowing himself, it was on the floor along with his dirty socks and underwear.

If he’d known she’d be coming by, he’d have kicked them into the closet or at least under the bed. But then, Becca was the last woman he’d expected to darken his doorstep. He had no clue why, but since their first meeting, he got the distinct impression she wasn’t overly fond of him. “How did you get in here?”

Becca didn’t seem to grasp the fact that standing naked in front of a woman who wouldn’t normally give him the time of day is not the most comfortable thing to do. She didn’t turn away or hand him a towel, not that there was one at hand. He brushed past her into the bedroom, saw a towel hanging off the footboard of his bed, and quickly tied it around his waist. The only reaction he saw from Becca was a blink.

“I used my key. What are you doing in my bedroom, taking a shower in my bathroom, which is conveniently located in my apartment?”

Rich let out a laugh. “Hold on. I’m the one asking the questions here. This is my apartment. I’m leasing it from Rosalie and Nick.”

She crossed her arms, the action pulling her baggy sweatshirt taut across her chest. A chest he forgot she even had. When he realized he was staring, he returned his gaze to her face and found her rolling her eyes.

“You’re impossible. So is your story since I’m subletting the apartment from Annabelle. It was her apartment, and now it’s mine. You need to leave.”

She looked like one of those sexy Anime cartoon characters. She was tall, just a few inches shorter than his own 6’3”, and thin with long, long legs and short, choppy, platinum blonde, perpetually tussled hair that gave her a sexy as hell, just-been-fucked look. Rich mimicked her stance, careful not to spread his legs wide enough to dislodge the towel, though it would serve her right if he did. “You’re wrong. Rosalie and Nick own the apartment. They rented it to Annabelle, who has since moved out. I moved in. If anyone is leaving, it’s you.”

“Well then, we have a problem. Because as of right now, I’m living here.”

THE SWAN THIEVES (Unabridged) (3 Copy Audiobook Giveaway)

THE SWAN THIEVES (Unabridged)
By Elisabeth Kostova, read by Treat Williams, Anne Heche, Erin Cottrell, Sarah Zimmerman, and John Lee

Synopsis
Psychiatrist Andrew Marlowe, devoted to his profession and the painting hobby he loves, has a solitary but ordered life. When renowned painter Robert Oliver attacks a canvas in the National Gallery of Art and becomes his patient, Marlow finds that order destroyed. Desperate to understand the secret that torments the genius, he embarks on a journey that leads him into the lives of the women closest to Oliver and a tragedy at the heart of French Impressionism.

Kostova's masterful new novel travels from American cities to the coast of Normandy, from the late 19th century to the late 20th, from young love to last love. THE SWAN THIEVES is a story of obsession, history's losses, and the power of art to preserve human hope.

I've got 3 copies to give away, many thanks to Anna at Hatchette for the books!!

So This Is What You Have To Do To Get An Entry!
1. Leave a Comment +1
2. Follow Me +1 already a follower +2
3. Post this contest on your blog (can be on your sidebar or a post) +3

PLEASE put your email in your comments or no entry (no exceptions).
This is for the USA and Canada only please and no Po Boxes (publishers rule)!
Winners will be announced on February 7th 2010!

MARRIAGE AND OTHER ACTS OF CHARITY: A MEMOIR (3 Copy Audiobook Giveaway)

MARRIAGE AND OTHER ACTS OF CHARITY: A MEMOIR (Unabridged) By Kate Braestrup, read by the author.

Synopsis
In her award-winning memoir Here If You Need Me, Kate Braestrup won the hearts of readers across the country with her deeply moving and deftly humorous stories of faith, hope and family. Now, with her inimitable voice and generous spirit, she turns her attention to the subjects of love and commitment in MARRIAGE AND OTHER ACTS OF CHARITY.

As a minister, Kate Braestrup regularly performs weddings. She has also, at 44, been married twice and widowed once, and accordingly has much to say about life after the ceremony. From helping a newlywed couple make amends after their first fight to preparing herself for her second marriage, Braestrup offers her insights and experiences on what it truly means to share your life with someone, from the first kiss to the last straw, for better or for worse.

Part memoir, part observation of modern marriage, and part meditation on the roles of God and love in our everyday lives, MARRIAGE AND OTHER ACTS OF CHARITY is a unique and unforgettable look into why, and how, we love each other, and proves yet again why Kate Braestrup's writing is "inspirational in the best sense" (New York Daily News).

