Snippet Sunday 23-03-14

This week's snippet is from my first Regency novel,

No Job For a Woman

(now available online for the special price of $2.99)

“If we all turn up and start asking questions, it would get back to the Graingers. They may assume we know about their latest threat, but equally, they can’t be certain.”

Husband and wife waited when Julian paused.

“On consideration let me go alone tomorrow. I’ll tell Deborah you’ve invited her to spend next weekend with you, Henri, and if Brandon hears of the invitation, there’s little he can make of it.”

“Why would you go, and not me?”

“Because you want to spend time alone with your wife before Clara returns from visiting her aunt in Leicestershire. And—,” he added, “I think Deborah may not be so resistant if the information and conclusions we have reached come from me rather than you.”

 

No Job For a Woman is available from:-

 Amazon UK    Barnes & Noble,    Smashwords    iTunes Amazon

 

Thanks for coming by :-) 

You'll find a lot more gifted authors at SNIPPET SUNDAY

 

Tuesday's Tales - Picture

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales  

 

Once again, many thanks to all those who drop by each week. I also appreciate, and often act upon comments and suggestions left.  Many thanks.

 

My story continues on from last week. Norma's name has been changed to Amanda, and in this clip she's struggling to come to terms with information that will change her life. . ~~I am also using NaNo to continue with this story. :-)

“Your grandfather is waiting for me,” her grandmother said again. “And I am ready to go home.”

Home? Did she no longer consider this house her home? Unfair, even unreasonable as it might be, the thought triggered a sliver of jealousy, abandonment, and yes, anger. Had all the love been false? Offered as a sense of duty? She almost wished she’d never left her bed this morning. Wished she could unheard what she’d learned this evening. Wished that the black thread of jealousy would fade away.

The question hovered in her head, growing, darkening, and sharpening. And in the end it refused to lie down.

“Did you ever love me, or was it just a token duty emotion?”

With surprising strength her grandmother leaned forward, caught Amanda is a strong, hard hug and crooned her denial. “Of course it wasn’t duty. Nor was it from guilt,” she added before Amanda could open her mouth.

“You were such a pretty baby we all fell in love with you the moment we saw you. That doesn’t mean we didn’t intend to find your rightful home. We did. All of us, except your mother, of course.”

The dilemma, Amanda thought, what a dilemma, saving her daughter-in-law’s sanity and possibly even her life, or doing the rightful thing and returning her, Amanda, back to her rightful parents. Perhaps she was callous, as perhaps she was unreasonable to judge when she’d never faced such a dilemma, but Amanda felt sure she would have returned the child and risked the consequences. As it was they, her non-family had made their choices and it looked as though she’d be faced with the consequences for the rest of her life.

A rock and a hard place didn’t even begin to cover the situation she found herself in.

“Go on,” Amanda encouraged when her grandmother stopped speaking. It was obvious to Amanda her grandmother was fading fast, and she was desperate to hear everything the older woman had to say before it was too late.

“The key,” her grandmother repeated. “Do not lose the key. There should be another matching box that shares the same key. Your grandfather had them built to share the same key.”

Another box? “Where? Where is this other box?”

Her grandmother slumped back against her pillows, her eyes shut, her breathing coming in shallow gasps.
She looked round the room and her gaze settled on the picture of the lilacs. For a moment she couldn’t turn away from it. When she looked round again her grandmother was staring at her.

 

Thank you for reading this week's offering, there are lots more free reads at  Tuesday's Tales 

Snippet Sunday 14-04-13 WWW

Thank you to everyone who visited last week and to those who left comments. Your thoughts are always appreciated.
For today's Sunday Snippet I'm continuing where I left off two weeks ago, a little ways into the beginning of a new WIP (working title Horseshoe 1)  ** Sorry I missed last week.**
Again I don't have names for my characters at this stage hence the 'he' and 'she.'
This week I have joined the Weekend Writing Warriors  again.

“Freemont? Ashworthy?  There is no… what do you call it? real estate agency in town, because there is no town within a hundred mile radius of this property.  Indeed there is no town on this part of my kingdom, so you see you are not only an intruder, but a liar, too.”

His voice rang with an undisputable authority that almost fooled her.  Whatever he was on, the man was flying in delusions of grandeur.

