A to Z: Kissing Scenes

You may as well know up front, writing kissing scenes makes me blush. Which is why when I'm working with my writing partner, I will typically set her up to write them. Works out. She rocks the kissing scenes.

Sometimes though, she makes me do one... I think she's trying to stretch me, but she might just be messing with me because she likes to see me cringe when I write one.

Here are some of our kissing scenes from the Waltzing with the Wallflower series (See if you can tell which of us wrote what):

from Waltzing with the Wallflower (Book 1)

Her breath hitched. He noticed, because the instant it happened his eyes darted to her parted lips. He leaned in, lightly inviting her mouth to taste his. She seemed unsure, frozen in place. He lifted her chin and ever so gently brushed a light kiss across her lips. If lightning would have struck him where he stood, he wouldn’t have been shocked, for the minute her innocent lips came into contact with his, he was a changed man.

An electric current hummed between their bodies. Without asking permission or thinking of their current situation, or the bet for that matter, he laid claim to her lips again. She didn’t push against him. Instead she sighed as he pressed his body against hers and used his tongue to part her lips further. Lust shot through him at alarming speed as Cordelia let out a sensual sigh, entangling her fingers into his hair. With a little tug, she had his complete devotion and attention. In fact, he was quite ready to ruin her and be done with it. Tentatively, she tasted him as he had her. At that moment the fires of Hades couldn’t have put a stop to his sensual exploration of her mouth. His hands slid down her waist memorizing every line of her body…

“Ahem, I can see I’m interrupting. Good thing too, considering the circumstances.”

from Beguiling Bridget (Book 2)

“Many gentlemen feel as I do. They simply lack the courage to confess it aloud.” He was moving toward her now, and she felt trapped as she tried in vain to inch away from him, finally finding herself backed up to a cold marble column. “You might find this hard to believe, but men are often afraid intelligent women will reject them.”

“And yet they keep trying. Don’t they, my lord?” He was too close. He was far too close. No matter what he said, Bridget promised herself she would not concede the field. Defense strategy. That is what she needed. And the best defense was often a good offense.

She offered him a sinfully sweet smile and waited for him to stop in his tracks. He didn’t. Instead, he sauntered closer, slow but constant, until his face was inches from hers. Her breath quickened, and suddenly it seemed that air was in short supply even outside on the balcony.

“Yes, some of us don’t understand the word defeat.”

“Even when it comes in the form of strawberries?” Bridget asked, fighting to control her breathing as the man drew nearer.

“Even when the lady threatens to push us in front of oncoming carriages and feed us the most grotesque fruit known to mankind. Even then, my lady. Even then.” His smile dazzled her as he inclined his head and bestowed a soft lingering kiss on her lips.

The warm sensation of his tender kiss seeped into her bones. His lips were soft and hypnotic as they lightly moved across hers. A battle raged within her, and she couldn’t decide if she should pull him closer or slap him across his perfect aristocratic face. So she waited, hoping the answer would come on its own.

She didn’t have to wait long. As he withdrew, the victorious sparkle in his eye and the triumphant smirk spreading wide across his lips brought her the realization — he thought he’d won.

And then her hand flew on its own.

from Taming Wilde (Book 3)

“I may be a fool, but at least I am not a coward.” Her eyes narrowed. She leaned forward, her chin nearly resting on his chest.

“Coward?” Minutes ago Colin had wanted to kill Anthony; now he was grateful, for at least he knew how to use his rakish charms against Gemma. Allow her to believe in his cool indifference when really all he wanted to do was reach out and touch her, pull her into his arms and never let go.

“Yes, I believe that is what I said. You are a coward.” Gemma’s blue eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

“I see.” Colin slowly inhaled her scent and reached to tilt her chin toward his mouth. Before he lost his nerve, he crushed his lips against hers, relishing the memory of their first kiss. The day that changed everything. The day she abandoned him and chose her family over love.

Her mouth was so soft, softer than he remembered. It was everything he wanted — everything he needed. For a minute the darkness didn’t seem so dark. The hole seemed not so deep. But it was an illusion, for she could not be trusted — not as a friend and surely not as a lover. She would stomp on whatever was left of his heart and leave him in utter darkness, even deeper in the hole of his own making.

With a laugh, he pushed her away. “Still as innocent as I remember. Thank you for reminding me, dear Gemma.”

She stared at him in breathless shock. “Reminding you of what?”

“What I’m missing, of course.”

Sweet Saturday: Taming Wilde

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I bid you goodnight."

The words cut like a hot blade straight into her heart. The memory of his lips burned on hers, but his eyes were smoldering dark steel.

Gemma could say nothing to him in response. The thick emotion in her throat made speech impossible, even if she could piece together a suitable response. They say the line between love and hate is a thin one. Colin had crossed over. She saw it in his eyes. He hated her. And she hated that she loved him still.

Swallowing back the inevitable sob, Gemma spun on her heel and fled.

She couldn’t stay there. Not another moment. She would find Hawke and make him take her home.

Back inside the ballroom, she scanned the dancers for signs of her brother. He was nowhere to be seen. Twirling about, she searched the outskirts of the room. Again, no Hawke.

