On the Radio

If you missed listening to me last night on Linda Mooney's Other Worlds of Romance, discussing Old Sins, Long Shadows--never fear!

I know you were soooo very frightened of that, weren't you?

You can simply click here to hear a re-broadcast of the program, giggles and all:

Listen to internet radio with Linda Mooney
on Blog Talk Radio

Six Sentence Sunday

Today's six sentences are from Old Sins, Long Shadows book 2 in the Children of Night series.

Regaining what he could of his control, Armand banded more tightly around Julie's body. He backed her deeper into the now-deserted doorway, using his own body to shield her from the night, from prying eyes, from any harm that might threaten her. When he came up for air, just long enough to drag one ragged breath into his lungs, she bit softly on his lip. Venom spread swiftly through his system, a warm tide of want that left him reeling with desire.


Worth the risk, he decided as he fell back into her kiss; their hearts beat rapidly in tandem and now it was his own blood he tasted on her tongue. How was it, he wondered, that his thoughts could be this hazy yet still crystal clear, or that what once seemed uncertain, should now feel so sure? Definitely worth the risk.

And please join me tomorrow night, February 27, at 11 p.m. EST on Other Worlds of Romance with Linda Mooney on BlogTalkRadio where I'll be sharing more from Old Sins, Long Shadows  and discussing the Children of Night series. Hope to see you there!

Living forever is hard. Loving forever? Damn near impossible. 


1856, New York City. Moments after Conrad Quintano drives his life-mate away, heartache and guilt descend around his heart like a pall. Convinced that Damian’s hatred is as permanent as the scars Conrad has inflicted on him, Conrad steels himself for an eternity of emotional torture.

Present day, San Francisco. For the sake of vampire twins Marc and Julie Fischer, Conrad and Damian present a united parental front. In reality, their truce is a sham. Conrad, weakened by his recent ordeal, struggles against the urge to bring his mate back to his bed. And Damian misinterprets Conrad’s explosive temper as proof their relationship is irreparably broken.

When an old enemy’s quest to create a dangerous new breed of vampire threatens the twins’ lives—and the precarious state of vampire peace—it’s imperative the estranged lovers put the past behind them. Or the shadows of the past will tear apart everything they hold dear.

Warning: This book may not be suitable for readers with an aversion to emotionally damaged vampire heroes. Caution is advised if you have experienced prior sensitivity to any of the following: costume parties, fencing lessons, interspecies, inter-generational or intra-gender dating, occasional mild violence, and/or recreational blood-drinking.

Cupid's Choice

Hello, everyone. Welcome to another fabulous blog-hop and Happy Valentine's Day! As usual, if you get lost and need to hop back on the blog-bus, just go to www.justromance.me and pick it up again. 

I've been buried in packing boxes these past few weeks thanks to the-move-that-will-not-end, so instead of writing a special short story for this hop, I thought I'd go with a Valentine's excerpt from Sound of a Voice That is Still, the book I'm giving away as part of this weekend's very cool prize package. Then I got a look at this very cool and very sexy banner. It reminded me a lot of the picture I used for the back of one of my Romance Trading Cards. 

See what I mean? Okay, I know he doesn't have wings here, but he's an angel just the same. Also, in both pics he looks like he can use a kiss. And who doesn't love a "first kiss" scene? So that decided me.  Here's a blurb and excerpt from Edge of Heaven...

Welcome to the afterlife, where men are men and the angels are fallen.

It was a reckless act of passion that ended Edge’s life and left him in Limbo -- literally. Now, he’s stuck here. While most of the other angels-in-training move quickly up the celestial ladder, Edge knows it can never be that simple for him. He’s dealing with issues that are a lot more complicated than a simple lack of closure.

While Edge doesn’t know for sure what it will take to get him into Heaven, there is one thing he’s certain won’t help -- his latest assignment guiding angel-baby Matteo Matinucci while the newbie find his wings.

