Miriam Newman: 'The King's Daughter'

Blurb: 

Born to a dying queen and an ambitious king, Tarabenthia is heir to the crown of Alcinia.  Yet when the idyll of her childhood ends she will defy her father, tipping the balance in a world poised on the brink of destruction and leaving history to judge whether she is heroine or harlot.

In a time of war, what would you surrender in the name of love?

Excerpt:

There was only one direction I could look and that was down the road where we had just come.  Now someone else was coming straight up the middle so that people scattered like chickens.  A young, unhelmeted Omani trooper was riding down that road on a fine long-legged gray horse, bawling in a voice which did not doubt its own authority.  Though I couldn’t hear the words, I knew what he was saying—troops were coming and he wanted the way cleared NOW.

 I couldn’t clear the road.  I was chained in it and knew my peril.  There was a

curve in that road and by the time they saw me, it would be too late.  My only hope was

that Frado would unfasten the manacles and push me off the road and for a fraction of

a second I actually thought he might do it, if only to avoid trouble with the Army.  He

got free of a woman who had been throwing melons at his head when she ran for her

life and came back beside me, but he was still in a fury and it was only to punch me

in the face.

I heard the gray horse score the cobblestones, launching into a full charge.

Sparks flew where his metal shoes beat on the stones as he came like evil incarnate,

ears pinned and teeth bared, head snaking as he went straight for Frado.  Fat as he was,

Frado could by no means get over the wall on my side of the street and started to

trundle to the other side and, with that, the horse was on him.  He was obviously a

well-trained cavalry mount and I thought the rider meant to let him savage his target.  

But at the last moment the trooper swung his horse just enough to clear Frado, jerked

his foot from the stirrup and kicked the slaver squarely in the back at a speed just under

that of a battle charge.  The force was so great that it picked up that mountain of a man

like a doll and deposited him face down near the opposite side of the street.

My vision had taken on the preternatural sharpness that precedes seeing nothing

and I saw in heart-stopping detail the first of what seemed like a hundred horses coming

around the curve at a fast canter.  If I had been in better condition, I would have

wondered why a number like that was coming at such speed through a country at peace,

but just then I was in no condition to care.  I lay there like something thrown on the

midden heap.

That point man didn’t have the job, though, because he was slow or stupid.  I

heard the noise of his horse coming back and saw a boy no older than myself with a

shining mane of chestnut hair already dropping from his trotting mount and running

towards me with the horse close behind.  With no time to spare, he clucked his horse

over me in the position a war horse takes to shield a fallen rider, dropped the reins

and threw himself on top of me.  He was protecting me with his body, arms curled

over my head, pulling my face into his chest, so I saw little of what followed, but I

heard it:  the tremendous din of all those horseshoes, riders cursing, horses snorting

in surprise, and the squealing and kicking of the horse over top of us.  That boy was

holding me like a lover and I could feel from his involuntary shudders that he was

inches from death, but he never moved and neither did his horse.  The troopers didn’t

want to kill their own man and horses listen to each other better than they do to us, so

between the efforts of riders and the violence of the gray horse trying to save his rider

the line shifted and passed and I was still alive.

Links:

Print edition: http://www.amazon.com/Kings-Daughter-Chronicles-Alcinia-Part/dp/1469971968/

Ebook: http://rebeccajvickery.com/online-store.php

Review of Tangled Love

I am delighted to share this review of Tangled Love which is at Amazon.uk kindle books.

Love, betrayal, treasure trove,
By

J. Pittam "Maythorn" (Hertfordshire, England)

This review is for: Tangled Love (Kindle Edition)
I very much enjoyed this new author. Tangled Love is set at the turn of the 18th century it follows the fortunes of Richelda, poverty-stricken daughter of a now-dead Jacobite. Richelda is haunted by the childhood oath she made at her father's instigation, to regain their ancestral home. She knows she has little chance of fulfilling that dream - until her wealthy aunt promises to make Richelda her heiress. But there is a condition; she must marry the man of her aunt's choosing- Viscount Lord Chesney. Richelda's feelings for Chesney are ambivalent and her heart already belongs to her peniless childhood companion, Dudley.

Love and betrayal, misplaced loyalties, even the promise of a treasure trove make this an charming story with a well-rounded, believable heroine and a delicious hero. Rosemary Morris's attention to historical detail brings period and place vividly to life. More please.

