Barbara Bettis Author of The Lady of the Forest

Give a warm welcome to Barbara Bettis, author of  The Lady of the Forest!

Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, or I have fresh made lemonade on the counter. There are Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie on the plate, and let’s find out a little about Barbara and Lord Henry of Chauvere!

Lord Henry of Chauvere, tells us about the real you

Well, Lady Tena, my life’s an open book, no pun intended.

What event in your past has left the most indelible impression on you?

Difficult to pick just one, but I believe one of the most vivid recollections I have is being knocked from my horse, then waking to find myself face to face with my captor—the beautiful lady who became my wife, Lady Katherine. She took my breath away, dressed as she was as a lad. That was nothing to what I experienced the first time I saw her dressed in a gown. She set me free of my bindings that first day, but my heart will always be in her keeping.

What do you most value?

That’s an easy one. Honesty, loyalty, love, honor. The measure of a man or a woman, no matter the station in life, is the devotion to those qualities.

What is the type of woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?

Such a woman should have every one of the qualities I mentioned above. In addition, she must be independent, intelligent, with a mind of her own. I want a true mate, not a weak, shallow shadow. She must be able to manage the castle and direct the people if I am away. And she will, of course, be a loving and dedicated mother. I though such a female didn’t exist until I met my Kate.

What do you consider most important in life? 

My loving wife, our children, and our friends. 

What is your biggest secret?

I’ll share this with you, Lady Tena, but I ask that it goes no further. I wept the night before I wed Kate, and when each of my children were born. I wept because I never thought to have such joy in my life. God has blessed me.

Wow, you are a very lucky man.  You know I’ve been called a lot of things, but Lady was never one of them, so thank you Lord Henry of Chauvere.  <giggle>

Barbara, your turn. Tell us a little about writing this storyWas it fun or difficult?  Do your characters always act as you expect? Are you a plotter, or fly (write) by the seat of your pants?

This story of Henry and his Lady Kate was fated from my first book (which hasn’t been published, but which I’m revising now and hope to see out soon). When it finally materialized, the tale bore little resemblance to its first vision. But I am so pleased with the results. It’s one of my favorite stories.

It was fun to write, but a challenge to bring the two together in the format I wanted, which was a 40,000 words novella.

My characters don’t always act as I expect. Although I have a basic synopsis of the entire story and certain major touch points before I begin, from there on I’m a pantser, so I’m flexible when my characters come up with ideas of their own. Even when other characters unexpectedly pop in from other books. That’s what happened with Sir Bernard. I had such fun with him in a previous book, he just barreled right in!

Oh boy do I know that feeling!

Share a bit about the book?

He must pursue his enemy; she must protect her people. Can their love survive the duties that drive them apart?

When her elderly husband dies, Lady Katherine fakes her own death and disappears into the forest with others escaping the brutish new lord. Determined to protect her people, she knocks the wrong man senseless. But Lord Henry isn’t an enemy, he’s the brother of her childhood friend. Although his tender confidence tempts her, she’s bound by duty.

Henry of Chauvere has found the one lady he wants for his own, never mind she’s tied him hand and foot. When he learns the king has ordered her to wed Stonehill’s ruthless new master, he insists Kate seek haven with his sister. But she won’t desert her friends. Henry vows to solve her problem, provided he catches a traitor before the threat from Kate’s past catches her.

When a daring rescue compels Henry and Kate to join forces, their attraction grows into love. If only duty didn’t drive them apart.

How about a peek between the pages of The Lady of the Forest?

Kate drew the dagger sheathed at her waist and set to the knots at his wrist. “Two days ago, soldiers began searching for strangers. Friends at the castle told us a traitor roamed the forest, and Sir Mortimer gave orders to apprehend or kill him.”

“Then it appears Sir Paxton has reached your lord and recruited help. He has a talent for

spinning tales.”

The ropes gave way and Kate stepped back.

Henry massaged his wrists. “Your men tie a good knot. Have a lot of practice, do they?”

Kate jerked her gaze to his face. He jested at a time like this? Yes, blast the man, a smile lurked at the corners of his lips.

