A Summer Bewitchment is now at
Amazon.com here and
at Amazon UK here.
4.5 Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies.
Sequel to The Snow Bride and second part of the Knight and the Witch series.
Showing posts with label Bookstrand Mainstream Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bookstrand Mainstream Romance. Show all posts
Thursday, July 18, 2013
'A Summer Bewitchment' - Now at Amazon
Friday, June 21, 2013
Pre-Order: Favored Dragon's Release by D. Renee Bagby
Now available for 10% off pre-order at Siren-Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/favored-dragons-release
(Hidden by Dragons, Book 1)
Siren-Bookstrand Publishing
[High Fantasy Dragon Romance, MF]
He wants her for his bride to end the dragons' curse but his love for her is ruining his plans.
In the aftermath of a senseless war that claimed many lives, the gods have punished the dragons for causing the conflict. The next generation will not hatch until Prince Shurik finds a human female willing to put aside generations of animosity to become his bride.
Yolette goes to sleep on the side of a mountain, the odd woman out on a couples' camping trip, and awakes in a field outside the home of a dragon. Transported to an unknown world very different from her own, she must depend on Shurik for shelter and guidance.
Shurik doesn't anticipate his growing feelings for Yolette, making the task of proposing that much harder. Danger looms from those who want the punishment ended and from those who want it to continue until the last dragon is gone. Shurik must decide whether he will save his people or his love and pray to the gods his choice is the right one.
Coming 03 July. Now available for pre-order. 10% off until 10 July (CST)!
http://www.bookstrand.com/favored-dragons-release
Excerpt:
“You mentioned food. All this philosophizing is making me hungry.”
“Rather than having me guess, what would you like?”
“Bread.”
Shurik laughed.
“Did I say something funny?”
“You are so enthusiastic.”
She mumbled, “It was good.”
He walked back to the spot where they had entered and reached toward the darkness. Yolette wasn’t sure what he was doing until he pulled out a large platter and a cup. He returned to the water’s edge where he placed the platter and the cup on the ground. In the middle of the platter was a loaf of sliced bread. Around the bread were meats and cheeses and small pots of what looked like jellies.
Shurik gestured to the food.
Yolette wasn’t sure where to start. She grabbed a piece of bread, tore off a chunk, and reached for the nearest small jar. It contained honey. She was almost sure it was honey. A taste test would prove it. She dipped the bread and then popped the piece in her mouth.
She closed her eyes as the honey exploded over her senses in a rush of sweetness, the likes of which she’d never tasted. Slowly she chewed, savoring every single bit of the bread and actually chewing the requisite twenty times—possibly more—before swallowing.
“I think I just tasted heaven,” she whispered.
“This honey is a delicacy. No human has tasted it before.”
“I’m honored then. It’s positively decadent.” She dipped another piece of bread into the honey and ate it, savoring it as she did the first. It was the slowest she’d ever eaten anything.
Shurik said, “The bees of dragon territory are unique, and thus their honey is unique.”
“I’ll say. It literally is liquid gold for the eyes and senses.” She sighed as she licked a bit of the honey off of her fingers. If nirvana had a flavor, it would have been that honey.
It took a bit of doing, but she managed to make herself eat something else besides the honey. Shurik poured a drink for her from his cup. They ate and drank in silence. She indulged one last bite of honey and bread before her stomach declared maximum occupancy had been reached.
Shurik asked, “Full?”
“Very.” She patted her stomach. “You ate more this time.”
“Your appetite is infectious.” He returned the platter to the shadowed area, placed it inside, and then returned. “What do you wish to do this day?”
Yolette stared at Shurik while she contemplated his question. He watched her without saying a word. Her gaze strayed to his wings. “Flying lessons.”
Shurik’s smile dropped.
“Don’t look like that. I’m not going to get used to how you fly if we never go flying.”
“That is true,” he said in a hesitant manner.
“Besides, I was fine last time. You caught me like you said you would.”
“Yes.”
She stood and clapped her hands together. “Flying lessons.”
Shurik sighed. “Flying lessons.”
She walked over and patted his side. “If it makes you feel better, I’m afraid of heights. So, in a way, I’m showing a lot of trust by even suggesting this.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You did not mention such a fear yesterday.”
“I was too upset about not being able to go home to really register that I was up in the air until after we landed.” She shrugged. “I figured mentioning it now might help somehow. I guess. I don’t know.”
He nodded. “You have nothing to fear while flying with me.”
“Good. Now the only issue is keeping hold of you. You may not realize, but you’re slippery.”
He laughed.
“Not in a slimy way. I mean, because your scales are smooth, they are hard to hold.”
