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Changes on WIP Wednesday

Millie doesn’t know she she can change shape. Here’s the scene where she finds out in my current draft of Wild Magic, the 4th book in Many Kinds of Magic.

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They heard the crowd before they saw them, yelling insults and curses, some in incredibly explicit language that painted Millie as an enchantress who consumed men. Millie could hear the coachman shouting at the crowd.

“I should have accepted the guard I was offered,” said Mr. O’Brien. “Mrs. Hexworth, if the crowd manages to breach the carriage, I am going to change into my wolf form. Leap onto my back and hang onto my neck. You can take tight hold of the thick skin and a handful of skin. You won’t hurt me. I’ll take us clear of the crowd. The carriage driver knows our first stop and will meet us there.”

He had time for no more than that when what he feared happened—someone wrenched the door open. Millie could feel the change in O’Brien’s aura as his power moved and began to shape him into a different form. And even as she sensed the way he changed, she found her own power imitating him, shifting her bones, her flesh, everything about her. The man who was trying to reach into the carriage fell back, his mouth open in astonishment or fear, and she heard the low grumble of Mr. O’Brien’s growl.

Furthermore, the carriage seemed suddenly ten times the size, and the face of the intruder was enormous. When she opened her mouth to make her own sound, it came out as a loud caw, and when she tried to leap onto O’Brien’s back, holding out her arms to balance herself, her arms caught the air and lifted her off her seat. In a moment, instinct took over. She flapped her arms hard and soared out of the carriage over the heads of those who were trying to break into it.

Looking behind her, she could see a large red wolf leap out of the carriage over the heads of the attackers. But she had little time to think about it, for she had problems of her own.

Her legs were doing no good, though she was trying to run with them, for she was twenty yards or more above the street. Her arms had turned into wings, and they had lifted her way up here. She tucked her legs up underneath her and swept the wings down in another strong beat, and then another and another, for she was flying, not in a graceful manner, but lurching from wingsweep to wingsweep as she got the hang of it. She climbed higher and higher, soaring away from the street and flying over the roofs of the buildings.

Could she circle in the air? Yes, she could. Down below, she could see the wolf—O’Brien—looking up at her. He must have realized she was watching him because he began to pad along the road, and she, still a little ungainly but gaining confidence and grace as she learned how this body moved in the air, followed him.

Millie’s bird form was able to keep pace with the wolf, and she flew on and on, following O’Brien’s red shape, which more or less kept to the ribbon of the road, but avoided places with crowds of people, leaving the road when he saw he was approaching a village and skirting through fields until he came back out on the road on the other side.

She wondered if he would have any trouble with other travelers, but here in England, where wolves were no longer in the wild, they must have assumed he was as human as they were and left him alone. For his own part, he simply padded along, ignoring the other travelers.

Eventually, when Millie’s chest and shoulder muscles were beginning to ache, he stopped within sight of a village that must have been about an hour and a half’s drive from Chester. Millie hadn’t seen the carriage they’d left behind—or at least she hadn’t noticed that one of the carriages on the road was theirs. Perhaps she had overlooked it, or perhaps it had passed them during one of their diversions around a village, because it was waiting for them outside the inn in the village.

O’Brien did not enter the village, but leapt over a gate into a field and sat there, his muzzle pointed up toward her, and his tail tucked neatly around one side to lie across his front paws. Did he want her to join him?

It suddenly occurred to Millie that she’d never landed before. Well, there was a first time for everything. The first thing to do was to drop low enough to consider how to reach the ground. Birds she had watched circled in order to come into land. That seemed a good idea. She tried it, stalling a couple of times as she scooped too much air under her wings and stopped in the air instead of merely slowing down. But each time she recovered.

O’Brien was probably laughing at her. It was hard to tell from his wolf’s face, though he was sitting there with his tongue flopping out one side of his muzzle as he watched her.

She learned from those two stalls and managed to circle down until she was not far above the ground. The last part was the bit she wasn’t looking forward to. It was, she supposed, a matter of a controlled stall as her feet hit the ground. She spread her wings ready, cupped the air, and held her breath. It wasn’t too bad an effort for a first time. She had to walk forward quickly, but she didn’t plant her face in the dirt as she had been very much afraid she might.