All the best,
Rosemary Morris

Guest Blog with Helen Hollick

I'm delighted to announce that I am a guest of Helen Hollick, the international best seller, at:http://helen-myguests.blogspot.com.

Helen asked me to invite ten guests - visit the blog to find out who I invited. I hope you will find them intriguing,

All the best,
Rosemary

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

Tangled Love the tale of two great houses and their owners set in 1706 available now from MuseItUppublishing,Kindle,Kobo,Sony-e-reader and elsewhere.

A Noble Place out now!

A Noble Place by Anne Brear

A Noble Place is set mostly in Berrima and surrounding district of the Southern Highlands of New South Wales.

Blurb
Australia 1850. Phillippa Noble, strong minded, spirited and adventurous, urges and encourages her
parents and her twin to emigrate to the distant land of Australia to begin again. In a new country they can
put their tainted past behind them, and Pippa can forget the unrequited love she felt for a distant cousin.
Pippa blossoms in the new country and is determined that their horse stud will be the finest in the land.
However, circumstances ensure that not all is golden. For every success, she has to bear up under the
challenges of bushfire, death, the return of an old love and danger on the goldfields. Her strength is tested
as she tries to find the right path to happiness, but it is the near loss of her dearest friend that makes her
realise true contentment rests within her grasp and she must not let it go.

EXCERPT
The sharp scent of eucalyptus permeated the air and Pippa sniffed deeply, wondrously. At intervals, trees
thick with blooms of yellow, which she knew to be called wattles, punctuated the grey-green landscape and
gum trees let their little blooms of red dance in the breeze. She jerked suddenly as a low branch jagged at
her skirt. Her father helped to extricate the material and when her petticoat's lace hem tore, she cared little. Nothing and no one could spoil this day.
Gerald grimaced at the ruined fabric. "˜You should not have come, my dear."
"˜Nonsense, Father." Pippa grinned. "A little hardship strengthens character."
"Mr Noble." Robson gestured to a large eucalyptus trunk. The surveyor's initials were cut deep into the bark.
Gerald consulted his maps. "This ridge ends another ten yards further on."
Pippa hurried the remaining distance, nearly tripping in her haste. She stepped beyond a large tree and
stopped. Below, bathed in golden glory, lay their valley. Tingles of excitement mixed with reverent joy
sucked her breath away. She scanned the horizon of rugged hills and then gazed down at the inviting valley. It was everything she'd dreamed of and more because it was real. "It's perfect."
"How in God's name are we to get down there with the wagon?" Robson mumbled, breaking her spell of
wonder. He walked closer to the edge and peered down at the jagged outcrops of rocks and boulders that
broke up the density of the trees.
Gerald took off his hat and wiped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. "Maybe further along there is
an easier route down."
They walked on for another hundred yards before finding another tree with the surveyor's initials marked in it
and also an arrow scratched next to them. Robson pointed to a gentler slope and a roughly cut track
snaking through the trees and scrub. "If the surveyor went down there, then that must be the easiest way."
He frowned. "I wonder if he took transports."
"Likely packhorses." Gerald studied his maps again.
Pippa walked to the edge of the slope. She paused to gauge the steepness and then reached for a nearby
sapling to keep her steady as she edged her way down.
"Pippa!"
Her father's shout made her stop and glance back. "It's all right, Father. Hold on to the trees."
Robson and Gerald hurried towards her and gingerly made their way down to her side. Gerald gripped her
arm. "You are too headstrong. It was a foolish thing to do."
She tossed her head. "I wasn't going to be left behind."
"You'll be the death of me, girl," Gerald panted and wiped his forehead again.
As they concentrated on getting safely to the bottom, the sounds of the bush intensified. An unseen bird
made the sound of a whiplash cutting the air, flies buzzed, twigs snapped underfoot and small lizards
slithered over rocks.
The track brought them out on the left side of the valley. At the bottom, the trees and scrub thinned out to
grassy plains. Emerging out of the shade, the heat intensified. Pippa wished she had brought her parasol
with her, but had left it in the gig so she could hold her skirts up with both hands. Sweat trickled inside her
collar and dampened her bonnet. She licked her dry lips. "Is there water close by?"
"Here, miss, I have water with me." Robson handed her a leather-bound canteen.
"Thank you." She stopped to drink and chuckled as the cool and pleasant water trickled down her chin.
Drinking from a canteen was an art she had not yet mastered.
"Do you see that thin line of gum trees in the middle over there?" Robson pointed in front of them.
Pippa studied the ragged thin line and nodded.
"Those trees edge the creek bank." He turned to Gerald. "Do you see that flat rise to the right of the creek
bend, Mr Noble?"
"Aye, lad, I do."
Robson smiled. "I think it would make an ideal homestead site."
Gerald slapped Robson on the shoulder. "I think you may be right, my man."
Pippa hesitated as the two men walked on. She slowly turned a full circle, taking in the broad sweep of the
valley. Acres of waist-high brown grass rippled in the infinite breeze like a long slow wave on a lazy sea.
She strolled on, enjoying the feeling of walking on her own land. She now understood the power it gave men
and why they did almost anything to acquire property. They broke their backs trying to keep it viable in the
hard times and, in good times, they looked to buy more.
The intensity of her feelings was frightening. Her land. Her future.

REVIEWS
Anne Whitfield has written a wonderful saga of passion, promise and survival featuring a strong and valiant
heroine who is in the same league as Catherine Cookson's Tilly Trotter and Barbara Taylor Bradford's
Emma Harte in A Woman of Substance. Courageous and independent, Pippa Noble is a heroine readers
will admire, cheer for and hope to emulate.
With its spellbinding blend of romance, heartbreak, passion and drama, A Noble Place is the perfect book
to curl up with on a cold autumn night. Don't miss it!
Review by Julie for SingleTitles.com

Buy now for Kindle!

http://www.amazon.com/A-Noble-Place-ebook/dp/B007BFIXKG/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1329790431&sr=1-1-catcorr

Happy Valentines! Come share the Romance!

Happy Valentine's Day! Please come share the romance - tell us if you are doing anything romantic today and please feel free to add your romantic reads to the comments section below.

Tell us about your books and stories! If you have any offers or Giveaways for Valentines, please feel free to add those in the comments section, too!

Whispering Shadows

Whispering Shadows is a romantic ghost story with a mystery, set close to Florence in Italy.  I got the idea for it when visiting one of the many museums there. It was first published by Mills & Boon, later by Severn House, and is now enjoying a new life as an ebook.

Abigail Carter feels stifled as companion to Emilia Goodenough, and the responsibility of her wayward sister Polly. Then Emilia's nephew, Carl Montegne, sweeps the ladies off to Italy to help him search for the long lost family fortune. But even a romantic castello doesn't stem the friction between them - until the quest suddenly turns to danger, and Abigail discovers the extent of her feelings. 

This short extract comes when Abigail is helping Carl to clean and restore his family's castello.

 

'What will you do with this place?’ she asked, and Carl’s jaw tightened as if she had no right to put such a question.
   ‘Live in it, what else?’
   She stared at him consideringly for a moment, but the question niggling in her mind had to be asked. ‘How could you afford to?’ By the narrowing of his eyes and the white line that formed above the rigid mouth Abigail saw she’d over stepped the boundary of good manners despite her efforts to the contrary. ‘I’m sorry; it really is none of my business.’ He looked so infuriated and yet oddly flattened by her question that she felt guilty and instinctively put out a hand. ‘Forget it. I had no right to ask.’ Desperately she looked about for a diversion. ‘What a very splendid fireplace. And that brass clock is showing the solar system, is it not? How lovely.’
    ‘My father was born here.’
     Abigail looked up at him in surprise. She saw by the tautness of the skin about the eyes the strain he was under, and by the set of his shoulders how he fought it. When he said nothing more she quickly averted her eyes from his face. ‘I dare say they used to cut logs the length of small trees for this dog grate.’ Anything to fill the awkward silence.
   Carl was still standing by the vast sideboard, fingering Saturn as if to etch it into his memory. ‘There would once have been pewter and silver plate on this sideboard, majolica from Urbino, and, on the floor, skins and embroidered rugs from the East. A house with money and style, but, I think, very little love. My father, Filippo, ran away from his home while still a young man because he did not get on with his own father, as I in my turn did not get on with mine.’

