I’d like to firstly thank Vonnie for hosting me on her blog! This is a treat!
As you may have guessed from my cover pic, I write erotic romance. However, my day job is working for my local library. While working there, I have ample opportunity to talk to patrons who also love romance books of every genre. I also hear comments from folks who still think romance is fluff. Is it?
Absolutely not! Romance is vital to our existence, in my humble opinion. Can you imagine what a life without romance would be? Not to denigrate anyone who doesn’t currently have love in their lives…I’m not talking about being in a relationship. I’m talking about seeing the world through romantic eyes.
Think of the works of art given to the world by visionaries such as Botticelli and Fragonard. These artists were completely ruled by a sense of romance, by a sense of whimsy and playful mischief. Think of the great works of literature. My life just would not be the same if Jane Eyre or Les Miserables hadn’t been written. In fact, I’m pretty sure Jane Eyre is the reason I got into romance writing.
It doesn’t have to be about grand gestures. Sometimes, romance is a simple look of yearning, or a hand held in a crowd. And sometimes it’s about mysteries that one cannot fathom. That is the sort of romance I’ve explored in my paranormal romance The Selkie. It is a mystical, mythical love story and my heroine must come to accept what it before her very astounded eyes. Love does not always present in the form of a mild-mannered businessman or dentist. Sometimes, love surprises us in the form of a leather-wearing man of myth!
So, when those crusty library patrons shake their heads at romance books, I just smile quietly. I know the power of romance literature. And I think you do, too.
This was supposed to be her year. However, after losing her job and discovering her fiancé cheating, Maggie Collins has her doubts. When her grandmother dies, she hits rock bottom. Maggie travels to her grandmother’s home in Orkney, Scotland to sort through her gran’s things, only to discover the old woman has left her a seal pelt as her inheritance. She also learns that others are after the pelt.
To add to her frustration, Maggie’s dreams are filled with luscious images of a long-haired man, images that draw her to the magical beaches in Orkney. Although she’s lost her trust in men, this dream man inspires her with a lust she’s never known before.
Calan Kirk has also been dreaming. Dreaming of Maggie, the mortal woman who arouses him as no other woman ever has. Meeting her in the flesh when she arrives in Orkney is nothing short of spontaneous sexual combustion. But she is a human, and not to be trusted. He needs the seal pelt, not a red-haired temptress.
As a thief ransacks Maggie’s grandmother’s house, Maggie and Calan are thrust together. They must search for the animal skin, a mythical relic which once found, will either bring them together or rip them apart forever.
She continued to meander down the beach, taking the odd swig from a flask of brandy she’d pilfered from Nora’s stocked liquor cabinet. However, Maggie soon realized the real seal was following her. With each step she took, he glided through the water as if in step with her.
She nodded toward it. “You’re sweet, but I’m probably not the best playmate for you right now.”
She’d seen seals on the beach before with her gran. The locals were always pointing out spots where one could glimpse the sleek animals, or “selkies” as they called them. But this one seemed persistent. He seemed to stare back at her, with intensity. As a human would. As if he knew her.
As if he knew every inch of her skin, as well as its feel.
Maggie swallowed. Had she turned against men so definitively that she was turning to the animal kingdom?
And then she laughed at the ludicrous thought. She was grieving. For a lot of things. No wonder her brains felt just as scrambled as Liz’s breakfast eggs and just as dark as the black pudding she’d plopped on the plate next to them.
“Okay.” She relented, smiling at the seal. “Maybe some company might be nice.”
The animal bobbed in the water, as if in agreement. Maggie stared out at the beast, and was lost for a second in his brown eyes. She felt comforted, protected, by his vigilant presence.
For some reason, she felt she knew him, and that she was meant to be in this exact spot at this precise time. For a quick moment, she had the impression she was standing on the edge of a huge cliff, destined to tumble from its heights into the welcoming waves below.
For the first time in her life, Maggie experienced a peculiar sense of destiny.