Playing For Keeps, Book III of The Claddagh Series

Hello everyone, I’m Cynthia Owens and I’m thrilled to announced that Playing For Keeps, Book III of The Claddagh Series, has just been released from Highland Press! Miriam, thanks so much for allowing me to visit the Celtic Rose!

It started with Rory O’Brien and Siobhán Desmond of In Sunshine or in Shdow. Gambler and survivor. Landlord and tenant. A love that couldn’t be denied. It continued with Coming Home, when Ashleen O’Brien showed an Irish-American war hero that you can find a home and a family in the most unlikely place.

And now there’s Playing For Keeps, Katie’s story. This half-Irish beauty has finally returned to Baltimore to visit the family she barely remembers.

She was a descendent of the kings of Ireland ~ but in Baltimore, Katie O’Brien is just “Irish.”

Lucas was the despised younger son ~ a dreamer whose negligence had caused a family tragedy. He’s left his family’s home to prove that he can make something of himself ~ something he wants to be.

Excerpt

 Prologue

Philadelphia, 1850

Luke stared in silent horror as glowing red flames devoured the warehouse.

What have you done this time?

The words resounded through Luke’s brain, condemning and inevitable, in his father’s disapproving tones.

What had he done? He’d secured the warehouses. He had, he was sure of it. He’d made certain all the forges were out.

Hadn’t he? Or had his head been too full of the play he’d been studying in secret, the characters he was determined to flesh out, the pages he’d obsessively filled with his own dreams and interpretations?

Clanging bells and pounding hooves hammered in his ears.

Thank you, God.

But as quickly as relief flared, terror chased close on its heels.

Dear God, was anyone still inside? Tobias, his father’s most trusted clerk—surely he’d left long ago. And the two young men Matt hired last month—hadn’t they spoken of going to The Dancing Horse to spend their first pay packets?

He struggled for breath, the acrid smell of burning wood and molten steel tearing at his throat.

Bleak realization swept through him. It was his fault. It had to be. But it was an accident…

Matthew. Matt would take care of everything. Matt always cleaned up his little brother’s messes, covered up Luke’s many shortcomings.

“Mr. Lucas? Mr. Lucas!”

Dazed, Luke stared in disbelief at the normally impeccable clerk. Tobias had lost his coat, his once pristine white linen shirt was torn and covered with soot. Luke’s gut clenched as he took in the other man’s wild hair, the bloody gash slashed cruelly across one cheek.

“Mr. Lucas!”

Luke grabbed Tobias’s arm, his head thudding, his fingers gripping convulsively. Fear struck ice cold in his heart. His entire body shaking, he ran his dry tongue over his ash-covered lips.

“Tobias, where’s Matt?”

The clerk gazed at Luke, pity darkening his eyes. Tears trailed slowly down his soot-blackened face.

“Mr. Matthew’s dead, sir.”

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The Claddagh Series

Interview with Author MARY GILLGANNON

Mary Gillgannon in Wales.

When I released my historical fantasy The Silver Wheel, I sub-titled it “A Novel of Celtic Britain”. Since then, I’ve had several people comment that they never thought of Britain as being Celtic. To them, Celtic refers to only the fringes of the British islands: Ireland, Scotland and Wales. But the fact is, before the Romans arrived, the whole of the British Isles was inhabited by native tribal groups who shared a culture most people today would recognize as "Celtic". They wore vividly-dyed garments of checked, plaid and patterned wool (which would eventually evolve into the tartan). They adorned themselves with jewelry in complex curvilinear patterns, often in animal motifs. They wore their hair long and often braided. The men were generally unshaven, although some tribes shaved their chins and had long mustaches. They lived in round dwellings in fortified settlements that were often on built on hilltops. They worshiped a variety of male and female deities that were strongly connected with animals and the natural world. Their religious leaders were an educated class who transferred their knowledge orally.


These religious leaders are often called druids, which probably means “from the oak”, and they held their ceremonies in oak groves. They possessed a strong belief in an afterlife and otherworld. They were also reputed to practice human sacrifice. In fact, the initial story idea for my book came from reading about a bog body found near Lindow, England. The body was of a healthy, aristocratic young man (his hands showed he'd done very little manual labor and was healthy and well-nourished). The man had been strangled, had his throat cut and been bludgeoned (the triple death) and was then pushed into the bog. Because the body dates from the time of the Roman conquest of Britain in the early first century A.D., some researchers have surmised that this man was offered as a sacrifice to petition the Celtic deities to aid the British in their struggle against the invading Romans. We know for certain the Celtic Britons made sacrifices of weapons, jewelry and even chariots, as caches of these items have been found in lakes and springs throughout the British Isles.

