Tag Archives: Scottish Romance

Author Interview with Anastasia Abboud ~ New Release: Tremors Through Time #WRPbks #Blog

Please help me welcome today’s guest, Anastasia Abboud…

Thank you for joining me, Anastasia. Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?

We live in Texas! My husband and I have been married for over forty years. We have two sweet sons, one beloved daughter-in-heart, and two precious grandchildren. Our home is nestled in a suburb southwest of Houston, surrounded by family. Our younger son and his family, our brothers and their families, my husband’s sister and her husband, a nephew and his family, plus more extended family and close friends are all within a ten-minute drive or closer. It hasn’t always been the case and while I would love to live in a rural area, better still, in the mountains, I don’t know if I ever will – at least not full time. This is so much fun, not to mention convenient.  Our younger son and his family are five minutes away. Our elder son just recently moved out of the neighborhood, but he still lives close by.

Where did you get the idea for Tremors Through Time? Why did you choose this genre (is it something you’ve written in before)?

I’ve always loved historical romance. Once I became acquainted (and in love) with time travel romance, I thought it might be fun to write one myself. But there are so many great stories out there. I decided to take a chance on a slightly different twist, having the hero fall forward in time rather than the heroine fall back. Lachlann’s not a typical hero, either – neither a chieftain nor warrior, possessing neither magical powers nor education. He’s a farmer, albeit a gorgeous one.

Was there anything unusual, any anecdote about this book, the characters, title, process, etc, you’d like to share?

I’m so glad you’ve asked! There are a couple of things I’m downright eager to share. The most important is about the ending. Dear Readers, it surprised me, too. The characters wrote it. It was the most startling feeling. They took over, and I honestly felt there could be no other way to end the story. At the same time, I count it as a happy ending. The main characters get their HEA. Trust me, there’s more coming, and I believe you will love it!

As for the process, I wrote the book before ever traveling to Scotland. I did sooo much research. So much! I like to say that I stopped jumping down rabbit holes and just tunneled from one to the next. When my husband and I visited that beautiful country for the first time this past fall, I was enormously pleased to see how accurate my research had been.

What is the most difficult thing about writing a book?

For me, delegating time to write is the very most difficult thing.

What was the most difficult thing about this one in particular?

Just time, nothing more, nothing less.

What’s your favorite book of all time and why?

I have a few, but if I’m going to name just one, it’s Quo Vadis by Henri Sienciwicz.  It has history, romance, religious faith, and perfect symmetry.           

What’s your favorite childhood book?

Again, there are a few options. Today, at any rate, I think I’ll go with Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder.

What do you want readers to come away with after they read [your book]?

I hope that they come away thinking about time, love, and the ties that bind, and that they care about the characters and want to spend more time with them.

What is your favorite quote?

Love never fails. – 1 Corinthians 13:8

If you could be a character in any of your books, who would you be?

I would be Deidre from Tremors Through Time. She loves gardening and the simple life, is a medieval history professor, and she’s in love with a delicious, medieval farmer who’s in love with her. She’s also tall and curvaceous, which I’d like to be one day (when I grow up).

What do your friends and family think of your writing?

They’ve shown me so much love, support, and encouragement. I am deeply grateful for them and to them.

How did you come up with the title? 

It got a little hair-raising! It was funny, really. I originally called it simply Tremors — in reference to the earthquake that occurs in the story. When The Wild Rose Press picked it up, I was informed that I had to change it because there’s a movie by the same name. Apparently, the movie involves giant, omnivorous worms — not a good connect! But since I’d used the word “tremors” several times in the story (as a play on words in addition to seismic tremors), I wanted to keep it as part of the title.  For a few weeks, there was a lot of Tremors this and Tremors that in my conversations and random phone calls to family and friends, and running through my head while I was driving, and, of course, as I tried to fall asleep at night.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp? 

Yes! There are a couple of themes that run through all my novels:

There is much more to a person than what you see on the surface.

Love conquers all.

And for Tremors Through Time in particular:

Time is more fluid than we might realize one might think and love is timeless.