But twenty-something Mattie -- sexy, beautiful, recently departed, and openly gay -- could turn out to be the answer to all of Edge’s prayers, as well as the fulfillment of all his fantasies, even the hot, sweaty, secret ones he’s never confided to anyone. And by helping to send Mattie to Heaven, Edge just might end up saving both their souls.

Excerpt:

There’s a wicked look in his eyes as he twists round to face me. It’s exactly the kind of look that makes you remember the devil’s an angel too. “Ridiculous or not, there’s something that’s been driving me nuts ever since we met.” 

Before I can come up with a response—before I even have a clue what he’s planning—damned if he doesn’t kiss me. His hand latches on to my shoulder, keeping me still when I would have drawn back. He leans in, slanting his head at the last minute, angling in just right until our lips and noses are so perfectly aligned it’s as though we’ve been doing this all our lives.

Surprise has short-circuited my reasoning. I know this to be true because before I’m even aware of it, I’m kissing him back. It’s shock; that’s all. A reflex. And maybe a little curiosity. I’ve been wondering for so long what something like this would be like. I’ve been wanting it for so long. Craving it, really. And his lips—so warm and gentle at first, so insistent an instant later—how can I resist his lips or the scratchy stubble that surrounds them, so different from anything I’ve known before? But it’s purely shock. Or mostly shock…partially…

Okay, look, the shock’s there, all right? It’s definitely somewhere in the mix; that’s all I’m gonna say.

My body seems to have switched to automatic pilot. Without any encouragement from my brain, my lips part for his tongue. My eyes are closed tight in bliss and denial. The taste and the smell and the feel of him—it’s enough to overload my senses, so sweet, so tangy and male. So good. So right.

So…fucking perfect, actually. And who could ever have predicted that would be the case?

I suck on his tongue, pulling it deeper into my mouth. I’m startled by how much I want that, how much I crave the feel of that agile muscle filling my mouth, taking possession of every inch. My hands grope blindly, searching for some way to anchor us together, clutching at his shoulder, his waist, anywhere my fingers can find a purchase.

Matteo sighs against my lips. He shifts a little—is he moving away? Is he breaking this off? I can’t be certain, but I’m taking no chances. I tug him closer, canting my head to the side to tempt him with greater access. I shudder in pleasure at the way our bodies fit together. I can’t let this end. I won’t let it end. Not yet.

Why should I, anyway? It’s just a kiss, after all. Innocent. Harmless. Nothing to get too excited about. Just a kiss and yet…my cock swells and throbs, demanding more. Demanding pressure and friction. Movement. Heat. I’m giving serious thought to the idea of tumbling backward into the sand, pulling him down with me, on top of me. My head spins with the thought of how it will feel to be pinned to the ground, helpless beneath his weight. I want that. Oh, how I want that.

I’m breathless and fevered, and suddenly, in the midst of it all, my conscience makes a belated and completely unwelcome appearance.

Oh, holy crap. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? This is a mistake. Stop it.

Right. A mistake. I knew that.

I start to pull away, only to find that—somehow—Matteo’s hand is cupping the back of my neck. How it got there, when it got there, I have no idea. His fingers are tangled up in my hair; they tense as I try to move, tightening their grip. Then his other hand joins the party, caressing my neck, my shoulder. Obviously, he intends to gentle me into staying right where I am.

You might think knowing what he’s up to would be enough to cool my blood, to clear my head, to stop my body from responding just like he wants it to, but it’s not. Not even close. I exhale on a shudder, let my tongue curl with his, and I’m lost again. This is too good, too right, too fucking sexy. I’m not going anywhere.

And you know what? I’m really kind of okay with that.

 

Join me on February 27 at 11 p.m. EST on Other Worlds of Romance with Linda Mooney on BlogTalkRadio

I'll be talking about Old Sins, Long Shadows (Children of Night, book 2). Hope to see you there!

Living forever is hard. Loving forever? Damn near impossible. 


1856, New York City. Moments after Conrad Quintano drives his life-mate away, heartache and guilt descend around his heart like a pall. Convinced that Damian’s hatred is as permanent as the scars Conrad has inflicted on him, Conrad steels himself for an eternity of emotional torture.

