So why do I do it? Simple. I’ve always loved historical romances. I cut my teeth on Wicked Loving Lies by Rosemary Rogers and Shanna by Kathleen Woodiwiss. OMG, Shanna was so good. I read other books by the author but none were as great. There was something magical about Shanna that spoke to me on a deep and enduring level. I wanted to write historicals.
Before I accomplished my goal, I did take quite a detour. For those of you familiar with my work, you’ll know my forte is contemporary romantic comedy. Frankly, it’s super easy for me to write. Dialogue is a breeze and I have a snarky sense of humor that comes off well on the page.
With numerous romantic comedies under my belt, I moved on to erotic paranormals (both romantic comedies and suspense) then sci-fi and numerous other genres, However, I still wanted to try historicals.
I won’t lie – the research is grueling. Admittedly, I don’t know everything about the world I live in. However, I do know how to use a PC, smartphone, and whatnot, so I don’t have to look up every single thing I write. With an historical, you have to start from scratch. I have pages and pages of research on carrier pigeons. I had to know how long those critters could fly before they got pooped and dropped to the earth. Fun stuff like that.
Anyway, I penned a few historicals several years ago and they were well-received, but then I veered back into romantic comedy. Now, historical has captured my interest again. First, with my Dangerous Desires series last year – medieval erotic romance that took place in 15th century Spain and this year Pirate’s Prize, my historical series set in the early seventeen hundreds.
Days of Desire, book two, releases July 4. How’s that for a holiday gift for those of you in the States? Here’s the cover art, a blurb, an excerpt, and some teasers. Enjoy!
Days of Desire – Book Two -Pirate’s Prize
Available for Preorder – Ready to Read July 4
In a pirate’s lair, nothing is as it seems . . .
Shipwrecked! When Royce Hastings is found washed up on the shore of a verdant tropical island, he tells the natives he is a merchant headed for Mozambique. The truth, however, is far more mercenary. Noble by birth, the once favored Royce has lost his fortune and family; now he is a hired henchman on the trail of an elusive pirate. His “shipwreck” was a fake. He’ll stop at nothing to infiltrate the island and capture his prey. His mother and sisters’ lives depend on it.
The last thing Royce expects is to be captured himself. But the lovely young woman who tends to his wounds in the tropics quickly takes hold of his heart. Simone is the island’s healer, and her skilled ministrations not only awaken his soul but disturb his conscience. His path has been predetermined; his identity must remain concealed at all costs. Yet the passion he feels in Simone’s sultry, loving arms cannot be denied. With his loyalties torn, Royce must make an agonizing, unthinkable choice. . . .
Simone’s heart beat faster. “Finish your bacon, please. While you eat, I should change the sheet.”
Royce chewed quickly, swallowed, and lifted his face, his lips nearly grazing her nipple.
She couldn’t imagine anything more pleasant than his mouth on her. “You can sit in the chair while I tend the bed. Let me help you to it.” She slipped her arm around his middle.
He favored his uninjured leg, brow furrowing, breath coming hard and fast.
She stroked his bandaged thigh. “Does it hurt?”
“Bloody right it does.”
He pressed her against the wall, imprisoning her wrists, his length molded to hers, cock snug to her mound. “You’re driving me mad. I can’t take any more of this. I won’t.”
He slanted his mouth over hers.
She surrendered willingly, joyously, accepting his tongue, melting into him.
His savage growl told her all she needed to know. He desired her.
She’d never been more alive.
His touch branded her soul, claiming it, marking her forever. She twisted free from his hold and wreathed her arms around his shoulders, her fingers buried in his silken hair to keep him near.
Their greedy and wild kiss turned tender and slow.
She ground her hips into his, needing to be closer.
He held her so tightly nothing could come between them. Boldly, he cupped her breast and thumbed her nipple.
Pleasure sped from every direction, filling her.
Forever wouldn’t have been long enough to enjoy him. He tasted salty from the bacon and glorious from a flavor that was his alone. His bristly cheeks rasped hers, the mild sting encouraging her to yield further. She longed to wake up each morning to him and this.
They only had now.
Whatever the future brought, Simone refused to dwell on loss. She’d willingly belong to him for a moment rather than have no time at all. In two or three months, she’d say good-bye. Not today.