I really working on two different stories right now. One of them I've written before, and I'm just going through to clean it up before publishing it, so I'll probably finish this one before I will finish my time-travel, "Love Lost in Time". So here is a little unedited excerpt from my Victorian Romance, "Worth Fighting For" - the wonderful cover by Sheri McGathy.
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Phoebe Alphius, daughter of the governor of Turkey, was told at the tender age of ten that she was the goddess Artemis, reincarnated. In her mind, just because she has the silver-blonde hair of the goddess, and she has the bold personality, hunts and fights better than any of her brothers, doesn’t mean she is Artemis. All of her life people have treated her differently, and she’s tired of it. She wants a normal life. She wants to find love. But just as Artemis, she’s going to die without ever having loved a man. There’s only once choice to make…she must leave Turkey and pretend she’s someone else. Now all she has to do is find a way out.
Captain Barry Winston just received word that his father is
dying—which means Barry will become Duke of Lockhart. His trip to Turkey will
be his last and he will give up the trading business for good. Sailing back to
England, he realizes he has a stowaway. Her beauty is breathtaking, and she
makes him laugh more than he’s done before. Yet she is just a servant, so he
cannot possibly fall in love with her and take her as his wife. His heart has
different plans because forgetting about her would be impossible. Has he
finally found the woman worth fighting for?
*Snippet*
Turkey, 1870
Thieves came in many different forms.
Captain Barrington Winston stepped to the side of
the tent and folded his arms, his gaze zeroing in on the pretty little thief
not far from him in the marketplace. In his line of work, he knew the lovely thieves
were the most dangerous. The girl was slim, and dressed in the plain brown rags
the ruffians wore in Selcuk. Her face held a look of innocence as she watched
his shop.
Chuckling to himself, he shook his head. Out of all
the thieves he had run across in the five years he’d been in the trading
business, not one of them could pull off the innocent act—but this one
certainly appeared as if she was wet behind the ears and didn’t know what she
was doing. Perhaps that is why she’d caught Barry’s attention so quickly.
The evening’s dim light didn’t allow him to see the color of her eyes,
but they were wide and curious as they darted from person to person standing at
his tent. Her shiny white-blonde hair, almost silver in color, spilled over her
shoulders. Strange, but she didn’t cover her hair as well as most of the women
in this foreign land. Even her face wasn’t covered, and most of the women he’d
seen covered the lower half of their faces with a veil.
She moved away from the steps of the Temple of Artemis and approached his
tent—constructed as his shop during their stay in Selcuk. Her stare was fixed
on his first mate, Jeffrey Smithers, as he explained to another buyer where
they had purchased the Oriental vases and other rugs being sold.
Barry waited for the girl to make her move, anticipating the moment she’d
try to be sneaky, yet she still acted as if she were more enthralled with his
first mate’s tale than stealing anything.
The girl stepped closer. Not more than three feet away from her was a ten-inch
golden statue of Pegasus. If she tried to steal that expensive artifact, he’d
tackle her right here in front of everyone. Slowly, he moved away from the
crates, nearing the girl just in case she slipped something of value beneath
her long skirt.
A few more buyers gathered around Jeffrey, listening to his first mate’s
extravagant storytelling. But the thief continued coming closer. Would she
indeed steal it, or was it her purpose to knock the statue over and break it?
He wouldn’t let her carry on with this innocent act any longer. His
costly statue was at stake. She was within reach, and he wouldn’t allow her to accomplish
her goal.
Barry grasped her upper arm and pulled her away from the canvas tent that
displayed his artifacts. She gasped and looked up at him. Her head veil slipped
down to her neck, displaying her glorious mane of silver-blonde hair. Her eyes
were wide, frightened. Up this close, she didn’t resemble a girl any longer,
but a beautiful young woman in her prime.
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Marie, here's a snippet from Highlander's Hope. Yvette is meeting Ewan for the first time.
~ * ~
Peeking at the nobleman from beneath her lashes, Yvette reached to straighten her bonnet. It hung askew off the side of her head, like a giant drooping peony. She shoved it back into place, but the moment she removed her hand, it flopped over once more.
The stranger's unrestrained laughter filled the carriage.
“Oh, bother it all.” Yvette’s patience with both her rescuer and the silly bonnet were at an end. She had no choice but to remove the dratted thing to reaffix it. Several strands of hair tumbled to her shoulders when she removed the cap from her head. Suppressing a shriek of annoyance, she placed the hat beside her. She then set about securing the wayward curls. Pinning the last strand in place, her eyes met those of her companion.
She stilled, as did the world around her. The air hung suspended in her lungs. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her stunned gaze riveted on his face. “You exist?” Her voice was husky with awe.
Raising an ebony eyebrow, a flicker of humor softened the nobleman’s features. “So it would appear.”
A voice, deep and dark, caressed Yvette’s heightened senses. She stared. Her gaze roved across his handsome features returning, as if compelled by some unseen force, to his eyes.
Those eyes. Fringed by thick lashes, the mesmerizing turquoise pools gazing back at her sent her senses reeling in recognition. Her mouth dropped open.
No, it couldn’t be.
