Interview Marisa Dillon & The Golden Rose of Scotland
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Marisa Dillon and The Golden Rose of Scotland, Book Two of Lore Series! Pssst… Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter for your chance to win! Lets get started with a few questions for Marisa!
What defines you as an author? Thanks for hosting me on your blog today. With so many romance books available, I appreciate platforms like yours that allow me to share directly with readers what makes my books desirable. I often describe myself as the Dan Brown of the Romance Genre. Those who are familiar with “The Da Vinci Code” know that it’s a page turner and almost impossible to put down. That’s one of the goals of my stories. I frame this as writing “Romantic Adventures Not for the Faint of Heart.” As a person? I’d have to admit I love adventure and traveling the world. I recently took a trip to India for a pilgrimage. Readers of my books will also find references to fortune telling and a little bits of magic. The esoteric sciences fascinate me and I’ve always been drawn to ways to look at the future through rune stones, tarot cards, and physic readings. In many ways what defines me as an author also defines me as a person.
What do you like to do when you are not writing? My life is unconventional in many ways. I often joke that I would never be elected for public office. I’m a professional marketing consultant by day, but outside of being a romance author, I’m also a performer. On weekends I can often be found entertaining audiences with belly Dance, Bollywood or classic Indian dance at local cultural fairs and festivals.
You’ve got a time machine, a cloak of invisibility, and one hour. Where would you go, and what eavesdropping would you do? Wow, what fun that would be. For me King Arthur’s Round Table and Gwenivere’s bedroom. Just imagine the stories I could tell from that eavesdropping. However, I would never reveal what was fact or fiction. Their secrets would be safe with me.
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closed her eyes, trying not to panic, and took in a long, calming breath, until
Lachlan squeezed the air right out of her and she started gasping.
a little lower, my love. With this kind doctoring . . .”
me go,” she demanded, interrupting whatever suggestive words he had for her.
She squirmed against his hold. “You don’t understand.”
I know is that one moment I’m winning a horse race against the bishop, and the
next you are in my arms.” He gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “You are a
gift from God. The bishop knew what I needed to be right again.”
teeth, you are not right in the head,” she said, her tone more irritated than
she meant. “God would not punish me to make you whole.”
wasn’t sure if it was her words or her wiggling that had the desired result,
but after a few moments of pushing against him, she broke free.
up from Lachlan’s chest, Rosalyn smoothed her tousled hair away from her eyes,
then with a tsk, she adjusted her bodice back in place.
she gazed down, wondering why he’d given up so easily, Rosalyn was greeted by a
placid Lachlan, looking very much like he was asleep.
wanted to slap him and tell him to quit pretending. But then she noticed his
heavy breathing and relaxed, almost angelic, face.
angelic? A hero? No wonder Ursula had looked at her as if she’d joined the
ranks of the jesters. Where had her sensibilities gone? Was it that disarming
smile?
then, the wagon jolted forward and began to move, rocking her onto his chest
again. As much as it flustered her, this time he did not grab her. Instead, he
lay still, her body rising and falling rhythmically with his breathing. This
time she was able to move away at will.
poison.
No doubt it was giving him some lucid moments between bouts of delirium. As she
gazed down at the peaceful, sleeping aristocrat, she was reminded of her
dislike of everything English. Could she make an exception for Lachlan? Was she
going all soft on him because of his one kind gesture? But she sobered when she
considered the consequences of her actions without his intervention.
now, she would try to like him until he did something to change her mind. At
least until she saved him.
back on her heels, Rosalyn touched his forehead to check for fever. She was
grateful to find him cool now, but she was still concerned. Ursula had said
she’d made the poison strong enough to make him sick, not kill him. Could she
trust her?
Rosalyn headed to the low altar and busied herself preparing the herbs,
thankful that she was able to do this alone and not under the eagle-eyed
scrutiny of Ursula.
the herbs, it didn’t take her long to find the other items she needed stored
neatly under the altar’s skirting: a pestle and mortar, and a flask of water.
She unwrapped the bishop’s herbs from the fuchsia silk and laid them out.
pinches of valerian, horehound, and sage, she placed them in the mortar, then
added a few drops of water. Using the pestle, she formed a sticky paste. Once
satisfied with the concoction, she headed back to Lachlan’s side, on a mission
to save him.
she whispered, “wake up.”
groaned and flipped over on his side facing her.
She tried the nickname he’d asked her to use, hoping it might illicit a better
response.
What?
she lied. “It’s Ursula. I want you to eat something.”
No!” He almost shouted the response.
he refused the antidote?
was her enemy now, and she couldn’t wait until his constitution changed. She
glanced about the tidy wagon trying to figure out how to feed him the herbs.
Nothing. No bread or fruit to use as a serving tool. Stumped for a moment, she
relaxed her breathing and began to sort through what might make Lachlan open
his mouth.
deciding saving his life was more important that her squeamishness, Rosalyn
scooped up some of the paste on to her middle finger, then she lay down on the
floor facing him.
his arm was draped under his head, she was able to scoot right next to his
chest and get close enough to suit her needs. Once situated, she said a little
prayer, asking God to let the herb and his power save Lachlan.
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Historical Romance, Marisa Dillon, Philosophers Stone, Poisonings, The Golden Rose of Scotland by Tena Stetler with comments disabled.