The Romans characterized the Celts as warlike, boastful and ostentatious, and described them as utterly fearless in battle. The Celts were also known for their love of music and poetry, feasting, drinking, and for constantly fighting among themselves. Throughout history, invading peoples used this Celtic propensity for tribal conflict to their advantage. It can be argued that if the Celts had put up a united front, none of the successive waves of invaders—Romans, Anglo-Saxons, Norse, Normans or English—would ever have been able to establish any control over this region. At the end of The Silver Wheel, when the Roman victory seems inevitable, my priestess heroine sets a spell on the highlands of Wales, calling upon the gods to protect her people from Roman influence and keep their Celtic spirit strong. If you visit Wales today, you will find little evidence of the Romans, while Celtic aspects are everywhere. They still speak Welsh, a Celtic language, and use Celtic patterns in their art and design. They retain a love of music, a strong independent spirit, a mystical connection to the land and a fondness for tales and storytelling, all things that were characteristic of their Celtic ancestors.



Based on that, I think you can say my heroine’s spell was successful!



For more information about her books, visit Mary’s website http://www.marygillgannon.com.

She can also be found on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/mary.gillgannon

Salty Roses: Book Three in the Band of Roses Trilogy

Hi, Pat McDermott here, announcing the arrival of Salty Roses, a rollicking pirate adventure. Arrrrr...

The Band of Roses Trilogy, a series of romantic action/adventures set in modern Ireland, supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 AD and established a royal dynasty the rules Ireland to this day. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble.

In Book One, A Band of Roses, the indomitable warrior princess finds romance and adventure from Ireland to Japan to an eleventh century Ireland, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In Fiery Roses, the residents of rural County Mayo object to plans to run gas pipelines over their pristine bogs. An arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends newlyweds Talty and Neil to an ancient, Roman-like world beset by a waking volcano.

Book Three, Salty Roses, finds Talty a wife and a mother at last. The dynamic heir to the Irish throne believes her days of exotic adventure are all done and dusted, yet her royal duties seem endless, and a day off with handsome husband Neil is looking good. Former naval officer Talty eagerly accepts an eccentric billionaire’s invitation for a jaunt aboard his luxury submarine, but as she and Neil dive beneath the waves to view an eerie shipwreck, a sinister plot unfolds. An unknown enemy lures them to a megalithic tomb in Brittany and sends them to a world infested with treacherous pirates. Talty takes charge of a pirate ship and its mangy crew, while Neil matches wits with a steamy temptress who jeopardizes his wedding vows. As he and Talty fight to save their marriage, they learn that the door to parallel worlds swings both ways.

Excerpt - Neil visits Talty in her Tara Hall office—an office she suspects is haunted.
Muffled thuds whacked the wall on the other side of the door to Talty’s office. Neil cringed at the sound. "How long has she been at it this time, Denis?"
"Not long, sir. Go right in. You’ll be safe enough if you don’t distract her. Shall I call the kitchen for tea?" From his chair behind his paper-strewn desk, Talty’s ever-smiling assistant spoke cheerfully, as if the strange activity on the other side of the door was the most natural thing in the world.

Neil supposed it was, for Talty. "Tea for three, coffee for one, please. Colonel Gale and Major Tomasi are on their way up."

Neil twisted the bronze doorknob and stole into the room. Talty stood on the far side of her office, her back to him, her right arm rocking, her fingers gripping the glinting blade of a throwing knife. The round red bull’s eye on the wall before her looked like a numberless clock with three black-handled knives set at three, six, and nine. A heart-stopping blur later, a fourth juddering knife neatly filled the twelve o’clock spot.

Neil could throw a blade well enough, had learned it as part of his Fian training. Talty had mastered the skill, and many other martial arts, during her Japanese sojourn several years before. He was proud of her, and more than a little in awe of her Shurikendo proficiency.

These knives, a set of four ten-inch carbon steel blades, had been a Christmas gift from her samurai mentor. She claimed that throwing them not only kept her eye keen and relieved stress, it had also helped her regain her sleek, thoroughbred, pre-baby shape.