Her glance slid from his mouth to his eyes, and she gasped. “Your poor face. Here,” she handed him the dagger and waved at the binding around his ankles, “you cut while I pour more water. If that wound isn’t cleaned, it may turn bad.”

She’d retrieved the bowl from the floor where she’d dropped it earlier, and turned to fill it with cool water when a pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders. A deep, rough whisper brushed her ears.

“Never give a weapon to the enemy.”

Check out The Lady of the Forest at:  AMAZON  and The Wild Rose Press

Award winning author Barbara Bettis has always loved history and English. As a college freshman, she briefly considered becoming an archeologist until she realized there likely would be bugs and snakes involved. And math. She now lives in Missouri, where she recently retired as an English and journalism professor and plans to spend more time creating heroes to live for.

You can find more about Barbara at  www.barbarabettis.blogspot.com or follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

It was wonderful having you with us today.  Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with The Lady of the Forest.

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Welcome Author Marin McGinnis & Tempting Mr. Jordan

Happy New Year to all!  Give a big welcome to Marin McGinnis, author of Tempting Mr. Jordan. Have a seat and grab an insulated mug. I’ve got hot chocolate, hot cider and coffee.marinmcginnis-2 Choose your pot, they’re labeled. Pick a Snicker-doodle and Gingerbread cookie from the plate. Yep, I baked them myself.  Thanks for joining us! How about answers a few questions? I promise not to put you on the spot…too often. LOL   

What secret do you use to blast through writer’s block?

If I had one, I’d be rich. J Seriously, though, I read something once which argued there is no such thing as writer’s block, and I believe it. When I get blocked, it’s usually because the story has taken a weird turn and I have to get it back on track but am not sure how, or because I just don’t feel like figuring out where I’m going. The only way to get through it is to sit the butt in the chair.

What inspired you to write?

I got an idea in my head a number of years ago, and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it down. That book is under the bed, but the ideas keep coming.

How long have you been writing?

I started a book in my 20s, but didn’t start writing in earnest until about 8 years ago, when I was a lot older than 20.

Do you see yourself in your characters?

I think there are bits of me in my characters, especially my heroines, but I don’t think any of them of my characters are patterned after any one person, including me.

Do you find it easier to write from a male or female point of view? Why?

Female, probably because I am one.  But I like writing from a male point of view as well—it’s interesting to explore the male psyche, but I can’t say that I understand it!

What you do when you are not writing.

I like to cook, read, binge watch British TV on Netflix, and spend time with my husband and son.

A northeast Ohio native, Marin McGinnis has been a voracious reader ever since she could make sense of words on the page. She’s dabbled with writing for a long time, but didn’t start writing in earnest until she discovered historical romance about a decade ago. Marin has three historical romance titles published with The Wild Rose Press, and is a member of RWA and its Northeast Ohio, Hearts Through History, and Kiss of Death chapters. She will serve as President of the Northeast Ohio RWA chapter in 2017. Marin lives in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, in a drafty 100 year old house with her husband, son, and two standard poodles named Larry and Sneaky Pete.

Marin lurks on the following social media sites and loves to chat.

Website: http://marinmcginnis.com

Blog: http://marinmcginnis.com/blog

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarinMcG

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarinMcGinnis  (@MarinMcGinnis)

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/12256384.Marin_McGinnis

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00S03YY60

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/marinmcginnis/

perf5.000x8.000.inddHow about telling us a little about  your new release Tempting Mr. Jordan?

After four unsuccessful London seasons, Lady Julia Tenwick despairs of ever making a love match. With spinsterhood looming on the horizon, she and a friend set sail for America on one last adventure. When her travels take her to northern Maine, Julia meets a reclusive but handsome artist, whose rudeness masks a broken heart Julia feels compelled to mend.

Still haunted by the betrayal and death of his pregnant wife two years before, Geoffrey Jordan is determined never to risk his heart again. Certainly not with the gorgeous and impetuous aristocrat who intrudes upon his small-town solitude, and is far too similar to his late wife to tempt him to take another chance on love.

But when Julia and Geoffrey find themselves united in a reckless plan to save Julia’s friend from ruin, they discover that temptation is impossible to resist.

Sounds interesting.  Do you have a peek into Tempting Mr. Jordan? 

