New Historical Fiction from Lawrence Hogue

This letter from Anthony Cranford, Lord Burnside, to Miss Elizabeth Collington was never posted, the reasons for which may become clear once the reader reaches the end.

Miss Elizabeth Collington

The Parsonage, Leighton, Devonshire

Dear Elizabeth,

My apologies for the impropriety of corresponding with you, but my conscience will allow me to do no other, for I owe you a much greater apology after the events of last week in Bath. To have appeared before you in such a disordered, dissolute state was far from my intention, and I beg your forgiveness. The behavior of Petersly and Hartwood toward you and Mrs. Burgess was unforgivable, and I have now permanently and forcefully separated myself from their acquaintance. I can only hope you will overlook my association with such scoundrels. My only excuse can be that this is the company into which Father thrust me, their own fathers being among his closest allies in the House of Lords. I see now that I have allowed myself to be too much ruled by my father – and in more ways than this.

One question remains about that dreadful night. Did I truly see Mrs. Burgess throw Hartwood to the ground, or was that the fog of drink clouding my vision? Not that he didn’t deserve it, and of course he was as unsteady on his feet as I, but still – her actions seemed unladylike, not to mention indicative of some form of martial training. And afterward, in her behavior toward you as she chided me over Lady Mary, she seemed almost jealous, as if I were somehow a threat to her acquaintance with you. I know that female friendships are quite in vogue, but they can be carried too farI hope you have not formed an inappropriate – I can only call her behavior strange.

As for Lady Mary, I feel compelled to tell you there is nothing between us, nor between me and the three or four other “suitable young ladies” my parents have paraded before me.

For surely you must know, you are the only woman who has ever had a claim on my heart. I knew it from my first weeks at Eton, when you were the person I missed the most. And since then my attachment has only grown, during those few – too few! – occasions between my terms at university which have allowed us to continue our acquaintance.

I know what you will say to yourself as you read this – as your looks and demeanor have told me many times before, though never in so many words – that there can be no chance for a match between an Earl’s son and a vicar’s daughter. I can only hope that this is the only impediment to your considering a match with me, and that you return my feelings in some small measure – and that no other has engaged your affections in my absence.

If heretofore you doubted my will to defy my father, on this and on many other matters, doubt it no more. From this day forward I will stand as my own man. I will have you as my wife, even if my parents disown me, destining me to become the poorest Earl in the kingdom – if only you will have me.

Tomorrow I leave town for Leighton, where I will do what I should have done the moment the highwayman accosted you in my carriage – track down the rogue and bring him to justice. That I have not done so before is perhaps my greatest shame over these past months. I mean to do it myself, but I will call on the services of Bow Street if I must. Protecting his people is a nobleman’s sacred duty, a duty my father too often overlooks, preoccupied as he is by affairs in Parliament or on his West Indian plantations – another of our disagreements. I will now take up the duties he neglects, and first among them, righting the wrong the highwayman did to you. By such means, I aim to re-establish myself in your regard and your affections.

The letter ended there, its author no doubt having realized that such sentiments would be better expressed in person, and that he could travel to Devonshire nearly as quickly as the mail coach.


About  the Book

Twenty-year-old Elizabeth Collington, the proper and obedient daughter of a Devonshire clergyman, believes herself beyond girlish romances. But when a highwayman steals a kiss, along with her departed mother’s necklace, Elizabeth experiences feelings of which her father would never approve. Soon after this unsettling event, a young widow arrives in the village, catching Elizabeth by surprise as their friendship advances quickly to the deepest intimacy she has ever known. Yet the highwayman will not leave her alone, filling her mind with ideas of revolution and her body with sensations of the greatest impropriety. Amidst this swirl of conflicting feelings, Elizabeth hardly has time to consider Anthony, son of the neighboring Earl, whose halting courtship holds out her one slim chance at an establishment in life. Will Elizabeth choose the conventional path, honoring her duty to her father and safeguarding her reputation? Or will she follow the demands of her heart, pursuing a love even less proper than that for a highwayman?

A comedy of manners wrapped around a Gothic tale, a mashup of Jane Austen, Alfred Noyes’ poem “The Highwayman,” Ellen Kushner’s Riverside series, and Robin Hood, Daring and Decorum makes a passionate case for the freedom to love whom one chooses. You might call it, “Racier than Jane Austen, better-written than Fifty Shades of Grey.” Or maybe, “Regency Romance, minus the hunky, shirtless lords.” (What’s left, you ask? Let Elizabeth show you! )

Buy Links for Daring and Decorum:

Amazon | Amazon UK | B&NWebsite | Smashwords


Excerpt

In this scene at the Theatre Royal in Bath, Elizabeth and her widowed friend, Mrs. Rebecca Burgess, are watching Dora Jordan’s performance as Rosalind in “As You Like It.”

I was surprised when Mrs. Jordan received an ovation on her first entrance, for I had never before seen a star of the stage; when I turned to Rebecca in surprise, she assured me it was quite regular. But when Rosalind entered as Ganymede, “suited all points like a man” and exhibiting “a swashing and a martial outside,” the play nearly came to a halt as the audience murmured and some even gasped. The company must have prepared for this disruption, having Rosalind and Celia make a show of their fatiguing trek through the forest before uttering their first lines in the scene, giving the audience ample opportunity to survey them. Mrs. Jordan wore knee breeches that fit her legs like the fingers of a glove, and ankle-high shoes instead of boots, the better to show off the sensuous curves of her calves outlined in the snuggest of silk stockings. Her hair extended just to her collar, making her seem even more like a boy, yet there was also something feminine about her, so that we could never forget that underneath Ganymede’s dress was the woman, Rosalind.

The effect of seeing a woman arrayed in such garb, and strutting about the stage in the wide-legged stance of a man, is such as I can hardly describe. Many others in the audience must have felt the same, for the men leaned forward in their seats, and the fans of the women beat the air all the faster. I too found myself craning my neck for a better look, and felt flushed. Only Rebecca seemed unaffected, leaning back in her seat with just a hint of a smile and an appraising look in her eye. Then she turned to me. “Well? Is she everything you expected?”

“Oh, yes!” I replied, though Mrs. Jordan had yet to utter her first line as Ganymede. When she did, her voice was changed. She had made it lower and huskier, to sound more like a man, yet losing none of the energy and affability that made her performance so appealing. Even in her moments of raillery with Orlando, or chiding Phebe, she had such a good-humored nature to her that the audience could not take her for a shrew or a scold. More, on Mrs. Jordan’s lips, the words were not like speeches at all, but always had the freshness of a new thought or feeling she had discovered only that moment.

The scene in which Ganymede first encountered Phebe was perhaps the strangest in the play, the director having chosen to play it broadly. When Ganymede asked, “Why do you look on me?”, Phebe practically threw herself at him; when Ganymede said, “I think she means to tangle my eyes too,” Phebe leaned up for a kiss, Ganymede averting his face at the last moment (sending another murmur of nervous laughter through the audience); and when Ganymede ordered Phebe “down on your knees,” Phebe knelt and threw her arms around Ganymede’s waist as if she would never let go (to uproarious jeers). I hazarded a glance at Rebecca to see that she no longer sat back in detachment, but was leaning forward, as engrossed as I. She caught my eye and gave me a wink.