I've got 3 copies to give away, many thanks to Anna at Hatchette for the books!!

So This Is What You Have To Do To Get An Entry!
1. Leave a Comment +1
2. Follow Me +1 already a follower +2
3. Post this contest on your blog (can be on your sidebar or a post) +3

PLEASE put your email in your comments or no entry (no exceptions).
This is for the USA and Canada only please and no Po Boxes (publishers rule)!
Winners will be announced on February 7th 2010!

Winner of Wicked Sinful Nights by Julia Latham

*Scorpio M.

Please send your snail mail info to terraontop57 at yahoo dot com. Congrats to our winner and I hope you enjoy your prize!

Jane Bites Back by Michael Thomas Ford (Terra's Review)

Jane Bites Back by Michael Thomas Ford is quite an entertaining possibility of what Jane Austen would have been like if she were a vampire. I found this book charmingly cute and delightfully refreshing. This is not a hot steamy romance and that is a refreshing change of pace in today's world of romance novels.

Jane Fairfax is the Jane Austen but she guards her secret like a cat guards a prize mouse. Having lived two centuries plus, Jane has moved around quite a bit and seen a fair amount of changes in city life as well as country life. What Jane doesn't see coming is two men of interest that will jog her reclusive life into high giggle mode and her first chance at being a published author in the current century.

The author has given us a cute laughable storyline with some accurate historical back story that will keep you interested from page one to the end. The hijinks's that Jane Austen gets herself into will keep you giggling like a schoolgirl to be sure. Oh and the fact that she meets up with a rival from her long ago past that still holds a grudge makes this even more enjoyable. Especially since this rival can't seem to keep from eternally screwing up everything she touches.

I must be honest and say that I have not read many romance books written by men and I say "kudos" to this author for showing me that there are indeed men out there that do know the difference between romance and sex. The pace of the story was quick enough to keep you enchanted but not so fast as to make you miss anything. My only suggestion to make his work a wee bit better would be to make the chapter transitions a bit smoother. Other than that I cannot wait to see what this author comes up with next.

Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: Ballantine Books; Original edition (December 29, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0345513657
ISBN-13: 978-0345513656

Wicked, Sinful Nights by Julia Latham

Hi to Terra and everyone at Yankee Romance Reviewers! Thanks so much for inviting me to spend the day with you. I’m Julia Latham, and I write medieval romances for Avon books (and Victorian romances for Avon as Gayle Callen—but not this time!).

You might think that as I writer, I work alone all the time. I usually do. But I find that coming up with a new book plot involves a lot of vocalization. My critique group is AWESOME at brainstorming, and I know I couldn’t do it as well without them. There’s an energy in a group of writers as a story begins to take shape among us. It’s a great feeling! There are other moments during the actual writing phase of a book when I need help with a plot point. My husband is really good at brainstorming—as long as it’s not anything involving emotions—or my writing friends can brainstorm by email or by phone. But otherwise, it’s me and my laptop for eight or so hours a day.

Except this coming weekend. I’m going on a writing retreat. Oh, joy!

These are such fun! Four friends and I will travel a few hours to a small A-frame in the country that my mother owns. It will be snowing outside, but we’ll have a fire going in the combination living/dining room as we all open our laptops, spread out, and start working. Really, we honestly spend most of each day typing (or plotting or researching). We break for meals together, and the occasional brainstorming. This weekend I’ll be writing the book that was brainstormed at the last writing retreat in August. We’re each in charge of a meal, and at night we watch a movie, but still, we get a lot done. I can often write 20-30 pages each day. It’s amazing what you can accomplish away from family, the phone, laundry, etc. I’ll still work in a little exercise, even if I have to run up and down stairs if the snow is too deep outside to walk.

In the twenty-one years since I discovered my local chapter of Romance Writers of America, the women I’ve met there have become my best friends. We meet for meals and movies and critiquing each other’s work. But there’s something special about spending a whole weekend together, sharing a common love of writing, whether we’re beginners or pros, published or unpublished. I look forward to it almost like it’s a vacation—but really, I get a lot of work done!

