The Naughty Literati

By Suz DeMello (Guest Blogger)

Introducing the Naughty Literati! Who are the Naughty Literati, you ask? We are a group of steamy romance writers who have banded together to produce excellent stories, stories so hot, so cool, so unique, so special that they deserve special treatment. We plan to give the world--the romance reading world, that is--four anthologies annually--more or less.

Naughty List, our first boxed set, of course has a winter holiday theme, but this is far from your usual vapid fare about kissing under the mistletoe and random sex at office Christmas parties. No--we have stories from the steamiest erotica to the most heart-warming happily ever after. We have medievals and futuristics, ménages and committed couples rediscovering love. You want romance? You want hot sex? We have it all.

And, of course, we also have holiday food, glorious food. And why not? Our winter memories often focus on food, from Halloween candy through the Thanksgiving feast to candy canes at Christmas to Champagne at New Year’s, and hot chocolate anytime.

In Viking in Tartan, my medieval tale of a vampire and clanswoman finding love--and each other--little Clan Kilbirnie celebrates a Yuletide wedding with what were traditional Scottish goodies: roasted lamb with a sauce made of berries and rosemary along with wheat boiled in broth and some haggis. Roasted rabbit and fish from the chilly ponds rounded out the meal, with both a sweet and a savory custard ending all.

Here’s a delicious excerpt:

And that eve, Da joined them, reciting the solemn but joyous words that would bind her to her Viking warrior forever. She glanced around. Their Great Hall wasna so great, but on this afternoon the servants had outdone themselves. They’d cleared away the remains of the previous night’s revelry and decorated every table, mantel and window ledge with fresh evergreen and holly boughs. Their fragrance and bright berries lent a festive atmosphere to the ceremony. Pale moonlight struggled through the few arrow slits uncovered by tapestries.

A fire crackled and glowed, fed by the great Yule log that smoldered in the hearth. She was relieved to notice that because the storm wind had died down, the chimney didna smoke—for they were standing in front of the hearth for the short ceremony.

Clearly aware of the event’s importance, Erland had cleaned his boots, combed his long hair and shaved with a borrowed razor. He had found the largest plaid available and, with her brother’s help, had pleated it into a kilt and wore it belted atop immaculate linen borrowed from her da. The shirt almost fit, Da having gained more than a little weight as he’d aged.

Everyone had washed and was clad in their best. She’d done her part, choosing her finest cyrtel for the event. ’Twas fashioned of a soft red wool that looked especially well with her dark hair and eyes.

Erland looked down, caught her glance and smiled gently, in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. She smiled back, her heart warmed, her pride swelling. Her man was an unexpected treasure. He’d already shown he could defend as well as love her. And he’d managed to get on with Da and Keith, despite his Viking heritage.

What would their bairns be like? Though she was still a mite sore, she could scarce wait to have Erland again and begin their new life.

How everything had changed in less than a day! She found it hard to remember she’d been willing to die rather than be joined to a man she detested. Indeed, she had promised herself she’d never wed, would never allow herself to be used as a pawn in her da’s schemes.

And she hadna. Fate had chosen her man. But how she had fallen so swiftly for Erland?

She wrenched her mind away from her stray, tumbling thoughts when Da wrapped a swatch of Kilbirnie plaid around their crossed wrists, joining them.

They kissed but briefly, with Rhona mindful of her da and brother watching.

The onlookers’ cheers bounced off the hall’s stone walls before everyone broke ranks to hug her and Erland. He looked a bit startled before he accepted the clan’s embrace.

She hoped that amity would continue. Scots and Vikings were fierce enemies, due to the Northmen’s frequent raids. Though the Kilbirnie clan was small and their lands lay in the south and west of Scotland—farther away from Scandinavia—they nevertheless lived in fear of the raiders. The Vikings dominated the islands to the west and north and were a force to be reckoned with.

She shunted all that aside to enjoy her wedding feast. Da had ordered a young sheep, one of the lambs born the previous spring, slaughtered so they ate it roasted with a sauce made of berries and rosemary along with wheat boiled in broth and some haggis. Roasted rabbit and fish from the chilly ponds rounded out the meal, with both a sweet and a savory custard ending all. Everyone noisily crowded around the tables to share the bounty.


