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…are perfect for reading.

Have you read Master of the Fleet?

He’s a weather shaper, controlling the elements wind and water, to keep his ships safe out at sea.

She’s the lovely lady who has captured his heart. But she has a dark secret, which doesn’t come out until she is bound to him by a blood oath and marriage vows.

How about an excerpt?

One evening about halfway through that last week, Anne-Marie looked up into his eyes. He had been morose since dinner, contemplating the journey back to the Côte, and wondering how he was going to cope with the circumstances he now faced.

“Richard, I’m sorry,” she said. “If I could go back and relive the evening of the banquet, knowing what I do now… But I can’t.”

“What do you suggest we do?” he asked angrily. “I’m bound to a woman who will never enjoy being with me, never be excited by my touch or my kiss.”

“I can’t help it, Richard. Maybe, in time, I will enjoy being touched. I don’t know.”

Sighing, Richard shook his head as he twirled the wine in his goblet. “All I ever wanted was for my wife to be my closest companion. In my bed, I hoped to bring her pleasure and make her happy to be my lover. I have no interest in simply using you to relieve my urges.”

“I will try, Richard, but I can’t promise. I never wanted to marry. Not after seeing what the worst of the drunkards do to women. I’ve seen only the scum of the world, not the cream of the crop.”

“I appreciate how you’ve shown affection when we’re out. I know it’s an act, but I appreciate the effort.”

“I’ve always enjoyed being out with you, but I won’t be a possession or a servant. I want to be my own person, not a prized catch to show off.”

“Have I ever treated you that way?” he asked as his temper began to rise.

“No, but now we’re married. The pursued has become the captured, and that can make all the difference.”

That night, when they went up to their room, Anne-Marie went into the dressing room to change for bed. Richard took the spare comforter, a blanket, and a pillow, to make up a bed on the floor.

He finished undressing as she stared at him, with her lips parted and disbelief in her eyes. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought she was disappointed.

“Richard, please,” she tried once more.

“Bonne-nuit, Anne-Marie. Sweet dreams.”

As he tried to get comfortable on his makeshift pallet, he heard his wife get into bed, pull up the blankets, and turn over. A few minutes later, he heard her crying, muffling the sound with the bed clothes. He waited for her to stop, but she continued to sob into her pillow.

“Anne-Marie,” he called softly. “Anne-Marie?”

“Go to sleep, Richard.”

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m fine. Go to sleep,” she answered between choked breaths.

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My latest WIP is set on Esperance and features Ben, the son of the village blacksmith, of Blacksmith’s Forge. His family and the Wills family have been friends far longer than Ben has been alive, and he has always been fond of Deborah, the eldest Wills daughter.

But something happened when he went away for a few years to finish training for his journeyman’s ranking. When he returned to his home village, she was distant, angry, and did her best to drive him away. While he was saddened by her demeanor, it was her choice.

Until her father chose to arrange a marriage for her. And his father suggested he go and talk to Mr. Wills about it.

How about an excerpt from Ben of Blackstone’s Forge?

 

“Come here, little girl,” he said, taking her into his arms. “Why didn’t

you come to me when I got back?”

“I was afraid of him, and afraid of how you would react. I thought you’d

never want to see me again.”

“Is that why you put on the wicked witch act?” he asked.

“Yes. I thought if I drove you away, I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”

Thinking back on growing up in the village, he had to shake his head.

“Deb, who has always been there for you?”

“You have, Ben.”

“And who has looked after you?”

“You again.”

“Who took the whipping for the window you broke out of old Mrs.

Covington’s front room?”

“I’m so sorry, Ben. I would have confessed.”

“Yes, but then you would have got the whipping, and I couldn’t stand seeing you cry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And who climbed twenty feet up a damned tree to fetch down a kitten

who didn’t want to be rescued?” he demanded.

With a giggle, she admitted it was him.

“Yeah. And the little bastard tried to claw his way out of my shirt. All those

little claws hooked into my chest as he tried to climb out. I could have bled

to death.”

“Now, Ben, I got the disinfectant and washed all the scratches,” she

reminded him.

“Which was nearly as bad as the scratches. That stuff burned.”

“It wasn’t that bad. You were just being a baby. I put some healing ointment on afterwards.”

“Which did nothing for the pain, I might add.”

