Most of the time, when I write, the story is completely fictional. Protecting Zarifah, my newest book, is different. I am the founder of Shimmy Mob Memphis. Founded in 2011, by Francesca Sabeya Anastasi, Shimmy Mob is an International organization with chapters all over the world. We dance each year on international belly dance day and raise funds for our local domestic abuse shelters and we raise awareness. We dance to the same song, doing the same choreography and wearing the same t-shirts.

Next year will be the tenth year for Shimmy Mob. The Memphis chapter has raised over ten thousand dollars for the shelter through the years. I am proud of my dance sisters who stepped up to help. Together we are stronger. www.shimmymob.com

People often asked me why I signed the city up when I had retired from my troupe and was no longer dancing. I was focused on my first book out in print, and was busy going to book signings with little time to spare. I made time. No one had signed the city up. The clock was ticking. Why did I sign up?

I usually have a four-word answer to that question. Babies with broken bones. Domestic abuse hits the youngest child, to the oldest person. Substitute women for babies or elderly for babies in that four word sentence. Whoever is the victim, domestic violence is wrong. And it needs to stop. I do not want to live in a world where babies have broken bones because a malicious adult injured them or where a caretaker breaks an elderly person. That’s simply not acceptable to me. The work I’ve done with Shimmy Mob is one small way I could help.

That first year we faced a lot of challenges. In 2011 Memphis had tornados, the river rising and flooding. We had to find a place to dance and it was hard. We thought we had a place but then they backed out. No one wanted to let us dance because a Shimmy Mob/flash mob was brand new and other flash mobs had sometimes led to violence. I often thought of the irony as I searched for a place to dance. We were trying to stop domestic violence and couldn’t find a place to dance because others had been violent.

Forty-five dancers signed up from various dance groups in Memphis along with a few dancers from out of town. We started rehearsals but still had nowhere to dance. Last minute permission came from Center City Commission through Dawn Vinson, who would be dancing with us. We would dance downtown outdoors on the trolley line.

Only a fraction of our dancers made it out to dance because of the storms. We had tornados moving in. I could have called it, but staying in touch with the folks putting on Memphis in May concerts down by the river, I decided not to until they did. Bands playing on a metal stage would be called off if it became too dangerous. My oldest son was working the event. He does Tech Theater and works the lights and sound. We were both tuned in the weather.

So, we danced. We danced in between tornado sirens and watching for tornados, but we got the job done and we raised a thousand dollars that first year even though we received no local news coverage for our event. They were too busy covering the storms.

The photographer for the Commercial Appeal called me as we were driving away. He had just missed us. I thought we had been a small voice that few heard, but even a small voice can help. Even a small voice can speak up. That too is an important part of fighting domestic violence and an important example to set. Later, Shimmy Mob International honored us for our efforts.

Honoring Shimmy Mob Memphis in 2011

Shimmy Mob Memphis continued to dance each year. Our first year the funds went directly to the YWCA shelter. I took toiletries and diapers we’d collected to the shelter. There are so many ways to help. At the time it was the only shelter in the tri-state area – not enough for a metropolitan area the size of Memphis. In later years we donated to The Family Safety Center, the first place domestic violence victims can go locally. It is a wonderful place and offers many services.

Things often come full circle in my life. Now I’m retired from team leading, and instead, I’m writing about Shimmy Mob to shine a light and spread awareness.

Zarifah, my heroine in Protecting Zarifah is as assistant team leader in the first Shimmy Mob event. It is 2011 and they will have to take all the steps to put an event on. First, sign up the city. Second, get the word out to dancers and encourage them to sign up. Third, get the music and choreography and learn it. Fourth, find a place to dance. Fifth, set up donations. Sixth, promote the event. Then dance on Shimmy Mob day. Afterward, turn in money to the shelter. Send video and pics to International Shimmy Mob and share on social media.

Readers will get a glimpse into the world of a real belly dancer, while also reading about a fictional one that was engaged to the wrong man. When he is arrested for domestic abuse, she is done with him and determined that he will never touch her again. She files a restraining order against him.

Cutter, her new Navy SEAL boyfriend, will be there to protect her if her ex boyfriend comes around again and when she dances for Shimmy Mob, his protecting services are needed.

Available on Amazon for KU
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07TKHM4FC/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0

And in print

For more about Debra visit: www.debraparmley.com

I’m everywhere on social media.
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Authors love to put a character through trial and tribulations and push their limits. Delilah’s really good at it, isn’t she? It’s fun reading about people forced to grow and change. But doing it ourselves can be pretty painful, unless we find the right challenge to encourage the proper kind of growth. I found the right one for me—I auditioned for my local community theater, the Hamilton Players production of Disaster! A 70s Disaster Movie… Musical!

I sing regularly in my church choir, but I haven’t acted or danced since my community college days in the early 80’s, and I wasn’t particularly great then. When I heard about this particular musical, I thought it was the perfect vehicle to push a few of my limits. The music is familiar—it’s all 70’s hits—and I wasn’t trying for a lead role, just a position in the ensemble.

The audition itself was rather nerve-wracking. The singing was no problem, and the light improvisation wasn’t too bad, but the dancing? Yikes. Just the few steps we learned that night were really hard for me. I’m physically fit for my age, but I’m pretty klutzy, and hip swings and pelvic thrusts aren’t part of my normal workout routine! So, I did my best and laughed off my flubs. When they asked us for our best 70’s free dance, I decided to dance like I just didn’t care and went full-on Saturday Night Fever. Pretty sure I looked ridiculous, but hey, at least I gave it my best shot.

The cast list went up just two days later and to my great shock, I was on it as part of the ensemble. We started rehearsals the next week, getting scripts and doing a full read-through. During the read-through, I was assigned the part of Victim 1—by all the suns, I have lines!—and eventually, I ended up in a ‘named’ part as The Blind Woman. We started on choreography that week as well. Initially, I was disappointed to not be in all of the ensemble pieces, but it wasn’t long before I was grateful. Dancing is a huge challenge for me, especially synchronized dancing.

Not only was I working hard at every rehearsal—four nights a week plus Sunday afternoons—but doing extra dance practices and an hour or so at home most days. Learning even the simplest steps was hard and every muscle surrounding my hips was screaming at me for a couple of weeks. But I persevered and while I’ll never be a natural or great dancer, I got good enough to not totally disgrace our lovely choreographers, Michelle Post and Natalie Naidl.

The singing, speaking and blocking (how you move on the stage while speaking) was easy in comparison. Our director, Denise Rose, and musical director, Emily Athman, handed out critiques, praise and a few blunt expressions of disappointment, pushing all of us to our best performances. I learned a lot from both of them and really enjoyed the whole process, even when it was slightly painful for me personally.

After our final week of dress rehearsals, I was too tired to be terribly nervous before the first performance. Once the performances started, I had so much fun! Sure, there were a few blunders, forgotten lines and missed entrances, but overall, it was smooth and over too quickly. By the second week, we were firmly in the groove, a tight-knit team. We had a great time on stage and off. Those of us with minor roles had a backstage ‘dance party’ during one of the big solo numbers on stage. One of the lead players wrote a lip-synching script for all of us to a medley of ABBA songs which she filmed before performances. Many nights the cast went out after the performance too. I was thrilled, excited and happy to be a part of the amazing whole.

After nine performances, we took our final bows with standing ovations and calls for extending the run. After our final show, we broke down the set and had a cast party. It was definitely a bittersweet day. I’m happy to have all the time back, but I’m really sad I won’t be hanging out with all these fantastic people every day.

Overall, it was a great way to push my limits a little and force a little growth. I highly recommend community theater to anyone. If you’re not into performing, there are many ways to contribute: on house staff, fund-raising, set building and technical crew are just a few. Check out your local theater!

I’ll definitely try out for another show, but probably not for a while—I have another book to write! And speaking of, I’ve just released my fifth in the Folding Space Series, Lightwave: Circini Search. If you like adventure and battles in space with a little romance, like Firefly or Star Wars, I think you’ll like my books.

If you sign up for my newsletter on amscottwrites.com, you’ll get a free novella, Lightwave: Nexus Station. Check it out! Have a wonderful summer and check back with the talented and generous Delilah Devlin daily!

Hello Delilah! I’m delighted to be on your blog today! I’m sharing some insight on my hero from Destiny of a Warrior. In addition, I’m hosting a giveaway. Readers, don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter at the bottom of this post for a chance to win a fabulous grand prize package!

In order to understand this great warrior, Aidan Kerrigan, let me tell you about the world of the Fae…

I’ve always been drawn to the ancient Celtic tales of mythology—from Cuchulainn and the Red Branch, to the epic sagas about the invasions of Ireland. I blame in on my heritage. The blood of my ancestors flows heavily within me. They speak to me constantly. So it only made sense that I would develop and expand the world of the Fenian Fae Warriors. Theirs was a world rich in legends, colors, and senses.

I’ve based my own fictional account on the legend of the Tuatha Dé Danann—one of the invasions of Ireland. They were known as the Shining Ones or the Fae. The Tuatha Dé Danann was defeated in two battles by the Milesians, whom historians and scholars alike agree were probably the first Gaels in Ireland. It was agreed that the new invaders (Milesians) and the Tuatha Dé Danann would each rule half of Ireland. Therefore, it was that Amergin of the Milesians chose that half of Ireland which lay above ground, leaving the Tuatha Dé Danann to retreat below. They were led underground by Manannán mac Lir, God of the Sea, who shielded them with an enchanted mist from mortal eyes. As time passed, they became known as the Sidhe (Shee), or Ireland’s faery folk.

The great Aidan Kerrigan was a tale I feared to write. When he first appeared in the story, Dragon Knight’s Medallion, Order of the Dragon Knights, Book 2, I panicked. I did not know he was a Fenian Warrior until he walked through the crowd of people at the airport to greet his daughter, Aileen. His presence loomed mighty and grew with the previous stories in the Legends of the Fenian Warriors. Regardless, I knew then that his and Rose’s love story had to be told.

With each Fenian Warrior’s story, I shared a layer about this Fae. Little did I know when I penned Aidan’s first line of dialogue that he was the leader of the Fenian Warriors, came from royalty, and his sister was Queen of the Fae realm. He chose not to reveal any of this to me. And this is why I became terrified. What more could he share?

Well, dear readers, Aidan made it simple. He told me to write a love story, stating, “For you see, love is greater than all the power attained in the world—be it human or Fae.”

Therefore, I took you back in time to when Aidan was the leader of the Brotherhood. To when this great warrior had no blemish to stain his life and love tossed his world upside down, altering everything he knew.

And the lovely Rose MacLaren was a perfect match. As he professed to her, “I saw beauty inside the depth of your soul. Your intelligence would rival any Fae in the herbal gardens, and you possess a wisdom that sparks from a desire to learn more. You challenge me.”

 I hope you’ve enjoyed a glimpse behind the scenes of this powerful love story. Here is a piece of music that helped to inspire my writing for this couple:

CELTIC GATE – INTO A MAGICAL FOREST.
Youtube:  https://youtu.be/GlPF-CSCf2o

Destiny of a Warrior
Legends of the Fenian Warriors, Book 4

His accolades were many. His loyalty to the Fae, unwavering.
Until love tempted him to discard duty and claim what was forbidden.

“You met him in the Order of the Dragon Knights. Now, journey to the realm of the Fae and witness their greatest legend!”

As leader of the Fenian Warriors, Aidan Kerrigan’s accolades are many and his loyalty to the Fae unwavering. When an unexpected mission sends him to the human world and a chance encounter with Rose MacLaren, he’s tempted for the first time in his existence to discard duty and claim what is forbidden.

Rose MacLaren, a Society of the Thistle member, yearns to expand her botanical knowledge with her love of history. After her rescue by a handsome stranger, she is compelled to look beyond what her rational mind comprehends and unravel the secret of the standing stones, as well as the man who captivates her.

In a mystical world ruled by ancient laws and edicts, can a fierce warrior choose a path destined for love? And will a woman honoring the ways of the land believe in a myth only spoken of in legends? If they do, will their love be enough to defy death’s punishment?

Excerpt

A chill of foreboding swept through him. In her short time of being among these standing stones, she’d obtained bits of knowledge no one else had come upon. “Continue,” he encouraged softly.

Hugging her notebook against her chest, she went to the tallest stone in the center. “These symbols and images on the back mirror the three centered on the slab. In addition, they are all the same as the other site outside of Glasgow.”

“They’re merely circles,” he admitted, keeping his voice steady. “The Celtic triskele symbol also decorates many other stone structures.”

Her brow furrowed in obvious concentration as she disappeared around the back of the stone.

Tossing the pinecone aside, Aidan stood. His instincts screamed at him to do something to prevent her from further inspecting the stone. Only he knew the significance. And he now understood why he was sent here. In all his travels, not one human had documented his time among them. Or so he believed. Upon his arrival, he longed to pulverize the stones to shards of dust after viewing the back. The altar stone had remained buried under moss, dirt, and ivy. The same was true with the tallest stone at its base.

He fought against extending his hand outward and sinking the area a thousand feet underground. Making quick strides to Rose, he came to an abrupt halt. Her face was ashen as she knelt behind the stone, sketching an entire scene on her notepad. One side mirrored the stones, but on the opposite page, her hand drew an epic vista.

The blood pounded inside his head, and he dared to draw in a breath. With each stroke of her hand, an image came to life and his greatest fear unfolded. Slowly, Aidan lifted his hand. The power built and traveled down his arm. He had to destroy the picture. Banish the past vision from her mind. Eradicate all knowledge of him. Seal the door to the past from the present.

The truth must never be revealed.

But when Rose lifted her gaze to meet his, Aidan’s heart stopped. For the first time in his life, he was torn between duty and his own personal need.

“I am sorry,” he stated in a strangled voice. 

Buy Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RBQC8VC/
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/destiny-of-a-warrior-mary-morgan/1131596594
AppleBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/destiny-of-a-warrior/id1463476741
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/destiny-of-a-warrior
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Destiny-Warrior-Legends-Fenian-Warriors-ebook/dp/B07RBQC8VC/
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Destiny-Warrior-Legends-Fenian-Warriors-ebook/dp/B07RBQC8VC
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Destiny-Warrior-Legends-Fenian-Warriors-ebook/dp/B07RBQC8VC/
BookStrand: https://www.bookstrand.com/destiny-of-a-warrior
Google Play:https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Mary_Morgan_Destiny_of_a_Warrior

About the Author

Award-winning Celtic paranormal and fantasy romance author, Mary Morgan, resides in Northern California with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return.

 Mary’s passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. Inspired by her love for history and ancient Celtic mythology, her tales are filled with powerful warriors, brave women, magic, and romance. It wasn’t until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling by writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.

If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.

Connect with Mary at these places:
WEBSITE/BLOG:  http://www.marymorganauthor.com
TWITTER:  http://twitter.com/m_morganauthor
FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE: https://www.facebook.com/MaryMorganAuthor/
GOODREADS:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8271002.Mary_Morgan
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE:  http://www.amazon.com/Mary-Morgan/e/B00KPE3NWI/
PINTEREST:  www.pinterest.com/marymorgan50/
INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/marymorgan2/
BOOKBUB: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-morgan
LINKEDIN: https://www.linkedin.com/in/mary-morgan-2634a77a/
BOOKGORILLA: https://www.bookgorilla.com/author/B00KPE3NWI/mary-morgan/kcc

Contest

RAFFLECOPTER: (June 5 – July 15, US and Canada only)
Grand Prize: Signed print copy of DESTINY OF A WARRIOR
Celtic jeweled bookmark
$5 Starbucks Gift Card 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

OR

Direct Link to Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1e1c4f647/?

Guardian Security

Each man has had his own personal experience with danger.
Now they are guardians of your safety and always there when you need them.

Finding Redemption is Book #5

Her son was kidnapped and there is no trace of him anywhere. The one man who can help her is wrapped in his own dark misery. Can she convince him to help?

She shook herself at the sound of Josh’s voice.

Lisa looked at the man across from her. She’d seen him a few times, in very brief situations, but this was the first time she’d had the chance to study him.

At thirty-eight he looked at least ten years older. He had thick black hair peppered with grey, worn long enough that he tied it back with a leather thong. His beard looked more like the result of not shaving rather than a deliberate plan, and dissolution had added extra flesh around the jaw line and pouches under his eyes. His skin was an unhealthy, ruddy color, probably from the amount of alcohol she heard he drank with regularity. Although he carried a few extra pounds, she bet that in his best days, he was lean and mean.

If this were, as the fairy tales said, once upon a time—before Charles had killed any interest she had in men and before Ethan Caine had destroyed himself—she could see herself being drawn to him. Now he just offended her, and she resented any latent spark of attraction he ignited in her.

But then she saw his eyes and something stabbed at her. Although they were alert, studying both the Taylors and his surroundings at the same time, they were a bottomless black filled with so much pain it hurt to look at them. What had this man seen and done that caused that much personal misery? Was this the kind of man she could trust to find her son?

“Lisa?”

She shook herself at the sound of Josh’s voice. “I’m sorry. My mind tends to wander these days.” She pasted what she was sure was a grotesque mockery of a smile on her face. “Than you very much for coming, Mr. Caine.”

“Ethan. Don’t thank me yet.” His voice was deep but not smooth, more like the scraping sound of gravel falling on cement. “Right now we’re just having lunch.”

“That’s true.” She nodded, willing her hands to stop their incessant tremors.

“So, why don’t we order and you can tell me what this little meet and greet is all about.”

Find all Buy links here:
https://desireeholt.com/books/finding-redemption/

In Order:
Book #1 Moving Target
Book #2 Silencing Memories
Book #3 Killing Lies
Book #4 Running Scared
https://desireeholt.com/guardian-security/

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Note from Delilah: We’re having trouble with the link to the newsletter signup, but you can go to Desiree’s website, wait for the pop up, and sign up that way to get your free book!

How can a writer cope when her publisher closes? Over a span of fewer than four years, three long-running publishers have folded under me. Fortunately, I found an excellent new home for one batch of horror, fantasy, and paranormal romance novels (plus my nonfiction monograph Different Blood: The Vampire as Alien) with Writers Exchange E-Publishing. They don’t handle erotic romance, though, so what to do with the stories, novellas, and one erotic paranormal romance novel originally released by Ellora’s Cave? That’s where the Kindle self-publishing program came to the rescue, and I found it surprisingly easy to navigate, even for a non-techie person. I’ve sometimes used the Amazon cover creator and sometimes covers designed for me by a friend, with free stock images.

Publisher closure has at least one advantage to offset the negatives: The opportunity to edit older material to correct small errors, update obsolete references (if desired—in some cases, I’ve thought it better to keep a story set in its original time period), and make any other needed adjustments. For instance, I’m revising my erotic paranormal romances to tone down the level of graphic sexuality from erotic to spicy or steamy. Also, I’m deleting words that used to be labeled “unprintable” (in my youth, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth), many of which I didn’t care for anyway, but the publisher assured me readers of erotic romance expected them. Addressing a different type of issue, I realized that the portrayal of a walk-on character in one of my early vampire novels was rather cringe-worthy, and I was thankful for the chance to fix the problem. A scene in another vampire novel contained elements that might have seemed physically implausible, which I tweaked in accordance with research I’ve done since the original writing.

In addition to publishers going out of business, I’ve been hit by online magazines shutting down and anthologies going out of print, venues where I’d expected my works—given the long life of electronic media—to remain available into the indefinite future. So I’ve compiled two collections of my stories from the webzines Sorcerous Signals and Lorelei Signal and the Marion Zimmer Bradley estate’s “Sword and Sorceress” anthologies.

Harvest of Magic:
http://www.tinyurl.com/HarvestofMagic

Perilous Magic:
http://www.tinyurl.com/PerilousMagic

Wanting to present those two volumes as sort of companion books, I used the same Amazon stock cover image for both.

Another thing I’m free to do with stories and novellas now under my control is to combine related or similar works into themed collections. For example, Vampire Heat bundles two novellas in my “Vanishing Breed” vampire series that focus on characters from the novels Dark Changeling and Child of Twilight—although these novellas can easily be read on their own with no knowledge of the novels—along with a third, stand-alone story in the same universe.

http://www.tinyurl.com/VampireHeat

Earlier this year, in a completely unexpected move, the publisher of my first vampire novel, Dark Changeling, and its direct sequel, Child of Twilight (which had taken over the books from their original publisher, Hard Shell Word Factory), announced its closing. After light editing to correct some flaws in those older books, I combined them in a two-novel omnibus called Twilight’s Changelings:

http://www.tinyurl.com/TwilightsChangelings

My one full-length erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave, Love Unleashed, was a paranormal novel about a man cursed into the shape of a Saint Bernard, aside from a few hours in human form each night. I toned down the explicitness of the sex scenes a bit but otherwise left the book substantially the same. It was published recently enough that the technology mentioned in the story wasn’t blatantly outdated. I enjoyed being able to include a new cover, because I wasn’t really satisfied with the original one. My husband and I have owned several Saint Bernards, and the dog the artist chose for the EC cover wasn’t a particularly good-looking specimen of the breed. I like the image on the current cover much better. Also, I changed the title. It’s mind-boggling how many books listed on Amazon have the title Love Unleashed! My novel is now called Enchantment Unleashed, which, as far as I could discover, is unique.

http://www.tinyurl.com/EnchantmentUnleashed

My next self-publishing Kindle project will be a themed collection of former Ellora’s Cave novellas, all featuring heroes who are shapeshifters or otherwise a blend of animal and human. Since “Beauty and the Beast” is my favorite fairy tale, and a couple of those stories actually follow the plot pattern of that tale, I plan to title the compilation Beasts and Their Beauties.

Although losing a publisher is often a severe blow, preparing older works for re-release can actually be rather fun.

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter’s Crypt: http://www.margaretlcarter.com

All over the U.S. we will be enjoying various kinds of fireworks displays on July 4^th.

Fireworks were not unknown during the Georgian/Regency eras, and were used for grand effect in public celebrations in London.

Green Park was readied for a grand fireworks display in 1763 to celebrate the Treaty of Paris, which ended the French and Indian War in North America. Green Park was also used for a national park in 1746 to celebrate the end of the War of Hanoverian. The royal family arranged a great fireworks display and commissioned the composer, Handel, to write music for the Royal Fireworks. A vast Temple of Peace was built in the park to store the fireworks. But early on a stray rocket hit the temple. Three people died and 10,000 fireworks were destroyed in the fire that followed.

Another cause for creating massive fireworks was the long reign of George III. How spectacular these illuminations must have seemed extravagent to people at a time when candlelight was rare and expensive.

When the Napoleonic Wars came to an end, famed rope walker, Madame Saqui, could finally cross the English Channel in 1816 to perform at Vauxhall Gardens for the first time. 

‘In the midst of a great burst of fireworks, Bengal lights glimmering faintly in the clouds of smoke, Madame Saqui stands on a rope, sixty feet up, and follows a narrow and difficult path to the end of her journey. Sometimes she is completely hidden from all eyes by the billowing waves, but from the way she walks, so self-assured, one would think an Immortal was walking peacefully towards her celestial home.’

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!

To Gamble on an Earl 

The Men of Waterloo Series – Book Two

Evan, the Earl of Foxington, had only one mistress, Lady Luck. When she deserted him at the Battle of Hougomont he was left scarred in more ways than one.

Lady Phoebe Collins has loved Foxington since she and her best friend, his sister, dogged his footsteps as children. When she received a request from him for a tryst at a ball, what seemed to be the answer to her dreams turned out to be a nightmare.

Will Foxington be able to overcome the thrill of gambling to earn Phoebe’s trust? Will Phoebe ever learn to feel safe enough to love again?

Get your copy here!

Excerpt

Lady Phoebe Collins backed into the alcove, stopping when she bumped against the floral wallpaper. She was safely hidden in the shadows, away from the ballroom and its dancing couples. She took the note from her reticule and her heart skipped a beat as she read the words written in a strong hand, “Meet me in the sitting room, two doors beyond the stairs, at half past eleven. —Fox.”

Putting the note back into her reticule, she smiled at the familiar form of address in the signature and moved down the hall to the specified room. Why did Foxington want to meet her? Was he having regrets about what had happened when they’d been snowed in on Christmas Eve? Or was he planning to continue what they’d started on that magical night? His nickname, “The Fox” implied an intimate relationship, and her pulse fluttered again at the thought. She walked down the hall, her mind going over every detail of the night they were trapped together by a snowstorm one year earlier.

Foxington approached offering to escort her home after a dinner party where Ravenstone had surprised everyone by asking Lady Lettice Durham, Foxington’s sister to marry him. The trip home had gone terribly wrong, an unexpected storm piling so much snow on the road that they’d had to unhitch the horses and finish the journey to Elkhorn Hall on horseback.