The irony served only to nauseate her further. He had been keeping such a close eye on her every moment, so much so that he had suggested following her to the ladies’ lounge, and yet now when she truly needed him, he had disappeared into oblivion.

Groaning inwardly, she knew she would have to return to the corridor. She only hoped she would not encounter Colin once more. With a deep breath, she resolved to find her brother, no matter what it took.

Perhaps if she hadn’t been so lost in her despair, she would have sensed someone behind her before turning abruptly, slamming straight into the broad chest of Lord Maddox, the husband of Gemma’s bosom friend, Bridget. He grunted at the impact.

“Pardon me, my lady,” he muttered breathlessly.

“Oh Lord Maddox! I am so sorry!” Gemma felt overwrought. All she wanted was to find her brother and leave that place.

“Lady Gemma?” He grasped her elbow to steady her on her feet. “Are you injured?”

“No, my lord. Only embarrassed. I should have taken more care with my direction.”

“No harm done, my dear.” Lord Maddox glanced around them as though searching out the reason for her haste. “Is anything amiss? You seem rather distraught.”

“Everything is well. I was just on my way to find my brother. Have you seen Lord Van Burge, perchance?”

“Yes, indeed. I just came from the tables where I persuaded him to take my place in the game. He is there still. May I escort you to him?”

“No. Thank you, my lord. I can manage.” He released her and nodded, but as he stepped away, a sudden fear gripped Gemma. If she were to meet with Colin again, she would be alone. She needed someone to provide a buffer between her heart and the man’s scorn. “Lord Maddox!” Her voice faltered into a frantic squeak.

He spun around to face her. His expression betrayed his concern. “Yes?”

“I… I would like you to escort me. Thank you. For offering.”

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

My true love gave to me...

FROM THE COVER:

Can you find true love in a kiss?  How about a dozen?

Lucy Duckworth is comfortable with her life and in her own skin, and her habit of picking up orphaned cats is noble.  Yet when her roommate asks her to fill in at a kissing booth during the Winter Carnival, Lucy’s even-keeled existence suddenly tilts.

Matthew Kincaide has one simple motto:  live off the land, keep your head down, don’t talk a whole lot and never trust a woman.  Divorced and not about to give a female control over him again, all he wants is to deliver his animals for the petting zoo and go home.  Too bad his annoying brother coaxes him into buying tickets for the kissing booth.

Lucy’s and Matthew’s first kiss ends with a violent sneeze, but she can’t forget that first lip-tingling, take-me-away moment.  Though Matthew’s shocked by his first reaction, he lines up for a second chance.  Surely lightning can’t strike twice.  Will winter fun and a random accident derail their quest to find out how many kisses it takes to fall in love?

Happy Twelfth Night to Alicia, the recipient of the Eleventh Day of Christmas giveaway!

*****

Wanna be in the drawing for this book? Just leave a comment below with a way to get a hold of you. I'll draw a winner at midnight and post the result tomorrow. This is the last day of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Thanks for joining me in the celebration!

Two New Releases -- Coming November 1st!

Two Turtledoves

Baldwyn Sinclair, the Duke of Paisley, returns to London in the dead of winter at the request of his overbearing grandmother to find she has made a betrothal contract on his behalf... without his knowledge. Now he is to be married to none other than the girl who used to throw mud at him in order to gain his attention.

He is not happy about the prospect, but he is nothing if not devoted to duty.

Anastasia Trent has been in love with the Duke of Paisley since she was seven years old and has spent her life pining for him, fantasizing about the moment they would see each other again. But when he makes it clear that her imaginings are in vain, her disappointment drives her into the arms of a dangerous man.

It is up to Baldwyn to rescue her once again, to save her from herself, and to find perhaps, along the way, exactly what his own heart was looking for.

~Leah Sanders

The Devil Duke Takes a Bride

Benedict Devlyn, Duke of Banbury, has one thing on his mind and it isn't marriage. But things take a turn for the worse when his menacing and aunt throws a hitch in his plans to remain the most sinful and talked about man in the ton. After all, a man cannot keep the reputation of being The Devil Duke when he is leg-shackled to some simpering spinster.

But his aunt, bless her heart, thinks she's dying, and believes her nephew’s behavior is the only thing standing in the way between her entrance to heaven or hell. So she very lovingly and selflessly sets him up. With his childhood nemesis.

A young woman who, though she claims it was an accident, has nearly killed him thrice through her lack of grace and manners. It matters not that the minute he sets eyes on her at the Christmas ball, his blood boils with lust. He refuses to allow himself to fall prey to his aunt’s ministrations.

That is, until he is compromised and stuck in an engagement to a girl who claims she'd rather jump from a moving carriage than marry him. Funny thing that, for the very minute she says no, he finds his heart very much wants to say yes. When she doesn't leap at the chance to marry him, he sets about to not only prove that he's worthy of her favor, but also worthy of her heart.

~Rachel Van Dyken

Spotlight: K. Victoria Chase

Welcome to K. Victoria Chase, the author of Rafael (#1 in the Santiago Brothers series) and Serial Games (#1 in the Virginia Justice series).