My newest book, WICKED, SINFUL NIGHTS, hit the shelves this week. It’s a medieval about Sir Robert Hilliard, orphaned by a murderer, raised in secrecy by the League of the Blade, an organization devoted to fighting evil and defending the innocent. Robert has never had a normal life until the murderer of his parents was uncovered in TAKEN AND SEDUCED, my April 2009 book. But now Robert is able to live freely and enjoy himself—too much so, according to the League. They give him one last chance to prove himself a valuable member, by assigning him to prove a woman guilty of murder. Sarah Audley is nurse who cares for a five-year-old viscount. It was his father who was murdered, but Sarah doesn’t realize that she’s the target of the investigation. She’s already beginning to fall for Robert when she learns the truth—that’s he’s there to bring about her arrest. It will take the two of them learning to trust each other, battling danger together, and going against the League of the Blade to see if they can have a real future together. If you’d like to read an excerpt, check out my website at http://www.julialatham.com/

So tell me, do you have a favorite group of friends you just couldn’t live without? What do you enjoy doing together? Leave an answer along with your email addy and have a chance to win a copy of Julia's book. One winner will be chosen this weekend.



Chapter 1

Oxfordshire, 1487

She was brazen, for a murderer.

From horseback on a nearby hill, Sir Robert Hilliard looked down upon Drayton Hall, where nursemaid Sarah Audley walked hand-in-hand with her charge, five-year-old Francis Drayton, whom she’d made a viscount by killing his father.

No one suspected the truth but the League of the Blade, the secret society born long ago in a time of darkness to bring justice to innocent victims. Robert was a member, although not by the usual methods.

Viscount Drayton, the murder victim, had once been a Bladesman, too, Robert’s mentor, and had risen to the Council of Elders. Such a man’s death would always be scrutinized. The symptoms of slow arsenic poisoning could look like many other illnesses to the innocent, which explained why it was often employed. But the League was not easily misled, and they had informed King Henry, who’d agreed that a nobleman of his court must be avenged, in court if possible, but if not, Robert knew where his duty lay.

“Do not be misled by Sarah Audley’s beauty.” Sir Walter, Robert’s partner, gave him a penetrating glance.

Like all typical Bladesman, Walter’s last name was a secret. He was a veteran of the League, of average height but impressive strength, his whiskered face lined with care and duty, his gray hair cut short.

“Beauty often disguises ugliness,” Walter continued. “Her beauty was an enticement to Lord Drayton, who could not resist taking her as his mistress. ’Twas a fatal mistake.”

Robert knew why Walter would feel the need to instruct him in even life’s most basic lessons. Robert’s last mission hadn’t begun as a sanctioned League assignment. The fact that it had restored Robert’s brother, Adam, to the earldom of Keswick, gave it credibility. But the League seemed to have forgotten that success, as well as Robert’s previous accomplishments as a Bladesman. Now they only cared about his behavior during the last year. They should not blame him for enjoying himself, when the League was the reason he’d known so little of his own heritage and the pleasures of the outside world. He’d been revealed as the brother of an earl, with money to spend. Women had flocked to him, men had enjoyed his company, and there had been more than one wild night of impropriety.

But now he was on probation, expected to prove himself, when he’d spent his life doing everything the League asked of him. Anger simmered within him, and he wasn’t used to feeling that way toward the League, which had saved and molded his life.

Robert squinted, noticing that Sarah’s red hair was bared to the late spring sun. She was holding hands with the little boy, dancing in a circle. “I cannot tell if she’s beautiful,” he said to Walter with practiced ease. “And ’twill not matter to me. Viscount Drayton was a man who took interest in my education and in my well being. I will not allow a woman to sway my purpose. She will pay for her crimes.”

“As we gather proof against her, you may instruct me as you see fit.”

Robert shot a glance at Walter.

“You are in command of this mission, Sir Robert.”

Robert met the man’s gaze, and if he saw a hint of irony, it was faint. “So the League has decided to evaluate me?”

“We are all evaluated on occasion, Sir Robert. There is no shame in that.”

Robert’s eyes narrowed as he studied his partner. Did Walter approve of the League’s plan—or not? There was no way to tell if he was an ally or an enemy. Which meant Robert could only rely on himself. It had always been that way. The Hilliard brothers were alone in the world, after all.

As he straightened in the saddle, his horse Dragon gave a whinny and tossed its head. “Do your best, Sir Walter. There will only be impressive things to say about me.” Robert gave him a carefree smile. It came naturally, and could hide so much. He remembered the way Drayton had sought him out whenever he had visited the League fortress. He’d shown an interest in Robert’s studies and training when others only wanted to examine him as an experiment. Robert would never forget the nobleman’s kindness.