In the infinite vastness of time – past, present, future, past – love prevails.

Excerpt:

Lachlann sauntered across Deidre’s driveway just as she was locking her front door. She turned toward him, smiling. He froze. She was wearing a saffron-colored leine, or tunic, underneath a blue, fitted surcoat. He should have known! She was a woman from his own time. His heart and head began to pound as he stared at her.

“Lachlann?” Deidre’s voice reached him, soft and hesitant. “Don’t you like my costume?”

Costume. Of course, it was a costume. He struggled to regain his voice as his heart rate calmed. “It’s great,” he managed, giving himself a mental shake. Fool!

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice still uncertain. She looked at him inquiringly. “I surprised you, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. I like to wear something fairly authentic in case I run into some of my students.”

“You do look authentic.” He managed a wink. “Bonnie as well.”

She blushed. “You’ve probably seen lots of costumes like this in Scotland.”

“Not so many, and none in Texas.”

It was a wonder to him that he was still standing. Her costume, as she called it, was perfect. She might have fallen through time like himself. It was an even greater wonder that he had not yet carried her off to bed. He’d never wanted anyone as he wanted her.

Now, dressed in such a familiar manner, she suddenly seemed more tangible than ever. She looked magnificent, the clothing emphasizing her generous breasts and hips, her deep red tresses flowing freely down her back.

His mouth went dry as he wondered how he might persuade her to dress like this more often.

Their eyes met. To hell with time.

He stepped toward her.

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Bio:

For me, playing is the best — playing outdoors in nature or in my garden, experimenting in the kitchen, spending time with those I love. I also enjoy disappearing into a good book, attempting crafts, learning, writing, exploring, discovering. I especially like to mix it up and have yet to perfect any of it; and I’ve come to realize that perfection’s not the point. It’s all wonderfully fun. That’s the point!

​I prefer authentic and natural, be it food, lifestyle, people. I passionately enjoy both history and science, and certainly sociology to a degree, and I am most truly a romantic.

​​My husband and I have been married for over forty years. We reside near Houston, Texas, surrounded by loved ones. We have a blast with our little grandchildren.

​I thank God for this wonderful life.

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#HobbyCareerPassion: “A Passion for Honor” ~ Author Alina K. Field ~ The Comtesse of Midnight, in Storm & Shelter, a Blue Stocking Belles Collection with Friends #Blog #AHAgrp

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Alina K. Field…

A Passion for Honor

Susenier, Abraham; A Storm at Sea; The Fitzwilliam Museum; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/a-storm-at-sea-5530

Malcolm Comyn, the hero of The Comtesse of Midnight, my contribution to Storm & Shelter, A Bluestocking Belles and Friends Collection, has had little time to pursue hobbies or distractions. His duties as the Earl of Menteith running his Scottish estate have occupied most of his time since the death of his father a year earlier. He’s barely had time to pursue the ladies—until now, when he’s in pursuit of a very particular lady, The Comtesse de Fontenay.

Weeks earlier, an anonymous threatening letter led him to London, and a search for both the author of the letter and the truth of his birth. For if he isn’t the true Earl of Menteith, by all honor, the title should go to his cousin, Finnley Macbeth.

Though he can’t uncover the source of the threats, he does find evidence that the woman who gave birth to him was not the last Countess of Menteith, but a French émigré, wife of the Comte de Fontenay, his late father’s mistress.

Honor demands he uncover the truth, whatever it might be. His quest leads him through Sussex and Kent and finally into Suffolk where in the midst of a terrible storm, he goes to the aid of a lady smuggler, helping her save the last of her cargo. With the roads impassable, they find their way to the isolated town of Fenwick on Sea. When the lady refuses to share her name, he senses that she is also running from scandal. With the inn completely filled with refugees from the storm, he and his anonymous new companion agree to wait out the storm together in the parlor of the dilapidated Elizabethan wing of the Queen’s Barque Inn.

Malcolm has no quarrel with the lady’s free trading of spirits, nor any need to uncover the secret she’s running from. But, when he wakes to find her going through his belongings, he presses her for her name. What he learns brings him to the end of his quest, an old enemy, and a promise of a future he never expected.

