Thursday, October 31, 2013

Halloween Special Day 4

I will be giving away an autographed copy of my novel, Dreams of the Highlander to one lucky commenter!

Enjoy this excerpt!

Chapter 1

“Love looks with the mind, not with the eyes.”

William Shakespeare

Newtonmore Scotland, 1701

“Mairi,” he whispered.

“I love ye with all of my heart.” The evidence of that love clung to her soft voice.

Alexander swallowed the lump of fear that rose in his throat. “I love ye, too.” He lowered his gaze to their beautiful son nestled in his arms. Brown hair dusted the little head and he gently ran his hands over the silky forehead as he fought back tears.

“I want ye to be happy, Alexander.” A blanket of confusion covered him as she turned away in sadness to stare out the window.

“What are ye saying, Mairi? Ye’re going to be fine.” He said it with as much conviction as he could muster. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb slowly brushing strokes back and forth.

Alexander readjusted himself on the bed. She turned then, to stare back into his eyes, her hand grasping his. The sadness had left and in its place, determination settled in.

“No, I won’t and we both know it.” She swallowed with difficulty. “Promise me, Alexander. Promise me ye willna grieve for me forever.” He watched, stunned, as her hand dropped from his.

Alexander heard his mother sobbing in the background as he sat there with his stillborn son held tightly in his arms and watched his wife slip peacefully from this world.


Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Halloween Special Day 3

Hi, Sarah. Thank you for inviting me to your Halloween celebration! For the occasion, I’d like to tell you and your fans about Dearest Irish (Texas Devlins, Rose’s Story) – book three in my Texas Devlins trilogy. I will also give away a Kindle or Nook copy of this book to one lucky reader who comments and leaves a contact email address.

A story filled with adventure, romance and passion, Dearest Irish also contains a rather “spooky” element. Although the story begins and ends in Texas, much of this Native American/paranormal romance takes place in the Indian Territory, ca. 1876. Offering a glimpse of reservation life and the prejudice faced by mixed race couples, it features a uniquely gifted heroine.

Rose Devlin, like her older siblings, possesses psychic talent inherited from a hidden line of Irish Celtic Druids stretching far back in time. Rose is blessed with the extraordinary ability to heal with her mind, a secret gift which has caused her great pain in the past. She also keeps another terrible secret that may prevent her from ever finding love.

Choctaw Jack, a half-breed cowboy introduced in Dashing Irish (book two in the trilogy), straddles two worlds, dividing his loyalties between his mother’s people and the family of a friend who died in the Civil War. Like Rose, he keeps shocking secrets. If they ever come to light, he stands to lose his job, possibly his life. Yet, after his chance discovery of Rose’s amazing gift, he risks everything, kidnapping her from her brother’s Texas ranch in the belief that she can save his dying mother.

As Jack spirits Rose north to the Indian Territory, she comes to accept his reason for abducting her but fears the unwanted feelings he stirs within her. Along the way they’re tested by natural forces and individuals, both white and red, who revile Jack and scorn Rose for riding with him. However, far greater challenges lie ahead. Rose’s healing power and courage will be pushed to their limits, while Jack finds the greatest risk he faces is caring too much for his lovely paleface captive.

Book Excerpt: This scene is where Jack discovers Rose’s secret gift.

Jack eased past the open barn door and glided noiselessly into a dark corner where Miss Devlin wasn’t likely to see him if she happened to glance his way. Unable to sleep thanks to the aching gash in his back and his unwanted thoughts of Tye Devlin’s pretty sister, he’d gone for a walk. Moments ago, he’d been on his way back to the bunkhouse, determined to sleep, when he spotted the young woman leaving the main house. Curious, he’d followed her to the barn, careful to remain in deep shadows in case she turned to look behind her.

Now, he watched her walk quietly to the last stall on the left, where Tye had placed the troublesome stallion. She paused outside the enclosure, raised her lamp to see the horse, and began to speak in a soft tone. Jack crept closer, straining to hear what she said.

“Hello, darlin’. Come here to me. Ye needn’t be afraid. If you’ll let me, I’ll try to take the pain away.” She continued to croon reassuring words until, to Jack’s amazement, the horse limped over to her and extended his head over the stall gate. As docile as a pet pony, he allowed her to scratch his forehead and rub his muzzle. All the while, she kept talking to him in that soft, sweet tone.

Jack was fascinated by the sight, but when she lifted the latch, preparing to enter the stall, he tensed in alarm. He opened his mouth, ready to order her not to go in there with the dangerous stallion, but something stopped him, perhaps the horse’s calm behavior. Or maybe he was just curious to see what the fool white woman would do next. Edging closer still, he watched her enter the stall. She didn’t bother closing the gate, and Jack expected the mustang to make a break for freedom, but surprisingly, the horse didn’t move.

Setting her lamp down near the gate, Miss Devlin slowly approached him, offering her hand. He snuffled at it and allowed her to step close. She gently stroked his neck, causing a visible tremor to pass over the glossy brown surface. The stallion butted her with his head, obviously liking her touch. She giggled and scratched around his ears. Jack shook his head, hardly believing his own eyes. The woman sure did have a way with horses.

She went on talking to the big brute as she slowly stroked downward along his injured right foreleg. He gave no sign of fear or rebellion, although he did shift sideways when she touched the sore area. She said something Jack couldn’t understand, in Irish? – and the horse immediately settled. Then she squatted, rubbed her hands together briskly, and wrapped them around the swollen part of his leg. She bent her head and her lips moved, praying, Jack guessed.

All at once the stallion whinnied and danced away from her. Jack prepared to dash into the stall and drag her to safety, but she calmly rose and resumed speaking to the wary horse.

“There now, don’t be afraid. I’m sorry it hurt for a moment. ’Tis feeling better now, aye? By morning you’ll not know ’twas ever sprained.” She moved close again, patted the mustang’s neck and gave him another good scratch around his ears. He nickered softly in response.

“There’s a good lad,” she murmured. “Now, I’d best be getting back to my bed. Good night to ye.” With a final pat, she bent to pick up her lamp and exited the stall.

While she paused to latch the gate, Jack slipped out of the barn, not wanting to get locked in there. He hid himself in deep shadows again and waited while the young woman struggled to replace the heavy board that barred the doors. He would have helped but didn’t want her to know he’d been spying on her. He also didn’t want to frighten her.

Once she was safely inside the main house, he headed for his bunk. Sleep eluded him as before, this time because he was anxious for daylight so he could see the results of Miss Devlin’s midnight visit. As soon as dawn broke, he rolled out of bed, pulled on his boots and strode back to the barn. The brown stallion greeted him with a fierce neigh and charged the stall gate. However, he didn’t try to knock it down, evidently having learned his lesson yesterday. He stopped short, stuck his head out and bared his teeth. Smiling at the threatening display, Jack stayed well out of reach.

What interested him was the horse’s right foreleg. Crouching to look it over between the slats in the gate, he clearly saw the swelling had disappeared and the horse wasn’t favoring the leg at all. It appeared completely healed. Jack straightened and slowly retraced his steps to the barn’s open doorway. Crossing his arms, he stared at the house.

“So, Rose Devlin, you do have magic. You’re a medicine woman.” He chuckled. “You’re also a little liar.”

Purchase Dearest Irish here: (Kindle & paperback) (Nook at Barnes & Noble)

Monday, October 28, 2013


I am continuing the Halloween special with Author NANCY LEE BADGER! Nancy is giving away an e-book copy of her book, DRAGON BITES! All you have to do is leave a comment. Please leave an email address so that it is easy for me to contact you if you are the winner. 

DRAGON BITES: Scottish Dragon Tales in Ebook or Print by Nancy Lee Badger

DRAGON Bites is three books in one! It is a collection of three similarly themed novellas previously published as individual ebooks.

DRAGON'S CURSE, set on the Scottish island of Staffa in the late 16th century, features a young man cursed to transform into a dragon at inopportune times.

SOUTHERN FRIED DRAGON pairs a Scottish dragon-turned-woman and a federal soldier at Ft. Sumter on the eve of Civil War.

DRAGON IN THE MIST is a contemporary love story on the shores of Loch Ness. This short story won 1st Place in its category in the 2012 Self-Published Stars Contest.

DRAGON Bites is available in ebook and trade-size paperback.

Buy Links

Amazon Ebook
Amazon Print
NOOK Ebook
Barnes&Nobel Print




Connect with Nancy Lee Badger
Amazon Author Page

Sunday, October 27, 2013


Today I am interviewing author, Joanne Guidoccio. Enjoy the interview and leave a comment. Joanne is giving away a $10 gift certificate to Amazon. Be sure to leave your email address so I can contact you if you win. 

The lawyer shook his head. “I still don’t understand why your mermaid has to be old and fat.”

“Fifty-three is not that old.” I ignored the weight issue.

He persisted. “It is when it comes to mermaids. Why couldn’t you just let her be young, thin and beautiful?”

Thankfully, the conversation was interrupted by the facilitator’s call to resume the workshop. A few minutes more and I might have lost patience with the annoying lawyer who simply wouldn’t accept my vision of an older mermaid.

Since releasing Between Land and Sea, I have encountered varied responses to the overweight, middle-aged mermaid abandoned on the fog-drenched shores of southwest England.

Women, of all ages, were intrigued and happy to hear about a mermaid who is not so young or so beautiful. Boomers, especially those struggling with relationships, embraced the idea of an older mermaid. A recently divorced friend confided that she hoped to get several pointers from Isabella’s journey. In her Amazon review, English teacher Colleen McConnell described it as “a classic wisdom tale with a twist...reminiscent of Jane Austen.”