“Am I dreaming?” Giving a quick shake of her head, she lowered her eyelids for a moment. Lud, but she was befuddled. "Who are you?"
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Thank you, Marie. This is a work in progress from my Hole in the Sky novel (Sheri L. McGathy – author)
"Where did that come from?" Shawn took a step closer, his hand propped on his brow. "The dang thing is spinning like a cyclone, but it's acting all wrong. Whoa." He grabbed for Sandy's arm as the suction from the vortex threatened to lift him off the ground. Once free of its pull, he pointed skyward and shouted, "Jeepers, would you look at that? It's digging a tunnel into the sky!"
Fear held Sandy immobile as the thickening cloud ceased its spinning and folded in upon itself before stretching outward to form what could only be described as a gaping hole hanging in midair directly above them. It was very dark, nearly black, deep, yet small, hardly the circumference of a tractor tire. Lightning played along its edges, each rippling bolt releasing a strange rumbling from its core.
Before Sandy could utter a word, the dark mass spit out a shower of dried peas to rain down on Shawn's head and shoulders.
"Ow, ow, ow." Shawn hopped from one foot to the other as he pulled his jacket over his head and ran for the cover of one of the apple trees. The downpour followed him, the tiny peas playing a loud rat-a-tat-tat on the tree bark as they sought Shawn out.
"Jeepers," Sandy whispered. He turned to Katie. "Your wish came true."
"Double jeepers," Katie whispered back, her eyes wide. "It really did have wings."
Sandy nodded, but like Katie, kept his gaze locked to the shower of dried peas raining on Shawn alone.
While Sandy struggled to make sense of it all, the shower ended, leaving behind a strange quiet to hang over the orchard like a protective shield. Neither he nor Katie seemed inclined to move and break the spell holding them.
"What's the matter with you two?" Shawn demanded as he crept out from under the cover of the tree and brushed dried peas out of his hair. "Can't you see it? There's a hole in the sky." He grabbed Sandy's arm and dragged him toward the barn. "We need to get a ladder!"
lsgibed 7
From Gina - What fun! From my recent release Her Eternal Rogue when Lavinia meets Alexander -
“Here she is, Capt’n,” he announced to a figure sitting in the dark. Francois caught the silver piece tossed to him, bit the coin and left.
Lavinia jumped away from the bed. A blanket of fear wrapped around her, closing her in, smothering her. She dashed toward the door as the man stood. A hand clamped around her arm, swinging her around. Lavinia realized the steel-blue eyed man from the bar had bought her.
“Lavinia Sinclair?” he asked.
Fear stole her voice. A tall man stood before her, but it was too dark to see him clearly. All she could tell was that he had broad shoulders, and he dressed in black with black hair. Her imagination conjured the devil. A demanding demon. Her eyes fixed on his, which glowed, even in the darkness, and his voice dripped like poison. She trembled.
“Answer me,” he demanded angrily.
Lavinia’s mouth went dry. She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Two bulky men suddenly appeared at her side. They were massive, their arms and chests built solid like stone. She was caged between them, with a bed behind her and their leader before her. Her stomach rolled, and she felt faint.
“Ma chère,” he stated flatly, pulling her closer. “I’d love to play with you.” His silver gaze, glowing in the dimmed room, wandered down to her breasts. She shivered. Deep inside, desire licked for his attention. “But this is not the time.” Those eerie eyes held her. He was too close.
“How long do we have, Johnny?” he queried over his shoulder, his gaze never leaving hers.
The boy behind him came closer, revealing himself as the boy who’d talked to Jean Baptiste.
“Capt’n, maybe minutes. Prob’lay not much more.”
“Sir, takin’ from the Frenchie, is nae guid,” a man on the other side of the room muttered.
The captain gave a sharp laugh. “Then we’ve gotta get out of here,” he said with a lopsided grin. Like his eyes, the glimpse at his white teeth seemed unusual because they too shined in the darkness, and she frowned at the oddity, despite the situation “Jean Baptiste will want my neck.”
“Aye, aye, Capt’n,” came the reply as the window squeaked opened.
Where was he taking her? Her fear escalated. She struggled against his grip, trying to stay put as he dragged her to the window.
“We really don’t have time for this, milady.”
He snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. When she opened her mouth to scream, he covered it with his own. The sudden crush of his lips shocked her into submission. His chest and abdomen pressed against her, and his mouth engulfed hers. Once he touched her, his actions turned soft and gentle as he caressed her lips with his. He traced her lips with his tongue, gently probing for access.
Surprised by his intimate kiss, she abandoned her inhibitions, and he invaded her mouth, seductively teasing her tongue with his.
Suddenly, he stopped and pulled his head back. He looked into her eyes, surprised.
The pounding at the door snapped them back to the moment.
“Capt’n! We’ve got tae go!” the Scotsman pushed.
The devil holding her grinned wickedly and spun toward the open window, he lifted her easily under his arm. She gasped as his iron grip around her middle, and had no time to think as he leaped over the sill and down to the roof’s edge within seconds. Frantic that he would lose his grip, plunging her to her death, she sucked in air to scream. She opened her mouth but he clamped his hand over her lips, stifling her.
