One of the best things about my writing gig is all the wonderful friends I’ve made and today I’ve got two of them helping me out! I met Lisa Kessler and Laura Kaye at RT last year, although we’d been online buddies before that as we all write for Entangled Publishing. It was such a blast to spend time with them and get to know them better. Today, Lisa and Laura are helping me out!
Visit with me at Laura’s fabulous blog as I chat about THE PRINCE’S GAMBLE. Leave a comment on that blog and on this one for a chance to win a collectible print copy of GHOST OF A CHANCE, my paranormal ghost romance about an eighty-year old mystery and million dollar prize for solving it!
So without further ado, here’s Lisa!
Hi everyone –
Thanks to Caridad for letting me visit her blog today!
I was excited to help her spread the word about The Prince’s Gamble and her project to raise money for the Jersey Shore. We’re also speaking on a vampire panel together at the upcoming RT Booklovers Convention in May! Woot!
And speaking of vampires… (Nice segue way, right? LOL)
I write the Night Series which involve Night Walkers. They’re similar to vampires, but their origins rest in Mayan mythology instead of the more traditional vampires of Vlad from Romania. Readers can expect tortured immortal heroes and strong heroines. I hope you’ll check them out! J
Night Thief –
After the fall of the Mayan civilization, Kane, an immortal Night Walker, has taken refuge in France for over 800 years. The modern world holds little interest for him until the night he meets the Golden Thief and is robbed of much more than his pocket watch.
Marguerite Rousseau is living a double life. By day she is the assistant to an eccentric French artist, Antoine Berjon, and by night she dons elegant evening gowns to woo French dignitaries before lifting their wallets.
Sparks ignite when Kane captures the thief, but Marguerite harbors a dark secret that could ruin them both.
Night Thief is a prequel to Book 1 of the Night Series. It takes place in Paris in 1840… I hope you enjoy the excerpt!
Kane hurried into the darkness, following her scent. He caught a glimpse of the back of her hair a moment before she disappeared around a corner. He slowed when she paused and then crossed the next street. Kane ducked into the shadows of a darkened cobbler’s shop doorway and waited.
She turned, her blue eyes sweeping the street behind her. With a mask of confidence, she lifted her chin a notch and continued her journey.
Kane kept his distance behind her. Before he crossed the street to follow, a horse and buggy barreled past him. The wooden wheels splashed water onto his polished boot, but he didn’t stop to clean it.
She turned, making her way down a bustling street. Kane shoved his way through the masses in time to see her rush down a shadowed alley, trying each door she passed until one finally opened. He watched her vanish into the rear entrance of a bakery. He approached the darkened building slowly, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention to himself.
When he grasped the wobbly brass doorknob and twisted, the weathered metal squealed in protest. He froze and listened for any sign of movement from within. When he heard no answering sound, Kane pulled the door open and slipped inside.
Traveling down a dimly lit hallway, he found the room opened to reveal large brick ovens. In the far corner, she sat at a table with a single candle, spreading coins and jewelry pieces across the surface. The flame danced in front of her, casting a warm light over her fair skin. He took a quiet step closer, enticed by a stray curl of her golden hair resting on the soft curve of her breast. A crease marred her brow and her lips pursed together as she sifted through her night’s earnings.
“I believe that pocket watch is mine,” he said.
She gasped and popped up from the table. Her surprise melted away quickly, replaced by a well-practiced mask of charm.
“You frightened me, Monsieur.” She plucked up his gold pocket watch from the table. “I found a satchel in the street filled with these trinkets.”
The sound of her voice thrilled him, and he realized he’d been eager to see her again. Strange. He took a step toward her, wanting to feel closer to her, even if only in proximity and only until she fled.
“No, you found the watch on my vest while we danced tonight.”
“You are mistaken, and you insult me.” She lifted her chin slightly, enough to imply her shock at his accusation.
Kane narrowed the distance between them, surprised when she didn’t retreat. Her scent overwhelmed him with an alluring blend of roses and spice as his gaze slowly traveled up her body. Her dress was a rich emerald green color, fitted at the waist, her corset supporting her modest breasts. Even with the oversized skirt and sleeves, she remained a petite flower, though far from fragile.
She wore her golden hair up in a loose knot, with stray curls falling down her neck and framing her large round eyes and high cheekbones. Nothing about her was subtle or forgettable like a thief should be.
When he took the watch from her hand, he noticed a flush of color rising from beneath the velvet choker on her neck. Enticing. “You are a flamboyant thief.”
He never saw the slap coming.
“How dare you!” Her hands balled into fists at her sides.
Kane smiled and reached for her hand, drawing her soft fingers to his lips. Her struggles were nothing against his inhuman strength. Pressing a cool kiss to her knuckles, he stared into her eyes.
“Forgive me for being so rude,” he murmured. “You are the most lovely, delicate, and beautiful thief I have ever seen.”
This time, he caught her other wrist before her slap made contact with his cheek. Her bright blue eyes widened. “Let me go.”
“Not yet.” He tipped his head slightly. “I have a confession to make.”
He released her. “I have been watching you, waiting to make your acquaintance. I wore my watch tonight hoping you might take it from me.”
A crease marred her brow. “Why?”
“Because you intrigue me. I have never met a thief quite like you.”
Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, he thought she might apologize for taking his property.
“I did not steal your watch.” She set her chin. “I found it.”
Marguerite placed the watch in his palm, and she closed his fingers around it. Glancing at his hand, she frowned.
“Your skin is cold.” She released him. “Are you sick?”
He shook his head. “I am well.”
She went back to the table and gathered her other treasures. “It is good fortune that our paths crossed again so that I could return your watch. Sadly, I will still need to find the other owners.”
“We could give the items you found to the police.”
“No!” She snatched up the satchel and hid it behind her skirt. He watched her clear her throat and her composure returned with her charm. “I could not trust another person with these valuables. Tomorrow, I will go back and inquire with the host to see which guests might be missing their belongings. It is the only way to ease my mind and know they will be returned to their rightful owners.”
“How thoughtful of you. With Le Voleur D’or stalking the streets of Paris, they probably fear their belongings are lost forever.”
Her back straightened and her lips pressed together as if she were a royal princess. It was all he could do not to kiss her. What was wrong with him? He should be angered, or in the least, willing to turn her over to the police.
His shoulders tensed at the thought of an officer touching her.
She cleared her throat. “What do you know of Le Voleur D’or?”
He stepped in closer to her and kept his voice low. “I have been told she has golden hair and her beauty is so blinding that no one notices her pluck their wallets from their pockets. I also understand that she charms her victims until they no longer care that she has lightened their coin purses.”
He tipped his head down. The scent of her hair and the sound of her heartbeat enticed him. Kane ached to taste her. Such an unusual woman. He bit back his desire and whispered near her ear. “Is my description far from the truth?”
She met his gaze. The candlelight flickered in the clear sea-blue of her eyes. “Perhaps you were not charmed enough, Monsieur Bordeaux.”
“In my rush to find you, I was nearly run down by a coach.”
She glanced down at the watch in his hand, then met his gaze again. “You do cherish that watch.”
He bent closer to her, until his lips nearly brushed hers. “It was not the watch that I was after.”
Thanks again to Caridad for the blog spot! SO tell me, what makes an immortal sexy? J
Don’t be a stranger…