Posted in #Book, Author, blog, Book, Historical, Middle Grade, Syfi, Tracey A Wood, Writer

The Powder Horn of Mackinac Island by Sandy Carlson – Book promo

25/06/17

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Powder Horn of Mackinac Island 333x500

 

The Powder Horn of Mackinac Island by Sandy Carlson

Genre: Middle Grade (8-12

 

year old reader) Science

 

Fiction, or for the

 

historically-minded adult

 

Word Count: 34,000

 

About the book

Arianna’s family now owns a souvenir shop on Mackinac Island, the perfect place to make money fo

Arianna’s family now owns a souvenir shop on Mackinac Island, the perfect place to make money for her paraplegic brother’s surgery. No motor vehicles are allowed but there are plenty of horses, making the island safe enough for Luc to have mobile freedom in his wheelchair all summer long.

When Arianna and Luc accidentally discover that a powder horn that’s been in their family for many generations can send them back in time to 1793, they meet their great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, the person who carved the treasure map on the powder horn. How can the siblings convince their ancestor to let them in on its secrets?

To complicate things, Luc finds he can walk there, in the past, and he doesn’t want to return to the present where his surgery is uncertain, and a wheelchair may be his life. Arianna must choose between discovering the treasure and bringing her brother back to the present.

 

excerpt

The family plan was to head north, but my best friends Bella and Caitlyn were hopeful I would find options, alternatives, additional possibilities. I’d heard the reasons why I had to go with Mom and Dad and Luc to northern Michigan for the summer, and why my older sister got to stay home. I wouldn’t have minded so much if only it wasn’t sixteen million miles from Chicago, and for the entire summer. My protests about the unfairness of me having to go came up as empty as downtown Chicago during a blizzard.

“I could stay home with Melissa,” I suggested as I handed Mom a dirty supper plate for the dishwasher. “We’d almost never fight.”

“You know Melissa needs to earn money this summer for college,” Mom said. “And Delly’s Deli will pay her more than we could. It’s simple economics.”

Without consulting me, simple economics entailed dumping all our family money into purchasing a souv

Without consulting me, simple economics entailed dumping all our family money into purchasing a souvenir shop. They expected to make bundles of money to cover my brother Luc’s operation and have enough left over to be rich-rich-rich. Maybe enough for a family trip to Europe or a flight to the moon.

Worst part? They planned to turn Luc and me into store slaves for the summer.

No, the really worst part was I wouldn’t get to see my friends all summer long. What good is having a summer vacation without your friends? It was going to be torturously long. I did want Luc to get his operation, and I wasn’t out to make things difficult for Melissa. I just wanted to stay home, too. Be with my friends. That’s all.

Mom put on her teacher smile. “Staying here will be good preparation for Melissa being on her own. Besides, the Simons are next door, and Rachel Simons practically lives over here, anyway. Melissa won’t be lonely.”

“I could stay to make sure. Help chaperone them or something,” I said, putting on my most brilliant smile.

Mom shook her head no while putting the last of the silverware into the dishwasher.

“Maybe I could stay with Caitlyn’s family, or Bella’s?” As soon as the words fell from my mouth I wished them back. Too late. Mom had already rolled her eyes. I shouldn’t have included Bella’s p

“Maybe I could stay with Caitlyn’s family, or Bella’s?” As soon as the words fell from my mouth I wished them back. Too late. Mom had already rolled her eyes. I shouldn’t have included Bella’s parents in that plan.

“Arianna Jean Trebuche.” Her using my whole name was like turning the lock on a door. End of any back and forth discussion. “It’ll be a fun adventure,” she said.

Read that as Boring!

“There’s lots to do on Mackinac Island besides the store,” she continued. “Bikes and horses to ride. You might even dress up in some of those period costumes from the eighteenth century. Wouldn’t that be fun? Besides, Luc needs you.”

“Luc needs me like he needs a fifth wheel. You baby him way too much, Mom.” I turned and headed upstairs to my room.