You can buy the boxed set here:

Amazon: http://indi.uno/1taThiO
iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/nogyvpe
 Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/naughty-list-2
Google: http://tinyurl.com/nqdnq3k


And here’s a recipe for the custard that Clan Kilbirnie may have eaten that long-ago Yule:

5 eggs
1/2 c honey
2 c fresh milk
1 tsp finely ground sea salt
Ground cinnamon and nutmeg to taste

Mix the ingredients together and bake until firm. In the 13th century, Clan Kilbirnie would not have had ovens, not even a primitive one. So the cauldron containing the custard would have been placed on the kitchen hearth for the baking.

source: http://cookeatshare.com/recipes/honey-custard-524



About Suz deMello

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior editor, working for such firms as Totally Bound and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

--Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
--For editing services, email her at suzdemello [at] gmail [dot] com
--Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/suzdemello
--She tweets @Suzdemello
--Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/suzdemello/
--Goodreads: http://bit.ly/SuzATGoodreads
--Her current blog is http://www.TheVelvetLair.com

Travel: It’s All About the Shopping---18th Century Style

By Suz de Mello (Guest Blogger)

Those of you who follow my blogs (Mom? bro?) are aware that I’ve written two prior blogs about this subject, one when I lived in southeast Asia (http://tinyurl.com/mjrpexn) and one when I spent a year in China teaching English to toddlers (http://tinyurl.com/nxdk5jz).

Weirdly, I’m not a particularly avid shopper. I don’t go malling and don’t view shopping as a pastime. Sometimes it’s okay when I’m in the mood, but usually...not. But when I find myself in a new, exotic city, I love to wander around the stores and see what’s being sold, compare foods, clothes, trinkets to goods I’d find in my hometown.

And thus it might have been for Isobel Kilburn, the heroine of Bridling His Vampire. At age eighteen, she traveled to Edinburgh to enjoy the 1766 social season before she was slated to enter an arranged marriage to Edgar, laird of the neighboring clan, the MacReivers.

Leaving aside the question of what strong-willed Isobel thought about being denied the choice of a mate, what would she have seen in the Edinburgh shops? How might she react?

Though Isobel was a high-born young lady from a wealthy clan, Kilburn Castle is located in the far northwest of the Highlands, far away from any town or city of substance. So imagine: before she arrived in Edinburgh, Isobel had never seen a shop. She would have seen goods for sale at fairs or other gatherings, but such events would have been few at remote Kilburn.

So the first wonder for Isobel would have been the city itself. And even now, in the 21^st century, Edinburgh is a wonder and a joy. I’ve been there a couple of times, and it’s a lovely city. Then, however, Edinburgh had the undesirable reputation as the dirtiest and most crowded city in Europe.

Let’s get back to the question: what would have been sold in the shops of 1766 Edinburgh?

At the time Edinburgh was the center of the Scottish Enlightenment. From the 1740s onward, the city came to be seen as a center of forward thinking, especially in the areas of economics, history, science, philosophy and medicine—a new medical branch had been formed at the university there in 1726. So bookstores and coffeehouses flourished. Having been educated by her governess, Alice Derwent Kilburn (the heroine of Desire in Tartan), Isobel would have been capable of participating in the intellectual discussions of the time. But ‘tis unlikely she was interested—her main pursuits at Kilburn were riding unbroken horses and getting into trouble.

And, though the city was unmarred by excessive industrialization, a linen weaving works had been established in Canongate. So drapers—what we’d call fabric stores—abounded.

And what was the nature of the city? Wealthy and cultured. Several major banks were headquartered there. Music was popular and the Edinburgh Music Society established in 1728. Many improvements were made during the time Isobel visited. And improvements were needed—as I mentioned, Edinburgh was thought to be one of the most crowded and unsanitary cities in Europe. However, the overcrowding threw all social classes together—lords might live in the same tall row-house as a chimney sweep.

But the improvements changed that to a certain degree. The newer parts of the town were seen as more desirable than the older quarter, where the poor remained while the wealthier moved on.

I hope I’ve intrigued you enough! If not, here’s what the story is about:

Bridling his Vampire by Suz deMello:

Scotland, 1766.

Edgar, Laird MacReiver, has never regretted his decision to wed Isobel, daughter of Clan Kilburn’s laird, until she bites his tongue and drinks his blood. Still, he's determined to bridle the wild child of the infamous vampire clan by any means necessary, including bondage and discipline.