She should have said plant her beak, she supposed. She had a rather splendid one. And from what she could see, she was black all over. She rather thought she might be a raven or a crow. Furthermore, a raven or a crow she was likely to stay, because she had no idea at all how to change back.

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“True Love’s Kiss” in Moonlight Madness

Their love is forbidden, so how can his kiss save her life?

True Love’s Kiss, by Rue Allyn

In search of missing children and the villain who stole them, two hunters meet—one human, one fae. They clash over how to proceed and why, while stubbornly refusing to recognize their growing love. Not until one hunter’s life hangs in the balance can True Love’s Kiss resolve their differences.

Introducing “Rikki Tabormaen de Aether as Hugh first sees her.

Her red hair framed a narrow face, with delicate features including slightly tilted black eyes with golden sparks and a gently sloped nose over two pale pink lips. Her skin was pale, nearly white, and she was dressed all in pale green clothing. Silvery trim and accessories decorated the strange dress she wore. It fit tight around her chest, revealing a very pleasant shape. The skirt fell in separate panels from her waist—almost like the knight’s tabard he’d read of as a child. Her very fine, long legs showed on either side of the panels. Boots encased her legs, rising to her thighs and topped by bare skin. He could not identify the material that comprised her boots, but it bore the same silver and green colors as her odd dress.

Rikki Tabormaen de Aether is the best of the Aether Clan warriors and is in pursuit of the villain who stole several tuatha children. The children had unwisely left the sanctuary walls to play in the nearby woods. The enemy, had lured them into the human world where tuatha law did not rule and had then captured the children with the intent to sell them to demons in exchange for magical powers. Against the wishes of her clan’s leadership, Rikki sets out alone to hunt for the children and the villain. She knows their fate if she fails to find them in time. Thus when a human hunter bent on the same mission interferes, Rikki is not happy.

Introducing Hugh Coilltear, Royal Forester as seen through the heroine’s eyes.

He was handsome in a rough-hewn way. Humans could never hope to match any tuatha for physical beauty. However, beneath an untidy mop of yellow hair was a square jawed face. Eyes of pale blue, a mostly straight nose. A wide mouth, with dark, moderately full lips. Typical of the few humans she’d met, his skin was a sun-darkened bronze. Impressive shoulders and height marked him as exceptional even among humans. Overall, her sense of him was one of darkness, strength and contrast marked by the pale eyes and hair that somehow dominated the dark. Nothing about him revealed any clue as to his character.

Hugh is a widower with a ten-year-old son. When Hugh’s wife died, he wanted to die as well. However, his wife’s dying wish was for Hugh to live and raise their son with the kind of love they had shared. Unable to tolerate the pity of his friends and neighbors, Hugh and his son moved to a cottage on the edge of the forest where Hugh worked for the crown. One day, while Hugh was doing his work in the forest, his son was stolen. Hugh set off to find the boy and visit the king’s justice on any villain who would steal a child.

Excerpt from True Love’s Kiss

She admired his persistence, if nothing else. He must love his son very much to continue searching when he believed the search should have ended days ago.

What would it be like to have someone love me like that? Enough to search beyond all hope to find me if I were in trouble.

Oh, her mother liked her well enough as did many of the other tuatha. However, Rikki did not believe any tuatha would search beyond hope of success. She wouldn’t. Of course she knew, as Hugh could not, that hope of finding the missing young ones grew stronger with every step.

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My October sales books

My October sale books are A Baron for Becky (an Aldridge-adjacent novel), the novel An Unpitied Sacrifice (book 6 in The Golden Redepennings series), and Paradise Regained (a prequel novella in The Return of the Mountain King).