   ‘How very sad.’
   He shrugged as if it were of no account, yet she knew that was not the case. ‘My grandfather, Guiliano di Montegelo, was said to be very autocratic and had it in mind for my father to marry a rather dull elderly lady who had ample funds but few charms.’ Carl gave the ghost of a smile. ‘My father refused and ran away with my mother, Vittoria, a girl he had known all his life.’
   ‘How romantic.’ Abigail was staring at the softened face, entranced. But this sensitivity was soon masked and the tone became cool and practical once more.
   ‘Not in the least. They spent half a lifetime wandering like gypsies, determined not to return here, waiting for the old man to die, so wrapped up in their own needs there was no place in their life for anything or anyone else, not even a small boy.’
   ‘That’s why they sent you to England, to school?’
   ‘Let’s say that I was an encumbrance.’ The bitter tone showed how deeply the hurt had scored. ‘But the castle, now that the old man is long dead, and with no other di Montegelo left but me, is now entirely mine.’ There was grim satisfaction in the voice and the dark eyes glittered with purpose. ‘I intend, for the first time in my life, to have a real home. To stay here, in Italy, and build a new life. Whatever it takes to restore this place to its former beauty will be done. I have to do it, do you see?’ He glared at her then, and as he looked into her eyes the gaze softened slightly and he smiled. ‘I don’t mean to sound so vehement, but it is important to me. Can you understand?’
   Abigail nodded and came to stand before him, to rest her hands impulsively upon his. ‘Oh, I do. And I’m sure that you will achieve your aim. You can do anything in the world if you want to, my mother always says so, and I believe that, don’t you?’
   Carl laughed out loud and, taking her by surprise, wrapped his arms about her, hugging her to him. ‘I wish I could. It is a pleasantly comforting maxim. What a treasure you are. But there was little money with the inheritance, and precious few signs of family artefacts here.’ He sighed, looking about him with a grim resignation, but still not releasing her from his hold. She felt her own breathing move in accord with his. ‘I am not without funds, but this project is going to take all of them and more besides.’
   Abigail had both of her hands flat against his broad chest. She could feel his heartbeat, her own seeming to match it as she smiled up at him. ‘I believe you can do it.’ His soft breath whispered over her lips as he looked down into her upturned face. She read a flicker of delight and surprise in his eyes, and something she didn’t dare name.
   After a long moment he allowed his lips to tilt into a smile. ‘Every man, they say, needs a woman to believe in him.’ He continued to study her, his hands holding her fast against the hard length of him, so that Abigail could not have moved had she wanted to. Never had she been so close to a man before and it made her go hot and cold all over just thinking about it. ‘I thank you,’ he said, and, reaching down, put his lips gently upon hers and kissed her.
   They tasted warm and slightly salty, and as Abigail melted against him she felt his hands curl into her back, gripping her tightly as if a spasm had shot through him. Then it was over and he was giving a half laugh, striding away from her, calling over his shoulder that they would do the rest of the house another day, while Abigail rocked upon her feet, her head in a spin.

You can download a longer sample or buy the book on Amazon:

My first MM story and first from Samhain is out today. The story takes place in two locations, Wyoming and London. Well, and a bit of the south coast! I used a location I researched on Google and then later went to see it for myself. (See me in photo) Lucky Google had it right!





Stockbroker meets stock breaker. But who’s taming whom?

London stockbroker Jasper Randolph flies to Jackson Hole with hopes as high as the Grand Tetons. Hope that the getaway will force him to let loose, get dirty, and overcome a deep-seated phobia about horseback riding.

He hadn’t counted on an attraction to the dude ranch owner’s son, a man with sun-tousled hair, eyes bluer than Wyoming skies…and a father who’d rather eat tofu than accept his only son’s sexuality.

The moment Calum lays eyes on the uptight, buttoned-down Brit, he’s lost. But with his own saddlebags full of emotional baggage, he knows he should be looking at anything but Jasper’s spotless riding boots and tight-fitting jodhpurs. Trouble is, Jasper makes his heart buck like a wild horse trying to break free.

Despite the differences that set them oceans apart, they fall hard and fast. Trouble isn’t far behind, and they’re in for a rocky romantic ride. Especially since there’s growing evidence that someone is willing to do anything—no matter how dangerous—to poison their love.

Product Warnings

Mix one sun-bronzed cowboy with a yummy Brit who’d give Darcy in his wet shirt a run for his money. Mix gently. Try not to drool.





http://store.samhainpublishing.com/cowboys-down-p-6636.html


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