The weather was something else today, with nearly five inches of rain. My back yard looks like a swamp. But it was a lovely day to visit with our daughter and her family and enjoy a nice girls day out.
It’s Friday night, the full moon is high, and I’ve finished the first quick run-through of an old WIP I drug out of my archives. I think with some work, it will be a good book.
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend. Stay safe with all the storms going on out there.
Set in an alternate timeline of North America, where the French had a much greater influence and the country was divided into various kingdoms rather than states, magic is part of everyday life.
Richard Lemarnier is a weather-shaper, commanding wind and water. As CEO and Master of the Fleet for the family company, he is in the upper echelons of society. And still single, he’s considered the most eligible bachelor on the Cote d’Or.
But he only has eyes for one–Anne_Marie…
Excerpt:
“I will not have any man dictate my actions,” she shouted, rising to her feet. “If I’d wanted a task master, I would have stayed under my father’s roof rather than cross half the continent to get away.”
The jewelled dagger flashed in her hand as she thrust it at him. A skilled swordsman, Richard easily parried the attempt as he rose to his feet. The dining area was too crowded to deal with the situation.
Backing away from the table, he suggested, “Anne-Marie, drop the dagger and sit down. You’re making a scene.”
She stalked after him, dagger in hand and in an absolute rage, as he retreated toward the dance floor. This was getting a bit sticky. With room to maneuver, Richard was ready when she lunged at him again. Grabbing her wrist with one hand, he slapped her with the other. As the dagger dropped, she tumbled to the floor and her glare was pure venom.
With the dagger tucked safely into his belt, Richard turned back toward the table. This should end the matter, and the relationship as well.
“I hate you,” Anne-Marie screamed, as she snatched a sword from a nearby table.
Swinging wildly, she came at him with murder in her eyes. Lord Richard drew his blade. While defending himself was not a problem, disarming her without harming anyone else might be. Anger rising, he waited for his opening. After the time and money he had spent on this trip, would she murder him in front of the high table?
His opening came and he threw her blade clear of the floor. With the point of his sword at her throat, Anne-Marie backed away, eyes wide, as anger became fear. Richard moved toward her, his blade never wavering as she retreated. Finally shrinking against the high table, Anne-Marie’s retreat was blocked. Sidestepping, he grabbed her hair to expose her throat fully to his blade.
In a room as silent as a tomb, every eye was focused on the frozen tableau before the baron’s table.
“My good man, were you planning a human sacrifice on the high table? Who are you and what is the meaning of this?” the baron demanded.
A large man, with dark hair turning gray at the temples, and neatly trimmed beard, his presence commanded the attention of the room.
“Your Excellency, I am Lord Sir Richard LeMarnier, from Côte d’Or. The lady and I have travelled for more than a week to attend the festival here in her homeland. At least she claims it as such. After courting her for over a year and asking for her hand in marriage, I dance on her leash while she toys with my affections. Though she hasn’t refused my offer, she has yet to accept it.”
“What do you do?”
“I am in shipping, Your Excellency, with access to goods up and down the coast and from overseas. I have brought her gifts from every part of the world, given her everything she’s asked for, and more. She’s been blessed with everything within my power to give.”
“We’ll agree you’re a generous man. Why are you here?”
“She begged me to travel to your kingdom for the harvest festival this year. Besides transportation and chaperones, I paid for passage and accommodations across two kingdoms to please her.”
The Baron’s frown deepened. “What has that to do with all of this?” he demanded.
“This evening, Your Excellency, I asked if she could spare me some of the attention she’s lavished on every other man in the room, acknowledge me as her escort, and grace me with an occasional word or smile. Heaven knows her eyes have promised more to every other man she’s met this evening.”
Pausing in his explanation, he heard the murmured agreement of others around the room.
“In her anger, she tried to cut my heart out with a dagger. When I took it from her, she snatched a sword from some poor soul and tried to kill me.”
The baron took a moment to ponder the question, glancing at the drop of blood trembling at the tip of Richard’s sword.
“Is this true, woman?” he asked Anne-Marie.
Not answering for a moment, she eventually replied, very carefully, “Unfortunately, it is, Your Excellency.”
“Given the circumstances and from what I have seen tonight, I pass judgment. Your life is forfeit, woman. Have you anything to say?”