“Real estate agency is the equivalent of the English estate agent,” she began.

“I know not what you are talking about, nor do I know of these people and places you mention. I am expecting guests for the weekend and see no evidence of any preparations for their arrival and comfort. I sent word with my agent—“ he offered her an evil grin of satisfaction, then continued. “My agent, unlike yours is known to me and has worked for my family as did his father and grandfather before him. I am not interested in your mythical agents. Be gone.”

That's it for this week, :-) Thanks for coming by and you'll find lots more free-read snippets at Snippet Sunday  and Weekend Writing Warriors 

Snippet Sunday 03-03-13

Thank you to everyone who visited last week and to those who left comments. Your thoughts are always appreciated.

For today's Sunday Snippet I'm continuing from where I left off last week.

Swallowing against the bile threatening to choke him, Jim closed the distance and looked into the wrecked car.  The passenger had ducked, but not far enough.  And the driver— Well Jim could only pray she hadn’t had time to know what was coming before the car hit the trailer.

Unable to do anything for the people in the car, he grasped the man, still gripping the door, by the arm and pulled him away to the side of the road. Not sure if he would fall down, Jim pushed him down to sit on the damp grass. He reckoned a wet arse would be the least of the man’s worries right now.

That's it for this week, :-) Thanks for coming by and you'll find lots more free-read snippets at Snippet Sunday

Tuesday's Tale - Picture prompt

 

The Tuesday's Tale picture prompt this month is so fitting for valentine's Day I decided to have a little poke at 'expectations'.  I have kept it beneath the 300 word limit ;-) (This is a short one-off story, quite unrelated to my current wip that I have been posting recently.)

 

She looked at the box, then at the man, and her heart turned over in her chest. Love, as warm and red as the gift-wrapping, and as bright as the silver ribbon, neatly topping it with a tidy bow, blazed in his eyes.

Could you fall in love at first sight? It felt like it to her, but could she trust the emotions swirling inside her?

The glow in his eyes dimmed, and her heart squeezed.

Two days, that’s all. They’d known each other for two days.

And in those two days, life had been full; wonderful, and filled with meaning… and joy.

Could she dismiss the magic they generated when they were together so causally? Should she?

She stared back at the box, then up at the man again.

The sound of waves lapping against the sun-kissed shore beat a gentle rhythm in her head. His hair the colour of a setting sun, and his eyes, she noticed again, were as blue as the summer sky. The glow in them had changed-to determination.

She half wished he’d coax her to take the box, but he remained silent, as still as a statue apart from his watchful gaze on her face.

Without warning the image of a door closing filled her mind.

No!

No, she refused to let the door close and snatched the gift out of his cupped hands.

Unaware of the breath backing up in her lungs, she tore at the wrapping and snapped up the lid and stared. A plastic bubblegum-pink ring lay on a black velvet bed.

With a gurgle of laughter, she lifted the ring from the box and handed it to him and watched him slide it on her finger.

“Just stating my intent,” he said, and drew her in for a kiss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

You'll find plenty more great reads over at Tuesday's Tales.

Heartbreaker Blog Hop 8th - 11th

Are our heroes heartthrobs or heartbreakers? Or are they just the same thing? Yummy right? Valentine's Day is just around the corner for this blog hop and we're gearing up to see what exactly is a heartbreaker. Is the song playing in your head line mine? "Cuz he's a heartbreaker!"

 

We love those sexy men, but what about those times in the story when they aren't perfect. Because come on, we know they aren't perfect. What makes those men heartbreakers? What can those guys do to make it better? Is there a way to grovel? Come on! Tell me about your heartbreaker!!

 

In book 2 of my Gasquet Princes series, His chosen Bride, When Melanie offers to help massage away the pain in his neck, Henri messes up big time and lets his position and his pride get in the way his heart's desire.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Latest review HERE

For another five minutes her fingers kneaded, dug, probed and soothed in equal measure and she allowed herself to revel in the touch. Nothing sexual, just their energies mixing, swirling between them and settling. The rightness of the moment seeped into her soul, and before she could prevent them, images of a future together flipped across her mind, breaking the spell. 

She allowed her hands to drift down his arms and then stepped back. A glance at the clock revealed the need for her to search for Melanie if she hoped to cross anything else off her ‘to-do’ list today.

