Thursday, February 23, 2012

I confess...

Yes. I confess. I want to be Ciara. Who? My heroine of The Highlander’s Fury. Angela Blount of RT Book Reviews described her as a kick-butt, time-traversing, mind-reading embodiment of righteous indignation. Yep. That sums Ciara up perfectly. She’s the immortal daughter of Cerridwen and Brid, gathered from the mists of creation when the two goddesses not only longed for a child of their own but also needed an unstoppable weapon to purge evil from the worlds.
Wouldn’t it be great to heap some eye-for-an-eye justice on the bad guys? And Ciara metes out punishment in a way that’s near and dear to my heart. She searches the villains’ minds and locates their deepest, darkest fears –and then serves it up to them on a silver platter. I must say that visiting with my friend Ciara was quite liberating…even if it did leave me a bit envious of her powers.  ;-)

An average day in the life of an immortal Fury?

Flex powers. Locate evil. Administer justice.

Until Ciara’s goddess mothers convince her to seduce a brooding mortal and bear the man a gifted child. All she has to do is swap places with his betrothed. A simple task−become the seductive wife, bear the man a child and train the young one in the Ways. Once the boy reaches seven years of age, they’ll swap her back with the wife Faolan thinks he selected and Ciara can resume her job of rousting wickedness from the world.

Faolan MacKay’s advisors plague him daily about his matrimonial duties as laird, dragging prospects from across the Highlands: plump dowries attached to each one.

Faolan’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He’d rather go straight to the fiery pits of Hell than down the wedding aisle. Out of desperation, a plan takes seed. He’ll select a wife he can ignore. There’s just one problem with this foolproof theory. Nobody ignores Ciara.

Against his better judgment, he’s enthralled with the woman and to Ciara’s surprise, this strange thing called love burns hotter than her hunger for vengeance.
At the end of the seven years the ruse is up, all will return to as it was. Can the bond of love overcome the mandate of the ultimate powers?


Ciara recoiled from the CEO’s mind as though she’d just touched a piece of rotted flesh. This mortal sickened her. He was just as evil as a serial killer. He’d made his execution even easier. It was time she made her presence known.
She materialized in the doorway, still leaning against the frame, drumming her fingertips atop her folded arms. “The levels of greed to which you humans rise never cease to amaze me.”
Startled, the man jerked, his eyes squeezing closed as though she’d struck him. Choking on the mouthful of coffee he’d just gulped, he spewed a shower of the amber liquid as he threw the cup across the room. “Who the hell are you?” he sputtered and coughed. “How did you get in here?”
Ciara slipped out of the doorway and sauntered into the room. She adored the sound of fear in her victim’s voice. It played sweeter than the softest aria to her ears. Shrugging her long braid over one shoulder, she smoothed a hand down her hip as she purred, “I am known by many names. But for the purpose of our little meeting, why don’t you just call me ‘Vengeance’?”
With a shaking hand, he fumbled at the receiver of the phone. The man’s face whitened when he held it to his ear.
“What’s wrong, baby? No dial tone?” Ciara stretched across the desk, plucked the receiver out of his hand, and swung it like a pendulum in front of his face. Oh, she loved it when their eyes rolled back in their heads and their faces paled to that lovely shade of pasty gray.
He ripped his cell phone out of his pocket; his eyes widened as the words No Service lit up across the readout on the cover.
Yanking open the side drawer on his desk, he glanced first at Ciara then looked down. He withdrew a pistol with a shaking hand and pointed it at Ciara’s chest. “You take one more step and they’ll write any name you want on a toe tag for the morgue.”
Oh, this one played the cat-and-mouse game better than the time she tortured the serial rapist. Ciara smiled her most wicked smile. She loved it when they got cocky! Tossing her head back, she spread her arms wide. She released her best chilling laughter to echo off the wall to wall windows as she gave a teasing wiggle of her hips. “Take your best shot, baby. Do you think you can hit me from here or do you need me to take a few steps closer?”
Beads of sweat popped across the man’s face then rolled down his heavy jowls as he shook the muzzle of the gun in her face. “Don’t think I won’t kill you. I own the mayor of this city and every cop in the surrounding precincts. With my money, I don’t have to worry about prison. I can do anything I want.”
With a bored roll of her eyes, Ciara leaned forward, resting her hands on his desk. Wriggling her nose, she brought her face so close she almost touched the tip of her nose to his and crooned, “Go ahead, sweetheart. Do whatever you like. After all, you should get the most out of your last few moments on earth. Consider it your last wish before your execution. Kind of like having your last meal before you fry.”
The man jerked as though trapped in an uncontrollable seizure. He emptied the chamber of the gun. As he fired the last round, his jaw fell to his chest and he let the pistol crash to the floor.
Ciara waited, tapping her red, manicured nails atop the computer monitor. With a bored yawn, she stretched and smoothed the dents from the bullets out of her shirt then bestowed a wicked smile upon him. “Okay. My turn! Now let’s figure out the best way to punish you for all your naughty little deeds. Where shall we start this evening? There’s so many fun things to choose from.”

