Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

RELEASE DAY IS HERE!! Wicked Designs is Out! GIVEAWAY OPP!

After five long years of writing, editing, submissions, contracting, more editing...

AT LAST! My first novel Wicked Designs is out in the world for you wonderful readers to enjoy! I'm so excited to share it with you and I hope the story and the characters will move you!


Today is a day for Celebrations!  I want to share so much about my book with all of you! 

So what's Wicked Designs all about?

Here's the scoop:


The League of Rogues takes what they want—but have they taken on too much?

For too long Miss Emily Parr has been subject to the whims of her indebted uncle and the lecherous advances of his repulsive business partner. Her plan to be done with dominating men forever is simple—find herself a kind husband who will leave her to her books.

It seems an easy enough plan, until she is unexpectedly abducted by an incorrigible duke who hides a wounded spirit behind flashing green eyes.

Godric St. Laurent, Duke of Essex, spends countless nights at the club with his four best friends, and relishes the rakish reputation society has branded him with. He has no plans to marry anytime soon—if ever. But when he kidnaps an embezzler’s niece, the difficult debutante’s blend of sweetness and sharp tongue make him desperate for the one thing he swears he never wanted: love.

Yet as they surrender to passion, danger lurks in Godric’s shadowed past, waiting for him to drop his guard—and rob him of the woman he can’t live without.

Warning: This novel includes a lady who refuses to stay kidnapped, a devilish duke with a dark past, and an assortment of charming rogues who have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into.

  
Here's a little taste of the story...



Godric St. Laurent, the twelfth Duke of Essex, leaned back in his saddle watching the abduction he’d orchestrated unfold. Covering his mouth with a gloved hand, he stifled a yawn. Things were going smoothly. In fact, this entire kidnapping bordered on the point of tedious. They’d intercepted the coach ten minutes before it reached Chessley House. No one witnessed the escort of riders or the driver changing his route. Oddly enough, the young woman hadn’t shown any signs of resistance or concern from inside the coach. Wouldn’t she have made some protestations when she realized what was happening? A thought stopped him dead. Had she somehow slipped out of the coach when they’d slowed on a corner before they’d left town? Surely not, they would have seen her. Most likely she was too terrified to do anything, hence the silence from inside. Not that she had anything to fear, she would not be harmed.
He nodded to his friend Charles who was perched next to the driver. A bag of coins jingled as Charles dropped it into the jarvey’s waiting hands.
They had reached halfway point between London and Godric’s ancestral estate. They would go the rest of the way on horseback, with the girl sharing a horse with either him or one of his friends. The driver would return to London with a message for Albert Parr and a wild story that exonerated himself from blame.
“Ashton, stay here with me.” Godric waved his friend over while the others rode the horses a good distance away to wait for his signal. Abductions were tricky things, and having only himself and one other man take hold of the girl would be better. She might have a fit of hysterics if she saw the other three men too close.
He rode up to the coach, curious to see whether the woman inside matched his memory. He’d seen her once before from a window overlooking the gardens when he’d visited her uncle. She’d been kneeling in the flowerbeds, her dress soiled as she weeded. A job more suited to a servant than a lady of quality. He’d been ready to dismiss her from his mind when she’d turned and glanced about the garden, a smudge of dirt on the tip of her upturned nose. A butterfly from a nearby flower had fluttered above her head. She hadn’t noticed it, even as it settled on her long, coiling auburn hair. Something in his chest gave a funny little flip, and his body had stirred with desire. Any other woman so innocent would not have caught his interest, but he’d glimpsed a keenness in her eyes, a hidden intelligence as she dug into the soil. Miss Emily Parr was different. And different was intriguing.
Ashton handed the driver the ransom letter for Parr and took up a position near the front of the coach. Taking hold of the door, Godric opened it up, waiting for the screaming to start.
None came.
“My deepest apologies, Miss Parr—” Still no screaming. “Miss Parr?” Godric thrust his head into the coach.
It was empty. Not even a fire-breathing dragon of a chaperone, not that he’d expected one. His sources had assured him she would be alone tonight.
Godric looked over his shoulder. “Ash? You’re sure this is Parr’s coach?”
“Of course. Why?” Ashton jumped off his horse, marched over and thrust his head into the empty coach. He was silent a long moment before he withdrew. Ashton put his finger against his lips and motioned to the inside. A tuft of pink muslin peeped out from the wooden seat. He gestured for Godric to step away from the coach.
Ashton lowered his voice. “It seems that our little rabbit chase has turned into a fox hunt. She’s hidden in the hollow space of the seat, clever girl.”
“Hiding under the seat?” Godric shook his head, bewildered. He didn’t know one woman of his acquaintance who would do something so clever. Perhaps Evangeline, but then if anything could be said of that woman, it was that she was far from ordinary. A prickling of excitement coursed through his veins, into his chest. He loved a challenge.
“Let’s wait a few minutes and see if she emerges.”
Godric looked back at the coach, impatience prickling inside him. “I don’t want to wait here all night.”
“She’ll come out soon enough. Allow me.” Ashton walked back to the coach and called out to Godric in a carrying voice. “Blast and damnation! She must have slipped out before we took charge of the coach. Just leave it. We’ll take the driver back to London tomorrow.” Ashton shut the door with a loud slam and motioned for Godric to join him.
“Now we wait,” Ashton whispered. He indicated that he would guard the left coach door while Godric stationed himself at the right.

Emily listened to the drum of retreating hooves and silently counted to one hundred. Her heart jolted in her chest as she considered what the men would do if they caught her. Highwaymen could be cruel and murderous, especially if their quarry offered little. She had no access to her father’s fortune, which left only her body.
Icy dread gripped Emily’s spine, paralyzing her limbs. She drew a breath as anxiety spiraled through her.
I must be brave. Fight them until I can fight no more. With trembling hands, she pushed at the roof of the seat, wincing as it popped open. Once she climbed out, she brushed dirt from her gown, noticing some tears from the rough wood on the inside of the seat. But the tears held no importance. All that mattered was survival.
Emily looked out the coach window. Nothing stood out in the darkness. Only the faint glimmer of moonlight touched the road with milky tendrils. Stars winked and flickered overhead, pale lights, distant and cold. A shudder wracked her frame, and Emily hugged herself, wanting so much to be at home. She missed her warm bed and her parents’ murmurs from down the hall. It was a comfort she’d taken for granted. But she couldn’t afford to think about them, not when she was in danger.
Were the men truly gone? Could it really be this easy?
She opened the coach door, and stepped down onto the dirt road. Strong arms locked about her waist and yanked her backward. The collision with a hard body knocked the breath from her lungs. Terror spiked her blood as she struggled against the arms that held her.
“Good evening, my darling,” a low voice murmured.
Emily screamed once, before she bit down on the hand that covered her mouth. She tasted the smooth leather of fine riding gloves.
The man roared and nearly dropped her. “Damn!”
Emily rammed an elbow backwards into her attacker’s stomach and began to wrestle free until he grabbed her arm. She swung about, striking him across the face with a balled fist. The man staggered back, leaving her free to dive inside the coach.
If she could get to the other side and run, she might stand a chance. She scrabbled towards the door, but never made it. The devil surged into the coach after her. Turning to face him, she was knocked flat onto her back.
She screamed again as his body settled over hers.
The dim moonlight revealed his bright eyes and strong features.
He caught her flailing wrists, pinning them above her head. “Quiet!”
Emily wanted to rake his eyes out, but the man was relentless. His hips ground against hers and panic drove her to a new level of terror. Her fears of being forcibly taken surfaced as his warm breath fanned over her face and neck. She shrieked, and he reared back away from her, as though the sound confused him.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice vibrated with a low growl, ruining any promise his words might carry.
“You’re hurting me now!” She yanked her arms uselessly against his hold.
The man eased off her somewhat, and Emily took her chance. She tucked her knees up, and with all the power she could summon, she kicked. Her attacker stumbled out the open door and fell onto his back. Emily barely registered that he was winded before she turned and exited the other side of the coach.
The moment she emerged, another man lunged for her. To escape him, Emily fell back against the side of the coach. Rather than grab her, he held his arms wide to keep her from slipping by him, like he was corralling livestock.
“Easy, easy,” he purred.
Emily whipped her head to the left and pleaded with her mind to think, but the man she’d bitten rounded the corner and pounced, pinning her against the coach, his arms caging her in. His solid muscular body towered over her. His jaw clenched as though one move from her would trigger something dark and wild. Emily’s breath caught, and her heart pounded violently against her ribs.
The man was panting and angry. The intensity of his eyes mesmerized her, but the second he blinked, the spell broke and she fought with every bit of strength she could muster.



I hope you enjoyed this excerpt! If you want to know what happens, then get your copy today at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Itunes.  

GIVEAWAY OPPORTUNITY!! I'm so excited about Wicked Designs coming out that I'm offering three free books to three lucky people who subscribe to my newsletter!  Go to my website http://www.laurensmithbooks.com  and sign up for my newsletter. You'll be instantly entered for the drawing to win one of the three copies of Wicked Designs! 
  




Friday, December 14, 2012

12 Days of Christmas- My Regency Short Story Free

Hey Readers!

I'm happy to announce I'm participating in my local RWA's chapter of the 12 Days of Christmas.




Each day one author from our chapter will be posting a short story. All of the stories take place at the same ball on Christmas Day at Pemberton Hall in England in 1814. 

I wrote the second story "Two Turtle Doves."  