When the play neared its end, and all the confusions had been sorted out through Rosalind’s “magic,” I couldn’t help feeling a bit deflated. The four marriages at the end seemed much too neat.

Rebecca must have felt the same, though she sang Mrs. Jordan’s praises and had always shown an appreciation for this above all of Shakespeare’s works. “As much as I enjoy the play,” she said as we made our way into the aisle behind the boxes, “I’m always a little heartbroken for Celia. Here she has forsworn her inheritance, denied her father’s wishes, and left her home and place in society, all because she cannot bear to be parted from her dear Rosalind. And no sooner is all this done than Rosalind throws her heart after Orlando and enlists Celia’s help to try his love for her.”

“Yet surely the love of a friend and the love of a husband are different.” I adjusted my fichu as we walked, in expectation of the colder air outside the theatre. “And what is to prevent their remaining the closest of companions?”

“I have seen it too many times, friends drift apart once they have husbands and children. And it happens so quickly! I know Celia must have been hurt, as you saw when she abused Orlando for being an unfaithful lover. She was simply jealous! This business of Celia falling instantly in love with Oliver—it’s nothing but a paltry attempt to cover her wounded feelings.”

“You sound so cynical, like Jaques the other night! Do you not believe in love at first sight?”

She turned her gaze on me. “Strangely enough, I do.”

Buy Links for Daring and Decorum:

Amazon | Amazon UK | B&NWebsite | Smashwords


About Lawrence Hogue

Lawrence Hogue’s writing is all over the place and all over time. He started out in nonfiction/nature writing with a personal narrative/environmental history of the Anza-Borrego Desert called All the Wild and Lonely Places: Journeys in a Desert Landscape. After moving to Michigan, he switched to writing fiction, including contemporary stories set in the desert and fanfiction based on the videogame Skyrim. He’s a fan of folk music, and got the idea for Daring and Decorum while listening to Loreena McKennitt’s outstanding adaptation of Alfred Noyes’ poem, The Highwayman. When not speaking a word for nature or for forgotten LGBT people of history, he spends his white-knighting, gender-betraying energies on Twitter and Facebook, and sometimes on the streets of Lansing, MI, and Washington DC. He’s been called a Social Justice Warrior, but prefers Social Justice Wizard or perhaps Social Justice Lawful Neutral Rogue.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Amazon

Melissa Ann Spotlight Tour

 Spotlight for Melissa Ann

Series: A Silent Canvas
Title: A Silent Canvas Part One
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre: Historical Romance
$0.99
 
BLURB:

 

When Sarah has just about given up any hope of finding love in her small town, James a widower with a dark past literally comes to the rescue. It soon becomes clear that fate has brought them together for a reason, a chance for Sarah to find love and for James, finding someone to teach him how to forgive himself and to learn to love again. James moved to Black Rock, a small isolated town to escape his past, but a misunderstanding soon brings everything he is trying so hard to forget crashing in the present, opening Sarah’s eyes to some of his darkness. She knows she loves him but can she possibly entertain a future with a man that doesn’t possess the ability to trust?
EXCERPT:

 

The rain is now falling at a steady beat but I refuse to leave my little girl’s grave. With my finger, I trace over the name Amity, which has been delicately engraved into the headstone by my husband, himself. The rain does well to disguise the tears that flow freely down my face, as I lie on the ground beside the headstone. I have an incredible longing to hold my precious child once more. Amity’s death was an unnecessary crime, committed at the hand of someone I had loved very much and someone I never suspected had such darkness inside. Although Edmund is buried on our property, Amity was laid to rest at the local churchyard surrounded by our family and friends. She was loved by everyone and had the unique ability to lift anybody’s spirits with just her presence.
James and I have suffered so much heartache in the past two weeks, I don’t know if I can find the strength to stand up and make the long dreary walk home. As the rain soaks through my clothing, I can feel the cold penetrating my skin and I start to shiver uncontrollably. My eyelids feel heavy and I suspect that it is a result of all the sleepless nights I have been experiencing. All I need is just a little nap and I will feel better…
TEASERS:

 

 
Title: A Silent Canvas Part Two
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre:
Historical Romance
$2.99
 
 
BLURB:

Sarah feels that being alone is much safer for her heart but when a family tragedy forces James to leave Black Rock, she bravely travels to a strange town to comfort him. After James reveals all of his secrets, Sarah agrees to marry him and together they begin their new life. They’re both anxious to start a family, but it’s not happening as quickly as they would like, until they take Edmund and Amity into their home. They raise Edmund and Amity as their own, so when an unexpected tragedy occurs at the hands of someone they love, leaving both children dead, they are devastated beyond belief.
Will their marriage survive this tragedy? Will the secret that Sarah is keeping from James bring them closer together or push them apart?

 



EXCERPT:

“There’s like a hundred buttons. I’ll never get this dress off you. Whoever made this dress certainly didn’t have the events that occur at the culmination of a wedding in mind.”
“Just think of it as unwrapping a present. Your growing anticipation as you become closer to discovering the treasure that lies within the layers you are unwrapping.” I can feel James press his lips down my spine as each button is released, causing a shiver to run through my body.
“Mmmmm, a present, I like that and just so you’re aware… something’s growing all right but it’s not my anticipation.” James whispers into my ear, his lips so close I can feel his breath tickling against my face. I almost melted into a puddle at James’s feet. I’m not even sure my legs will be able to hold me up much longer because his words made me weak with longing. James presses into my back and I can feel his erection, hard and eager to be touched. It’s impossible for me to stop myself from reaching behind me to grasp him in my fist.
Standing back, James pushes my hand away. “You’ve already unwrapped your present, it isn’t proper etiquette to play with your gift before the other guest unwraps theirs.” I let out a low growl of frustration, which James evidently finds amusing if his laughter is any indicator.

TEASERS:

 

 

Title: A Silent Canvas Part Three
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre: Historical Romance
$2.99
BLURB:

 

Little did James
realize the impact opening the letter would have on his life. The letter his
dead father left for him to find
Family secrets
that have remained buried for over two decades surface, leaving James floundering
and wondering what to do.
Certain events
that unfold has James questioning the accuracy of his father’s letter. Will
James finally find the answers he needs to bury the family secrets once and for
all or will he uncover more than he bargained for ?