"So," she said, still facing the target. "Are you enjoying the show?"

"Always, darlin’."

She turned so fast he nearly ducked. "Neil! I didn’t…I’m…How are you?"

If she hadn’t known he was there, to whom had she been speaking? He crossed the room and kissed her. "Having a tough day, love?"

"Tough? Of course not." She plucked the knives from the target, set them on the table, and prepared to throw them again. "I thought my father being back would help lighten my schedule. So I can see my son before he—" Thwack! The first knife pierced the target dead center. "—forgets who I am. And where is my father? In his office with his tailor, looking over swatches of material for new suits. ‘We’re still on vacation, Tal,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t stand that hot sun anymore,’ he says. ‘So I’m taking your mother—’" Thwack! "‘—to Scotland for a week!’" Thwack! Thwack! The knives quivered on the target in a neat vertical row.

Neil stared in admiration. He knew from stolen ISF reports that Talty’s deadly aim had saved more than one life. "Did you tell Uncle-Dad about our submarine outing next Wednesday?"

Again, she pulled the knives from the target, this time carrying them to the wall safe where she kept them. "Yes. He said it was a great idea. Said it’s about time I learned to manage my schedule."

"He’s right."

She stopped. "What? You know very well this isn’t my normal schedule!" Her tone was indignant, her face flushed.

Quickly closing the gap between them, Neil caressed her soft auburn hair. "Tal, what if, God forbid, something happened to your father and it was your normal schedule?"

She met his gaze and sighed. "Then I’d make some serious adjustments. But I’m thinking, Neily. We shouldn’t go on this submarine cruise Wednesday. We should spend the day with the baby."

"We’ve already agreed to go. It’s only for a few hours. Donal is perfectly safe with Nanny Maude."

"He’ll think Maude is his mother. He won’t remember me!"

"Hell, you’re so busy, I don’t even remember you." He’d said it to make her laugh, but she looked as if she’d either start crying or tossing those knives at him. Hustling to derail either development, he squeezed her shoulders and kissed her. "We both grew up with nannies, Tal. It did us no harm, and we both love our parents."

In true Boru fashion, her tiny pout curved into a spectacular smile. She placed the weapons in the wall safe. As she shut the hinged portrait of some medieval Boru prince over the safe, she spoke to the oil painting: "What are you looking at?"

"Tal, are you all right? How long have you been tossing knives?"

Still smiling, she turned from the portrait. "For years, Neily."

"I know that! I meant today. You’re talking to people who aren’t here, darlin’."

"Am I?" She returned to the bull’s eye and closed the small double doors that concealed it. When she’d first found the old dartboard hidden in the paneling, Neil had helped her transform the secret recess into a training target. Besides himself and Talty, only Denis knew her elegant office housed the setup.

"I’ve been practicing about fifteen minutes," she said. "Not long enough." She approached him with one side of her mouth turned up in a provocative smile he knew well. "Did you have some substitute activity in mind?"

His arms slid around her, and hers around him. Her thigh-pressing hug left him struggling to remember why he’d come to see her. "And they call us poor fellas rascals."

* * * * *

Salty Roses / E-book Available from

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Amazon Kindle U.K.

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Author Renee Vincent

I am so happy have for you today, Author Renee Vincent. Her new book, THE TEMPERATE WARRIOR is finally here!

The Temperate Warrior
Book 1 of the Warrior Sagas
By Renee Vincent



Turquoise Morning Press
December 2012
ISBN: 9781622370924

Genre: Historical, paranormal romance, Viking Buy Links: Kindle | Nook | All Romance Ebooks | Smashwords | Turquoise Morning Press | Book Strand



He was her champion. She was his weakness.
Together, they loved with wild abandon.


Blurb:
Gustaf Ræliksen lives by the blade of his sword. After avenging his father’s murder and reuniting with his family, he wants nothing more than to settle down and have sons of his own. Only one woman will do—a fiery redhead he saved from the spoils of war. No longer forced to warm the beds of the men who've taken everything from her, Æsa has nothing to offer the noble warrior but her heart. When someone with a deep score to settle seeks revenge upon her, Gustaf's world is torn asunder. He has but one vow—saving the woman he loves from the ignorant fool who dared to best the temperate warrior.



“Dying a thousand deaths in my head to protect you is better than losing you one time in the flesh. I would never recover if I let anything happened to you.”

His voice was devoid of emotion, monotone as he laid open his heart for her. Most would think he was just being aloof, uncaring as he rattled off sentimental words in an impersonal way. But Æsa knew better. He was not only bearing his soul to her, but doing so the only way he knew how; by occupying his mind and body with a simple task so his heart couldn’t entertain the idea of failure.

 Moved by his words, she stood and made haste to join him on the hide. Dropping to her knees, she laid her hands atop his wrists, impeding his progress with the knife.

His eyes met hers and they stared at one another. Long, heartfelt seconds ticked by as she absorbed the magnitude of his pain. She plucked the tools from his hands and set them at his feet. “I am so sorry for bringing this burden upon you.” Gustaf opened his mouth for rebuttal, but she pressed her finger to his lips, feeding his words back to him. “Yesterday, you were without burden, at peace knowing you had fulfilled your duty as a loyal son. Ready to start your life anew…remember?”

He closed his eyes as if forcing himself to hear her and wait his turn.

“And now, I have thwarted your future happiness with a dark past that follows me everywhere I go. You can deny all you want what I used to be and pretend that I am a woman of worth if it makes it easier for you to accept my shame. But I know what I used to be and I will not let you add me to the list of things you will punish yourself for should you fail. I am not worth it. I am not worth any man’s grief. Or death,” she added.

Slowly, Gustaf opened his eyes and stared at her. His lips drew a straight line across his face. He removed her finger from his mouth and held her wrist in a tight grasp. “May I speak?”

 Æsa nodded, steeling herself for the tongue-lashing she knew would follow. He took his time replying, which was worse than having him berate her on the spot. The look in his eyes foretold of his disappointment, and his quiet reserve prefaced the exceptional temperance this man was capable of.

 “I shall do my best to make myself clear,” he began, his eyes never leaving hers. “We all have a past and oftentimes we have an unfortunate moment in our existence we would rather erase from our memories. But it matters not what we have failed to do, but what we succeed in doing from those failed moments onward. In my past, I have failed to protect my family, as I am the only one left, save for my nephews on Inis Mór. While their deaths, brought about by various regrettable circumstances, were not a direct cause of my own negligence, the burden is still the same. Like you, I face that demon every day of my life.

“That being said, our demons do not become us. They are not the bones and flesh of our bodies, nor the substance of our hearts. They are recollections of what used to be and what is no longer. Your demon—or your previous life as a whore, as you like to beat upon my brow—is not who you are inside. Your worth is diminished only by the demon you place across your shoulders like a royal cloak. Divest yourself of that, my dearest Æsa, and you will understand the depths of my love and the extent to which I will go to protect you. Gladly protect you,” he reiterated. “Until then, you will just have to take my word for it.”





Author Bio:

I am an author with a passionate interest in Irish and Norse history. I live in the rolling hills of Kentucky with my husband and two children on a beautiful secluded farm of horses and hay fields.

I am a sucker for a good cup of coffee (lots of cream and sugar...and whipped cream if I can get my hands on it), great conversation, and a lilting Irish accent. I love to read and I can't resist watching great epic historical movies.

From an early age, I've always had scenes playing out in my head. Whether it was a story with a moral or a tale with a twist, those ideas have never let me sleep until I wrote them out. And considering I have an eclectic ensemble of stories swarming in my brain at any given time, I write under a couple pen names to accommodate the various genre categories. Renee Vincent (Historical & Contemporary Adult Romance) From the daunting, charismatic Vikings, to the charming, brazen Alpha male heroes of modern day, you'll be whisked away to a world filled with fast-paced adventure, unforgettable romance, and undying love. Visit my website at http://www.reneevincent.com/

Gracie Lee Rose (Lighthearted, Fancy-free Women's Fiction) For those who love to read fun, wholesome, and endearing romantic stories that your mother, sister, friends, and daughters can enjoy. Visit my website at http://www.gracieleerose.com/  



Author Links:
Website: http://www.reneevincent.com/
Blog: http://pasttheprint.blogspot.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/reneevincentauthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ReneeVincent
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3005290.Renee_VincentRomance
Blog: http://www.deepintheheartromance.com/

Author Renee Vincent

HAPPY THANKSGIVING 2012!

