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Category: Cover Stuff

Cover Reveal & Preorder-The King's Outlaw

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Gorgeous, right??

Preorder now!

Amazon | iBooks

In THE KING’S OUTLAW, get ready for a sexy, thrilling ride through Crusades-era Europe! 

Travel to medieval France & England and get a taste of the Holy Lands with King Richard the Lionheart.   Visit a sea town shrouded in darkness and corruption, sneak into hidden caves,  sail on ships, and get snowbound in a firelit cottage with no one but a dangerous outlaw and the way he’s looking at you, firelight glinting in his eye… (yes, there is snowbound-ness!) 

The story originally appeared in the anthology Captured by a Celtic Warrior

It’s expanded for this single title release to show more of the hero & heroine’s journey across England, including scenes from the secret cove that forms the nexus of the Renegades & Outlaws collection.

Here’s an except for you!

♥♥♥

The King’s Outlaw©

…She didn’t know how long she listened, or how long he spoke, in his low, lilting voice, drawing pictures so vivid she could almost feel the Irish sun on her skin, smell the grass under her feet. “…and in Ireland, Maggie,” he said, making her shiver every time he called her that, “you’ve got to take care, for the otherworld is close to hand, fey close, so close that on some nights, you lay and listen to things you know cannot be real, but they are, and then you know the world is far more wide and wonderful than ever the priests did tell.”

They faced each other. His eyes were gleams of fading firelight, hers of distant hope.

“It sounds a most worthy place,” she whispered.

“I never should have left,” he agreed, regret thick in his voice. “But glory beckoned.”

She knew that thick coating in her own throat, all too well. Impulsively, she touched her fingertips to his hand. “That is the way of it, though, for some of us,” she said urgently. “We leave that which we do have, to seek that which we might have. Sometimes, we stumble along the way.”

Tadhg looked down at her hand, her fingertips barely skimming the back of his. Offering comfort, she emanated innocent desire. Her long hair spilled in glorious disarray over her shoulders, and her eyes were bright and full of fire—he greatly approved of fire in a woman, and so infrequently found it—and her lips were far too full to be only three inches away from his own, half parted, breathing on him.

“A besetting sin, then?” he murmured.

“That is it,” she whispered happily.

She smelled like sunshine, and her smile punched a hole through the densest, darkest part of him, the cloud of him, the roiling, rising thunderstorm in his heart. “Lass,” he said in a thick voice, “I swear on my life, I will settle this debt to you.”

She shook her head. “You already have.”

He smiled grimly to himself. She had no idea what he meant. She thought he meant what had already come, and that it was all over now. But it was not over, and to the almost certain damnation of his soul, he was not yet done using her.

A melodic sound penetrated the walls of her shop. Church bells, calling the faithful to midnight mass, as they would every night of these Twelfth Night revelries.

Magdalena jerked a little, yanked out of the fairy-like cloud that had descended over her shop, almost startled to find herself still sitting behind her counter. In every way but the truth, she’d been far, far away, on the green hills of Ireland, with….

She sat up straight. “What is your name?”

He blew out something that sounded like a sigh. “Tadhg Nessan Cenn Fáelad O’Malley.”

The words tumbled out swiftly, a lyrical and utterly incomprehensible combination of syllables. “My,” she laughed. “It sounds nice and noble.”

“Oh, aye, quite. Nessan means stoat.”

She laughed—she’d laughed more with this man in a half-day of trials and tribulations than she had in a twelve-month of calm, proper living. Or a hundred-month of it.

“You can call me Tadhg,” he said, looking at her mouth.

Tayg,” she whispered, sounding it out. “What does it mean?”

“Poet.”

“And are you one?”

“I’m thinking of one just now.” He looked from her lips to her eyes. “’Tis bawdy.”

A long, wide ribbon of excitement unfurled through her as she tipped her head back and laughed again. He watched her appreciatively.

The bells finished their tolling.

“You should go.” She forced herself off the crate, away from the ribbons of excitement and laughter. “There is only one guard at the gate at this hour, Gustave, and he is quite amenable to negotiation.”

“So now you know the gate guards, too?” he grumbled as he got to his feet.

She pushed gently on his shoulder. “Go.”

Oh, how she did not want him to go.

He did not go. For a long minute he looked down at the ground, and when he lifted his head, there was something in his eye that made her breath slow down and her heart speed up.

“Do you need anything?” she said softly. “Food?”

He shook his head.

“Oh, your money! That you gave me on the quay.” She started to turn to where she’d hidden it, in a pouch under the counter.

He put a hand on her arm, stilling her. “Keep it.”

“But—”

“Keep it.”

His fingers were warm bands encircling her upper arm. She looked into his eyes and felt oddly, shockingly bereft. “Oh, I wish—”

She cut the words short before they did something dangerous, like instill hope, in however small a degree.

He lifted a hand to her cheek, brushed a bent knuckle across it. “No, you don’t,” he murmured. “You do not wish for that.”

“Yes, I do.”

Faintly he smiled, but his voice was hard. “Lass, you do not want what I have.” As if to prove it, he overturned his hand and dragged a calloused thumb roughly across her bottom lip.

All the breath came out of her in a hot rush. “Oh.”

It was a gasp of arousal, of desire and pent-up wanting, as far as she could retrieve the memory from the dusty cabinet of her mind. It made her want to weep for the lost memory of it.

He watched her with dark, unreadable eyes, then slid his thumb back again, a little harder, rolling her lip down the slightest bit. She tipped her head back and let her mouth part under the rough caress.

“That is a mistake,” he ground out. “You do not realize….” He shook his head once. “How much I want you.”

She stepped to him, pressed her breasts up to him. His thighs were hard against the front of hers, the hilts of his weapons bumped against her hips and belly, and dark, dangerous desire burned in his eyes. She wanted all of it. All of him.

“Show me.” She slid her arms around his neck. “For I have been dying to be wanted the way you do.”

♥♥♥

Preorder now!

Amazon | iBooks


Let me know what you think of the cover!!

Scorching hot, epic, lush historical romances, the books in the R&O collection feature heroes & heroines who visit the same secret cove, Renegades Cove. You’ll experience all eras of the middle ages in these sweeping stories of hard-willed alpha heroes and fiery, determined women who use the cove to escape villains, plot perilous missions, and of course, fall in love.

Get ready for these bad boy medieval warriors and their fiery, strong heroines!

Claiming Her out in paperback!

The paperback version of

Claiming Her is ready for you! 

If you like reading paperback books, or just like to have them on the shelves to petting purposes, just time for the holidays…the paperback version of Claiming Her is out!

And it’s so-o-o-o- pretty. 

See the pretty??

 

Cream paper, gorgeous font, the Renegades & Outlaws logos used for chapter breaks and scene breaks…so, so pretty. You’re going to want a copy!  Maybe a perfect holiday gift for you or another historical romance-loving buddy??

The book is long–108K words of story + Author’s Notes (and it was supposed to be a novella!) but it’s still easy to hold, easy to read, and did I mention gorgeous??

The original cover shoot for the books, with those gorgeous tats on the was done by Jenn LeBlanc. One of her models spraypainted another model for the shoot, using an example I provided of the look of the tattoos.  Jenn also did the orignal cover.

Jaycee De Lorenzo of Sweet n’ Spicy Designs did the full print version of the cover, and it’s gorgeous. Did I already mention that?

Fun fact: The back cover image, underlying the text, features the ruins of Dunluce castle in Ireland, which is how I picture Rardove.  Like this:

 

The interior of the book, with the fonts & the logos ued as chapter breaks, etc was done by Amy Atwell, who owns Author EMS.  She had her work cut out for her, because this is a BIG book: 108K words, plus additional Author’s Notes. I told her I wanted it to be affordable (i.e. not too many oages) and readable, and…you know the drill, gorgeous.  She did it!!  So, so pretty.

Look at some of the pretty:

 

The print version is slightly expanded from the original ebook version.  There were a couple scenes that were nagging at me, scenes I knew needed to be fleshed out more, and this was the time to do it.

I’ve updated the book version as well!  If you’ve already purchased the ebook, you can easily get this updated file.  Just go into your digital ebook dashboard (whether that’s at Amazon, or BN, or iTunes, or Kobo) and have the updated version delivered to you.  If you have any questions, contact their customer support and tell them you know there’s an updated file for Claiming Her, and you’d like it delivered to your device.

I hope you love!!

You can buy the paperback at

Amazon or direct from Createspace.

 

And if you prefer the digital book, here are your links!

Amazon | iTunes | GooglePlay | Nook | Kobo

 

Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and heartfelt Joy to us all!!

 

 

 

 

 

Help An Author Out...Plus a Kiss

Okay, girls, I’m gonna need a cover for the upcoming release of THE KING’S OUTLAW. Who wants to help??

 THE KING’S OUTLAW originally appeared in the anthology Captured by a Celtic Warrior.  

← Here’s the cover from the antho. ←

It’s HOT, and will be revised for this standalone release with some additional scenes of hotness and adventure, to make it worth your while.  

If you enjoy perusing images of hot guys & sexy clinch embraces, using your design eye &/or readerly “Oh, yeah, I’d buy that guy,” sensibilities, this is totally for you!

Just post any link(s) to image(s) you think are worthy of consideration in the comments. Nothing’s off limits, and everyone’s welcome! 

My only requirements are that it screams “medieval/knight” and “drop-to-your-knees sexy.” 

Feel free to share this far & wide with your romance reading buddies!  Got a photographer friend with warrior-esque shots in their portfolio? Pimp ’em like a pimp!

If we pick the image you suggest, you AND ANY 2 FRIENDS YOU WANT get a copy of the ebook!! Because this is all about helping each other out.

Tips: If you don’t know much about searching for images…. Stock photo sites are usually the best places, like istockphoto, shutterstock, bigstock, fotolia, 123rf.com or dreamstime (all followed by .com) You can enter various search terms. Different sites allow different amounts of control over the parameters (such as controlling for the gender of models, or number of models, etc). Play around, and have fun!

Here’s an excerpt from the first kiss of THE KING’S OUTLAW. One of my favorite kinds: the ruse kiss!

***

…There was nothing for it; he made his decision in a heartbeat.  

Sliding his hands up her arms, he spun her and almost flung her up against the side of the nearest building, then reached up and tore off her headdress.

“Good Heaven’s,” she cried, her hands flying up to capture the silky veil, but he already had it off and was tugging off her distinctive cloak next.

“Mon Dieu,” she gasped, grappling for the cloak, but he fisted it and the veil together in his hand, down by his hip, then stretched out an arm and planted his palm on the wall, blocking her face from the visitors now hurrying down the quay.

“Kiss me,” he ordered.

Her pale face tilted up, full of shock and confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me, then run.”

“What?”

“If you kiss me, you’re a whore. If you stand there staring, you’re a merchant with a pouch of stolen seals in her hand.”

Magdalena looked down at the pouch, then up at him, into his beautiful, no-doubt criminal, eyes. Then she pushed on her toes and kissed him.

She could have done nothing more ill-advised.

She had barely touched her lips to his when he descended, his mouth hard and slanting. He plowed her open with teeth and tongue, exploring the depths of her wet mouth with sinful abandon.  There was no prelude, no warning, no kindness or care, no quarter given. She was a whore and he was having her.

He played the ruse exceptionally well.

Dizziness and heat swooped in for her like hunting birds, dispelling sense and reason and anything else that might have been of use to her at the moment. She could do nothing but cling to him, her hands around his neck, her head forced back, her spine cupped, her body…thrilling.

Madness. Madness, all.

The hand not holding her cloak and wimple closed around her hip and began to tug up her skirts. She made a feeble attempt to stop him, but his grip grew fierce, and he yanked on the gown, dragged it up the side of her leg until she felt cool air on her shin and calf.

Her head spun as if she’d been twirled like a top. Picked up by a bird and sent flying.

Her knees grew weak, but she did not break the kiss. She could not. He’d become a field of energy, the way a metal filing is pulled toward iron, or how one drop of water clings to another. She was affixed to his kiss, to his chest, which she’d somehow pressed up against, to his shoulders, which she’d somehow wrapped her arms around, to his tongue, which was tangled with hers, his hot male breath, his cunning male hand, his hard knee now making all manner of incursions between her thighs, and she, she, reveling in it.

This could not end well.

***

Or COULD  IT????

Have fun out there!