Some pe

Some people think people in wheelchairs are helpless. They don’t know our Luc. He’s smart, clever, funny, and wins races. He’s not treated differently because he’s stuck in a wheelchair, it’s because in our family, Luc, at ten, is the youngest. Melissa’s seventeen. Last April I officially became a teenager, a whopping thirteen. And we all know the babies of the family really are treated differently.

When we were younger, Luc and I shared everything, especially secrets in our treehouse. Luc would pull himself onto the swing seat and tug on the rope pulley Dad attached to the tree branch until he got himself through the Trebuche Tree door. It was our not-so-secret hideaway. No one else went up there, not even Caitlyn and Bella.

I used our upstairs hall landline and called Bella, the B member of our ABC club.

“No go,” I said when she answered.

“This stinks,” Bella sa

“This stinks,” Bella said. “How come they can’t see you’re responsible enough to stay?”

“I know,” I groaned.

“Did you mention the thing about staying at my house, or at Caitlyn’s?”

“Yes. I even tried staying with Melissa under the Simons’ watchful eye.”

“We’ve got parents living over here, right in the same house—real adults. Sort of.”

I snickered. A year ago, Bella’s parents went through some sort of mid-life crisis and learned to ride motorcycles. They’d gone hog-wild—that’s motorcycle talk—buying leather jackets and bike accessories and made the neighborhood noisier. Not the kind of adults my teacher-parents would trust to look after their little darling all summer.

“So, have you started your Summer Dreams essay for Mrs. Harrison’s class?”

“Ha!” I answered. “My summer will be a nightmare.”

“There’s still the Internet, Ari,” Bella said. “We’ll message every day, and don’t forget chats and video calling and cell phones.”

“More than every single day,” I replied.

****

Before I could say Hallelujah, school’s out, seventh grade ended. After that, Bella and Caitlyn and I had a moanful see-ya-later sleepover where we finally drifted off about three AM. The parents finished their teaching jobs. Then, earlier than we ever got up on a school day, we Trebuches squeezed all our summer essentials into the van, with three bikes hanging from the back. Luc rose on the van chair lift, and then I clamped his wheelchair firmly into place and climbed in the seat next to him.

“You have the treasured powder horn?” Melissa asked through the open van window. She pushed her wavy long brown hair away from her face.

“Of course, dear,” Mom said. “We’ll send you pictures as soon as we display it.”

“Put it someplace where everyone can see it,” Mel instructed. She was a lot like Mom—bossy. At least with the two of them separated, it would make a quieter summer for the rest of us.

The heirloom powder horn had passed from father to son through the generations of Trebuches from Jean Luc Trebuche, a fur-trading French ancestor. This Jean Luc is the

person Luc is named after, and me, too. Well, my middle and last name, anyway. Down through the generations, we’ve called it the Treasured Powder Horn. With capital letters. I don’t know why. Maybe it once held gold nuggets instead of gun powder. It could have been in a museum, but Mom and Dad both used it in their classes for math exercises or history-English lessons. Great-great-something-grandfather Jean Luc must have been drunk when he carved it. Although his name in fancy script across the top was obvious, squiggly lines went around the horn. There was also a random U or a C on it and a V or a <, depending on which way you held it, along with an X by a bitty tree.

“Now don’t you go worrying about us, sweetheart,” Dad said to Melissa as he adjusted the driver’s seat. “You just take care of yourself. We’re only a phone call away.”

As Dad pulled the van out, I waved to Melissa until we were out of sight. Luc slipped on his headphones and loaded up an action movie in his player. I got out my music.

“Can’t you kids at least wait until we’re on the interstate before playing those things?” Mom asked. “There’s so much to see.” She said those exact words at the start of every trip.

Get your copy:      Amazon

 

About the Author

Sandy Carlson was born in Michigan and has a long-standing connection with Mackinac Island. She first visited the island as a child, then as a young mother with her husband and two sons, and several times since. Every visit has vibrated with magic—from the fresh water sea breezes, to the history, to the wooded trails, and, of course, to the horses.