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that many thirty-something and forty-something women were also interested in Isabella’s reinvention story. Among the twenty-something crowd, the reactions varied. My niece, Christina, summarized it best: “We’re still at the invention stage.”

Very few men were as argumentative as the lawyer. My male friends and relatives wanted to hear more about the unconventional mermaid and the international banker who dumped her. Several were amused by the concept of a mermaid carrying extra pounds and one asked if the artist was planning to feature an overweight mermaid on the cover.

Any thoughts out there about older, wiser mermaids...


After giving up her tail for an international banker, Isabella of the Mediterranean kingdom is aged beyond recognition. The horrified banker abandons her on the fog-drenched shores of southwest England, leaving her to face a difficult human journey as a plain and practically destitute fifty-three-year-old woman.

With the help of a magic tablet and online mermaid support, Isabella evolves into the persona of Barbara Davies. Along the way, she encounters a cast of unforgettable characters, among them former mermaids, supportive and not-so-supportive women, deserving and undeserving men, and several New Agers.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Interview with Author, B.J. SCOTT

Highland Homecoming by B.J. Scott

Author bio: With a passion for historical romance, history in general, and anything Celtic, B.J. always has an exciting work in progress. Each story offers a blend of romance, adventure, suspense, and, where appropriate, a dab of comic relief. Carefully researched historical facts are woven into each manuscript, providing a backdrop from which steamy romance, gripping plots, and vivid characters—dashing alpha heroes and resourceful, beguiling heroines you can’t help but admire—spring to life. A member of RWA, World Romance Writers, Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, and Savvy Authors, B.J. also writes contemporary, paranormal, time travel, and romantic suspense.

C.S. Lewis first captivated B. J.’s imagination in the fourth grade, and her desire to write sprang from there. Following a career in nursing and child and youth work, B.J. married her knight-in-shining-armor, and he whisked her away to his castle by the sea. In reality, they share their century-old home in a small Canadian town on the shore of Lake Erie with three dogs and a cat. When she is not working at her childcare job, on her small business, or writing, you will find her reading, camping, or antique hunting.

Book Blurb: The last thing Alasdair Fraser expects to find on an isolated beach in Northern Scotland is a beautiful, unconscious lass. Unable to turn his back on someone in need, he delays his journey and tends to her injuries–an act that has him questioning his destiny and his plans to rejoin the fight for Scotland’s independence.

Will he drop the shield that guards his heart or will the secrets she fails to reveal and his own stubbornness keep them apart forever?


Northern Coast of Scotland. Summer 1308

Hooves pounded against rocks, surf, and sand as Alasdair Fraser pushed his mount beyond reasonable limits. Few things rivaled the thrill and exhilarating rush of mastering the powerful destrier between his thighs, controlling the magnificent beast with reins and will. The wind whipped through unbound hair and the tangy scent of the salty sea air filled Alasdair’s nostrils.

He’d ridden hard all afternoon, hoping to reach the stronghold of his longtime friend, Jayden Sinclair. But the sun had slipped below the horizon, the twilight sky ablaze with orange, red, and purple hues. Darkness would soon be upon him and he’d be forced to make camp for the night. He licked his parched lips and his stomach rumbled. Many hours had passed since he’d last eaten, but a hot meal and a tankard of ale would have to wait. Water, oatcakes, and a bit of dried venison would suffice until he reached his destination.

He dug in his heels, and the steed surged forward. The more distance they covered before nightfall, the shorter the journey would be on the morrow. But as they rounded a bend in the shoreline, Odin faltered, reared up on his hind legs, then began to dance nervously from side-to-side. The battle-hardened warhorse didn’t spook easily so Alasdair took heed of the animal’s uneasiness.

With one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other fisting the reins, he carefully surveyed the immediate area. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, yet the niggling of trepidation gnawing at his gut led him to believe there was something amiss. He nudged the horse’s flank and the pair advanced with caution.

They’d only traveled a short distance up the beach when the sight of something a few yards ahead at the water’s edge brought them to an abrupt halt. With his heart hammering in his chest, Alasdair cupped his hand over his brow and narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look. The image came into focus and he could make out the unmistakable outline of a person sprawled out on the shore.

“What is it, Odin? Or, should I say, who is it?”

While this could be someone in need, it might also be a trap, an enemy or bandit lying in wait. Without hesitation, Alasdair slid from the saddle, pulled a claymore from the baldric slung on his back, and raced down the beach on foot. Stopping a few feet away, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Mo chreach!”

He sheathed his weapon and took a step closer. A young woman, wearing nothing more than a thin nightrail, lay motionless in the sand, the waves of the incoming tide lapping at her bare feet.

Buy links

Highland Homecoming( book 3 of Fraser Brother Trilogy)

Highland Quest (book 2 of Fraser Brother Trilogy)

Highland Legacy: (book 1 of Fraser Brother Trilogy)

Where to find B.J. Scott.