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Dmitri Ivanovich Volkov.

He is known as The Russian.

He is a werewolf.

During his lifetime of over 500 years, he has served in the military of many countries, and  worked as a mercenary. He currently works for Interpol’s special division, alongside Damiano, Dante, and the rest of the gang.

But after losing his soul-mate two hundred years ago, he has avoided any serious relationships. Until now.

How could this tiny blond with hazel eyes turn his world upside down?

Watch for The Russian, coming soon from Speranza and Gambler’s Folly!

The next morning he met Dam, Marco, Paulo, and several of the others at the Interpol offices.

Damiano had been “picked up for questioning” earlier in the morning, to keep his cover intact.

As they waited in the break room for the chief to call them back, Dmitri told the others about

meeting his mystery woman the night before.

“I swear to you, I can’t get her scent out of my mind,” he stated as the others laughed in

amusement.

“I had to send my clothes to the cleaners last night.”

“Ah, well,” Marco said. “At least it will be a trip to remember.”

“Definitely,” Dmitri agreed. Sniffing the air, his eyes narrowed as he caught an all too familiar

scent.

“Lilacs and vanilla. She is here. My Danni is here.”

Spinning around, he charged out of the break room toward the accounting department.

Coming through the door, with an armload of files, was Danielle Peters, one of their accountants.

“Danni!” they all heard.

With a quick snap, her head turned toward the crazy Russian, and file folders cascaded to the

floor as she rushed to meet him.

“Dmitri! Why are you here?” she asked, with her arms tightly around him.

“Why are you here? I work for the agency.”

“So do I–in accounts.”

The next thing he knew, he was drawn into a kiss more passionate than the one the night before.

“Dima,” he heard. Intoxicated by the scent and taste of this sweet little female, he turned to stare

into Damiano’s eyes. “I see you’ve met our Danni.”

With a growl, Dmitri answered, “She is not your Danni. She is mine.”

“I am not a threat, my friend. I’m already mated. What I mean is, she is the Danni who works here

in the office with us.”

“I had no idea,” Dmitri answered.

Danni clung to him as if her life depended on it. Looking down into hazel-green eyes, he once again traced her face with his finger before his thumb

caressed her bottom lip. Once more, he leaned down to kiss those pouting lips

and taste the sweetness that was Danni.

“Dmitri Ivanovich! Leave the staff alone and get your shaggy wolf ass in here!”

The chief was irritated.

The growl caught everyone by surprise and shocked the entire office into silence. It was the

sound of an irritated dire-wolf.

“I have arrangements to make. I’ll be there when I’ve finished.”

“Dima! What the hell has gotten into you?” the chief asked.

The growl was louder this time and more menacing. Turning back toward Danni, Dmitri said,

“We need to talk later. But right now, I have an old bear to deal with. I’ll come for you after work.”

Holding her closely, he kissed her again, reveling in the passion she returned. Retreating gently,

he looked into her haunted eyes.

“Mishka,” she said, about a second before she fainted.

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This is the question people always have. What was the inspiration?

Most of my story ideas came from dreams–recurring dreams which wouldn’t stop until I’d written the scene. These stories include all the Esperance books and a couple of my stand-alones.

One–Gambler’s Folly–came from a folk song I heard about a man winning his wife in a card game. I got to wondering how that could happen now, or in the future.

The next story in the Gambler’s Folly series, The Russian, was inspired by a face. I decided the person involved  looked like someone who could be a werewolf and wondered how he would fit into the series.

And Master of the Fleet?

Well, I have at various times been involved with the SCA–Society for Creative Anachronism. Taking inspiration from the feasting and tournaments, my mind wandered from there to choreographing sword fights. Somewhere along the way, staging a fake sword fight as part of the entertainment at a feast began to play around in my head. But what if the fight wasn’t staged? What if it was real?

And that is the idea I built the first part of Master of the Fleet around. The wealthy owner of a shipping firm hoping to marry a successful seamstress agrees to take her home for the festival season. What he doesn’t know is that she is only playing him for what she can get, never intending to marry.

At the baron’s feast, she gets tipsy, and begins flirting with every man around. When her escort mentions it, she draws a dagger and attempts to stab him across the table. In self-defence, he takes the dagger away and decides the affair is over. Still angry, the lady grabs up a sword from somewhere and again tries to kill him, only to be disarmed and backed up to the baron’s table.