“Both the League and I want to trust you in all things,” Walter said. “But I feel you need to know that I did not approve of the League’s experiment with you and your brothers when you were children.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

“Then we understand each other,” Walter said.

For several minutes, silence reigned between them as Robert considered his position as commander of this mission. Sarah Audley and the young viscount were now kneeling, looking at something on the ground. She touched the boy’s shoulder gently, with obvious fondness.

“We will be hiding our purpose here,” Robert decided.

Walter only nodded his agreement.

Robert grinned. “Then follow my lead.” He urged his horse down the hill, trotting toward the woman who would be defining the next few days—perhaps weeks—of his life.

She looked up as they neared, and he watched her pleasant expression change into curiosity. She rose to her feet with a natural grace, and he let his gaze drift down her body. She was short and sweetly plump, with rounded, feminine curves meant to make a man feel well comforted in bed. Her gown was plain and unadorned, as befitted a servant rather than a lady. That red hair he’d noticed from afar was pulled back with a simple ribbon, not hidden by a headdress or wimple. He could see the curls she’d attempted to train into submission, but imagined that if she loosened the ribbon, her hair would be wild and untamed.

And then he realized that he was evaluating her as a potential bed partner rather than a murder suspect, the same way he’d evaluated every woman he’d met since he’d been allowed to see women. Though the League thought they’d prepared him for everything, he was unprepared for—her.

Her face was as petite as the rest of her, faint freckles scattered across her upturned nose. She was a woman who did not hide herself from the sun. Lips as deliciously plump as her body were already forming into a generous, though polite, smile. Her eyes were brown, warm in the golden afternoon, almost too large for her face. They should either be cold with death, or veiled to hide her true thoughts. Instead he saw a wealth of sadness, determination, and intelligence. He usually allied himself with uncomplicated women, who were full of joy and seeking pleasure. But Sarah Audley was an enigma, a widow, and already he found himself distracted from what he knew her to be. Was this how she had seduced Drayton? She would not find him so easy a target.

While her brilliant eyes assessed both men in return, she put her hand on the boy’s shoulder as if she could protect him from the world—when she was the one who’d made him an orphan.

He deliberately gave her the appreciative smile he always offered a beautiful woman, ignoring Walter’s curious glance at him.

“Good afternoon, mistress,” Robert said, letting pleasure ripple through his voice. “Tell me we have come to Drayton Hall, for it has been a long day of traveling.”

“Aye, you have, good sir.”

Sarah Audley felt the spell of the stranger’s voice almost immediately. It was deep and soothing, carrying hints of laughter and secret amusement, well cultured and polite, the voice of an educated man.

But she knew a voice could easily hide the truth of a man.

He was a knight at the very least, although surely not much higher, by the plain, functional brigandine he wore over his tunic to protect his torso, and the woolen breeches that covered his legs. He had the broad, muscular body of a man well trained. He was but a knight—so why did she feel a touch of unease?

And then she realized that she was still staring at his body. She quickly lifted her gaze to his lean, angular face, with its square jaw imprinted with a cleft in the middle. He had black, wavy hair cut to just below his ears. His eyes were as bright blue as cornflowers, and regarded her lightly, teasingly, with a hint of admiration, she thought with disbelief. She almost looked over her shoulder. He could not possibly be focusing that look on her. Men did not look at her with possibilities in their minds, as if they could sense all the ways she was a failure as a woman.

But this man didn’t know her. She lifted her chin, her hand still on Francis’s shoulder; the little boy often forgot caution when he could be near a new horse.

Or at least he used to, before grief had claimed his spirit.

“I am Mistress Sarah Audley of Drayton Hall,” she said. Feeling a bit vulnerable, she was not ready to reveal to strangers that the boy with her was the young viscount. “We welcome weary travelers. Unless you have business here that I may help you with?”

“I am Sir Robert Burcot, late of the king’s court,” the younger man said, his smile so warm and knowing.

“And I am Sir Walter Gravesend.” The older man nodded, his face grizzled even as his body displayed that he was yet a warrior.

Sir Robert looked from his companion to her. “We are traveling on the king’s business, so we welcome your generosity.”

She withheld a shiver. The king’s business.

Sir Robert’s too intelligent gaze dropped to the boy, and Sarah resisted the need to pull him closer.

“And who is this fine young man?”