“I understand.”
She sighed, happy he hadn’t taken her words the wrong way.
He said, “Perhaps a rope.”
“No.”
“You could use it as a harness.”
“No. It just seems demeaning somehow.”
“I suggested it, therefore I don’t find it demeaning.”
“And how would the rope be attached? Not around your neck, I know. And tying it around one of your spines is useless since it would slip off after a while.”
“True.”
She made a thinking noise, but it was for show only. She had no other alternatives to offer.
Shurik said, “A rope is still a viable option so long as it stays attached, correct?”
“I don’t like it.” She sounded like she was pouting, even to her own ears. “What if—no. Never mind.”
“What?”
“You could carry me. In your hand, I mean. Like when you lift me up to the table or the bed.”
Shurik looked at his hands.
She followed his gaze and then met his eyes when he looked at her. “No?”
“Your idea is sound but not viable for the long term. I cannot always carry you in such a way. I would fear hurting you.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.”
“How can you trust me so completely when we have not known each other long?”
She cocked her head to the side. “You’re nice. I’m usually a pretty good judge of character. I have to trust someone on this new planet. I’ll start with you.”
Shurik blinked at her a few times. He lowered his hand, palm up, and waited.
Coming 03 July. Now available for pre-order. 10% off until 10 July (CST)!
http://www.bookstrand.com/favored-dragons-release
--
D. Reneé Bagby
Building New Realms of Passion...
http://about.me/dreneebagby
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Cutie and the Cowboy Trucker AA Sensual Romance
A #1 Bookstrand Mainstream
African-American
Sensual Love story
Word
count: 51,182
Heat:
Sensual
Price:
$3.50
Story Excerpt
The trio marched to the truck stop and straight into the
heavy aroma left over from fried foods. Kitchen noises pervaded as white
stoneware filled with heaping portions of food slapped against the shiny steel
pickup window. They moved on through the restaurant to a vacant booth near the
plate glass window. Veronica and Sam took one side. Mike had the other side all
to himself.
"I want fries." Sam's face turned up to Veronica.
"Samuel?"
"Please, Mama."
Veronica allowed him hamburgers and fries on occasion. Those
big, pleading eyes zapped her. Today seemed to be one of those days.
"Okay," she said with a smile. "We'll both have fries."
Veronica's head jerked up when Mike grunted, and her eyes
caught his. He was obviously amused about something.
"What's funny?"
"It's been a long time since I had such a telling
conversation. Although my children are no longer teenagers, I have one who's
still a master manipulator."
"A child expressing his hunger brings back
memories?" She pursued the topic because she really wanted to understand
the motive for his laughter.
He chuckled again. "Lots of them. There's not a parent
alive that hasn't buckled even before the onset of such a debate."
"I didn't buckle on anything," she announced, a
bit offended. Veronica looked down at Sam, who looked from her to Mike in
earnest interest.
"You're right. You didn't buckle."
"What does that condescending crack mean?"
"Veronica, honestly. I only meant, as a parent, one
recognizes when and when not to make an issue. That's all." He examined
her in silence. "I didn't intend to offend you."
Veronica intentionally took note of his mannerisms as he
sought to do damage control. Although his cool expression locked in place, she
sensed the immense interest in his bedroom eyes the longer he stared at her. He
was minus his hat and glasses, which permitted her uninhibited inspection. Mike
wore his hair cut close to the scalp. That emphasized his strong brow and the
allure of his eyes, so soft and tawny brown. He had a tiny healed scar on the
end of one nostril. Below that was his peppered mustache, glinting with a touch
of silver and trimmed to perfection above tasty-looking lips.
Her perusal didn't stop there.
His stout neck balanced on wide shoulders that conformed to
a broad chest. Since he was seated, her imagination filled in the gaps of the
rest of his description. She recalled his long legs from her position on the
ground, and his, evidently, excellent physical condition by the trapeze act
he'd performed to get her carry-on. Before her sat a man she guessed to be in
his midforties, who happened to be one outstanding treat for a woman to behold.
Creamy chocolate had nothing on him.
Mickie Sherwood
~~Sweet, spicy romance – a heartbeat away~~
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Mickie Sherwood's BayouBabe99er IR Mainstream Romance
5 Stars Reader Rating at Barnes and Nobles
Louisiana's lushness is the setting for my
mainstream contemporary love story, BayouBabe99er. The story takes place after
the disastrous Gulf oil spill that threatens to eliminate the communities
scattered along the coast. What can a forty-four year-old laid-off banker, and
an oil company liaison, closer to the ages of her daughters than hers, have in
common? Desire! The desire—to right a wrong—and for each other.