With her eyes on Richard, she answered, “If you expect me to beg for my life, you will be disappointed. I will not. Look into your heart and do what you must. If you require my life, then take it. If you find mercy, I would be grateful, milord.”
The silence deepened, with everyone stunned at the scene playing out in front of the high table, while Richard pondered his options. Still holding her head with one hand, sword in the other, he forced her into the center of the floor. Releasing her with a shove he commanded, “Kneel, Anne-Marie. Your life is forfeit. I see no reason to prolong this farce.”
Taking a stance, he raised the sword and swung it down in an arc which would separate head from body. Gasps and a few screams echoed in the room before, he stopped a scarce half-inch away from her neck. Stepping in front of Anne-Marie, he lifted her chin with the tip of his sword, and studied her face. Her eyes were wide with fear, and silent tears streamed down her cheeks before staining the bodice of her gown.
“I have spared your life, which was forfeit. It is now mine to command. Does anyone disagree?” he challenged.
There were murmurs all around, but no disagreement. The baron shrugged his shoulders and sat down, quaffing a large quantity of wine.
Reversing his grip on the blade, Richard held it point down and perpendicular to the floor.
“Kiss the blade that spared your life and swear your loyalty to me.”
The hoarse whisper echoed to the farthest corners of the banquet hall. Trembling, Anne-Marie pressed her lips against the sword.
“On pain of death, I, Anne-Marie Desplaines, swear loyalty to Richard LeMarnier, until his death or until released from my vow. Repeat it to me,” he demanded.
As she did, the baron rose from his seat and cleared his throat.
“After the events of the evening, I will allow this to stand under one condition.”
“And what is the condition, Your Excellency?” Richard was careful to keep his tone respectful.
“An oath which will keep her safe and make you her protector,” the baron replied. “Draw your dagger.”
Richard did as commanded, as the baron circled the table.
“Make a small cut on your hand and on the woman’s.”
“A blood oath, Your Excellency?”
“You question me?”
“No, Your Excellency.”
With the tip of the dagger, Richard made a nick in his hand, and its twin in Anne-Marie’s. Droplets of blood beaded up in their palms.
“Clasp hands,” the baron instructed them.
Over their joined hands, the baron traced arcane symbols in the air. Tingling magic swirled around their hands to bind the oath.
“By the mingling of your blood, do you, Anne-Marie, swear absolute loyalty and obedience to Lord Sir Richard LeMarnier, on pain of death, for as long as you shall live?”
She was crying and shaking so hard Richard wasn’t sure how she was still upright.
“I do so swear,” she replied through the tears.
“And Lord Sir Richard LeMarnier, do you swear to spare her life and guard her, as her sworn protector, for as long as she lives?”
“I do so swear.”
“You will remain together, blood-bound, for as long as the oath shall stand, neither one leaving the other, nor causing harm, one to the other. Breaking the conditions set forth will bring forth the penalty. The oath can be revoked before death by the skills of a baron only. Take heed.”
Hope you’ve all had a great week and are having a fantastic Friday!
What are you reading this weekend? While you’re waiting for The Russian, you should check out my other series from Esperance or my stand alone under the name Sultonna Nadine.
We’ve made it through one more week! Any plans for this weekend? With all the rain here, we won’t be doing any of the outside things we had talked about.
What are you reading? Several of my books are on sale at Amazon for $0.99! So if you’re curious, but cautious, now is a good time to give them a try.
It looks like winter is having one last fling. At least, I hope it is the last one. But it’s a perfect time to dig into that “to-be-read” stack. Right?
I’ve been re-reading some of Vonnie Davis‘ books, which are some of my absolute favorites.
Have you ever had an idea in the middle of the night, written it down, and placed it in your ideas folder? And then forgotten all about it?
Yeah. One of those ideas.
While sorting through files yesterday, I came across a folder with book ideas in it, but it wasn’t in the place it should have been. Opening the file, I recognized the other ideas, but I couldn’t remember the last one.
Turns out it was another story line for the Speranza Series. Idea title–An English Werewolf on Gambler’s Folly.
Like I didn’t have enough on my plate from Gambler’s already…
Watch for The Russian later this year. It will be Book 3 from Gambler’s Folly, in the Speranza Series.