Blurb:

A Scottish Earl on a quest for the elusive Comtesse de Fontenay, rescues a French lady smuggler during a devastating storm, taking shelter with her. As the stormy night drags on, he suspects she knows the lady he’s seeking, the lady who holds the secret to his identity. When she admits she herself is the Comtesse Fontenay, she dashes all his hopes—and promises him new ones.

Blurb for the Collection:

When a storm blows off the North Sea and slams into the village of Fenwick on Sea, the villagers prepare for the inevitable: shipwreck, flood, land slips, and stranded travelers. The Queen’s Barque Inn quickly fills with the injured, the devious, and the lonely—lords, ladies, and simple folk; spies, pirates, and smugglers all trapped together. Intrigue crackles through the village, and passion lights up the hotel.

One storm, eight authors, eight heartwarming novellas.

Pre-order now for 99 cents:

Excerpt

The Scotsman, however, was dead on his feet. She could almost feel sorry for him. He was far from home, and had been traveling for several days. His neckcloth was limp, his cuffs soiled, his coat wrinkled. His boots, well and carefully crafted, if not by Hoby then by some equally fashionable bootmaker in Edinburgh, had not been properly polished in the last few days.

He’d shaved though, probably very early that morning, because a delicious dark stubble had sprouted along his strong jaws.

Did he have a razor in his interesting valise? She wouldn’t molest him, unless he thought to do the same to her. If it came to that, and she prayed that it wouldn’t, she would use her own blade and not some unfamiliar shaving instrument.

“Is this one of your imports?” he asked, swirling the amber liquid. “It’s very good.”

His words stirred her out of her imaginings about handsome young men, and she realized she must manage the conversation else she’d slip into sleep, or perhaps something more inconvenient, without thinking.

The Comte had always succumbed to sleep when they’d conversed, no matter the topic. She must soothe this fine-looking and very fatigued man the same way.

Outside, the thunderstorm had moved on, and the rain pounded in a comforting downpour. With the warm fire, and the heavy blankets, and the sleeping dog, it was quite cozy.

But what to talk about? Most certainly not the free trade. It would be far too diverting to put him to sleep, and besides she had no idea what he would do with the knowledge.

The countryside? She might slip and drop a hint about her home at Bloodmoor Hill.

She thought back to her time on the fringes of a London society that she’d found unbearably dull.

The weather.

“I am glad you are enjoying the brandy,” she said. “But I daresay you are not liking this weather. It is quite the worst storm in many seasons, people are saying. Normally at this time of year the sea has quietened.” A lie, of course, but how would he know?

He sipped his drink, eyeing her over the glass.

Oh. Given that it might remind him of her activities that evening and spark questions, the sea was an inappropriate topic, whether or not one was fudging a weather report. “Winters, however are generally mild.”

He yawned, and she went on, discussing the number of rainstorms in March and going back to February, and then January, and making up the story as she went along, until his eyes drooped and the empty glass fell into his lap and lodged itself next to his fall.

Warmth uncurled in her. His trousers were tight in the usual fashion for gentlemen, outlining masculine endowments that sparked her interest far too much. Retrieving the fallen tumbler was out of the question.

She set down her own glass and fought the urge to join him in slumber.

Buy links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3kgRmLG

Apple Books: https://apple.co/3lZYHja

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/storm-shelter-bluestocking-belles/1137958115

Kobo: https://bit.ly/3o0z977

About Alina:

Award-winning and USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but she prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California where she shares a midcentury home with her husband and a golden-eyed terrier, and is hard at work on her next historical romance.

website  https://alinakfield.com

Blog https://alinakfield.com/blog

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Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7173518.Alina_K_Field

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Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alina-K.-Field/e/B00DZHWOKY

Get to know Alina K. Field better by signing up for an email newsletter https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z6q6e3

 

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A Highland Pearl by Brenda Taylor

Just in time for Christmas shopping, A Highland Pearl, will be published on December 2, but is now available for pre-order at Amazon.com for $2.99 until the publication date. An ebook copy of the novel will be awarded to a commenter on the publication date. 