A little about our guest today:

From childhood, bestselling author K. Victoria Chase enjoyed writing stories and plays and reading Christian romance. She received degrees in Criminal Justice and Diplomacy and worked as a federal law enforcement officer for several years before deciding to try her hand at writing a complete novel. Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) is the third completed work and the first published by Desert Breeze Publishing. Book two of the series, Marked by the Mob, will be released in November 2012. She has recently signed with Astraea Press for the first in her Santiago Brothers series, the Amazon bestselling Rafael. Until she can make writing a full-time venture, K. Victoria Chase continues to work in the field of counterterrorism, identifying potential terrorists that threaten the United States and the world. She currently resides in Leesburg, VA and writes both clean and Christian interracial romance.  

Do you do your best writing in the morning, during the day, or at night?

I don't have a particular time of day. I'm always thinking about stories so at any time I can sit down and start writing.

It's hard to have a scheduled time when you have other demands on your time. I usually end up working after I've put the kids to bed.

How did you come up with the idea for your book?

Which one? LOL. For 'Rafael,' I was listening to the song, "Impossible" by Shontelle (about a girl who put her faith in the wrong guy) and was thinking of the kiss (I always imagine the kiss between the hero and heroine when first brainstorming ideas for a story). The rest of the story typically just falls into place once I start writing the kissing scene, haha.

Love that!

If you could cast a movie based on your book, who would you choose to play each role?

For 'Serial Games,' I pictured Chris Hemsworth for US Marshal Brandon Worth and Kerry Washington for FBI  Agent Maggie Weston.

What are you working on now?

Right now, I'm 60% finished with book two in the Santiago Brothers series, 'Alejandro'. I'm so excited about this story! I LOVE Alejandro and can't wait to introduce him to the world.

When you write, do you plan everything out in advance, or do you fly by the seat of your pants?

I fly by the seat of my pants until the details get to complex and then I'll write a quick paragraph summary for each chapter which will include the main POV, and the GMC(goal, motivation, conflict) that needs to be introduced or addressed. I find a short paragraph allows me the flexibility to write freely and still keep the details of the story straight.

That is a good idea -- puts everything right there but still leaves room for the story to breathe.

What is the most difficult thing about writing for you?

Not enough time! I have a day job and it is hard to find the time, and the motivation sometimes, to write after a long, stressful day at work. Writing takes a lot out of you mentally, and you need healthy reserves before you start your daily grind. I also have a problem with finding the right adjectives/synonyms to express emotions. I can see my character's facial expressions but how to describe...

It always comes back to time and energy, doesn't it? Can't wait until we can both quit our day jobs! ;)

What is your favorite part about writing?

Writing the kissing scenes, writing 'the end,' accepting a publishing contract, watching my ranking change on  Amazon because of a sale... Writing and publishing is a passion of mine. I love it. If I had to choose ONE thing about writing in particular, I'd have to say it would be creating characters that make ME blush and cheese like a schoolgirl.

 

My publisher is going to release audiobooks soon. How many people listen to the books they 'read'?

Thank you for having me!

Loved having you, Victoria! Thanks for hanging out today!

FROM THE COVERS:

Rafael

AMAZON TOP 100 BESTSELLING MULTICULTURAL ROMANCE

AMAZON UK TOP 100 BESTSELLING RELIGIOUS & INSPIRATIONAL ROMANCE

The last time Detective Genie Green let a man humiliate her was her college sweetheart--never again. Yet, when former high school lothario Rafael Santiago returns to town as the consulting detective on her case, Genie's rule of never allowing another man to best her is challenged. Can she trust him long enough to solve this case and get the glory?

Rafa can't seem to outrun his delinquent past. When The Snakes, a criminal organization he used to belong too, begin murdering people from his hometown, he has a chance to right some of his past wrongs. Will arresting the murderers be enough to redeem him, or will a certain beautiful detective pay the ultimate price instead?

A Christian interracial romantic suspense.

BUY LINKS: Amazon      Barnes & Noble      Astraea Press

Serial Games

FBI profiler Maggie Weston has a reputation for identifying the most gruesome of killers. But her reputation is put on the line when US Marshal Brandon Worth walks into her office with news the one case that haunted her the most, John Michael Burrows, has escaped federal custody. Brandon needs her help; she understands how Burrows thinks and the best tracker on the east coast isn't about to pass up her expertise. Maggie and Brandon have to work together to catch a serial murderer and the closer they get to Burrows, the more their hearts become involved. While insecurities and bitterness threaten a budding relationship between Maggie and Brandon, an elusive killer terrorizes a small Virginia county with a game he plans on winning.

An interracial Christian romance.

BUY LINKS: Amazon      Barnes & Noble       Desert Breeze

Sweet Saturday: Deal or No Deal?

“In that case, Anastasia Trent, if you wish to travel in my carriage, you shall have to buy a seat.”

“Is that so? And what is the going rate for passage in such a broken down third-rate conveyance?”

“It is quite expensive, my dear. I fear you cannot afford it.”

“Then you have grossly misjudged me, Your Grace, for I am a lady of some means.” The sparkle in her eyes spelled mischief and mirth. How he loved her. What had taken him so long to realize it? “Name your price, good man. For I am in desperate need to arrive in London today.”

