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 Sweet Release. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sweet Release. 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!
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
MacKinnon’s Rangers Challenge, Excerpt & Giveaway
As of the moment I write this, we’re only 35 days away from the release of Defiant, the long-awaited third book in my MacKinnon’s Rangers series. Since Untamed was released in 2008, I’ve gotten daily emails asking me when Connor’s story would be released.
Now, that day is just around the corner.
To prep for it, I’m asking those of you who read the first two books to reread them with me so the details are fresh in your mind. I challenge those of you who already have Surrender and Untamed in your TBR to take this as the Sign You’ve Been Waiting For to take them out, dust them off, and read them at last.
Forced to start a company of Rangers and to fight for the British, Iain is on a mission with his two younger brothers, Morgan and Connor, when he sees the lone survivor of a French and Indian raid on a homestead fighting for her life. Despite orders to stick with his mission and not interfere, Iain cannot let her be slain. He turns command of the Rangers over to Morgan and saves Annie’s life — at a very high cost to himself. Thus begins his adventure with the woman who will bring beauty and gentleness back into his war-weary life.
Amalie’s father was killed by a Ranger, and it takes great heart for her to overcome her anger and grief so that she can care for Morgan. But Amalie is all heart. And soon Morgan means far more to her than she imagined. She knows the plan is to hand him over to the MacKinnon brothers’ mortal enemies, the Abenaki, once he has recovered, and she knows the Abenaki will burn him to death. She cannot bear the thought of him suffering so terribly, and looks for a way to save his life.
Defiant begins about two weeks after Untamed ends in March of 1760. And to celebrate my good news (below), I will share an excerpt that features Lord William. I had a special request for just such an excerpt, and I aim to please.
First my two bits of exciting news:
The reviews for Skin Deep have been overwhelmingly positive, which is encouraging. I know novellas can be a big disappointment. It’s very difficult to fit significant character development and plot into such a small amount of space. I tried very hard, and given the number of you who loved Nate and Megan’s story — and who are now demanding a story for Jack West — I feel like I succeeded at least a little.
I hope to have another I-Team After Hours novella written for you by this fall. But first I’m going to finish the next full-length I-Team novel because I heard a rumor that some of you would like that. I don’t have a title yet, but I will soon.
Second, Sweet Release, my first novel and the first book in the Kenleigh-Blakewell Family Saga, is at this moment the No. 1 FREE download for Kindle. It was the No. 1 FREE download for iTunes, too, but is now No. 2 there. Carnal Gift, Book 2 in that series, has risen to the No. 4 spot for historicals on iTunes and was #37 on Kindle historical romance this morning. So thank you again!Here are the links. It won’t be free much longer. This is part of a special promotion and will end soon.
Kindle — http://amzn.to/LtiwpS
iBooks — http://bit.ly/Jv8h5u
Kobo & others — http://bit.ly/Jg2b7H
I’ve had a lot of inquiries about Ride the Fire. It is currently out of print, but is being reissued in February 2013 by Berkley. The reissue will feature the never-before-published (and as-yet-unwritten) epilogue. As many of you know, Ride the Fire has long been a reader favorite. I also consider it to be the book where I found my true voice as an author of historical romance. I cannot wait to share it with you all!
And now without further ado, I bring you a man you love to hate — Lord William Wentworth.
~ ~ ~
“My dearest Uncle, I most humbly beseech Your Lordship that you forgive my Boldness and make haste to aide me. Such Affronts and Sorrows have I faced of late, that I must plead for Your Lordship’s Protection. I dare write nothing that other Eyes might behold, so I shall say no more. I humbly beseech Your Lordship to grant me Permission to travel to Albany that I might lay bare my Plight to you in person. Please, I pray you, Uncle, if ever Your Lordship held me in Affection, help me now.
“Yours most bound and forever,
Sarah Woodville.”
Lord William looked up from the letter and stared out the window into the darkness, the fingers of his left worrying the cracked marble chess piece he always kept in his vest pocket—the black king Lady Anne had broken two summers past.
This was his fault.
When Sarah had written to him pleading for his help, he’d had misgivings, but he’d ignored them. At the time, he’d been worried about smallpox and measles, both of which had hit Albany hard this winter. He hadn’t imagined it possible that Indians would dare strike so close to town with the war all but won and three thousand of His Majesty’s troops billeted here.
He’d been wrong.
How he wished now that he had denied her request and employed some other means of learning the truth of her situation, but the thought that she might truly need his help had overthrown all else, so he’d relented, arranging for her passage northward. Bright-eyed, inquisitive, and talented beyond measure upon the harpsichord, she was the only member of his rather large and unpleasant family about whom he gave a damn.
The last time he’d seen her had been six years ago just prior to his voyage to the Colonies. She’d been but twelve years old and still very much a child. Though her body had only begun to show signs of approaching womanhood, it had been clear to all that she would grow to become a woman of surpassing beauty. William’s sister, secretly a severe Lutheran, had restricted her daughters to long hours of daily Bible study and needlework to prepare them for marriage and motherhood. She’d been openly distressed by her youngest child’s beauty and passion for music, deeming both dangerous to Sarah’s immortal soul.