Present day, San Francisco. For the sake of vampire twins Marc and Julie Fischer, Conrad and Damian present a united parental front. In reality, their truce is a sham. Conrad, weakened by his recent ordeal, struggles against the urge to bring his mate back to his bed. And Damian misinterprets Conrad’s explosive temper as proof their relationship is irreparably broken.

When an old enemy’s quest to create a dangerous new breed of vampire threatens the twins’ lives—and the precarious state of vampire peace—it’s imperative the estranged lovers put the past behind them. Or the shadows of the past will tear apart everything they hold dear.

Warning: This book may not be suitable for readers with an aversion to emotionally damaged vampire heroes. Caution is advised if you have experienced prior sensitivity to any of the following: costume parties, fencing lessons, interspecies, inter-generational or intra-gender dating, occasional mild violence, and/or recreational blood-drinking.

There's a Party Going On!

Actually there's several, but here are a few that I hope you'll be interested in attending.

The first one is going on now. I'm late, actually. Big surprise, huh? It's a multi-author, live chat and it's happening at Cassandra Carr's Facebook page:  http://www.facebook.com/BooksByCassandraCarr


If it's anyone like the last one, it should be a blast. You have to like her page before you can comment . While you're at it, why not "like" my page if you haven't already done so...shameless promo? You betcha!

http://www.facebook.com/AuthorPGForte    

Next up (and something else I'm running late for) is the all day chat with Loose Id authors over at Love Romance Cafe 

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LoveRomancesCafe/

C'mon, would you disappoint that face?

Finally, at the Here Be Magic blog  http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-will-be-magic-again-here-be.html we're feeling extra generous this holiday season. 

http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-will-be-magic-again-here-be.html

Here's the scoop:

A group of us at Here Be Magic wanted to do something really special to celebrate the season of giving. From December 17th until December 24th at 8:00 p.m., commenters on this post will be automatically entered to win one of three AMAZING prizes!

So tell us, Here Be Magic readers, what is the one thing that never fails to put you in the holiday mood? It could be a food or drink, a song or movie, a tradition.

Whatever it is, we want to hear about it! Three winners will be chosen at random. The first place prize can only be offered to U.S. residents, but international readers, 2nd and 3rd place prizes are open to all,so don't be shy!

First place prize is A BRAND NEW KINDLE FIRE!  

Sponsored by Carina Press authors Christine Bell, David Bridger, Joely Sue Burkhart, Angela Campbell, Ruth A. Casie, Sharon Cullen, Seleste deLaney, Susan Edwards, PG Forte, Loribelle Hunt, Shona Husk, Jeffe Kennedy, Jane Kindred, Julia Knight, Barbara Longley, Linda Mooney, Janni Nell, Tia Nevitt, Nicole North, Cindy Spencer Pape, Jenny Schwartz, Veronica Scott, Keri Stevens, Eleri Stone, Dee Tenorio, Jody Wallace, Brenda Williamson, and Rebecca York

Second place prize is a Carina Press e-book “basket” with 26 books, including:Allegra Fairweather, Paranormal Investigator by Janni Nell, Badlands by Seleste deLaney, Cry Wolf by Angela Campbell, Dark Magic by Rebecca York, Dark Vow by Shona Husk, Demon Crossings by Eleri Stone, Golden by Joely Sue Burkhart,Heart of the Druid Laird by Barbara Longley, Her Dark Knight by Sharon Cullen,Hunting Human by Amanda Alvarez, Kiss of Darkness by Loribelle Hunt, Knight of Runes by Ruth A. Casie, Laird of Darkness by Nicole North, Quarter Square by David Bridger, Sapphire by Jeffe Kennedy, Steam & Sorcery by Cindy Spencer Pape, Stone Kissed by Keri Stevens, Tempting the Enemy by Dee Tenorio, The Devil’s Garden by Jane Kindred, The Sevenfold Spell by Tia Nevitt, The Twisted Tale of Stormy Gale by Christine Bell, The Viking’s Sacrifice by Julia Knight, This Winter Heart by PG Forte,Three Wishes by Jenny Schwartz, White Dawn by Susan Edwards

Third place prize is a $25.00 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble (winner’s choice)!