“Desperate need?” Baldwyn put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Very well. The cost for passage to London this day is one kiss… Payable in advance.” He lowered his head to hers, but she slipped one finger in front of his lips, stopping his forward motion inches from her mouth.

“I have not yet consented to your terms, sir.” A wry smile played on her lips. “I wish to offer a counter.”

“Anastasia,” Baldwyn whispered against her finger. “One does not say she is desperate and then expect to have bargaining power.”

She giggled. “No. No, I suppose not. But will you not hear me out?”

“What is your offer, Princess?” He placed a lingering kiss on the finger that blocked his path to her lips.

She brought her hand down to rest on his chest. “Two. One now…” she rose onto her tiptoes, meeting his lips with her own in a slow, warm caress that he could feel all the way through him. Baldwyn was breathless when she pulled away. “…And the second payable on safe delivery.”

He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “Sweet Anastasia,” he whispered hoarsely. “You have much to learn about bargaining.”

~Two Turtledoves (work in progress)

Meet & Greet: Benedict Devlyn, the Duke of Creighton

Benedict Devlyn

Duke of Creighton

"The Devil Duke"

After the death of his parents, Benedict Devlyn was taken in and raised by his Aunt Agatha, the Dowager Duchess of Durbin. She was strict and insisted on things being done her way. Benedict, however, was a strong-willed child who never liked to do things by the book. And so he came by his nickname, "the Devil Duke" quite honestly by doing exactly whatever pleased him.

A man of rapidly changing tastes, he has had eight different mistresses in the last year, whom he hires as his housekeeper for as long as they can hold his interest.

It should come as no surprise, that he has no intention to marry any time soon. No woman can capture his heart. But his aunt is growing impatient. She will see him married before her time comes, no matter what methods she must employ to see it done. Poor fellow, he won't even know what hit him!

Sweet Saturday: Duty or Desire

“Good evening, Your Grace. It is a lovely party, don’t you agree?” The lady’s melodic voice floated through the haze of whiskey and brandy his brain seemed to be wading through. Did she know him? He vaguely recollected that one did not to speak to a gentleman of polite society unless they had first been introduced.

She could not be more than twenty, and therefore would not have been introduced into society before he had left for Scotland. It was impossible that she knew him, so perhaps he had been so long in Scotland, the rules had changed.

“I suppose it is, if you enjoy these sorts of things,” he managed to say without slurring.

“Do you mean to say you do not like to dance?”she asked, and her expression seemed more than a little crest-fallen.

“Oh, no. I enjoy dancing. It is just that this evening in particular…” How should he explain it? He allowed his gaze to sweep over her as he weighed his response. She was a sweet beauty. Her chestnut tresses were swept up in a becoming fashion, with only a few rebellious tendrils teasing at the back of her slender ivory neck. Her eyes were dreamy dark almonds, fixed in anticipation upon his lips, as though waiting for something—some pearls of wisdom to drip from them.

“Yes, Your Grace?” she prompted. Baldwyn noted her full soft pink lips.

He cleared his throat. And his eyes traced the length of her light gold dress which clung to her every curve…curves in all the right places. Why couldn’t his grandmother have chosen someone who looked like this? Instead, he would be forever chained to a straight-framed girl in pigtails who flung mud balls in order to get his attention.

The thought brought him sailing back to the present conversation. And he remembered his indignation at the prospect of the impending announcement of his engagement.

“This particular evening is the beginning of my destruction,” he finally answered. “My grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Durbin and Evil Incarnate, has—with neither my knowledge nor my consent, mind you—struck a betrothal contract on my behalf with a wretched little wench with a wiry frame and mousy brown hair. No more than a child she is!” It gushed out of him before he knew it was coming.

The lady stared at him with wide dark eyes as though she had been struck. Baldwyn supposed it did sound shocking, coming out with so little concern for proper conversation. He was perhaps more than a little foxed.

“Pardon me, my lady. It’s just that the horrid woman called me back from Scotland rather suddenly, and sprung this news on me just this afternoon. I mean, I hardly know the chit, but what I do know of her, I can tell you, is enough to cause a gentleman to do himself in.”

“I s-see. She…She sounds perfectly dreadful, I’m sure,” the lady said, her voice almost a whisper. She seemed to be recoiling for some reason. Had what he said truly been that shocking?

Baldwyn bit into something gooey spread over a piece of bread and eyed his companion with concern.

“She threw mud balls at me,” he added after a moment.

Her face grew pale in an instant, and she shook her head in horror. Here was a woman who understood exactly how appalling that act had been! He smiled at her to offer some comfort. “It was several years ago, of course. Both my horse and I have since recovered from the trauma,” he said with a hint at humor in his voice, hoping to lighten her burden on his behalf.

The lady did not seem comforted, so he made up his mind to ask her to dance. As he turned to offer his services to her, however, the music stopped and he heard the unmistakable voice of the dowager shatter the peace of the room.

“Lords and ladies…” she began.

Baldwyn’s stomach clenched into a tiny knot, and he regretted eating anything. He glanced at the lady, whose eyes seemed to be scrutinizing his every move.

“It is my pleasure to welcome my grandson, the Duke of Paisley, back to London, and…” She seemed to be drawing the announcement out as long as possible. Probably hoping to prolong his agony. “…to announce his engagement to the lovely Lady Anastasia, daughter of Lord Marks.”

