About Me
- Pamela Clare
- I grew up in Colorado at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, then lived in Denmark and traveled throughout Europe before coming back to Colorado. I have two adult sons, whom I cherish. I started my writing career as a columnist and investigative reporter and eventually became the first woman editor of two different papers. Along the way, my team and I won numerous state and several national awards, including the National Journalism Award for Public Service. In 2011, I was awarded the Keeper of the Flame Lifetime Achievement Award for Journalism. Now I write historical romance and contemporary romantic suspense.
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Showing posts with label Carnal Gift. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carnal Gift. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
RIDE THE FIRE is out! Special: Nicholas meets Connor MacKinnon
Ride the Fire (Kenleigh-Blakewell Family Saga, Book 3) is out today! After almost four years of being out of print, it’s back.
Here are all of the places you can find it, in addition to your local indie bookstores, which can probably order it if they don’t have it in stock:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/Y7Jx8K
For Kindle: http://amzn.to/14P7054
B&N: http://bit.ly/11PaZKC
Nook: http://bit.ly/XeHwZH
Indiebound: http://bit.ly/Ut1nYI
iTunes: http://bit.ly/Ut20l0
At the same time, the first two books in that series — Sweet Release and Carnal Gift — have been given new covers and issued in trade paperback through Amazon.com. Carrie from Seductive Designs did the cover design, while Jenn LeBlanc shot the original photographs. I think they covers are pretty amazing. They were made to match artistically with Ride the Fire.
So my first trilogy is back in print again! I’ll raise a glass that! But to celebrate I decided to share something with you that fans of Ride the Fire might appreciate — a scene that I deleted from Defiant where Nicholas Kenleigh meets Connor MacKinnon and Sarah Woodville in the wilderness.
Ride the Fire takes place in 1763, after the MacKinnon's Rangers books end. So Nicholas Kenleigh is wandering around in his self-imposed exile in the wild during the time that Iain, Morgan and Connor are fighting the war. I figured they might happen to cross paths...
Nicholas is one of my favorite heros, so I couldn’t resist the idea of writing the scene once the idea came to me. What would happen if these two protective alpha males crossed paths in the wilderness? I had a lot of fun with it — and then realized that it slowed down the narrative of Defiant without adding anything to the store more than a “squeee!” moment for hard-core fans of my books. It was a great act of writerly self-control to delete it.
Now, I can share it with you!
When Connor MacKinnon Met Nicholas Kenleigh
From somewhere
nearby, a horse snorted.
In a heartbeat,
Sarah found herself on the ground, Connor shielding her body with his, rifle
already in his hands, tompion between his teeth.
Then from among
the trees before them, a man appeared.
Tall with long, dark hair and a long beard, he stepped forth, animal
skins draped over his horse’s back, a dead deer hanging over his shoulder. He was dressed head to toe in buckskin, and
Sarah thought at first that he must be a French trapper. But when he spoke, his accent was cultured
and very English.
“Save your
lead. The name is Nicholas Kenleigh, a
loyal subject of His Majesty King George.
Have you anything to go with this buck?"
# # #
Connor leaned in
close to Joseph and spoke in Mahican. “I
do not like it. See how he watches her?”
Kenleigh was
skinning and gutting the buck, his hands bloody to the wrists, his gaze
drifting time and again to Sarah, who gathered kindling nearby apparently
heedless that she was the center of so much male attention.
Joseph
nodded. “A deserter?”
Such men, both
French and English, prowled the forests, unable to return home for fear of
being hanged. Cutthroats and thieves,
they had no honor and lived outside the law, attacking farmsteads, stealing,
raping, killing.
“Aye, what else
would he be? Look at his horse.” Connor had never seen a stallion of such
quality, surely beyond the means of a mere trapper. He’d likely stolen it. “There is war in his eyes. And his musket—it is the weapon of a soldier.
”
Even as they
spoke, Kenleigh looked away from the buck, his gaze seeking Sarah. The man had like as not gone months, perhaps
years, without a woman and might at this very moment be imagining all the ways
Sarah might serve his lust.
“We could kill him
now or wait for him to kill us and take her.”
Connor knew Joseph
was right, but the thought of slaying a man in cold blood was repugnant to
him. They had no proof that Kenleigh was
deserter, after all. The only thing he’d
done thus far was to gaze upon Sarah a bit too long and a bit too often.