A Baron for Becky https://books2read.com/ABaronforBecky

An Unpitied Sacrifice https://books2read.com/u/479JAA

Paradise Regained https://books2read.com/u/mBNEkA

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Spotlight on Twisted Magic

Published September 29th:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HHC299M5

Book 2 in Many Kinds of Magic

In a Regency world where magical gifts mean power and status, they struggle to find a place…

Persephone Thornton is in her cousin’s house to spy on him, for he is England’s dragon lord and her father died while on a mission for Wales. Sephie does not expect to actually like her Cousin Jasper and his wife Delia. Nor does she expect her Welsh contact, one of Jasper’s gardeners, to give her the secret to using her mage gift without it twisting into something undesirable.

Taliesin Ddraennen was raised by the Welsh resistance, and has been spying for them since he was sixteen. He has never before been partnered with a lady from the English aristocracy. Seeing past her thorny nature, Taz quickly comes to admire her resilience and intelligence.

When a spell to eavesdrop on the dragon lord’s meetings is discovered and blamed on Sephie, he refuses to leave her behind. Their escape leads them into England’s ancient forests and the arms of the fae, where they discover the true nature of their mage gifts, which have always twisted to give flawed results.

On their return to the outside world, their newfound connection will be immediately put to the test, when Taz is asked to choose between Sephie and Welsh freedom.

With war all around them and peace seemingly impossible, they must find the path that allows them to choose one another.

Meet Taz and Sephie

Sephie

What a prickly woman! Not that prickles bothered Taz. Some of the prettiest plants had them. Take roses, for example. Miss Thornton reminded him of a rose. A lovely face, petal-soft skin—or so he imagined—and a graceful form. She was a little shorter than him, with a slender but shapely figure, hair of a sort of flaxen gold tied carelessly in a bun, and bright blue eyes.

Taz

It was a nice face, too, now that she came to really look at it. Handsome, if thin. In fact, he was an attractive man. Dark hair with a slight curl, grey eyes with a hint of green, the broad shoulders of a man who did physical labor, but not so broad as to be out of place on a slender man of medium height.

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Finding My Way to You in Moonlight Madness

Finding My Way To You: by Sherry Ewing

The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time (Book Seven)

When a ghost meets a determined lady, can he convince her to leave the past where it belongs?

Sir Rolf Norwood has been alone haunting Berwyck Castle for centuries. He is bound to the estate after vowing to watch over its descendant throughout time. A chance encounter with a lady who can actually see him makes him wonder if love has possibly found him, although to love her is inconceivable.

Lady Leonora Beckwith is not your typical lady. Her mother has all but disowned her for her ability to see ghosts. Leaving London to live near the Scottish border may give her younger sister a chance to find a suitable match. But upon her arrival, how could Leonora have known that one look at the ghost who resides at Berwyck, would change her fate… and his.

When an impossible opportunity reveals itself, Leonora willingly leaps at the chance to change Rolf’s history because sometimes you to need to follow where you heart leads.

An excerpt from Finding My Way to You

Rolf… his name being called out in a breathy whisper made him rush forward as though God Himself carried Rolf to a room without his consent. Aye! He appeared in his ghostly shape in the bedchamber of who he assumed was Berwyck’s latest visitor to the castle. But he had not appeared here willingly. Nay… ’twas done by a power not of his own making. What kind of magic did this woman possess?

He hovered near the bed to gaze down upon the vision before him. He had seen many women come and go over the centuries from Berwyck’s walls but none had ever had such an effect on him. His heart raced within his chest and he realized he had reached out his hand to stroke her brown hair that had come loose from her coiffure. He closed his fingers to resist the temptation before him. No woman had ever made his heart flutter as though he had found love accept one and even then he had known the lady was destined for another. So why now? Why would the good Lord above send a woman that could make him actually feel something for a lady not of his own world?

“Rolf.” His name repeated aloud once again made him smile to hear the sound of her voice.

He continued to watch the woman before him as she apparently dreamed of him but how did she know his name? He frowned as though trying to remember her from another visit to the castle but he swore he had never seen her before this very moment. Something flashed in his memory of gazing at her standing at the entryway to the great hall but she had not been from the present day. ’Twas improbable that he had met her before now. Or was it?

Meet Sherry Ewing

Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. An award-winning and bestselling author, she writes historical and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. When not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. You can learn more about Sherry and her books on her website where a new adventure awaits you on every page at www.SherryEwing.com.

