Woot! It's my first anniversary as a published author!
*Throws confetti and pours champagne*
One year ago
Her Devoted Vampire erupted on the publishing scene and has thrilled readers ever since. It's the introduction to my whole world of vampires, werewolves, dragons, goblins, and the
Morukai, who you'll meet soon. ;)
I wrote it on a dare. My husband, Mr. SM, said romance was bunk, so I said I'd try to write one. He has graciously admitted I convinced him it's not bunk. :)
To that end, I'm offering a little excerpt of one of my favorite parts in the story, and a giveaway, since there are always gifts and goodies at anniversary parties. First the excerpt:
Bridget immediately
recognized the handsome man from Snickerdoodles and her heart fluttered with
excitement. He was here in her bedroom. Wait, what was he doing in her bedroom?
Her eyes snapped to the bedspread again. This wasn’t her bedroom!
“Where
am I?” she asked as she struggled to sit up, but aborted the effort when pain
shot through her side.
“Just rest for now. You
aren’t ready yet.” His familiar voice settled some of her uncertainty and
fright.
“Why
do I hurt? What’s wrong with me?”
The pain felt like she’d
literally been hit by a baseball bat beneath her ribs on the left side. What
was wrong with her? She hadn’t felt this bad, even after the British had come
to the farm in her dream. She slid her hand down to test her injury, but she
couldn’t feel anything.
“Do
you remember me, Bridget? I met you at Snickerdoodles.”
Oh,
she remembered, all right. She remembered the scent of his skin and the warmth
of his body beside her. At least, she thought she did. He’d wrapped his cloak
around her, hadn’t he?
She
closed her eyes and shook her head to clear the cobwebs of mixed memories.
“I
returned your book and tried to hail a cab for you. Do you remember that?”
No.
Wait. Yes, she remembered the terrible kidnapping scene in the book and how
she’d left it on the table in the coffee shop. Her memories played out in a
reel until it ended with red eyes and searing pain.
Bridget’s
eyes flew open and she stared at her companion with dawning unease. His
expression filled with concern and compassion, his eyes a deep chocolate brown.
No sign of red anywhere. They weren’t even bloodshot.
“You’re
Fredrick MacGregor.”
“That’s
right.” A smile flitted over his lips.
“And
you smell like spiced apples and vanilla.”
His
black eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, one tendril falling across an
eye. It looked soft and smooth and she wanted to push it behind his ear for
him, but his smug look banished any tender feelings that might have developed.
“You
were stabbed in the side and I brought you to my home here in Gloucester to
take care of you.”
Stabbed?
She’d been stabbed? Gasping, she
wrenched the bedclothes away from her body and scanned the skin of her belly.
The bruised pain she felt directed her eyes to her left side but there was
nothing there, not even discoloration. If she’d been stabbed, where was the
scar, the scab?
Is he just teasing me? What kind of a jerk does that? Then the rest
of his words sank in.
“Gloucester?”
“Yes.
It was the safest place I could think to take you.”
Bridget
narrowed her eyes as she raised her gaze to meet his again, her hands still
holding the bedclothes up.
Safe for whom, you chocolate-eyed kidnapper?
“Normally you take
injured people, like those with stab wounds, to the hospital. Or at least call
the paramedics.” What was she doing in Gloucester in a richly decorated
bedroom? Was it his bedroom?
There are worse places to be, a traitorous voice remarked.
“There was no time and I
knew I could care for you as well or better than any hospital,” Fredrick
replied to her unasked questions.
Riiiiggghhhtt, that’s what all the sociopaths say to their victims.
“I
have to go,” she croaked out as she tried to sit up again. She’d make it home
come hell or high water. Goosebumps zinged along her leg when it appeared out
of the covers.
“Whoa!” She jerked her
legs back under the bedclothes and stared incredulously at the man sitting next
to her on the bed. “Where are my clothes?”
“I
haven’t had time to get any from your apartment,” he explained, his eyes never
dropping from hers. “I’ll send someone presently.”
She
raised her eyebrows. “Presently? Who uses words like ‘presently’? And how do
you know where I live–” She groaned, frowning. “You looked in my wallet from my
coat.”
“That
seemed to be the most logical place to look for your name and home address.”
“That’s
just great. A perfect ending to a perfect day,” she growled, slumping back in
the bed. “Stabbed, kidnapped, and naked in a stranger’s bed. It just doesn’t
get much worse.”
“Except,
perhaps, being kidnapped by a vampire with a house full of werewolves,” he
suggested, a half-smile curling his kissable lips.
She
snorted. “Thank God there’s no such thing as vampires or werewolves.”
He
stilled as if the life within him bled away, leaving nothing but a quiet, waxen
shell, and his face lost the humor in it. Unease crept through her as she
stared hard at him, clutching the covers so tightly her knuckles turned white.
The scent of spiced apples shifted to a dirt smell, like moist earth or the
desert after the rain, and her stomach cramped with visceral fear.
Oh, poor Bridget. She has no idea what world she's stumbled across. So now it's time for goodies. I'm offering a
Print copy of Her Devoted Vampire and an e-copy of Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack to two lucky commenters who fill out the rafflecopter below and leave me a comment with your email address or Twitter handle. The giveaway will run from Feb. 22 2013 until midnight Thursday, Feb. 28th 2013. It is open internationally, but you must be 18 years or older to win and please void where prohibited.
Don't forget to tweet and share the giveaway! Let's celebrate the stories getting out there and more to come - one at the end of March and another in May! Woot. :D Thanks for visiting and happy reading. :)
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