Next up after that will be a book in the Esperance Series–Talents–the continuing story of Viviane and introducing the new heir of Belfort. Connell is a ten year old little boy who must now train to become ruler of his clan. And he’s not happy…
Looking for something to read? Fantasy romance, paranormal romance, or a touch of magic?
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 theEsperance 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.
The next book from Sultonna Nadine will be Lady Calloway.
In an alternate time-line of Victorian London, in a world where the church and state were two arms of the same body, Kerrick and Liora are having marital issues. Married for only a few months, Kerrick thought his wife should be over her shyness by now. But instead, it was getting worse.
When pressed, she finally admitted to adhering to an old version of the Church’s doctrines on sex within marriage–doctrines which forbade women to enjoy sexual relations, even with their husbands, or be guilty of adultery.
As an employee of a specialized department within the Church, Kerrick is faced with a problem. By law, he should turn Liora in as a heretic. But having seen what happened to people brought back into the faith, he couldn’t do that to the woman he loved. He couldn’t continue on the way they had been. And with the debate over Church and state raging, the Church was looking for anything to help solidify its power, leading to purges and forced confessions.
The one option he had left was to take the time they’d been shorted on their honeymoon and get his wife out of town before anyone found out about her heresy. Once safely away, he would try to help her understand and bring her beliefs into line with the current doctrine.
Can Kerrick seduce his wife–spiritually or sexually–and return home safe and satisfied?
How about an excerpt?
Suddenly wanting to know if she could show anything at all, he pulled her to him roughly,
one arm firmly around her waist, the other twined in her hair turning her face to his.
He kissed her savagely at first, his mouth hard on hers, demanding, and then more
sensually. At first she tried to struggle free, and then, for a brief moment, he felt the beginnings of awakening arousal, before she stiffened into her usual stance—endurance.
“Don’t, Kerrick,” she pleaded with him as he released her. “Please, never do that again. I
can’t bear it.”
“Can’t bear what? The thought you might feel something for me? You didn’t have to
accept my proposal of marriage.”
“Decent gentlewomen should not give in to the temptations of the flesh. Men can’t help
but fall prey to their desires, but women must not, for the sake of both their salvations.”
“Where did you learn such rot? I thought all those bizarre sects had disappeared decades
ago.”
“How dare you say such things? The Holy Writings of the Prophet teach us the pleasures
of the flesh are evil.”
“Yes, when indulged outside the marriage bed. But we exchanged vows, which changes
things considerably.”
“No, it doesn’t. Would you be married to a whore? Women, even married women, who
give themselves to carnal pleasures are whores, or just as good as. I should think a man
in your position would be happy to have a chaste, gods-fearing wife.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Kerrick stated in amazement. “You really believe this?”
“I do,” Liora responded.
“Then why did you even get married? Didn’t you know that sex was part of the bargain?”
“I married you because I love you,” she answered. “And one of a wife’s duties is to redeem
her husband, by keeping his lusts contained within the marriage bed, not out buying the
favors of prostitutes!”
“Might you not think the reason men frequent prostitutes is that they can’t find the love
and passion they desire at home, in the first place?”
“But why? All a man needs is to have his way with a woman, to satisfy his body’s desires.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t get that from your father, because it’s wrong. A man likes to know he can ignite passion in his wife and give her the pleasures she deserves as his lover. Not
have her lie there like a corpse, hoping it’ll soon end.”
“I will not prostitute myself for you, Kerrick,” she responded hotly.
“I don’t want you to prostitute yourself, I want you to be my wife. A prostitute is someone
who sells her body on the streets. Now if you start that, I’ll be exceedingly angry with you.”
“You’re being vulgar, Kerrick.”
“Well, I’ve got to do something to make you understand my position. So why, after three
months of marriage, are you pushing me away? Before, you simply endured my advances,
but you didn’t refuse or resist me.”
As Kerrick watched, she crossed her arms in front of her, bowed her head over them,
and tried to seem even smaller than she was.
“Liora? I’m waiting.”
In a voice that was barely a whisper, he heard, “I didn’t realize how difficult it would be.”
“How difficult what would be?”
“Resisting the temptations. The closer we become, the more time we spend together,
feeling your hand in mine, your kisses, the more difficult it is not to give in and enjoy the
This is the question people always have. What was the inspiration?