Sandy is first a storyteller. As a child, she loved telling stories to her siblings, cousins and friends, and later started writing them down. Besides a Family-Comes-First motto, Sandy is a former teacher who now does school and library author visits.

She may or may not have seen mythical creatures while alone in the woods.

Social media links

Website & Blog: http://www.sandycarlson.com

Pinterest boards: http://www.pinterest.com/authorsandycarl/

Twitter: @sandycarl (authorsandycarl)

FaceBook page: https://www.facebook.com/#!/sandycarl

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=149756032&trk=hp-identity-photo

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5770699.Sandy_Carlson

Amazon Central Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/sandycarlson

OR http://www.amazon.com/Sandy-Carlson/e/B00IWU681K

 

 

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Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Historical, Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Tour, Writer

Changing the Earl’s Mind by Kristen McLean – Book Tour + #Giveaway

22/06/17

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Changing the Earl’s Mind
The Lords of Whitehall Book 3
by Kristen McLean
Genre: Historical Romance
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A man who knows everything…

For nearly a decade, Drake Ramsey, the disciplined and logical Earl of
Saint Brides, has been the driving force behind the Home Office;
meeting with foreign leaders to negotiate treaties, spurring a
lethargic Parliament into action, and directing a secret army of
spies. The last thing he wants to find while taking a well-deserved
vacation is a dangerous fugitive. Nevertheless, when he catches a
beautiful murderess hiding in his hunting cabin, he has little choice
but to bring her to justice, landing himself in a battle for control
he could never hope to win.
meets a woman determined to prove him wrong.
Marrying a stranger simply to gain access to her dowry and travel the world,
admittedly, was the biggest mistake of Sarah Tindall’s life. In
fact, she would readily admit to making several big mistakes. Killing
her husband, however, is not one of them. When a starchy lord takes
it upon himself to bring her to a London prison, she is determined to
escape him and prove her innocence, yet every attempt ends with her
back in her handsome captor’s arms. Even if her innocence is
proven, his forbidden and passionate kisses leave her uncertain if
escape was ever an option.

 

*WARNING*
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually
active characters portrayed in this ebook are eighteen years of age
or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence,
and explicit language offends you.
**Can easily be read as a standalone!**
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Kristen McLean is a regency-era romance novelist with a flair for humor and
suspense. She has always had a love of novels, with a special place
in her heart for historical romance. Now she has the pleasure of
writing at home, tucked away in a forest with her husband, two
children, and their cat. Her husband is loving and impressively
patient, their two beautiful children strive to embarrass and exhaust
her, and the cat hates everyone, but tolerates—well, she tolerates
whoever will feed her.
For the latest on Kristen McLean’s book releases, events, and giveaways
subscribe to her newsletter at kmromance.com
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Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway
!
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Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Historical, Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Tour, Writer

The Most Dangerous Duke in London by Madeline Hunter – Book Tour + #Giveaway

21/06/17

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The Most Dangerous Duke in London
by Madeline Hunter
Genre: Historical Romance
 **
NOTORIOUS NOBLEMAN SEEKS REVENGE
Name and title: Adam Penrose, Duke of Stratton. Affiliation: London’s
elite Society of Decadent Dukes. Family history: Scandalous.
Personality traits: Dark and brooding, with a thirst for revenge.
Ideal romantic partner: A woman of means, with beauty and brains,
willing to live with reckless abandon. Desire: Clara Cheswick,
gorgeous daughter of his family’s sworn enemy.
FAINT OF HEART NEED NOT APPLY
Clara may be the woman Adam wants, but there’s one problem: she’s far
more interested in publishing her women’s journal than getting
married—especially to a man said to be dead-set on vengeance.
Though, with her nose for a story, Clara wonders if his desire for
justice is sincere—along with his incredibly unnerving intention to
be her husband. If her weak-kneed response to his kiss is any
indication, falling for Adam clearly comes with a cost. But who knew
courting danger could be such exhilarating fun?
**
mdd- excerpt
**

The Duke of Stratton was becoming a serious inconvenience. Part of the joy of being an older woman known to be uninterested in marriage was that people tended not to notice what she did. Clara had enjoyed that freedom even before her father’s death and now did so even more because she occupied Gifford House alone.