WISHING A SAFE, HAPPY AND BLESSED THANKSGIVING DAY TO ALL WHO OBSERVE

COMING HOME by Cynthia Owens

Hello to everyone, and especially Miriam, my Celtic Hearts Clan sister and friend. Thanks so much for having me here, and thank you for allowing me to talk about my historical romance novel, Coming Home, the second book in my Claddagh Series. I’m so pleased to be here. AND I’ll be giving away an autographed paperback copy of Coming Home to one lucky commenter. So put the kettle on the hob, settle into your favorite chair, and share some of my memories of Ireland.

Coming Home is the unintentional sequel to my first book, In Sunshine or in Shadow. I hadn’t planned to write a sequel, but the characters called me back to Ballycashel, the tiny, wind-swept West-of-Ireland village where both books are set.

Visiting Ireland was a long-held dream of mine, not just for research purposes, but because I’ve always felt connected to the country somehow. And on July 11, 2009, when the ferry docked in Dublin, I felt I’d arrived at my heart’s true home.

We drove off the ferry and into a curtain of magical mist that turned into a true Irish downpour. It rained steadily throughout the day, as we drove from Dublin to the village of Feakle, in County Clare. Our cottage there could have belonged to Ashleen and Cavan Callaghan, hero and heroine of Coming Home. Its stone walls, thatched roof, and the lovely warm hearth sizzling with sods of turf made me feel as if I’d gone back in time. That night, I sat in a rocking chair before the turf fire, listening to Irish music and just absorbing the Irish atmosphere.

And I felt like a character from one of my own stories.

Naturally a visit to Ireland isn’t complete without touring at least one castle. The first one we visited was Bunratty Castle, located in County Clare. It’s a spectacularly beautiful castle dating back to Medieval times, complete with winding staircases and amazing views from the battlements. It was also a gold mine of research opportunities because it has a folk park designed to look like a Nineteenth Century Irish village. It was at Bunratty Castle that I found Tom Flynn’s cottage. Loop Head House was the cottage of a farmer/fisherman, just like Tom Flynn, one of my favorite characters in Coming Home, and one of my favorite secondary characters in the Claddagh Series. A minor character in In Sunshine or in Shadow, Tom plays a major part in the love story in Coming Home.

On another day, we had the great good fortune to visit Thoor Ballylee, a fortified 13th Century Norman tower, once home to the great Irish poet, William Butler Yeats. The grounds were lovely, the “Winding Stair” dizzying, and the view from the very top of the tower was both breathtaking and terrifying – at least for me, as I’ve always been afraid of heights. We even got to see Yeats’s bed! Three years later, I feel incredibly lucky to have visited Ballylee. The autumn and winter of 2009 were severe, and the tower was damaged by heavy flooding. Sadly, the tower remains closed to visitors to this day.

It was hard to leave Ireland. The green fields, the soft mist, the incredibly friendly people, the atmosphere, was sheer magic. Ireland is like a lover, and once you meet her, she’s impossible to forget. She takes your hand in a gentle clasp, urging you forward into a world of mist and magic. She touches your heart, fires your spirit, and fills your soul with a yearning to remain always.

And I can’t wait to go back!

Miriam, thanks so much for hosting me on your lovely blog!

Leave a comment for a chance to win a signed copy of Coming Home.

And watch for Playing For Keeps, Book III of the Claddagh Series, coming soon from Highland Press!

Book Blurb:
“A woman’s love is strong, more powerful than all the ghosts in Ireland..”

Daughter of an Irish village girl, step-daughter of the landlord, Ashleen O’Brien has lived between two very different worlds. But after a year in America, she yearns to return to the green land that is her heart’s home.

War and betrayal have taken everything from Cavan Callaghan – his home, his family, and the woman he loved. A hero of the Irish Brigade at Antietam, he’s searching for the family he never knew.

Love and deception await Cavan and Ashleen along those emerald shores, as the ghosts of a past that can never quite be forgotten rise to threaten their newfound happiness.

You can find me at my website: http://authorcynthiaowens.com/
On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCynthiaOwens  


Follow me on Twitter: @Cynwrites1
Buy Coming Home here: http://www.amazon.com/Coming-Home-Cynthia-Owens/dp/0983396000/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1303209296&sr=1-1  

THE SOUL OF SCOTLAND

Well, I know of at least one lady who believes the Soul of Scotland is exemplified in this video.

Here is something for your weekend viewing pleasure:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uYPVPIugjzA&feature=related