AHighlandPearl2_Huge-1

A sweet romance blossoms amidst feuding and war. With her reputation at stake after being accused of practicing witchcraft and hated as a member of a rival clan, Maidie considers leaving Clan Munro and returning to the home of her birth in Clan Cameron. Fierce battles, a tragic encounter, and a handsome clan chief compel her to make crucial decisions in this haunting romance set in the16th century Highlands of Scotland.

A Highland Pearl, is the first novel in the Highland Treasures series. The story takes place in 1508 A.D. Scotland when clan chiefs ruled the highlands. Loyalty pledged to a clan chief meant provision and protection for the clansman, but in return rents were paid to support the chief and his family and service in the chief’s army was required of each able-bodied man. Within the walls of the great castles, intrigue and mystery reigned. Clans vied for land, livestock, and power. Fighting and reiving or stealing were prevalent, yet a gentler side with passion, love, romance, family and faith permeated the life of the Highlanders. A Highland Pearl tells about all aspects of life in the Highlands of Scotland. 

Excerpt from A Highland Pearl

Andrew stood. He must tell Maidie how he felt. He took her chin into his hands and looked into azure eyes. First, he kissed the tip of her nose, then a freckle on both rosy cheeks, and at last he found her mouth with fervor. Maidie wrapped her arms around his neck while he embraced her, pulling her closer. She returned his kiss much to his amazement. Her moist lips pressed firmly against his. His lips left hers, planting kisses on her eyelids, around her face, down her neck, and then on her mouth once more. She tasted sweet like heather ale and smelled of roses. His heart ached with love for the lass. How could he let her go, now that he had just found her?

He lifted his head. She sank into his chest. “I love you, Maidie. With all my heart, I love you.” He said it with little difficulty, because his heart brimmed with a deep love he had never before experienced.

“I pledge my fealty and my heart to you, Laird Andrew Munro. With all my heart I love you,” she answered with her head tucked under his chin.

He pushed away to look into her eyes. “I’ll come for you. No matter where you are.”

“I will be waiting.” Her eyes reflected the deep emotions of her heart like the black water of Cromarty Firth reflected the blue sky above.

“Come on, Munro, you’ve done enough love making. Time to get on with this exchange,” the leader of the guard commanded and nudged Andrew with his mount.

Stumbling, he released Maidie. The leader kept nudging him on. He looked back, but Maidie and Sven were surrounded by MacKenzie warriors and he could not see her. He took Briana from Colin as they walked to the grove where Gavin waited. Andrew pumped his fisted right arm into the air, calling out the Munro battle cry, “Caisteal Fàrdach A Chaoidh.” An embrace from his brother with whoops, hollers, and returns of the war cry from his warriors followed.

The mounted guard left Scara and Crag then turned back to the castle. Maidie and Sven had reached the gates. His men turned to ride back, and he watched the love of his life walk into the bailey of Castle Lach. God, take care of Maidie and the lad. Help me get her back.

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About Brenda B. Taylor

The desire to write historical fiction has long been a passion with Brenda B. Taylor. Since elementary school, she has written stories in her spare time. Brenda earned three degrees: a BSE from Henderson State University, Arkadelphia, Arkansas; a MEd from Sam Houston State University, Huntsville, Texas; and an EdD from Texas A&M University, College Station, Texas; then worked as a teacher and administrator in the Texas Public School system. Only after retirement could she fulfill the dream of publication.

Brenda and her husband make their home in beautiful East Texas where they enjoy spending time with family and friends, traveling, and working in Bethabara Faith Ministry, Inc. She crafts stories about the extraordinary lives of ordinary people in her favorite place overlooking bird feeders, bird houses, and a variety of blooming trees and flowers. She sincerely thanks all who purchase and read her books. Her desire is that the message in each book will touch the heart of the reader as it did hers in the writing.

Read more about Brenda and her books at:

Historical Heartbeats

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