If you put your email address or Twitter handle in your comment, we can contact you, but we will also announce the winners on the blog and Tweet the winner’s names at 10:00 p.m. on December 24th (our twitter handle is @herebemagic if you want to follow along). 

The winners will have three days to collect their prizes. If we do not receive a response, another entrant with a listed email address or Twitter handle will be chosen so that we can contact them directly.

So, There you have it. Happy Holidays! 

Jingle Bell Hop!

Greetings once again, Blog Hoppers! And welcome to Day Eleven! I've based my story here on the characters in my new steampunk holiday release, This Winter Heart...

Santa Fe, The Republic of New Texacali, 1870

Eight years ago, Ophelia Leonides's husband cast her off when he discovered she was not the woman he thought she was. Now destitute after the death of her father, Ophelia is forced to turn to Dario for help raising the child she never told him about.

Dario is furious that Ophelia has returned, and refuses to believe Arthur is his son—after all, he thought his wife was barren. But to avoid gossip, he agrees to let them spend the holidays at his villa. While he cannot resist the desire he still feels for Ophelia, Dario despises himself for being hopelessly in love with a woman who can never love him back.

But Dario is wrong: Ophelia's emotions are all too human, and she was brokenhearted when he rejected her. Unsure if she can trust the man she desperately loves, she fears for her life, her freedom and her son if anyone else learns of her true nature...

Today's story  takes place eight years before the events in This Winter Heart, during the early (and happier) days of Dario and Ophelia's marriage. Enjoy!  And remember, if you fall off the holiday tour bus and need to get back on, just go to www.justromance.me 

Eleven Pipes on a Winter's Night

Santa Fe, The Republic of New Texacali, 1862


Ophelia’s breath fogged up the glass as she gazed out her parlor window at the wintry landscape beyond. A light snow had begun to fall again, just enough to further obscure her view. She frowned crossly and shivered as she used her hand to wipe the pane clean once again. Despite the fire blazing in the room at her back, the cold seeped in through the thin glass and she pulled her wrap more tightly around her. She’d be warmer if she were seated by her hearth, but she was hoping to catch a glimpse of her husband returning to the house and was reluctant to leave her post.

She couldn't understand what Dario was up to. He'd seemed so anxious to get back home, to have her all to himself once more. Or so he’d said, when he insisted they cut their trip short. Yet, no more than five minutes after they’d arrived home  he’d hurried off in the direction of the stables, with an armload of blueprints he'd brought back from Pennsylvania with him, leaving her all alone to see them both unpacked. Whatever Dario was up to, out in the old barn he called his workshop, he’d been at it for hours.

Not that she had any reason to complain overmuch. She’d known when she’d married him that Dario was a man with many interests and many responsibilities. She’d never expected him to dance attendance on her every minute of the day. And, after all, this was her home now too. She should be able to find all sorts of ways to keep herself happily occupied—and for the most part, she could. It’s just that it was still the Christmas season and she was not quite ready for them to be done with their holiday yet. Tomorrow was Twelfth Night. Couldn’t they at least have prolonged their trip for the traditional Twelve Days?

She knew most gentlemen in Dario’s position would likely have insisted they not go away at all, but  spend the entire Christmas holiday in their own home. Certainly, that was what her in-laws had expected them to do. The older Leonides had made no secret of the fact that they were counting on their son and his wife to attend all the more important year-end social functions, just as they had last year. They’d  been most displeased when Dario decided they’d do otherwise.

Though she'd tried her best to hide it, her husband must have sensed how homesick Ophelia had been last year, how out-of-place and alone she’d been made to feel on that, their first Christmas as a married couple. He’d sworn to her that this year would be different and he’d kept that promise, calmly defying his family’s wishes and taking Ophelia to spend almost two weeks at her father's home in Pennsylvania. They’d visited her father and their friends, and gone to parties where she was welcomed, not shunned or stared at. Still, Ophelia couldn’t help but wish their holiday could have lasted just a few days more.

