Angels are androgynous, and above the baser cravings of humankind.

Above reproach.

However, in the Book of Enoch, we meet the Grigori or Watchers.

Angels were considered sexless and above reproach, which presented a challenge to the church—to explain how they mated with mortal women.  The thirteenth-century Bishop of Paris adopted a typical compromise.  According to his theory, there were nine orders of angels but it was a separate one, the tenth that fell.  These Sons of God saw the Daughters of Man and, we are told in Genesis 6, lusted after seductive flesh and took themselves wives from among them.

This was an efficient solution to a theological catch twenty-two—the difficulty in reconciling a theology that insisted angels were sexless with evidence from the Scriptures showing these lusty celestials enthusiastically proving the opposite. 

In angelic lore, the Grigori are nearer in form, genes and sexual interest to human beings, and that they had a genuine friendship and desire to teach humankind the secrets of Heaven. Azazel, the protagonist in my Night Before Doomsday taught women the arts of seduction—makeup, how to dress, etc.  He also taught men the skill of making weapons.

By the fourth century, the ten leaders of the Grigori, once illustrious angels, were all listed as fallen.  Of the two hundred angels who descended to Earth, nine-tenths fell to lust, siring the Nephilim.  The Bible has this to say about the Nephilim:  The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.

Anyone who has seen Supernatural or the short-lived series The Fallen will be familiar with TV’s version of the Nephilim. 

The Night Before Doomsday, an alternate history, is the tale of the Grigori told in first person from the leader Azazel’s POV.  The picture to the right is the sigil (a mark given at his creation to each angel) of the angel Azazel.  The sigil and the characters of any angel, light or dark, are used in alchemy to summon that angel.  There were nights when I was writing The Night Before Doomsday and I, Azazel, an as yet unpublished novel, when the hair at my nape would stir, and I’d curl closer in my bed.

Blurb:  The angels sent to Earth to teach Mankind how to survive after Eden lost heaven to lust—or was it love?  Azazel fights temptation until the wrong woman comes along.

Excerpt:

Eyes lined with charcoal as I’d taught them, lips rouged by my own hand mocked me.  A bold hand slid beneath my robe, up my thigh, and gripped my shaft.  The hot vibration deep inside trembled along my organ, growing longer and stiff.

Like a spider's web touched by a candle's flame, memories of Home shriveled.

Gentle Magdalene smoothed the hair back from my face, staring at my shocked expression.  “Oh, Azazel.” A fingertip traced my cheek. “Did we hurt you?”

“No.” I clamored to my feet, bewildered by the feelings torturing me.

None would meet my gaze.  Lord of Hosts, if they were afraid of me, I was doubly afraid of them. I’d never felt desire or the effect passion had on the body.  If I had experienced sexual longings, I’d ignored them.  Now, I could no longer pretend.  My body yearned for something I’d believed to be the province of Man and the beasts. 

Ruth winked a painted eyelid.  In her dark eyes, amusement twinkled.

“Ungrateful rabble.”  I tossed my hair back and folded my wings around me, brushing the dust from my feathers.  “I make you alluring.  You repay me by rolling me in the dirt and trying to tickle me to death.”

“You’re an angel.”  Ruth undulated her shoulders.  The lush breasts pointed at me swayed. “You can’t die.”

Oh, but I was dying. More than they could possibly know.  Dying to touch them, dying for them to touch me, caress me there again.  Before my face revealed forbidden desire, I schooled my expression stern.

I wheeled, tossing a command over my shoulder. “Back to work.  Embroidery I think.”

A chorus of groans rose from the women.

Fighting a smile, I folded my arms across my chest and faced them. “I know you love the fine, detailed work—”

"Sometimes you act like a brother, Azazel.”  Mary laughed.  “A very overbearing brother."

I smiled, tucked blonde hair behind her ear. “You’re all my sisters…in a way.”

A sly smile parted Ruth’s lips.  She winked at me. “Then the other angels, we’re their sisters too?”  She danced backwards, pointing at Mary.  In a sing-song voice, she accused, “Mary has lain with her brother.”

The petite blonde’s cheeks flamed.  Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but no excuse or denial interrupted the stillness. On a cry, she fled the field.

“Ruth,” I scolded, “you mustn’t say such things.”