He could feel the blood rushing from his face and pooling in his feet, making them feel like his boots were full of millstones. His ears felt as though they had burst into flame at his grandmother’s announcement.

“Your Grace,” the melodic voice floated to him once more. Baldwyn glanced towards her. “I believe that’s our cue.”

She slipped her slender gloved hand around his arm, and smiled weakly. The reality of what she said sunk in slowly, weaving its way past the whiskey and the brandy and the indignation. Even then his disbelief blinded him, but she forced him to move forward.

Forward to the dreaded fate of being forever fettered to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Friday Favorites: A Lot Like a Lady

Probably one of my favorite Regency romance books is A Lot Like a Lady by Kim Bowman and Kay Springsteen. It's a relatively new release (March 2012). They do such a good job with their characters and developing the relationship between them. The research that went into the story is evident too. Funny situations and humorous secondary characters. Love this one! Not gonna lie, I've read it more than once. Can't wait for the sequel to release!

COVER BLURB:

Ladies’ maid, Juliet Baines has gotten herself into a pickle by agreeing to go to London and taking the place of her mistress and best friend, Annabella Price, stepsister to the Duke of Wyndham. After all, what does a servant know about being a lady? But Juliet soon finds that pretending to be a lady isn’t nearly as hard as guarding her heart against the folly of wanting a man who’s completely out of reach.

Graeme "Grey" Roland Dominick Markwythe, Sixth Duke of Wyndham, approaches his duties as a nobleman with great dedication and meticulous care. And he’s a man who is not easily fooled...except when he tries to convince himself he's not utterly and madly in love with the beautiful imposter who has turned his life upside down. Will society and his responsibilities to his noble status keep him from opening his heart to the woman he loves?

Sweet Saturday: Playing Nursemaid

Anastasia sank into his warm embrace, wishing the moment would never end. His kiss grew more intense, more demanding, drawing her deeper into the haze of longing for him. His hands felt their way to her arms, as if he would lift her again into his embrace. When his fingers tightened around them, a stabbing pain shot straight through her and she flinched against it.

Instantly Baldwyn released her and stumbled backwards, searching her face for signs of injury. Before her very eyes, the cloud of desire dissipated from his, retreating in the face of raw fear, and on the heels of that fear, sparked to life a blaze of hot fury. So sudden was the transformation, she had no time to react before he had drawn an index finger up in front of her face.

“What were you thinking! Have you not been told never to roam the gardens unchaperoned with any man? Were you not concerned for your reputation? For your virtue? Is this the type of daughter Lord Marks has raised?” Baldwyn dropped his hand to his side, clenching it into a fist with evident rage. He began pacing back and forth before her. Anastasia shrank back as he lashed out again. “You, who so brazenly go gallivanting about in the dark with a suave foreigner? What did you expect him to do, pray tell? Out there in the dark! In solitude!”

“Truly, Your Grace, I wasn’t—” she began, but he cut her off with his continued tirade.

“What if I had not happened by? What if I had been inside searching the ballroom for my betrothed and never once thought to look out of doors?”

A lump rose in Anastasia’s throat, and she didn’t dare risk her voice, lest it give away the tears threatening to break through the floodgates. Confusion and fear reigned.

Only a moment ago, he held her in his embrace. Comforting and shielding her from the waking nightmare she had endured. And now—now he derided her for her glaring stupidity. Her naïveté. Scolding her as if she was a mere child.

A mere child in mousy brown pigtails.

“Were you?”

“What?” He stopped in his tracks and swung around to face her.

“Were you?” she repeated.

“Was I what?” he demanded.

“Were you searching for me?” Her heart dared to hope for it.

His reply was an exasperated grunt. Then he pivoted on his heel and stormed from the room bellowing, “It’s not enough that you tear me from my true duty in the dead of winter, but now I must play nursemaid to the infants as well!”

Savage Winter Arriving Today!

Not gonna lie. I'm so excited about this new release by Rachel Van Dyken, which kicks off a new series called Seasons of Paleo. I had the privilege to read and advanced copy of this book, and I can tell you Rachel has outdone herself in yet another genre.

The story, though shorter than many of her books, still has all the trademark Van Dyken style, story, and characters that make her books so enjoyable to read, but it spreads into the fantasy genre in a world of the author's invention, setting the stage beautifully for the next three books in the series.

COVER BLURB:

If they take you, you don't come back. You either die...or wish you had.  The Western Empire was ruthless. The only reason I survived was because he gave his life for me--a life that might as well have been mine, for when they stole his last heartbeats, they silenced my own.  They call me princess, an answer to the prophecy, but I’m nothing more than a prisoner...awaiting my lifelong punishment. Marriage. To the Prince of the East. But it’s the Royal Protector who reminds me of what I lost. He threatens something I never thought I'd have again...my heart.

And check out that cover! Super sweet--love it!

BUY LINKS: Amazon, Astraea Press

If you leave a comment for me with your contact email, I'll enter you into a drawing for a free ecopy of Savage Winter. The drawing will be done on Monday, June 25th, and the winner will be notified and posted that day.