Stratton’s curiosity about her complicated that. Now here she was, sitting in his carriage when she should have been visiting the decorator she had hired to make some changes at her house on Bedford Square. Since no one knew about the house, she could hardly have the duke trailing her there.

She did not care for how he maneuvered her into spending this time with him. She resented that he had won a little contest.

“Do you prefer town? You spend a good deal of time here,” he said once they were seated across from each other and the coachman had opened the carriage to the air.

From anyone else she would think it small talk. From this man, she heard an intrusive question. “I like both town and the country. I spend time in both places. However, after all the months at Hickory Grange after my father’s funeral, it was time to see some friends here and dip one foot into society again.” Even as she said it, she worried that she gave him too much information.

“Your bluestocking friends?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do when you are not talking letters with them?”

“If I told you, I would no longer be intriguing and mysterious.”

It was a mistake to say that. She knew it as soon she said it. His dark eyes settled on her, amused and too confident that he saw more than she wanted. That gaze unsettled her. She found it stark, almost naked, in its demand for her attention. It implied intimacies of the spirit that she did not

want to have or acknowledge.

She hurried to brush her own provocation aside. “You will find my interests very boring and feminine. I visit drapers and feast my eyes on the fabrics I cannot wear now. I stroll through warehouses and covet silk cords and laces.”

“Why not buy them now and store them until you can use them?”

“Because the anticipation is part of the fun. There is the danger it will build to a fever, however, and when I finally remove these black ensembles, I will be so reckless in my spending on a new wardrobe that Theo will have to bail me out of debt.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

She knew then that this man had learned about the size of her inheritance. Had Theo told him? Perhaps he had only heard gossip, but that would be enough.

It entered her mind that his only reason to pursue her with that stupid proposal was her fortune. As if the Duke of Stratton needed that! Although, really, who knew if he did or did not? She had not investigated him the way he had obviously investigated her, although she intended to.

Still, a man after her fortune. How predictable. How commonplace. How disappointing.

Once they were in the park she asked her own questions, while she encouraged their stroll to leave the main path so they might not be seen together.

“Would you truly not mind if the woman you proposed to had a lover before you? You keep implying as much.” She thought it a sophisticated and arch query and waited for him to avoid the meal once she set it squarely on a plate in front of him.

“You are what, twenty-four years in age? Only a fool would require innocence of a woman of that maturity.”

“What a liberal outlook you have.”

“I like to think so. I am only being a bit strict with you because I cannot risk my heir being the son of another man. I am sure you understand.”

She looked over at him, hoping to see that little smile or anything that indicated his continued references to his proposal were now a private joke. Regrettably, he appeared most serious. She decided that objecting would only dignify the ridiculous notion, so she ignored it.

Since he had coerced her into spending this time with          him, he could not object to some frank questions about his life and his family, especially if he really believed they would marry. Althea was charged with investigating this man, but every bit added to the pile would help.

“Why did you leave?” she asked while they strolled through a little copse of budding trees.

“It was time to come back.”

“I did not mean why did you leave France. Why did you leave England?”

His mood altered in a snap, as if the question opened a door to the dark humor she sensed in him. “My mother did not want to remain here after my father’s death, so I took her away and ensured she was settled in Paris.”

“She wanted to go home, you mean. That is understandable.”

“She had lived here for decades. This should have been her home, not a foreign land to escape. There were those who never welcomed her, however, or allowed her to make

her place here.”

“If she is happy in France now, that is what matters, isn’t it?”

“I did not say she was happy. She did not want to return to France. She just did not want to remain here.

His sharp tone made her stop walking. “I am sorry if I misunderstood. I was careless in my response. Of course she could not be happy to leave her home of so many years.” She swallowed the question that begged to be asked. Why did she not want to remain here?

