Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Teaser Tuesday

Good morning! It's that time of the week again!!! The teaser this week isn't much... but I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to check out the fabulous Krystal Shannan's teaser as well!!


He placed a soft kiss on her head and then settled the infant back inside the ancient, wooden cradle. Medraut smiled as the late afternoon sun caught a glimmer of the red curls just beginning to grow on the tiny head. His chest ached and he clenched his jaw. He knew he would not live to see her full grown. He hovered in silence over the cradle as he filled his gaze with the sight of her.
In the courtyard below he could hear his soldiers as they prepared for battle.
“Medraut!”
He hurried across the room just as his wife threw open the narrow door to their private chambers. He glimpsed her tear stained face for only a moment before her body crashed into him. She buried her face against his armored chest.
Someone told her.
“Anewyn, my dear.” Medraut wrapped his arms around her. “Do not weep for me.” He inhaled her scent as he rested his chin on top of her head. His body responded to her but he pushed the thought away. His young wife was still pale from the loss of blood during their daughter’s birth. He would slack his body’s needs with one of the willing whores that followed the army when it marched.
“Do not weep!” Anewyn pulled away. “You are my husband! You are Meredithe’s father!” Medraut smiled as the fury and passion that flashed wildly in Anewyn’s deep blue eyes washed over him.
“Ane, love, our life together has not been easy.” He tightened his hold around her when she tried to back away. She shook her head as if to deny the truth.
“I can be a better wife for you.” Anewyn whispered. Medraut felt as if his own body were being split down the middle.
“Hush, love,” Medraut commanded in gentle tones.
Anewyn had been little more than a child when her Father approached him. The old knight had no sons and he did not trust the King with his only daughter’s future. He needed a strong man with a deep understanding of the Old Ways to shelter the girl. Anewyn’s father offered Medraut a castle and lands in the north if he would wed the girl and protect her.
“Our fate was sealed long before our paths crossed, Ane.” He tangled his hand into the loose black curls that cascaded down her back and tilted her head back.
“Medraut,” Anewyn whimpered, fresh tears pooled in her eyes.
“No matter what, Meredithe must be protected.” He held her, his gaze capturing hers with authority.
“You’ve had another vision?” Anewyn demanded as she struggled to break his hold on her.
Medraut nodded.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Teaser Tuesday

Ah, forgive me. The day has slipped away from me and I find that the sun is setting and I haven't yet posted my teaser for the day!!! I must first catch you up. My truck troubles are no more! Yay! My wonderful, awesome, amazing and spectacular husband solved them in the best way... --->

Now I have to admit to you... I have never driven a car this new. All my vehicles in the past were hand-me-downs and at least ten years old when I got them. So it was a good day for me. I would have cried but I was afraid the very flamboyant Irish woman whom we dealt with at the dealership might think I'd lost my marbles...

So - on to my teaser! Now, I've been diligently working on my paranormal and haven't taken the time to really think about which part of it I'd like to drop as a teaser. Instead I have been digging through very old, very unedited stories in my collection. All of these older pieces are on my to-do list to revise, re work and edit. Most of them also need to be finished. Okay, all of them need to be finished. But sshh, we aren't going to talk about that part.

Don't forget to check out the teaser from my fabulous crit partner Krystal Shannan!!!!
So here it is... as always, unedited! Please comment and let me know what you think!


Just before Christmas, 1869
    Cracking one eye open, Kate peered towards the front of the church and began to slowly slide towards the end of the dark wooden pew. She sent up a silent prayer. She wanted to avoid the slender Swede. If only I could be rude and just walk out during the prayer. There were people who did just that. Kate could not with good conscious be one of them. “Amen.” She heard the preacher conclude the lengthy prayer. The unseasonably warm day had brought out a full church and with any luck she hoped to squeeze through and slip around the back of the church where her Pa had left the wagon. Nikolas would avoid her if her Pa were nearby. A quick glance back told her that the Swede was moving fast in her direction.
    “The sermon, it vas good today, yes?” Nikolas Svenson repeated slowly as he stepped suddenly beside of Kate and took her elbow, a smile on his ever blushing face. Kate politely returned his smile. She had been helping him learn English for only a few months and was steadily impressed by how fast he learned. She had agreed to tutor him after she assisted the local midwife in delivering Nikolas’ mother’s last child and they had been unable to communicate with the family. The mother had died, but the baby was a thriving seven month old. Kate wondered now if that had been a mistake. As colder weather drew near, Nikolas had started to show a possessive interest in her.
    “Yes, very inspiring.” Kate offered softly. She had actually found it rather dull and unimpressive. The preacher seemed to go on and on about drunkenness, gambling, and the sins of the flesh the last few weeks.
    “Miss Kate, I vas hoping,” Nikolas began, sounding as if he had rehearsed throughout the service.
    “Ah! Kate! Nikolas! Wonderful to see you today,” Came the boisterous voice of the short, balding preacher. Despite being new to the town, the preacher had taken extra efforts to get to know his congregation. “I have not seen your father, Kate.” He probed carefully as he took her hand in his own clammy one.
    “No, sir, Preacher.” Kate shook her head sadly. She dropped her head as the preacher nodded his understanding. Kate’s Pa had started drinking more and more with each death in the family. First, each of his five sons, lost in the War and only a few months prior, the death of his wife. Now his sober moments each week could be counted on one hand. Kate slipped out the door, hoping she could get away while the Preacher had Nikolas detained. Once outside the small church, she fought the urge to run down the steps.
    “Miss Kate!” Kate frowned. She could feel Nikolas following her from the newly constructed white church. Pretending not to hear him, she lengthened her steps as she spied her Pa coming out of the saloon down the street. If only she could make it to the wagon.
    “Hello, Katie.”
    Katie felt her heart slam into her chest as she jerked to a stop. The deep voice that called her name was one from her past that she had not heard in so long, she had almost forgotten it. Almost. She turned just as Nikolas collided with her.
    “Miss Kate, I am sorry!” He quickly stepped back, reaching for her elbow to steady her. Then, out in the open, dropped his hold on her and put another step between them. “Please, Kate, a moment of you time?” Kate barely heard him as her eyes found the source of that familiar voice, standing only a few paces from her. For a moment, she stopped breathing.
                        “Jake?” Her voice was barely a whisper as she sucked in much needed air and her hand 
             went to the tiny silver locket around her neck. Six years of fear and anger surfaced suddenly and her face burned as tears stung her eyelids