 

Before she’d taken a step his fingers manacled her wrist. Emotion, too dark to interpret, filled his eyes. 

“Thank you. I know from experience that it can take days, sometimes weeks for a crick like that to ease. It feels terrific.” He rolled his head in a circle stretching his neck and offered her one of his heart melting smiles. 

As suddenly as a light switch turning off, his smile vanished. “But don’t let it give you ideas, just because I let you ease my shoulder.” His voice chilled the warmth from the room and sent shivers down her spine. 

 “As if,” she muttered, before almost running from the room. Why couldn’t the stupid fool see that she’d take him in a heartbeat, even—especially, she corrected—if he had barely two pennies to rub together? It was the man’s heart she wanted, not his wealth or his kingdom.

Almost 300 bloggers have giveaways and posts about those men we love!

 

But that's not all....

 

We have THREE grand prizes. You as a reader can go to EACH blog and comment with your email address and be entered to win. Yep, you can enter over 200 times!

 

 

Now what are those prizes?

 

1st Grand Prize: A Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet

 

2nd Grand Prize: A $100 Amazon or B&N Gift Card

3rd Grand Prize: A Swag Pack that contains paperbacks, ebooks, 50+ bookmarks, cover flats, magnets, pens, coffee cozies, and more!

Winners will be announced by Carrie-Anne
at

Website: http://carrieannbloghops.blogspot.com/

~ ~ ~ ~ ~I am also giving away a pdf copy of
His Chosen Bride
to one commenter who tells me which prince, real or fictional,  you would like to date and why.Don't forget to include your email address to be in with a chance of winning.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ for a full list of participating authors

please visit http://carrieannbloghops.blogspot.co.uk/p/heartbreaker-hop.html

Tuesday's Tales ~ Silver.

Tuesday's Tales has come round again, and I am begiing to wonder when time became jet-propelled.  I mean, where did January go to? *grin*  Yeah! yeah, so I'm showing my age...

This week's word prompt is Silver so in keeping with my new wip I went to my source for this project and have ended up with a 500word+ short story.
~~~

Sheila looked from the coin in her hand to her friend, Martha, sitting across the table from her. Their plates, smeared with the last evidence of the meal they’d shared, sat pushed to one side, waiting for collection.

“Did you know silver is used in medication?”

Wide-eyed, Martha shook her head. “No!” Her shudder was real enough, her eyes wide with a mix of revulsion and fascination as she too, stared at the coin in Sheila’s hand. “You’re joking. Tell me you are joking,” she pleaded.

“I kid you not.” Laugh lines crinkled at the edge of Sheila’s eyes now and her lips curved upward. With one finger she traced the edge of the coin. “I read somewhere that it was first used by the Anglo-Saxons who believed rubbing it on diseased skin was efficacious. Apparently the first record of using silver for medicinal purposes goes back to the eighth century when silver filings were used to purify the blood and ease what they call heart palpitations…”

“But it’s not used now? Is it?” In a subliminal act of comfort Martha reached for her tea cup, frowned when she found it empty, and held up her hand to stop Sheila’s commentary until she’d refilled it. “I mean, it’s barbaric. Silver is poisonous.”

“So are a lot of chemicals that are used medicinally,” Sheila verified. “And yes,” she continued, “it is still used in modern medicine.” She turned the coin over and looked up again. “There’s an anti-bacterial ion in silver which is currently used in wound dressings that is more successful than many antibiotics formerly used against MRSA.”

Martha sat back, both hands wrapped round her tea-cup and stared. Her eyes darkened, her mouth worked, but no words came out. She lifted her cup to her mouth, drank then replaced it on its saucer.

“Where do you get all this information?”

“Do you remember when Granny Blake was rushed to hospital a couple of years ago?”

Recalling the suddenness with which the woman had fallen ill, and been rushed to hospital Martha nodded. “Yes, but she’s at fit as a fiddle and active as ever. What does that have to do with the use of silver as a medication?”

“She was diagnosed as having MRSA.”

Sheila’s words coincided with a sudden silence in the café and Martha felt the eyes of all the other diners turned towards their table in shocked silence. Her embarrassment at being thrown into the centre of attention changed to triumph when she thought of Granny Blake today.

“But she’s as fit as she used to be! She still has more energy than the two of us put together. Are you saying they used silver in her medication?”

“All my research at the time indicates that the staff would use medication that included silver during Granny’s stay in hospital.”

“Wow!” 

Martha’s laugh brought grins to the faces of those at the surrounding tables.

“And here I thought silver, apart for paying for goods and pretty things, was all about whether it crossed the right or the left hand. Prosperity for one and poverty for the other. I’ll never look at silver in the same way again,” she said, while fingering the filigree chain round her neck.

There's lots more TT stories at Tuesday's Tales

A Regency Christmas Blog

This blog runs from the 3rd or 10th December

 

Welcome to Astraea Press's Regency Christmas Blog hop, where there will be lots of prizes on offer at each stop.
Each stop will include certain information

The first is an author Bio:

Multi-published author, Sherry Gloag is a transplanted Scot now living in the beautiful coastal countryside of Norfolk, England.  She considers the surrounding countryside as extension of her own garden, to which she escapes when she needs "thinking time" and solitude to work out the plots for her next novel.  While out walking she enjoys talking to her characters, as long as there are no other walkers close by.

Apart from writing, Sherry enjoys gardening, walking, reading and cheerfully admits her books tend to take over most of the shelf and floor space in her workroom-cum-office.  She also finds crystal craft work therapeutic.

The second is a copy of Mrs. Peabody's scandal sheet whic covers information about my story, Vidal's Honor, and  Kristin Vayden's Redeeming the Deception of Grace.

Earlier this year Astraea Press invited several authors to write a Christmas Rgency story that must include certain perameters.

a) A character called Lord Kringle.
b) the sotrty must take place in the year of 1812
c) there must be a scene that included a Christmas Eve Ball at Holy  Hall, the home of Lord and Lady Kringle.

For the rest of the story - the sky, as the saying goes, is the limit.

Eleven authors participated and thier stories couldn't be more varied if they'd tried.  :-)

Here is the Blurb for Vidal's Honor

Which will Honor lose first? Her head or her heart?

 

When plunged into a world of spies, agents and espionage during the Peninsula wars, Honor, Lady Beaumont, flees for her life when the French capture her husband at Salamanca, and relies on his batman to arrange her safe passage back to England.

Viscount Charles Vidal is ordered by Robert Dumas, the First Lord of the Admiralty, to travel to Spain and escort the only woman he’s ever loved, Lord Devlin Beaumont’s widow back home before the French discover her whereabouts.

Their journey is fraught by danger, least of all knowing whether they are surrounded by friends or foe. Will they survive long enough to explore the possibility of a future together or will whispers of treason be enough to see Honor dispatched to Tyburn first?
 
Excerpt:
While Vidal joked with his cousin, the viscount scanned the room. The smell of fine wine, whiskey and cigar smoke blended into a rich aroma that was as much a part of Whites as the card games, the background chatter, and outbreaks of lewd laughter from the younger members of the club.

One member in particular interested Vidal tonight, and he watched Robert Dundas, second Viscount Melville, and First Lord of the Admiralty, take leave of his friends and head in his direction.
 
He wondered why the man spent the best part of the night watching his every move, and paused in the act of fobbing his snuff box while he waited for the viscount to join him.
 
“Take a walk with me?” Although couched as a question, Vidal noted the quiet steel of command in the other man’s voice. Dundas laid a hand on his arm; a companionable gesture for anyone interested enough to observe the two men leaving the club together. “I believe I live not far beyond your own house. I’d appreciate your company, and this is not the place for such a discussion. ”
 
With an indolent twist of the wrist Vidal returned the modish lacquered box, unopened, to his pocket and nodded agreement. A man’s club was no setting for private conversation, and it was plain the man wanted to talk about something away from flapping ears.
 
Together they strolled across the room stopping to take leave of several mutual friends.
 
What are others saying about Vidal's Honor ~~
"Vidal's Honor" is a captivating book. It's rich in history and beautiful descriptions...
 
"This is a full-length novel, not a traditional Regency but a surprisingly intricate cloak-and-dagger, spy-and-adventure story with a generous splash of romance...The clever, well-sorted resolution, and the sweet romance, are more than satisfying...."
 
 

GIVEAWAY ~ PRIZES

 

Astraea press have published three of my stories,

and I am giving away three prizes -

winners will be chosen by random.org

 

All you have to do is leave a comment,

and the winners will get a book of their choice

 

 

 

Before you take off for the next hop, this is what people are saying about Kristin Vayden's - Redeeming the Deception of Grace.

 

"I really enjoyed this story. The chemistry flew off the pages..."

 

"This is a great, short read that will warm your heart!"

 

"This is my first from this author. And I LOVE it!!! Since I love Christmas and love story this is definitely for me. I would recommend it to anybody."

 

Don't miss this opportunity to visit Kristin Vayden's hop. 

I hope you have a wonderful and romantic holiday.

All authors included in this hop are:-

 

Kay Sprinsteen - The Toymaker

Vivian Roycroft - Scandal on Half Moon Street

Sherry Gloag - Vidal's Honor

Lindsay Downs  - Christmas Surprise

Patricia Kiyono - Partridge and the Peartree  

Ruth Hartman - Time for a Duke

Christina Graham Parker - Ghosts of Christmas Past 

Kim Bowman - The Duke Of Christmas Past

Rachel Van Dyken - The Devil Duke Takes a Bride 

Leah Sanders - Two Turtledoves

Kristin Vayden - Redeeming the Decption of Grace

Find more information about all these books

 

Tuesday's Tales ~ Finger (2)

Today's Tuesday's Tales prompt is Finger. So I have gone back to a former work in progress about one of my royal twins, Sacha.

While she cradled her son, Melanie watched the twins from her seat on the edge of the group. She noted while Sacha laughed and joked with his twin, the camaraderie didn’t reflect in his eyes. 

And Simeon? 

Of the two he was naturally more suave than Sacha, drew the women to him without even trying but beneath the free and easy façade he presented to the world was a hard working earnest young man.  Sometimes too earnest, Melanie thought. 

Sometimes too earnest? 

Was that because as the younger twin he constantly felt obligated to prove himself?

But this man was hard, honed, and alert. But was it because he was a killer, or did he have some other, different agenda. No one here could deny the man could take out two of the four heirs to the throne—her heart stuttered—and their children. Would that make him a suicide bomber, or had he already secreted some device to go off after he left?

When the door opened and Liam joined them she studied his reaction to their latest visitor closely.  And there it was; the slightest withdrawal, the anxious glance in her direction, but no agitation.

Thrown by his lack of surprise she waited until his gaze rested on hers, narrowed and then with the slightest of nods he crossed the room to sit on the arm of her chair.

He took his son from her and cradled the sleeping child against his shoulder. “Did you know about this?”

Liam’s question wiped the smile from her eyes.

“I did not,” she snapped, and almost too late remembered to lower her voice. “Is there something you should have told me?”

“That’s just it, my dear. I may have got there in the end, but Sacha knew almost before the man got out of his car that he—“ He pointed to their visitor “— is not Simeon, and your father seems to have suddenly dropped off the planet.

Schooled to maintain her countenance under stress, Melanie knew she’d failed this time.  Fear for her father, and worry about their intruder coalesced and cut right through her normal ability to maintain self-control.

Laying a restraining arm on her husband’s shoulder Melanie rose, crossed to the wet bar and held up the whisky decanter.

“Anyone for a snifter?” When Liam nodded she glance at the picture of the grouse on the lable and splashed some of the finest blended whiskey into a glass and handed it to him.

“Simeon? What will you have?”

“Nothing for me, thanks, I’ve just told Sacha I’m on the midnight flight to the States.”

The midnight flight? There was no midnight flight from Glasgow and he’d have to leave now if he wanted to reach Edinburgh. And why state a specific flight time when their family jet would be waiting for him.