They stood under one of the trees, in the tangle of linear shadows its branches made.

“Do you really know so little about my life?” he asked. “Did you never hear the talk about my mother? You were out before she left. Before my father died.”

She did not have to search her memory long to remember some of the talk she had heard. Her grandmother’s voice always dripped with disdain when she mentioned Stratton’s French duchess. Grandmother was one of the people who suspected the worst of everything and everyone French during the war.

Others had sniffed when the Duchess of Stratton walked by at a ball, however. Clara had always assumed they envied her beauty and sought bad gossip out of spite. In truth she had not much cared what people said, however. The old war between her family and Stratton’s had left her unsympathetic to whatever slights were visited on his mother.

“I will admit, now that you speak of it, that I do know something of what she endured,” she admitted. “If that drove her away, it was not fair.”

To her surprise he took her hand and raised it to a kiss. “That alone did not do it. However, it is good of you to see how unfair it was.”

That kiss on her hand, brief though it was, created a bridge of intimacy. She felt that kiss all the way up her arm and down her body. His gaze captured hers before he kissed her hand yet again, slowly.

She did not pull her hand away. She did not avert her eyes, as she most definitely should. Instead she stared while that kiss and those dark eyes enlivened her whole body.

He drew her closer, closer, until she either had to step toward him or fall. She did a bit of both, stumbling awkwardly, and found herself in his arms.

He was going to kiss her. She was sure of it. That must not happen. Instead of pushing away, however, she could not move. His gaze paralyzed her and incited an unseemly excitement.

His arms embraced her. He looked down. Dazed, she closed her eyes and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

When nothing happened, she opened her eyes. Instantly the euphoria lifted, and she felt a fool. She tried to extricate herself from his embrace, but he did not allow it.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked.

“Of course not. You are the last man I want kissing me, I assure you.” She refused to look at him and continued trying to pull away.

“That is not true. Let us be honest with each other in this if nothing else.” His head dipped and his lips hovered over hers.

Her breath caught. Heavens, but he was beautiful. And exciting. Even that darkness seduced. Thrills kept spiraling through her, begging to have excuses to become something more powerful.

“Part of the fun is the anticipation,” he said quietly, imprisoning her with his gaze. “Although there is always the danger of it building to a fever.” His lips brushed hers, ever so faintly, but enough to create a starburst of sensation.

It was a terrible tease. A provocative promise.

**

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Madeline Hunter is a New York Times bestselling author with more than six million copies of her books in
print. She has twenty-nine nationally bestselling historical romances in print, including most recently,
The
Wicked Duke
, Tall, Dark, and Wicked, His Wicked Reputation, and The Accidental Duchess. A member of
RWA’s Honor Roll, she has won the RITA Award twice and been a finalist seven times. Her books have appeared on the bestseller lists of the
New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly, and have been translated into thirteen languages. She has a PhD in art history, which she has taught at the university level. Madeline also writes the Romance Unlaced column for USAToday.com’s Happy Ever After site.
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Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts and a giveaway!
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Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Historical, Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Story, Tour, Writer

FORBIDDEN KNIGHT by Diana Cosby – Book Tour + #Giveaway

19/06/17

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FORBIDDEN KNIGHT
by Diana Cosby
Genre: Historical Romance
Pub Date: 6/6/17
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Deep within Scotland, a healer and a
warrior join forces to protect Scotland’s future . . .
There is an intruder in the woods near
King Robert Bruce’s camp, but when Sir Thomas MacKelloch comes
face-to-face with the interloper, he is shocked to discover his
assailant is a woman. The fair lady is skilled with a bow and arrow
and defiant in her responses. The wary Knight Templar dare not allow
her beauty to lower his guard. Irritated by his attraction, he hauls
her before his sovereign to expose her nefarious intent.
Outraged Sir Thomas dismissed her
claim, Mistress Alesone MacNiven awaits the shock on the arrogant
knight’s face when he learns that she has told the truth. But it is
she who is shocked, and then horrified, as it is revealed that her
father, the king’s mortal enemy, has betrothed her to a powerful
noble, a deal that could jeopardize the king’s efforts to unite
Scotland. Robert Bruce orders Sir Thomas to escort Alesone to safety.
As they embark on a harrowing journey through the Highlands, Alesone
tries to ignore her attraction to the intimidating warrior, but as
she burns beneath Thomas’s kiss she realizes this fearless knight
could steal her heart.
**
fk- excerpt
**

A frustrated exhale sounded behind Lady Alesone.

