Blog by VONNIE DAVIS -- International, Award-Winning Romance Author: Adventurous...Humorous...Amorous.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Captured by the Pirate Laird by Amy Jarecki

My guest today is the lovely and talented Amy Jarecki. And she's quite smart, too, which I adore. Amy has written several Scottish historical romances while I am finishing up final edits on my first Scottish contemporary paranormal. Because she once studied Scotland, her stories ring true with accurate details thanks to her meticulous research.

Amy, tell us what part of the writing process brings you the most pleasure? The most angst?  

This is a great question. When I first started writing, I loved the drafting process, my fingers flying across the keyboard, the story coming to life as fast as I could type. But now that I have a dozen manuscripts under my belt, I actually prefer the revision process. Drafting is still fun, but as I draft, I know I cannot make the story as good as it can be. Only through the revision process can I massage the words and bring the story alive. 

Has your road to publication been a walk in the park or a steep mountain climb? Give us some details?  

I would definitely say a steep mountain climb. Very few people find this an easy road. I wrote two novels in the late 90’s. They’re now buried in a shallow grave. Due to life happening with kids, divorce, work promotions, taking care of aging parents…you name it, I didn’t write another manuscript until 2010. That book, Boy Man Chief (a Native American historical fantasy), won the Utah League of Writers Award for Best Manuscript and the Spark Book Award, and was published by a small press. Then I decided to try my luck with romance…contemporary and romantic suspense. I sold four more books to another small press and started writing historical romance (after all, I got my Master’s degree in Scotland). I won a few more contests, got a New York agent…and I still consider myself climbing the mountain. Will I ever reach the top? Who knows, but I’m having one heck of a time on this journey! 

Tell us about your current release…or soon to be release.  

I’m so glad you asked! *rubs hands and waggles eyebrows* CAPTURED BY THE PIRATE LAIRD is a sinfully sexy Scottish historical romance which features a rugged Scottish warrior whose only care is the protection of his clan…until an English gentlewoman ignites in him a fevered desire so powerful, it threatens to ruin them all.
Ohh, we do love sinfully sexy, don't we, ladies? *Vonnie waggles her eyebrows, too* Now for some quick questions...

1.   Heels, sneakers or flip-flops?

Pink flip flops.

2.   Chocolate, champagne or cheesecake?

Champagne…but only one glass.

3.   SUV, sports car or minivan?

Sports car…a vintage one in red or pink.

4.   Earrings, bracelets or navel piercing?

Earrings…dangly ones that sparkle.