 

EXCERPT:
As the sun moves
to its most radiant spot in the sky the warmth softens the earth beneath our
feet. We continue to take turns in silence, and with each shovelful of earth,
my apprehension grows. When I’m not shoveling, I am pacing the forest floor, in
an attempt to get rid of the pent-up energy that is humming through my body.
When that doesn’t work, I was begin breaking sticks from fallen branches.
“James, I think I
found something,” Benjamin says quietly. My head whips in his direction, my
heartbeat racing in my chest. I take a deep breath and head over to the hole.
Looking down, I can see what Benjamin is referencing. There is a wooden box at
the bottom of the hole. It’s not very big, but it wouldn’t have to be for a
small child. I take the shovel and start digging around the perimeter of the
box to make it more accessible. I can’t seem to shovel fast enough, and I don’t
stop, even when my arms are screaming and shaking with fatigue. The lid is
sealed tightly, so I start working away at it with the shovel, each stroke
splintering the wood a little more. I start yanking the pieces of wood off the
box, cutting my hands in the process. Benjamin gets in the hole with me and
starts helping me. By the time we’ve cleared away the wood from the top of the
box I can barely close my hands, that’s how mangled they are, but I don’t feel
the pain anymore. I am holding my breath and it is silent aside from the sound
of my heart beating anxiously. I peer into the box and it’s empty. I start to
sob and I can’t pinpoint the exact reason why.

AMAZON UNIVERSAL BOOK LINK

 

TEASERS:
 
 
Series: Unbound by His Love
Title: Unbound by His Love
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre: Contemporary/Suspense Romance
$FREE

 

18+ For mature audience
Newly engaged to Tyler,
Michelle needed to get away,
To escape her controlling fiancé,
So, to Durham College she goes to stay.
Surrounded by friends and a certain boy named Jax,
Michelle finally feels like she belongs.
Jax is a dream come true,
But Tyler’s possessiveness stays strong.
Michelle knows who her heart should pick,
The bass guitarist for a Christian Rock band.
But her boyfriend Tyler doesn’t like to give up what’s his,
Can Michelle risk Jaxon taking a stand?
EXCERPT:
I walk over to my stereo and press play. Linkin Park’s, “Breaking the Habit” breaks the silence. I sit on the carpeted floor and with shaky hands, I carefully pull the cloth away from the instrument of pain nestled inside.
 Tears sting my eyes and I can feel my heart rate accelerate … Is it fear? Adrenaline? Or is it the trepidation of giving into my craving … my addiction. I run my finger along its surface feeling the urge start to take a stronger hold and my resolve is fading fast. Taking the x-acto knife in my hand, I submit to the addiction. I run the tip of my finger along the edge of the fresh blade and watch in fascination as blood starts to drip and land on the carpet. Pressing the blade against my inner arm I add enough pressure that the tip cuts into my skin. A euphoric feeling floods my body as the blade cuts deeper and the emotional pain is no longer there. The anger of the music speaks to me, consumes me… I hate my life, I hate the way I look, I can’t do anything right, no wonder no one wants me, I no longer want to feel…. I press down on the blade a little bit harder. Looking towards the ceiling, I plead once again with God. “Please let me die. Why won’t you listen to me? I am begging you to end my misery. I have nothing to live for!” My grip on the blade slips and I realize it’s from the blood covering the handle. So much blood… I feel woozy as I look at the open wound on my arm. I am unable to see how bad it really is because of the blood that continues to weep from the wound. The rivulets of blood painting a trail along my arm, bears a striking resemblance to tears… it’s my soul weeping for me. With each beat of my heart I can feel my soul fading.
 What have I done? I’ve never cut this deep before. Stumbling to the bathroom, I push my way through the darkness that is starting to cloud my vision. I can’t pass out… I can’t pass out. I now have a new focus and it’s to slow down the bleeding. I lean on the bathroom counter for support, resting my bloodied hands on the surface. Looking into the mirror I am terrified at the person staring back at me. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m lost in the maze of life and have yet to find the exit. It seems at every turn there’s a dead end, and with each wall I meet my sense of hope diminishes. My blood covered hands make it almost impossible to get a grip on the knob to the linen closet but through the use of both hands I manage to open the door and grab a towel from the shelf. I slide my back down the bathroom wall and after haphazardly wrapping the towel around my arm; I lay on the mat that lies beside the counter and close my eyes.
TEASERS:

 

Title: Unbound by His Love 2
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre: Contemporary/Suspense Romance
$2.99

 

BLURB:
****For Mature Audiences 18+***
A decision was made
Michelle chose the one
That would make her as happy as can be
And her heart they had won
Michelle knows relationships aren’t easy
Challenges there will be
But what they’ll endure
Makes Michelle want to flee
The love of her life
Has been threatened, you see
So now once again a decision must be made
A difficult one indeed.
There will be jealousy and threats
A surprise at the end
Someone making the ultimate sacrifice for love
And a heart that might never mend.
EXCERPT:
I start to turn back to the front of the lecture hall to listen to the professor when a paper missile comes flying at my head. It bounces off my face and lands on my notebook. Opening it up I recognize Michelle’s writing right away.
Kings of Leon – Sex is on Fire
Now I’m adjusting myself. How am I supposed to focus after a note like that? Brody is snickering beside me. It’s quite obvious he must have read the note over my shoulder. I lean my head on the back of the seat, take deep cleansing breaths and think about naked, wrinkly old ladies. I shudder at the thought but it worked. I’m now back in the zone… the learning mode. Although I would like to be in another zone…like Michelle’s erogenous zone…between her legs…sinking into her hot, wet core…Oh crap…naked wrinkly old ladies…naked wrinkly old ladies.
I turn the piece of paper over and write…
Baby I’ll treat you like my homework – I’ll slam you on the table and do you all night long.
I bunch the note up once again and toss it over Michelle’s shoulder. Jenni reaches down to pick it up and as she starts opening the paper up Michelle grabs it out of her hand and shakes her head playfully. She opens the paper and after reading what I wrote she tosses her head back and silently laughs, her shoulders shaking. She peeks at me over her shoulder and winks.
And back to my mantra I go… naked wrinkly old ladies…naked wrinkly old ladies.
TEASERS:

 

 