She shrugged.  “Tis true.  Your brothers have gone into women.”

You’ve made them more beautiful for us.  Amarazak’s words echoed in my ears.

Ruth stroked my wing. “Do you have a lover, Azazel?”

Desire and heat blazed through me.  I yearned for her to continue caressing my wing.  If she did, I would pull her to me…Stop.

“No.” I bent, retrieved a skein from the ground and handed the fine blue thread to her. “I am your teacher.”  My gaze brushed each pretty face.  I shrugged.  “Too many from which to choose.”

It was true, wasn’t it?  If the choice were mine, I didn’t know which I’d take to my bed.  What was I thinking?  Love was one thing; lust quite another. 

Ana caught a wingtip, spun me to face her.  “Thank you, Azazel, thank you.  I’ve always dreamed what it would be like to fly.  I’m sorry I spoiled it.”

“I shouldn’t have flown so high.” 

“Take me!  Take me.  I want to go flying!”

Quiet at the center of the cacophony of voices, Ruth stared at me.

Red lips smiling...perfect white teeth...black hair falling over her face.... 

She flung herself into my arms, covered my startled gasp with a hungry mouth.  A warm tongue plunged into me.  I went rigid, considered shoving her away, but a sensation like pain tightened in me.  A need, that I’d never experienced, pulsed between my legs.  I surrendered totally to feeling.

“Ruth, get off him.”  Magdalene’s voice sliced through the haze of passion. “Why do you do these things?  Help me get her off him, Ana.  Azazel doesn’t ask for favors. Help me, Elwen.  It’s not funny anymore.”

Like a blanket, they plucked the heat of Ruth's body off mine. Ana’s gaze swept down me.  Her eyes widened.  Mortified, I gaped at the tent in my angelic robe.  I had an erection.  Men not angels got hard.  The girls stared at me.  No, they were staring at the long weapon I couldn’t control.

“So the chaste Azazel falls.” Ruth laughed and, thank God, my erection wilted.

The Night Before Doomsday is available from Amazon for $.99.

Visit my website http://lindanightingale.com for Vampyre Hunt, a sexy vampire read.

I just wanted to share my wonderful new cover for Wings by talented Elise Trissal (daughter of author Beth Trissel!):

I'm prejudiced, but good job!  See how just right this is??

Blurb:  The fallen angels have again risen against the Light, and the Second War in Heaven is raging. Paimon, General of Hell, yearned for a lover with the beauty of an angel and created a demon the exact replica of a celestial. He presents his creation with a powerful sword and appoints him commander of the demon forces. If Salseph returns to Hell with the sword in victory, Paimon vows to end Seph’s demeaning missions of seducing human women and destroying their lives. The promise is a double-edged blade. The demons under his control abhor Salseph as much as he reviles them.

In battle, the angel Ophiel disarms Salseph and humiliates the young demon. Seph vows revenge against his foe and strikes upon the perfect plan for vengeance. He will seduce the guardian angel’s charge, Gloria Landry, and at the Battle of Armageddon present soiled goods to the arrogant Ophiel in exchange for the stolen sword. When he rescues Gloria from a violent storm, she believes Salseph is her guardian angel. On their journey to the apocalyptic war, Salseph and Gloria discover that lust can become the purest love and that a bad boy can be good.
http://www.double-dragon-ebooks.com/single.php?ISBN=1-77115-070-X

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A political marriage to stop a war…a king whose golden mask hides his face from his people…a princess who loves her husband though she never sees his face…and a curse placed on a royal family by God…

Okay, so once again, I’m doing my version of a legend.  This time, it’s Beauty and the Beast and though it’s been done to death, I don’t think anyone’s come up with this particular twist so far.

Senset is a princess of AEgys, only a minor child, and the daughter of a lesser wife of King Aseti-Ra, but a royal princess nevertheless.  Her people are descended from a group of exiles banished from, a beautiful land on the banks of a river whose waters flow northward where pyramids house their sovereigns’ bodies and palm trees shade oases.