            Foxington had taken her up behind him, and the intimacy of the situation had encompassed them, lingering after they’d arrived and been cared for by the intrepid housekeeper, Mrs. Brown. Food and dry clothing had been provided for everyone, including Foxington’s aunt, who had also been in the carriage as chaperone.  

            After Foxington’s aunt departed the room, Phoebe walked around the space, picking up pillows from the sofa and fluffing them, only to put one down before picking up another.

            “I would say this evening was a success in regards to Lady Lettice and Lord Ravenstone. You accomplished what you set out to do. Your sister is now betrothed, and to a fine gentleman.” Phoebe looked up at Foxington with a smile.

            The earl moved swiftly toward Phoebe, reached for the pillow she was holding to her chest, and threw it back onto the sofa before placing one arm around her waist. He cupped her cheek, bent down, and kissed her.

            The urgency in his kiss surprised them both, and for a moment she didn’t react. Then, as if giving in to some inner debate her body relaxed against his, she returned the pressure of his lips, and her legs moved against the confines of her gown to arch slightly against him.

            He paused slightly, then kissed her once more, gently. He set her back from him with his arms stiff and his breathing ragged.

            “Phoebe?” he asked softly, his deep voice thick. With concern, she’d thought.

             She stared at him, realizing he was just as shocked as she at their encounter.

            “You—you kissed me,” she whispered.

            “I certainly did.” A devilish grin quirked at his lips. “And by all accounts you kissed me back. Care for another one?”

From The Author

I have been reading romance novels since the age of fourteen and never turned back. I have my Mom to thank for my interest in romance novels and my Dad for my love of history.

When I am not reading (or writing the stories which dance around in my head) I enjoy the joyful moments with my growing family, the ballet, long walks, travel and romantic movies.

Writing has always been a great passion of mine and I am glad to be doing what I like best. Connecting with readers is a bright spot and always a happy moment for me knowing my books touched someone and they took the time to let me know. Each and every reader is the reason I continue to write Regency Historical romances and you are the ones who keep me at it.

Visit Me At:
Website: https://dianedario.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DianeDarioRegency/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Diane-Dario/e/B0157G6A5A?ref=dbs_p_ebk_r00_abau_000000
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14253284.Diane_Dario
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/dianedario/

My latest book, Colton’s Mistaken Identity, is Book 7 in the Coltons of Roaring Springs series from Harlequin Romantic Suspense. While each book in the series is standalone, meaning you don’t have to read any of the previous, it’s a richer read when you have. My heroine is an identical twin and poses as her (missing? kidnapped?) twin during a film festival in the idyllic setting of Roaring Springs, Colorado. Phoebe works at her parent’s Chateau resort, giving the setting a very Aspen/French Alps feel. Phoebe is attracted to the bigtime movie star Prescott Reynolds, but can’t even contemplate a sexy rendezvous or two, not with her sister’s mysterious disappearance and the festival to run. Of course, lots of scary suspense and life-threatening action ensues, along with intimate, intense sexy times. It’s why it’s called romantic suspense. What keeps me happily writing Harlequin Romantic Suspense is the depth of characters and the emotional honesty of their relationships. I hope you’ll enjoy them, too.

Colton’s Mistaken Identity

The wrong twin…or the right one?
A Coltons of Roaring Springs romance

Marketing exec Skye Colton suddenly disappears, putting the Roaring Springs Film Festival in jeopardy. Enter Skye’s identical twin, Phoebe, who poses as her sister. In her starring role, Phoebe catches the eye of A-list actor Prescott Reynolds, and she can’t deny the electricity that erupts between them. With Skye still missing and a stalker at large, this is the worst time to fall in love, especially with danger racing toward them…

Excerpt

A flash of red, the distinct shade he’d first laid eyes on this morning in the copse of aspen trees, caught his attention. The same woman he’d seen on the trail walked past him and began to climb the stairs to the grand ballroom. He knew where the impressive stairs led, as he’d already memorized the layout of the hotel. His privacy had necessitated he know every nook and cranny to escape to if the paparazzi became rabid.

She wasn’t in running clothes any longer, and her hair was styled to show off the unique hue. From her profile he saw that she was wearing makeup, a little much for his taste, but he was used to being around women who enjoyed dolling themselves up. It was all part of being an actor.

This woman intrigued him when she shouldn’t. And yet as she’d walked by, oblivious to him, he’d caught a whiff of floral perfume that captured him like a trout in a net. The sight of her profile again, this time with makeup on and offset by the backdrop of the luxurious resort, struck a chord deep inside him. Prescott wasn’t a stranger to immediate attraction but this took it to a new place for him. Besides the obvious physical pull of her beauty, he sensed the potential for something deeper, more meaningful, between them.

What the heck was going on with him?

She wasn’t wearing anything exciting, and her business suit didn’t show off her curves as well as her workout clothing had. Still, in the view he had of her backside, there was no denying her very feminine shape under the jacket and dress pants. Insta-lust made him pause, not wanting to get an erection in public.