Title: Unbound by His Love 3
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre: Contemporary/Suspense Romance
$2.99
BLURB:
*** For mature audiences 18+***
Sacrifice of a love affair…
Hearts broken
Questions unanswered
Pasts intertwined
And blackmail spoken
Michelle’s number one priority was keeping Jax safe but she soon discovers that perhaps it was a tragic mistake.
Why isn’t he looking for me?
Has he forgotten me already?
I’m drowning in a sea of darkness
Please save me from this misery.
Since the first moment he laid eyes on Michelle, Jax knew she was “the one”, but her constant need to run from their relationship has him wondering if she cares about him at all.
Why did she leave me?
She took a part of me that day
Things just aren’t adding up
I just can’t stay away.
EXCERPT:
Michelle turns her back towards me and drops her towel to the floor. I lick my lips as I take in every delicious curve of her body. She peeks over her shoulder and crooks her finger in a “come and get it” kind of way. Of course, it was a very hard decision to make… NOT… and I follow her like a lost puppy dog, or maybe it was a hungry dog… but before I follow her, I grab the bowl of whipped cream.
I set the bowl of whipped cream on the bed, and Michelle’s eyebrows lift up in amusement, her eyes unable to hide the desire burning in them. Pointing at the bowl she says, “Are you hungry?”
“Uh-huh. I want my dessert.” I cup the back of her neck and I slant my mouth over hers, luxuriating in the softness of her lips moving against mine. Before I pull away, I gently bite her lip. My hand cups her breast and my thumb caresses her already turgid nipple. Leaning down, I take her nipple in my mouth and using my tongue I circle it, my cock growing even harder when I hear her moan. I gently ease her back on the bed, and grabbing a spoonful of whipped cream, I cover her nipples with it. I lap the sugary cream off her nipples, and follow the white dessert laden trail to the landing strip that so adequately points me in the direction of where I must go. Picking up the spoon, I paint her hot core with more dessert topping. Running my tongue along the folds of her pussy, I swirl the tip of my tongue around her clit.
“Oh god, Jax that feels so good. Is dessert to your liking?” She speaks to me in a husky voice.
“Oh yeah, baby. You taste so good.” I place Michelle’s legs over my shoulder and continue to lap at her hot center, absorbing the sounds of her quickening breath and groans of pleasure. My cock is as hard as granite and pushing against the fabric binding it.
“Jaxon!” Michelle screams my name as an orgasm rips through her body.
I’m shaking with pent up sexual energy. I have to be buried in her right now. I reach my hand out to help Michelle up from the bed. She complies, but her eyebrows are scrunched with confusion. I turn her around so she’s bent over with her hands resting on the bed. My lips brush along her spine.
“Is this okay?” I wait for her to grant me permission. This is my favorite position, and at one time hers as well, but I never want to do anything that would make her feel uncomfortable or scared.
“Yes.” Her voice is trembling but I don’t think its fear, but rather desire.
“Are you sure?” I ask again.
“Jax if you don’t fuck me right now then… I don’t know what I’d do, just do it already.” She almost growls with frustration.
TEASERS:

 

 

 

 

ANTHOLOGIES
Title: This Beautiful Escape Vol.One
$2.99
BLURB:
18+ Mature Audience
Open this book each day for an inspirational message written by some of your favourite authors.
This Anthology is special because each author that contributed has shared a piece of their heart with each and every reader.
This book is about spreading love and hope through the written word.
All proceeds will be donated to Ataxia Canada.
TEASER:
Title: This Beautiful Escape Vol. Two
$2.99

 

 
BLURB:
18+ Mature Audience
Open this book each day for an inspirational message written by some of your favourite authors.
This Anthology is special because each author that contributed has shared a piece of their heart with each and every reader.
This book is about spreading love and hope through the written word.
All proceeds will be donated to Ataxia Canada.
TEASER:

 

Title: The Phoenix
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre: Poetry/Story Book
$0.99

 

BLURB:
Happy
Birthday, David!
Here
is a story.
A
story for you.
Happy
Birthday, my friend.
All
that I wrote is true.
All
proceeds are donated to Ataxia Canada.
 
 Title: Solace In Silence
Author: Melissa Ann
Genre:
Poetry

$0.99
 





BLURB:


 

Sometimes in our darkest moments,
When we can’t tell the lies from what’s true,
When we don’t have the strength to go on,
The love of a friend helps us get through.
Solace in Silence,
Is my personal fight,
Through poetry,
From darkness to light.
EXCERPT:
One Day
Give me your hand,
I’ll help lift you up.
Let me hold you near,
And you can tell me what’s up.
You’ve been hurt in the past,
You have been broken down.
Instead of hating who did this,
You blame yourself, I can see it in your frown.
You hold the world on your shoulders,
Sometimes you wish you didn’t feel so much,
But this is the gift you’ve been given,
And you must accept it as such.
You fight the demons,
Every single day.
Most days you win,
But some days you’re too tired to slay.
If you look
Deep within your soul,
You’ll see a light,
Do you see the dim glow?
Just have faith,
In who you are.
And one day,
That light will grow.
So look at how far you have come,
Not how far you need to go.
As long as you keep fighting,
One day you won’t feel as low.
TEASERS:

 


 
AUTHOR BIO:

 

Melissa lives in the Great White North in her spacious igloo with her two daughters, one of which is a mermaid, the other a unicorn. When she is not writing, she is riding her moose and wrestling with her polar bear. Due to the demand of her books, she was forced to train her hamsters to guard her home, as she typed out what the crazy voices in her head demanded.
She’s an avid supporter of World Wildlife Fund and makes an effort to involve herself as well as her family in fundraising campaigns for various charities. Melissa has an Employment Counsellor Diploma from Fleming College, but she prefers writing stories over resumes.
Presently she has nine books published in a variety of genres, which include Poetry, and Historical and Contemporary Romance.
Her Work in Progress is an Urban Fantasy titled, Mirrored Souls will be published soon.

 

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

 

 

 

David S. Scott Spotlight Tour (Rated R)

David S. Scott

Spotlight

The Phoenix Series
Genre: Erotica
Deep In You
By David S. Scott
$1.99 or free with KU
Blurb:
My name is Alexander Phoenix. You’ve probably heard of me, most people have. I’ve won numerous awards and medals all over the world, including the last two Olympics Games. Outside gymnastics, I’m untamable. Many have tried, none have succeeded. They’ve called me a playboy, a philanderer…
 
Until a chance meeting in a bar with her almost proves to be a disaster for both of us. She’s hot, fascinating and, despite the fact that she poses a risk to me because she’s a tabloid reporter, I can’t help but feel drawn to her. 
 
What are her secrets? Who wants to hurt her? 
 
I’ve never shied away from challenges. Why should I start now?
©David S Scott 2016
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°• 
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•
¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•Excerpt from Deep in You♡¸¸.•*´)¸.•*´)
By David S. Scott
$1.99
Power.
Strength.
Control.
These were the attributes I valued, lived by. They had become my mantra. 
 
Power. Watching the gymnasts as a child had fascinated me, and my parents had been quick to capitalize on this and enroll me in classes. It got me out from underfoot, and I loved the feeling of power and strength that coursed through my body. I learned to contort myself into impossible positions and hold them until the exertion almost proved too much… and then push myself even further. 
 
Strength. Gymnastics had taught me much about myself. I craved a good challenge; the thrill of winning seduced me. I was damned good at it, too. Over the course of my career, I’d won five gold medals and four silver in the last two Olympic Games, as well as countless other awards in other forums. Much more civilized than contact sports, gymnastics tested both my mind and body. On an apparatus, there was only me. Not my competitors. Not my coach. My greatest opponent was always, and would always be, myself. 
 