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Magic for children in WIP Wednesday

Today, I have an excerpt from Small Magic, which I expect back from the editor late this week or early next. It is book 3 in Many Kinds of Magic, and sends my hero and heroine to join Napoleon’s army as it advances into Russia. But in this excerpt, my heroine is using her very small gift of magic to coax compliance out of two reluctant pupils.

Clara gave in first. The temptation of the paper parrots proved too much for her, and she wrote three misspelled paragraphs about kittens. The writing showed promise. The sentence that described kittens as “tiny tigers that prowl the stables and are death to mice” was remarkably mature for her age. And Hannah was rather taken by the phrase “warm, sweet, and fierce,” which was perfectly true, even if “fierce” lacked an “i”, an “r” and a “c”, and had an extra “e” and an “s” in their place.

As her reward, Clara chose to learn how to make paper parrots rather than go out for a walk. Hannah assured her she could have both, but Clara cast a glance at her brooding sister and politely said, “Just the parrots please, Miss Prendergast.”

That being the case, the pair of them sat folding paper, Clara copying Hannah as closely as she could, and Hannah helping her to correct any mistakes. Before long, they had a little row of parrots waiting on the table.

Next came the spell. This time, Hannah said the animating rhyme out loud as Clara brushed the salt and ginger mix on one parrot after another, until a flock of them were fluttering around the room, with Clara dancing beneath them, laughing and trying to catch them.

Agnes stared at them with her mouth open, her eyes filled with longing, but when she saw Hannah watching her, she scowled, picked up a book, and began reading.

The parrots didn’t last long. They had a habit of crashing into walls or furniture, shedding some of the spelled mix and softening the paper. Hannah had already warned Clara that the effect of the spell would be temporary, and the little girl made no complaint when the last parrot crash landed on the carpet.

“Let us tidy up,” Hannah said, “and I shall ask for cheese and bread to toast for a treat.”

“For Agnes, too?” Clara asked. What a sweet child she was.

“I’m not hungry,” grumbled Agnes.

On the following day, Hannah once again talked about the benefits to both her and her pupils of cooperation, and the costs of a continued war. “For today’s treat after lessons, I propose the walk I suggested yesterday. I have another spell I should like to show you. Have you ever heard bluebells singing?”

Once again, Clara was excited to comply. She and Hannah went through her cat essay, discussing spelling and grammar. Once she had written a fair copy, they worked through a few sums. After seeing the essay, Hannah had formed a positive opinion of Nanny’s teaching abilities. Clara’s arithmetic put an end to it.

Still, the girl was bright and willing. She would learn.

Agnes, who had been watching from her seat by the nursery fireplace, said, “Nanny said we do not need to learn our numbers. Arithmetic is for men, not ladies.”

“Oh?” Hannah replied. “I think perhaps your mother would disagree with that. If you do not know your numbers, how will you manage your dress allowance. Will you just keep spending until your father growls? And when you are married, how will you know whether your cook and housekeeper are cheating you? Will you expect your husband to keep your household accounts?”

Agnes lapsed into silence, but she did not join in, so when Clara and Hannah left for their walk, Hannah asked the nursery maid to sit with Agnes.

Clara was bubbling over with excitement when they returned, eager to tell Agnes all about the wonderful singing of a forest full of bluebells. Agnes turned away and refused to listen. Clara told the nursery maid, instead.

It had been a single clearing, and the bluebells sang a simple nursery rhyme. Hannah, after all, only had small magic. But Clara had been delighted, and that was the main thing. Now Hannah had to think of something for tomorrow. Something that Agnes could not resist.

She would need to pull out her book of spells tonight, and go through it looking for ideas.

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Spotlight on “The Haunted Hoyden” in Moonlight Madness

Here is the next in my series of spotlights on the novellas in Moonlight Madness. Preorder for October 15th at the low preorder price for eight wonderful stories. https://books2read.com/u/4Dwnjr

The Haunted Hoyden

By Barbara Monajem

War-weary Lord Felipe reluctantly returns to England, obliged to marry and provide an heir for his father’s marquisate. He has barely stepped off the boat when he’s shot as a suspected smuggler.