Wouldn’t it be great to be Ciara? What super power do you think YOU’D like best?

Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Spirit Dance

Yes. I know science explained this phenomena long ago but I prefer to think of them as spirits dancing across the sky. A friend emailed these photographs to me. She knows my love of nature and animals. I couldn't wait to share them you. I hope they give you the same sense of peace they gave to me.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Don't miss this chance for a FREE READ!

You heard right --FREE!! But it won't be that way forever. In fact, this great opportunity only lasts three days: Feb 14th, 15th & 16th. So, don't miss your chance to get this great story FREE! Just click on the title or the link at the end of this post and enjoy!



Someone wants Alyce Hythe dead…

Shunned from London society for being the daughter of England’s most notorious spy, Alyce Hythe desires only to clear her father’s name. For years, she has been hidden away from all prying eyes, given a new identity and told to forget who she was. But strange things have been happening causing old rumors to once more be whispered.

Long has Lord Julian Casvelyn lived with guilt brought on when his brother was murdered by England’s most infamous traitor. But one eventful night has changed everything Lord Julian believed about his brother’s death. Never did he suspect the woman he has just saved from certain harm is the daughter of that man. Now Julian is caught in midst of a conspiracy and desire for that woman.

Thrown together by fate, the two search for answers long denied them and along the way discover a love that can free them both.