From there, I developed the setting for the story–an America much more heavily influenced by the French and divided into kingdoms, SCA fashion, instead of into states. This is an America without the internal combustion engine, set around the end of the 1800’s in an alternate time-line, where elemental magic is real. Magic is used to bind contracts, marriages, and control the weather for shipping.

Haven’t read Master of the Fleet? It’s available on Amazon, Smashwords, and at most major book sellers.

Want more?

Esperance Series

http://bit.ly/EsperanceAM

Gambler’s Folly

http://bit.ly/GamblersFolly_Am

 

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Mel and Gambler's FollyHe’s over 500 years old and has been a lone wolf since his soul mate died 200 years ago. He’s on Gambler’s Folly for business and doesn’t need a mate. But the cute little blond he’s just rescued attracts him like no one has since Ilyena.

Has the universe seen fit to give him a second chance at happiness?

Watch for The Russian later this year. Book 3 from Speranza and Gambler’s Folly!

https://www.facebook.com/gamblersfolly

Soul-bound lovers

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I’ve been working on this WIP for the past few days, trying to get it ready for the editor. Fourth book from Gambler’s Folly, this story introduces Kort Behrens, multi-billionaire bachelor and bear shifter and his old flame, Elizabeth. Heading out to Gambler’s Folly, he intercedes in an altercation and discovers a lady friend from his university days–thirty years ago.

While they’ d been friends and had a lot of fun together,  they’d never dated seriously, so they are both surprised when interests begin to heat up. He sees no problem if romance blossoms, but she is certain she could never fit into his crazy life.

Book 3, The Russian, is currently with the editor, so watch for it later this year.

Short Excerpt from Old Flame:

“As I recall, a long time ago I threatened to spank your bottom,” he teased back.

“Your memory is correct. And I believe I dared you to try it.”

“If you keep it up, I’ll do more than try,” he said and felt his face light up.

“Yeah, right,” she answered. “Think you’re up to all that effort? Rich living

hasn’t slowed you down?”

“Not so you’d notice,” he said.

“I guess I’d better stay on my toes.”

“You’d be easier to kiss that way,” he said before he could keep the words

from coming out of his mouth.

“Who says we’re going to kiss?”

At least, this is what she said, but her face developed a

glow that hadn’t been there before, and her scent grew a little

stronger as the tip of her tongue moistened her lips.

“I do,” he told her. “At least once in this life, I’m going to taste that

pretty mouth of yours. I missed my opportunity thirty years ago,

and I’m not going to wait another thirty years.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, sweetheart, that’s a promise.”

She must be Elizabeth3

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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.

MOF Woman Rules his heart

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Between the weather and this bug I’ve been fighting, the year has been a little harsh so far.

What is everyone up to?

I’ve been away from the blog for a while, due to the aforementioned issues, but I hope to be back on a more regular basis.

Still trying to get Master of the Fleet out. We’re having cover issues, as usual. Why is it that no matter what sort of guy I’m looking for, he doesn’t exist when I need him for cover art?

Anyway, stay warm and safe out there. I’ll try to do the same…

Looking for something to read? Check out my Author pages.

Amazon

http://bit.ly/Mellie_Am

Books-a-Million

http://bit.ly/MellieMiller_BAM

Barnes and Noble

http://bit.ly/MellieMiller_BN

Smashwords

http://bit.ly/MellieMiller_SW

Goodreads

http://bit.ly/Mellie_GR

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Yes, I had planned for Master of the Fleet to be out tomorrow, but due to difficulties, I’m having to delay it for a week, until December 29.

It’s still available for pre-order at Smashwords, so if you haven’t pre-ordered your copy yet, go on over!

Happy holidays to everyone, and happy reading!

Excerpt:

Richard was angrier than he had ever been. How had she used him for so long without him noticing the hints he should have seen? After a year of courting, he had asked her to marry him, but she’d begged for more time. He’d decided to ask her again, here at the festival. He was so certain of her acceptance, he had bought a ring for their betrothal.

She had never intended to marry him. She had simply used her charms to get what she wanted. When the source dried up, she would have left him for greener fields. Use him would she? He would show her what it was to be used, and he had half a lifetime to make his point. As soon as the priest got here, she would be bound to him, not only by her oath to him and the blood oath, but by her vow to heaven as well.

 

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