Control. Power and strength are great, but without control you run into trouble. I employ control in every aspect of my life. Exercise, my free time, and sex. Especially sex.
©David S Scott 2016
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•Excerpt from Deep in You♡¸¸.•*´)¸.•*´)
By David S. Scott
$1.99
I placed her glass on the table and took her hand, tugging her hard into me and kissing her. Her hand snaked around my neck while both of mine dropped down onto her ass. I kneaded her round curves, my tongue plunging insistently into her mouth. My body came alive. Tingles raced all over my skin. My cock throbbed for her. She knew it, too. She grinned against my mouth and hummed appreciatively. Her other hand reached between us and found my erection, stroking me through my clothes. Shit. We weren’t going to make it upstairs; I needed her now. Right now. I felt reckless and lightheaded, and it was making me behave in a way that wasn’t normal for me. I had somehow allowed her to take control and I couldn’t have that. My house, my life, my rules. Making a snap decision, I changed direction and almost carried her toward the guest room. Without breaking our kiss, I unbuttoned my shirt and removed my tie. Shrugging them off, I wrenched myself away long enough to pull her shirt over her head, then pulled her back against me. My tongue pressed into her mouth, stroking, rubbing, exploring.
©David S Scott 2016
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆ 
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆

 

¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•Excerpt from Deep in You♡¸¸.•*´)¸.•*´)
By David S. Scott
$1.99

I placed her glass on the table and took her hand, tugging her hard into me and kissing her. Her hand snaked around my neck while both of mine dropped down onto her ass. I kneaded her round curves, my tongue plunging insistently into her mouth. My body came alive. Tingles raced all over my skin. My cock throbbed for her. She knew it, too. She grinned against my mouth and hummed appreciatively. Her other hand reached between us and found my erection, stroking me through my clothes. Shit. We weren’t going to make it upstairs; I needed her now. Right now. I felt reckless and lightheaded, and it was making me behave in a way that wasn’t normal for me. I had somehow allowed her to take control and I couldn’t have that. My house, my life, my rules. Making a snap decision, I changed direction and almost carried her toward the guest room. Without breaking our kiss, I unbuttoned my shirt and removed my tie. Shrugging them off, I wrenched myself away long enough to pull her shirt over her head, then pulled her back against me. My tongue pressed into her mouth, stroking, rubbing, exploring.

©David S Scott 2016
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆

 

¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•Excerpt from Deep in You♡¸¸.•*´)¸.•*´)
By David S. Scott
$1.99
 

Lily moaned, deep and throaty. “I need you, Xander. Now, please.”


I lined myself up and thrust into her. We both gasped. I had been right; she was incredibly tight, her pussy squeezing me. I paused, buried balls deep inside her. “Did I hurt you?”



She scratched at my back like a tiger while she dug her heels into my ass, encouraging me to move. “I’m fine. Please, Xander…”



I began to move, slow and deliberate at first, quickly gaining speed as we lost ourselves in each other. Lily screamed, her nails raking my back. I moved my forearms to press into her shoulders, allowing me to thrust even deeper, plunge myself even harder, faster. I pivoted my hips to be sure my cock hit her g-spot. 



“Oh… God, yes, Xander. Fuck! Just like that,” she moaned. “Like that. Don’t ever stop.”



There it was. “Don’t stop.” Those words had me fighting for my self-control. No way was I stopping until she was finished, no matter how crazy she made me, how much I needed to come. I put my mouth to her ear. “You feel so tight. So perfect. I can’t get enough,” I growled. “I could fuck you again and again, all night long. That sweet cunt is heaven for my cock.”



“I’m so close.”



“Let go, baby. Come for me.” I bit down on her lower lip and thrust myself deep into her as I felt the first tremor wrack her body, her tight pussy squeezing me in rhythmic bursts. 



“Yes, oh God, Xander. Oh God, I’m coming.”



I pumped into her twice more, then pushed deep as I could and stilled. My whole body tingled in the split second before my orgasm ripped through me. We rode out our climaxes together, my feathered kisses soft on her lips. 



“Xander?”



“Mmm.”



“That was…”



I withdrew myself from her depths and rolled to the side. I pulled off the condom, then gathered her in my arms and kissed her just under her ear. “I know, Lily. I know.” 

©David S Scott 2016

☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°• 
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•

 

 

Book Two of The Phoenix Series
Deeper In You
Genre: Erotic Romance
By David S. Scott
$2.99 or free with KU
Blurb:
I’ve lost everything …
 
And I mean everything. Once a household name, now just a broken shell. Lily has left me and taken my entire future with her. I just want to sleep and never wake up. Forget love, forget passion. All of it. I’m done. 
 
My Name is Alexander Phoenix, former Olympic gymnast. I was once known as the X-Wing, as the man who flies. Make that flew… 
 
Can I salvage my future and reclaim my place as the man I used to be? Or does fate have something else in store? Haunted by ghosts of the past, I must find the strength to move on and find my path. Broken hearts still beat, right?
 
I’ve never shied away from challenges. Why should I start now? 

©David S Scott 2016  
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•Excerpt from Deeper in You♡¸¸.•*´)¸.•*´)
By David S. Scott
$2.99

“You’re so tense, Xander. So tightly wound.” Before I knew what was happening, her hand was on the back of my neck. She rubbed and massaged the base of my neck and the back of my head. I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table and my face in my hands. Her fingers were tantalizingly cool, and I moaned in spite of myself. I was tense, and her hand on me felt so good. Too good. Her touch meant too much, and I found it harder and harder to remind myself that we could never be more than friends. This wouldn’t do.
 
“You don’t have to do that,” I murmured. She needed to stop. I liked it far too much. My cock had instantly hardened in response to her touch. I was so turned on, yet knew it was wrong. I considered escaping to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and get a grip, but I knew if I stood, or even leaned back, she’d see my obvious erection. I was held captive here at the table. No escape from her touch.
 
“I like doing it, though. You seem to be enjoying it, too.”
 
“What?” I glanced at her, but her expression seemed innocent enough. Almost playful.

“You’re moaning, silly.”
 
“You have magic hands.” Did she ever. She occasionally scratched at my scalp with her nails. It was so erotic, so sensual. I wanted her to continue forever, while needing her to stop. My cock strained against my pants, so I didn’t dare move. I wished she’d massage that.
©David S Scott 2016

☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆

 

 

Igniting Passions
By David S. Scott
Genre: Poetry and Short Stories
$0.99
Blurb:
Passion…It’s what drives us. Connects us. Our passions make us who we are, define who
and what we love.

This is a collection of poetry and prose designed to speak to all the different
types of passion within us.

Let the words found on these pages wash over you. Allow them to move your
spirit and speak to your soul.

Open your hearts and minds for Igniting Passions.


.•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•.
Amazon Universal Book Link
.•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•..•°*°•.
 
Igniting Passions
By David S. Scott
Genre: Poetry and Short Stories
$0.99
 
¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•Poem from Igniting Passions♡¸¸.•*´)¸.•*´)
By David S. Scott
$0.99

~*~Daydreamer~*~
 
The taste of your lips intoxicates my soul, 
Your mouth is as delicious as the finest of wine. 
Our tongues dance an erotic tango; vying for control. 
Dreams of more to come if I could make you mine.
 
I’d like to peel all your clothes from you, 
Allow my eyes to feast on your beautiful form … 
If you could read my dark desires, it’s true, 
I bet you’d run, or would you give in to the storm?
 
Wish I could feel you tremble at my touch, 
Your legs would shake, your toes curled tight. 
Nails dug into my flesh, sensations too much, 
Climaxes reached, screams silenced by gentle bite.
 
But instead, only your lips shall I kiss, 
And dream of a day it shall be like this.
©David S Scott 2016
 
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆

 

 

 

 

Santa’s Son
By David S. Scott
Genre: Erotic Novella
$0.99
Blurb:
What do you think of when you picture elves? Could they be real? What about other fantasy beings? What about… Santa Claus?
 
Shawn is accustomed to living life the way he wants to. He has no responsibilities, no one to answer to. He comes and goes as he pleases, traveling the world, looking for fulfillment. 
 
But all that is about to change…
 
Santa’s sick and getting old. This year, he’ll be replaced by his son. Will you be on the naughty list?
©David S Scott 2016
 
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•Excerpt from Santa’s Son♡¸¸.•*´)¸.•*´)
By David S. Scott
$0.99
Passions have always ruled my family. 
 
Always. My father’s name is Pelznickel, but he has been called many things throughout the millennia. Saint Nicholas. Kris Kringle. Santa Claus. 
 
Yes. That Santa Claus. The man who’s brought joy to the children of the world for thousands of years. People have thought him a child’s story, a myth.
 
I spared a glance over my shoulder to ensure the redhead was gone and I was alone. Satisfied, I rubbed my right index finger along the side of my nose. A feeling of pins and needles covered me, as if my entire body had lost circulation. In a way, it had. The warm sandy beach I’d been walking on blurred and swirled in my vision, quickly being replaced by my bedroom.
 
The first few times I’d ever teleported, I’d been convinced I’d stayed still and the world had moved around me. Now I knew better. 
 
Frantic knocking greeted my arrival.
 
“What is it?” I called.
 
“Master Schonesgeschenk, your father is looking for you.”
 
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I strode to the door. The fat little gnome waiting for me on the other side was dressed in thick green robes with white trim. His long white beard nearly reached his waist.
 
“Astlin, how many times must I ask you to call me Shawn? It’s just Shawn, I swear.”
©David S Scott 2016

☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆
☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆.•°*°•.☆

 

 

 

David S. Scott’s Bio
David S. Scott is a new author of erotica and erotic romance novels. After finishing his debut novels, Deep In You and its sequel Deeper In You, he is moving on to several other projects, including an erotic paranormal tentatively titled Obsidian Angel. He is in his mid-thirties and happily married, and has a bit of a wicked sense of humor. When not writing, David can be found reading a variety of genres or playing “nerd games” like Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. David loves interacting with people and meeting new friends, so please be sure to follow him on his author page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDavidScott
Public Signings:
 
Tampa Indie Author Book Convention
Sunday, July 16th, 2017
CHIC Venue
1339 E. Fletcher Ave
Tampa, FL 33612
 
Reader & Writer Tampa 2017
Saturday, August 19, 2017
12p-4p
Double Tree by Hilton Hotel Tampa Airport – Westshore
4500 West Cypress Street
Tampa, Florida 33607
 
Indie Bookfest 2017
September 28th to Oct 1st, 2017
The Westin Lake Mary, Orlando North
2974 International Parkway,
Lake Mary, Florida 32746
 
To pre-order a signed book for any of the above signings please click the link below. 

Letter from Rohana Shaheen in Visnagar, India, to Mayuri Falodiya in London

08 August 1800

Mayuri Falodiya, Proprietress
Masala Rajah Gentleman’s Retreat
London, England

Miss Rohana Shaheen Visnagar, India

My dearest friend, Mayuri,

It has been so many years since I have seen your face, heard the soft lilt of your voice, the grace of your fingers on the sarangi. I can hardly remember the dances of our youth, the music we once made together, the joy and laughter of our nights with Ramraja, days filled with young women’s silly dreams of love and devotion. It is my fondest hope for you, who once I called my sister, that you found such affection with a lover after your departure from India.

After my disgrace before the Chhatrapati and the tawaifs, I do not forget you were the one woman who came to my defense. You paid dearly for your insistence that the actions of my lover were not my own, that as Ramraja himself offered me up to the Vikanta as a gift, I deserved the protection of the emperor, not his contempt. For your defense of me, you were scarred beyond reckoning and banished with only your jewels to keep you, and I have grieved for the loss of your beauty and your livelihood since that fateful day.

I write at long last with news of my life since your departure for England and to ask the greatest service any woman can ask another. I will not dissemble, my friend, as you must know my years have not been easy, nor the life of comfort we were promised as the most favored tawaifs of the Maratha princes. Indeed, raising two children with no husband or protector has been a daily challenge for more than a decade. Were it not for the Vikanta’s generosity upon his leave-taking, we might have starved, for such is the charity shown by the royal family.

But such children! Both lovely girls: Kali, a graceful, thoughtful young lady who turns thirteen today, showing signs she will grow into an incomparable woman; and Kamala, who is yet a silly miss of almost eleven, and prefers stories of romance to her lessons. Both have a distinct flair for languages—English, French, Hindi, Sanskrit, and Farsi—and both show talent for the arts, Kamala with a special aptitude for the yaal harp, Kali an extraordinary dancer. Both are well-mannered and well-trained to the caste; I have seen to that myself.

This, however, is why I must ask a more important indulgence than I have ever asked anyone, as you will soon be the only hope for my daughters.

My health is failing, death slowly stalking me, as it often does, but I do not have so much time left as young girls dream. Without me, they will be alone in the world with no one to speak for them, to keep them safe, to be the mother they will yet need, both still so young. I believed, ten years ago, the Vikanta’s orders of protection by his soldiers were a boon, but now I see they only aligned my fate with those who would become my country’s enemies, ignoble men disinclined to provide shelter on the orders of a man an ocean away.

I have begged Emperor Shahu to place my girls under the imperial court’s protection, but you know his temperament better than any. I was fortunate to be granted an audience, but only so he could speak of how poorly I have aged and give vent to his long-standing hatred of my former lover. Of my children, he suggested only that they sell themselves to British soldiers, as that is what he considers I have done.

Our shared friend, Nitara, called me aside as I left the palace to say you have opened a kotha in London to train girls to our way of life. It is my dearest hope you will accept Kali and Kamala to study with you—the most talented tawaif of our generation—and help them find their start in life.

I do not ask out of remembrance of our childhood friendship, but rather offer the last of the fortune I was gifted by the Vikanta, not an inconsiderable sum, holding out only what the girls will require to make their way when they are fully grown. There is no other woman in the world to whom I can entrust my greatest treasures and the monies saved to keep them from harm.