Francis giggled, even as Sarah knew she could not keep his identity from such men. “He is my charge, Francis, Viscount Drayton.”

To her surprise, Sir Robert dismounted and while holding onto the reins, bowed before Francis. “’Tis indeed a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

Francis covered his mouth against another giggle. He had curly brown hair and more freckles than she did. It was good to see laughter in his eyes rather than sadness. He missed his father terribly. He didn’t remember his mother so well after a year, but the grief from his father’s death weeks before was yet fresh. He had taken to hours of long silences, when he would look at her with his great wounded eyes. It was difficult for her lately to capture his interest and distract him.

Yet she understood him well, for once upon a time she’d suffered through her own grief.

Sir Walter dismounted as well, his face grave as he regarded the boy. “We heard of the viscount’s passing. You have our sympathies.”

She nodded, then found her gaze on Sir Robert again. “Sir Anthony Ramsey, the viscount’s guardian, is not in residence at present.”

“’Tis a shame,” Sir Robert said. “I had heard of him at court, and looked forward to an introduction.”

“You can come in,” Francis suddenly said.

Sarah gaped down at the little boy, and she knew that the two men might misinterpret her expression. But how could she explain her shock at Francis’s ease of speaking?

Sir Robert’s smile was blinding in the sunlight. “You are gracious, my lord. I accept your offer.”

Before she knew it, she and Francis were leading the way through the gatehouse. Inside, the courtyard opened up, surrounded by lodgings built into the castle walls, along with shops and sheds for the various craftsmen. The old keep rose before them, with its high turrets, which had been keeping watch over the castle for centuries. There were windows cut into it now, an attempt to make it more modern, but it still looked forbidding to her—yet safe. She’d so wanted to be safe there, and she had been, until Lord Drayton’s death.

The houndsman nodded to her as he led his dogs toward the gatehouse in a happy pack. Knights continued their practice on the small tiltyard near the barracks, the sound of their swords ringing in the air. Laundry women carried baskets from the main keep and away from the courtyard, where chickens scratched in the dirt and fluttered out of everyone’s way.

“’Tis a fine castle,” Sir Robert said, coming up beside her.

“Aye. ’Twas a welcome place for me when I arrived.” She almost winced. Why was she rambling about something that was not this stranger’s business?

“You have not spent your life here?”

“Nay, I was raised elsewhere.” She said nothing else, hoping he would understand that she considered her life private.

“So you must have come here to be the boy’s nursemaid.”

She was surprised to find him watching her with such interest. Sir Walter behaved as other men usually did, staring about the courtyard as the servants and craftsmen attended to their duties. Francis only let his gaze wander back and forth between the newcomers.

“I do not remember telling you my position,” she said, hoping to dissuade his unsettling interest.

“You called the boy your charge,” he said, shrugging. “I pay attention to everything a beautiful woman says.”

She almost snorted with amusement at that. Even Sir Walter looked away, as if he couldn’t watch. Did Sir Robert make a habit of charming women wherever he went? And it must work, if he continued to employ it. But she was not a woman used to succumbing to a man’s charms—my goodness, men seldom tried.

There was Sir Simon Chapman, she amended guiltily, remembering the knight from Sir Anthony’s household. He had been paying sweet attention to her in the last few weeks, and lately he’d begun to touch her, taking her hand or putting an arm around her waist. She had flinched the first few times he’d done so, embarrassing herself and him. She wanted to be past the memory of her husband’s cruelty and the way it had touched her for too many years.

She didn’t know if she should respond to Sir Simon’s courtship or not. Would Sir Anthony release her from service, now that Francis was his ward? She tried not to shudder at the thought, reminding herself that he seemed in no hurry to lose her. But Francis would grow older, of course, and someday soon would no longer need a nurse. Would she be an outcast, alone and friendless again?

“’Tis late in the afternoon,” she said. “Shall I show you to lodgings for the night? You would be welcome to join us in the great hall for supper.”

“That is gracious of you, mistress,” Sir Robert said, sweeping his cap from his head.

“I will tell Cook,” Francis suddenly said, then raced off toward the keep.

Sarah hesitated, then glanced at Sir Walter before saying, “Forgive my surprise a moment ago, when the young lord invited you inside. My expression had nothing to do with either of you. It is just that…he has spoken little since his father died, and with your arrival, he has said more in an hour than he has in a day of late.”

