Blog by VONNIE DAVIS -- International, Award-Winning Romance Author: Adventurous...Humorous...Amorous.
Showing posts with label Midievel Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Midievel Romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Ashley York, A Hardcore Romantic


I've got a special guest to share with you today--Amazon Best Selling Author, Ashley York, who pens books and novellas of Medieval Romance and Intrigue.

Aside from two years spent in the wilds of the Colorado mountains, Ashley York is a proud life-long New Englander and a hardcore romantic. She has an MA in History which brings with it, through many years of research, a love for primary documents and the smell of musty old libraries. With her author's imagination, she likes to write about people who could have lived alongside those well-known giants from the past.

Sounds exciting, doesn't it? She has a new novella releasing today and, lucky us, we get to hear about it hot off the ebook presses. Here's her blurb:

Outcast and alone, Thomasina MacDonell is hell bent on finding her brother, the only person who can thwart their father's latest scheme to offer her as payment for his gambling debts. Disguised as a lad, she defiantly sets off on foot to locate him—never expecting to find a handsome, Irish warrior riding her beloved horse. The warrior's offer of help and unsolicited advice on how to be manlier sparks an intimate desire to reveal her more feminine side.
Rejected by the love of his life, Sean O'Cisoghe wants simply to return home and heal his broken heart. When a young "lad" steals the horse out from under him, he discerns the spirited woman may be in way over her head against her ruthless father. Finding her brother while keeping her would-be betrothed at bay, Sean must confront the fact that Thomasina has stolen his heart. Will Norman soldiers out for his blood and shifting clan alliances cut short their growing passion?
 
Sean had expected her to struggle which was why he had her arm tucked between his body and hers, and her other arm held tight to her side. What he had not expected was to be so affected by her. Alarm bells were sending waves of regret—and overwhelming desire—coursing through him. Not one of his finest moments. If she ever settled down, she’d certainly find his arousal as upsetting as her anticipated punishment. He had no plans to actually slap her bottom, he just wanted honest answers. He found a threat worked best.

“So before I land my hand on yer arse since ye’re so deserving—oof.” Her elbow poked into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. He pulled her closer in to him and raised his knees to keep her lodged there. “—how about ye try telling me the truth for once and then I can be on my way.”

“Ye whoreson! Who do ye think ye are? Let me go!” She continued her struggles.

Her tempting bottom wiggling from side to side was hard to ignore. He needed to disarm her and quickly. “What? Nae clearing of yer throat to sound like a lad?”

“Let me go.” She pulled her knees in and managed to plow into his groin. The pain excruciating. He reacted with a hard slap to her bottom. She stilled. He held his breath until the sharp pain lessened then yanked her legs out straight.

He adjusted her away from him to ease the pressure on his groin. She didn’t need to know specifically what she had managed to do. “Try that again and I’ll make ye sorry.”

“I’ll make ye sorry!” she hollered back at him.

He didn’t hide the smile. She remained motionless across his lap. Her delightful bottom at his disposal but he refrained from touching her.

“I’m not an idiot. I ken when ye’re lying to me and here I’ve done nothing but try to assist ye.”

“Assist me? Was that when ye insulted me? Told me I was girly?”

“Ye are a girl!”

“And is that what ye wanted me to tell ye?” She rolled back so she could look him in the face. “Is that why ye teased me mercilessly?”

“Nae! I wanted ye to remember to act like a boy, damn it! Ye kept slipping up! How could I take ye to the village with everyone seeing ye for what ye are? They’d have been all over ye like ticks on a dog.”

“Ye bastard!” She started kicking her legs with wild abandon. “Let me go. Let me go.”

With one arm wrapped around her narrow waist, he stood, holding her like a sack of corn. Placing her away from him, he held each arm in a firm grip against her side. She hunched forward, breathing heavy from the exertion. And all he could think about was covering her mouth with his, of tasting her lips, her skin, of running his fingers through her tangled mane. He was near exploding with desire for her.

“Stop this! I deserve to ken the truth.” Sean’s voice sounded strained and he prayed she wouldn’t realize why. “Thomasina!”

It was a beautiful name. It fit her perfectly.

Closing her mouth, Tommy looked to be getting herself under control. Her eyes on him, she shook as if overcome by his audacity. Mayhap he should have taken to paddling her as she so deserved but he feared he’d feel worse than she would. Beating a woman was not in his nature. That one spank had been an unexpected reaction to pain. Slapping her bottom was the farthest thing from what he wanted to do with it.

“Truth!” he groaned aloud. “Put me out of my misery.”

She looked surprised at his outburst then took a shaky breath. “Yea! Ye deserve the truth.”

“And do ye ken the truth?” Sean leveled his gaze. “I dunna need any more pretenses here. Not now.”

Not when his body yearned to be betwixt her legs as he pounded into her, receiving his need, answering with her own passion. She had no idea. She would have no idea. He kept his gaze fixed on her face despite the heaving breasts and the sweat trickling down her neck into places he’d like to follow with his tongue. 