“You are such a wimp, Ben Blackstone.”

After a quiet moment of reflection, he looked over and said, “We had some fun, didn’t we?”

“We did.”

Watch for Blackstone’s Forge.

In the meantime, check out my other Esperance books on Amazon,  Smashwords, or any major bookseller.

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Now that Master of the Fleet is out for Kindle and in paperback, it’s time to start thinking about the next project under this name, Sultonna Nadine.

While I will have other books coming out under Mellie Miller, they are books in my two series. I’m reserving Sultonna for my standalones.

LADY CALLOWAY is already in the process. Another story in an alternate timeline, this story takes place in a London during the late 1800’s. In our story’s timeline, the Church has tremendous control over the citizens in every way. The Church and state are one governing body in the England of the time, and in Europe, which is where our story begins.

Lord Richard Calloway works in a department which liaises between the two halves of the government–the liturgical and the secular sides. His father and most of the men in his family have been confessors–individuals who can read peoples’ minds and correct them, if needed, to abolish heresy.

Liora, Richard’s wife, has been brought up in a small village to the north. Unknown to Richard, she was taught several heretical doctrines, which she still holds. If her heresy gets out, not only will she be subject to confession, he will lose his job, and possibly his life, for not turning her in as a heretic.

Taking time off to finish an interrupted honeymoon may give him the time he needs to help her understand her error and bring her back into the fold. But during their time together, they both begin to develop paranormal abilities forbidden by the church.

When Richard’s father reaches out to him, by means of one of these abilities, to tell him the confessors are coming for the two of them, not only is he confused, he is is now a hunted man with a wife to protect.

Watch here for news about LADY CALLOWAY , from Sultonna Nadine, and for new releases by Mellie Miller.

In the meantime, check out some of my other books, available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million, and Smashwords.

ESPERANCE

Jareth, First Lord–Book 1

Viviane, First Lady–Book 2

MORGAN–The Pixie and the Green Man–Book 3

Talents–Coming Soon!

SPERANZA (Gambler’s Folly)

Gambler’s Folly–Book 1

Dante’s Angel–Book 2

The Russian–Coming Soon!

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Yes, we have a new cover for Master of the Fleet!

And it will soon be available on Amazon!

Wishing everyone a wonderful weekend!

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I hadn’t intended to write a series when I began. I really hadn’t. Things just  got out of hand.

When I originally wrote Jareth, First Lord, I had assumed it would be a stand-alone. But I decided I really wanted to continue on with Viviane’s story.

So I began to write the second book, adding Viviane, First Lady. Which seemed like a good idea, until my editor suggested bringing this book to a quicker end and using the rest to start another book..

(sigh)

I could see her point. It did seem as if I’d decided to end the story, got my second wind, and continued.

So then I had three books. Until I had the idea for another book in the series, which was more a “story in a story.” It focused on one character from Book 1–Morgan.

Okay. Back to Book 3, now Book 4, which continues from where Book 2 ended. Right?

Well, yes. Except I have this fabulous idea for another feature story, like Morgan. Which is a wonderful story, if I say so myself. And while I’m piecing together Book 4 , Book 5–The Blacksmith’s Son–is taking shape.

Of course, during all of this, I’ve been trying to figure out how to end the series. How to tie it all together. Which leads us to at Book 6.

No! Wait! What about this guy? Surely he can contribute to the plot of the series. (Rolls eyes) And so we have another vignette–Gregor Thayne.

Book 6 becomes Book 7.

Gregor becomes Book 6.  I think. Maybe.

No, there will be an end to the series. Someday.

Seriously. But in the meantime, enjoy the stories from Esperance.

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Yes, we have an ice cold drizzle falling here today. I’m sure the rain is good for the garden, but I would love a day or two of sunshine.

How about an excerpt?

From GAMBLER’S FOLLY

Karianna woke to the sound of raindrops on the balcony. She had always liked the rain, and had often taken long walks under an umbrella to enjoy the quiet. Tossing the covers back, she rolled out of bed, put on her dressing gown, and went to watch the rain.

Damiano paced the floor, every inch an angry cat. His kiss was brief and unsatisfying, the hug nearly an afterthought. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nasty weather. Rain is depressing.”

“You don’t like the rain?” she asked.

“No.”