“Do you always interrogate the people you meet?” Sir Thomas asked.

Though tired, Alesone smiled.  “Only the interesting ones.”

Ice crunched beneath the horse’s hooves as his destrier picked his way through the litter of rock and snow down the incline.

At her protector’s silence, she glanced back.

In the cloud smeared moonlight his gaze held hers.

At the intensity, a shiver swept through her.  From their less than cordial start, she’d doubted they’d ever come to a point where she’d look at him more than a man to avoid.  Yet, something about Thomas drew her.

Drew her?

An understatement.  In truth, from the way his eyes held hers, his direct manner, and how he moved with predatory stealth left tingles of awareness sliding through her body.  He was unlike any man she’d ever met.

Off balance by the needs he evoked, she shifted to a safer topic.  “I want to apologize.”

“You have done naught to apologize for.”

“I have.  Although praised by our king, I doubted you.”

“Lass,” he said, fatigue weighing heavy in his voice, “your belief in me is irrelevant.  Once you are safely delivered, never will we see the other again.”

She stiffed, hurt that he could dismiss her with such ease when he lingered on her mind.  Why?  ‘Twas nae like she wanted him to stay.  Still, a foolish part of her needed to know.  “And when you ride off you will forget me?” she teased.

Thomas grunted.  “Anyone who drives an arrow paces from my heart I remember.”

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A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an
international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic
suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers series are
translated in five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of
Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day,
on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com,
Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.
After her career in the Navy, Diana
dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves
behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the
amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. With
the release of her first two books in her new Scottish medieval The
Oath Trilogy, An Oath Taken and An Oath Broken, both which hit
bestseller lists in the U.S., Canada, and the United Kingdom, as well
as the release of the e Box Set of the MacGruder Brothers series, she
is now preparing for the release of the last book in The Oath
trilogy, An Oath Sworn on 23 December, 2015!
Diana looks forward to the years of
writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this
journey.
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Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
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Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Epic, Fantasy, Historical, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Tour, Writer

The Last Wife of Attila the Hun by Joan Schweighardt – Book Tour + #Giveaway

15/06/17

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The Last Wife of Attila the Hun
by Joan Schweighardt
Genre: Epic Fantasy, Historical
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Two threads are flawlessly woven together in this sweeping historical
novel. In one, Gudrun, a Burgundian noblewoman, dares to enter the
City of Attila to give its ruler what she hopes is a cursed sword;
the second reveals the unimaginable events that have driven her to
this mission. Based in part on the true history of the times and in
part on the same Nordic legends that inspired Wagner’s Ring Cycle
and other great works of art, The Last Wife of Attila the Hun offers
readers a thrilling story of love, betrayal, passion and revenge, all
set against an ancient backdrop itself gushing with intrigue.

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Joan Schweighardt is the author of five novels, and more on the way. In
addition to her own writing projects, she writes, ghostwrites, and
edits for individuals and corporations.
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Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway
!
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Posted in #Book, Author, blog, Book, Cover Reveal, Historical, Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Tour, Writer

Forbidden Desire by Tina Donahue – Cover Reveal

15/06/17

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Forbidden Desire
Pirate’s Prize #3
by Tina Donahue
Genre: Historical Romance
Pub Date: 12/5/17
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In paradise, the only limits to passion lie in your imagination…
After a life filled with hardship, landing on a lush tropical isle is heaven on earth
for mariner Heath Garrison. And it comes complete with two angels
who bring out the very devil in him. Identical twins Netta and Aimee
are guileless and seductive, living and loving without jealousy.
Days of longing, nights of carnal bliss make choosing one over the
other seem impossible, but hungering for both sisters is taboo.
Aimee and Netta’s devotion to each other helped them survive the vicious pirates who
overran their home. Will a virile Englishman come between them now?
When their enemies return, determined to vanquish the islanders for
good, Heath races to save them along with his countrymen. But
survival will bring a choice—between the life Heath has known, and
a love that changes all their destinies…
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Tina Donahue is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist in erotic,
paranormal, contemporary, and historical romance for traditional
publishers and indie.
Booklist, Publishers Weekly, Romantic Times and
numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic
novels (
Freeing the Beast, Come and Get Your Love, and Wicked Takeover)
were Readers’ Choice Award winners. Another three of her erotic
novels (
Adored; Deep, Dark, Delicious; Lush Velvet Nights)
were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition.
Sensual
Stranger
, her erotic romance, was chosen Book of the Year 2010 (erotic
category) at the French review site, Blue Moon reviews. The Golden
Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for her
erotic romance
Lush Velvet Nights. Deep, Dark, Delicious received
an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition.
Take
Me Away
captured second place in the NEC-RWA contest. And The
Yearning
was honored with an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition.
She’s featured in the 2012
Novel and Writer’s Market.
Before penning romances, she worked in Story Direction for a
Hollywood production company.
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Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, Bewitching Book Tours, blog, Book, Historical, Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Tour, Writer

The Bad Luck Bride by Jane Goodger – Book Tour + #Giveaway

10/06/17

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THE BAD LUCK BRIDE
by Jane Goodger
Genre: Historical Romance
Pub Date: 6/13/17
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Welcome to St. Ives, the charming
seaside town where even a down-on-her luck bride might find her way
back to love . . .
**
As if being left at the alter for the
third time isn’t bad enough, Lady Alice Hubbard has now been dubbed
“The Bad Luck Bride” by the London newspapers. Defeated, she
returns to her family’s estate in St. Ives, resolved to a future as
a doting spinster. After all, a lady with her record of marital
mishaps knows better than to dream of happily-ever-after. But then
Alice never expects to see Henderson Southwell again. Her beloved
brother’s best friend disappeared from her life soon after her
brother’s death. Until now…
Alice is just as achingly beautiful as
Henderson remembers. And just as forbidden. For the notorious ladies’
man made one last promise to Alice’s brother before he died—and
that was never to pursue her. But one glimpse of Alice’s sorrow and
Henderson feels a powerful urge to put the light back in her lovely
eyes, one lingering kiss at a time. Even if it means falling in love
with the one woman he can never call his bride . . .
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If only her fiancé had died five minutes after the ceremony instead of five minutes before, Alice wouldn’t be in her current, unfathomable, situation.

A terrible thought, yes, but there was never a truer sentiment to go through her mind.

He was late. Her current and very much alive fiancé was terribly, horribly, embarrassingly late, and the vicar was giving her sad looks and the congregation was whispering, and Alice felt like she might scream for them all to just shut up. Harvey Reginald Heddingford III, Viscount Northrup, whom she actually liked (the first of her three fiancés whom she actually had liked) had apparently grown ice cold feet.

It wasn’t much of a surprise, actually.
The night before he’d seemed…off. Distracted. Overly nice. Guilty. That’s when the first niggling feeling of doubt touched her but she forced herself to ignore it. Certainly three men couldn’t leave her at the altar. Though to be fair, Bertram Russell, her second ill-fated fiancé, was ousted by her enraged father long before she’d set foot in the church. Bertram had been found out—not one week before their planned nuptials—to be a complete fraud. He made ordinary fortune hunters seem like innocent children dabbling at seducing marriage out of highly placed, rich women.

One dead. One fraud. One very, very late.

