Tag Archive | love

A Dragon Desire by Tina Glasneck

Release teaser - 1

Thank you for having me on your blog today, Angela. I’m super excited to be here.

When I started the Dragon series, it was the result of needing something to balance out the darkness around me. It was my response to postpartum depression and grieving. Having a spark of an idea, I threw myself into researching everything I could find out about the Norse gods, and Viking life.

Most of us are aware of Greek and Roman gods, and Marvel has taught us a lot about Thor, Loki and Odin, but once I pulled back the veil, boy was I amazed. The tales were so epic.

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I wanted my characters to be influenced by these deities, but also I wanted to infuse my world building with historical details. The first story I set in 1520, which is the time of the Protestant Reformation, and I wanted paganism and this new religion to interact. The second story then takes us to France in 1799, after the French Revolution and right before the rise of Napoleon. This time period is full of conflict, and so I was able to also include historical figures, referencing them in dialogue.

I have a graduate degree in religion, and love history. So, for that simple reason, I love to bring history to life – be it part of Church History, and referencing how Magic was regarded and punished, to the Haitian Revolt and the names of the prominent leaders behind it all. My goal is for my reader to leave with a nugget of truth.

For the first book, I took a college course through the University of Barcelona on Magic in the Middle Ages.  I wanted to make sure that I had those facts correct to be able to present the conflict in such a way that the reader would understand the overlying threat of being a time-traveling fish out of water.

Release teaser - 2

For the second story, A Dragon’s Desire, I researched colonialism, the Haitian Revolt, the French Revolution in all of its progressions, and the life of Napoleon – this included devouring anything that I could get my hands on regarding France at that time (for example the ceruse paint that they wore contained lead; and their eyebrows were made out of mice skin).

In this world building, I’m excited to see where the story takes us next, but also when. I’m ready to explore more of this grand world, and interact with these characters who’ve taken me from darkness into the light.

 

A Dragon’s Desire: Blurb

When you make plans, the gods laugh. All decisions come with consequences.

A Dragons Desire _ Jaz 4-name

In this second book of the Dragons series, time travel and fantasy weave together in a fantastical romance.

Although Jaz is a dragon, the fact that the paranormal exists hasn’t made life any easier. The Norse gods are a little too active in her life, and her lover, Erich, the necromancer, a Viking and demigod, is acting distant. His going from extremely hot to cold has her second guessing everything, and wondering if his proclamation of love was just simple manipulation, and if their relationship has lost its like new car smell.

When trouble comes, it comes in heaps, and right at Jaz’s feet. This trouble happens to send her back to 1799 to Étretat, France. The political upheaval combined with Napoleon’s forces and the threat of the Reign of Terror leaves her wondering who she can trust — one wrong move and she’ll lose more than her dragon head.

 

A Dragon’s Desire Excerpt:

Relationships are built not only on the love that the couple has for one another but also on their shared experiences. In 1520, while back in time learning about the great Black Knight, I’d also learned a lot about my handsome man. Staring at his profile now, his dark brown hair no longer flowed as it had, but his austere appearance did not mar the attractiveness of his strong features. A neatly trimmed beard rested along a strong jaw and if I told a joke or two, I was sure I could get those gray eyes to turn silver. I loved him, and he kept my heart safe. I’d do whatever it took to keep those seeds of love alive.

His eyes grazed over my body, and in one nanosecond, all the magic I’d been storing up formed into a tight, bright orange ball and then exploded around us.

“What did you do?” Tink asked.

Her question made me stop giving Erich my come-hither stare. Would I be a bad friend if I admitted that I wanted to kick out Tink, his non-blood relation who he called sister on this earthly plane, so that I could explore where his hot gaze might lead?

Tink snapped her fingers before my eyes.

“Jaz,” she screamed. “What did you do?” She backed up until the kitchen table jammed into her side.

It was then I noticed the army of fire ants that paraded down the wall and marched toward her. Climbing on top of each other, they quickly formed a three-dimensional shape resembling a moving wave.

“Make it stop!” she said.

I had no idea how to make fire ants obey me. Hell, I didn’t even know I could conjure them up. Like a madwoman, I gathered pots and pans and began to scoop them up, while saying every Latin word I could think of. “Sic semper tyrannis,” I said, as if the motto of the Virginian flag might help.

Instead the ants continued to pile on top of one another. Tink scampered away, and still they came.

She followed my lead and started to bang together pots and pans to knock them away.

“Say something to stop this,” I said.

Tink waved her hands. Nothing happened. “I can’t. You’re magical. Your magic is not like anything I’ve ever handled. You have to learn how to hone in and control it.”

Brutum fulme” I then shouted, as if calling forth senseless lightning would cause a bolt to come through and fry the pesky things. Still nothing happened.

“I’m so not qualified for this,” I screamed. Frustration caused a tingling in my fingers, which rose up my arms like I’d touched a hotplate.

“Jaz,” Erich interjected, “concentrate.”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and focused on the dragon resting just below my skin. I felt her stir, awaken. Fire grew in my belly. My lips puckered and uttered the words the beast had whispered to me, “Carpe noctem.” Seize the night!

The ants stopped mid-step, frozen.

Hearing the beast, I repeated what it ordered: “Transit umbra, lux permanet.” Shadow passes, light remains. The fire ants disintegrated, leaving not even a speck of dust behind.

Tink hurried to her cauldron, which was boiling over, vomiting a cloud of what looked like pixie dust on to the counter and removed her black choker with Chakra stones. “I’ve read of many wearing talismans until they are able to get control of their powers. This will protect you. Do NOT take it off, do you hear me?”

“Sure, sure,” I nodded my head, but really, I just wanted to push her out of the door. “Thanks, Tink.”

Tink looked first at me and then at Erich.

Instead of moving towards the door, I wished for it to open, and it did.

“I guess that’s my sign to leave,” she said and quickly packed everything into her wicker basket.

“I didn’t know I could do that.”

 

 

Buy link:

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B06XFW7DCG/

 

Tina Glasneck Bio:

Tina Glasneck is a writer of crime fiction and fantasy romance. Her imagination thrives when it comes to hot coffee, great music and laughter. She believes in miracles, the power of positive thinking, and that in each of us a dragon lurks. Learn more about Tina on her website:  http://tglasneck.wixsite.com/tglasneck

 

 

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By Love’s Honor Bound by Patricia Bond

Today we have Patricia Bond joining us!

Take it away Patricia!

*****

For those of you near the shores of Lake Ontario in New York State, please join me at Murphy’s Orchard in Burt, N.Y. where I will be signing copies of my books on Sat., 2/11/17 from 11:00am to 2:30pm.  I’m very excited to be at Murphy’s Orchard, since it is a designated historic site as a waystation from the Underground Railroad. By happy coincidence, my characters in By Love’s Honor Bound happen to be VERY involved with the Underground Railroad.

By the way, Murphy’s has a wonderful tea room where they serve sandwiches, tea and desserts, as well as a gift shop filled with specialty jams and jellies all made with their own fruits, and so much more….

Come on down! I’d love to meet you.

by-loves-honor-bound-2-new-06-25-13

 

Someone is killing Conductors on the Underground Railroad one by one. With a cellar full of runaway slaves, Olivia June Mathieson must decide – is the handsome Fenton Pierce-Smythe savior or traitor?

Both Fenton Pierce-Smythe’s fiancee and grandfather were killed when runaway slaves spooked their horses. Determined no one else will face that pain, he hunts runaways to return them safely to their owners. But can he remain unmoved by their plight? And unaffected by the beautiful woman who risks her life to lead them to freedom?

 

Excerpt:

He was, he admitted grandly, ever so slightly foxed.

Hell, what would you expect after spending the entire evening in a tavern drinking cheap whiskey? As he stepped outside, the cold night air struck him in the face like a loose sail, and he knew he’d have a devil of a headache tomorrow.

And for what? The night had been an abysmal failure. He hadn’t found out one thing about the Underground Railroad here. Nor had he heard anything about any runaways. It had been a total waste of precious time, except perhaps for that blond.

He smiled as he walked unsteadily to his horse, thinking of the girl. She’d been eye-catching, no doubt. The memory of her silken speaking voice washed over him and he found himself thinking of the “O” her mouth had made when she’d poured the coffee on him. The soft pucker just begged to be kissed.

But, that coffee! He grimaced as he ran his hand over his thigh and the front of his trousers. They were dry now, but he was still a tad tender to the touch. Thank God he’d been quick enough to escape most of the hot liquid.

He reached his horse, Thunderbolt. Stupid name for a horse that ran slow as molasses in winter. He’d received the animal for his sixteenth birthday, and had chosen the name with visions of a dashing hero dancing in his head. He’d seen himself riding through storm-tossed nights, rescuing fair damsels in distress, and receiving his loving rewards from them. Of course, he’d been sixteen, and his blood had run as hot and randy as any young man’s.

Now, at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, he’d learned fair damsels seldom needed rescuing. And especially not by a man named Fenton, riding the slowest thunderbolt known to nature.

Damn, he’d never liked his name. Fenton. He snorted, wishing to hell his mother had never read that silly novel. Why couldn’t he be named something dashing like Drake, or historical, like George or Alexander? Or even biblical, like Abraham. At least those were names that engendered respect. But Fenton? For God’s sake!

He swayed slightly while his clumsy fingers worked to untie the reins. With a wry smile, he admitted to himself that having that name taught him a lot about self-defense. He’d had to fight his way through school from the time he wore short pants. Still fumbling with the reins, he wondered if his young temperance singer could give herself to a man named Fenton.

Testing the sensitivity of his thigh again, he found he could touch it almost without pain now, although even in the dark he could see a definite stain from the coffee. He’d had to put up with a lot of ribbing in the tavern. His fellow drinkers had made numerous comments regarding his ability to control himself around beautiful women. It had taken all his control to laugh along with them instead of smashing in a face or two.

After several frustrating minutes, he finally managed to loosen the reins. He didn’t remember leaving them in such a muddle when he’d gotten here. Someone must have been playing a joke, he decided, untangling the leather from around his fingers.

He led the horse to an open area, lifted his foot to the stirrup . . . and missed. Thunderbolt nickered softly and Fenton patted the animal’s neck. “C’mon, Bolt. There’s a good boy.” He felt the first drops of rain start to fall. Great. More rain. Just what he needed. He didn’t care at all for the idea of riding the thirty miles back to Baltimore in a rainstorm.

He raised his foot again, and missed the stirrup a second time. “Dammit, stand still!” he hissed in an annoyed whisper.

Thunderbolt turned his head and snorted into his master’s face.

Fenton was ready to try once more when he heard a vaguely familiar feminine voice raised in entreaty coming from just up the road. She sounded as though she were in trouble. Had some rogue accosted her, trying even now to have his way with her?

Thoughts of rescue and rewards sprang to his mind. He dropped his reins and slogged as fast as he could through the mud left by an earlier rain, plotting his attack on the ruffian as he went.

The sounds were coming from a modest buggy stopped under a bare-branched tree.

Fenton ran around the side and threw himself into the vehicle, landing in a soft lap.

Livvy would have screamed, had the man who leaped into her buggy not knocked all the air from her lungs. As it stood, she was just barely able to hold onto her reins. “What are you doing?” she finally demanded, shoving him off to the side.

“Saving you. Where is he?” Fenton looked around the buggy wildly, his eyes searching the darkness.

“Where is who? There is no one here but the two of us.”

“You sure?” he asked, squinting at her.

“And Rosabelle,” she said, indicating her horse.

“But I heard you. You were begging to be let go.”

“I was saying ‘Let’s go.’ To Rosabelle. We’re stuck.”

“Stuck?” he asked, his face a study in confusion.

“In the mud,” she said with great deliberateness.

“Oh. Well then, let’s have a look,” Fenton said, hopping down from the seat and stumbling only a little as he landed. He walked around the back of the buggy and peered through the darkness at the wheels. “Everything’s fine here.”

He came around the front and studied the closest wheel. She could see him sway as he stood. The odor of cheap whiskey she’d smelled when he landed on her wafted up on the night wind. Finally he looked up at her, grinning.

“You, madam, are stuck in the mud.”

Livvy rolled her eyes heavenward before answering. “And you, sir, are drunk.”

 Buy links:

Love’s Honor Bound: Amazon

Building a Christmas: Amazon

Arms of an Angel:  Amazon

http://www.patricia-bond.com/

About the Author:

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Books, history, hooped skirts and happily ever after.  Those are just a few of local author Patricia Bond’s favorite things that she weaves into stories.  Add in a dashing hero and an intrepid heroine and you’ve pretty much got her recipe for a historical romance.

America’s history is so rich and full, it serves as a natural backdrop for her books, and she tries to take full advantage of it, along with its incredible landscape. Her settings have run from the Great Lakes, to rural Pennsylvania, to Baltimore/Washington and the Chesapeake Bay.

Wife, mother, and grandmother, she loves being retired and living near the Great Lakes where she’s free to indulge her other passions besides writing. An award-winning amateur photographer and member of the local knitting guild, you may find her at the lakeshore, notebook in hand and camera at her side drawing inspiration from her amazing surroundings.