 “Come away from that window now, missus,” Ophelia’s housekeep urged as she wheeled the tea-trolley into the parlor. “You’re going to catch your death of cold standing there like that.  Why not come and sit by the fire now and have your tea.”

 “Thank you, Mrs. Harrison.” Ophelia turned reluctantly away from the window.  She gazed in regret at the homey scene before her, the greenery decorating the mantel, the piñon logs crackling cheerily in the hearth, the gleaming silver tea service she’d received as a wedding gift, the plates piled high with delicacies.  It was all so perfect and it only made her long for  Dario’s company even more. How wonderful it would be if they could both enjoy spending the holidays here.  Perhaps, if they had children they might, but almost two years had elapsed without a sign that any were forthcoming. Something Ophelia’s mother-in-law never seemed tired of mentioning each time she saw her.  “Everything looks lovely, but  I think I’d rather wait for Dario to return before I eat.” Surely, he would not be very much longer?

Mrs. Harrison frowned. “Well, I reckon Mr. Leonides can tell time as well as the next man.  But he missed his luncheon too and  if his watch hasn’t told him it’s tea-time yet, I’m sure his stomach will soon acquaint him with the fact. Either way, it’s no  reason for you to go without. Look here now,” she said, indicating  a plate of cookies. “Cook’s even included some of her special bisochitos, because she knows how much you like them. Only imagine the fuss there’d be in the kitchen  if I were to bring the tea things back in without your having  eaten them. Why, she’d be insulted, she would, and likely get to thinking you prefer the fancy food you were served back East to her own cooking.”

Ophelia was touched as always by the older woman’s concern for her. Her nose had already picked up the mouth-watering, anise-and-cinnamon fragrance of the little cookies she’d first tasted at her wedding feast and which she’d since come to associate with her new home. They were among Dario’s favorites as well, and she knew cook could be counted on to keep baking up large batches for his benefit on every holiday and special occasion, whether or not Ophelia ever ate another. Still, “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want either of you to think your efforts weren’t appreciated,” she said, smiling as she crossed to the hearth.

She’d no sooner picked up one of the cookies, however,  when the sound of the front door opening reached her ears. Footsteps approached, her gaze flew to the parlor’s open doorway. Her breath caught and her lips curved into an eager smile, just as always seemed to happen whenever Dario appeared. “You’re just in time for tea,” she said in greeting.

Rubbing his hands briskly together, Dario returned her smile. “Can it wait? There’s something I want to show you first.”

Ophelia blinked in surprise. “All right,” she replied, distractedly drinking in every detail of her husband’s appearance, just as though they’d been apart for weeks instead of mere hours. Snowflakes dusted the shoulders of his overcoat; more snow glittered in his dark hair. His cheeks were rosy, flushed with cold and his eyes, when he looked at her, glowed even more warmly. “What is it you want to show me?”

“Something I’ve been working on. It’s down in the workshop. Hurry and get your cloak and boots.”

“Mr. Leonides,” Mrs. Harrison interrupted, her tone scandalized. “Surely you’ll want to come in and have your tea and get yourself warmed up before you go out again, or drag Mrs. Leonides out into the cold?”   

Dario shrugged. "It's not that cold and, in any case, we won't be out in it very long." He gestured toward the window. “Besides, it’ll be  getting dark soon, and will only get colder. The tea will keep. Send it back to the kitchen, if it gets to be too long, and ask cook to make us another pot.”

“I’ll go and get my things,” Ophelia said, flashing an apologetic glance at her housekeeper. Mrs. Harrison rolled her eyes but made no further protest. She seemed more resigned to Dario’s manner, rather than aggravated by it. Then again, she’d been his housekeeper for quite some time now, Ophelia reflected. She’d been with the family, in one capacity or another, ever since Dario was a little boy and so had  probably seen a lot of it.

