Hey hey hey!!! I’m one of the featured authors today on NNLights Book Heaven Bookathon. Stop by and leave me a little love! There’s a rafflecopter and you all know I love me a good chance to win sumthin!!!
Rafflecopter link: giveaway
Hey hey hey!!! I’m one of the featured authors today on NNLights Book Heaven Bookathon. Stop by and leave me a little love! There’s a rafflecopter and you all know I love me a good chance to win sumthin!!!
Rafflecopter link: giveaway
For the entire month of July, NNLightsBookHaven is sponsoring a Christmas In July Fete featuring dozens of romance authors and a grand prize of a $100 Amazon ( US) gift card as a rafflecopter. Here’s the link for the contest: RAFFLECOPTER
I’ll be featured on July 17, so make sure you check back at The Christmas in July Fete that day to see what I’m promoting for the (summer!) holiday season!
And when I’m not out celebrating the holiday season waaaaaaay early ( hee hee) you can find me here:
Alexis Le Blanc enjoys her simple life in Crystal Cove, Maine. After taking a chance on romance and getting rejected, she has given up on love. Now she devotes all her time to running her family’s winery, Coastal Vines. She wants to keep it small and traditional, but her parents have other ideas—hence why they hire some big-shot marketing executive from Napa Valley to rev up business.
When Benito Martelli shows up in her family’s tasting room, she’s more than stunned to discover he’s the man who wined and dined her the night before. Alexis is beyond peeved at his deception in trying to get into her good graces for the sake of making money on her winery. At first, she wants nothing to do with him or his big business ideas, but she’s pleasantly surprised when they come to a compromise, and even more surprised when she gives in to the sparks between them.
Unfortunately, things don’t go quite as planned and Alexis is faced with complications she never could have predicted. Promises and secrets unravel, and she must decide if love and wine are as well paired as she hoped.
Marianne Rice writes contemporary romantic fiction set in small New England towns. She loves high heels, reading romance, scarfing down dark chocolate, gulping wine, and Chris Hemsworth. Oh, and her husband and three children. You can follow her all over social media, and keep up to tabs with her latest releases on her website: www.mariannerice.com
You can connect with Marianne here:
Today, I’ve got an interview with a new writer to me, but she’s a Wild Rose Press sistah, so I know she’s fab! Please give a warm welcome to author Alyna Lochlan as she tells us a little about herself and then gives you a peek at her newest release – today! -of DRAGON LAIRD.
Alyna, The Writer
I love to read and have built stories sense I was a little girl. I wrote my first story in kindergarten with a friend illustrating it.
I have always loved fantasy and paranormal. The magic and adventures with unseen twists and turns then add in a sexy vampire or a dragon and sorcerer is awesome. Past or future it works for me.
I read the same genre I write. I am hooked on fantasy and paranormal. I also love to read historicals as well.
Yes I try to. I schedule to write one thousand words a day and have twenty-eight books in the works with four series. J
Normally I write in my office. I sit at a large wrap around desk with two computers and three monitors. I have music and candles going and shelves with dragons on them. Many of the dragon statues have come from fans. I love them. I display everything fans send me in my office. I will also write on the back porch in sunny weather, and if it’s late I will sometimes take pen and paper to bed with me and write there. I always have a pen and pad by my bed so if an idea pops up I can write it down.
I can get distracted easily. I have to turn off my phone and I use earphones with music to loose myself in the story. I love to burn candles as well.
Yes this is an important part of my writing. The music I listen to goes with what I am writing. Hard fast rock with battle scenes and music with a strong beat goes with sex scenes. Music for me is inspiring.
Funny that normally the characters come to me and start bombarding me with their stories or I will dream an idea and have to write it down. I even get ideas in the shower and that sucks because I have to wait until I get out to write it down.
The character comes to me and shows me a scene of their lives and then hounds me to get it down on paper. I have a DVR movie that runs through my head so I can see, hear, smell, and taste everything the character shows me. And if I don’t get it down on paper it’s like the movie got stuck on repeat and plays over and over like the movie groundhog day.
Passionate, dedicated, imaginative.
Alyna, The Person:
I have a graphic design business and love to can and preserve food.