BayouBabe99er (2012)
Genre:
Mainstream/IR Romance
Word
Count: 25,980
Price: $2.99
Excerpt:
The
rumbling sound vibrated the wooden dock behind the store. A tri-horn blasted
the quiet and brought Clyde out on the run. He admired the cut of the sleek
white racer with the bold red stripes. Clyde hustled his arthritic body back
inside with a yell.
“Sha, come
see!”
Drake,
who’d changed into casual wear, jumped to the dock just as Sharlene came
rushing outside. She faltered, he supposed, at what met her eyes. But she
acknowledged him with a slow, sad smile. The act caused his heart to go ca-boom.
“Let’s go.”
He ushered
her up the walkway by the hand and onto the deck, making introductions as they
took the center aisle to the cockpit. His companion merely smiled and nodded as
he brought the throttle down to reverse. Drake helped Sharlene into her life
vest as the boat eased away.
Clyde
saluted their departure.
Soon they
cruised the open water, their bodies rocking to the motion as they cut through
the waves. Drake positioned himself at Sharlene’s back. His hands held the rail
on either side of her body as a deterrent to her tumbling from the jerky
gyration. A fine spray misted them as they sailed along.
The
constant swaying bumped Sharlene and Drake’s bodies together continuously.
Passionate thoughts stayed at bay because of the serious nature of the
expedition. They sped into the gray day on a mission of mercy. Drake did what
he did for Sharlene, because he suspected it would do her good to escort her
uncle’s pride and joy back to port. For him? Well, he drew satisfaction knowing
he provided her that small bit of relief.
“There they
are!” Sharlene exclaimed.
Drake saw
the faint black spots dotting the surface of the water, way in the distance. He
also felt the sporadic tremors she attempted to hide. The tight grip she had on
the iron rail was another giveaway. “Relax, Sharlene. We have quite a while to
go.”
Sharlene
looked at him over her shoulder. “Thank you so much, Drake. I can’t explain
it…I mean…”
“You’re
welcome.” He kissed the side of her face exposed to him, continuing in a somber
voice. “I think I understand.”
They rode
in silence as the boat bounced and bumped over the choppy water. The minutes
ticked down to seconds with the flotilla enlarging in size. The BayouBabe
lurched along, pulled by a tow. Trawlers flanked her on all sides.
The captain
of the speedboat slowed to maneuver a wide arc around the group, doing an
observation lap. Sharlene’s posture stiffened. Drake felt her heart racing so
fast the beat competed with the thundering motor. A shaky hand wiped moisture
from her unbelieving eyes.
“Uncle
Moot!” she screamed while scrambling to be free of Drake’s shielding embrace.
He held tight. “He’s alive, Drake!”
“I see
him.”
Moot stood
at the wheel as big as day. Pausing from the strenuous steering job, he
gestured to Sharlene by tipping the brim of his cap. The use of one hand nearly
cost him control of his hobbling craft. The quick recovery brought a smile to
his lips.
Sharlene
escaped Drake’s hold and darted to the narrow foot ledge rimming the boat. The
going was risky for the surface glistened with water. The deck shoes she wore
hardly mattered for she slid a time or two before arriving safely on the
forward platform. Drake closed in on her sporting a not-so-pleased look.
“You’re
going to get yourself killed!”
The bite of
his words stung. Sharlene was just about to retaliate when she recognized that
mournful look in his eyes. Her ire deflated. She refused to blast him after
realizing he only had her best interest at heart.
Besides,
she was elated with the turn of events. Her world revolved from tragedy to
triumph. Her uncle survived a horrific ordeal. Thanks to the stabilizing effect
of the man next to her, Sharlene had reasons to smile again.
Mickie Sherwood
~~Sweet,
spicy romance – a heartbeat away~~
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Mickie Sherwood's BayouBabe99er - IR Sensual Romance
Cougar-Cub romance
Feel the thrilling sensations provoked by Sharlene and Drake's Louisiana swamp ride.
Louisiana's lushness is the setting for my mainstream
contemporary interracial love story, BayouBabe99er. This romance story takes
place after the disastrous Gulf oil spill that threatens to eliminate the
communities scattered along the coast. What can a forty-four year-old laid-off
banker, and an oil company liaison closer to the age of her daughters than
hers, have in common? Desire! The desire—to right a wrong—and for each other.
BayouBabe99er
The
pirogue’s tiny motor pushed them deeper into the marsh bypassing masses of
water lilies hugging the perimeter. So far, their search for oil proved
fruitless. And that was a good thing because hoop nets dotted the outer area.
Those results met with Sharlene’s approval. Drake’s fascination with the swamp
was exhibited in the way his camera whirred at the press of the button.