I will warn you though that after you read this novella, you'll be hooked and probably start stalking Rachel's author page for when the next installment is due. To that end, I'll give you the link to her Seasons of Paleo fan page too, so you can "Like" and get all the inside information of her upcoming releases.

Thanks for stopping by!

Sweet Saturday: He Who Wears the Pants

Aunt Latissia had played her hand well. By the time Bridget and her sponsors arrived at the ball, the gossip buzzing in everyone’s ears was Anthony’s interest in footmen.

Bridget scanned the room for the viscount, eventually locating him in her customary hiding place behind the potted plants.

“There you are, my lord,” she said as she joined him. “Hiding?”

“Not at all. I am simply enjoying the beauty of our host’s lovely greenery. It’s not often I have time for such activities.”

“I see. Yes, they are lovely.” She glanced about him on the right and left, then asked with a smirk, “Where is your footman this evening? Home with the children?”

His vengeful glower brought a smile to her lips. And then a playful glint danced in Anthony’s eyes.

“No. In fact, I believe he’s nigh at hand. No doubt sharpening his rapier in case it is needed to defend my honor from anyone who would wish to steal away my virtue.”

“Surely he has nothing to fear in me, my lord. I assure you, my intentions are as pure as the driven snow.”

“Now that is a pity,” Anthony answered, sidling closer.

Bridget could feel her heart leap within her and set off at a hot pace, causing her breath to catch in her chest.

“Would you care to dance, Lady Bridget?” he asked, his gaze boring into her very soul.

“I don’t know if that’s quite the thing, Lord Maddox. After all, you are rather the scandal this evening. And a girl cannot be too careful in situations such as this.”

“I suppose that is true enough, however, somehow I believe your attention can only help us both.”

“Both of us? Correct me if I’m wrong, my lord, but it is not my reputation being mucked about amongst the pigs this night.”

Anthony looked past her with a mischievous grin. “Perhaps you are right, sweeting. It is just as well.”

She regarded him with humorous suspicion. “Oh? And why is that, oh great Adonis?” The nickname seemed to take him off guard for a moment and his gaze returned to meet hers, then dropping the short distance to her mouth. Her lips seemed to warm in anticipation at his mere look.

“You’re not wearing breeches,” he said with a roguish wink. “Ask anyone here. Unless you’re in breeches, you are of no interest to me whatsoever.”

“Is that so? In that case I’m certain Lady Latissia will be only too happy to give up her skirts for you.”

“Of that there is no doubt. But the very thought is enough to put me off completely.” A shiver seemed to run through him. “Which brings us back to the beginning. Since I am no longer chasing footmen, I find myself in dire need of a fair maiden with whom to dance in order to expunge my soiled reputation.”

“And you wish for me to rescue you?”

He took her hand and hooked it around his arm, gazing into her eyes as he did so. “I am desperate for it,” he whispered and led her onto the dance floor.

~ Beguiling Bridget: Waltzing With the Wallflower Book 2

The Redemption of Lord Rawlings - Release Party

Welcome to the Party!

Fortune smiles! Today is release day for two fantastic new titles by Rachel Van Dyken: The long-awaited The Redemption of Lord Rawlings, the third book in the House of Renwick trilogy -- and the new novella Waltzing with the Wallflower, co-written by Rachel Van Dyken and Leah Sanders. And also this week a new release by Kay Springsteen and Kim Bowman, the Regency romance, A Lot Like a Lady. All three titles published by Astraea Press.

The Redemption of Lord Rawlings

Poor, alone, and lost in the rain--Lord Rawlings has no hope for his future, until an unknown lady appears out of nowhere to kiss him and disappear again as mysteriously as she came.

With society against him and time slipping away, there is very little chance Lord Rawlings will be able to find a suitable wife who will accept him in his fallen state, even if money wasn't in short supply.

Is there anyone who will take a chance on him? And in the mean time, will he be able to resist the young siren who so readily throws herself at him at every turn?

Waltzing with the Wallflower

The Season has only just begun, but already Ambrose Benson is bored…until his brother offers him a challenge. Something worthy of his particular talents.

The object: The girl hiding behind the plants—the one in the horrible dress.

The goal: Turn her into the envy of the ton. A lady suitable for a duke.

But there is just something about the lady—in spite of all her social misgivings—something that draws him like a moth to flame and makes him want to waltz with the wallflower.

A Lot Like a Lady

Ladies’ maid, Juliet Baines has gotten herself into a pickle by agreeing to go to London and taking the place of her mistress and best friend, Annabella Price, stepsister to the Duke of Wyndham. After all, what does a servant know about being a lady? But Juliet soon finds that pretending to be a lady isn’t nearly as hard as guarding her heart against the folly of wanting a man who’s completely out of reach.

Graeme "Grey" Roland Dominick Markwythe, Sixth Duke of Wyndham, approaches his duties as a nobleman with great dedication and meticulous care. And he’s a man who is not easily fooled...except when he tries to convince himself he's not utterly and madly in love with the beautiful imposter who has turned his life upside down. Will society and his responsibilities to his noble status keep him from opening his heart to the woman he loves?

Your turn:

Who is your favorite House of Renwick character?

What is your favorite House of Renwick scene?

Leave me your answers below!