But are some women impossible to tame? 

Available at http://www.ellorascave.com/bridling-his-vampire.html

About the author:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

--Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

--For editing services, email her at suzdemello@gmail.com

--Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift, and visit her group page at https://www.facebook.com/redhotauthorscafe

--She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun and @Suzdemello

--Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/suzdemello/

--Goodreads: http://bit.ly/SuzATGoodreads

--Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

Why do we love vamps?

By Suz DeMello (Guest Blogger)

In a word: because they’re hot!

Like great chocolate, vampires are smooth, seductive and dangerous. They're invariably wealthy because they prey upon whoever they please and can steal for a living if they choose. Anne Rice's Lestat is the classic example.

And many female fans enjoy the fantasy of losing control to a sexy, dominant male. On top of that, our culture worships the young and the beautiful.

In my writing, I emphasize not only the vampires’ sensuality, but also their unnatural strength and speed. In Blood is Thicker... my heroine works as a PI. In one scene, she leaps with ease onto the roof of an apartment building.

In my Temptation in Tartan, the hero is the laird of a clan full of vamps. When the heroine is attacked, he tears off the head of his enemy and drinks the blood, an event which startles the heroine, who has never even heard the word “vampire.”

In Highland Vampire, the descendant of vamps valiantly protects the heroine even though his blood has been diluted by the passage of many years.

Oh, and yeah: he’s hot.

Blood is Thicker... a short story by Suz de Mello

(previously Immortal Hunters)

Genre: Paranormal action-adventure.

A century-old vampire, Rama is used to shadows and loneliness. 

She uses the name Hestia White and lives in a coastal town working as a private investigator. If some bad guys disappear on her shift, no one cares…until John van Helsing shows up. Bearing the name of the vamps’ greatest foe, he interferes in her case and in her life.

Friend, lover or enemy?

Here’s a little excerpt from Blood is Thicker...

...he gave me his pussy-warming smile, then leaned forward and kissed me. He thrust his tongue into my mouth, and when it scraped past my sharp canines, I tasted his blood.

Yes. I sucked greedily. Sweet. Rich. John was a vampire, and he’d fed recently on young, healthy prey. I let myself drown in that lushness for a moment. It suffused my every cell with rapture, energizing me even though I went weak from pleasure. Then I returned the favor, pushing my tongue into his mouth and searching for his canines, deliberately pressing into their edges to give him a part of myself, my blood. The tiny cuts would heal quickly, while the mingling, the sharing would last forever.

An otherworldly tingle started in my lips and tongue, spreading over my flesh like magic rainbows dancing over my skin. All-encompassing pleasure wrapped me in ecstasy. His kiss transported me into another world, a private, magical universe of bliss. For a brief moment, nothing and no one else existed. Desire flamed into violent life, capturing me with unbreakable bonds. My clit quivered, and my pussy clenched with need. I reached for John, grasping his jacket’s lapels, uncaring when I gripped so tight that my greedy, needy fingers tore the gray gabardine.

I cannot begin to describe the communion that’s created when two immortals connect. Kissing is like an orgasm not only of the body, but of the mind and soul as well. (Yes, we have souls, unnatural though they may be).

I tugged him closer, frantic to feel his chest against mine, desperate for his cock to enter me. It had been so long... Besides, up close and personal, John’s sheer masculinity overwhelmed me. I’d forgotten how seductive lust could be. I could become addicted to his kiss, the hard planes of his body beneath my questing fingertips, his raw animal blood-scent.

I wanted to kiss John forever, and make love with him throughout eternity, but I was wary of becoming ensnared. We immortals are a suspicious lot. We don’t love very often. We fear our fellows, and with good reason.

John could kill me. The tiny sips we’d shared were tasty, but my heart’s blood would make him immensely powerful.

Buy it here: http://www.ellorascave.com/blood-is-thicker.html

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. 

She also takes private clients. 

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists. 

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

For editing services, email her at suzswift [at] yahoo [dot] com

Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift, and visit her group page at https://www.facebook.com/redhotauthorscafe

She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun and @Suzdemello

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/suzdemello/

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/SuzATGoodreads

Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

The Plusses, Perils, and Pitfalls of Pseudonyms

By Sue Swift/Suz DeMello (Guest Blogger)

A lot of writers use pseudonyms. But everyone knows that—everyone is pretty sure that Rhiannon St. Cyril is not someone’s birth name.