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Teaser Tuesday

I think I have mentioned before that I have several stories that I started - years ago - bits a pieces of stories really. An image would hit me with a vague idea for a story and I'd get that image spilled out onto the page... and that might be all I have. So I found one of my favorites and decided to share it as a Tuesday Teaser! :-)

Don't forget to check out the fabulous Krystal Shannan  and her Tuesday Teaser as well!!!!

Remember... my teaser's are never edited.... :-)



The enormous knight sat rigid and silent atop a black Spanish charger. His helmet rested snugly in the crook of his arm as his eyes swept attentively across the valley before him. The castle sat, patiently waiting for him to free her of the unwanted Englishman. A chilling gust rustled the remaining few leaves around him, bringing with it the sharp scent of rain.

The guard of men, hidden just inside the trees behind him, shifted tensely. The knight’s dark indigo eyes narrowed as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, focusing his attention on the gates of the castle. The quickly setting sun cast a golden glow upon the castle, making it shimmer.

Twilight was speedily whispering over the hills. All Hallows Eve was upon them, a wicked night for their task. Running a large, weapon calloused hand thru dark hair, the knight momentarily let his thoughts drift to a buxom, golden haired woman and her cozy cottage in the northern most highlands. He pictured Deidre. An experienced woman, she had been left a childless widow by the constant wars with the English. Her teasing blue gaze and dimpled smile often left the knight content and comfortable in her arms.

“Daydreaming again, are ye?” the familiar voice of Munro pulled him from the warm cottage and back to the cold hillside where he sat with his small, yet very capable entourage of men. The knight cut a swift look at his second-in-command before turning his attention back to the large wooden gates. “Aye, there is nothing wrong with thinking about a woman before you ride into battle.” Munro offered, his voice pitched so that no one else could hear. He had been the knight’s closest companion for many years and knew his thoughts were on Deidre.

Munro smiled sadly, recalling his own short year of wedded bliss. His young bride had been lost to a fever before they could celebrate their first year together. “McBlain, are you certain the plan will work?” Munro scratched his thick red beard.

“It will work.” McBlain nodded with assurance. “That English dog will not ignore the opportunity to meet the Scottish king in battle.” The plan had been carefully laid out the night he had met with the King many months before. Bruce had given him the task of reclaiming this particular Scottish border castle. That one night had changed the course of his life. The castle below him would soon be his home.

McBlain remained grim as he stared at the darkening castle below and he once again thought of Deidre. Bruce had granted McBlain the castle. As the youngest son of a poor farmer, all he had dared hope for was a small farm in his old age, assuming battle did not claim him first.

“The gates are opening!” Someone called out from the ranks behind him. McBlain scowled, it must be a new recruit. Trained men in his group knew that silence was crucial to survival.

“Aye, I told you the plan would work.” Munro offered McBlain a wide grin. They watched as the gates to the castle were slowly swung open and men in full battle regalia began to march steadily out. McBlain could feel the tension rolling thru the men behind him. They were desperate for movement.

“Send someone to watch until they cross the bridge.” McBlain ordered as he turned his horse.

“By the gods, Blain, the entire army is marching out!” Munro watched in amazement as the line of soldiers continued to swell out of the castle. “The fool leaves no one to protect the castle!”
“That is what we are hoping for.” McBlain sat stone-faced. “Your kinsman on the inside knows to leave the gate open?”

“Yes, sir.” Munro reported. He had lost his grin and the seriousness of the moment was upon them. “He can be trusted to do so.” McBlain nodded. He knew the man on the inside was a distant kinsman of Munro, and that the men of the Munro clan could be counted on for loyalty.

“It is time.” McBlain whispered hoarsely and gave the signal for the men to march.