2. Who was your first love and what age were you?
His name was John and I was 14
3. If you could relive one day, which one would it be? Think GROUNDHOG DAY, the movie for this one – you’ll have to live it over and over and….
The birth of my daughters would be right up there. Loved every minute of it.
4. Do you like a guy in boxers, briefs, or commando?
Oh baby commando is sooooooo hot. Love that idea.
5. If you had to give up one necessary-can’t-live-without-it beauty item, what would it be?
This is hard. I have to have my mascara. I hate to go out without mascara. LOL
6. What three words describes you, the person?
Creative, busy, loving
7. If you could sing a song with Jimmy Fallon, what would it be?
LOL it would have to be, Whip my hair.
8. If you could hang out with any literary character from any book penned at any time line, who would it be, why, and what would you do together?
I have a bad boy vampire named Blade I am writing now that I so love, and honey I would do anything he would let me do with him. LOL
I love the Actor’s Studio show on Bravo, so this is my version of it:
Wow do I have to choice only one? I can’t do that. I love Two steps for Hell, Sickicks, Chainsmokers, Sucide sheep or only a few. Music to me is like breathing.
I don’t do rap. I just can’t get into that.
Barbra Streisand – Somewhere. Love this song. Inspires dreamers to make a world where everyone is accepted just the way they are. J
I don’t listen or remember songs I don’t like.
Actor: I think Jason Momoa is soooo hot he is Blade in my new book Tame the Blade coming out in 2018.
Actress: I have always like Angelina Jolie. After her movie tomb rader I was a big fan.
LOL you didn’t offer anyone that is fictional. If it was fictional I would be Laura Croft. But if I had to pick someone in real life, I would say myself. I like the person I am. Wink.
I really love a confident guy. A man who’s not afraid to tell me what he wants or his likes. A man that knows who he is and can be in touch with how he feels and his needs.
I don’t care for winy people at are negative about everything and feel they need to point out everything that can or will go wrong. Yes shit happens so what. Life is an adventure. Live it to the fullest. J
LOL “Are you paying for mine?”
Sunny in the 70’s, sun sinking over a mountain range. You on the over hanging porch in a large cushioned lounge, cuddling with your favorite man, drinking your favorite beverage. Music playing and a log fire burning in the fire-pit close by, and the man can’t keep his hands off you.
Blurb for Dragon Laird:
Enchanted as a child, Rhiannon grows up hidden, safe from a destiny that could be disastrous to her world. But when an evil sorcerer, seeking to destroy the Power of Two, opens the veiled gate that holds the dragons underground, Rhiannon must emerge. She must find the warrior marked with the dragon’s flame, for only he can defeat the evil devouring the land.
Laird Dylan is a shadow in his own keep. Branded at birth with a dragon’s head mark, he is shackled to a cursed life. Now dragons lay waste to his land. But his duty to stop them is derailed when he meets a woman who is unafraid of his shadowed past—a woman he could love.
In the midst of evil, Dylan and Rhiannon find a love more powerful than dragons and sorcerers. But will it be lost to save the world they know?
When Laird Dylan’s gaze touched hers, the breath left her body. It was as if her soul somehow connected with his. He was the very image of the warrior from her dreams, but could they be one and the same? Could this be the man Dela had spoken of, the enemy who would be hers? She wondered how he would affect her life, this man from her vision. She placed a hand over the moonstone lying under her shirt and felt its cool surface. There was not evil within the walls of this castle. She couldn’t look away from him, but he broke the gaze first, as he continued his inspection of the prisoners. A guard to her right yelled, startling her from her thoughts. “Kneel ’afore the Laird Dylan MacGregor.”
Rhiannon watched the members of her clan kneel one by one. Some of the men were bleeding, and most of them were muddy and defeated. A new shaking took over as anger filled her.
Her thoughts turned to the women without husbands, children without fathers, and sisters far from their brothers. When all knelt but her, she knew she would not and stiffened her spine. She would endure this humiliation. She stood up for all that died that day.
The guard advanced, pulling his sword free. “Kneel or I shall cut you down where you stand.”