Sharlene
left a flag at every turn.
“Almost
like Hansel and Gretel.”
He had
recovered, she realized by his teasing tone. “It’s picturesque, Drake. But
don’t let the idyllic setting lure you to carelessness. The denseness of this
swamp can swallow a body whole.” Drake swung and snapped numerous times,
capturing her against the natural backdrop.
They
traveled the narrow ways, sometimes losing sight of the sun through the
overhanging and binding branches. It reappeared lower on the horizon,
indicating the length of time spent on what turned out to be a wild goose
chase. Sharlene decided to pack it in and maneuvered the craft around the next
bend. One last search place came to mind.
“I’m glad
this was a waste of your time,” he said.
“Not a
complete waste. Allowed me to concentrate on something other than my pitiful
problems.” Honesty was her strong suit. Saying something personal like that to
a complete stranger was uncharacteristic.
Sitting
backward on his seat to face her, Drake’s stare held open curiosity. This event
brought to mind the last time he felt so emotionally connected. He faced the
heart-wrenching rawness rather than withdrawing psychologically as he’d always
done in the past.
Drake took
aim with the camera, zooming in for the perfect shot. Sharlene never altered
her expression. What she offered right then was a look into her inner soul.
That was a look the camera didn’t do justice.
A
spirit-connecting shiver rocked him.
Sharlene
devoted all of her energies to keeping her mind on the delicate operation and
off the feelings of infatuation warring inside of her. Her sensitivity
heightened. The stagnant water smell in places absent of sunlight drifted
passed her nose. Feathery wisps of wind touched her skin. Every stimulus around
her sharpened.
The sight
of dark, gooey slickness clinging to Cypress knees put her back in a serious
frame of mind. The shutter snaps ceased when Drake read her current expression.
Swinging forward, he immediately began logging the unfortunate sight. “Damn!”
“What’s
next?” Sharlene asked.
“A fight.”
She brought
them safely through the alternate route, noting the heavy coverage of oil ended
where the passage forked. They were chugging along on the return route when the
three-propeller trolling motor clogged in debris. Sharlene saw an unwelcomed
sight when she looked up ahead. “Oh, no!”
He whipped
her way.
“Water
lilies.”
He looked
away. “Yeah. So?”
The motor
resisted her efforts at clearing the strangling vines from its blades. “We’re
stuck.”
“No, we’re
not.” Drake sounded confident. “We have the pole.”
She
exclaimed with a smile, “The pole!” Wrangling it from under the seat with a
little too much enthusiasm courted disaster. The end hit the under-seat,
Sharlene lost her grip, and the life-saving stick slipped into the murky water.
“No-o-o!” she cried, peering over the side.
“Well,” he
said to reduce her ire, “I can clear a path by hand.”
“Are you
out of your mind?”
“You have a
better idea?”
“Hopefully,
there are other fools out today besides us.”
“Have you
seen anyone else all day?”
He had a point.
“No.”
“Then we
don’t have a choice.”
Sharlene
noticed a defiant look in his black eyes. She gave a stern warning with a hand
on his shoulder. “This place is called Alligator Bayou.” She ordered him to
reconsider. “We wait, Drake. There’s no other choice.”
* * * *
Drake
gulped because a log in the lilies submerged right on cue. “I’m sorry,
Sharlene. To have gotten you in this mess.”
“Like you
twisted my arm.”
“I should
have resisted.” I was too tempted by just being in your company.
“Uncle
Moot’ll find us.”
Looking at
the marshy jungle inspired little hope in him. “How can he?” She had the gall
to laugh a throaty vibration that closed her eyes in enjoyment. She was the
only one basking in the moment. Nevertheless, he soaked up all the charm she
exuded, even in those uncertain moments.
“He knows
these swamps like every line in his face.” When he seemed doubtful, she added,
“Plus the breadcrumbs will help.”
His
skeptical look caused another laugh to puncture the deathly quiet, scattering
the birds from the trees. Drake followed their flight, a smile of his own
slipping across his face. “You do that so easily.”
“What?”
“Laugh.”
“Hmmm.
Sometimes that’s all you have left.”
They lapsed
into silence. Drake fiddled with his camera for lack of anything better to do.
“Can I
see?” Sharlene broke the silence, rocking the boat as she shifted to get
closer.
“Sure.” He
handed her the camera after toggling the dial to slideshow.
“You have a
good eye. The pictures of the swamp are magnificent,” she complimented. Her
thumb continued to hit the back button until one of her popped up. “I hate
taking pictures. But I guess this one’ll do.” She turned the screen to him.
