Hello Coffee Time Romance fans! It’s been a while since I was here, but I’m glad to be back and very excited to be a one of the guest bloggers for CTR’s Celtomania!

For those of you who don’t know me, I am an historical romance writer with two award-winning books under my belt. They’re the first two books in the Emerald Isle Trilogy and the whole premise of the series is a love story about two men (a Viking warrior and a strapping Irish archer) in love with the same woman.

RÆLIKSEN introduces us to all three characters, in the tumultuous time period of 10th Century Ireland, but delves specifically into the love that the Norse hero, Dægan Ræliksen, has for the Irish princess. MAC LIAM, on the other hand, continues where RÆLIKSEN leaves off, and takes the reader further into the plot as the Irish hero, Breandán Mac Liam, contends with a strong emotional pull toward the princess as well. Believe me when I tell you, these two books will have you rooting for both heroes and dying to read to the third, which releases December 2011.

Today, I thought I’d feature excerpts from both books just to give you, Celtic enthusiasts, a taste.  I do hope you enjoy them, and if you leave me a comment/question, I will be giving away an ebook copy of either book to one random commenter–winner’s choice!

“I know you are afraid,” he allotted with a sigh, “especially being so far from home with a man preconceived as a savage. If that is all you think of me from this day forth, then so be it. But I will not let you slander me as being a man without honor or without my kept word. I gave my word I would take you back home and I will. Furthermore, you are not my slave, nor do I have hopes of it later. I am a chieftain who already has his fill of thralls and I simply want a wife.”

“You cannot be serious!”

Dægan snickered. “After what I went through today, I would think there would be no question.”

Mara’s breath drained from her lungs. “This cannot happen.”

“Why not?” he asked leaning in closer.

“My father simply will not allow it.”

“Would you allow it?” he asked, boldly taking her into his arms.

At first, Mara was shocked at how daring he chose to be by taking away the little comfort of space between them, fighting the affects of his sultry eyes, his rugged aroma, and his breath upon her cheek with all she had. But all in all, she could do little about it. She was torn between the spoonful of endearment being shoved down her throat, and the inviting warmth of his arms.

“You have not answered me, princess,” he teased, wrenching her closer to tuck his head in the crevice of her jaw.

“H-how can I answer you?” she shuddered in response, feeling the slight tickle and warmth of his breath as he audaciously smelled the oils upon her skin.

“Just open your mouth and speak.”

Before she could even utter one word of resistance, he skimmed his lips over her chin and softly covered hers. She couldn’t move for it was the first kiss she had ever experienced in all her nineteen years, as well as the most pleasant of gestures received. Her thoughts whirled around her so quickly. She felt the warm softness of his mouth, the heat that radiated from his skin, and the red-blooded strength of his arms holding her tightly to his chest as the world around her ceased to exist.

Her eyes rolled back and she fell limp in his arms, finding herself welcoming the gentle caresses of his tongue parting her mouth. He went deeper, tasting her, but never rough or demanding, just easing his tongue in as much as she would allow. He played with her, pulling away tenderly, then delving back in, taking every sweetened gasp from her like a thief.

She was very responsive to his touch and he continued to kiss her intensely, letting her virgin tongue dare to return his kiss as well. He moaned softly in her mouth, a noise hardly to be heard, but it was enough to make her open her eyes and find his swirling in drunken lustfulness.

His unashamed forwardness sent her fleeing, but his embrace enveloped her with a passion she had never felt before. There was a strange heat that burned low in her stomach and a cool rush of shivers from the top of her neck down her spine, his kiss feeding both of those glorious feelings at once.

She stared at him, barely being able to breathe as he dwelled near her lips. He was a mountain of strength and an endless vision of beauty; two things that both scared her and kept her leeching for more. She was trapped in his eyes, caught in the very clutches of his hungry stare, and given the circumstances, it was hard to know if it was the pull of sheer attraction that held her motionless, or just blinding fear.

Dægan looked at her askance. “You look frightened”¦”

She opened her eyes as she felt his tender touch across her cheekbone, his words echoing in her ears while, together, they still held pressure to his brow.

“I am afraid”¦” she began, trying to ignore the warmth flushing her skin from the neck up. But even as she listened to the words she wanted to say next in her head, they still didn’t sound right. She tried another way. “I think I want to kiss you. I think. But”¦I am afraid. I am afraid when I close my eyes, all I will see is Dægan. And “tis not fair to you. I want not to hurt you.”

Breandán stroked a piece of loose hair from her face and smiled, which almost seemed to represent astonishment for her wanting to kiss him rather than happiness. She watched that thought tumble around in his head for a bit, not knowing what he’d do or say next. She assumed he’d retract both hands from her and slip back into the reserved gentleman he had always been. But strangely, he didn’t seem interested in letting her go, still holding tight to the hand upon his wound.

“Is that all you are afraid of?” he asked, his eyes deeply gazing into hers.

Her words failed her now. Flat out failed her as his stare captured her. He was such a beautiful man with his dark hair and light eyes, his touch rippling through her body, and she nearly fell limp. She could only nod her head.

Breandán released his left hand from hers and brought it up to meet the other, though she remained holding the linens above his eye. Tenderly, he clasped her face, his thumbs caressing her ever so lightly. “If you fear you will only see Dægan when you close your eyes, then leave them open.”

Her heart stopped.

Her breath caught as he drew near, his eyes falling on her lips. He was going to kiss her. He was actually going to kiss her and she hadn’t the will to stop him. Her body felt as pliable as bread dough in his hands and nothing else mattered but what he was about to do.

She wanted this.

Wanted it more now that he was pulling her closer.

She felt chills crawl up her spine and a heat pooling at her core, barely remembering how those sensations had once felt, but liked their sudden return all the same. She only wished she knew what she was doing, wished she had a better hold of her emotions.

He was so close to pressing his lips to hers that she could smell his masculine scent as clear as if she were burying her nose in his tunic. And she could feel his breath scarcely caressing her top lip as he lingered. Her eyelids automatically closed with anticipation, but his voice stopped her.

“Open your eyes, Mara,” he said in a gentle, heated whisper. “Open them and know “tis I who is kissing you.”

She dragged them open, his voice like a subtle touch, soothing and erotic. His aqua eyes were mesmerizing as they held hers all the way to the moment their lips finally met. Fire burned through her as the heat of his soft lips branded her own. All she could see and feel was him. All she could think about was how wonderful his mouth felt on hers, how sensuous his kiss was.

“Breathe, a thaisce.”

Until he spoke, she hadn’t realized she was holding her breath and was doubly amazed he was perceptive enough to notice.

He slowly released her face. “Tell me,” he whispered, his eyes sultry and beguiling. “Who did you see when I kissed you?”

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