     Thankful she could breathe again at least for a moment. She turned to stand by Lissa, but instead she froze upon the sight. The last person she ever expected to see this night stood in front of her.
His wide mouth curved into a vague smile which could easily turn hard she suspected. He looked quite striking, handsome and elegant in his crisp black and white evening clothes. His dark eyes darkened intensely upon her. Before she had a chance to protest, his arm gripped her elbow firmly.
“Oh, no, my dear, I think not,” his utterance carried a hard edge which startled her. “I have long tried to gain an audience with you and have been reputed one way or another. If you choose to make a scene, it will not bode well for you. You may have been hiding in the nest of the Arungdon, but I can guarantee you that legally you are still the ward of my grandfather and I…”
“Please, Lord Casvelyn, you do not have to resort to threats,” she turned her head to see if any other's attention lay upon them, but none seemed interested. Her gaze shifted back to him. “What, pray, could you have to talk to me? Charles did send his appreciation for you saving me. He assured me he had taken care of the situation and the magistrate...”
“Come. Come. Miss Rufford…or should I say Hythe. I believe there is much we could talk of.”
She glanced back over her shoulder as he edged her along beside him. “Where are you taking me? It will not be proper…”
He cut her words short. “No one will see, I can assure you. I have arranged how I can I say this a few minutes where we will not be disrupted. Then you can rush back to your lordship.”
She watched Lord Casvelyn nod to a man in front of him, a tall man tawny hair and blue eyes. The man nodded back. Immediately, she felt herself being flung into a side door, closing tightly behind her. She could only imagine why Lord Casvelyn thought it necessary to have a guard at the door.
The room was small, quaint in appearance. There was no fire lit nor candle only the moonlit shone in light. He gestured to her to sit upon a settee. She hesitated, but then complied. To her dismay he sat beside her.
She found it difficult to catch a breath with him so near. He stared at her in a manner which made her remember all too well being in his arms with his lips upon hers.
“Now will you please explain yourself so I can rejoin Charles.”
“Ah, yes, the love of your life. I have heard. Unfortunately, I tend to doubt your proclamation of feelings.”
She stared at him and he returned it. He sat close to her, too close. She scooted back but he moved, allowing only her a scant space between her and this man who made her skin shiver with just his touch. “How dare you,” she uttered under her breath. “You don’t know me. Charles and I love each other greatly…”
“Do you?” he asked in a low voice. “Are you in the habit of sharing kisses with another while in the deep throbs of love for another? Come. Do not think I have forgotten having you in my arms. Kissing you, touching you...if not interrupted, perhaps it would have lead to more than...”
She slapped him, hard, and attempted to rise. He thwarted her with his two strong hands, pulling her down to him.
“You are no gentleman!”
“Perhaps,” he answered her, but his voice softened. “Perhaps.”
His hands released her back to her seat. What did he do to her that made her act as if she had not a reasonable thought in her head?
"Tell me, Miss Hythe, what are you up to? What plan do you have? Don’t think your friend, Lord Tregilgas can save you. If I so desire, I can have you escorted out under my care.”
“You make no sense, Lord Casvelyn. You come to me with demands that I return with you. Why should I? True, Colonel Tolworthy is my guardian, but in truth I barely know him. I have been on my own for a great deal of time of my life. Why should I be a burden to him now? It is only a few months more than I will not be.”
“Listen to me carefully, my dear. I had no knowledge that you still resided within England until three weeks ago. In all I find the whole of the situation unacceptable. I’m trying to rectify this. Believe me. I believe you are in danger.”
“Then do not worry about me. Charles has seen to my safety. You may question me, but I trust Charles. He would never allow harm to befall me as I would never allow harm to him.”
“Answer me this. Do you know no matter if you hold your father is innocent, the world does not? No matter if your young Marques holds to you, you are walking into social damnation, fair or unfair. It will not be pleasant. How long do you think it will take for someone to figure out who you are? I would wager it will not be long. And then there is the matter of the threat upon your life?”
“You are mistaken that I am trying to run from my name. I am not. Since my father’s death, I have faced his disgrace. No one thought it necessary to inform me how my father died until I was seventeen. All I knew was that he was dead. Not until Charles told me. He has been my only true friend, my Lord. I have only once visited my father’s grave and it was only through Charles I did so. Do you know what it is like to see your father’s grave ostracized from holy ground for they deem he committed suicide?”
“I know lost. I feel it every day. I dealt with my brother’s death knowing that the fiend that killed him also lay in the ground. But with your words you uttered to me, I find myself questioning all about my brother’s death. And with those words, I questioned the wisdom in allowing you this Season.”
As he spoke, he astonished her with his movement, transforming her back to that night, that room, that embrace. He moved closer, so close it seemed she could no longer claim air between them. His arms encircled her and pulled her face upward toward his. His touch startled her. She looked at him in surprise. She saw his intent, yet made no resistance. Wanting to protest, her body rebelled against the thought.
A gasp escaped her lips as he lowered his head to hers. His lips moved against hers, firm yet yielding. She melted into the sensation his kiss inflicted, the thrilling excitement and warmth flowing through her body. Her mind told her to resist though her body paid no attention to the warning. Instead, she responded to him. Gently he prodded her lips with his tongue to part. Slowly as if giving her time to get used to the idea, he slipped his tongue inside.
Within her a voice called to her to be sensible. He was dallying with her, no more, no less to prove his point. Yet, she ignored the voice choosing instead to surrender to the want within her and parted her lips fully to admit him. An intimacy flowed within her, so wonderful, awakening parts of her body she didn’t know were alive.
His arms tightened around her as pleasure cascaded through out her body. His kiss lingered. He didn’t stop with one. He kissed her again and again, astonishing her and evoking shivers that flowed down her body. A series of pleasurable sensations left her crying for more. He kissed her again, more aggressive, more demanding. Within her she had long lost any rational thought for he had her mesmerized.
She felt his hand move up and down her back. Her skin felt hot with his touch. His hand moved upward until it cupped her nape, caressing her. She could not believe what his meandering touch did to her. His lips descended down her chin to her neck. A cry escaped her when his lips found a sensitive spot which sent vibrations cascading through out her. Sensations she had never known yet desired. She had never been held in this way by anyone. Never had she felt so alive.
The next moment he held her head in his hands as if she was his captive. He ravished her mouth. Shock tensed through her. She could feel the need within him for her submit. Then as if reason took hold, he drew back. His eyes never left her widen eyes. He reached over and in a slow gentle motion caressed her face.
“Tell me now of this undying love you have for another,” he said demanding an answer from her.

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