For generations, the AEgysians have been fighting the Beast Men, wild creatures who ride out of the hills on horseback, then retreat again.  More times than not, the Beasts are victorious and gain a little more of AEgysian land and another of their cities appears.  Then, Crown Prince Horem captures a Beast and plans to sacrifice him to Ra-horakhty in exchange for peace.  This bothers Senset who thinks her brother should try to communicate with his prisoner but Horem sees no point.  It’s an animal, after all.  So Senset steals into the dungeon, and discovers an intelligent, articulate man instead of a dumb creature.  They talk, they become friends, she helps him escape, much to her brother’s anger.  

 Michael is king of the Habiru, the Beast Men, and when his brother returns home with tales of the beautiful woman who helped him escape, he sees it as an opportunity for peace between the two warring peoples.  He sends Aram back to AEgys with an offer Aseti-Ra can’t refuse;  peace and an alliance between the Beasts and the AEgysians and a marriage with Senset to seal the deal.

 

So Senset leaves her home and travels to Habir’s capitol city of Bethgurion and marries Michael, a beguiling man in spite of the fact that his face is covered by a golden mask.  The two fall very much in love, Senset accepts Michael’s faith of the belief in one God, and peace reigns.  It isn’t long, however, before she learns that Michael has an ulterior motive for marrying her.  The king has been cursed by God and every full moon he must remove his mask and transform into a Beast, and anyone seeing his face is changed also. Only one who has selfless love will free the king from becoming a Beast, and Michael believes his bride’s love for him can break the curse.  Senset herself has doubts.  Is she as unselfish as her husband thinks…?

This was an enjoyable story to write, not only for the tale of love between Michael and Senset, but for the information I learned during my research.  I’ve always liked studying about the ancient Egyptians anyway, so gathering facts about them was a treat.  There was so much to delve into concerning the ancient Egyptians (from whom the AEgysians are supposed to be descended) and the ancient Hebrews (from whom Michael and his people trace their ancestry).  I learned that though the Egyptians had chariots, they never rode horseback.  The idea repulsed them and that’s one reason they consider the Habiru beasts… because they rode horses.  In my story, the Habiru win their bttles because they ride instead of fighting in chariots and one of the gifts Michael makes to Aseti-Ra as a wedding present is a slave to teach the AEgyians how to ride horses.

Writing Bride of the Beast was an enlightening experience, and I hope it will be both that and an entertainment for its readers also. 

EXCERPT:

(Senset meets Michael for the first time, on their wedding day.)

Ahead of them loomed the Temple, larger and more simple in its lines and design than the palace, but more imposing and even a little frightening because it was where the Nameless God was worshipped. Again, someone waited on the steps, a figure in rich robes and headdress, but again face unmasked and bearded.

Not Michael. With her features now hidden as they were, Senset hoped no one could see her disappointment.

They stopped in front of him. Adonijah released her hand though Aram still kept his under hers. He bowed to the man who raised his own in benediction. I see. This is the priest, the one who’ll perform the marriage ritual. She should’ve realized it. Though he looked much different from Ra-Harakhty’s priest who, like all AEgysians was bald-shaven, jewel-bedecked, and wore a white linen shendyt, there was that same sanctified air about this man indicating he was one communing with his God.

“He comes!” The shout made Senset spin around, jerking her hand from Aram’s. “The bridegroom comes!”

Someone else was walking toward them, but from a side street running parallel to the Temple itself. He was striding confidently, surrounded by a group of children, boys and girls running around him laughing and tossing flowers and green leaves into the air. The crowd was cheering and some were also throwing petals. And he was laughing and holding out his hands.

The sun gleamed off his golden mask.

Michael. Senset felt her knees weaken. At last.

As he neared where Senset and Aram stood, the children flung the last of their flowers. Their laughter stopped as they ran into the crowd, to waiting parents holding out their arms to hug them tightly.

“My brother…” Aram stepped forward, offering Senset’s hand. “I bring your bride to you.”

Michael held out his hand and Aram placed Senset’s in it. Then, he stepped back, placing himself in the background, so no one would be distracted from the young couple standing before the priest. Helene took his place by Senset’s side.