But William had found Sarah refreshing and had indulged her when occasion allowed, secretly taking her to hear chamber music and lending her books about history, art, and music theory. He’d even let her play privately on the harpsichord before His Majesty, her skill astounding and delighting the old man. But perhaps his sister had been right to restrict Sarah. Perhaps she’d seen something in her daughter that William had not.
Last summer, Sarah had caused such a scandal that her father had sent her away, depositing her not in the family’s estates to the north, but on the other side of the world in New York with Governor DeLancey, an old family friend. When William had inquired as to the nature of the scandal, his sister had written to say that decency forbade her even to mention it. Even knowing his sister’s penchant for exaggeration when it came to matters of sin, William had been intrigued by this, but the summer campaigns had prevented him from inquiring further. He’d hoped to hear the unspeakable truth of it from Sarah on this visit.
But now she was out there somewhere, a captive of men who would not hesitate to do unimaginably cruel things to her.
As second in command of His Majesty’s forces in the Colonies, William had heard all the tales—accounts of cruelest torture, maiming, rape. They’d always just been words on parchment to him, nothing more than the cost of war. This one burnt alive, that one beaten and sold, this one adopted and forced into heathen marriage.
But the thought of Sarah enduring such a fate…
In truth, William didn’t give one whit what happened to the other two captives so long as Sarah was returned to him alive and unscathed. MacKinnon had probably guessed as much. He’d seen the disgust on MacKinnon’s face when MacKinnon had heard that one of the captives was William’s niece.
For a moment, I thought you’d grown a heart.
How could William expect an uncultured brute like MacKinnon to understand that Sarah was worth more than a thousand common colonial women?
“Pardon me, my lord.” Lieutenant Cooke’s voice came from the doorway.
William turned to face him. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
Cooke bowed neatly. “I asked local churches to hold observances this evening so that prayers might be said for your niece. Services at St. Peter’s begin in a half hour.”
“Well done. Thank you.” It was then William remembered he was in a state of undress, his wig sitting forgotten on his desk, his coat draped over a chair with his cravat.
“If I may be of any assistance, my lord… ”
William gave a consenting nod, his gaze drawn back to the window.
“Don’t worry, my lord. Major MacKinnon will bring her safely home.”
~ ~ ~
I tried to find an excerpt that wasn't available anywhere else, but all other scenes with Lord William contained enormous spoilers, and I couldn’t do that to you.
I promise you that you will see Lord William as you’ve never seen him before in this story. His beloved niece, Lady Sarah, falling in love with Connor MacKinnon?
To launch the MacKinnon’s Rangers Re-Read and ‘Get ’em out of your TBR’ Challenge, I’m giving away one signed copy each of Surrender and Untamed for those who want to participate but don’t yet have the books. To be entered to win, just comment below.
And thanks for reading!
Friday, May 25, 2012
Book News! Sweet Release is FREE, plus an excerpt
May has been such an incredibly busy month. I can’t believe it’s almost over! Is anyone else’s head spinning?
My big news for this morning is that Sweet Release, my first historical novel, is FREE for a short time on Amazon.com, iTunes and Smashwords.com. That means anyone with a desktop, laptop, ereader or tablet can read it for FREE. It’s my hope that those of you who’ve never read one of my historicals or who’ve never read my books at all will give it a try.
The story is set in 1730 Colonial Virginia and took me seven years to write, partly because my kids were little and partly because that was the time in my life when I was deeply involved in hardcore investigative journalism. The stuff you read about in the I-Team books was happening during the time I was writing this book and the few that followed.
For some of my readers, Sweet Release remains their favorite. The heat between Alec and Cassie is strong, and story has a bit of flipped power dynamic with the hero being owned by the heroine. When my readers talk about the story, they inevitably bring up “the shackling scene,” in which Cassie starts a little role-playing sex game with Alec involving, well, shackles.
Here’s a sexy excerpt:
Cassie stifled a giggle at the thought of what she was about to do. When she’d told Alec she would punish him for defying her, she’d been jesting. Then an idea had begun to form in her mind—a startling, irresistible idea. Over the course of the evening, the idea had become a plan. She’d decided at least a dozen times not to go through with it. It was, she knew, not the sort of thing young ladies from good families did with men — even after they were married. It was positively indecent, which made it all the more enticing. In the end, curiosity — and the desire to give Alec the surprise of his life — had won out over propriety, and she had decided to stick with her plan.
She glanced nervously into her mirror and smiled conspiratorially at her reflection. Her hair was twisted stylishly upon her head, a few curls tumbling down her temples and at her nape. Her cheeks and lips were touched with rouge, her eyes lined with color. She wore the same ivory silk-and-lace gown she’d worn to Geoffrey’s birthday party — the one she’d worn when she’d first called Alec by his real name. She looked ready for a ball — except, of course, there was nothing beneath the gown.
Nothing.
She smoothed her skirts and looked around the room one last time. He’d arrive any minute. The candles on her bedside table cast a warm glow over the room. The covers of her bed were already turned down. In the middle of the bed lay the only pair of shackles she’d been able to find on the plantation. Though old and unused for years, they still worked. The key hung on a silken cord between her breasts.
The creaking of footfalls on the stairs told her he had come. She smoothed her skirts nervously, her heart pounding. Could she really do this? She felt herself start to smile, but forced it away. A quiet knock came at the door. The handle turned. Alec stepped in and turned to close the door. He looked so handsome, dressed in a clean linen shirt and breeches. She had to fight the urge to rush forward and fall into his arms.
“Cassie, love, I . . . ” He turned toward her, staring. “You look beauti—”
“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, primally 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.”
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.”
She glanced nervously into her mirror and smiled conspiratorially at her reflection. Her hair was twisted stylishly upon her head, a few curls tumbling down her temples and at her nape. Her cheeks and lips were touched with rouge, her eyes lined with color. She wore the same ivory silk-and-lace gown she’d worn to Geoffrey’s birthday party — the one she’d worn when she’d first called Alec by his real name. She looked ready for a ball — except, of course, there was nothing beneath the gown.
Nothing.
She smoothed her skirts and looked around the room one last time. He’d arrive any minute. The candles on her bedside table cast a warm glow over the room. The covers of her bed were already turned down. In the middle of the bed lay the only pair of shackles she’d been able to find on the plantation. Though old and unused for years, they still worked. The key hung on a silken cord between her breasts.
The creaking of footfalls on the stairs told her he had come. She smoothed her skirts nervously, her heart pounding. Could she really do this? She felt herself start to smile, but forced it away. A quiet knock came at the door. The handle turned. Alec stepped in and turned to close the door. He looked so handsome, dressed in a clean linen shirt and breeches. She had to fight the urge to rush forward and fall into his arms.
“Cassie, love, I . . . ” He turned toward her, staring. “You look beauti—”
“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, primally 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.”
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.”
This is your chance to download the book for free. Please help me spread the word. And if you haven’t already read it, I think you’re in for a treat. Originally released in 2003, it got a 4.5-start Top Pick review from RT Book Reviews and Alec was the recipient of their KISS Award.
If you don’t have an ereader, you can download a PDF version from Smashwords (the third link above), or you can download a free Kindle or Nook application from Amazon or B&N that will enable you to read the story on whatever computer you’re using to be online now.
Enjoy!
I would like to thank all of you who helped make the release of Skin Deep so much fun. It seemed like the book had been available for all of two hours by the time people were posting reviews. The feedback has been overwhelmingly positive, both for the main story and for the short story “Marc & Julian Make a Beer Run.”
This is my first 100-percent self-published book, so I was thrilled to see the response. I was away at my younger son’s college graduation last weekend, but I found myself laughing every time I logged on because so many readers flipped straight to the back to read the short story.
Thanks to everyone helped push Skin Deep up to No. 18 on B&N and into the low 200s on Amazon.com. And huge thanks to all of you who tweeted and posted on Facebook and your blogs. I announced the contest winners for the three free copies of Skin Deep in the last comment on my previous blog, so if you posted and were hoping to win, please check. Maybe you did. I’ve only heard from one of the prize-winners so far.
It’s available right now on Amazon.com for Kindle, B&N for Nook, and Smashwords for everything else. It’s not yet available in iBook format because it takes such an extraordinarily long time for ebooks to get through the system and up on iTunes. I’ll let you know when it’s posted there. Some readers download the free Kindle app to their iPads so they can read Kindle versions and not wait for iTunes.
If you haven’t yet read Skin Deep, I hope you’ll give it a try. If you enjoyed it, I hope you’ll share that with your reader friends.
Other news:
 |
| Benjamin and his girlfriend Lucy pose for the parental paparazzi immediately after the ceremony. |
Benjamin graduated Summa Cum Laude from Ithaca College last Sunday in a ceremony that had me in tears several times. I was so proud of him and his friends — Lucy, his girlfriend, and Del, his wonderful roommate from freshman year. Benjamin now has a B.S. in Cinema and Photography and already has a job in his field, working as an assistant editor for Sender Films in Boulder. They do climbing porn — rock, alpine, ice — which is fun for him, given that he comes from a climbing family. He pulled his first all-nighter this week, helping them get a film ready for a festival and sleeping on the couch after crashing at 4 AM.
The countdown to the release of Defiant, the third book in my MacKinnon’s Rangers series is about to begin. The book — the longest story I’ve ever written — will be out on July 2, so we’ve got a lot of fun and celebration ahead. I’m so excited to be sharing Connor’s story with you! I cannot tell you want this book means to me.
I’m working on the next I-Team novel now — that’s the as-of-yet untitled I-Team Book 6.
Stay tuned!
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