Then again, maybe
they should kill him.
Connor reined in
his anger. “We must remain watchful and
ready.”
Without needing to
speak further, Connor and Joseph kept Sarah far beyond Kenleigh’s reach, one of
them ever at her side as cuts of venison were set to roast above the fire,
cornmeal was mixed into ashcakes, and more firewood was gathered. If Kenleigh made any move to take her, they
would kill him before he touched her.
Kenleigh said
little but went about his business, watching the venison, brushing his horse,
speaking to it in soft reassuring tones.
The chestnut stallion, which he called Zeus, nuzzled him, nickering
softly, the affection between the two helping to reassure Connor that Kenleigh
wasn’t entirely evil.
Men could be
easily fooled; animals were not.
An hour later,
they sat around the fire, Sarah between Connor and Joseph—and across the fire
from Kenleigh.
The man cut off a
sliver of roasted venison with his knife and ate it with uncommon grace, his
manners sharply at odds with his rough appearance. “Obwandiyag of the Ottawa speaks of uniting
the tribes to throw the whites out. When
this war ends, I fear we shall face another.”
Joseph seemed to
consider this. “It will be hard to bring
the tribes together. The Haudenosaunee
and Wyandot will never stop fighting, and my people will never ally themselves
with the Mohawk.”
“I’ve heard
Obwandiyag speak. He is metai—a spiritual leader—and holds the
respect of many.” Kenleigh cut off
another slice of venison. “Some among
the Ottawa believe he was born to rid the Americas of Europeans.”
Then his gaze
shifted to Sarah, who had stopped eating to listen. “I apologize if my words frighten you, miss.”
“She’s my wife.” Connor spoke the
words with more force than he’d intended.
Kenleigh met his
gaze. “What brings you out this far?”
And Connor saw
that Kenleigh trusted them no more than they trusted him. Why then had he approached them? There could be only one reason—Sarah.
Connor’s hackles
rose.
“A Mequachake Shawnee war party took
her.” Connor cut Sarah a slice of meat
and held it out for her, using the gesture as an excuse to move closer to
her. “We came to get her back.”
Kenleigh looked
from Connor to Joseph and back again.
“Just the two of you against the entire village?”
“Aye.” Connor cut a slice of meat, the juices hot on
his fingers. “You’ll find a dozen or so
dead Shawnee a good day’s journey to the south.”
Kenleigh seemed to
study him, as if taking his measure afresh, then his gaze shifted once more to
Sarah. This time, his voice was gentle
when he spoke. “Is what this man says
true? Is he your husband?”
“Aye, sir.” A
blush crept into Sarah’s cheeks. “We
are… We are newly wed.”
“Felicitations.” Kenleigh’s gaze shifted back to Connor. “I’ve given you my name. ’Tis time I learnt yours.”
Joseph spoke
first. “Joseph Aupauteunk, war chief of
the Mahican.”
“I am Connor
MacKinnon, and this is my bride, Sarah.”
Kenleigh’s eyebrows rose. “Connor MacKinnon? Major
Connor MacKinnon of MacKinnon’s Rangers?”
“Aye, the same.”
“Why didn’t you
bloody say so in the first place? With
deserters running rampant through these woods, I saw the woman and feared she
was your captive.”
Sarah gaped at
him. “You thought to rescue me?”
Connor gave a
snort. “Is that why you contrived to
share your kill wi’ us—so that you could discover the truth about her?”
“Aye.” Kenleigh grinned, reaching out to cut another
slice of meat. “And I suppose you
thought I was a deserter.”
Connor met his
gaze. “Are you?”
“Nay.” Kenleigh cut off another slice. “I fought beside Colonel Washington as a
volunteer in the Virginia Regiment early in the war until I was taken captive
by the Wyandot.”
Connor concealed
his surprise. Few taken by the Wyandot
escaped being burnt alive in their fires.
He might have asked Kenleigh how he’d avoided that fate, but the haunted
look that came to Kenleigh’s eyes stopped Connor cold.
# #
#
Master Kenleigh
journeyed with them for the rest of the afternoon. He insisted Sarah ride while he walked, but
Connor would allow this only if he sat upon the horse with her, apparently
trusting neither the stallion nor its owner with her safety. He climbed onto the beast’s back, then drew
her into the saddle before him, positioning her so that she sat astride.
But Sarah had
never sat a horse in so bold a fashion before.
Heat flooded her cheeks as her already short doeskin skirt was pushed
up, leaving her legs exposed from the top of her leggings, which tied off just
below her knees, to the middle of her thighs.
“I cannot sit like this. ’Tis indecent
and—”
“Stop thrashin’
about, or you’ll frighten the horse.”
Connor steadied her, taking the reins from Master Kenleigh, who held the
bridle, speaking to the stallion in low, reassuring tones.
Though Sarah
couldn’t be certain because of his thick beard, it seemed to her Master
Kenleigh was smiling.
Then Connor spoke
softly for her ears alone. “This journey
has been hard on you, lass. Rest while
you can. Besides, ’tis no’ as bad as being
bare-breasted, aye?”
And Sarah’s cheeks
burned hotter.
For a time, they moved through the forest
without speaking. Birds filled the
forest with song, their staccato chirps and trills a merry chorus. The sky was still blue, warm sunlight
filtering down through budding branches onto a carpet of wet leaves, last summer’s
crowning glory now a faded carpet. A
warm breeze blew through the trees, carrying the mingled scents of damp earth,
moldering vegetation, and sunshine, mountains and valleys stretching out around
them as far as the eye could see.
Oh, how Margaret would have loved to paint
this for one of her landscapes! Yet,
even Margaret with her eye and her skill with the brush would have struggled to
capture such beauty on canvas. How could
any art depict a wilderness as fierce and vast as this?
Sarah’s gaze dropped
to Master Kenleigh, who walked beside them.
What a mystery he was. In
appearance, he seemed every bit the wild man, a trapper of little means, crude
and unkempt, a haunted look in his eyes.
Yet his speech was refined, his manners those of a well-bred gentleman.
It touched Sarah
that he had thought to rescue her. A
stranger, he’d been willing to risk his life to save hers. Yet, how fortunate it was for all of them
that he’d chosen to seek out the truth of her situation before striking. Who’s to say who might have emerged the
victor had he attacked Connor and Joseph?
Of a similar height to Connor, he clearly knew how to fight and
survive.
She’d often heard her father say that
Britain was well rid of the riffraff who emigrated to the Americas—the poor,
convicts, traitors, heretics, zealots.
But it seemed to her that the American frontier bred men of uncommon
strength and courage, men who were every bit as gallant as they were rough.
And something Joseph had said came back to
her.
In
this land, nobility comes not from one’s fathers or a title or from the land
one owns, but from one’s actions. The MacKinnon brothers are the highest
nobility to those who live on the frontier—true warriors, men who know how to
fight and survive, men who put the lives of others before their own.
Sarah could see that now. Though Connor, Joseph and Master Kenleigh
would not have been welcome in her father’s halls, they were noble men,
possessed of skills and qualities few London gentlemen could match.
It was Master
Kenleigh who finally broke the silence, pointing through the trees toward
sun-dappled hills beyond. “When you
reach the valley between those two mountains, veer east. The Delaware are gathering at the northern
end of that valley, most of them ready, like the Shawnee, to abandon their
peace with Britain. Unless I am
mistaken, MacKinnon, there is still a price on your scalp.”
There was a price on Connor’s scalp?
“Aye, so there
is.”
The men began to
speak of the land and the surest routes to Fort Edward, their knowledge of this
forest beyond her comprehension. How
they could tell one stand of trees, one mountaintop, one valley from the next,
she could not say. And lulled by the
motion of the horse and the fresh, warm air, Sarah drifted off to sleep.
She roused
sometime later—how much later she couldn’t say—to find her head resting against
Connor’s chest, his arm wrapped gently around her ribcage just beneath her
breasts. She felt safe in his embrace,
sheltered, cared for. Not wanting that
feeling to end, she let herself doze, her mind catching snatches of quiet
conversation.
“Have you seen the
great river?” Connor’s voice rumbled in his chest.
“The river the
Ojibwa call Mshi-ziibi? Aye, I’ve
seen. I’ve crossed it, in fact, and
journeyed west beyond it for most of a year.”
“What lies beyond
the river?”
“Plains so vast
they seem like an ocean of tall grass and beyond that mountains that make these
peaks look like mere hills.”
And for a time she
dreamt she was floating over waves of grass in the birch bark canoe, her head
lying against Connor’s chest as he rowed.
“Your wife is a
gentle creature. Why in God’s name did
you bring her out here? You of all
people should know the frontier is no place for a woman.”
“My reasons are my
own affair, Kenleigh.”
They were talking
about her, she realized. But then she
was drifting again.
“Where are your
men? Why are you out here alone? You’ve long leagues yet to travel and just
the two of you to watch over her.”
“We hadn’t yet
mustered for the season. Most of the
Rangers are winterin’ wi’ their families.
I sent for volunteers, but I dinnae think they’ll be able to find us ere
we reach Fort Edward. They’ll track us
as far as Mequachake, but whether the
village will still be there or they’ll be able to find our tracks leading
westward, I dinnae ken.”
When next Sarah
opened her eyes, she saw Master Kenleigh set his rifle against a tree and draw
his buckskin tunic over his head as if he’d grown overly warm from his
exertions. The shirt of white linen he
wore beneath it got caught in the supple leather and nearly came off, too,
giving her a glimpse of his bare back.
It took a moment
for Sarah to understand what she was seeing.
Scars.
His body was
covered with them. Cuts. Pinched flesh. Burn marks.
It looked as if someone had tried to cut him to bits or burn him
alive. Or both.
She sat upright
and might have gasped had Connor not covered her mouth, his lips pressed
against her ear as he whispered an almost inaudible, “Shhh.”
And Sarah’s heart
filled with pity for Master Kenleigh.
Someone had hurt him horribly, and his flesh bore the marks of that
cruelty. Now he lived alone on the
frontier with no home, no family, no one to call his friend. How lonely he must be! And yet, even in the midst of his loneliness
he had turned aside from his own path for her sake.
But who had hurt
him and why?
# #
#
Joseph, who had
been scouting ahead, was waiting for them as planned at the top of the next
ridge. He acknowledged Connor with an
almost imperceptible nod.
“It’s here we part
ways, Major.” Kenleigh took the
stallion’s bridle. “A good day’s journey
east of here, you’ll find an old farmstead where your wife can take shelter.”
“Are you certain
you willna travel wi’ us?” Connor
dismounted, then reached up for Sarah, setting her on her feet beside him,
strangely pleased by this fiction of his being her husband. “You can trade at Fort Edward, build up your
stores. There’s always room in the
Rangers for a man wi’ your skills and knowledge.”
Kenleigh took the
reins and rubbed the horse’s muzzle, answering without meeting Connor’s
gaze. “You honor me, Major, but I have
seen enough war.”
’Twas as final an
answer as a man could give, and having seen the scars on Kenleigh’s body,
Connor did not begrudge him.
“Should you ever
be in need, seek me out.” Connor
adjusted his tumpline pack, then reached for the rifle he’d tucked behind
Kenleigh’s saddle. “Thank you for
sharin’ the venison—and your horse. I
hope we didna take you too far out of your way.”
“I have no destination,
so you needn’t fear on that account.”
Then Kenleigh faced Connor, holding out his hand. “’Tis not every day a man meets a living
legend.”
Connor shook
Kenleigh’s hand, feeling vaguely discomfited by the praise. ’Twas Iain and Morgan who were legends, not
Connor. “I bid you farewell and a safe
journey.”
Kenleigh’s gaze
came to rest on Sarah, and he bowed his head.
“Ma’am.”
He turned away and
began to mount his horse.
“Wait!” She hurried over to him. “You would have risked your life for mine,
and for that, I am most grateful. I’ll
not forget your courage. May God bless
and keep you and guide you on your journey, wherever it may lead. I shall keep you in my prayers.”
Then she stood on
tiptoe and pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek, much to Connor’s
astonishment. Kenleigh’s gaze dropped
once more to Sarah’s face, but it wasn’t lust Connor saw in his eyes. It was soul-deep longing, loneliness, regret.
When Connor
glanced over his shoulder a few minutes later, Kenleigh still stood there atop the
ridge, watching them as they made their way down the mountainside.
~ ~ ~
Speaking of Defiant, I got the fantastic news that it won Best Historical Romance (not set in the UK) in All About Romance’s 17th Annual Readers’ Poll. That was a huge thrill! I’m sure Connor would be gratified — and suitably smug — if he knew. Thank you do all of you who voted for it. There was a time when I thought the MacKinnon’s Rangers series was dead. You helped ensure that it lives on.
Thank you!
