Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Wednesday Guest - Lyn Horner
By birth I’m a California girl, but I grew up in Minnesota. Trained in the visual arts, I worked as a fashion illustrator and later as an art instructor for several years. After moving to Chicagoland, I stayed home to raise my children – and soon became desperate for a creative outlet. I’d always enjoyed writing and loved reading historical romances, so I decided to try writing one. This hobby grew into a love of historical research and the crafting of passionate romances based on that research.
Following years of stops and starts, plus a move to Texas, I launched my first Kindle book. And it’s been a wild ride ever since! One day I’m elated over a wonderful review, the next I’m down in the dumps, certain nobody likes my work. Ah, the life of a writer. But that’s enough about me. To paraphrase, the book’s the thing!
Darlin’ Druid is the first volume in my Texas Druids trilogy. This western romance revolves around Jessie Devlin, a daughter of immigrants and a survivor of the Great Chicago Fire. Descended from the "Old Ones," her mother's name for their ancient Druid ancestors, Jessie is gifted, or cursed, with an ability to see into the future. For months she has dreamt of a man who saves her from burning to death. Now a prophetic vision convinces her he is real and sends her west in search of him, but will her quest lead her to love or into a deadly trap?
For Jessie’s had another vision – of a madman with blazing eyes. Does he await her somewhere beyond the horizon?
Darlin’ Druid – Chapter One
The trooper bobbed and weaved, arms raised to fend off blows being rained upon him . . . .
. . . Afraid the young soldier might retaliate, David reached out to grasp the woman’s arms, stopping her in mid-swing. “Ma’am, if you’ll just settle down . . . .”
“Let me go!” she shrilled, attempting to wrench free.
He should have complied with her demand, but some primitive instinct made him slip an arm around her and haul her back against him. A sweet scent of lilacs and woman washed over him, and he instantly grew aware of her feminine curves.
She gasped indignantly. “How dare ye? Bithiúnach! Muclach! Take your filthy hands off me.”
Glad he didn’t understand Irish, David cursed under his breath when she rammed her heel into his shin. It didn’t hurt much thanks to his leather boots; nor did the small fists pounding on his arms. But her frantic twisting sent the wrong signal to his male parts.
“Calm down, you little wildcat!” he growled. Releasing her, he stepped back before he humiliated himself.
Whirling around, the woman drew back her arm as if to slap him, only to freeze when their eyes met. A choked sound escaped her lips and the angry color drained from her cheeks. Seeing her sway, David grasped her shoulders to steady her. Her hands clutched his forearms as he returned her wide-eyed stare.
Her eyes were sapphire blue, so dazzling that he had trouble breaking their hold upon him. When he did, he noticed how young she looked – eighteen or twenty, he guessed – and what a beauty she was.
His gaze wandered over her smooth, creamy cheeks and dainty nose then lingered on her pink parted lips. Forcing himself to look elsewhere, he noted the dark auburn curls framing her brow. Her ugly bonnet hid the rest of her hair, but he bet it would look like silk when she let it down.
Then he noticed how rapidly her breasts rose and fell, and desire surged through him, swift and strong. He felt a loco urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Reluctantly dragging his gaze back to her sapphire eyes, he wondered what had come over her. A moment ago, she’d been mad as a hornet. Now she stared at him as if she were seeing a ghost.
Dazed by the sight of him, Jessie wondered vaguely if she was having one of her visions. Her gaze kept returning to his gray-green eyes. Crowned by dark brows with an eerily familiar slant, they matched those she’d so often seen in her dreams. She hadn’t expected her quest to bear fruit so soon. And the longer she studied his sun-bronzed, square-jawed face, arrow-straight nose and unyielding mouth, the more she doubted he was the one.
Those rakish features were hard, not gentle, and his hauntingly familiar eyes did not caress her like the ones in her dreams. Instead, they devoured her . . .
Kindle book: Darlin’ Druid
Nookbook: Darlin’ Druid