BUY LINK: http://amzn.com/B01593SYQO
Connect with her online at:
 
Email: ashleyyork1066@gmail.com
Twitter: @ashleyyork1066


Sunday, January 12, 2014

Barbara Bettis brings Silverhawk


My guest today is Barbara Bettis, a lovely, warm lady who's always so supportive of other writers. She's a fellow author at The Wild Rose Press. And I am super, super thrilled to have her here.

Hi Vonnie. Thanks for the warm welcome. I’m so happy to be on your delightful blog today. I remember sometime ago when you appeared on my blog, you offered to host me when I finally published. That day is finally here! J WooHoo! 

And today is a good day: It’s the official starting day of the second half of my year. That may sound odd, but it leads into to a question you had asked: 

What is your life like away from the computer? 

I’m an English comp instructor at a nearby college, and I spend most of my time away from the computer at home grading essays. Actually, it works out fine, because during holidays, I revise my writing schedule. Ironically I’ve found I’m more organized when I have several demands on my time. When I finally retire—to devote more time to writing—my first challenge will be to make sure I have specific deadlines so that I still feel that urgency. 

You have my dream job--teaching college level English composition. Sadly, I'm a tad old for a career change. Tell us, what are you currently working on?

Right now I’m completing edits on my next medieval The Heart of the Phoenix, Evie’s story. I’m also working on the account of how her brother Henry met his wife, Katherine. Looks like that will be a novella. Its working title is Lady of the Forest. The action actually takes place immediately after the final battle in Silverhawk, and features the end (at last) of the villain, Sir Paxton. (Don’t you love the way our characters seem like real people?) 

They are real...in our minds and hearts. If your new release were being made into a movie who would you cast to play your heroine and hero? 

I’m so glad you asked that question. J  

Silverhawk /Giles—definitely Richard Armitage (with light gray eyes, of course.) In fact, his photo served as inspiration throughout the writing of the book.
 
 

Emelin is a bit more difficult to choose. I finally settled on Amy Adams.
 
 
Now for my Fast Five -- 

1.   Heels, sneakers or flip-flops?                           
Heels

2.   Chocolate, champagne or cheesecake? 
            
Yes, please. Oh, I have to choose...only...one?  Dang. Chocolate, I suppose. 

3.   SUV, sports car or minivan?
                            
I could do a small SUV. It must be small or I’ll run into things. 

4.   Earrings, bracelets or navel piercing? 
              
Earrings. I love bracelets but they clatter on the desk when I’m typing.  

5.   Fav vacation destination: beach, mountains or city?
City (I’m thinking London)

Blurb:

He’s everything a proper lady should never want; she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have. 

Sir Giles has come to England to kill his father, who seduced and betrayed his mother. First, however, he’ll seek sweet revenge—kidnap the old lord’s new betrothed. But when Giles uncovers a plot against King Richard, he faces a dilemma: take the lady or track the traitors. What’s a good mercenary to do? Both, of course. 

Lady Emelin has had enough. Abandoned in a convent by her brother, she finally has a chance for home and family. Yet now she’s been abducted. Her kidnapper may be the image of her dream knight, but she won’t allow him to spoil this betrothal. Her only solution: escape. 

Rescuing the intrepid lady—while hunting traitors—is a challenge Giles couldn’t anticipate.  But the greatest challenge to Giles and Emelin is the fire blazing between them. For he’s everything a proper lady should never want, and she’s everything a bastard mercenary can never have.

 
Excerpt:

The Lady’s Garden. Such a grand name for the stick and weed enclosure beside the keep. Giles eased open the weathered door, the faded wood rough against his fingers. He tipped his shoulder to slip through the narrow opening. The musty smell of plants gone to seed hung in the air, and he inhaled the odor. Strange, the comfort he felt, like a flash of memory. 

He glanced around. Where was his quarry? Moonlight flooded the enclosure, and several bonfires in the bailey sent wavering light bobbing over the fence top. Emelin knelt at a patch of what looked like dead grass, undoubtedly remnants of flowers. Perhaps they’d resembled the colorful blossoms that once dotted his mother’s palm-sized yard. How she’d loved the sparse but fragrant blooms that escaped their one hen’s search for food. His head jerked. God’s blood! Why had those thoughts surfaced just now, of a nearly forgotten long ago? This was neither time nor place for childish reminiscence. 

Intent once more on the graceful figure before him, he picked his way through the tangle of growth. She wore the same green gown as when he arrived, some kind of embroidered figures at the neck and wrist. The color suited her vibrant auburn hair, draped now with a flimsy square of fine white linen. He should have known the color would be fiery to match her spirit. 

As he advanced, the bright moonlight cast his shoulders as a darker shadow on the ground ahead. By the rigid set of her back, he knew she heard him.  

She sat back on her heels with an exaggerated sigh. “Would you move your shoulders, Sir Knight? They block what meager light I’ve found.” 

If a tone could cross its arms and tap its toe, hers did. A lightness inside him felt shockingly like a smile. That’s why he was here. She amused him. 

“Where would you like me to move them, my lady?” 

“London, I should think.”

 
 




Buy link for Amazon-Kindle:  http://amzn.to/1bQX3td

Buy link for The Wild Rose Press: http://bit.ly/1bM6ua2

Buy link for B & N-Nook: http://bit.ly/19O8cZS