Never taking her gaze from the Laird, she spoke clearly, “My knees are stiff from the mud and blood. They will not bend.”
She knew they saw through her lie from the expressions of surprise, open irritation, and even apprehension. The warrior sneered and moved to strike her.
There was a stirring among the people kneeling on either side of her. The spirit was returning to them and though unarmed they would protect her.
The MacGregor’s eyes narrowed. Their dangerous sparkle pierced her soul. She knew he saw the peril of more bloodshed and barked a command before the blade met her flesh.
The guard stayed his hand and turned toward his laird. The blue fire in the MacGregor’s eyes severed her failing courage, yet she could not find the strength to bend her knees.
“Lad, speak truth, why do you not kneel, knowing you will be struck down if you do not?” The laird asked.
Before she could hold her tongue, words bubbled forth. “The MacKays have been humbled enough. We have lost this day’s fight and have yet to bury our dead. We concede to your victory for battle is honorable. But we will not toss our already wounded pride and honor upon the floor to be trampled.”
A few gasps echoed in the hall from those standing about, followed by a deathly quiet. Even the hounds that sat around the Laird’s feet raised their heads from their bowls.
All waited to see what Dylan MacGregor would do. He held her gaze for a long time, making her uncomfortable. Again, she felt him piercing through her disguise to touch her very soul. He wanted something from her. What, she didn’t know.
“You speak well, lad. You have courage to speak truth. For this, we will leave you your honor.”
He turned to the Highlander who had commanded them to kneel. “Put a task to each man, then find them a warm place to lay their heads and someone to bind their wounds. They may start work on the morrow. The lad will serve me.”
She gasped and curled her toes in worry, but gave no other outward sign of her terror. Had he guessed she was a lass and not a lad? Would he take her maidenhead before the night was through? It was his right as victor. The laird still had his dark gaze locked on her, and she had no wish to give her fears away. She had a part to play.
As each MacKay passed, they slapped her on the shoulders to show their pride. Several slaps almost sent her to the floor, but she accepted each with pleasure.
The MacGregor went about filling his trencher, but she knew he missed none of the exchange. Then, with all her kinsmen gone, she stood alone.
Dylan MacGregor’s handsome face and body moved with a predator’s grace. The hair that hung around his shoulders shone like black onyx in the candlelight. His clean-shaven chin a strong compliment. Deep blue eyes, the color of the sea were set with thick black brows. The muscles in his arms twisted and bunched as he used his blade to cut through a piece of meat. His straight white teeth tore into the flesh, causing the meat’s juice to run down his fingers. The smell of roasted chicken made Rhiannon’s stomach gurgle. She hadn’t eaten since the night before.
Leaning over the table, The MacGregor motioned for a man to come to him, then spoke in low tones. The man nodded.
She was having trouble separating The MacGregor from the man in her dream. Dela told her she was to join with her enemy or great evil would befall them all. Being a maid, she had no idea how to go about finding out if he was the one. She had yet to see the mark of the dragon. There must be no doubt before she gave herself to him.
She shook her head. She was more than a little weary, yet she continued to stand and wait. A thirst pulled at her throat. Mayhap this weakness was going to her head. She noticed a large barrel with a drinking scoop near the door and turned toward the water.
She stopped and turned around to meet the laird’s angry gaze.
“You will not attempt to leave.”
“I was not leaving. I but wanted water to ease my thirst.”
“You will stand by my chair and wait upon my pleasure.”
She wanted to stomp her foot but instead clenched her hand into a fist and grinded her teeth as she went over to stand close to the table. Ignoring her, he resumed eating. Rhiannon waited a few minutes more, and when it seemed he would not give her a drink, she stepped to the table and took a cup full of liquid. She lifted the cup to her lips.
The scrape of a chair was her only warning before a strong hand grabbed her wrist, making her spill some of the liquid down her arm. He took the cup from her hand and put it back on the table.
“What are you doing? I thirst,” Rhiannon snapped. Would he starve her, too?
“You will not take anything but what I give you. You are a prisoner now and subject to my demands. If you thirst, ’tis I you will ask for drink, and if you hunger, you will wait ’til I give you food. Do you ken?”