Stuck in the country with a strict, elderly cousin, Lily rescues the handsome, wounded Felipe with the help of two friendly ghosts. Felipe is just what she needs to avoid not only boredom, but a wicked plan to curb her scandalous behavior once and for all.

Felipe can’t help but love Lily, but he doesn’t consider himself good husband material. How can she persuade him that he’s precisely what this hoyden needs?

Meet Lily and Felipe

Lily Transom is lively, clever, fun-loving, and curious—and it’s her curiosity about things a maiden shouldn’t know that leads to her banishment to the Dower House in the care of an unpleasant, conniving old lady. Fortunately, two friendly ghosts keep her company and help her rescue a wounded man who can keep her safe.

Lord Felipe Swanheld is the war-weary son of a marquess. He is an excellent impersonator, speaks several languages fluently, and served for years as a spy in France and Spain. He is considered a disgrace by society, but when he ends up wounded and in Lily’s care, he proves that he’s actually the soul of honor.

Excerpt:

“My parents have gone to London, while I’ve been banished here to ponder my sins,” Lily said.

“Sins?” The wounded stranger grinned. “Tsk, tsk.”

She blushed. “Nothing very dreadful—only disrespect and disobedience.”

“Ah. A girl after my own heart,” he said.

There I go again, being bad, Lily told herself. A respectable lady wouldn’t enjoy the innuendo in his voice. A sensible one would send him on his way. Fortunately, though, he was in no condition to go anywhere.

“We’d best get out of here, for they’ll search the ground floor first,” she said. “We’ll take the servants’ stairs. If you go up on your derriere, step by step—”

He snorted.

“What?”

“Ladies have derrieres. Men have arses.”

She huffed. “Up on your arse, then.” She fashioned him a sling from her shawl and helped him to the servants’ stairs. It was touch and go—he was weak and in constant danger of falling—but somehow, they both reached the landing. She peeked into the passageway.

“Can you walk a few steps?” she whispered. “We’re almost there.”

“For my gallant rescuer, I can do anything,” he said, and surprisingly, he did. A minute later, they reached her bedchamber. She unlocked the door, hurried him in, and shut and locked it again. She set the key on the lintel and sagged with relief against the door, her forehead against the cool, smooth wood.

When she turned a few seconds later, the stranger was flat on his back on her bed, fast asleep.

 

 

 

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Deathbed promises on WIP Wednesday


I wrote this preface to Within the Heart last week. I’ve moved on. It’s not going to be in the final book. But it is still part of the work in progress, so I thought I’d share it with you.

The rain drummed on the roof above the tiny attic room, making it hard for Ruth to hear her brother’s thready voice. She leant closer to the bed, which was just a thin mattress on the floor, not even the mean bed that she had in the maid’s quarters where she should be, except that the butler had permitted her into this part of the attic to nurse her sick brother.

“Promise me, Ruth,” Ricky said. “Promise me you’ll go to London in my place. The streets are paved with gold in London, so they say. You’ll be rich, just like I always promised.”

Ruth clung to Ricky’s hand. “You’ll get better,” she said. “You’ll get better, and we’ll go together. That’s what we planned, Ricky. I can’t do it on my own.”

“You can,” Ricky said. “You have to. I’ll be in heaven watching you, Ruth. I’ll watch you every step of the way.”

“No, Ricky.”

“Yes. You can do it, twin. Do it for me.”

That wee bit of conversation had exhausted him. He fell back on his pillow and lapsed back into sleep.

The doctor wouldn’t come for a scullion, said the butler, but he sent for Mrs. Brown, the wise woman. She examined Ricky and said it was the ague. She suggested a mustard plaster, and Ruth made it with her own hands and applied it. But it didn’t help, and nor did the ginger tea that Ruth had to pay for with a few coins from the twin’s meager store.

Mrs. Brown came again and shook her head. “Prepare yourself for the worst, girl,” she advised Ruth, but how could Ruth prepare oneself for the loss of the only person that was hers in the whole world?