Cranberry Cove reminded Julia of home, her family’s estate in Durham, where ton rules were abandoned in favor of lazy days riding, reading, caring for her pets, or playing the piano. It occurred to her that she had not played in weeks. Her fingers itched to touch a keyboard, and she flexed her hands inside her calfskin gloves. She vowed to play soon. She thought she had seen a harpsichord in the drawing room of Maria’s enormous house.

Reaching the end of the little lane on which Maria lived, she took a right onto Main Street. It consisted of several houses similar to the one in which she was staying, so she turned left onto Maple Street, which was much more interesting. There was a green grocer, a bookseller, a milliner, a tailor, a blacksmith—everything one could want in a village. The streets were clean—much cleaner than London—and the air was crisp and fresh, even if it smelled ever so slightly of fish.

Julia was staring into the newspaper office—a badly written but oddly gripping tale about missing lobster traps was plastered to the window—when she was nearly knocked off her feet.

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” She managed to right herself, wondering why she should be the one to apologize. She looked up into the hooded eyes of Geoffrey Jordan, who held a book in one hand. “Mr. Jordan!”

“Lady Julia.” He reached out to steady her, the touch of his hand on her arm causing a charge to shoot up her spine. “Please forgive me. Are you hurt?”

“Are you in the habit of running over tourists on your streets?” She freed her arm, flustered by her own reaction, and busied herself with adjusting her hat. When she regarded Mr. Jordan again, he was smirking.

“No, just the ones who stop in the middle of the street,” he said.

Julia opened her mouth to retort, but he held up a finger to silence her. “Nevertheless, I am sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. And the scintillating prose of our local newspaper could halt anyone in her tracks.”

She laughed. “It is not The Times, to be sure.”

His lips quirked up at the tips in something approaching a smile. Julia thought she hadn’t seen him do that before and found it oddly entrancing. “Where are you headed, Lady Julia?”

She forced herself to look away from his lips. “Um. Nowhere in particular. I was in need of a walk after luncheon, so I thought I would explore a bit.”

“The Universalist church, just around the corner, is particularly beautiful, and you will need to sample lobster from the establishment run by the Maclays, on the pier. It will melt in your mouth.”

The way he looked at her as he made the remark made her own mouth dry. Her cheeks burned.

“Um. Yes. That sounds lovely.” She gazed down at her feet until she collected herself. Raising her head, she found herself caught in his sights. She swallowed nervously. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Jordan, I really must get back. Constance will be wondering where I’ve got to.” She brushed past him, her shoulder tingling at the contact with his arm.

“Lady Julia?” His tone was vaguely amused.

She stopped and turned to face him. “Yes, Mr. Jordan?”

His thin lips turned up at the corners again, and he pointed behind him. “I believe your house is that way.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She willed herself not to stumble as she passed him, at least not until she’d cleared the corner.

Wondering where to find Tempting Mr. Jordan?  The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and Bookstrand.

I just love your setting, Cranberry Cove.  Marin thanks so much for stopping by. It was wonderful having you with us today.  Please feel free to pop in anytime. Good Luck with Tempting Mr. Jordan. Best wishes for a Happy and Prosperous New Year!

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Welcome Author Linda Nightingale

midnight-prowler-2Give a warm welcome to Linda Nightingale, author of  Four By Moonlight!

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 Linda and her tales of love in the moonlight from paranormal realms.

What do you want your readers to take away from your books?

A sense of enchantment.  I want my reader to sink beneath the surface of reality, into the book and enjoy their time in my world, then surface as if they’re leaving reality behind.  I am delighted if the reader feels he/she knows and loves the characters and is sorry to leave them.

Do you find it easier to write from a male or female point of view? Oddly enough, the male.  Why? For some reason, the male character, usually the hero, is the first to take the stage and begin to tell me the story that becomes peopled by other characters as his tale unfolds.  The hero of Sinners’ Opera—Morgan D’Arcy—is very talkative and my first draft of the novel galloped to a whopping 1,000 pages.  Needless to say, I had to trim, trim, and finally hack and slash.