When I started publishing books, I didn’t use a pseudonym. My first book, Hopelessly Compromised, bore “Susan Swift” on the cover. Why? Well, that’s my name, and as one of my writer compadres put it, “I don’t see the point of writing a book if people don’t know I did!” (Sweetie, the point is the royalties. And the joy of creation.)

I got that—we want folks to know that WE DID IT. We climbed the mountaintop—i.e. wrote the book, which was pretty dang hard.Then we had the onerous work of finding an agent or a publisher. Also difficult. Damn straight we want people to know!

However, my first book-signing prompted a change in my pen name. “Susan Swift” is really long to write out a hundred times. At least it seemed like a hundred. Okay, maybe twenty. Okay, a couple members of my family and some friends showed up. Whatever.

In any event, my next books were published as “Sue Swift,” which was fine. They were light, sweet Silhouette Romances, and though “Sue Swift” is not a really romancey name—certainly not like, say, Adriana Featherington—it worked fine. Sue Swift fits nicely on book covers. It’s easy to remember and fast to write at a signing.

Then I started to write erotic romance. And not just any kind of erotic romance. My erotica tends to be dark, the heroines explorative and the heroes more than a bit wicked—but in a very hot way.

My sweet romance readers needed a pseudonym. Or so I was told by my writer buddies. That way fans can tell which books are gentle romance and which are over the top, and make their purchasing choices accordingly.

But what did I want to be called?

I’ve always been a busy, energetic, somewhat anxious person, and my name, Swift, reflects that. But it’s healthier to be relaxed.

So Suz deMello was born. Sue the mellow—just the person I wanted to become.

But a pen name is not all sweetness and light. Sure, it’s good for the reader, but what about me? I have to have two sites, which are linked by a common portal page to allow cross-pollination—you know, so readers who might want to read both styles can find all my books. But when it comes to promotional efforts like, say, a Goodreads presence or a Twitter feed—what do I do? Have TWO Twitter feeds? I can hardly keep up with one! Two blogs? No thanks, one’s enough.

So with every promo effort, I have to decide who I want to be: Sue or Suz. That’s hard since I am Sue and Suz, and I don’t like living with a divided self.

Suz has been very successful. Her most recent book is Queen’s Quest, which is now in its third printing—fifth if you count the number of times it’s been released in both e- and print formats. If you like futuristic erotica, this is the book for you. But be warned! This novel is not for the fainthearted. If your fantasies are a little rough-and-tumble and your fantasy lovers are true men, then maybe, just maybe, you can handle Queen’s Quest.

What’s it about, you ask?

Janus is a planet which lacks both tilt and spin, and its Shadowlands are the pewter band of dusk dividing the violently hot Lightside of the planet from its Darkside, imprisoned by eternal night. Because of the peculiar conformation of the planet, birthrates are low and indiscriminate mating encouraged.

Audryn, Queen of Shadow has reached that time in her life when she must choose a King to rule with her or fail to bear an heir, casting not only her realm but all of Janus into chaos.

Despite her duty, she is reluctant to share power, even a bit distrustful. Janus’ nobles vie for Audryn’s hand. Although she enjoys trysting with all her suitors, none seize her heart.

Then Storne, the warrior Prince of Darkness, arrives to claim her as his bride.

Will his masterful ways allure or repel the willful Queen?

And here’s a little bit about me.

Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written seventeen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. She also takes on private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she's working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.

Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.

Vampires in Kilts: What's Not to Love?

By Suz De Mello (Guest Blogger)

Friday marks the publication of my sixteenth novel, Desire in Tartan. It’s the sequel to my best-selling Temptation in Tartan, but works well as a stand-alone though it’s part of my multi-book series, Highland Vampires.

How did I come to write a series about Scottish vampires?

I sold a short story, Highland Vampire, to Harlequin Spice Briefs in 2009. Buoyed by this success, I decided to write a related novel. HV is a contemporary erotic romance, and I couldn’t see a sequel. Futuristic Scottish vampires are beyond my imagination! So my sequels are prequels, as J.R.R. Tolkien might say.

One related novel became three with another planned, as well as a couple more short stories that are available—a list of the Highland Vampire stories with links appears at the end of this blog.