Ricky woke again a few more times, and in one of his lucid periods, he asked Ruth to read the letter. She was carrying it in her apron pocket, for it was too precious to leave with her possessions or his.

Ricky had made a posset for a London gentleman who was staying in the house, and the gentleman had been so impressed that he had offered Ricky a job. Ricky had asked for a letter to show the gentleman’s cook, and the gentleman had laughed and given it to him.

It had one sentence, the one Ricky had built his dream on. “Give this boy a job.” Then the man’s signature. That was all.

“See, Ricky,” said Ruth. “I cannot go. They’re expecting a boy.”

“Pretend to be me,” said Ricky. “Promise, Ruth.”

And in the end, Ruth promised.

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Spotlight on “Always With You” in Moonlight Madness

Today, the first in a series of introductions to the stories in Moonlight Madness, the new collection from the Bluestocking Belles, now on preorder at a special introductory price of only $1.99

Buy Link:  https://books2read.com/u/4Dwnjr

Always With You

By Elizabeth Donne

Jessie and Florrie Dobbs live a simple, happy life selling fish at Weymouth docks. That is, until the Royal Navy press-gangs Jessie into service, forcing husband and wife apart without any idea of where he will be going, how long he will be away, or whether he will ever return.

Each must cope with their new challenges alone, bolstered only by memories of each other and the hope that they will be together again. All the while, the silence between them stretches on interminably.

Can Jessie keep his promise to return to Florrie? Or will they only be reunited in the next life?

An excerpt from Always With You

The hatch opened for the first time. The bright noonday sun blinded them. Perhaps another tactic to keep them on the back foot.

Jesse only knew that he could breathe again. The fresh salt air filled his nostrils. His lungs had hungered for it as his belly had for food and his parched lips had for water.

He closed his eyes, helping them grow accustomed to the blazing light. It still shone pink through his eyelids, and his head pounded with the needs his body wanted met. But he could inhale deeply, expand his chest, sip again a little of real life beyond the hellish hold. These small moments must be savored. They would be his salvation when dread threatened to overcome him.

“All right, you lot. Get up here!” called a voice from above.

The two youngsters were first up the laddered steps. The older men were not as keen to find out what awaited them.

One by one they surfaced onto the deck. It was manned by uniformed sailors and officers with swords. Beyond the gunwale, the coastline receded. This, more than anything, hit Jesse hard. His life had been on that strip of land. And it was slipping away.

Meet Elizabeth Donne

Elizabeth Donne’s writing is a natural outpouring of a lifelong love affair with English literature. Although she has spent most of her life in Cape Town, South Africa, she now lives in the American Midwest, where she enthusiastically introduces her visitors to the joys of drinking rooibos tea. With a biscuit, of course

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My September sales books

This month, I have my usual monthly sale, plus my quarterly sale of one series. You’re welcome!

Monthly sale

My September sale books are A Most Excellent Adventure (a novella in The Golden Redepennings series), the novel The Realm of Silence (book 3 in The Golden Redepennings series), and Paradise Triptych (a collection of two novellas and a memoir in The Return of the Mountain King).

A Most Excellent Adventure https://books2read.com/u/4DrxLO

The Realm of Silence https://books2read.com/TheRealmofSilence

Paradise Triptych https://books2read.com/Triptych

Quarterly sale

For two weeks in September, I have the series The Return of the Mountain King on sale, plus all the novellas for secondary characters who appear in the series.

The four novels are usually $4.49: the first novel is reduced to $0.99 and the other three to half price.

  1. To Wed a Proper Lady  https://books2read.com/CMK-ProperLady
  2. To Mend the Broken Hearted https://books2read.com/Broken-Hearted
  3. To Claim the Long-Lost Lover https://books2read.com/CMK-Claim
  4. To Tame a Wild Rake https://books2read.com/CMK-ToTame

The six other books are Paradise Triptych, which is two novellas and a memoir reduced from $2.49 to $1.49, and five other stand alone novellas, each reduced from $1.49 to $0.99.