Friday, January 11, 2013
Book News!!! Reissues, print editions, and more
Here at Casa Clare, 2013 is already off to a crazy busy start. I’ve begun working on Striking Distance again, after taking a hiatus. I’ve never struggled with a book so much before, but I’m finally moving forward and very happy with what I have now.
Meanwhile, we’re less than a month away from the big reissue of Ride the Fire (Kenleigh-Blakewell Family Saga, Book 3). The book will be released on Feb. 5 with a new cover, a fresh edit and the long-awaited epilogue... I can’t wait!
As many of you know, Ride the Fire was a very special book for me. The inspiration for the story came while I was writing Carnal Gift. Jamie was sent to England to win the support of Parliament in fighting the French (a trip undertaken in real life by Benjamin Franklin). I researched a bit about the war so that I could have Jamie say something more articulate than, “No, seriously, you all really need to help us. Bad things are happening!”
But the story broke so many rules. A heroine who is pregnant by a man who isn’t the hero? Extremely graphic violence? A hero with serious physical scars? The Colonial American frontier? A heroine who had been sexually violated as a child?
I think my editor at the time had some doubts, but I didn’t. I was so driven to write this story that nothing else mattered. Somewhere along the way, I discovered my true voice as a writer.
The book was all-consuming for me. I didn’t clean the house. I didn’t give a damn about my job at the paper and dropped to part time. I didn’t do anything in my spare time but write and drink coffee. This resulted in the Infamous Coffee Shop Incident, which no doubt led to some people’s thinking I was crazy. (Characters should know better than to talk to their writers in public!)
Most of you know that I was sexually assaulted when I was 10. It’s something I’ve been open about for several years now. Ride the Fire became the book into which I poured all of my own personal pain, an experience that was emotionally draining in ways I never would have imagined.
When I finished the book after five short months — a record for me for a historical — I was a wreck. I could do nothing but cry. And cry. And cry. I had intended for the book to have an epilogue, but I couldn’t write it. Could. Not.
My editor read it and was over the moon. She did’t think the book suffered for lack of an epilogue, and so I was official done with it. When it was released, it got rave reviews pretty much across the board, becoming one of my best-selling books.
As a side note, Ride the Fire launched my obsession with the French and Indian War, inspiring the MacKinnon’s Rangers series.
The book has been out of print for ages, but will be back on Feb. 5, polished and preened. I hope you enjoy it!
To celebrate the release of Ride the Fire, we’re hard at work getting new covers made for Sweet Release (Kenleigh-Blakwell series Book 1) and Carnal Gift (Kenleigh-Blakwell series Book 2) and formatting them for publication in print. They’ll be available through CreateSpace, Amazon.com and some other booksellers in copies you can hold. Watch for news about the release dates!
Right now, the first two books in the series are available in a boxed ebook set for $6.99, while the ebooks individually are $3.99.
Other, other news: While the holidays were happening, Breaking Point (I-Team #5) was released on audiobook by Tantor Audio. The entire series, minus the novellas, is now available in audiobook format. I’ve listened to the first four and loved what the talented Kaleo Griffith has done with the narration. Right now, I’m about an hour into Breaking Point and enjoying that as well.
So that’s the book news for the moment. A reissue for Ride the Fire just around the corner. Print versions of Skin Deep, Sweet Release, and Carnal Gift. The I-Team on audiobook. And Striking Distance is finally moving forward.
One last note: I won’t be online as much as I have been the past year. I just need to pull my attention inward and focus on Javier and Laura’s story. But I will pop in when I can, and when I do, I’ll share excerpts!
Friday, December 07, 2012
Audiobook Update — plus other book news
I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. Things got busy around here with my sister’s arrival from Sweden, and now suddenly it’s December.
Lots of things are going on, so I thought I’d give you all a quick update.
First, as many of you know, there’s been a delay in getting Unlawful Contact out. The book was available in audio CDs as of this past Tuesday. It isn’t yet available on Audible.com or iTunes for download, but I know it will be soon.
I haven’t listened to the book yet, so I’m feeling just as impatient as everyone else. I am dying to hear what Kaleo Griffith did with Marc Hunter, and I know many of you, especially those of you suffering from OKD — Obsessive Kaleo Disorder — are, too! Click here for the audio sample.
Naked Edge is on schedule for a Dec. 17 release date, and there is a audio sample available on Tantor Audio’s website. I was really impressed with the way Kaleo voiced Grandma Alice and Grandpa Red Crow in this scene, excerpted from the beginning of the book.
And just today I received the unfinished cover image for Breaking Point, which Kaleo is recording right this very minute and which is slated for a Dec. 31 release.
No word yet whether the I-Team novellas will eventually be a part of the audiobook series. Because I own the rights to Skin Deep myself, I hope to get that novella published as an audiobook, too.
But I’ve got more going on that I want to share.
Right now, I’m working to get the first two books in the Kenleigh-Blakewell Family Saga — that’s Sweet Release and Carnal Gift — put together as a boxed set. The set should be available around Dec. 12 on Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble’s website for download to Kindle and Nook at a special discounted price for the holidays.
AND... I’m working to get Skin Deep published in print. Yes, print! I’ve gotten so many messages from readers who don’t have ereaders and who don’t want to read the book in the cloud or on their computers. SO... my goal is to have Skin Deep available in print before the end of the year!
I took most of the month of November off from writing. I’ve been working on different aspects of Striking Distance with a goal of taking up the pen again next week. The book got bumped back to a Nov. 5, 2013, release date. I wasn’t happy with what I had so far and knew I’d have to rush to finish it on time. I just couldn’t do that. My editor was very understanding and said she’d rather have a good book than a quick book. As sorry as I am to make you all wait, I think you’ll appreciate it in the end.
My sister is spending the weekend with me, which means we’ll be decorating, listening to lots of music, talking until late at night. She is the soul I am closest to on this earth apart from my sons, and each and every minute I spend with her is precious.
Let’s all enjoy the approaching holidays with those we love!
Friday, August 12, 2011
Sweet Release available as an ebook! EXCERPT
Sorry I’ve been away so long. RomCon took up last weekend, and work has been so incredibly busy that I’ve barely had time to breathe. I had a wonderful time meeting readers — thank you, Batbabes for my lovely bracelet! — and other authors. I met Julie James in person. She’s gorgeous and smart as a whip. I got to spend more time with Tara Janzen and Cindy Gerard, the dynamic duo. Loretta Chase got my bracelet untangled from my hair. Good times!
And now... I have an announcement.
It took much more time than I thought it would, but Sweet Release, my very first novel, is available again. For the past year, the only place readers have been able to find it is in used book stores. Even the ebook versions were taken down after I got my rights to the novel back from the original publisher.
Now, Sweet Release is available for download on Amazon.com and Smashwords.com and a bunch of other formats.
What a strange experience it was to go back to this book, which I hadn’t read since it was published in 2003! As I read it, I decided that my writing has improved dramatically since I wrote that first book. Some things actually made me cringe.
But the story is still incredibly precious to me. It took me seven years to write, a year to edit and then I had to find an agent…
In all a decade of my life went in to Alec and Cassie’s story. I started writing it when Alec was 7 and Benjy was 4. Benjy’s fascination with pirates folded into the story in Jamie’s character, which was created with him in mind.
The book doesn’t contain new material, but it is freshly edited. I took the published version of the manuscript and edited it line by line, removing all the cringe-worthy bits and improving the actual writing without changing the story.
For those of you who haven’t tried my historicals or haven’t tried this series, here’s the blurb from the back of the book:
For five pounds in sterling, the convict was hers. Though Cassie hated the slave trade, her Virginia plantation demanded the labor, and she knew this fevered man would surely die if she left him. But as his wounds healed and his muscled chest bronzed in the sun, Cassie realized Cole Braden was far more dangerous than his papers had indicated—for he could steal her breath with a glance and lay siege to her senses with a touch.
Abducted, beaten, and given a new name, Alec went from master of an English shipbuilding empire to fourteen years of indentured servitude in the American colonies. There, he was known as Cole Braden, a convicted ravisher and defiler of women. And while he longed to ravish the auburn-haired beauty who owned him, he knew his one hope of earning her love—and his freedom—was to prove his true identity. Only then could he turn the tables and attain his ... Sweet Release.
And here is an excerpt from the “shackling scene” that everyone loved when Cassie decides to play a game with the convict she owns and loves:
“You’re on time, convict.” It took every ounce of determination she had not to smile or giggle. “That’s good. It will go easier on you.”