When Nathan, the Duke of Hastings, discovers that his long lost love, Theodosia Swann is attending the ball at Pemberton, he can't believe his luck. After breaking off their love affair ten years before when his father hadn't approved of the match, Nathan has regretted letting his one great love get away.

Now, with snow on the ground, mistletoe hanging above doorways, and Christmas magic in the air, Nathan hopes to find Thia and make her fall in love with him all over again. 

Will he find a way to make her forgive him for breaking her heart and will she still love him?  Come by and see!



Here's a brief teaser of Two Turtle Doves:



His mouth dried, and he struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat. His body froze at the sight of her, stiff and taut with indecision. Should he go to her? What would she want? Would she be happy to see him? Perhaps she hated him? Or had she dreamt of him every night, as she lay alone in her bed, as he did her?
 Lady Theodosia Swann stood out in the midst of her six younger sisters like a northern star in the winter skies, shimmering, glittering, all alone in the dark expanse of the inky universe. Yet, she was none the weaker for it. She was brighter, more enchanting.
Thia. My Thia.
As tiny as she was—he towered over her by a head and a half—she captured his full attention. He was enraptured by her as he watched her whisper something to one of her sisters. Her amber hair caught the light of the candles nearest her, a beacon shining for him. Her eyes, jade pools frosted with silver, glanced about the room, unaware of the steady heat of his own gaze.
Nathan sucked in a harsh breath as his body stirred to life with a level of arousal he’d thought he’d never feel again. Ten years had wrought great changes in her. In them both. The lithe-bodied girl of nineteen he’d swept across ballrooms in her first season was gone. In her place was a woman infinitely more alluring, with luscious curves his hands itched to shape, and pale pink lips he longed to explore with his own. Were they as soft as he remembered?
She smoothed her hands over her dark green gown and tugged at the puffed sleeves trimmed with lace. Her full breasts were accented by a square cut neckline and a bodice embroidered with holly leaves. When she shifted, he caught a glimpse of the shape of her legs as the silk, drawn up in festoons with more holly leaves, rustled and clung to her. Most men preferred younger women, barely out of their first Season, but Nathan couldn’t think of anything more lovely, more sensual, than a full-grown woman, who had a body worth holding, worth making love to endlessly into the night.
Her gaze swept the room and his gut clenched a second before her eyes hit him with the force of a physical blow. He swallowed hard as he watched as her cheeks turned from pink to ash. The look on her face robbed him of breath. Sadness haunted her, and he hated seeing it, seeing her so wounded. She looked as destroyed on the outside at seeing him, as he was on the inside since the day he’d broken both their hearts.
His heart cried out for her. Things are different now. I’m not the fool I once was, and I’m not under my father’s control.
       Thia stared at him for a moment longer, and then turned and moved swiftly away, running from him. He had to speak to her, apologize for everything he’d done to ruin their happiness ten years ago. He prayed he wasn’t too late.


Dying to know what happens next?

Go here to read the rest of the story and stayed tuned to the Wild Okies Blog for the rest of the stories!

http://www.wildokies.blogspot.com/2012/12/my-true-love-gave-to-metwo-turtle-doves.html

Monday, January 2, 2012

Mistletoe Mischief winner and thoughts on a new year!

CONGRATULATIONS to Aileen, the winner of my Mistletoe Mischief Giveaway!  I'll be contacting you regarding your prize.

As the new year starts off, everyone is asking that age old question: What are your resolutions?  In past years I've laughed and said I have none, that there is little I feel I need to change about how I'm living my life.
Strangely this year I feel perhaps I do have some resolutions, or goals rather. 
1) Getting back to the gym- never before has this been an issue. But it definitely is now. 
2) Getting a short story published as an ebook.  This has really become a focus for me within the last few months of 2011.  I want to have my name out there, see it on a ebook shelf  and be able to pat myself on the back after three years of doggedly pursuing bigger projects.
3) Getting my first regency manuscript in top shape for two editors who are interested in its revisions.
4) Studying the craft of writing.

It is perhaps this last goal that will require my diligence.  I am not someone who buys a ton of "how to" books, but I do find that I want to read some on occasion, especially if its an area that I feel I need help on.  I tend to steer clear of books that teach me how to make a hook or interest the reader from the first page.  I've been told I don't need help with that, which is a relief.  But there are smaller things I know are weaknesses.  An agent told me that emotion is key, and my characters weren't quite there yet.  This is the sort of subsection of craft I need to be studying.

So with this in mind, I plan to make 2012 all about my craft, learning it, honing it and polishing it so that 2012 becomes the year where dreams come true.

I hope everyone else out there has a great set of goals and the inspiration and time to follow through with them.  It's important to know yourself and the goals you set in order to maximize your dreams.  I wish everyone a fantastic new year.

Feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you're hoping to achieve this year!