Sir Robert smiled. “You have my thanks for the explanation.”

She gestured for a groom to come tend their horses, then led them to the guest lodgings built into the curtain wall, where several stone staircases led up to the first floor of each lodgings.

“There is an inner and outer chamber on the first floor,” she said, gesturing within to the room sparsely furnished with a table and benches, a cupboard and a chest. “There are two bedchambers above this. If you take the interior stairs to the ground floor, you can follow the passage into the keep itself, rather than walk outdoors on a stormy day. I will send chambermaids to see that your rooms are aired and well supplied with linens. Supper is at five of the clock,” she added, gesturing to the clock on the mantel. She curtsied and departed.

Sarah hurried across the courtyard, smiling at servants and friends, shrugging at their questions about the new guests. She resisted the temptation to look back where she’d left Sir Robert and Sir Walter. Besides their names, she didn’t know who these men were, or what business they were about for the king.

But they’d looked at her too closely. She was a woman many men treated as almost invisible. Why did she suddenly merit notice?

Winner of Bitten by Cupid by Lynsay Sands

*Jackie Uhrmacher

Please send your snail mail info to terraontop57 at yahoo dot com. Congrats to our winner and I hope you enjoy your prize!

Bitten by Cupid by Lynsay Sands (An Interview)

Terra ~ Marguerite Argeneau is the beloved matron of the Argeneau clan and a hopeless romantic. Do you think she does her match making is more out of the motherly love she has for all those around her or is it more of a driven womans institutions that clues her in?

Lynsay ~ It’s a combination of both. They say everyone has their talent and immortals are no different. They have their own unique strengths and weaknesses. Marguerite’s strength happens to be that she can tune in to her immortal intuition and just knows whom would be good with whom.

Terra ~ Which of the Argeneau books that you’ve written so far would be your favorite and why? Also, is there the possibility of an ending to this family in the future that you can see or are you going to keep us all happy with as many more of these wonderful stories?

Lynsay ~ My favorite will always be Single, White Vampire for a number of reasons. It was my first Argeneau published, Kate and Lucern just really clicked as a couple so it was a lot of fun to write and I can relate to Lucern’s character because he’s an author too.
As for how many more I'll write, I really don't know. There are still so many interesting characters. I mean, Marguerite's son Christian deserves a life mate, and Jeanne Louise, that poor girl needs one, and you know those hot Notte twins really need to be hooked up because it just seems criminal to leave hot men like that wandering around unattached. . . I guess we'll have to wait and see how many more come.

Terra ~ Why did you pick Tiny as the victim in this particular story and why pair him with someone so totally opposite in nature?

Lynsay ~ Well opposites do attract, right? Besides, I think couples need to compliment each other. Mirabeau needed a partner that could soften her harder edges and Tiny needs a little wild in his life. Also Tiny is not the stereotypical kind of guy. He's built like a linebacker, cooks like a God, smart as a whip as a detective, and is as patient as Jobe. He's perfect for Mirabeau, he'll be an asset to her. Besides, his best friend is Jackie who also happens to be edgy so I think we can assume he and Mirabeau will do all right.

Terra ~ Are there any of the characters in your stories that resemble anyone in your family?

Lynsay ~ OK, the Willan sisters are based very loosely on my sisters. Remember that cottage scene in The Rogue Hunter when Jo was chasing after Alex as she was mowing the lawn attempting to scare away the deer flies swarming her? Yah . . . that really happened with my younger sister chasing around and beating off flies for my older sister who was handling the lawn mower. LOL
But there are loads of instances like that and even characters either named after or carrying the traits of friends or family I have. Marguerite is named after my mother and carries some of her traits. Then there is Leigh, Justin Bricker, DJ, etc. Readers have encountered many of my family and friends in the stories in one way or another. They do say write what you know. (grin)

Terra ~ Why pick Canada as a base for the Argeneau clan? Also, you seem to have the major companies they work at in big cities, any particular reasoning for this?

Lynsay ~ Well I am Canadian and knew Toronto. I prefer to base stories places I have been so I know what I'm talking about and don't make huge mistakes about cities I've never visited. Besides this is just one immortal family out of many.
As for the major companies working in big cities, that’s just necessary. Most major companies have their head office in major cities. I assume this is for a few reasons; the demand for their product is larger there; there’s a larger employment pool to choose from; and they have to have a solid corporate image not only to ensure public confidence but to ensure corporate confidence as well especially with companies they have to work with, make deals with, etc.

