Please help me welcome Linda Nightingale with an author interview, a new release, and a giveaway!!
Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?
I was born two days after Christmas on a day long, long ago and named Linda Joyce. My maiden name is Brown. My hometown is Anderson, SC, and after 14 y ears in Texas, I just returned home. I have two wonderful sons and I couldn’t be prouder of them. Man, I got lucky!
I have always had a passion for horses and bred, trained, and showed the magnificent Andalusian horse for many years.
My writing has won several awards, including the Georgia Romance Writers’ Magnolia Award for Excellence as well as the San Antonia Romance Writers SARA award.
Where did you get the idea for Four by Moonlight?
Each story in the anthology has a different theme and inspiration. “Gypsy Ribbons,” the ghost story, was inspired by The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. “The Night Before Doomsday,” the angel story, was inspired by passages in The Book of Enoch from the Apocrypha. The other two stories were simply flights of my imagination.
What book have you read that you wish you had written?
The Picture of Dorian Gray. I admire Oscar Wilde, and he is so witty. Dorian Gray is an exaggeration of that era but there are some truths between the pages.
Do you have another occupation, other than writer? If so, what is it and do you like it?
I am a retired Legal Assistant. Most of my career, I liked my job but there at the end, I was more than ready to retire to write full-time.
What do you love that most people don’t like and wouldn’t understand why you do?
Those little wieners called Vienna Sausages. Lord only knows what they are made of, but I enjoy them with saltine crackers.
What do you dislike that most people wouldn’t understand?
2% milk. If you’re drinking milk, drink the whole stuff. It’s better tasting and better in coffee.
Do you collect anything?
Painted ponies. I have thirteen—5 Native American themed, and 8 various ones including the unicorn and the pony named Spring from the Seasons. My favorite is the musical pony. He is cantering on a keyboard and has violins and other musical motifs all over his black coat.
What do you want readers to come away with after they read Four by Moonlight?
Enchantment. I want them to surface from the spell created by the story reluctant for it to end and reality rush back in.
What do you want your tombstone to say?
‘She died as she lived—with reckless abandon’.
If you could be a character in any of your books, who would you be?
Morgan D’Arcy from Sinner’s Opera (I’m currently in the process of getting my rights back) and Morgan D’Arcy: A Vampyre Rhapsody. Morgan is handsome, sophisticated, a charmer and magnetic. I’d leave off the vampire part!
Now to interview my readers—for a prize—an eBook of Four by Moonlight. My evil twin Bianca Swan wants to know: Do you like erotic romance and why?
There is one erotic romance(?) in Four by Moonlight, but Bianca didn’t write it. I did.
An anthology of love in the moonlight…in the paranormal realms…
Gypsy Ribbons – A moonlight ride on the moors and meeting a notorious highwayman will forever change Lady Virginia Darby’s life.
Star Angel – Lucy was stuck in a rut and in an Idaho potato patch. She’d seen him in the corner of her eye—a fleeting glimpse of beauty—now he stood before her in the flesh.
The Night Before Doomsday – All his brothers had succumbed to lust, but Azazel resisted temptation until the wrong woman came along.
The Gatekeeper’s Cottage – Newlywed Meggie Richelieu’s mysterious, phantom lover may be more than anyone, except the plantation housekeeper, suspects.
The angel Azazel, a leader of the Grigori, narrates:
After our arrival in Eden, I often prayed for my harp. One day, it appeared in a blaze of light.
A knock at the door froze my hands upon the strings. Had someone heard the music I was forbidden to play? Annoyed at the interruption, I set the harp on its feet. As I glided across the room, I sensed the identity of my caller and relaxed. What could Magdalene want?
Another timid knock sounded. The door creaked open. A slither of sunshine crept across the floor to my feet.
Magdalene called through the crack, “Azazel, I took a chance you were home. May I come in?”
“Hello, Magdalene. Please. Come. I was playing the harp. Would you like to listen?”
“Oh yes.” She clasped her hands to her breast, the gesture innocent yet seductive.
I waved her ahead of me, following her into the late afternoon sunlight glinting on the golden instrument. She sank down at my feet and placed a hand on my knee. As the melody unfurled from the strings, I sang. This time, I did not play the music of heaven.
With the last notes quivering in the air, Magdalene repeated the lyrics. “Stoop angels hither from the skies, there is no holier spot of ground, than where love with beauty lies.” She was trembling. “I expected a hymn.”
“It was a hymn. To Beauty.”
“It sounded like a love song.”
“Perhaps, it is a love song.”
Hope shone in her mesmerizing blue eyes. “To me?”
“To you and every Eve.”
She rose to her knees, brushing back my hair and kissing my ear, her small hand fondling me. My shaft hardened in her caress. My breath caught, my heart hammering.
“Magdalene, don’t.” I caught her fingers.
“Why not?” She breathed warmth on my neck. “I love you.”
I forced images of coupling from my mind. “You’ve mistaken gratitude for love.” I set aside my harp, lifting her to her feet. “Here, I’ll take you flying.”
“I don’t want to fly. Not just yet.” Delicate fingers caressed the sensitive underside of my wing.
Every fiber of my being vibrated to a melody old as the Universe, new as the First Day. She locked her arms around my neck and applied her body to the length of mine.
Face lifted, lips parted, she breathed, “Don’t you want to kiss me?”
The heat in her gaze boiled the blood racing through my veins. My hands shook with the effort to resist. The scent of her perfume, the pure essence of Woman, and the desire that had been smoldering for days overcame me. Helpless, I bent to do what she’d accused me of wanting…something I needed more than the next breath. She stood on tiptoe, opened her mouth, a shy tongue teasing my lips to part. Not like Ruth’s kiss. Subtle, innocent yet…knowing.
I groaned in the exquisite pain of desire. My mouth opened, taking her tongue inside, dominating the kiss. Desire was death, a living rigor mortis. As my feverish hands explored her body, she moaned and whispered. Thought sizzled to fog. Spellbound, I kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks. When I pressed my mouth to her velvet throat, she shivered in my embrace, and I was lost.
The walls of my house closed in on me. Folding Magdalene in a wing, I lifted her and took her into the garden. Here darkness and my wings would hide our sin.
AUTHOR LINKS AND BUY LINKS (Be sure to check out the video):
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LNightingale – @Lnightingale
Web Site: http://www.lindanightingale.com
YouTube Book Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4T3nsNV1bA&t=6s
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