A comment will constitute an entry here for a chance to win one of three prizes.
Your choice of an ebook copy of Waltzing with a Wallflower or A Lot Like a Lady.
Winners will be chosen at random on Sunday, April 1st.


Wonder where to go next? Try Delicious Romance by Rachel OR Whispers from a Book for more chances to win in the Release Party Giveaway.

Still want more? Check out a review of Rawlings!
OR Excerpts from A Lot Like a Lady!
MORE Lady Excerpts by the talented Kay Springsteen and Kim Bowman

Sweet Saturday: Waltzing with a Wallflower

This week's excerpt comes from Waltzing with a Wallflower, a story co-authored with Rachel Van Dyken (author of the USA Today Bestseller Ugly Duckling Debutante).

One of my favorite scenes from the book (from one of Rachel's chapters):

Ambrose laughed, but it was hollow. Just what was his brother getting at? “You want me to choose a woman based on….”

“Need. I want you to choose a woman based on need. What woman needs to be the toast—needs to be saved from scandal? Needs to find a wealthy husband? What woman deserves it?”

“Not that I’m known to be the vainer of the two of us.” Ambrose grinned. “But I could turn the Dowager of Marsaille into the most sought after woman in London, and you know it.” As if on cue the elderly lady laughed sending shivers throughout Ambrose’s body. The men gave each other a look of disdain.

“Of course I do, so you shouldn’t have any trouble with her.” Anthony pointed to the other side of the ballroom where several potted plants stood lining the wall.

“A plant? You want me to turn a plant into the toast of the ton?” Ambrose asked confused and simultaneously wondering how much champagne Anthony had already consumed.

“No, I want you to turn her into the toast of the ton.” He pointed again.

Ambrose rubbed his eyes straining to see what his brother was pointing to. “Do you see her, Wilde?”

Wilde shook his head, then paled. “Anthony, are you sure this is a good idea? Say, Ambrose, why don’t we go to the tables and—”

“—Where the devil is she?! I don’t see a thing. All I see is Lady Markham drinking her weight in sherry and the little chit in that God-awful green…um, yellow… what color is that dress? Oh—” he said all in the same breath. “Her? You want her to be the toast of the ton?”

“I think the color you’re looking for is putrid,” Wilde said in a helpful tone.

Ambrose cursed, ignoring his friend.

“Her name is Lady Cordelia.”

“I know her bloody name, Anthony. What game do you play at? She bloody well blends into the wall! The plant looks more inviting than the girl standing next to it!”

All three men watched as the lady in question appeared to be frozen, nay, paralyzed in her place. She gave the word wallflower a new meaning. Ambrose tilted his head to the side; surely she would look more inviting from another angle. After waiting several seconds, he gave up and cursed. Then he saw Anthony and Wilde doing the exact same thing.

“Doesn’t help,” he muttered, reaching for another glass of champagne. “Well, Anthony, you have outdone yourself.”

“So I have.” Anthony rubbed his hands together. “Shall we gain you an introduction?”

Back to the Sweet Saturday list.

Flirting with Love: It's All About the Romance Blog Hop Tour (Feb. 24-26)

FLIRTING WITH LOVE: IT'S ALL ABOUT THE ROMANCE BLOG HOP TOUR (FEB 24-26)

TOUR RULES:

1) HAVE FUN!!!



2) INVITE ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS!!! SPREAD THE WORD!!!


3) THIS TOUR STARTS: Friday, February 24 (Arizona Time)


THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, February 26, at Midnight (Arizona Time)

Winners will be drawn and posted February 27th! ***


4) MEET AND MINGLE WITH ALL THE AUTHORS AND BOOK PAGES! EXPERIENCE A NEW PARTY DESTINATION AT EVERY STOP! PARTICIPATE IN EVERY BLOG CONTEST AND BE ENTERED FOR CHANCES TO WIN MULTIPLE PRIZES! EVERY BLOG VISITED IS ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY TO WIN!!

5) PARTICIPATION AT ALL BLOGS IS RECOMMENDED, BUT NOT REQUIRED. REMEMBER, THE MORE BLOGS YOU HOP, THE BETTER YOUR CHANCES OF WINNING PRIZES. EVERY AUTHOR AND BOOK PAGE IS WAITING TO MEET AND INTERACT WITH YOU, SO PLEASE BE SURE TO SHOW EVERYONE SOME LOVE!


6) DID I MENTION TO HAVE FUN? WHOO! HOO!! HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOO!

***Authors have full discretion to choose an alternate winner in the event any winner fails to claim their prize(s) within 72 hours of their name being posted or after notification of win, whichever comes first. Anyone who participates in this blog hop tour is subject to these rules***

Sometimes when writing romance, you have to also write the hard stuff. The things in life that aren't extremely romantic, but more realistic. The things that are real. In my latest novel The Sacred Ring, young Kenyan struggles with the idea that his parents once perfect marriage is crumbling at his very feet. 

A stroke of genius hits, and he is soon on his way to discovering the one object that he believes will keep his parents together--Saint Valentines Ring! 