This could not be happening again. She stood in the vestibule with her father and sister, dread slowly wrapping around her like a toxic fog, making it almost impossible to breathe. As she waited for her groom to make an appearance, knowing he would not, Alice vowed she would never, ever, be put in this position again. When she saw Vicar Jamison coming toward the spot where she stood with her father, Alice knew it was over. She couldn’t seem to gather the energy to cry and in fact had the terrible urge to laugh, something she sometimes did at the worst possible moment. Actually, other than feeling a bit off kilter and extremely humiliated, she felt nothing at all. Certainly not heartbroken.

“Lord Hubbard,” the vicar said, giving her father a small bow. “It may be time to address the congregation.”

Her dear, dear, papa looked at her, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I think I must.”

Alice nodded and pressed her hands, still holding her silly bouquet, into her stomach. God, the humiliation. This was far worse than Bertram and, well, poor Lord Livingston was deemed a tragedy, not a humiliation. People at least felt sorry for her when her first ill-fated husband-to-be dropped dead waiting for her to walk down the aisle. Just five more minutes and she might have been a widow, and a widow was a far better thing to be than a jilted bride.

It was all her sister’s fault. Christina had been fussing with her gown, fixing something in the bustle, insisting that Alice would never get the chance to be a bride again (what a lark) and everything must be absolutely perfect for that most important day when Alice would have become a baroness. And then Lord Livingston died, right then, right as he walked toward the front of the church. Dropped like a stone without warning and was dead before he hit the hard marble floor with a sickening thud. Instead of Lady Livingston or Lady Northrup, she was still Miss Hubbard and it looked like she would be Miss Hubbard for the rest of her days.

Christina stood, eyes wide with horror, as their father walked slowly to the front of the church. The large room became deathly quiet, and Alice turned, grabbed her sister’s arm, and walked out the front door of the church. She couldn’t bear to see the pity in their eyes, nor the tears in her mother’s. Certainly Mama had never suspected her eldest daughter would once again be abandoned by her groom. Thank God they’d decided to get married in London and not St. Ives, where the villagers would have likely gathered to celebrate her marriage. No one was about except for the normal crowds.
“I’ll murder him,” Christina said feelingly when they reached their carriage. The startled footman hurriedly dropped the steps and then handed the sisters into the carriage, which was meant to carry the happy

couple to their wedding breakfast.
Alice tore off her veil then gave her ferocious sister a weak smile. “I think he was in love with Patricia Flemings.”

“No!” Christina said with the conviction of someone who cannot accept the fact that anyone could choose a Flemings over a Hubbard. Their father, Lord Richard Hubbard, was the third son of the fifth Duke of Warwick, and though he held no title, his connection to the great duke had put their family firmly in the lofty realm of the ton. Christina adored working “my grandfather, the Duke of Warwick” into as many

conversations as possible, no matter what the topic. At eighteen, Christina was looking forward to her first season and was no doubt wondering how this latest wedding debacle with her sister would hurt her chances of

making a good match.

Alice realized she was officially a hopeless case, and would no doubt become the terrible punch line to jokes told from Nottinghamshire to Cornwall. You’ve heard of Alice Hubbard—or is it Miss Havisham? Charles Dickens had done her no favor by portraying a jilted bride as such a bitterly tragic character. Alice didn’t feel bitter, at least not at the moment, but she suspected she could not escape the label of ‘tragic.’ Now she would have to hide away for a time at their country estate in St. Ives, which wasn’t such a sacrifice, as St. Ives was her favorite place in all the world. Perhaps in her elder years she could be chaperone to her sister’s beautiful daughters. She would be known by them as “my poor spinster aunt who never found love.”

Three fiancés and she had hardly tolerated any of them, never mind loved them. She’d only loved one man in her life but he, of course, did not love her. And that, perhaps, was the most humiliating thing of all.

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Jane Goodger lives in Rhode Island with
her husband and three children. Jane, a former journalist, has
written seven historical romances. When she isn’t writing, she’s
reading, walking, playing with her kids, or anything else completely
unrelated to cleaning a house.
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