“Oh? I tend to forget that although the main Jubilee events are over, you all still have foreign celebratory tours to make.” Apparently without thinking she handed Simeon a glass of whiskey and watched him toss it back in one gulp.  Whoever schooled their visitor had overlooked a few of the little, but still important details.  Like Simeon never drank whiskey.

Sacha’s rueful glance in her direction affirmed his appreciation of her tactics. “I think I’ll have a drink too.” He rose, stood next to her with his back to the room. “It’s a pleasure to watch you at work. No wonder Liam failed to penetrate your cover. Although I at the time I thought it was because he was besotted with you.”

With a laugh she looked up at him and for the first time that evening, Melanie watched Sacha’s mischievous smile reach his eyes. “Besotted, Sacha?”

“Besotted, Melanie, and you know it.”

“Actually, no I didn’t.” her suddenly serious response had them both glancing at the man posing as Sacha’s twin.

“I have phone calls to make. Don’t let him leave before I return.”

Without a backward glance at her husband still snuggling their child, she left the room.

Thanks to everyone who visits me on Tuesdays and for the comment and helpful suggestions you offer. They are all appreciated. :-0

you ca click on the picture at the top to return to the Tuesday's Tales site for more stories.

Sweet Saturday Sample

It's a while since I particpated in SSS and it feels good to be back.  Today I am sharing a scene between Honor, the heroine in my Christmas Regency wip, and 'le Duc' a French agent.
I hope you enjoy.

“Be calm, my friends,” the duke laughed, a carefree sound, and turned to the men.  “The south pavilion houses the Musée des Douanes and not only displays the history of Bordeaux as a port town, but models of different ships, various navigational instruments and much more. I thought it might interest my lord Vidal and your friend Juan.”

When both men hesitated the duke held their gaze and shook his head. “Both ladies are safe in my care. Shall we say,” he pulled his watch from his pocket and studied it. “An hour? Perhaps more?  I believe it has extensive displays, we will enjoy a stroll and find somewhere to enjoy another sample of the local wine.”

Reluctantly the men set of in the direction of the museum.

“That was very naughty of you,” Honor offered a smile with her mild rebuke.

When Consuela ran ahead  the duke turned a serious face to her.  “It has come to my notice that my enemies are closing in.”

Not a trace of humour remained in his eyes or round his mouth. He stopped walking and placed a preventative hand on her arm. Not knowing what to say, or what the duke expected from her, she remained silent.

“While you need not fear your wretched brother-in-law any more, I am afraid he managed to spread his rumours far and wide before he left England.”

“So you told me.” Her empathy ebbed with his reminder of what lay in store for her once she reached home.

“There is little I can do that will not exacerbate the situation, and it might amuse you to learn that while he betrayed his brother, and you, he also betrayed me, too.”

“He told you?” Vidal had warned her of Cedric’s villainy, but this? She watched the duke’s lips tighten, his eyes grow hard.

“Indeed, almost his last words were his boast that he’d been paid twice for the same information.”

“Then surely they are nothing more than idle threats of an evil man bent on causing mischief to the end.”

“So I thought,” the duke agreed. “Sadly, this time he did not lie.  If I return to England there will be no room for explanation.  There is, I believe a bounty on my person, and so it grieves me to admit that I will not be visiting your country anytime soon if ever again.”

“What does this have to do with me?”  A quick glance revealed Consuela studying some wares displayed outside of a building across the square.

“I have done what I can to restore your good name, but, as I said, now my own position has been compromised, it may not be enough. Indeed it could work against you.” He looked down, real regret in his eyes.

“I told you, did I not, that I have only one mistress?”

“You did.” Honor confirmed.  “Your country.”

“I knew I could rely on your good memory for I have a confession to make. One I hope will not distress you, rather you will remember with a little fondness.” He let go of her arm, and dug into his pocket once more.

“I once thought myself in love with a woman, but she taught me well never to trust her gender again, and until I met you I never deviated from that vow.”

Puzzled more than embarrassed Honor shook her head in semi denial of what she knew was coming.

“I will not go so far as to describe what I feel for you as love, rather that no other woman has touched my heart the way you do, and that is why I have taken it upon myself to escort you and your friends through France.” He looked round at the people. “I intended to use my yacht to send you across the Channel a final damning of your character in the eyes of your authorities. Now I find I cannot do it, so I have arranged for another vessel to carry you from France to England. Remember the name, it is important.  Marie Anne. You will ask the captain 'if this is the Marie Anne, not the queen'. Only then will he let you onboard.”

“But will you not be there to see us set sail?”

When the duke shook his head, Honor couldn’t identify the feelings swirling through her.  She’d feared him, loathed him, been grateful to him for the provisions he’d left them, and more than a little wary of his motivation for meeting them at Irun and escorting them across France.

“No, my dear, it is unlikely I will be there when you set sail.”

There are more great offerings at Sweet Saturday Samples.