“Can you elaborate? I always thought it was kind of nice. So quiet and restful, unless there’s thunder.”

“Elaborate?” he snarled. “Fine. It is wet, it makes spots on my clothes, ruins my shoes and makes my fur all matted and smelly.”

She couldn’t contain her amusement at the image of a large black leopard dripping with water, ears laid back, and snarling at the sky.

“It’s not funny,” Damiano protested. “First I get wet, and then I have to get even wetter to get clean. Most annoying.”

“But you love to swim or take a bubble bath. Why don’t you like the rain? It’s like a shower.”

“It isn’t anything like a shower. It’s cold, you can’t turn it off, and it makes nasty puddles everywhere.”

“Alright, so we won’t go out sightseeing today. We can stay in and relax.”

“How can I relax with that noise?”

“Really, Dam, it’s not that loud. We can put on some music or watch a movie.” After waiting for some sort of answer, she gave up on conversation. “Fine. I’m making some coffee. If you want any, come in the kitchen.”

Still chuckling to herself, Karianna turned on the tap, let the water run so it would be fresh, and put a coffee packet into the machine. Pushing the button to turn it on, she heard it filling. So she closed the tap in the sink and went in to relax on the sofa until the coffee was ready.

Her usually even-tempered husband stood, arms crossed over his chest, glaring out the glass doors at the pouring rain. If he’d been in his cat form, his ears would have been laid flat against his head, tail lashing.

“Damiano, if you don’t like the weather, draw the drapes and come sit down.” She heard a low, chesty growl in return. “Don’t you growl at me, Damiano Leone. I’ll come over and smack your nose again.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he retorted, his head snapping around.

“Well, I’m not going to stay in all day with a sulky leopard. So either close the drapes and shut out the rain, or go back to bed and sleep it off. But don’t ruin my day being snarky.”

“If you like the rain so much, why don’t you go for a walk and let me sulk? And if you get all wet and filthy, don’t complain to me about it.”

“I do not believe what I’m hearing. One of the most powerful men on the planet, and a great big leopard as well, and you’re put off by a little water falling from the sky? Really, Tiger, get a grip.”

The sound of the coffeemaker turning off got her attention, so she stormed back to the kitchen, trying to control her temper. Pouring a cup of the aromatic brew, she took it back into the living room, so she could stretch out on the sofa.

Sniffing the air, Damiano watched her get comfortable before asking, “Did you bring me any coffee?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“But I always have coffee in the morning,” he said, whining.

“When you can be civil, I’ll bring you some coffee. If you can’t be civil, get it yourself. I don’t cater to spoiled brats. Or cats.”

She might as well have slapped him from the look he gave her. Stomping into the bedroom, he slammed the door. “Well,” she murmured under her breath. “Great big pussycat has his tail in a knot this morning.”

“I’m not a pussycat and my tail is not in a knot,” he shouted through the door. “But I have very good hearing.”

“Then hear this, pussycat,” she shouted back. “You can either get over your damn self, or you’re in time-out. I will not put up with this.”

After her third cup of coffee and a couple croissants, the bedroom door opened and Damiano stepped back into the room. She ignored him.

“Karianna,” she heard, in a gentle, apologetic tone. “I’m sorry, Karianna. The rain and the darkness, they put me in a bad mood.”

“Did you have to take it out on me?” she asked tersely.

“No, cara. That was wrong. The rain is not your fault, and it is good for the growing things outside. Even if I don’t like it, it is necessary.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad morning, lover.”

“It is alright, now?” he asked, so very much like a little boy who was sent to his room until he could behave.

“Yes, come over and sit down,” she answered, patting the sofa with her hand.

Damiano padded quietly over to where she sat, looked down at her with big, questioning eyes and asked, “May I have some coffee now, carissima?”

And don’t forget Book 2–DANTE’S ANGEL

For more info, follow me on Facebook!

https://www.facebook.com/meleighscreations

 

 

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Our daughter, Dawn Krois, is a photographer. So this weekend we got together to do some photos for my author pages. We had a fantastic time!

It was so much fun, I decided to share some of the pics with you!

If you’re in her area and would like a photoshoot with her, here’s her Facebook page!

https://www.facebook.com/rulebreakerediting/

And remember, my books are available at all major booksellers!

https://authorsdb.com/community/8748-mellie-mille

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