Set in 1759, Desire in Tartan follows the romance of Dugald Kilburn and the woman he hires as a governess to Laird Kilburn’s children. Innocent Alice Derwent is unaware she has been hired by a vampire clan to tutor their children, and must struggle to adjust to life in the Highlands, as well as to Dugald’s rough loving—there’s more than a hint of BDSM in this book. Here’s a snippet:

“Ye closed yer eyes, didn’t ye?”

Alice awakened to find herself face down, stretched out on the bed next to her husband, who was idly playing with strands of her hair. Occasionally he’d slide cool fingertips down her spine and burrow into the crevice between her bottom-cheeks, which felt damp and sticky. His seed?

She wasn’t going to answer that question. ‘Twould be foolish. Instead she said, “You seem quite interested in my bum, sir.”

“Answer me question.” He slapped her lightly, which didn’t sting.

“I, er, I…”

He spanked her harder, which did sting. “Answer. Now.”

“Um, yes.”

“Well, well, well.” Each word was punctuated by a slap. “Ye do ken that you must obey yer husband, do ye not?”

She gasped. “Ye-es, I do.”

“And yet, ye closed yer eyes when I specifically told you ‘no.’” Another six slaps, delivered briskly, three on each cheek.

“Ow!” The spanks stung, and heat bloomed, sinking toward her quim.

He set both palms on her and squeezed. She moaned and wriggled. She shoved one hand beneath her, questing for her bump.

“That’s right, kylyrra. Play with yerself… This stirs ye, does it not?”

She nodded.

“Answer me.” He striped her thighs with a series of quick, harsh slaps.

“Yes! Yes!” She writhed beneath his hand, wishing he’d stop, wishing he’d play with her body forever.

“Good.” He stopped and rolled off the bed then went to the door.

“You’re going to leave me like this?” She was a ball of frustration. A stinging, sore ball of frustration.

He looked back at her and laughed. “It’s time to dress for dinner. I’m orderin’ us a bath.”

Alice scrambled to cover up.

***

One of the difficulties I encountered was that when I started the series, I had not visited Scotland for several decades. Though I was pretty sure that the Highlands hadn’t changed much, I initially refreshed my memories via the internet, but managed to get “across the pond” in October 2010, and that trip was really helpful. I bought the postcard of a painting by Alexander Nasmyth that looks exactly like the Kilburn Castle of my imagination—the real place is called Tantallon Castle. I saw a famous painting of a skater that inspired a skating scene in Desire. Walking around Glasgow, where the first scenes in the book were set, brought them to vivid reality as I imagined the lives of those who’d worked, loved, brawled and drank there 250 years ago.

And merely seeing the Highlands was inspirational. I’m deeply affected by the places I visit, and many end up as settings in my novels. I once wrote a book set in Alaska while on a cruise there—if you ever have an opportunity to see Alaska, go—it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and I travel a lot.
 

Oddly, although I’ve spent substantial time in Asia, I’ve never written a novel set there. Britain inspires me more than any other place.

I hope that some of the love I have for that magical island shows up in some of my stories. Here’s the Highland Vampires series—just those that are currently available—more stories are in the works, including a medieval, a Regency and a steampunk.

Temptation in Tartan (1747) http://tinyurl.com/ScotVamp1

Desire in Tartan (1759) http://www.ellorascave.com/desire-in-tartan.html

Angel Laird, Vampire Wife (1766) http://bit.ly/AngelVamp

This story will be offered FREE at Amazon July 12-16!

Highland Vampire (contemporary) http://bit.ly/HighlandVamp

And here’s a little about me:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com

Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift, and visit her group at http://www.facebook.com/HotWriters

She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun

Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

Angel Laird Vampire Wife

[Like vampires? Below, Suz de Mello is sharing a long excerpt from her new vampire book. Have fun! ~ Lisabet]

Blurb

Edgar, Laird MacReiver, had never regretted his decision to wed Isobel, daughter of Clan Kilburn’s laird…until she bit his tongue and drank his blood. Will tying her hands, spanking her rump and making her come tame the wild child of the infamous vampire clan?

Or are some women too dangerous to tame?

Kilburn Castle, Scotland

1766

Some said that Edgar, Laird MacReiver, had made a deal with the devil. And not just an ordinary deal, for he’d agreed to marry the devil’s daughter.

Lacking a superstitious cast of mind, he’d never regretted his decision to ally with Clan Kilburn until this moment. Atop the battlements, he disregarded the noontime sun glittering over the sea, the fresh spring breeze off the water and the white clouds scudding through the sky. Instead, he watched the scene below him.

Down in the castle courtyard, a young woman struggled with a horse. Not just any young woman. She’d been betrothed to him before her birth. And not just any horse. Isobel, now eighteen, grasped the bridle of Ranger, a buckskin stallion, the pride and joy of Edgar’s heart.

She wrestled with a reluctant Ranger before swinging long legs clad in trews over the steed’s back. Clinging to his mane, she somehow kept her seat while the stallion curvetted and spun. Her hat flew off and her braid loosened, the black hair whipping ‘round as Ranger sought to dislodge her.

Another neigh and a leap before the horse dashed out of the open gate. His hooves clattered on the drawbridge as he galloped over the moat. Isobel clung to his back like a flea unwilling to give up its perch on a dog.

“I ordered her not to ride Ranger,” Edgar said with some disbelief and more resentment. “He’s too big for her. And he’s young, not quite broken. The only rider he tolerates is me.”

“Our Isobel is a bold horsewoman.” Kieran Kilburn cocked a dark brow at Edgar. “She doesna like to admit that there’s a steed on this earth that she canna master.”

Though nearing his fiftieth year, the Kilburn chieftain hadn’t sprouted even one gray hair. No wrinkles marred his smooth, unusually white skin, save those that were the product of his constant smile. All the Kilburns shared the same traits: tall and strong, with midnight black hair and eyes. In comparison Edgar often had felt like a little white mouse, at least until he grew and the lassies started to take an interest in his fair hair and blue eyes. Then he’d realized that his different looks were an advantage.

An advantage, that is, with everyone but Isobel.

“She obeys you.” The wind loosened the leather thong tying Edgar’s hair at the nape. He tightened it. “Why not me?”

Kier’s eyes twinkled. “She obeys me, laddie, because I punish her when she does not.”

“May I borrow your Dash?” Frowning, Edgar turned to descend into the courtyard with Kieran following.

“Aye, but don’t count on Dash to catch his son.”

“We’ll do our best. Thank you, sir.” He handed his blue jacket to a guard and mounted the buckskin. “I go now to find my bride. I hope she’ll return suitably chastened.”

With a shrug, Kier folded his arms over his chest. “Ye ken what ye have to do.”

* * * * *

Edgar caught up with Isobel and Ranger in the forest. The horse now ambled rather than raced, the trees bordering the meadow surrounding the castle having slowed his flight. Edgar eased Dash into a walk and splashed through a brook while watching Ranger manage Isobel.

The stallion apparently decided that he no longer would tolerate even Isobel’s light weight and proceeded to use a low-hanging branch to scrape her off. She landed flat on her back with a grunt. Ranger headed toward the stream and the new green grass beside it, thank the gods, instead of trampling the silly wench under his hooves.

Her laughter could be heard even from several yards away. “La! What a ride! I’ll tame that mount yet.” She sat up and rubbed her back.

Still on horseback, Edgar towered over her. “The only mount who needs taming is you. No harm done, milady?” He was pleased that he kept a mild tone of voice, because inside he was seething.

“None.” She smiled up at him, her black eyes twinkling through the curtain of her lashes.

Bewitching, but he hardened his heart, determined that he’d not be led by the nose. He didn’t like managing females, and if he allowed her to rule him now, she’d rule him forever. “Whatever possessed you to steal Ranger?”

“I didn’t steal Ranger. I borrowed him.”

“Against my express wishes. If your clumsiness has harmed him, Isobel—”

“My clumsiness?” She leapt to her feet.

He gave her a long, cool stare before turning away. He chirruped to Ranger, who raised his head from the sweet grass by the stream. Still chewing, he walked sedately to Edgar.

He dismounted to caress his horse’s forehead before running his hands along the neck and body. Something hot and red billowed in Isobel’s chest. What was it? ‘Twas the same uncomfortable feeling she got when her younger brothers or sisters claimed too much of their parents’ attention. The same horrible emotion that overcame her when other lassies dared to flirt with Edgar…which happened more frequently than she liked.

Jealousy.