5.   Fav vacation destination: beach, mountains or city?

Scotland…the Highlands.
Now, share your cover and blurb, Amy...
Wed by proxy to a baron old enough to be her grandfather, Lady Anne trudges up the gangway of a galleon that will deliver her into the arms of a tyrant. Crestfallen, she believes her disastrous life cannot get worse—until she awakes to the blasts of cannon fire.
Facing certain death, Anne trembles in her stateroom while swords clash and the chilling screams of battle rage on the deck above. When a rugged Highlander kicks in her door, she prays for a swift end. 
But Laird Calum MacLeod has a reason for plundering the ship—and it’s not a stunning English lass. With no other choice, he takes Anne to his crumbling keep on the isle of Raasay and sends a letter of ransom to her husband. In time, Anne grows to understand MacLeod’s plight and finds it increasingly difficult to resist Calum’s unsettling charm—until the baron sends a reply agreeing to terms.
Ripped from passion that will be forever seared into their souls, will Anne and Calum risk everything for love?
Captured by the Pirate Laird ~ First Kiss:
Anne turned and caught him staring. He bowed and his heart melted when she smiled—a smile with dimples that could light up the horizon. He half expected her to turn up her pert little nose and head the other way.
Before he could persuade himself otherwise, Calum pattered down the steps and stood beside her. She watched the sunset and her warmth pulled him close like a magnet.
“’Tis beautiful,” she said when the sky shone with orange and pink, highlighted against the strips of clouds that sailed toward the ship.
He inhaled. Her scent ever so feminine, Calum inclined his head to capture more of it. “Aye, milady.”
She placed her hand on the rail. Again his reflexes took over and he rested his palm atop it. Calum expected her to snatch it away, but she did not. Her fingers were cold and he held his much warmer hand there as a comfort. They stood in silence as the sun glowed orange-red on the horizon. He wanted to stand there forever—touching her. Barely breathing, he watched the sun disappear and held his hand still, unwilling to move it.
The sun was replaced by darkness. Lady Anne slipped her hand out from under his and the dark of the evening took up residence inside him. She was not his to lust after. “May I walk you to your stateroom?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded husky. Had she felt the connection too? Of course not.
Calum offered his arm and that same small, cold hand grasped it. “We’ll arrive at Raasay in the morning.”
“Our destination?”
“Bran told me.”
Secrets were impossible to keep on a ship. “I will send a letter of ransom to yer husband upon our arrival.” He didn’t like how that sounded—ye are my prisoner until Lord Wharton pays for your release. But that’s how it had to be. If he sailed up the mouth of the River Aln, he would incite yet another war between Scotland and England—and this time his countrymen might side with the enemy.
When they stepped into the corridor, warm air relaxed the tension in his shoulders.
Anne stopped outside her cabin door, breasts straining against her bodice with every breath. “I’ve never met him.”
Calum forced himself to concentrate on her face. “Who?”
“Lord Wharton.”
“What? How?”
“We were wed by proxy. My uncle made the arrangements.”
Ah Jesus. Calum understood the way of highborn marriages, arranged for the trade of lands and riches. “Ye ken he’s old enough to be your father?”
“He’s three times my age plus one year to be exact. His children are older than I.”
A hundred questions flooded his mind. “Why?” he clipped with shocked disbelief.
Anne nodded as if fully understanding his monosyllabic inquiry. “I’m told the Baron fancied me from across Westminster Abbey during the Queen’s coronation.”
“No.” She doesn’t even know the bastard. That’s why she wears no ring.
“Yes. My uncle said he kissed my hand, yet so many lords greeted me on that trip to London, I’m at a loss to place him.”
The despair in her lovely eyes twisted around his heart. “Mayhap ye will remember if we playact it.” With a halfcocked grin, Calum reached for her hand. His mouth went dry when her silken skin met the rough pads of his fingertips. Though a grown woman, her fingers were fine and delicate.
When she didn’t pull away, he moistened his lips and bowed. Hovering above her hand, the soft scent of honeysuckle mixed with her—the unmistakable scent of woman now more captivating than it had been on the deck—ignited his insides as if she stood naked before him. Closing his eyes, he touched his lips to the back of her hand and kissed. Anne’s sharp inhale made his skin shiver with gooseflesh. She did not try to pull away but remained so still, her pulse beat a fierce rhythm beneath.
Calum held his lips there longer than necessary. He wanted this moment to linger. He wanted a memory he could cherish long after she was gone. His eyes locked with hers as he straightened. Her lips parted slightly, almost as if asking him to kiss her mouth, but he knew she wouldn’t want that.
He stood for a moment not saying a word. She did too.
“Any recollection?” His voice rasped.
“No.” Her voice low, she then blinked as if snapping back to the present. “You mustn’t ever do that again.”
“Apologies, milady.” Grinning, he opened her door and bowed, though he did not regret her lack of recall.
Anne stepped into her stateroom. Calum could not pull his gaze away until the door closed and blocked the bewilderment reflected in her sapphire eyes. Calum waited a moment and stared at the hardwood door—the same one he had kicked in five nights ago. What the hell was he doing?
He ground his teeth and headed back to the quarterdeck. He needed to get the lady out of his life. She was not his to care for. Worst of all, she had wed the enemy.
Twitter: @amyjarecki



Amy Jarecki said...

Hi Vonnie, Thank you so much for having me on your blog today, and where did you find that sexy pink sports car? I definitely want one!!!

Kathy Otten said...

Hi Amy,
Do you prefer pink champagne too?;) Funny how when you're young it seems like there is so much time to do the things we want to do, like write. Then life happens, not that it's bad, it just is, but one day you look in the mirror and say where did the time go? Then you realize it's time to grab what you want to do.
Glad you never gave up your dream. Your new book looks good. Best wishes for many sales!

Amy Jarecki said...

Hi Kathy...definitely pink champagne. I agree, live life to its fullest!

Angela Adams said...

Awesome Book Cover!

Amy Jarecki said...

Thank you, Angela!