As you are in London, you may yet discover the whereabouts of the Vikanta, Sutcliff Knightley, formerly Viscount Asheton and Lieutenant-General of the 29th Regiment of Bengal Sepoys, who will surely by now be the Earl of Birchbright. I cannot provide his direction, but if he can be located and is still the decent man I remember, he will honor his promise to protect our daughters. I beg of you, my friend, help me save my girls from certain ruin.

Namaste, my sister,

Rohana Shaheen


Find out what happens to Kali and Kamala in

La Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess.

ldn-cover-500x750

Sired by a British peer, born of a paramour to Indian royalty, Kali Matai has been destined from birth to enthrall England’s most powerful noblemen—though she hadn’t counted on becoming their pawn. Finding herself under the control of ruthless men, who will not be moved by her legendary allure, she has no choice but to use her beauty toward their malicious and clandestine ends. When those she holds most dear are placed in peril by backroom political dealings, she enlists some of the most formidable lords in England to thwart her enemies. But even with the help of the prominent gentlemen she has captivated, securing Kali’s freedom, her family, and the man she loves, will require her protectors stop at nothing to fulfill her desires.

Order from your favorite retailer HERE.

To connect with Mariana Gabrielle:
www.MarianaGabrielle.com
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Blog
Goodreads
Amazon Author page

New Historical Fiction from Jude Knight

A Raging Madness

By Jude Knight

17974142_803367473146154_1153367721_n

Ella survived an abusive and philandering husband, in-laws who hate her, and public scorn. But she’s not sure she will survive love. It is too late to guard her heart from the man forced to pretend he has married such a disreputable widow, but at least she will not burden him with feelings he can never return.

Alex understands his supposed wife never wishes to remarry. And if she had chosen to wed, it would not have been to him. He should have wooed her when he was whole, when he could have had her love, not her pity. But it is too late now. She looks at him and sees a broken man. Perhaps she will learn to bear him. 

In their masquerade of a marriage, Ella and Alex soon discover they are more well-matched than they expected. But then the couple’s blossoming trust is ripped apart by a malicious enemy. Two lost souls must together face the demons of their past to save their lives and give their love a future.


Excerpt

17973986_803367466479488_289686069_n17976696_803367609812807_756542353_oAlex poured the coffee, his rinsed shaving mug doing service for Jonno’s portion. Ella sat and sipped while Jonno cleared the table and pushed the serving trolley out of the way. At Alex’s gesture, he sat on the stool again.

“Now, Lady Melville. What trouble are you in, and how can we help?” And should he believe a word she said? She did not act like a lunatic, apart from appearing half-naked in his room in the middle of the night. Apart from the panicked response to her brother-in-law.

That she had taken opium in some form was beyond a doubt. The contracted pupils, the loss of appetite, the shaky hand, the restless shifting in her seat, all spoke to that. Thanks to his injury, Alex had far too close and personal an experience of the symptoms to mistake them. The bruises on her jaw hinted that the drug taking might not have been voluntary, but perhaps her keepers needed to drug her to keep her calm.

Sane or not, Alex hoped he would not need to hand her back to Braxton. Her fear might be irrational, but when she had stood at bay, begging for his help, he had been thrown back ten years. Not that she begged him then. But he left camp on a short trip for supplies, and returned to find Ella married and much changed, her fire banked; her joy extinguished. That time, he had ignored her plight, hardened his heart and left her to the fate she had engineered. And had suffered with her as the consequences quenched her vitality and sucked away the last of her childhood. Suffered, and been powerless to help.

“I have been drugged,” Ella said baldly. “Twice a day. For weeks now. They won’t tell me why. If I refuse, they force me.”

“‘They’ being Braxton and his wife?” Alex prompted.

“And Constance’s dresser.”

“Go on.” He was careful to show no disbelief, no surprise.

“I have been kept in my room. They locked the door. They took all my clothes, my shoes. I saw you out the window and so I came. Will you help me, Alex?”

“I can take you to the rector.” Even as he said it he remembered the plump little man greasing at Braxton’s elbow. Ella would find no help there.

“No!” Her rejection was instant and panicked. “He will give me back and they will send me to that place. No, Alex. You do not know what they plan for me.” She was weeping. Alex had seen her calm under cannon fire, dry-eyed at her father’s funeral, efficient and unemotional in the midst of the carnage of a hospital tent after a battle. He had never seen her weep.

He captured her hands, and kept his voice low and soothing. “I do not, Ella. Tell me.”



About the author

10726384_438048036344768_1967130616_nJude Knight’s writing goal is to transport readers to another time, another place, where they can enjoy adventure and romance, thrill to trials and challenges, uncover secrets and solve mysteries, delight in a happy ending, and return from their virtual holiday refreshed and ready for anything.

She writes historical novels, novellas, and short stories, mostly set in the early 19th Century. She writes strong determined heroines, heroes who can appreciate a clever capable woman, villains you’ll love to loathe, and all with a leavening of humour.



Save

Save

Historical Fiction Book Tour: The Yankee Years

The Yankee Years Books 1-3

By Dianne Ascroft

da-cover

After the Allied troops arrived in County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland during the Second World War, life in the quiet, rural county would never be the same again.

The Shadow Ally

June 1941: When Ruth Corey finds a letter her journalist beau, Harry Coalter, has written, revealing details of the secret construction of an American flying-boat base, she fears it could destroy America’s neutrality and land him in serious trouble. The letter must not be posted. She enlists the help of attractive Italian-American civilian contractor Frank Long to help her stop Harry. Can Ruth safeguard this military secret and protect her beau?

Acts of Sabotage

December 1941: After the attack on Pearl Harbour, the new American flying-boat base must be ready when the first US troops arrive on Northern Ireland’s shores. But, despite Frank’s best efforts, religious conflict within the workforce and thefts on the construction site threaten to scupper the project. Frank confides his worries to Ruth and the pair devise a plan to catch the thieves. Can they stop these acts of sabotage and then what does the future hold for them?

Keeping Her Pledge

June 1942: Pearl Grainger’s life is much more exciting since the Allied troops arrived but she is unprepared for the harsh reality of war, and her RCAF boyfriend is determined to protect her from it. Can Pearl keep her pledge to do her bit for the war effort without losing the man she loves?


Links for Purchase
Amazon US
Amazon UK


About the author

da-bio-picDianne Ascroft writes historical and contemporary fiction, often with an Irish connection. Her series The Yankee Years is a collection of Short Reads and novels set in World War II Northern Ireland. After the Allied troops arrived in this outlying part of Great Britain, life there would never be the same again. The series brings those heady, fleeting years to life again, in thrilling and romantic tales of the era.Her other writing includes a ghost tale inspired by the famous Coonian ghost, An Unbidden Visitor; a short story collection, Dancing Shadows, Tramping Hooves, and an historical novel, Hitler and Mars Bars.


Save

Save

Historical Fiction Book Tour: Sedahlia

SEDAHLIA

By

Cynthia D Toliver

After fleeing post-Civil War Georgia, John Masters, Sr., his wife Virginia Masters, and their rebellious servant Jessie Lindsey have built new lives in Texas ranch country.  Now their offspring, Johnny Masters and Rachel Lindsey, are in love.  On the isolated, sprawling Sedahlia ranch, their youthful dalliances are largely overlooked until Rachel becomes pregnant, forcing Rachel to leave Texas for a freedman’s school in Georgia.

From the insulated Sedahlia ranch to the Jim Crow south, the rails both separate and unite – parting lovers, reuniting family, pushing out the old, bringing in the new.  It is in these settings that the Masters and Lindseys live and love, and their personal needs and mores clash with society.  The repercussions rumble through this family and the surrounding community, tearing them asunder and bringing them together as only love and tragedy will.



Links for Purchase 


About the author

Cynthia D. Toliver is a 1980 graduate of Rice University and a native Texan. She has enjoyed a varied career as an engineer, environmental consultant, educator and author. Sedahlia is her second novel and third book. She has two previously published works, Crown’s Jewel, a historical novel and Come See a Man, an inspirational book. She also hosts a Christian blog, Back to Eden at cynthiatoliver.blogspot.com.
Follow Ms. Toliver at http://www.cynthiatoliver.net.

Inspiration

My inspirations come from multiple sources. Sometimes it is a word or title. Other times it may be a thought, observation or dream. From that seed, I will develop my characters and write an outline. The seed for Sedahlia was a dream about disparate lovers. Their story sprouted and grew to the family saga it is today.
I love the creative process, from beginning to end. My books are very much character driven. As a writer, I become invested in the characters and their stories. If I’ve crafted them well, my readers will do the same.
Other Links
Author website www.cynthiatoliver.net
Christian blog, Back to Eden http://cynthiatoliver.blogspot.com/
twitter @ctoliver58

Save

Save

New Title Tuesday! Dr. Gloria G. Brame – Different Loving Too

On New Title Tuesday, you will find books that have been out for less than three months or will be released within two weeks in all different genres, with all sorts of authors. If you would like to be featured on NTT, use the contact form to let me know.


Different Loving Too, Dr. Gloria G. Brame
Genre: Sexuality, BDSM, LGBT (Non-fiction)
Release Date: January 2016

dl2smallDifferent Loving has really grown up with its audience. The original volume, cataloging the interests and practices of people within the BDSM scene, was an elegant and vital introduction. But as I learn and grow I find that what is most interesting in kink is not the trappings, but the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual aspects that lead people to kink in the first place.  Different Loving Too focuses on all those things. It references peer-reviewed science, and interviews practitioners on their community, on their ethics, and on their needs. Different Loving Too brings Dr. Brame’s work full-circle, from raw sensation to the subtle beauty of a knowing glance.

—  Joy S. Grape, Moderator, Sex and Gender Lab (FaceBook)

If you think all people who practice BDSM are the same, think again. Different Loving Too illuminates the wide range of motivations, meanings, and practices of kinksters, and offers a fascinating look behind the dungeon (and bedroom) door. No matter how much experience you do or don’t have in the scene, you’re sure to learn something new.

— Rachel Kramer Bussel, Editor, Dirty Dates: Erotic Fantasies for Couples

To Buy: Amazon


Who first encouraged you to write, and how?
I’ve been a bit of a graphomaniac since I was a kid, always scribbling poems and thoughts and revelations into notebooks, always treating life like I was the fly on the wall observing how people behaved.  I knew by age ten that I wanted to be some kind of a writer, thanks to my fourth grade teacher making me write her letters all summer.  The most meaningful source of support for me came from public school teachers and then college professors who encouraged me to keep writing. They made me believe I had talent.

What inspired you to write this book?
This book was a project of the heart.  I always wanted to follow up the original Different Loving, but things changed so quickly over time, that I didn’t know where to begin.  How do you even describe the changes in perceptions that the Internet has brought?   But I finally decided I had to do this before I got too old (I’m 60 now), and somehow, I did find a way to encompass the literal revolution in BDSM/fetish sex.  I focused on the people who lived it, and let their stories tell the real story of how BDSM has changed and, more importantly, how they have maintained healthy, loving relationships despite what all the critics of this lifestyle always claimed.

What do you think is the most important quality to cultivate to be a successful writer?
Self-discipline in the face of self-hatred, maybe.  Writers can be their own worst enemies, dredging up every anxiety and insecurity in the process of writing, and treating their book like a dysfunctional stepchild.  I’ve known writers who get hives or puke when they write, others who can’t do it without alcohol.  It took me decades to be able, finally, to drown out the insecurities by sticking to a mindless routine of writing every day at the same time.  Treating it like a job leaves less room for self-pity, IMX 🙂


About the Author
DrBrame-38Gloria G. Brame, Ph.D., sexologist, award-winning sex expert, and best-selling author of 8 ground-breaking books about sex, including Different Loving and The Truth About Sex.

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Amazon  |  Goodreads

New Title Tuesday! A.E. Snow – Meadow Perkins, Trusty Sidekick

On New Title Tuesday, you will find books that have been out for less than three months or will be released within two weeks in all different genres, with all sorts of authors. If you would like to be featured on NTT, use the contact form to let me know.


Meadow Perkins, Trusty Sidekick, A.E. Snow
Genre: YA Contemporary, YA Romance
Release Date: December 9, 2015

Meadow-Perkins,-Trusty-Sidekick_500x750 (1)Meadow has always been someone’s sidekick. It stinks, but it has always kept her safe. On the last day of school, Emilia, her so-called best friend, deals her a blow in the form of public humiliation and her spot in a prestigious art school is compromised. Meadow is knocked out of her sleepy existence and realizes she needs to make some big changes, starting with Emilia.

When Isla moves in across the street, she inspires Meadow to take charge of her own life and her own heart. Her heart just won’t shut up about the brooding Alejandro, or about Jack, who is tall and funny and totally gets her.

Being caught between two boys isn’t all bad, but after Meadow makes a shocking discovery, she realizes that she must stand on her own two feet and fix the mess she’s made. Will her new friendship survive and can Meadow win back the boy she like likes?

To Buy: Amazon


Who first encouraged you to write, and how?
I had some great English teachers who were very encouraging. But my mother was the most encouraging. She is still my biggest supporter.

What inspired you to write this book?
About five years ago, I had this idea for a book. It’s been so long, I don’t quite remember the initial inspiration. I just loved the characters and I wanted to get to know them more. I had a new baby and I needed a little escape from those difficult infant days. I also knew that plus-sized characters were underrepresented in YA and I wanted to see more of that. In the end, I just wrote what I wanted to read.

What do you think is the most important quality to cultivate to be a successful writer?
Discipline. I don’t write every single day, but I do when I’m working on something. The discipline to keep writing even when it’s the last thing you want to do. That’s why it took me more than two years to write Meadow Perkins, Trusty Sidekick. These days, it’s easier to commit to and finish projects.


About the Author
authorphotoA.E. Snow is a writer, mother, pet wrangler, and lives for books. She lives in a tiny mountain town with her husband, two children, three cats, a dog, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter