by Sarah | Mar 16, 2014 | Books, Changing Tracks, Tuesday Tales, Writing
Welcome back to Tuesday Tales! This weeks prompt is Nudge.
Oops. I had every single intention of continuing Natural Selection for you folks, but I sort of unintentionally wrote the prompt somewhere else first. Rather than interrupt my forward progress on what will be a (lowcost/freebie) story starter, I figured I’d roll with it.
So this is part of Kat’s as-yet untitled story. Kat is a character from my Dominion Falls series with an interesting back story of her own. This section is the beginning of Part 2 of her story. Part was was titled “Runaway” – Part 2 is titled “Awakening. In this part, Katherine ran away three years ago, but after her runaway did nothing intentionally to draw attention to herself. She went from one life of propriety into another. Fear and guilt kept her initial rebellion quelled.
Until her eighteenth birthday, where the fire inside is reawakened when she’s forced by contract to find her own way. She begins to plot a way to find her own way, and who to use to do just that:
Katherine leaned on her hand and sighed. Rather than run the numbers she’d been handed, she stared at the door as if it would make something happen.
“Psst.” Melanie nudged Katherine in the side. “There he is again. Like clockwork.”
Katherine straightened in her seat as the gentleman Melanie pointed at removed his hat and scanned the bay of windows. The particular bank Katherine worked in employed all women to handle the everyday transactions, while the men handled the larger business of the bank.
All rumor indicated that Mr. Patrick Warner came to this bank religiously for that reason alone. Rumor also said he’d wooed, corrupted, and then broke the heart of every woman that dared to catch his eye.
Katherine didn’t pull her gaze away when he glanced her direction, as she had for the past two weeks. “Perhaps he’ll visit my window today. I heard tell he’s left Marjorie bereft, so he’ll be looking for a new woman.”
“Katherine Marie, you can’t be serious.” Melanie gasped and set about rearranging the stamps on her desk. “He’s broken the heart of every woman he’s approached.”
“That’s because they were hoping for love and marriage to be taken away from this so-called horrible life as a worker. I, however, have no designs for the life of a wife.” Granted, Katherine had yet to achieve the freedom she’d left Dominion Falls to find three years ago. While Cole’s guidance had taken her to a home and a steady job, for which she was grateful, she’d yet to really find the freedom she’d sought. She’d never been left wanting for food or shelter, but she wanted more. Travel, excitement, and maybe even men.
Just a month ago she’d turned eighteen and, as per her agreement with the woman that had taken her in, Katherine had needed to find a job of her own and living arrangements. She’d managed to find room in a woman’s boarding house and the job at this bank.
Still, she was doing everything she was supposed to, as she was supposed to. With her coming of age, she wanted more. Before she turned spinster, she was curious as to what lay beyond propriety, and she hungered for life beyond her job and the city of Chicago. If she had to start anywhere, why not with learning about sex with a man skilled enough to corrupt numerous proper young ladies as Mr. Warner had?
“Katherine.” Melanie set her hand on Katherine’s arm. “He’s a rake.”
“I know full well what he is.” Kat smiled at the man whose eye she planned to catch, as he spoke with one of the men in the lobby. “Perhaps if he knows what I’m after, we can come to an agreement. After all, the only thing I wish is what he’s rumored to be quite skilled at.”
Deep red hues flooded Melanie’s features, and she shook her head. “It isn’t decent.”
“I’ve been decent for too long.” Katherine had kept her head down and done what she should out of fear her parents would locate her and drag her home if she drew too much attention. At eighteen, the fear was subsiding and the burning need for more that had first flamed to light in Dominion Falls now burned bright again.
Before Melanie could protest further, Patrick approached Katherine’s window. His smile broadened with every step closer he took.
Katherine brushed an unruly curl back into place and returned his smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Warner.”
“Good afternoon. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, and I don’t know yours.” He slid his transaction across the desk.
“I’m Katherine.” She didn’t bother with a last name, though it would be the proper thing to do. “And it wasn’t a disadvantage. I believe you enjoy allowing your reputation to precede you, Mr. Warner.”
“I believe you’re right, Kat.”
She smiled at the nickname, one no one had dared to call her before. Once his transaction was complete, she quirked at brow at his continued presence at her window. “Was there anything else, Mr. Warner?”
“You’re new here.”
“I’ve been employed here for three weeks. Long enough.”
“Long enough for what?”
Katherine shrugged. “To have learned some things.”