Cassie could see in his eyes the moment he understood her game. His look of confusion was replaced by surprise and then amusement before his gaze grew cold and hard. “I’m to be punished, then?”
“I can no longer tolerate your insolence, convict. I mean to teach you a lesson.” It was good she had rehearsed her lines. It would have been impossible to say them else.
Was she really going through with this?
He leaned against her bedpost nonchalantly, crossing his arms. Defiant and confident, he reminded her so much of the man he’d been when she’d first purchased his indenture. “And what makes you think I’ll cooperate, mistress, when I could just as easily break your pretty neck?”
“You’ll find what I have in mind far more pleasant than what you’ll receive if you disobey.”
“I see.” His gaze raked over her body in blatant sexual appraisal, and she shivered in anticipation. “And just what do you have in mind?”
“Undress—slowly.”
He raised an eyebrow, then untied his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. It fell, forgotten, at his feet. Candlelight cast the bronzed muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen in glorious high relief. He reached for the opening of his breeches and began to untie them, his muscles shifting beneath sun-bronzed skin.
Cassie felt desire flow like warm brandy through her veins. “Slowly, convict.”
His gaze locked with hers again as ever so slowly he pulled on the ties, undid his breeches, and let them drop to the floor. He was rock hard, his sex thick and heavy.
She found she could scarcely breathe. “Your hair. Remove the thong.”
Not breaking eye contact, he reached back with one hand, and his dark hair slid free, falling just below his shoulders. He looked untamed, fiercely male, and, with his lash scars, not a little dangerous. He stepped toward her.
She stepped back and pointed to the bed. “Stop! The shackles. Lock one end around your right wrist, then pass the chain behind the bedpost, lie down, and lock the other end around your left wrist.”
He looked at the bed and saw the shackles. She heard his quick intake of breath and saw a shadow pass over his face. Then it was gone.
“Don’t you trust me, fair mistress?” His voice was dark as sin and soft as velvet. His eyes held the allure of every man who’d ever tried to beguile a woman into a false sense of sexual safety.
“Never.” She smiled and spoke in a rich, seductive voice she didn’t know she had. “But I will have your complete cooperation.”
“I see.” Naked, he walked to the bed, picked up the shackles, and closed one end around his right wrist. It locked with a click. He sat and moved backward across the bed, then reached behind his head and passed the chain behind one of the bedposts. “What makes you think these chains will protect you?”
“Do it, convict.”
He lay down, then reached back to cuff his left wrist. Click. He lay diagonally across the bed, completely vulnerable. His arms were stretched over his head. His chest rose and fell with each breath. His rigid sex stood defiantly against his abdomen. His legs, spread slightly, stretched the length of the bed, his feet hanging just over the edge. A tremor passed from Cassie’s belly to her sex.
His gaze, cold and menacing, bored through her. “Do you like what you see?”
“Aye, convict. And it’s good for you that I do.” Almost trembling with excitement, she loosened her bodice until her breasts were visible. Then she moved to the bed and began to caress him, first his feet, then his ankles and calves. Where her hands touched, her lips and tongue soon followed. She heard his breath quicken, felt his muscles tense, and reveled in his response. She worked her way up his muscular legs and over his powerful thighs, but, although she touched the sac that carried his seed, she did not touch his shaft. “You’ve a remarkable cock, convict.”
He groaned in frustration. The chains caught on the bedpost, clinking as he strained against them. “Is this to be my punishment then? To be tortured with kisses, soft hands and words?”
Some part of her she’d never known awoke within her, and she felt herself grow more daring. Like a cat toying with its prey, she stretched across the bed beside him. She ran her fingers teasingly on his abdomen, outlining his erection.
“Your punishment is that you shall see, but you shall not touch. You shall want, but you shall not receive—not until it pleases me.”
Coming soon... Carnal Gift.
This is Jamie’s story. All grown up and off to Britain to ask Parliament for help at the beginning of the French and Indian War, he visits a friend of his, a nobleman, Lord Byerly, to ask for his support in Lords. But Byerly is a changed man, and offers him a poor Irish girl as a gift to warm his bed.
That’s how the story begins, but this won’t be Carnal Gift as you all know it. More than 100 pages were cut from the story before it was published, changing the book entirely. I finished writing it after covers were printed, and it was simply too long. On top of that, the original publisher had a limit on how many pages they would publish. They didn’t bother to tell me that. So I had to endure the distress of seeing an entire subplot disappear from eh story and then watch as a book I hadn’t written was released with my name on it.
But now the book will be published as I wrote it with all 100 pages restored. Not only that, but I gave it a re-edit, as well. I have to say the writing here was light years ahead of Sweet Release, but it was still good to clean it up and update it a bit.
Carnal Gift isn’t up yet, but it will be sometime next week. I’ll let you know when it is available. It’s a long, meaty read now. I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally have the book I wrote available for you to enjoy.
Please help me get out the word about these two stories through Twitter, Facebook, reviews, blogs, etc. Thank you!
To celebrate the re-release of my first novel, I’m giving away an ebook copy of Sweet Release. To be included in the drawing, all you need to do is post below.
Have a great weekend!
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
It's RomCon time again!
It’s RomCon time again!
This weekend, I’ll be hanging in A-Town — that’s Aurora for those who haven’t read Hard Evidence — and spending some time with other romance novelists and, best of all, romance readers.
I wanted to share my schedule for those of you who plan to attend RomCon so that we can make sure to hook up somewhere during the course of the weekend. I’m not staying at the hotel — I just don’t feel like it — so connecting with me will only happen before/during/after these events.
Thursday
8:30-9:30 PM, RomCon Social — I think this is in the Vail room. This is where RomCon “buddies” meet up. This pairs experienced RomCon people with newbies and authors with readers.
Friday
11:10 AM-12:05 AM — Contemporary Author Panel. I’ll be on the panel with a wonderful group of authors: Carly Phillips, Dee Davis, Meg Benjamin, Pamela Clare, Shayla Black, Sherrill Bodine. Some of us are bringing books to give away. I’ll have copies of Breaking Point with me.
6:30-10:30 PM, Wild West Night Dinner — I hope to saddle me a cowboy. (Unlikely since mostly women attend this conference, but one can hope.)
Saturday
10:10-11:05 AM — Pamela Clare’s True Stories Behind the I-Team — Featuring special guest Vince Darcangelo. (Does anything about that name sound familiar?) I’ll be bringing actual copies of newspaper articles, photographs and maybe video (if I can figure that out). Vince, who worked with me for three years, will help me share details about the investigations that eventually fused with my imagination to create the I-Team series. This should be a lot of fun. I just hope someone attends! If not, I guess Vince and I can do a lot of catching up.
11:20 AM-12:15 PM — Intimate Chat /BatBabes Reader Group & Pamela Clare. Who are the BatBabes? I guess I’ll find out, won’t I? Vince Darcangelo might also attend this event.
Sunday
9-9:55 AM — RomCon Readers' Crown Social. Breaking Point was a finalist for the Readers Crown for Romantic Suspense. It didn’t win, but, hey, it was a finalist, right? This is a pre-brunch social for finalists, readers and winners. It’s very early in the morning, so I can’t guarantee I’ll be there.
10:10 AM-11:30 AM — READERS CROWN Awards Brunch. Last year, I sat with Tara Janzen and Cindy Gerard. We were like this Romantic Suspense power table or something. They wonderful, and I adore them both. The food was quite good for a breakfast brunch buffet. I had a custom-made omelet.
12-2 PM — RomCon® Rumble. I have no idea what this is, but apparently I signed up to participate. Yeeha!
This is the only conference I’m attending in 2011 due to the demands of my job and of my writing schedule. I’ll be meeting with authors who are old friends and some, like Julie James, who is a wonderful new friend. Jenn LeBlanc will be there with her cover model. I’m hoping to get some MTM action at the conference.
If you’re at RomCon, be sure to track me down to say hello!
In the meantime, I’ve been very busy trying to get Sweet Release and Carnal Gift, my first two books, re-edited and up as ebooks. Sweet Release will have a fresh edit but no new material. Carnal Gift, however, will have 100 previously unpublished pages, and I can’t wait to have it up. But I’ll share more on this next week.
I am also working on Defiant, of course, and eager to finish it and get Connor into your waiting arms.
Also, those of you who want to hang out and have some I-Team fun — okay, so it’s mostly hot chesticles — should join the new private Pamela Clare’s I-Team on Facebook. I decided to start a new group and set it up as private so that our posts are visible only to members and not all of the Facebook universe.
Have a good second half of the week, everyone. I haven’t been around a lot lately, but I’m still here.
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