She was jealous of the attention Edgar was giving to a horse. A horse.

Bloody hell.

Removing his gloves, Edgar slid expert fingers up and down each of Ranger’s legs, paying particular attention to the delicate fetlocks.

She wondered how those long, tanned, strong fingers would feel if he touched her. When he finally touched her. So far he’d kept his distance even though they were affianced, a fact which she both liked and resented.

He straightened with a sigh. “No harm done. You were lucky this time, my girl.”

“Your girl? Since when am I your girl?”

He led the horse back to the stream and dropped the reins. Ranger drank placidly. Standing in the water with tail a’swish, he seemed completely unlike the wild beast she’d sought to tame. Dash joined him.

Edgar eyed the horses, then eyed her. “You’ve been mine since before you were born.”

“I mislike your manner, sir. I am yet unmarried. I belong to no man.”

“You belong to me.” He returned, looming over her, tall and blond and impossibly beautiful. The Angel Laird, the lassies called him. Well, they could have him.

“I willna be ordered. I willna be treated as though I’m a possession.”

He took her by the shoulders. “But you are.”

His mouth descended on hers while one hand seized the back of her head, holding her fast. She couldna resist, and didna want to, for she’d yearned for this moment.

*****

Angel Laird Vampire Wife is available from:

http://tinyurl.com/VampireWife (USA)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Angel-Vampire-Kilburn-Vampires-ebook/dp/B009PUR0F4/ (UK)

http://www.amazon.de/Angel-Vampire-Kilburn-Vampires-ebook/dp/B009PUR0F4/ (Germany)

http://www.amazon.fr/Angel-Laird-Vampire-Wife-ebook/dp/B009PUR0F4/ (France)

Bio: Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists. A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she's working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.

Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.

Temptation in Tartan

[I've got a sneak peek for you today from Suz DeMello's new vampire book, Temptation in Tartan. I had the pleasure of meeting Suz last year at the Romance Times convention. Believe me, she's one of a kind! Enjoy! ~ Lisabet]

Blurb:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors' ferocity.

She was wrong.

Excerpt, Chapter One

“The Kilborns are great warriors, rumored to be descended from Viking berserkers.” Colonel Swann paced the drawing room, his boots soundless on the thick rugs.

Lydia’s belly clenched and she drew a frightened breath. “Berserkers!The savages who raided our shores, murdering monks and, er…attacking women?”

The colonel stared at her as though a potted plant had decided to speak. Not surprising, since Lydia had always been known in their family as the quiet one.

“The same,” he said. “And the Kilborn clansmen have intermarried for generations. Animals.” He tugged at his tight cravat. Out of uniform, dressed as a town gentleman, Lydia thought her cousin lost some of his edge. Scowling, he continued, “By this marriage we seek to dilute the Kilborn blood and weaken the line.”

“Weaken the line, sir?” Lydia’s mother, Henrietta, raised a brow. “Do you suggest that my daughter’s lineage is flawed? Ours is one of the noblest families in the kingdom.”

“True,” he said. “By adding Lady Lydia’s noble blood to the Kilborn line, we will civilize the wild Highlanders.”

Lydia tried to look civilized and noble, but couldn’t stop twisting the handkerchief in her lap. She rubbed its black edging, a reminder of her status as a widow. “You want me to marry an animal. A barely civilized wild man.”

“The Crown would take your selflessness as a particular favor,” her cousin said.

She lifted her brows. “Indeed.” As a general’s daughter, duty pulled at her blood.

“‘Tis a perfect solution. ‘Tis easier to pacify by marriage than by the sword. All parties will benefit.” His glance strayed to the bodice of Lydia’s gown. In half-mourning, she wore gray muslin trimmed with black piping. “You must desire children. The Highlander is doubtless, uh, lusty.”

She pursed her lips. She’d loved William, but hadn’t grasped why others made such a fuss about marital relations. But she did want children and had planned to have several. “You want me to marry a warrior who may have killed my husband at Culloden Moor,” she said. “I can’t do that.”

Colonel Swann remained silent but looked uneasy as Lydia’s mother crossed the room. “Your late husband,” Henrietta said and sat on an ottoman next to Lydia.

When her mother took Lydia’s hand, she couldn’t control the trembling. At eighteen, she knew she simply wasn’t brave.