“Perhaps we could discuss those things outside of the bank?” He leaned on the counter and flashed a charming smile. “Over supper?”
“No, supper won’t do.” She grinned when he straightened in surprise. “I wouldn’t mind a walk. I have a proposition for you, and it is best discussed discreetly.”
His surprise melted into a wicked grin. “I’m intrigued. For that alone, I’ll take you up on the offer. When shall we have this stroll?”
“Are you free this evening?”
“I can be for one so bold.”
“Then at five, right outside.”
“I look forward to it, Kat.”
“Me too, Mr. Warner.”
*~*
Hope you enjoyed it! Click on the Tuesday Tales badge to see more excellent entries!!
by Sarah | Mar 15, 2014 | Books, Holiday, WeWriWa, Writing
Welcome back to the Weekend Writing Warriors!
This week we switch to Tag’s point of view. After all, we already know Michaela is lusting after the former jail-bait-turned-21 year old. What does he think about Michaela?
Here he is with his aunt Myrtle, who runs The Diner. He’s just told her he turned in his application at The Midway. Myrtle speaks first:
“What did Mikey have to say?”
“Ugh. I hate that nickname.” He wrinkled his nose and sat at the counter. “She looks nothing like someone named Mikey. She’s sure not a tomboy; she’s all elegant and womanly.”
“That so?” Her brow arched and her lips twitched. “Are you crushing on an older woman?”
*~*
| Amazon | SCP | BN | ARe |
Michaela O’Keefe is in over her head with her restaurant, The Midway. Her ad for an assistant manager brings Owen “Tag” Montague to her doorstep. With an impeccable resume and dozens of letters of recommendation, she has little choice but to give him a chance. Ten years her junior, Tag sets her long-dead libido humming, but she gave up on love and her instincts on men years ago.
Tag has had a crush on his new boss since his youth, but he’s determined to prove he can do the job. Still, he can’t resist the urge to make her blush down to her toes as often as possible. He knows her rough past in life and love makes it hard to trust, and he’s wary of crossing the line he so desperately wants to.
Just when they manage to figure out how to work and play together, Michaela’s ex does all he can to destroy their budding love. When push comes to shove Michaela’s inability to give Tag the benefit of the doubt might destroy everything.
Learning to trust herself again is the hardest lesson Michaela will ever have to learn – and by the time she does, it may be too late for love.
*~*
Head back on over to the Weekend Writing Warriors to read many more wonderful offerings!
by Sarah | Mar 14, 2014 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Saturday Spotlight, Writing
| [amazon_link id=”B00IO93SGM” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | BN | ARe | Kobo |
Blurb:
Katharine Cavanaugh, the Countess of Stirling, has always lived according to the expectations of her heritage. American mercenary Matthew Thatcher has spent his life running away from every expectation he has for himself. But when their latest mission from the British War Office goes wrong, trapping them behind enemy lines, they must decide if they dare to realize the greatest expectation of all: the expectation of love.
*~*
Excerpt:
Naples, Italy
April 1815
Sunlight struck him full in the face as he emerged from the grated door of their prison and into the bustling streets of a port city on the Mediterranean Sea. As soon as his feet hit the cobblestone, he dodged to the left, tucking Kate behind him as a cart laden with crates of olives passed just in front of the toes of his boots.
Kate pressed against his back, her heart beating a tattoo into the muscles there. He felt a corresponding ripple in other parts of his body and swallowed to focus on the task at hand. They needed to get away from the prison and the authorities that had brought them there. They needed to find a place to hide until they could regain their composure and perhaps find some suitable clothes for Kate, even if she did make a fetching bar wench.
“Get in the cart.”
Thatcher looked quickly to his right at the cart that had just passed them as if the voice had come from the olives themselves. But knowing that could not be right, he looked up to the bench. A small, squat man, thick through the middle and thin at the limbs hovered like a forgotten presence on the worn bench of the rickety cart. Surely, it was him who had spoken the words, for in the bustle around them, no other person was close enough to utter such words with such clarity for Thatcher to hear.
And the man had spoken in English.
Thatcher turned long enough to scoop Kate into his arms, and together, he launched them into the back of the cart, landing precariously between the rows of olive crates. The cart lurched forward before his body settled onto the boards of the cart, and Kate’s unbelievable warmth came to rest against the full length of his body. He let out a rush of air that had nothing to do with escape and possible pursuit. It was a rush of pure male lust that exited his lungs and with it, his last hope of keeping his hands off of the woman who now lay sprawled across his body.