Senset could feel herself trembling. Michael’s hand was warm and firm against hers but he didn’t speak, just stood there, green eyes behind the mask staring at her. He was as tall as Aram, his hair beneath his jeweled crown just as dark and even curlier, actually twisting into tight spirals touching his shoulders. The mask was really only a half-shell, covering the upper part of his face, leaving his jaw and chin bare. It was clean-shaven and she thought it resembled Aram’s also. She remembered what he’d said. Michael’s his twin. See Aram’s face and I see my husband’s. She envisioned the General looking down at her with green eyes instead of hazel ones and smiled behind her own obscuring veil.

“Come , my bride.” His first words to me…his voice was deeper than Aram’s, holding a breathless quality…but it might easily have been the General speaking.

Bride of the Beast is being released by Class Act Books on September 15, 2012.

I’m celebrating the Ebook release by Double Dragon Publishing of my dark fantasy, Gemini Rising.  The novel will be released in print in July.   Alain and Alina woke me up very early on a Sunday morning when I lived in Miami.  (I’d probably been to South Beach the night before, and I’m sure I was grumpy at being awakened at 6 AM.)  But they insisted that I had to tell their story.  So, iguana on my head—my sons had a pet iguana named Iggie—I sat down to write, but in a contrast to my usual, I wrote pages and pages on a legal pad.  I normally write on the computer.   Working title was Seeking Eden.

Let’s celebrate with a prize:  a gold and silver (Elizabeth Taylor) pressed powder compact to a commenter.

Back Cover Blurb:  From birth, Alain and Alina Alastair are a scientific miracle--identical male-female twins--a biological impossibility.  Destined to tread the farther, forbidden paths, they discover love, lust, and danger lurking in their future.  When their parents whisk their miracle children home to an isolated island, their lives reach a turning point.

Alain craves escape from the seclusion. 

Alina yearns to express her love with a man who treasures her.

The secrets at Alastair Keep threaten to undermine the very foundations of the world in which these impossible twins live.

Excerpt:    Alain tucked the in-flight magazine into the seat pocket and gazed out the scratched window of the 747.  Distance vanished on clouds fleeing beneath the silver wings, carrying him from a dark-eyed beauty to a fair-haired princess locked in an island castle.  From one life in the sun to a score of problems.

Someone was going to get hurt.

Already he hurt—a low throbbing like a toothache.  If he returned to Portugal, Alina would be devastated.  His father would disown him.  If he picked up his discarded heritage, a part of him would die and Maritza would grieve.  For a time.  He wasn’t vain enough to think the black-haired beauty would die without him.

The choice lay in his hands.

Damn life got complicated when he tried to declare independence from The Keep.  He shifted his long legs cramped beneath the airline seat.  He preferred not to think, but fragments of memory plagued the corners of his eyes.

A vivid picture of Alina supplanted images of recent days drenched white-hot by a Portuguese sun.  His twin’s presence was more corporeal than the woman sitting to his left.  Welcome or not, Alina was there inside him, the mere thought of her a compulsion.  He sensed her anticipation mounting as the miles melted.  Excitement tingled over him.  In self defense, he grasped at a memory of riding the splendid Lusitano stallions.  As he pictured Maritza framed in an arbor of roses, his heart dived.

http://youtu.be/08IGfFxPCWQ    Trailer

Visit me at http://www.lindanightingale.com for a vampire story entitled Vampyre Hunt, which stars Morgan D'Arcy, hero of Sinners' Opera, to be released next year by Double Dragon Publishing.  My blog is http://lindanightingale.wordpress.com/

Buy Link:  http://www.amazon.com/Gemini-Rising-ebook/dp/B0088E2MJ2/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1339155449&sr=8-3

He’s the HERO, tall, drop-dead handsome, and a brave warrior to boot, the warrior in the kingdom if the truth be known, dedicated to fighting and nothing more. Perhaps he’s a womanizer par excellence, also, renowned for his prowess in that other battlefield, the boudoir, or maybe he’s kept celibate by his vows to the Goddess. Either way, he’s a Man among men. She’s the HEROINE, the royal female he’s hired to protect, lovely, delicate, and spoiled, already showing signs of an brave, iron will within the butterfly shell. She may be an untouched, innocent treasure, or a bit of a scold, but she's selective in her choice of men, until she beholds the Man in the flesh…and plenty of it…and then, she loses her heart…and no one but the hero can claim it...