What do you like to do when you are not writing?   I love sports cars and just treated myself to my second-childhood 2-seater roadster.  Zoom-Zoom! He’s called Midnight Prowler—Midnight for short, and is a triple black Miata Club Miata.  I also like to dress up and host formal dinner parties.  Well, dress up, period.linda-in-gown-2

I can understand the sports cars, but dressing up, not my style.  LOL

You’ve got a time machine, a cloak of invisibility, and one hour. Where would you go, and what eavesdropping would you do?

It’s a toss-up between Charles II’s merry court of the mid-sixteen hundreds or Edward VIII during the trying times before and after he abdicated to marry Wallis Simpson, an American divorcee.  I’d love to hear their conversations just before he surrendered the English throne.  Yet, I’d have a lot of fun listening to the King romance the Orange Seller Nell Gywn.  I could go on and on about either subject, but I’d better turn the mike back over to Tena.

Interesting, I’ve recently read a few historical romances and find royals are an interesting lot.

Born in South Carolina, Linda has lived in England, Canada, Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Atlanta and Houston.  Linda’s seen a lot of this country from the windshield of a truck pulling a horse trailer, having bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses for many years.

Linda won several writing awards, including the Georgia Romance Writers Magnolia Award and the SARA.  She has two wonderful sons, is a retired legal assistant, member of the Houston Symphony League, and enjoys events with her car club (in her snazzy convertible).  She owns a piano she can’t play without the remote(it has a player system).

You can find more information about Linda here:

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/LNightingale – @Lnightingale

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/LindaNightingaleAuthor

Web Site:  http://www.lindanightingale.com – Visit and look around. There’s a free continuing vampire story.

Blog:  https://lindanightingale.wordpress.com/ – Lots of interesting guests & prizes

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4839311.Linda_Nightingale

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/lbnightingale1/

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/Linda-Nightingale/e/B005OSOJ0U

Tell us a little about Four By Moonlight4bymoonlightcoverwhitetxt-1

An anthology of love in the moonlight…in the paranormal realms…

Gypsy Ribbons – A moonlight ride on the moors and meeting a notorious highwayman will forever change Lady Virginia Darby’s life.

Star Angel – Lucy was stuck in a rut and in an Idaho potato patch. She’d seen him in the corner of her eye—a fleeting glimpse of beauty—now he stood before her in the flesh.

The Night Before Doomsday – All his brothers had succumbed to lust, but Azazel resisted temptation until the wrong woman came along.

The Gatekeeper’s Cottage – Newlywed Meggie Richelieu’s mysterious, phantom lover may be more than anyone, except the plantation housekeeper, suspects.

Do you have an excerpt for us?

 Red eyes watched from the grate as she slipped into the cold, empty bed. Simon should have been there to warm her rather than the dying fire. Not pursuing a dangerous dream. Too angry, too miserable to weep, she tossed and turned. The relief of sleep eluded her.

An icy breath whispered through the room. Tory snuggled deeper beneath the goose down covers. Had the weather made up its mind? Was Simon riding in ice and snow? She imagined white flakes in Goliath’s long black mane and on the highwayman’s plush velvet cloak. Poor darling, he would be cold. Tory slowly drifted to sleep unrelated thoughts scrolling in her mind. A soft sound snapped her wide awake. She sat bolt upright, tugging the covers over the breasts.  The room was iceberg cold.  The ghost.

“Not Simon.” She held her breath, ears stained for the horrifying, otherworldly whisper, a warning of imminent death. The sound came again, closer. A slow footstep creeping over the old oaken floor. Tonight, the ghost of Darby Manor wandered its dim corridors.

“No. No.” Tory squeezed her eyes closed and prayed, forgetting she didn’t believe in ghosts.

The footsteps halted. Tory’s heart stopped. She started to cover her ears, refusing to hear. The ghost breathed that heartbreaking sigh at her door.

Shuddering, she slid back under the layers of down. The warmth had no effect on her shivers. She folded into a fetal position.  I’m no longer alone.  Fear chilled her anew.  Though she couldn’t see clearly in the dim light, she knew her breath puffed white clouds in the frigid air. Dread sank its wicked claws into her racing heart.

Ooohhh, the stories sound like great Halloween tales! I love Halloween. Don’t you?

Buy Links:           Amazon eBook

Print – ClassActBooks

It was wonderful having you with us today.  Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with Four By Midnight.

