Saturday, 25 February 2017

Love Romance and Dragons. See my Medieval Romance Fantasy, The Virgin, the Knight, and the Dragon

The Virgin, the Knight, and the Dragon (MF)
Medieval Creatures 2
Heat Rating: SENSUAL
Word Count: 24,824
Fantasy,  Historical,  Romantic Suspense

PRE-ORDER HERE!

AVAILABLE: Wednesday, March 8th

[Bookstrand Romance: Historical, Fantasy, Romantic Suspense, HEA]

This story is a sequel to my Medieval Creatures 1 book, The Virgin, the Knight and the Unicorn.

BUY BOTH BOOKS HERE

Blurb

Can Princess Adela, heiress to a deadly destiny, be saved by the love of a knight errant?

The youngest of nine sons, Jesse is used to neglect and hand-me-downs. Becoming a knight through his own efforts, he encounters a beautiful, virtually naked stranger in the countryside above the farmlands of his old home. Who is she and how can he help her?

Flaxen-haired Adela D’Varm is compelled by the magic of a faery geas to remain in the high grasslands until she is rescued by a knight—a worthy knight who must contend with a dragon. But this dragon is no ravening beast, as knights soon discover if they offer Adela any insult.

Amiable and truly chivalrous, Jesse is different. Through their encounters—amusing, tender, exciting—he and Adela fall in love. But, even as they marry, Jesse and Adela encounter a deadly conspiracy and a final test for Adela.

It seems that Jesse has deserted her—or has he?

 Excerpt:


Ahead he could hear a deep rumbling, like a cat purring—a cat the size of a hut. There was a smell of blood in the air and a savour of roasted meat.
Dragons, like wolves, prefer to feast on horses, not men.
From where had that thought sprung? Jesse felt for an instant as if he was bathed in heat—real, forge-hot heat. Older memories and stories trickled up and down his back in a messy puddle of sweat.
A dragon. Walter the shepherd whispered there was once a dragon up on these high grasslands. A creature of faery. Maybe it has returned.
The sweat turned clammy on his back. Trying not to stiffen up, Jesse choked down a cough. Above him, how high and how far off he did not want to know, he listened to the sounds of gnawing.
Turn back or go on? Either action held both appeal and risk. To retreat might mean survival or a blast of fire at his back. To go on—if he bested a dragon, he would be as famous as Beowulf.
No doubt Beowulf was an elder son . With my luck, I could win and gain nothing but a few coins for my trouble. Any treasure would be claimed by my older brothers.
Jesse stopped crawling. Roast horse swirled in his nostrils and, despite his wavering dread, his mouth watered. Wanting to travel light and make haste, he had not eaten well for days. Succulent, hot meat tempted him to raise his head.
A dragon rose on its haunches to tear and swallow a morsel of some animal that once may have been horse. Again Jesse’s hunger flared.
His older brothers would never have attempted what he planned, but that was a virtue. Why not? he decided, as the dragon took another bite. A dainty bite, he noted, for a beast as long as a cavalcade.
It did not kill the knight. The thought was almost a prayer. Inspired—or mad, or truly desperate—Jesse threw down his weapons and rose out of the grass, his hands filled with herbs. He averted his eyes, hardly daring to look.
“Good day.” He was glad he had planted his feet wide apart and pitched his greeting above the steady breeze of the dragon’s breathing. “May I join you?
“I have brought herbs.” He raised his cupped fingers, allowing some greenery to slip from his hands so the dragon would know he was unarmed. “Good eating herbs, wild parsley, wild mint, wild sorrel, also called vinegar leaves. I think you will find they enhance the taste of your meat.”
He stepped forward, placed the herbs on a boulder, and stepped back. “The marigold is simply for the colour,” he added, his throat growing dry again as he sensed the dragon leaning closer.
It must work, a wild, mad babbling voice wailed in his head. Dragons are said to be silver-tongued and to understand speech. And I like animals. Jesse had worked with hawks, horses, oxen, sheep, chickens, and goats and found each creature appealing, in its own way. Dragons were creatures of faery, and perhaps more. If there is a dragon, there must be a maiden close, a living maid. The old stories always have both.
Those jaws of hell gaped nearer, each tooth sharper than any sword. Through his half-closed eyes, it seemed to Jesse for an instant that the beast was smiling, which was surely impossible. Determined to look his probable death in the face, Jesse stretched on tiptoe,  raised his head and stared.
Now he could study it more closely. The dragon  was a shining gold blending to silver, lean and long as a vast snake or a whip, but with powerful legs and a deep chest. Jesse could not see any wings, but he did note, with a certain detached surprise, as of someone who could perish at any second, that the beast was ornamented with flashes of silver and gold scales about its neck, like a necklace. It had a narrow, almost elegant snout, prick ears topped by small, shiny spines, and deep large eyes the colour of an emerald. Strangely beautiful eyes that were considering him in a thoughtful, almost tender way .
“Thank you.” The voice sounding in his head was not his, though how had the dragon spoken?
Jesse decided not to trouble over that and made a bow. He sensed the dragon deftly plucking at the herbs, heard the faint scratch of very sharp claws on the boulder, then flinched as a round cut of steaming horse steak was placed on top of the boulder, laid neatly beside the rest of the herbs.
No one would believe I shared my dinner with a dragon. Jesse ate in a daze. The meat was cooked to a turn, and tender.
“Thank you for the flowers.” Again the voice that was not his sounded in his head.
Jesse harnessed his manners and his wits and swallowed the final piece of meat before he answered. “It is my pleasure.”
A wave of heat surged over his neck, followed by a percussive clap of huge, scaly wings. The force half stunned Jesse, and when he stirred again the dragon was gone.

“Good day.” A small slim young woman stood over him. She gave the same greeting that he had given the dragon, and her dainty bare feet rested in the hollow made by the dragon’s claws. “Are you hurt?”
Jesse shook his head. The woman seemed to be wearing nothing but a cloak. She had a flower in her electrum-pale hair, a marigold.
The same as the spray I gifted the dragon. She has the same colour scales—sorry, hair—as the beast, and the same deep green eyes. What is going on?







Saturday, 31 December 2016

ALMOST HOME ON KINDLE

check out Almost Home
  buy link on Kindle





Almost Home Blurb

Boston, December 1966

They share a love so profound nothing can separate them…

Musician Nick Zelmenis is in love with ballet dancer Krista McBaine, has been since they were teens. They finally figure out how to share their love and stay together for keeps. But change always happens. When Nick’s band is offered a record deal they wonder if this will tear them apart. On top of that they must separate from each other before the holiday. Then Nick is caught in a raging snowstorm while traveling on his Yamaha trying to make it home. If that isn’t enough, he must tap his suppressed supernatural gifts, unsure of what the outcome may be. Will his psychic abilities help him find a way back to Krista or will they end up alone without each other on Christmas?

Kaye Manro
website 
blog




© copyright Kaye Manro 2016


Sunday, 11 December 2016

LORD LOVELY is here!


LORD LOVELY, Book 2 of The Feather Fables, is here!

Ladies adore him. Gentlemen despise him. But everyone is dying to learn the identity of the anonymous male romance author known as LORD LOVELY.

“How lovely” sigh the ladies of Regency London as they read Lord Lovely’s books, thus giving the gentleman his popular (and somewhat annoying) name. Who is this gentleman who writes such splendid stories of love? He has to be young, handsome, witty and able to fulfill any woman’s sexual fantasies.

No! Say the gentlemen. Any man who writes about love affairs must be too unattractive to have one of his own. He’s probably old, fat, bald and missing a few teeth. At least they hope he is.

Ladies in a tizzy, gentlemen ready to commit murder, London aquiver with controversy. Lord Lovely’s fame and book sales increase by the hour.

The gentleman known as Lord Lovely scratches his head. How could his books touch off such a conflagration? Granted, male romance authors are a rare breed, but not entirely unknown.

The problem is how to reveal himself. Or should he? He welcomes his books’ earnings, but the disclosure of his identity could destroy his non-book career.

The widowed Bel, forced to marry another, hasn’t seen the gentleman in question in ten years. The best of friends in their childhood, they might have become more, but her father forced her to wed another. Perhaps they’ll pick up where they left off.

But not if a scheming temptress who has her eye on Lord Lovely has her way. And not if a mysterious, unknown nobleman puts an end to both the author and the man.

Sweet Regency historical fiction with romantic comedy and mystery. 119,000 words.

EXCERPT:

Wheels scraped on the street, the telltale sound of a carriage slowing and then stopping.
Heart pounding, she dashed to the window once more, but the dark shrouded everything except the hackney lamps and the movement of people and horses. Then the doorknocker rapped, and the front door scraped open. Sara’s lilt and her husband’s lower tones drifted up the stairway, along with an unfamiliar baritone rumble.
Footsteps trod on the steps and finally reached the entrance. Rogers stepped inside. “Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Barnett, and Mr. William Borland.”
Sara, lovely in a jonquil gown that set off her fair hair, rushed in and hugged her. “Bel, we are so happy to see you.” She pulled forward the tall, dark-haired man beside her. “You know my husband, Edgar.”
“Your servant, your ladyship.” Mr. Barnett bowed and kissed her hand.
They matched well, her husband’s dark good looks the perfect foil for Sara’s blonde beauty. “Please, since you are Sara’s husband, call me Bel.”
“If you will call me Edgar.” He stepped away.
And there, framed in the doorway, he stood.
Bel’s breath stuttered.
Broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, this tall, long-legged man bore scant resemblance to the lanky youth, all elbows and knees, of her memory. The planes of his face had sharpened, a more chiseled, mature version of the good-looking boy’s visage. His blond hair, unstylishly long and tied back with a ribbon, still shone as bright as the sun, although his lashes and eyebrows had darkened to a sootier shade.
But his eyes were the same—a deep, liquid blue so intense, his gaze glued her in place.
His blue frock coat, frayed at the cuffs, had greyed with age, and his coat, breeches, and buckled shoes were as outmoded as her dress.
Not that it signified. He was splendid.
She held out a hand that trembled slightly. Would he still be angry after their last day together? Please not. “I am so glad to see you.”


Available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, Kobo, Inktera and other retailers:


 

SALE ON GOOSED! OR A FOWL CHRISTMAS ON SMASHWORDS!

Lord Lovely may be read as a standalone, but if you're like me and dislike coming in on the middle of a series, I'm offering Goosed! or A Fowl Christmas, Book 1 of The Feather Fables at 25% off (that's $3.74) on Smashwords only with coupon code VB24U

Coupon expires December 14, 2016. All formats are available on Smashwords.

Goosed! or A Fowl Christmas on Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/494775



Thank you all and Merry Christmas,
Linda Banche






Monday, 31 October 2016

NEW BOOK BY KAYE MANRO






All Hallows Ever ~ Premise
by
Kaye Manro


Boston, October 1966

When musician Nick Zelmenis finds out his band must dress in costume to perform at the All Hallows Eve music gig he is in a reluctant quandary over what to wear. His lover ballet dancer Krista McBaine and a few good friends come up with a groovy Sci-Fi costume idea for the band’s big night. But a devastating incident occurs just before the show and everything falls apart. Nick must pull out all the stops and call upon his innate psychic abilities. He knows beyond doubt if he can’t figure it out fast something tragic is going to happen to the one he loves. 

Available on Amazon Kindle now!






kayemanro.com

© copyright Kaye Manro 2016