Sound familiar? How many times and ways has this theme played out? My novel The King’s Swordswoman was to be written along similar lines, with one exception…my “hero” was the weak and sheltered one…

His name is Crispin du Lance, invalid son of the Lion of Purdha. Bedridden since birth, Crispin’s been seen by his subjects only once and has left his sickroom twice in all his seventeen years. His survival that long is a miracle. He isn’t expected to last past his coronation, and he certainly will never lead his armies into battle against the now-attacking Nords. He’s an innocent, shielded from the world, his universe bounded by the draperies of his bed, a helpless child-man not expected to live. He’s never seen a dog, never rough-housed with his brothers, never eaten anything stronger than unseasoned gruel.

My “heroine” is Janel Redhu, also seventeen, daughter of Jan Redhu the Mercenary and his warrior wife Mariah TruBlud, joint commanders of the king’s armies. She’s the best warrior in Sword Squad. She lives, bathes, and fights with her twenty-two brothers, and considers herself one of them though she remains chaste and dedicated to the Goddess, while they carouse and womanize. She’d brave, beautiful, and filled with pity for this lonely royal boy, in his feather-bed prison.

When King Leonelle dies, the odd laws of the kingdom give the throne to his youngest son, so Crispin is now the new sovereign. His older, more able brothers ask the Joint Commanders to send them their best swordsman to protect His Majesty. Thus these two so very opposite characters meet. Bodyguard and charge become friends, playmates, if you will, and confidants, and begin to have feelings for each other that even they--in their enforced chastity--don’t recognize. She becomes his gateway to the world outside his bedchamber.

Then, the unexpected happens. Janel overhears a partial conversation between Crispin’s brothers who are the ones really protecting the realm, and believes they’re plotting the king’s overthrow. She’s expected to stand aside while they do away with the helpless invalid, but they don’t count on her integrity.

Janel’s sworn to protect the king and that’s what she does. Though fearing to expose him to the outside world, she dares carry—quite literally—the sick young man to safety, to a neutral kingdom where they’ll wait out the war. But, as usual, Fate intervenes… Janel sees Crispin killed and she allows herself to be taken prisoner by the Nords, as punishment for allowing her charge, her sovereign, her friend, to die…

The King’s Swordswoman is the first of three novels set in the city of Leonesse. It’s told in three parts, the first by Janel, the second by Crispin, the third is an omniscient POV. Together, they mesh into a love story that I hope is unique enough to be called different, while still being entertaining.

Excerpt:

At first, I thought we had walked into a library. There were books everywhere, the walls lined with shelves on which they were stacked. To our right, a door opened into another room. In front of the closest bookcase, a table held a chess board and pieces, other gameboards piled upon it. At the other end of the room, a high-arched, mullioned window let in bright sunlight.

On the opposite side of the room stood a large four-poster bedstead, its headboard against the wall. It was swathed so thickly in translucent draperies its occupant was little more than a faceless figure. Two people stood beside the bed, Prince Carel and the Queen Mother, both painted and draped in the heaviest of mourning.

“So you’ve finally arrived,” Carel greeted his brother brusquely. He flicked a glance at me. “And is this the Lady Comaunder’s choice?” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Linus, who is this person?” Lady Mathilde didn’t give her next-to-youngest a chance to answer his brother. She was a small woman, even shorter than I, now plump with middle age— dumpy, to be truthful—and her voluminous gown with its flowing sleeves making her look even more squat and fat. I could see she’d probably been very comely when she was His Majesty’s bride, and that determined little chin and her bright eyes were probably two of the features catching his eye. Now, however, there was too much willfulness in her expression and her eyes appeared small and cruel. Perhaps king’s consorts become that way over time. All I know is I felt whatever she was thinking didn’t bode well for me.

“This is the soldier Comaunder Mariah sent to guard Crispin,” Carel answered for Linus.

“He seems young.” Standing, she bustled over to me, peering into my face. Shewas shortsighted also, it seemed. I forced myself not to back away. Abruptly, she recoiled. “Carel, this is a girl!”

“Astute of you to notice, Mother.” Carel’s didn’t attempt to keep his answer respectful. That made me frown. Truly, the Royal offspring weren’t acting as I thought they should. Certainly they weren’t deporting themselves as they did on the battlefield. There, they were calm and collected. At the moment, both seemed merely testy, spiteful children. Still, grief affected men in different ways. I hoped that was all it was.