“I’ll say.”
Taking the camera back, he scrolled to another. “Now, this one deserves a
frame.”
She
hesitated when he handed it for her to see. Sharlene made a face. “Ummm.”
“You know
you like it,” he teased. She rewarded him with her fabulous grin. “Told you.”
Buy now! BayouBabe99er
Mickie Sherwood
~~Sweet,
spicy romance – a heartbeat away~~
www.blurbsinbloom.com
Sweet-to-sensual mainstream romance blurbs compiled just for you! Open for
submissions.
www.Twitter.com/MickieSherwood
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
The Snow Bride. Historical Romance. Lindsay Townsend
Excerpt.
Making torches, lighting them, took some little time. Magnus could sense Elfrida's tension and almost see her fears tearing at her like the harpies preyed on their hapless victims in the old tales that he had heard around campfires in Outremer. She stayed within the tower, calling encouragement to Christina and praying aloud, "To cleanse this space," she told him. She did not attempt to move farther than the few steps they had come from the threshold, for which he was grateful.
"Your sister must be sleeping deeply," he said when she fell silent and
despondent after no replies. "It is the time of winter dark and solid slumber."
"Or she is drugged," Elfrida answered.
Once he spotted her gazing at him, a cool, farsighted, assessing stare. Where he
considered pits and traps, she concerned herself with magical dangers. He knew
she felt responsible for his safety, a strange and queer reversal of nature to
him, but one he accepted that he could not shake her from.
All will be better with more light, he told himself, fending off a vague feeling
of being watched.
Baldwin finally brought two spitting torches. Magnus told the youth to keep up
and took a torch from him. "Do you stay here?" he asked Elfrida.
She shook her head—he had not expected otherwise—and he put her between himself
and Baldwin. Leading the way, Magnus began to pick a careful path across the
nails and snares and wooden stakes, walking steadily and lifting his feet high.
All the while, puffing like a small, furious dragon at his back, he could hear
Elfrida and sense her taut, barely reined-in impatience. She fairly bristled
with it. Not far and all will be well, he wanted to say to comfort her, but he
said nothing, for they had reached the stairs, and it might not be true.
Gray, narrow, worn, and unlit, the stairs were also slimy on certain treads.
Spilled oil or melted candle wax? he speculated, calling out softly in the old
tongue and his own dialect, so Baldwin would know, "Grease, here, step over." He
did not lower his torch. Some things were best left as a mystery.
"Christina, you are safe, beloved. Walter is waiting for you, and all is
prepared for your return."
Elfrida was becoming more urgent and desperate in her wishes. He longed to
shield her from this trial but knew it was impossible.
She is a warrior of magic, besides, and a warrior always faces things. She would
never forgive me if I kept her out of this.
Yet it was so ponderous, step after step, climbing in the dark, with the stair
walls and roof feeling to close in around them, pressing down and choking...
Unless that is just me. Since early youth he had loathed shut-in places, which
was why in any siege he had always volunteered for any digging or mining. Now
the disgusting, spineless fears of his boyhood shook down the backs of his legs.
If Christina is dead, will Elfrida blame me? No, she will not..
He trod on an object that cracked and slithered beneath his peg foot. He checked
the cry bubbling in his throat and kicked the unknown thing away, down the
stairs. He heard it flopping into the darkness and vowed to burn the whole tower
with fire once they were done.
If Christina is dead or alive, will Elfrida return to her village? Will she want
to stay there? Ask her, man, and find out!
He was wary of asking and at the same time eager to ask. As much as Elfrida
wanted to see her sister, he wanted to know her mind.
It is my future. Have the stakes ever been so high?
He ran up three more steps and reached the first floor. The staircase continued
higher, but now there was a tiny, cramped passageway, again unlit, and at its
end, a door.
A blue door, he realized, hearing Elfrida's gasp of recognition. He spun about
and gripped her shoulder tightly, in a gesture of warning and support, then let
her go.
He reached out and touched the door with his stump. Elfrida said nothing, did
not try to stop him, but he glanced at her for confirmation.
She nodded, her own hands clenched in tight fists, her face unreadable.
"Baldwin." He handed the lad his torch and set his shoulder to the door, drawing
out his knife—better a knife than a sword in such close quarters.
Surprise was impossible, for if there was a guard, he must have heard their
plodding trail, so Magnus called a final warning.
"Release your prisoners unharmed and you shall not be injured or killed. Yield
now."
He pushed on the stout wood, astonished to find the door unlocked, and entered.
* * * *
The Snow Bride
http://www.bookstrand.com/the-snow-bride
Lindsay Townsend
http://www.lindsaytownsend.net
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