So, he wished her to beg. Well, he would soon see she would not bow to anyone. She raised her chin.
The Laird’s brow narrowed, and he leaned close. “’Tis by my good grace that you will receive all you need. Do not defy me, lad. For I am law here.” Dylan waved his hand in dismissal of the man beside him. “You may take your leave, Orin. I wish to speak to the lad alone.” The man seated at the table nodded and left.
“Do all jump to your command?” Rhiannon asked. Geoffrey often had to hit a person before his orders were followed.
“Aye.” He answered as he reclaimed his seat. He kicked out a chair beside him. “Do you think your knees will bend enough to allow you to sit?”
Rhiannon moved over to sit in the chair. Every bone ached with tiredness. She yawned and put her hand to her mouth, then realized what she’d done. She closed her mouth and looked at The MacGregor. He watched her, and one corner of his mouth lifted, as did an eyebrow. A small smile curved his lips, and a sparkle lit his eyes.
Without comment, he handed her his mug willing to share his brew. “Drink. A lad seeing his first battle should have good Scottish whiskey. How old are you?”
“For what? For battle? For women? I think naught. You cannot even grow a beard. Here, eat, you are by far too skinny.”
Rhiannon was too hungry to take offense at his words and found the meat fresh and juicy. She had seen how her cousins treated their prisoners. No mercy was allotted them. Her clan had said Dylan MacGregor was worse, yet this seemed unfounded. “Why are you being kind?”
“Why should I not be? Have you done something to warrant punishment?”
“Being kind does not make me less of a man. My judgments are swift, but deserving. Do as I ask and you will not find life here so bad.”
Dylan sat back in his seat to watch the lad eat. There was more to this boy than met the eye. At times, he acted almost feminine. He had heard of a person being a man with a woman’s mind, but he didn’t think this was the case. The lad had courage and strength, but his hands were small and slender, his face delicate, and he moved with a gentle grace. The bare skin of those knees below the kilt was smooth and well rounded.
If indeed a female, why would she dress as a man and fight in a battle? He couldn’t understand a woman doing something so absurd and dangerous. Also, there was the strength of character and honor he had never seen in a woman. Mayhap she had followed her lover to the battle. Many women did, but that still didn’t explain the disguise. She could be a thief stealing from the dead. With winter just past, many were without and they took any means to feed their family but it was all speculation
Award-winning author of Scottish paranormal dragons and wizards and dark vampire bad boy romances, Alyna Lochlan has a love for all things mysterious and magical. It is the heartbeat of all humans to wonder what lies beyond the next turn or what dwells in the darkness. She started writing stories at a young age. She held on to her secret passion and has won various writing awards, one being Romantic Times’ Reviewers Choice Award, Book of the year.
Ms. Lochlan studied commercial art in college, developing several commercials for Channel 6 TV, as well as menus for some top restaurants in Florida. She also is a cover art designer for published books at DCAGraphics.com, but her love of the written word held fast.
Alyna has completed many novels and novellas with many others in the works. Her other published works have appeared in health magazines, newsletters, and other short story publications. She also works as an editor, helping others obtain their dreams.
You can connect with Alyna here:
MY good writing friend, Kari Lemor, has a new addition to her LOVE ON THE LINE series from Kensington/Lyrical/Underground RUNNING TARGET. It’s the second book in the series and just as hot, fast-paced and exciting as the first.
FBI agent Jack Holland broke every rule in the book falling for the girlfriend of Angelo Cabrini, son of a New Jersey mob boss. But even if Callie Lansing’s relationship to Angelo was actually a cover and her heart was free, her relationship with Jack put both of their lives at risk. Nothing, though, could make Jack regret the liaison that led to the birth of their son, Jonathan.
After Angelo discovered Callie’s pregnancy, he went after Jack and wound up dead. Now Jack is on the run with a target on his back. The only thing keeping Callie and Jonathan safe is the mob boss’s belief that the baby is his grandchild. But if Victor Cabrini discovers the truth before Jack can put him behind bars, it could mean death for his sweet covert family. . . .