Here is the blurb:

Nothing in Kynan Murphy's life is going right. His grades are horrible, he's always in trouble, and the girl he likes doesn't know he exists. But things go from bad to worse when his parents tell him they have decided to split up. Angry and confused, he wants nothing more than to lash out against the world. The closest thing he can find, however, is the Saint Valentine shrine during a school field trip. Armed with some fireworks and encouraged by his best friend, Michael Connell, he's all set to vent his frustration with life.

His best laid plans fail when a mysterious priest confronts him, sharing an ancient secret about a hidden ring with special powers. Kynan believes the answer to all his problems and the only way to fix his parents' broken marriage is to find the ring — a task he won't be able to accomplish on his own.

It was easy enough to convince his friend Michael to join him, but the irritating Brianna Collins insists on tagging along. Fortunately, her knack for language and interest in history is a valuable asset in the search. Their quest leads them to the northern coast and into dangerous territory where, in spite of theirgood intentions, they may lose their own lives.

But what if the true love, no matter how difficult is really the type of thing you like to read? My latest romance novella "The Parting Gift," deals with love and loss, and yes a lot of romance. Come on, who doesn't think a pilot in uniform is sexy?

Meet Blaine Graham, the confident hero of "The Parting Gift," who can't seem to forgive his father for the wrongs done to him as a boy.

It takes one womans love to bring him back.

With her forgiveness and care, he can finally become the man he was created to be. He can finally be whole.

Blaine Graham lost his mother at the tender age of eleven. Grief over the loss drove a wedge between him and his father, and soon proved too difficult for him to deal with. At the age of sixteen, he falsified his papers and made the trip across the border into Canada with his best friend to join the Royal Canadian Air Force and enter the war in Europe as a pilot. Ten years later Captain Graham finds himself flying commercial jets in Boston – his estranged father and his past life all but forgotten, until the day he receives a telegram from his dying father asking him to come home.

The persistent Mara Crawford, a live-in nurse, has experienced her fair share of loss as well. Her attachment to Blaine’s father drives her desire to bring reconciliation between the two men before time runs out for her patient. But her best laid plans didn’t include falling in love again.

Contest!

1. Follow my blog and find me on Facebook: Leah Sanders

2. Leave a comment with your name and email, you don't necessarily have to comment about anything in particular, I just need your info to put you in the drawing!

GRAND PRIZE:

A copy of both The Sacred Ring and The Parting Gift

1st and 2nd Place

A copy of your choice of The Parting Gift or Sacred Ring 

Need to go back to the linky list? Click HERE

Sweet Saturday: Saint's Ransom

Elias felt a hand on his forearm. “Will you walk with me, monsieur? I am in need of fresh air,” Pepiot’s daughter asked. He nodded.

“With pleasure, mademoiselle.” He offered his elbow and she hooked her thin gloved hand into the crook of his arm. 

Out in the garden, the sun was disappearing behind the horizon, painting the darkening sky in hues of orange and pink. A translucent crescent moon hung just over the trees. The soft breeze played with the wayward strands of Jaime’s dark curls along her ivory neck. Elias led her down the path into the garden maze, sauntering slowly and silently, unwilling to break the spell of the sultry night falling around them.

She spoke first. “Tell me of your country. Are there nights like these?”

Her eyes reflected the sunset. “Morocco is a land of great mystery. And it is hot.”

With a raised eyebrow, she glanced at him sideways. “Ah,” she mocked. “A romantic description… How will I know if I would like to travel there someday if you do not describe it to me properly?”

“It is not a place for a woman such as yourself, mademoiselle.”

“Would you care to explain that, monsieur?”

Elias spied a garden bench and led her to it. As they sat, he expounded. “To begin, women wear far more – clothes.” He waved at her in a sweeping gesture from her head down to her toes.

She glanced down at her own attire. “Is there something wrong with my wardrobe?”

“No, mademoiselle. It very much becomes you. But in Morocco there are laws. Laws which require a woman to be covered, to save her from the marauding eyes of men – and to save the men from desiring that which does not belong to them.” He was careful not to look at her as he spoke.

“I see. Does it bother you then? To see women uncovered, as you say?”

And here is where he made his first grave mistake, for when he turned back to her and met her gaze, his heart leapt within his chest and rose to his throat, choking the words from him. Elias must have appeared to have something incredibly interesting to say, because the lady leaned in expectantly, awaiting his reply.

Her eyes imploring dark almonds, her full lips red and inviting, and her creamy white velvet skin – so much skin, tantalizing him into submission. He would keep up his charade of servant-hood indefinitely if it meant forever with her.

To his credit, he did try to stop himself, but in the end his hands betrayed him and moved independently of his will. Before either of them knew what was happening he had removed his gloves, and his hands impulsively cupped her face – the fairness of her skin fairly glowed in contrast to his dark complexion.

The feel of her smooth flesh against his hands spurred him forward, and he pulled her face to him and crushed her lips greedily with his own. In the back of his mind a still small voice whispered, If you are caught, you are as good as dead.

He answered the voice with a thought of his own, Ah, but without her, what difference does it make?

So intense was his passion, so imbibed with an overwhelming fog of desire, Elias could not say how she had responded. His mind was in a haze as he drew back from her.

Therefore, he did not see it coming.

Not until her tiny gloved hand burned across his face in a scorching blur of fury did he realize perhaps he had overstepped his bounds.