As Ophelia made to hurry past him, Dario snagged her wrist and brought her to a stop. He lifted her hand to his lips and took a bite of the cookie she’d forgotten she was still holding. Then he licked at the sugar and cinnamon still clinging to her fingertips and smiled. “Delicious as always,” he murmured. A wicked smile played over his lips. Ophelia felt her cheeks grow warm. He wasn’t talking just about the cookies and, given his tone and the heat in his eyes, she didn’t think their housekeeper would be fooled into thinking he was either.

“Dario.” Her voice was weak, breathless, embarrassed. He chuckled in response.

“Hurry back.”

Her husband was pacing in the front hallway when Ophelia returned, just a few minutes later. He stopped to stare at her as she came down the stairs, still fumbling with the fastenings to the new cloak he’d bought for her last week in Philadelphia. It was made of red wool, floor-length, with a deep hood and trimmed in white fur. Ophelia thought it quite becoming and, if the look Dario was giving her was anything to go by, he thought so too.

“My God, you’re beautiful. Come here.” Dario’s voice was husky. He took hold of Ophelia’s shoulders, drew her close and slanted his lips over hers.

Ophelia could not repress the moan that slipped past her lips.  Her breasts felt heavy and the liquid warmth between her legs had her pressing her thighs tightly together. She leaned even closer to Dario, craving more of his touch, more of his kisses, until the measured tread of footsteps in the back hallway reminded her of their location. She pulled back. “Dario, stop. We can't. What if someone sees?”

“And? What of it?” He raised one aristocratic eyebrow in a look that was so impossibly—and unconsciously—arrogant that Ophelia couldn’t help but smile. “Let them see. It seems to me I’ve every right to kiss my own wife in my own front hallway. Unless she objects?”

Ophelia shook her head. "No, of course not." But a few moments longer and they’d be doing more than just kissing. And that was something she would object to—at least in public. “I thought there was something you wished to show me?”

Dario's smile returned. “Right. Come along then.” He took hold of her hand and led her outside. As they walked through the gently falling snow, Ophelia glanced around appreciatively. Even partially obscured, the rocky landscape  around them was nothing at all like the soft rolling hills she was used to. Still, it was a raw, rough beauty to the place and there was no denying it.

They stopped at last by the old barn that housed Dario’s workshop. The doors were massive. Thick wooden planks banded by iron, they looked impossibly heavy. Ophelia’s eyes widened in surprise when Dario pushed them open with ease. Curious, she looked more closely and soon realized it wasn’t just the well-oiled track or the chain and pulley that allowed Dario to accomplish such a feat. She recognized the workmanship on the pneumatic hinges attached to the door's frame, and knew her father had had a hand in their design.

Dario twisted a small handle located on the wall beside the door and blaus gas lamps set along the walls and rafters flared to life, illuminating the barn’s interior.

“What have you been doing in here all day?” she asked, still looking around. A large worktable, draped in a canvas tarpaulin, dominated the space.

“Come and see.” Dario grabbed hold of her hand again and led her toward the table. With a flourish, he  whisked the canvas away, revealing a miniature landscape. Ophelia recognized it as a replica of their house and the surrounding property. “Well?” he asked eagerly. “What do you think of it?”

Ophelia stared at it in puzzlement. “It’s beautiful but…what’s it for?”

“It’s for you. It’s a model of the garden I’m going to build for you utilizing some of your father’s technology. I know you’ve been feeling homesick. I thought this might help.”

He was building her a garden? Something to make her feel more at home—here in his home. Ophelia blinked back her tears, so moved by Dario’s gesture that she could not find the words to express it. Not that she could have spoken them, even if she had found them. As it was, she had to swallow hard before she could talk at all. “Oh, Dario, thank you.”

“Wait.” He smiled again. “That's not all. There’s still one more thing more you have to see." He pressed a button on the side of the display and suddenly the air was filled with an almost-unearthly music. 