An infant’s cry broke the stillness of the maternity ward as Jack crept through the hallway. He looked toward the nursery. Should he go there first or to where Callie was? The room was less risky and he needed to see her. Assure himself she was okay.
The door was ajar so he slipped through, closing it enough to allow a sliver of light to filter in. He made out the petite shape of the sleeping woman then saw the bassinet next to her. His breath left his body. The baby was here with her.
Stepping closer, he looked down on the clear container, the blue tag proclaiming this child to be a boy. Squinting in the dim light, he read the words. Mother’s name: Callina Lansing. Baby: Jonathan.
Jonathan. She’d named the baby after him. A lump clogged his throat. A son. Damn. He had a son and wouldn’t be able to get to know him, see him grow, share in his life. This fucking world was too cruel at times.
He shouldn’t take the chance but he needed to hold him. It was vital that he touch the life he and Callie had created. He wanted—no needed—to let his child know how much he loved him. The powerful emotion emanated from his heart even as he gazed down at the tiny figure. How could love grow this fast? His first glimpse was only a second ago. Now the feeling consumed him.
Reaching down, he stroked the side of his son’s face. The baby turned his head, his bow-shaped lips opening slightly. Jack’s heart beat faster. The protective instincts that had always come into play when he was around Callie, throbbed to life and expanded as he gazed at the sweet face of his son. Heat like an electric storm surged through his blood. How could he protect this child in his current situation? He’d bring more danger upon him if he hung around. Eight months of running, trying to escape the long arm of Victor Cabrini, had shown him what hell was. Now he glimpsed a small piece of heaven.
He slid his hands under the infant, lifting him from the bed to hold him close. Jonathan barely weighed anything. His heart constricted yet again. The innocent baby scent wafted into his nostrils and he blinked back the moisture filling his eyes. The reaction was primitive and territorial. This was his son.
Their child’s eyes opened but no cry erupted so Jack relaxed. It shook him to the core knowing Callie had named the baby after him. After deserting her she had every right to hate him. As much as he hated himself. Leaving her hadn’t been in his plans but the choice had been ripped away from him. It had taken a while to recover from the stabbing. Then the fuck-up by the Bureau had happened.
He stared again at the unfocused eyes of his son, his forehead touching that of the infant’s. Kissing his face, he absorbed every little facet he could. Who knew if he’d ever see him again.
Gazing at the sleeping woman, her innocent face relaxed in slumber, caused more pain to rip through his heart. Her dark hair, streaked with natural reds and golds, was a riot of curls that framed her peaceful face. Long lashes fanned over high cheekbones, highlighting the lovely structure of her eyes. His beautiful Calico Cat.
Had the pregnancy and labor been hard? She must have looked amazing, all round and filled with his child. Regret tore through him, anger warring with that emotion. Anger that his life had been stolen from him. He’d been fighting to get it back, but didn’t seem any closer now than he’d been eight months ago.
Jonathan let out a small mewing sound and Jack snuggled him close. “I’m right here, pal. I might not be around much but I wanted to let you know…I love you very much.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’m your Dad.”
He had a son. Was now a father. But he couldn’t be a father—not in the way that it mattered. He’d swore he’d be better than his dad. But this—he’d be worse. As it began to sink in, his hands shook with the enormity of the situation.
A noise from Callie drew his eyes to the bed. She shouldn’t see him. It was too dangerous. Still he wasn’t ready to give up holding his son quite yet. You might as well rip his heart from his chest and throw it on the floor.
Kari Lemor grew up as one of those kids who read all night under the covers. Once she had her first glimpse of a romance novel at age 12, it was all over. Romance was in her blood.
It would be many years before the stories that ran rampant in her head finally drove her to put words to paper, though. She wrote self-indulgently for the first few years and only recently began penning stories to share with others.
She still writes stories that are self-indulgent but hopes others might get some enjoyment from them too. Now that her children are all grown and have moved out, she uses her spare time to create stories of love and happily ever after romances where heroes ride to the rescue of damsels who have already saved themselves.
She lives with her husband in a small town in New England dreaming of warmer weather. But only if it’s near the ocean.
You can find Kari here:
The Love on the LIne Series:
and coming in December 2017