She struggled against him, likely trying to gain purchase and find a space for herself where there was none in the cart. Thatcher stilled her with his hands a little too far down on her hips, the tattered skirts of her costume having ridden up to her knees, trapping her legs between his. Her head came up, and he stared into hazel eyes, murky with a mystery he could not wait to solve.
“Better relax, my friend. I think we’re going for a ride,” he said, letting his hands slip just a little more down her hips.
And that was when he saw it. The flash of responding desire in those hazel depths that brought a corresponding flicker from his own awareness.
She wanted him.
She may not know that she wanted him, but there, pressed against each other between crates of olives in a cart that was likely to collapse before safely rescuing them away from their captors, driven by a man they did not know and could possibly have nefarious connections, Matthew Thatcher knew that a lusty bar wench wanted him. And not just any lusty bar wench.
Katharine Cavanaugh, the Countess of Stirling.
And for the first time in days, he smiled.
*~*
Bio:
In the second grade, Jessie began a story about a duck and a lost ring. Two harrowing pages of wide ruled notebook paper later, the ring was found. And Jessie has been writing ever since.
Armed with the firm belief that women in the Regency era could be truly awesome heroines, Jessie began telling their stories in her Spy Series, a thrilling ride in historical espionage that showcases human faults and triumphs and most importantly, love.
Jessie makes her home in the great state of New Hampshire where she lives with her husband and a very opinionated Basset Hound. For more, visit jessieclever.com.
by Sarah | Mar 13, 2014 | Book Release, Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
| Amazon | BN | Kobo | iBooks | ARe | SCP |
Blurb:
Sheilagh McCullough has been pretending to be someone else her entire life. When she takes her rebellious act too far, her overbearing brothers decide it’s time for her to grow up and face her future. After six years of procrastination and parties, Sheilagh is finally going to college.
Dr. Alec Devereux is an ethical man, but when Sheilagh McCullough enrolls in his class, his morals as a professor are put to the test. Brilliant, tenacious, and a contradiction to herself in so many ways, Alec is enchanted by his new student and unable to resist temptation. Persistent and logical, Alec unravels the mysterious woman who has captured his heart only to discover the greatest threat to their future might be her past.
A courageous journey of the soul that confronts one woman’s fears of love and embraces the truth in her heart.
Excerpt:
“You have no right!”
“Shut up!” the three of them shouted at once.
Her eyes prickled with unshed tears as they drove. Under the passing shadows she saw each one of them staring away from her, fury stamped into their set jaws. She kicked the seat in front of her and Tristan grunted.
After she discovered Luke and Tristan’s affair, Tristan handled her with kid gloves. Sheilagh didn’t want his pity. She was tougher than that. She was a McCullough, for Christ’s sake. She had five crazy brothers and she could hold her own with every single one of them.
The farther they drove out of town, the more self-doubt crept in. “Where are we going?”
No one answered. The commercial storefronts faded away as Kelly turned the SUV onto the highway leading out of town. As they took the jug handle onto the interstate her concern doubled. Their anger was so thick it seemed to siphon the air right out of the car.
Her concern for herself doubled as her eyes rapidly blinked back tears, forcing those telling little spills to stay put where others couldn’t see. Her entire existence focused on hiding those telltale signs of weakness from the world.
She hated that her stupid, childish heart was permanently damaged and her life derailed. Since the day she’d discovered Luke and Tristan, she’d been going at the world like a runaway train, making one poor choice after another and leaving nothing but self-destruction in her wake. It was the only way she knew to control the pain, control herself. But in truth, over the last few years she felt out of control and with every stupid transgression came another reason to hate herself.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever be normal again. She wasn’t breaking hearts, just breaking herself, battering pieces of her broken heart, little by little, with each poor decision.
Suddenly the car swerved. She slammed into Luke and he pushed her off. Gravel spewed under the tires as Kelly tore onto the shoulder and threw the SUV in park.
It was dark and no one said a word. Fear tickled her spine. Why were they there? It was completely dark and eerie and she wondered if this was their version of some kind of confessional.
The sound of their breathing sawed out of their lungs and she waited. Luke, of course, broke the silence. “Are you out of your god damn mind?”
She turned to unleash the fury inside of her. “Oh, shut up, Luke! You have no right to pass judgment on me!”
Kelly swiveled in his seat, his blue eyes boring into her through the dark. “What did you suspect people would do after you bared your titties for the town? Praise you? Christ, Sheilagh, use your fucking head!”
“Like you have any room to talk, Kelly! There isn’t a woman in Center County who hasn’t seen your wank!”
“And do you think I didn’t pay a price for my actions, Sheilagh?” Kelly stormed.
No, she didn’t. Kelly lived the high life and still managed to find his soul mate. No one in this car had a right to even pretend they understood what it felt like to be invisible.
“It’s like the sheep fucker!” Kelly snarled and turned toward the windshield.
What? “What?”
“Shamus the sheep fucker!” her brother snapped. “The old Irishman in the bar that built the church and sailed the sea, but no one remembers that because he fucked one sheep.”
“No one’s fucking a sheep, you moron!”
“Well, what do you think people would say if you started stripping? You wouldn’t be Sheilagh the beautiful McCullough or Sheilagh the genius. No, you’d only be Sheilagh the stripper. Do you want that kind of reputation?”
She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared out the window.
Tristan turned. “Why would you do this, Shei?”
She blinked repeatedly. Because no one notices me anymore. Forcing an expression of indifference, she shrugged. “Why not?”
“You’re better than that. You know you are,” he said in a soft voice.
She didn’t know what to say back. Maybe she wasn’t better than that. Maybe that’s all she was meant to be, a stripper in some Podunk town.
Luke wouldn’t look at her, but she still heard him growl. “This is bullshit. When are you going to grow up?”
She pivoted and turned her glare on him. “Me? How about you, Luke? When are you going to grow up? You have an awful lot to say about how everyone lives their life, when you don’t have the balls to let the world see who you really are!”
The car grew deathly silent. Kelly said her name in warning and she snapped. “No! I’m sick of it! Just say it! Say it!”
“What do you want me to say?” Luke roared.
Tristan’s stare cut to her and she felt a pinch of regret much like the lament she saw in his eyes. Why couldn’t they just come out and let everyone know they were in love?
“This isn’t about Luke,” Tristan said quietly. “It never was. I’m sorry, Sheilagh. I know this isn’t what you asked for, but sometimes life is unfair.”
She fumed as she glared back at him. “I wanna go home.”
No one said anything for quite some time. “You’re going away,” Kelly finally announced.
“What?”
“You’re going to college. There’s nothing for you here and you know it. It’s time for you to get on with your life and make something of yourself.”
Author Bio:
Bestselling author, Lydia Michaels, writes all forms of hot romance. She presses the bounds of love and surprises readers just when they assume they have her stories figured out. From Amish vampyres, to wild Irishmen, to broken heroes, and heroines no man can match, Lydia takes readers on an emotional journey of the heart, mind, and soul with every story she pens. Her books are intellectual, erotic, haunting, always centered on love.
Lydia Michaels loves to hear from readers! She can be contacted by email at Lydia@LydiaMichaels.org
Webpage: www.LydiaMichaels.org
Other Titles by Lydia Michaels:
[amazon_link id=”B00BSY6UAQ” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Falling In[/amazon_link][amazon_link id=”B00BSY6UE2″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Breaking Out[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00CLFCOVA” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Coming Home[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00DU10GW8″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Sacred Waters[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00ESLV1DW” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Skin[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00ICOXAI0″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Chaste[/amazon_link]
Faking It
Forsaking Truth (Coming Soon)
As Tears Go By (Coming Soon)
[amazon_link id=”B00G9Q09S2″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Simple Man[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00CRJ0K0M” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Breaking Perfect[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B0092T5OGK” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]White Chocolate[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B009NLIQ6C” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]All 4 You[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00AY4T8KA” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]To Catch a Wolfe[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00BSEWZY6″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Chasing Feathers[/amazon_link]
Called to Order
Calling for a Miracle
Destiny Calls
[amazon_link id=”B00HQ5N82O” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Call Her Mine[/amazon_link]
McCullough Mountain: Family Tree
by Sarah | Mar 12, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Thursday Tell All, Writing
- What is your story?
I’m the heir to a banking empire headquartered in Boston. I met the love of my life before I was old enough to accept that’s who she was. I lost her and spent the last few years looking for her.
- Do you have any special strengths?
I have the ability to go after what I want with single-minded determination until I get it.
- Do you have any special weaknesses?
Unfortunately, that strength could be considered a weakness if what I want and what I need are two different things.
- Did you ever meet any other family members? Who were they? What did you think of them?