“What are those?” Ophelia asked staring, mesmerized at the odd figures that had appeared within the display. They were strange little things, hunched–backed little creatures with feathery head-dresses. Each one carried a tiny flute and danced merrily amidst the miniature landscape.

Dario picked one up and place it on his open hand, where it continued to dance and play.  “This is Kokopelli,” he said , his tone reverent. “The flute player. He's a very important spirit here. It’s said that it's his song that melts the snow and brings  winter to an end. It’s also claimed that it’s he who fertilizes crops, who makes the land and all the plants and creatures on it conceive and bear new life. Although he's also known as a Trickster, occasionally.”

New life. Ophelia studied the little dancer more closely. Strange though it sounded, she could well believe the claims. There was something magical about the song. She felt it reverberating deep inside her, resonating with everything she was or felt or dreamed of being. Her head swam suddenly and she drew a long breath, feeling distinctly shaky.  “And are there always so many of them?” she asked, gesturing at the table.

“Oh. That.” Dario laughed and gently returned the little doll to the table. “No, not usually. But I was so eager to get back here and get started on this that I completely forgot what day it was, along with the fact that you’d wanted to stay until after Twelfth Night.”

“I…it-it’s all right,” Ophelia stammered. She ducked her head, feeling guilty now for her earlier unkind thoughts. “I do understand that you have important things to do and cannot spend all your time with me. I’m grateful we were able to go at all.” 


Dario reached out and drew her into his arms. “It’s not all right,” he said as he lifted her chin and gazed down at her sternly. “And there’s nothing more important to me than you.”  He nodded at the table. “It's 

the Eleventh Day of Christmas, Lia. And those eleven pipers are piping just for you.” He leaned in and brushed a tender kiss across her lips. “Because you are, and always will be, my own true love.”


 “Oh, Dario.” Tears sparked in Ophelia's eyes.  “I do love you so.”


 “And I you, Lia,” Dario answered drawing her close.  “No matter what happens. Always.”

http://www.jowsey.com/kokopelli/kokopelli.html

We Wish You a Steampunk Christmas

Changed forever after tragedy, a woman must draw strength from her husband's love. A man learns that love isn't always what you expect. A thief steals the heart of a vengeful professor. And an American inventor finds love Down Under. Enjoy Victorian Christmas with a clockwork twist in these four steampunk novellas.

A Clockwork Christmas anthology includes:

Crime Wave in a Corset by Stacy Gail

This Winter Heart by PG Forte

Wanted: One Scoundrel by Jenny Schwartz

Far From Broken by JK Coi

Stories also available for purchase separately. 

Christmas Light Graphics provided by MUDTRAP.COM

The Clock's Running Out--Just One More Day to Wait!

So...tomorrow's the big day. Being part of the A Clockwork Christmas anthology has already been such a great experience. The stories are great, my antho-sisters are fabulous. And it's been such a thrill working with Angela James and everyone at Carina Press.

And now it's time for me to tell you all a little bit about my own story, This Winter Heart.

Santa Fe, The Republic of New Texacali, 1870


Eight years ago, Ophelia Leonides's husband cast her off when he discovered she was not the woman he thought she was. Now destitute after the death of her father, Ophelia is forced to turn to Dario for help raising the child she never told him about.

Dario is furious that Ophelia has returned, and refuses to believe Arthur is his son—after all, he thought his wife was barren. But to avoid gossip, he agrees to let them spend the holidays at his villa. While he cannot resist the desire he still feels for Ophelia, Dario despises himself for being hopelessly in love with a woman who can never love him back.

But Dario is wrong: Ophelia's emotions are all too human, and she was brokenhearted when he rejected her. Unsure if she can trust the man she desperately loves, she fears for her life, her freedom and her son if anyone else learns of her true nature...
30,000 words

Read an excerpt

I had such fun writing this story melding secret-baby and lovers-reunited themes with classic sci-fi. For my setting I chose Santa Fe, because there's no place more festive during the holidays. I also chose to play fast and loose with History, envisioning a world where the Confederacy was victorious, the Louisiana Purchase never happened, and all the territory between Oklahoma and California was its own country. 