Unlike her mother, who now peered into Lydia’s eyes. “Child, what else will you do? Of course, as a widow, you can refuse. But another marriage may make you happy.”

“Do I have to marry a wild Scotsman? Leave my country and everything I know?”

“Of course not. But you are already acquainted with all the other eligible males of our class, and chose William over all.”

“That’s so.” Lydia remembered her days of attending parties and balls in London a scant three years ago. She sighed.

“You’ll bring great wealth,” the colonel said. “And by your marriage, Kilborn will be spared the pacification efforts that other clans and chieftains suffer. You’ll be valued and honored.”

“I have my portion and William’s, but I am not particularly wealthy,” Lydia said.

“Not by London standards, but for an impoverished Highland chieftain, you are a rich prize.”

“Lovely.” Lydia stood and walked to the window, her voluminous skirts rustling.

Below in the garden, she could see her brother playing with one of his sons. She watched George pick up Andrew, toss the giggling child into the air and catch him before they collapsed in a laughing heap together on the sunlit lawn.

Her heart tripped. She might never see George and Andrew again. But she might become that happy parent, could have babies of her own to enjoy.

She turned to face her mother. “I’ll do it.”

Kieran, Laird Kilborn, strode along the upper wall-walk of his castle, his mood as dark as the midnight sky above. Below him, the sea crashed with the threat of a storm. His retainers scattered at the sight of their new laird’s frown, for Kieran was known to show his temper. His own father had borne a scar on his forehead from a tankard a young Kieran had thrown when the princeling had been but four.

Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose, staring out over Clan Kilborn’s crofts and lands, lit only by moonlight. His lands, now, following the deaths of his father and older brother at Culloden. An unexpected burden—his lands and his responsibility.

“Ye could look forever, but nothing will change.” Euan’s soft voice intruded upon Kieran’s dangerous mood. “That is, nothing will change unless ye marry the Sassenach lassie.”

Kieran turned, remembering to soften his frown. No one else would dare to disturb his thoughts, but Euan was different. The castle’s steward, he’d been old when Kier was born.

“Aye, the reprisals are cruel.” Kieran rubbed his hand over the sturdy stone battlement.

“They will only get worse. The Sassenachs are determined to break all of the Highlands and to destroy the clans who supported the bonny prince. ‘Tis a stroke of luck that the Swan wants you to wed the lassie.”

“Why, though? What’s the benefit to the Sassenach colonel?”

The smaller man shrugged. “We are a remote holding. ‘Tis easier to pacify us by marriage than by war, and far less costly.”

“I’ll never give up tartan or sword.” A thin, chilly breeze lifted Kieran’s dark hair off his shoulders. He drew his plaid, vividly patterned in red, yellow and two shades of blue, more tightly around him.

“Wed the Swan’s cousin and ye will nae have to.”

“I had not thought to wed yet, with everything so…unsettled.”

“Truly? There’s a certain lassie who’s set her cap for ye.”

“Grizel?”

“Er, I was thinking of Moira.”

“Oh, that one.” Kieran dismissed Moira with a wave of his hand. “She must know that Culloden changed everything, including her expectations.”

“Ye must secure the succession.” Euan’s dark, haunted eyes searched Kieran’s face. “I promised your father that I would see to it.”

“And would he have wanted me to marry outside our blood?” Kieran asked. His grand-uncle Euan knew more of the secrets of his family than did Kieran himself.

“Possibly not.” Euan looked troubled. “But marriage to the Sassenach lady will provide money, safety and heirs.”

“And what shall I do when the dark thirst takes me? Succor myself at my lady’s throat?”

“There are other ways.” Euan’s eyes were hooded and unreadable in the moonlight. “Other women—”

“No! ‘Tis like unfaithfulness. What of my honor?”

“There is no honor when the dark curse seizes us.”

“I must find a way, for the clan.”

“Then ye’ll marry the Sassenach wench?”

“‘Tisn’t so simple.The laird’s consort isnae merely a juicy quim or a fertile ewe. She must be more.”

Euan shrugged. “She’s a widow, managed her own household.”

“Hmm.” Kieran took a deep breath of the midnight air, scented with the tang of the nearby sea and the crofters’ hay. “Aye then, I’ll do it.”

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BIO: Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and reached the top ten on a bestseller list.

A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she's working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.

Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift).