Showing posts with label fantasy romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy romance. Show all posts

Aug 4, 2014

Blog Tour & Giveaway: The Winter King by C.L. Wilson


Today, I'd like to welcome The Winter King Blog Tour.  
Please scroll down to learn more about this amazing book.
If you like the excerpt, then be sure to click a buy link to purchase the book. 
Giveaway: 
Enter the rafflecopter for a chance to win a copy of The Winter King complete with a white rose snow globe pendant reminiscent of the book!  

The Winter King
C.L. Wilson

Genre: Fantasy Romance

Publisher: Avon Romance

ISBN 13: 9780062018977

Book Description:

Wynter Atrialan, the Winter King, once lived in peace with his southern, Summerlander neighbors, but when Falcon, the prince of Summerlea, stole Wynter’s bride and murdered his young brother, Wynter vows vengeance. Calling upon a dangerous Wintercraig magic called the Ice Heart, he gathers his armies and marches against Summerlea, crushing their armies and spreading icy winter in his wake.

After three long, bitter years of battle, Summerlea is defeated and Wynter comes to the heart of the kingdom to issue his terms for their surrender. The prince of Summerlea stole Wynter’s bride and slew Wynter’s Heir. He wants the loss replaced. The Ice Heart is consuming him. Wynter hopes holding his own child in his arms will rekindle the warmth of love and melt the Ice Heart before he becomes the monster of Wintercraig legend, the Ice King.

The Summer King has three very precious daughters whom he loves dearly. Wynter will take one of them to wife. She will have one year to provide him with an Heir. If she fails, he will turn her out in the ice and snow of the mountains and claim another princess for his wife. And so it will continue until Wynter has his Heir or the Summer King is out of daughters. All the while, Wynter will enjoy the vengeance of knowing the Summer King will suffer each day without his beloved daughter(s), as Wynter suffers each day without his own beloved brother.

The plan is perfect—except for one small detail. The Summer King has a fourth daughter. One of which he is not so fond.

Blamed as a child for the death of her beloved mother, Khamsin Coruscate, the forgotten princess of Summerlea, has spent her life hidden from the world like an embarrassing secret. Dressed in cast-off gowns and left to her own devices, with only the determination of her loyal nursemaid to ensure she receives the education befitting an Heir to the Summer Throne, Khamsin haunts the abandoned towers and gardens of Summerlea’s royal palace, close to her beloved late mother’s treasures, and waits for the day her father will recognize her as a Princess of the Rose. But though she dreams of the valor and sacrifices of ancient Summerlea heroes and pines for paternal love that will never come, Khamsin is no sweet, gentle, helpless princess-in-a-tower. She is a fiercely passionate creature with a volatile, rebellious temper that is often as reckless and destructive as the dangerous forces of her weathergift, the power of storms.

Together will their stormy personalities be able to meld or will their powers destroy not only their love but the whole world?

Add it to your GoodreadsShelf


Available for purchase at Avon Romance Amazon  BN  Kobo

About the Author:

C. L. WILSON grew up camping and waterskiing across America, from Cherry Creek reservoir in Denver, CO, to Lake Gaston on the border of Virginia and North Carolina, to Georgia’s Lake Lanier and Lake Allatoona. When she wasn’t waterskiing and camping on family vacations, you could usually find her with a book in one hand and a sketch pad in the other—either reading, writing stories, or drawing. Sometime around the ninth grade, she decided she was better at drawing her pictures with words than paints and charcoals, and she set aside her sketchpad to focus entirely on writing.

Wilson is active in Tampa Area Romance Authors (TARA), her local chapter of Romance Writers of America. When not engaged in writerly pursuits, she enjoys golfing, swimming, reading, playing video games with her children, and spending time with her friends and family. She is also an avid collector (her husband says pack rat!), and she’s the proud owner of an extensive collection of Dept. 56 Dickens and North Pole villages, unicorns, Lladro figurines, and mint condition comic books.

Wilson currently resides with her husband, their three wonderful children, and their little black cat, Oreo, in a secluded ranch community less than thirty miles away from the crystalline waters and sugar-sand beaches of Anna Maria Island and Siesta Key on Florida’s gulf coast.


Excerpt
Prologue ~ Scarlet on Snow

King’s Keep
Vera Sola, Summerlea
“Do you have to go?”  Seventeen year old Khamsin Coruscate clung to her beloved brother’s hand as if by her grip alone she could anchor him fast and keep him from leaving.
 “You know I do.  Our treaties with the Winter King are very important.”
“But you’ll be home soon?”  Whenever he was gone, the ancient walls of the royal palace of Summerlea that had been her home and her prison since birth seemed somehow more confining, more restrictive.
“Not this time, little sister.”  Falcon shook his head.  A strand of black hair that had pulled free of the queue at the back of his neck brushed against the soft, dark skin of his cheek.  “It will take weeks to negotiate the treaties.”
Khamsin scowled, and the wind began to gust, sending Kham’s habitually untamed hair whipping into her mouth and eyes.  “Why does he have to send you?  Why can’t his ambassador negotiate the treaty?  He’s sending you away because of me, isn’t he?  Because he doesn’t want you spending so much time with me.”  Her hands clenched into fists.  The wind sent her skirts flying and a dark cloud rolled across the sun.
Their father, King Verdan IV of Summerlea, didn’t love her. She knew that.  He kept her isolated in a remote part of the palace, hidden away from his court and his kingdom, on the pretext that her weathergifts were too volatile and dangerous and she couldn’t control them.  That was all true.  Kham’s gifts were dangerous, and she couldn’t control them any better than she could control her own temper.  Until now, however, he’d never stooped to sending his other children away to keep them from visiting her.
“Here now.  Be calm.”  Falcon smoothed her wayward curls back, tucking them behind her ears.  Compassion and pity shone softly in his eyes.  “I wish I didn’t have to leave you.  But Father believes I’ll have the best chance of getting what we want from Wintercraig, and I agree with him.”  Summerlea, once a rich, thriving kingdom renowned for its fertile fields and abundant orchards, had been in a slow decline for years. Although the nobles and king maintained a prosperous façade for political and economic purposes, beneath the gilded domes and bright splendor of Summerlea’s palaces and grand estates, the rough tatters of neglect were beginning to show.  “Besides, you won’t be alone while I’m gone.  You have Tildy and the Seasons.”
“It isn’t the same.  They aren’t you.”  He was the handsome Prince of Summerlea, charming, witty, heroic.  He’d lived a life of adventure, most of which he shared with her, entertaining her with the tales of his exploits…the places he’d seen, the people he’d met.  His hunts, his adventures, his triumphs.  No matter how much her nursemaid, Tildavera Greenleaf, doted on Khamsin, or how often the three other princesses, Autumn, Spring, and Summer, snuck away from their palace duties to spend time with their ostracized youngest sister, Falcon was the one whose visits she couldn’t live without.
“Now there’s a pretty compliment.  Careful, my lady.  You’ll turn my head.”  He smiled, and warmth poured into her.  It was no wonder the ladies of their father’s court swooned at the slightest attention from him.  Falcon had a magical way about him.  He could he literally charm the birds from the trees with his name-gift—controlling any feathered creature on a whim--and the weathergift inherent in his royal Summerlander blood was stronger than it had been in any crown prince in generations.  It was as if the Sun itself had taken up residence in his soul, and its warmth spilled from him each time he smiled.  
Kham took a deep breath.  The sharp edge of her temper abated, and in the skies, the gathering storm began to calm.  Perhaps King Verdan truly had chosen to send his only son as envoy to Wintercraig for political reasons.  Long, long ago, as a small child crying herself to sleep, she’d decided Falcon was the reincarnation of Roland Triumphant, the Hero of Summerlea, the brave King who had defeated an overwhelming invasion force with his wit, his weathergifts, and a legendary sword reputed to be a gift from the Sun God himself.    If anyone could charm the cold, savage folk of the north into concessions most favorable to Summerlea, Falcon could.
“Will you at least write to me?” she asked.
“I’ll send you a bird every week.”   He tapped her nose and gave her a charming, roguish grin. “Cheer up.  Just think of all the swordfights you’ll win when you’re fighting invisible opponents instead of me.”
Kham rolled her eyes.  He’d been teaching her sword-fighting for years, but she had yet to best him in a match.
“You know,” she said as they walked towards the doorway leading back into the palace, “it might actually be a good thing that you’ll be spending months in Wintercraig.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.  You can use that time to find out what happened to Roland’s sword.” 
Falcon tripped on an uneven flagstone and grabbed the trunk of a nearby tree to steady himself.  “I’m sure I’ll be much too busy to chase fairy tales, Storm.”
She frowned in surprise.  “But you’ve always believed the stories were true.” Blazing, the legendary sword of Roland Soldeus, had disappeared shortly after the heroic king’s death.   Legend claimed it was the Winter King, the father of Roland’s betrothed, who had spirited the sword away so Roland’s brother Donal couldn’t claim it.  Every royal Summerlea Heir for the last two millennia had dreamed of finding the legendary blade and bringing it back home where it belonged.  Falcon had spent years chasing lead after lead, determined that he would be the one to find Blazing and restore Summerlea to its former glory.
“What about those letters?” she added.  “The really old ones you found tucked in that monastery?  You said they proved the stories were true.”
“That was six years ago.  I was seventeen.  I wanted the stories to be true.”  He gave her a quick hug and a brotherly kiss on the forehead.  “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting with Father and his advisors to go over our list of demands and concessions one last time before I leave.  I’ll see you in a few months.”
“I’ll miss you every day.”  She trailed after him, feeling bereft and forlorn when Falcon turned the corner and disappeared from view.  But this time, she also felt confused. She’d never known Falcon to give up on something he felt passionately about.  And he’d been passionate about finding Roland’s sword.  He’d been certain he was on the right trail.  He’d shared his discoveries with her because he knew she was just as hungry as he to find the legendary sword.
So why would he deny it now?


Tour Giveaway:

A copy of THE WINTER KING, complete with a gorgeous white rose snow globe pendant reminiscent of the book!

Open to US Shipping



Mar 27, 2013

Spotlight & Giveaway: Silver Hollow by Jennifer Silverwood


Tour Wide Giveaway:
10 ebooks and 10 print copies - Print copies open to US shipping


Title:  Silver Hollow
Author: Jennifer Silverwood
Genre: Paranormal Romance/ Fantasy Romance/ Chick-lit
Publisher: SilverWoodSketches
Number of pages: 322
Word Count: 131, 325

Cover Artist: Najla Qamber

Paperback    Kindle   Smashwords

Book Description: 


Amie Wentworth writes paranormal romances, not because she is looking for a degree in ectoplasm, but because she's got bills to pay. Ever since her parents' car crash, she has been led a reclusive life and trusted books more than people. Not even a letter from her long-lost uncle, begging her to visit, gives Amie incentive for anything other than ire - until she is stabbed in an alley and brought back to life by a mysterious stranger.

After crossing the Atlantic to her father's homeland, Amie is dragged into the very sort of tale she is used to selling. Silver Hollow is a place of ancient traditions and supernatural dangers, where everything is the opposite of what it seems and few escape sane.

To make matters worse, the man who save her life keeps turning up and her would-be-murderer is still at large.

But when she comes face to face with the ugly truth, will she too be sucked into her father's  madness? Or will she discover that madness is just another name for honesty?

Silver Hollow Excerpt #2

The windows Amie passed on her mad dash back to her rooms betrayed the first glimpse of dawn. How her bare feet managed to take her back without getting splinters from the fallen wood beams or getting lost, she didn’t have time to dissect. Amie darted past the shadows, relieved when the West Wing was nearly behind her.
Home stretch, Wentworth! You’re almost there and you didn’t even last a week in track.
She grinned, touching the end of the feather sticking out of her robe pocket. This was her biggest mystery and most intriguing find. She wondered if any of the books Henry had put in her bookcase could shed some light.
Amie squinted and gasped when the distant candle light winked out of existence. The corner shadows literally moved to stand in front of her, blocking her vision. Confused and more than a little freaked out, Amie decided to just plunge through the gap. It had to be a trick of the eyes. She’d been awake most of the night, after all.
When she impacted the shadow, she realized too late it was hard as a brick wall. Within seconds she was flipped onto her back, the breath knocked out of her and the candelabra pooling wax onto the floor beside her head. She was too frightened to shout, flashbacks of the night she was attacked penetrating her mind. So she flinched when the shadows shifted and drew into her candle’s light to reveal the impression of a face.
Amie threw up her hands and scrambled backwards when the shadow reached to touch her. “Don’t come any closer! Get away from me!” she hissed, afraid to scream and wake the house. A part of her was still convinced this was a figment of her troubled imagination. Shutting her eyes, she willed the spirit to flee, then froze in terror when it spoke.
“Forgive me for startling you. I only intended to be certain ye were real, flying about the castle in yer nightdress as if ye had all the golems of the world at your back.”
“Your voice…” she whispered, blinked up at the source of the deeply masculine voice. “I feel like I’ve heard that before.” When he chuckled at her words she frowned, so he explained.
“I’ve been told a great many things by maidens far uglier and others with only a reflection of your true beauty, but never this. Tell me,” he said after a tense pause, where she focused on the reflection of her candle’s flames dancing in his black orbs, “what reason should a blood-filled woman have in the West Wing this night, lest she be a wight?” He was mocking her yet her curiosity won over her frustration.
“What’s a wight?” she asked and could have sworn his eyes shifted colors, from black to red to silver and then brilliant blue.
“A walking specter, milady, doomed to haunt its resting place forever.”
“I’m not a wight,” she said. For a long moment he said nothing, only peered intensely over her, until she felt the blackness would swallow her whole.
“Then neither am I, Jessamiene Wenderdowne,” he whispered, drawing back into the darkness. Amie’s heart was pounding, her blood racing. He shouldn’t have been able to leave so quickly. There were no other rooms past hers, no alcoves she had uncovered, or hidden passages to escape into. Yet as soon as his whisper was nothing more than a memory and his face had left her candle’s glow, she knew she was truly alone.


About the Author:

Jennifer Silverwood was raised deep in the heart of Texas and has been spinning yarns a mile high since childhood. In her spare time she reads and writes and tries to sustain her wanderlust, whether it's the Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania, the highlands of Ecuador or a road trip to the next town. 

After attending three different universities without managing to square a degree, she decided to the next logical thing; become a writer. Always on the lookout for her next adventure, in print or reality, she dreams of one day proving to the masses that everything really is better in Texas. 

She is the author of Heaven's Edge series and Silver Hollow. To stay tuned, please have a gander at her webiste:
Twitter- @JennSilverwood


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