“Not a sound.”
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Hi Marie! thanks for the opportunity! This is for my current WIP, entitled "The Marquess of Secrets
Hunter shot his friend a dark look. He was not pleased to see Dex’s eyes alight with knowing laughter. “Where have you been?” He deftly changed the subject as his eyes raked over his friend’s somewhat disheveled appearance. “I saw you and the lovely Lady Susana leaving the floor together.”
Dex straightened his waistcoat and jacket and smirked. “A gentleman never tells, old chap. I did have the strangest feeling that we were being watched however. Nothing that I saw, but still.” He shrugged carelessly, his lips curving in a gleaming smile that faded upon the sight of a group of debutantes walking by, sighing and fluttering their fans in his direction. He groaned. “God save me from virginal chits and their dreams of marriage.”
The orchestra played the sprightly tune as the dancers continued their stepping and twirling. Amanda stood out on the dance floor, her shining hair and pale dress drawing the golden candlelight, creating a halo affect around her. She looked fresh, lovely and much too good for Bensen.
Ash stood next to Dex and nudged him. “Some of us don’t mind the virginal chits, right? The two broke out into laughter.
Hunter looked at his two best friends, contemplating how he could murder them without anyone noticing.
I’m surrounded by people who know me too well, damn it.
He muttered a vicious curse at them and forced himself to speak civilly, rather than pounding their smirking faces. “It’s not that, you damn fools. It’s just Benson. I’m telling you there’s something not right with him.” His eyes followed the couple on the floor, but he could see nothing untoward in the viscount’s behavior towards his partner.
“I think the only thing not right with him is he is dancing with a woman you refuse to admit you want.” Dex spoke softly. “It’s been seven years since you allowed yourself to think seriously on another woman, my friend. Surely you don’t still care.”
Hunter despised being the object of gossip and pity. He tried to sound nonchalant, but even to his own ears, he failed miserably. “Since when did you become the philosopher king of the Haute Ton, Dexter? I stopped caring years ago. My only regret from that whole sordid episode was the loss of my brother. I have searched for him both in England and on the continent, yet nothing.” Uncharacteristic emotion made him choke, but he coughed to cover it up. “I refuse to believe I will never see him again.”
What great excerpts. Here is mine from The Temptation of Lady Serena, book #3 of the Marriage Game, releasing on November 4th.
1814, Scottish Border Region
The Earl of Weir scowled. “Damn it, Serena, you can’t back out now. Not after the plans have been made. If you don’t go to London who will you marry? What do you have left here?”
Lady Serena Weir stared out the solar’s window, studying the bleak late February landscape. Snow covered the ground, more gray than white; the trees lifeless and black against the gloom. She glanced over her shoulder at her brother, James. “I could marry Cameron.”
“Do you even care for him more than moderately?”
“No, but he needs to marry, and he likes me.” She turned back to the window. Snow still covered the hills. In another month they’d be the feeding ground for the castle’s sheep and cattle. But if Mattie, her new sister-in-law, had
her way, Serena would not be there to see it.
James snorted with derision. “Cameron likes your dowry. Mattie has made all the plans. She assures me you’ll have a wonderful time.”
Serena pressed her lips tightly together. The plans, he’d said, as if they had taken on a life. The plans for her to go to London for her first Season at six and twenty years of age. A little old to be making a come out. The plans meant she would leave her home. The place she had been born and raised and never before left. Tears pricked her eyelids. She would not cry. Not in front of James. If a London Season was such a good idea, why hadn’t he sold out of the army after their father died, when she was still young? Instead, he’d left her here to manage the estate while he remained on Wellington’s staff.
James returned shortly before Christmas, with his bride, Madeleine—Mattie, as she liked to be called—and Serena’s ordered life was thrown into turmoil. She no longer knew what her future held.
I love this idea and I love time travel romance. Here is a snippet from MY RELUCTANT HIGHLANDER, a Scottish time travel set in both present-day New England and 16th century Scotland.
When Jake paused, Skye raised her gaze to his. He was staring at her with a hungry look. She flattened her back against Dara.
“What?” he growled.
“The look on yer face…’tis disconcerting to someone familiar with your true nature. Yer eyes are feastin’ upon me, as if I were yer next meal.”
Suddenly in his arms, she shuddered with unease. Before her power rose to protect her, his palms slid down her arms, then cupped her hands in his.
“I don’t want you to use your magic on me again, so keep still.”
He had not raised his voice, but the message was clear; perfectly clear, until he lowered his mouth to hers. Skye’s first reaction was to protest yet he had pinned her with no way free.
Her animal’s warm hide steadied her back, and the pungent scent of dead leaves, moss covered tree trunks, and Jake, filled her nose.
With their hands clasped together, tingles rose up her arms, along her neck, and ended where their lips met. For a man who worked hard with hot iron, his lips were soft and moist. When the tip of his tongue forced its way into her mouth, she yielded to the pleasure. A soft murmuring surprised her.
‘Tis me?
Thanks for sharing and reading mine.
Nancy Lee Badger
http://nancyleebadger.blogspot.com
Cool!
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