 

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Author’s Secrets Welcomes Linda Nightingale

linda-nightengaleGive a warm welcome to Linda Nightingale, author of A Vampyre Rhapsody a collection of short stories detailing Morgan D’Arcy.

Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the blue cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Linda and Morgan D’Arcy.  I believe Isabeau will be by later.

Born in South Carolina, Linda has lived in England, Canada, Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Atlanta and Houston.  She’s seen a lot of this country from the windshield of a truck pulling a horse trailer, having bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses for many years.

Linda has won several writing awards, including the Georgia Romance Writers Magnolia Award.   She is the mother of two wonderful sons, a retired legal assistant, member of the Houston Symphony League, and enjoys events with her car club.  Among her favorite things are her two marvelous sons, a snazzy black convertible, and her parlor grand piano.  She loves to dress up and host formal dinner parties.

Contact Linda at:

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/LNightingale – @Lnightingale

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/LindaNightingaleAuthor

Web Site:  http://www.lindanightingale.com – Visit and look around. There’s a free continuing vampire story.

Blog:  https://lindanightingale.wordpress.com/ – Lots of interesting guests & prizes

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4839311.Linda_Nightingale

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/lbnightingale1/

 

Now Mr. D’Arcy a few questions for you.  Thank you for patiently waiting. Did you get a bottled blood from the red cooler?

I did. Thank you.

Tells us about the real you—   My name is Morgan Gabriel D’Arcy. I was born in Devon, England, in 1632.  I am an Earl, a concert pianist, and have been a vampire since 1659, the year before Charles II returned to the throne of England.

What event in your past has left the most indelible impression on you?  The years I spent wandering the continent with then Prince Charles after he escaped Crowell.  As a Royalist, I accompanied my King first to France, but thereafter, we were at the mercy of different European Courts. I wouldn’t say we were paupers, but we were, in essence, beggars.

What do you most value?  These are difficult questions.  I value many things, but I suppose at the heart of them all is my desire to find one woman to love, who loves me as I am, and sire an heir to my title.  I have found that woman.

What is the type of woman you want to spend the rest of your life with? Isabeau is beautiful, intelligent, and kind. I appeared to her as the Angel Gabriel when she was a child, influencing her career choice.  She is a talented geneticist.  She will need more than intelligence and talent to save our child, but I am here to guide her every step of the way to solving a genetic fault with the offspring of mortals and vampires.

 What do you consider most important in life? Love.

 What is your biggest secret?  Isabeau.  What I plan flies in the face of Vampyre Law.  Isabeau, the child, and I could easily stand before a Tribunal, our lives forfeit for my sins…and dream of a race of immortals with human morals and vampire powers.

Thank you Morgan.  I know you have places to be, so we won’t hold you up anymore. Morgan stands and exits through the rear door, as Isabeau is waiting at the front.

 

Isabeau, thanks so much for stopping by, have a seat.  You just missed Morgan.

I like to start an interview with the question, who are you really?  I’m a geneticist, an avid reader.  I know what you want. (She smiles) To peel back my skin and see the woman inside.  I’m not sure I know her, but I’ll try to answer your question.  I am, and have always been, in love with Morgan D’Arcy, even though he manipulated my entire life.  I am a woman in love.

Who were the biggest role models in your life?  My mother and father. And I guess Morgan.

What kind of man do you want to spend the rest of your life with?   A vampire, but only one of them…Morgan.

What kind of man would you never choose?  Almost anyone.  I am already in love, but I could never live with a man who wasn’t affectionate and kind.

What is most important to you in life?  To love wholeheartedly—the kind of love that comes only once in a lifetime because no one is strong enough to bear it twice.

  What is your biggest fear?  To end up never finding that kind of love.

Linda, a couple of questions for you. 

Tell us a little about writing this story.  These stories simply told themselves.  It is always like that when it is a  Morgan story.  He isn’t shy about telling me the tale.  Was it fun or difficult?  They were fun and not difficult. A Vampyre Rhapsody is a collection of short stories detailing Morgan’s earlier affections.  Do your characters always act as you expect? Absolutely not, particularly Isabeau and Morgan.  Are you a plotter, or fly (write) by the seat of your pants?  I’m a pantster all the way.