My father died when I was very young so I don’t remember very much about him. He was a banker, a very important man so he was always dressed well. He was very stern. I don’t think I ever remember seeing him smile. But he loved my mother. I remember he would bring home a flower to her every day, even in winter. I always thought he was a magician, until I grew up and realized that anything could be bought, even in winter.
- What is your worst childhood memory?
The day my father died. I wasn’t there when it happened, but I remember coming home to see my mother sitting in the front parlor. It’s where she would wait for him every afternoon. She already knew. I didn’t know yet, but the look on her face was terrifying. I’d never seen it look so empty, so devoid of anything. You have to understand, my mother is a talker and very animated. It was so unlike her to be so still. I still remember that moment.
- What is more important – sex or intimacy? Why?
For a long time I thought sex was more important. Where I come from women only want two things from me: my name and my money. If they can’t have the first, they’re more than happy to enjoy the second. I never thought intimacy, real intimacy, was possible. The one time I caught a glimpse of it…it scared the hell out of me. Now I know better.
- What’s the worst thing you’ve done to someone you loved?
- What one act in your past are you most ashamed of? What one act in your past are you most proud of?
Leaving Charity is both the worst thing I’ve done to someone and the one act I’m most ashamed of. I ran from her love because I was a coward, I was afraid. I didn’t even have a good reason.
I’m most proud of the work I’ve done to bring my uncle to justice.
- What trait do you find most admirable, and how often do you find it?
Honesty. I’ve found that very few people are actually capable of it.
- What one word best describes you?
Determined
- How private of a person are you? Why?
I’m a very private person. I’m a Davenport, so people have always expected me to play a certain role. Playboy, gambler. When I was younger, I found it easier to play along than to allow them to know the real me.
- What would you wish for if you found a genie?
I don’t make wishes. I prefer to make things happen.
*~*~*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00GPDYNRW” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | BN |
Blurb:
Montana Territory, 1887
Heiress-turned-outlaw Charity Blake is determined to get back the fortune the Davenport banking family took from her father—even if she has to hold Brent Davenport ransom to do it! After all, the seductive charmer stole something even more valuable from her five years ago: her heart. But once she has Brent in chains, Charity must face the fact that her desire for the man has grown from the sweet dreams of a young girl to the unquenchable passion of a woman. And soon it’s not clear whether she’s the captor, or the captive….
Excerpt:
“Don’t worry, folks. We ain’t here for yer valuables, just the money in the vault.” Charity’s contrived accent came out deep and loud to make it past the muffling barrier of the scarf covering the lower half of her face and to hide her cultured Bostonian intonation.
As she spoke, her partners took their appointed positions. Elle had come in through the back door and quietly made her presence known, while Dew moved to disarm the men in the room, quickly establishing a stack of revolvers in the far corner.
“Get up and open the vault.” Charity barked the order to the manager.
He sputtered for a moment as if he might argue and looked at the customer sitting across the desk from him. Had she not been watching so closely, Charity would have missed the almost imperceptible nod from the man that gave the manager the courage to get on his feet. Hands still in the air, he walked his wiry frame to the vault, which sat in plain view behind the row of clerks, and stopped there, afraid to proceed.
“Th-the key is on my belt.” He explained, hands still in the air. His gaze went from her to the customer left sitting at his desk.
Charity followed his gaze and found herself looking at a broad pair of shoulders encased in a fine wool coat. The coat was impeccably tailored, not the roughspun typically found this far outside of the town of Helena. A banking official was her first thought, but that didn’t explain why her heart was suddenly threatening to pound out of her chest and the blood had gone cold in her veins. The girl who had long ago been banished to areas deep in her subconscious had already recognized the set of those shoulders. She knew that thick, sable hair brushed back in a style that had been entirely too long for Boston society but was a trademark of his contemptuous nature.
*~*
Author bio
Harper St. George was raised in the rural backwoods of Alabama and along the tranquil coast of northwest Florida. It was a setting filled with stories of the old days that instilled in her a love of history, romance, and adventure. By high school, she had discovered the historical romance novel which combined all of those elements into one perfect package. She has been hooked ever since.
She lives in Atlanta, GA with her husband and two young children. Look for her short story in the upcoming Romance Writers of America anthology. She would love to hear from you. Please visit her website at harperstgeorge.com.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/harperstgeorge
Twitter: @HarperStGeorge
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/harperstgeorge
Welcome back to Tuesday Tales! This weeks prompt is Nudge.