“Comaunder Mariah’s daughter, as a matter of fact,” he went on.

Lady Mathilde stared at her eldest, plainly upset, more than a little angry. Something was wrong, and it appeared to do with my gender.

“She can’t guard His Majesty,” she stated, in a don’t-argue-with-me tone.

“Why not?” Linus spoke up, doing just that. There was so much belligerence in those two words I hoped I wasn’t about to witness a family row.

“She’s a female—” Lady Mathilde began, giving him a glare saying much about a son daring to question his mother’s opinions.

“So?” Carel interrupted. Not letting his mother finish a sentence earned him a scowl.

“Crispin’s guard has to be with him every minute of the day and night. This girl can’t possibly sleep in the same room with His Majesty. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“Janel’s a devotee of the Goddess, Madame.” Carel’s reply was clipped as if attempting to control his anger. A faint rose fragrance hovered in the air. “DeOsse requires chastity of her followers. You needn’t worry about her climbing into bed with him.”

That earned him a shocked look. Both from Mathilde and myself. Linus stifled a chuckle.

“She’s too young, Carel. Your brother requires assistance in bathing and other…necessities. Perhaps if she were more mature… It’s common knowledge young women are susceptible to the sight of bare male bodies, even one as frail as your brother’s…”

At this point, I had to bit my lip to stifle my own laughter. Great DeOsse! She thinks I’ll have designs on the King? On that sickly creature? If I were going to break my vows, it’d certainly be for someone in better health than he. Carel or Linus or… Better end that thought right now.

“Stop this, Madame.” Carel’s snort said it all. “Janel Redhu’s no danger to anyone except those who might harm His Majesty. She’s a soldier first and a female second.”

Carel might be calm but I felt my own cheeks reddening. I studied the floor. Linus fixed an equally interested gaze on the ceiling.

“Nevertheless—”

“Nevertheless, nothing! I asked the Commander for her best soldier and Janel is her choice. She stays.”

There was a sigh and a creaking of the leather straps supporting the mattress. A sleepy murmur, sudden movement from the bed, a body straightening and rolling over.

“M-Mother?” The voice was so shaky and hollow it sounded like an old man rather than a seventeen-year-old boy.

“Yes, my angel.” Mathilde was distracted from further argument as she rushed back to the bedside. She leaned into the draperies, reaching toward the vague figure lying there, assisting His Majesty in sitting upright. Once he was settled and propped on several pillows, she straightened.

“W-we have a v-visitor?” It was asked breathlessly. Crispin sounded as if he’d run a race and couldn’t get his wind. Oh, Goddess, and he stutters, too. I felt my heart dip with pity. He leaned forward slightly. “Who are you, s-soldier?”

“The guard sent from Sword Squad—” Carel began.

I started to supply my name.

“—a female,” Mathilde didn’t let either of us finish. “I’ve told him she isn’t acceptable.”

Oh no. She’s going to talk him out of it. Now I understood Linus’ earlier remark. For some reason, the Queen Mother didn’t want her son to have a guard. I imagined she had enough influence with him to have me sent away. Well, that’d be no reflection on me or my abilities, but it would be an insult. To myself as well as to the Lady Commander my mother for her choice.

“Why not?” It was the whining query of a child being told he couldn’t do something.

“See? Even His Majesty sees there’s no problem,” Carel pointed out, not trying to hide how this pleased him.

Mathilde ignored him, turning back to the bed. “Because your guard must be here at all times. Think about that. You don’t want a female here while you’re being bathed, do you? Seeing you naked? Or watching you relieve yourself into a chamber?”

She emphasized those last words as if this were a crime of the highest order. Crispin cringed. There was no other way to describe the sudden movement the figure behind the draperies made.

“She wouldn’t look…” His voice went up so quickly it became a squeak. There was a loud gulp as he attempted to return it to a more kingly timbre. The shadowy head turned in his elder brother’s direction. “Carel, s-surely she wouldn’t…”

“Of course not.” Where Carel was short with his mother, his tone with his brother was quieter. Matter-of-fact, but slightly pacifying as if he were speaking to someone much, much younger. “Whenever you’re being bathed, Janel will turn her back. And she’ll never be in your company when you perform your other functions. Will you, Prive?” He directed this last question at me so suddenly I nearly jumped.

“C-certainly not, Sire.” It was the first time I’d been addressed directly since entering the room and I grimaced at that brief tremble in my voice. I hoped no one thought I was mocking my king’s stammer. “I swear His Majesty’ll have privacy.”

“Let me remind you, Madame,” Carel went on, pressing the point. “If Prive Redhu’s sent away, the Lady Commander’s next choice may be her son, Marius. You do remember Marius, Mother?”

At mention of my brother’s name, Lady Mathilde shuddered. There was no other way to describe the visible frisson going through that overweight little body. She muttered something. It sounded like “She wouldn’t dare.”

What the hell does that mean?

“Come closer, Prive.” A hand wavered through the draperies. It was waxen-pale, large but bony, almost as white as the lawn sleeve covering it. The arm shook slightly as it extended, beckoning. “What are your orders concerning us?”

Before Lady Mathilde could object, I stepped forward and seized Crispin’s hand. It was as chill as a piece of alabaster, not like a living thing at all. Dropping to one knee, I pressed the cold fingers to my forehead.

“I’m to protect you, Your Majesty, and keep your enemies at bay.”

The hand withdrew, pulling me to my feet as it disappeared back inside the sanctuary of the bed. “Then it’s all right. She can s-stay, Mother.”

“But—” Mathilde wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“His Majesty has spoken, Madame,” Carel pointed out, and the finality in his own voice also held triumph. Got another one past her, it seemed to say. I was beginning to wonder just how much filial devotion there actually was between Mathilde and her sons. Not much that I could see.

Buy Link: http://www.classactbooks.com/Lovers-of-Leonesse-Book-One-The-Kings-Swordswoman-by-Toni-V-Sweeney-Trade_p_331.html

Blood Sin is a cautionary tale. The story of a prince who falls in love with the wrong woman and pays the price for that crime, it is the first of a series called The Kan Ingan Archives.(The kan Ingans apparently had no shame in recording their deeds and mis-deeds for posterity!) Blood Sin has had a singular history. In reality, it was the second novel in the series to be written; in the 70's when I wrote what was intended to be a stand-alone novel. About ten years later, I got to thinking about the background to that story. I ended up writing of happened before Blood Sin took place--about the crime he committed, and the acts leading up to it. A prequel, if you will, that eventually became Book One.

During all this switching and re-writing, I also decided to relate the stories to The Chronicles of Riven the Heretic by having my hero (Erik Brand) be a direct descendent of the hero of The Chronicles. That necessitated a change of name and spelling, so he became Aric kan Ingan. Since Riven was considered the ancestor of the ruling family in the Emeraunt Galaxy, Aric became the Crown Prince of the current branch. The story came mostly out of my own imagination but I will admit it has a vague resemblance to the ancient Greek myth of Phaedra. You know...older man, young wife, young handsome male relative...prime ingredients for disaster. That story's been played out a thousand times in a thousand variations--especially on the daily Soaps--since Euripides introduced Phaedra in his drama Hippolytus in 428 BC. (The ancient Greeks, by the way, didn't receive it appreciatively. Too immoral, they decided.)

Blood Sin was submitted to 6 publishers--and rejected by all of them. At this point, I'll repeat myself, so those of you who know this story, don't listen! Shortly after the last rejection, Danielle Kaheaku of Leucrota Press, called me to give me her reasons for not accepting the story. She talked to me for nearly thirty minutes while I occasionally asked her to slow down because I was taking notes. At the end of her conversation, she told me if I would act on her suggestions, re-work some sections and add more characterization, she would review the manuscript again.

The rest, as they say, is history...

So, here's the Promo: Blood Sin, the story of a man destined to be the most powerful person in the galaxy until that troublemaker Cupid skewers him with one of those devastating little darts. A man accused of committing a crime and unable to prove himself innocent because to do so would reveal he's committed an ever greater crime. It's got plenty of love, sex, and violence. (Who could ask for anything more?)

Blood Sin will be released in August by Leucrota Press. It can be pre-ordered from www.amazon.com. For a preview, here's the trailer: