1.I released “Christmas At Arundale Hall” on Monday.
2. I successfully uploaded my new book up to Amazon, AllRomance, Smashwords and Barnes and Noble
3. My new boss turned out to be a nice guy
4. I got an AWESOME review at The Romance Reviews for “Temptation to Submit”
5. Words were written on “Desire To Submit” which is Gina’s story.
6. My husband got a new truck
7. And it cost us much less than we thought.
8. I successfully sent out a newsletter!
This was a big deal, believe me. LOL!
9. I found out that I’m getting a raise
10. I attended my kid’s Teacher Conferences and all is well so far
11. I purchased Christmas Ebooks.
T. Sue Versteeg’s “Baby It’s Cold Outside” (box set) Sam Crescent’s “Blue Mountain”, Emily Ryan Davis’s “Let It Snow” so far.
12. I finally got the “Invitation To Eden” series
13. Did I mention my new release?
Here’s an Excerpt from “Christmas At Arundale Hall”
“Call the coven. Don’t do this alone,” he said urgently. Sweet Edward. He could not know the darkness they faced.
“She is one of us, Edward. The coven cannot be called against one of their own.” She met his frustrated glare. “Do you remember how Sarah believed she had to die to save those who came after her?”
Edward nodded and frowned.
Chantal stared back at the fire, the dancing flames reminding her of Wisteria’s eyes as she tried to kill Sarah and Perry. Hatred. Hurt. There was not much difference between them in the end. “Blood is always the key.” She glanced at him and noted the smooth expression on his face. He knew it was true. Hadn’t he begged her to do the one thing that would bind him to her forever? Hadn’t she refused because that kind of bond frightened her to death? “The blood Wisteria used to create the spell that made the Wolves of Arundale bound her line to theirs. I lied to Madeline. The warding spell I taught her is a more benign version than the one the Dea Matre used to protect my ancestor. The Dea Matre bled her own heart to protect Alanna, her daughter of choice. I can do no less.”
“There must be another way,” Edward stated. “The scrolls—”
“I have studied the scrolls in Bayeux, Edward. This is the only way to protect my bloodline from her.” She carefully placed the poker back against the fireplace and brushed her hands clean of any soot before she turned to face Edward. “I had doubts, but this morning’s breakfast made them disappear.”
Edward eased away from her sleeping daughter and stepped toward her. “Why? Tell me why you choose to risk your life, to leave your daughter.” A muscle moved in his jaw before he spoke again. “To leave me.”
“They are your family. The Earl of Arundale, Elizabeth, Perry, Sarah, little Gerry. They are your kin. They would risk everything for you. I can do no less.” She stopped short of saying the irrevocable words that were on the tip of her tongue. She loved him, but she would not burden him with that knowledge lest she did not return.
She noted his anger, his frustration with her. He didn’t understand. Possibly he never would. He tightened his lips. “Perhaps this is the easy way for you. It is easier than the responsibility of a daughter and a lover.”
That was it. He had gone too far. “This is not some noble self-sacrifice I’m performing, Mr. Jaimison,” she snapped. “Lady Marion North is a dangerous, powerful person who will stop at nothing to kill my daughter and end my line. Shall I stand idly by while she manipulates and controls those around her to do her bidding?” She flicked the skirt of her dress and stepped closer until she was nose to nose with Edward. “If I can end it, stop her from killing anyone else—like Marcus’s lover, or Isabella—shouldn’t I do it? What would you do?”
“I would let those who love me, help me.” He ground out the words through clenched teeth.
“You lie.” She attempted to jerk away from him and he gripped her arm. Their gazes clashed and she tipped her chin higher.
“Damn you,” he muttered. “Why can’t you see that I—”
She couldn’t let him finish. A declaration of any kind would weaken her resolve until she melted in the warmth of his love and to hell with everything else. To stop his words, she leaned up and pressed her mouth to his.
For a moment he froze, his stillness only spurring her to wrap her arms around his neck and plunge her fingers into his hair. Closer. More.
When he relented, he overwhelmed her, his arms banded around her, his mouth plundering hers with the heat of a thousand suns. She burned for him. His tongue swept inside and she moaned from the feel of him.
Too soon, he came back to his senses and broke away from her, his labored breathing both a boon and a curse as he distanced himself from her. He said no words, but bowed abruptly and left the room.
The sun made a brief appearance through the stormy clouds and beamed through the window. But Chantal did not feel its warmth. She stared at her child and wished things could be different.