Oh, and where automatons look and feel--and love--just like anyone else.





In the words of one reviewer:

"This Winter Heart is a heart wrenching but satisfying read. Ophelia is not the woman she appears to be, and when her husband Dario discovered this in a conversation with her father, he cast her out. Now Ophelia's father has died and she feels that she has no choice but to seek help from Dario, not just for her but for the son Dario does not know he has. The emotional depth of this novella is much more than one might expect."


Read more here




And, yes, btw, I'm including TWO different RTCs  for This Winter Heart in the set. Never could choose. 


We Wish You a Steampunk Christmas

Changed forever after tragedy, a woman must draw strength from her husband's love. A man learns that love isn't always what you expect. A thief steals the heart of a vengeful professor. And an American inventor finds love Down Under. Enjoy Victorian Christmas with a clockwork twist in these four steampunk novellas.

Anthology includes:

Crime Wave in a Corset by Stacy Gail

This Winter Heart by PG Forte

Wanted: One Scoundrel by Jenny Schwartz

Far From Broken by JK Coi

Clockwork Countdown Day Three

G'day, mates. Welcome to day three of the Clockwork Christmas antho countdown. My apologies, Jenny, but you know I had to do it. ;)

Today's post is devoted to Wanted: One Scoundrel by our Aussie co-author Jenny Schwartz. Jenny's the genius behind our Facebook page (just so you know) and if you haven't "liked" us yet...well, I sure don't know what you're waiting for.

Now, on with the blurbage...

All suffragette Esme Smith wants is a man. A scoundrel to be precise. Someone who can be persuaded to represent her political views at men-only clubs. As the daughter of the richest man in Australia, Esme can afford to make it worth the right man's while.

Fresh off the boat, American inventor Jed Reeve is intrigued by Esme's proposal, but even more interested in the beauty herself. Amused that she takes him for a man who lives by his wits, he accepts the job—made easier by the fact that he already shares her ideals. Soon, he finds himself caught up in political intrigue, kidnapping and blackmail, and trying to convince his employer he's more than just a scoundrel...

26,000 words

Read an excerpt

The first romance novel I remember reading (way back in the day) was Victoria Holt's Pride of the Peacock, which was set in Australia. I walked away from that book with a new passion for three things. The romance genre, opals and Australia. Reading Wanted: One Scoundrel was like being reunited with an old friend...oh, and did I mention the hero is from California? Really, what's not to love about that?

Aside from all of that, however, this is a bright, light-hearted, romantic read. He has secrets, she has an agenda and the reader has a lot of fun watching them sort it all out.

Reading thru the Night had this to say about it: "Now this was a fun one.  And it was totally PG-13.  This setting is in the Outback, which totally rocks my world because I don't think I've ever read anything set in Australia.  And then, furthermore, I don't know if I studied anything that HAPPENED in Australia.  My American education lacking somewhere along the way.  I guess I assumed that Australians went through the same woman's suffrage movement, but it just seemed out_there.  Wanted: One Scoundrel is sorta about that BUT with a cool *scoundrel*.  Oh there were also some nifty inventions, a villain, a heiress, some kidnapping, and overall ACTION-PACKED PLOT.  Two thumbs up over here. "


Read more here

 Reminder: every comment enters you for another chance to win a full set of these lovely Romance Trading Cards, which I should mention were designed by our own JK Coi (yes, we're all just multi-faceted that way *cough* I wish *cough*).

We Wish You a Steampunk Christmas

Changed forever after tragedy, a woman must draw strength from her husband's love. A man learns that love isn't always what you expect. A thief steals the heart of a vengeful professor. And an American inventor finds love Down Under. Enjoy Victorian Christmas with a clockwork twist in these four steampunk novellas.

Anthology includes:

Crime Wave in a Corset by Stacy Gail

This Winter Heart by PG Forte

Wanted: One Scoundrel by Jenny Schwartz

Far From Broken by JK Coi

Stories also available for purchase separately