You’ve been alone too long.

After what he’d been through with his ex, he knew better than to even look twice at this stunning woman. But he couldn’t help himself. Truth be told, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Nor how relieved he’d felt when he’d realized she wasn’t trailing him. It was always in the back of his mind that Ariella could show up again, and her penchant for ugliness wasn’t something he relished. He’d been drawn to Ariella’s intelligence and quick wit. And it had worked for a while, until her true nature of career-climbing at the expense of the men in her life reappeared. Or maybe he’d simply come out of his denial about her dark side. Either way, it had been a rough go of it for his dating life ever since.

But the redhead… His gut told him to go after her.

He didn’t entertain the rational side of his brain that told him he was out of his league. That not everyone was impressed by actors, not that he ever consciously used his job or status to seduce a woman. He believed more in allowing an attraction to grow organically.

This inexplicable urge to talk to the stranger, the only redhead he’d seen at The Chateau, was definitely organic on his part. But would she think he was odd?
What if she wasn’t available? Preston stopped midway up the staircase. He hadn’t even considered that she might be with someone already. Hell, she could even be married.

Chill, dude.

Prescott hadn’t had to go after a woman in years. And he missed it. The constant attention from the opposite sex had been heady when he’d arrived in Hollywood and been cast in his first roles ten, twelve years ago. But it quickly grew old, and he didn’t want to spend time with someone who only saw him as an actor. The redhead clearly worked here or had a role to play in the film fest, so she was probably used to celebrities. Would she see past the Caribbean-blue eyes that had become his trademark? Not that he’d ever expected to be known for his eyes. His dream wasn’t even so much to be recognized for his acting as to be give the opportunities to bring meaningful roles to life. He wasn’t a fan of the celebrity culture that came with it but he understood it was all part of the gig.

Except when he wanted a woman to see him as more than a contender for a tabloid’s annual sexiest man.

He walked through open, massive carved oak doors and into the hotel’s pièce de résistance—the grand ballroom. The floor was entirely parquet but covered with a huge red carpet that ran into its center, where the area delineated for dancing remained clear. Hundreds if not a full thousand round tables framed the open area, the crystal chandeliers catching the fading sunlight, their bulbs still dim. Soon they’d be bright and the room a cacophony of press, actors, studio executives and the teams of people it took to make it all happen.

It was that rare quiet moment before a major event launched. Right now it was hushed as workers rapidly set tables and moved last-minute lighting equipment into place. A DJ set up in a far corner of the room, her control panel as large as any he’d ever seen in a concert. But in another hour and a half, it would burst to life with an entirely different personality.

Prescott liked the quiet anticipation before an event. As much as he enjoyed the slow build of desire as he met and wooed a woman into his bed.

The redhead stood alone in the middle of the room, silently moving her lips as she read from her phone. Her running clothes were gone but she hadn’t upgraded her look that much, wearing easy black pants and a simple pale pink silk shell. Her skin was dewy, and as he’d already noticed she liked her makeup heavy, but on her stunning features it only emphasized her beauty.

His running shoes, silent on the plush carpet, hit the parquet floor, and a loud squeak sounded. The woman gasped as she startled and dropped her phone onto the carpet. Her caramel-brown eyes lasered in on him, and he knew how a bug felt under a magnifying glass. But it was more like an ant under a sunbeam as heat immediately flared in his chest, rushing toward his groin. The woman was so damned beautiful, from her glorious red hair to her full lush lips, down to her full breasts and hips. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so smitten, from the get-go.

Because you never have been.

He held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He bent down and retrieved her phone, on which he saw notes displayed before he handed it back to her.

“I-I’m not…scared.” She cleared her throat, and he had to consciously force his gaze from the creamy skin of her neck to her eyes. He swore he already knew what she’d taste like, how her soft skin would give under the pressure of his lips.

“What can I do for you?” She’d been surprised by his appearance but recovered quickly. The immediate shock in her brown eyes was already replaced by cool assessment. Yup, definitely someone used to working with celebrities. And not easily impressed, he’d guess.

“I’m Prescott—”

“I know who you are, Mr. Reynolds. Is there something you need before tonight’s premiere?” Her tone burst with brusque efficiency, but all he could see was the way her pink-glossed lips formed the words.

“You didn’t notice, but this morning we were both on the hiking trail.”

“You mean the running path?” She bit her lower lip, and her cheeks flushed under the makeup. Why did she have an expression of guilt on her feminine features? “Sorry, but I’m not a runner. You must have seen my twin sister, Phoebe. She, ah, goes for a few miles every morning. I’m more of a night owl. Did you enjoy your time on the property?”

“Yes, of course.” He waved his hand around, motioning at the room. “This entire place is amazing. It’s easy to feel like I’m in the middle of Normandy or Burgundy while I’m here.” Too late he realized what a snob he sounded like. His global travel was a direct privilege of his celebrity status, and the Iowa farm boy inside him cringed at his careless mention of a destination so few ever afforded.

“Thank you. I’ll pass that on to my parents. Is there something else?” There was an air of impatience, no, make that desperation about her as she repeated her question. Maybe she had to practice red carpet introductions, or there had been some last-minute disruptions to the festival’s launch gala.

“Actually, it’s me who’d like to do something for you. What did you say your name was?”

Most women were impressed enough by this point to at least show a spark of appreciation in their gaze. But not this woman. She actually hesitated before she answered, as if reluctant to let him know anything so personal. Talk about the tables being turned.

The warmth in his center from her nearness exploded into something he hadn’t felt in a long while. Joy.

Prescott realized that he’d sorely missed having a woman turn him on his head. Maybe this film festival wasn’t going to be the laborious weeklong junket that he’d resigned himself to.

“I’m Skye Colton, the resort’s marketing director.” She held out a slim hand, and he took it. As they shook he was again distracted, this time by the silky softness of her skin that contrasted sharply with the firmness of her grip. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Not as pleased as I am. Call me Prescott, please.” He loved how she grasped his hand like a boss. She’d be incredible in bed, he instinctively knew. But what stunned him was that he wasn’t interested in that, not right now. Well, maybe he was completely enthralled by how seductive her mere presence was, but he was feeling something very different from first-meet attraction. Something more palpable.

All Prescott wanted was to get to know Skye Colton better. Suddenly his seven-day junket in Roaring Springs felt as if it was already half over. There would never be enough time to know this woman the way he wanted to.

But damned if he wouldn’t give it his best shot.

*
Phoebe knew she gripped Prescott’s hand too tightly, but to his credit the man didn’t even wince. She’d had no choice, as there was no other way to hide her nervousness. Thank goodness she’d wiped her palm on her pants before she’d shaken his. Otherwise he’d have known how rattled she was.

The photos and films didn’t do this man justice. Not even close. She’d never had a zing of awareness when she’d seen him on the big screen, nor had she grown wet with pure feminine need as she’d watched his performances. Standing so near to him, it was a shock to her that his star status wasn’t at play. She felt as she would with a non-celebrity man she was attracted to. Except her reaction was so far over the top. Between his deep voice, his words that made her feel like she was the only woman in the room, and the confidence in his posture and body language that hinted at his athleticism, her knees felt like her mother’s pepper jelly. All wobbly but with heat washing over her skin, making her want to run away before she did what her hormones were begging for: to kiss Prescott Reynolds right here in the ballroom and tell him to follow her to her room.

This must be what groupies feel like, and why they go after movie and rock stars.

This had to be some kind of sexual overreaction due to the morning’s upheaval caused by Skye’s disappearance.

Prescott flashed his familiar white-toothed I-leave-hearts-crushed-with-every-footstep grin that she recognized from his film promos and it snapped it out of her sexual trance.

It was nothing like the smile she’d witnessed in her favorite work of his—an historical period piece where he’d played a struggling artist amid the French Revolution. While his smile was part of his trademark good looks, as he looked at her, she was aware that there was more to this man than his celebrity. And he knew how to turn it on and off, not a virtue of many people she’d met who lived in the spotlight.

“Okay, then. Nice to meet you, Prescott.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Skye.” Phoebe didn’t like lying, ever, yet as she stood in the middle of the grand ballroom, her hair and makeup perfectly done in Skye’s signature style, it was surprisingly easy to fall into the role. Save for Skye’s effervescent presence. And extreme comfort around attractive, powerful men.

“You must be very excited for tonight. I’ll be announcing each of you, I mean the VIPs, as you arrive.” She’d watched from the sidelines as her twin had handled actors over the past three years since they’d both left college. Skye made it look so easy, but Phoebe was drained at the mere thought of having to play “happy to meet you” with countless actors.

He shrugged, his tall, muscular frame formidable in measure but his energy anything but. He made her feel as though she were the only person he wanted to be with. No doubt all part of his practiced Hollywood charm.

“It’s a thrill to know the world’s going to finally see something I worked so hard on, but to be frank, I left this film’s set almost a year ago. My mind is on other…projects.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, his flirting was so obvious. “I’ll bet it is.” It seemed silly, but she went ahead and batted her eyes anyway. And immediately felt like Skye. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t really her twin, please forgive her, and would he call her Phoebe?

But she couldn’t. So she smiled, content to soak up his aura of good cheer as pseudo-Skye.

He smiled back, but it wasn’t the predatory grin of a man on the prowl. She’d watched plenty of actors behave poorly over the years, and this wasn’t it. Prescott seemed relaxed, and there was a special light in his eyes that she couldn’t attribute to the chandeliers, as they weren’t fully lit yet. She didn’t know the man, but if she had to name it, she’d say he was happy. A man in his element. Exactly where he wanted to be.

Buy links: https://gerikrotow.com/books/coltons-mistaken-identity/#order

About the Author

Geri Krotow is the bestselling author of the Silver Valley PD series for Harlequin Romantic Suspense, and the Bayou Bachelors series with Kensington Lyrical Caress. A U.S. Naval Academy graduate and Intelligence Officer, Geri left her Navy career to pursue writing. Geri enjoys creating sexy contemporary romances and tingling suspense.

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