Terra ~ When you think of the Argeneau’s, how close do you feel they are in comparison to your real family? Do you only think of them as a fairy tale family or are they a bit more real in your world since you deal with them on such a constant basis?

Lynsay ~ Well, many characters are loosely based on family and friends of mine so I expect that they would be a bit more real to me than usual and I do love my real family very much. That being said, my characters are like my kids. I care about what happens to them, I don’t like to see them hurt or in harms way. They aren’t perfect so they do make mistakes but they usually learn from those mistakes and in general they are good people . . . kinda like my real family. Gees, guess they're definitely a bit more real to me . . . LOL

Terra ~ Can you give us a glimpse into the future of what possible storylines you might be thinking of and why do these storylines seem to attract you?

Lynsay ~ Well, Born To Bite (Armand’s story) is based in a small town on a farm and involves the mystery of his wives’ deaths. It also answers some questions that were left from Nicholas’s story but couldn’t be revealed then.
Hungry For You is Alex Willan's story, the last of the Willan sisters.
Other than that, I have had a few ideas but cannot promise anything. I may do Christian's story, I'm hoping to if he cooperates. I may also revisit Port Henry sometime in the future . . . And I really think Jeanne Louise does deserve a life mate. . . But who cooperates and tells me their story is the one who gets written about.

Terra ~ With the amount of books that you write how do you find time for yourself in any given day? Has anyone in your family ever compared you to the Energizer bunny cause you seem to just keep going and going?

Lynsay ~ LOL . . . I guess I have been pretty prolific at times but it is weird to hear someone say it. I think it’s because I can write a book within a month. The reason for that is when I write, I do it 24/7 and everything else in my life goes on hold, no matter what it is. It’s just my process. Believe me, this is not always a good thing. Just ask my friends and family when I don’t see them for months on end! So I write around the clock for a month or two if deadlines are back to back like the next two and then spend two or three months doing promotional stuff, and business stuff and answering reader's letters while trying to catch up on everything I neglected while writing.

Terra ~ When you write an anthology do you get any say in who the other authors are that will be in the same book with you or does the publisher have full rights to pair you with whomever they choose? Also, so you get to see the ideas the other authors have before you write your story or is it just write a story along certain guidelines and hope that none of you clash with each other?

Lynsay ~ Oh . . . the publisher has full control over that. I often think that people believe writers have more control over aspects of their books than they really do. The publisher chooses the title, the cover, the blurb on the back and for newbie writers even change content of their story. I can voice my opinion but ultimately the decision is the publisher’s and unless the stories are entwined or connected somehow I won't see their story. Heck I didn't even know who was doing the other stories in Bitten by Cupid and still haven't read them . . . though I got my copies a couple days ago so will now.

Terra ~ If someone asked you to recommend five authors that you think are promising up and coming hits whom do you think you would recommend and why?

Lynsay ~ It always amazes me that people think I have time to read. LOL. I don't read romance much. I think I'm afraid it will color my own stories. I tend to lean toward horror. Dean Koontz, John Saul, and J.F.Lewis’s Staked and Revamped. Gees, I can't even come up with five. That's so sad.

Terra ~ Did you make a New Year’s resolution or two and if so what would you consider the most important one and why?

Lynsay ~ YES I did! I have stopped procrastinating on some things that needed to be done and have started working toward being a happier, healthier self. My resolution is to take care of myself, both physically and emotionally.

Terra ~ If you could be a mouse in the house of everyone of your fans for just a moment in time, what would you wish for them for 2010?

Lynsay ~ Happiness. I wish them all happiness . . . and good health, those two things are very important.




I would have to say this is the first anthology that I have found I loved all three stories. I say kudo’s to your publisher for the great work with putting you, Pamela Palmer and Jamie Rush together. May all of you keep up the good work and I can’t wait to read more.

Thanks so much Lynsay for taking time out of your busy schedule for this interview. You are a much loved lady by so very many of us and we all wish you the best for 2010.

WOW! Thank you, that's so nice of you to say, and I wish the best to yourself and readers as well. I really do wish you all a happy and healthy year. We all deserve it!

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Giveaway Time: Go to Lynsay's excerpt by clicking on the button above and then come back and leave her a question pertaining to it. One lucky winner will be chosen to win a signed copy of "Bitten by Cupid" on Thursday January 14th.