Me too, I can’t plot my way out of a paper bag.  When I’ve tried, the characters merely thumbed their noses at me and went there own way. So I gave up. LOL

morgandarcyavampyrerhapsody_w10500_750Tell us a little about A Vampyre Rhapsody .

The greatest enemy of a vampire is boredom. Four centuries of existence have taught Lord Morgan Gabriel D’Arcy to fear nothing and no one. Humans and their weapons have little chance against his preternatural speed and arcane powers. Vampires are viral mutations of human DNA. Still, the Vampyre code requires secrecy, and he has learned to hide his nature from the world. The lure of mortality, of a life in the sun, puts Morgan again and again at the mercy of calculating human women though they fail to consider his charm and determination into the equation. However, even grooming a future bride from infancy proves to be fraught with heartbreak. And second chances are not always what they seem unless… you are Morgan. Immortality and beauty, aren’t they grand?

Wonderful how about an excerpt from the book?

Never Goodbye

 Isabeau, my Isabeau.

Isabeau with blonde-streaked brown hair and the most beautiful purple eyes. How could she forget me so quickly and return to that bastard?  Dark-haired, dark-eyed John Payne—my complete opposite—was my sworn enemy. One day soon, he’d die.

The Grim Reaper—with fangs—would teach him that Isabeau was mine.

I’d been present at her birth, had chosen her to be my wife in that moment, and had watched over her as her guardian angel. She’d been the most exquisite blonde child.

I’d influenced her career choice and financed her education by grants through anonymous foundations. I’d even bought her a white Andalusian horse. These things I’d given her. She’d given me more than I’d ever dreamed. To this unknown bargain, Isabeau had brought beauty, grace, and a vast intelligence. As a geneticist, she could find a cure for the fatal gene of madness that all progeny of vampires and mortals suffered. She had the required vampire DNA, mine in fact, but she didn’t know about the flawed chromosome. It was tragedy that she’d driven me away before I could confess.

Isabeau had been born in Beaufort, South Carolina. Her parents were friends that I’d chosen carefully to breed my future bride. She’d attended the College of Charleston, one of the finest Ivy League universities, and returned to Charleston when LifeGen, a genetics firm, offered her a position.

I’d given her my heart, unconditionally, and she’d broken it. After she banished me from her life, she returned my letters, deleted my emails, and refused my phone calls. Why? She’d discovered how I shaped her life and accused me of manipulating her.

For the thousandth time, I lifted a phone to my ear to make a hopeless call. This time, I was in Charleston. She wouldn’t recognize the number as I was ringing her from my hotel room.

“Hello.” Her voice! Music to my ears.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak, then I took a deep breath, and plunged. “Isabeau, you must talk with me.”

“Morgan, I’ve made it perfectly clear that I never want to hear from you again.” Anger stained her voice a shade deeper.

I imagined her in her sunshine yellow kitchen, leaning against the granite counter, coffee brewing and filling the room with its rich scent. Isabeau was tall and beautiful with a captivating smile. At the moment, unfortunately, she’d be frowning.

God, how I missed her! She was my light—I her dark—two pieces of a soul.

“Please, don’t ring off.” I paced the confines of my hotel room. “I’m in Charleston. I want to see you.”

“I have a date,” she said coolly.

A vision of Isabeau dressed for a night out on the town blinded me. Was she wearing one of the lovely dresses I’d given her while we lived our idyll in my house on the Battery? The Rover House overlooked the ocean. She’d left her Orange Street home to come to me. For five short months, we’d lived in a dreamlike state of bliss…together at last.

“A date with that bastard John Payne.” My hand fisted at my side. I wanted to strike something or someone. Tonight, the Royal Pain would join his ancestors.

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re carrying my child, Isabeau. That makes it my business.” I washed to a halt by the bed. “You love me.”

You can get your own copy of Vampyre Rhapsody by clicking on the link below. 

Morgan D’Arcy: A Vampyre Rhapsody

Wow, I can wait to read Vampyre Rhapsody.  It’s on my ipad as we speak. Thanks so much for arranging for Isabeau and Morgan to meet with me.  And for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit with me. Please feel free to stop by anytime.  

 

 

 

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