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Showing posts with label AtoZ Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AtoZ Challenge. Show all posts

Thursday, April 12, 2012

April A to Z Challenge Letter "L" = The Legend of Lady MacLaoch DELETED SCENE #AtoZChallenge @AprilA2Z @BeckyBanks

*MATURE CONTENT*


Welcome to day twelve of the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge.
Today's letter is "L" and my topic is = The Legend of Lady MacLaoch.

Thanks to my special friend and author; Becky Banks, she has given me a *deleted scene* from her book for our reading pleasure. However, there are two things you should know. 

1. I did not know about the length "rule" before I asked Becky to be apart of this event, so this scene is rather lengthy but you really DO want to read it. I promise! 

2. It is for mature audiences only.


The Legend of Lady Maclaoch



A legendary love, an unforgiving curse, and the discovery of a lifetime ...

Centuries ago a vengeful curse buried itself deep into the history of the MacLaoch clan and become a legendary tale told by all those not cursed by its words.
In present-day Scotland, the laird and chieftain of the MacLaoch clan is an ex-Royal Air Force fighter pilot who has been past the gates of hell and returned a changed man. Rowan MacLaoch does battle with wartime memories and a family curse that threaten to consume him—unaware that his life and that of the history of the clan will be changed forever by the arrival of an American woman.

Cole Baker, a feisty recent graduate of a master’s program, stumbles upon the ancient curse while researching her bloodlines. Moved by the history of the MacLaoch clan and the mystery of its chief, she digs into the legend that had been anything but quiet for centuries.

On their quest for answers, Cole and Rowan travel to places they have never before been and become witnesses to things they have never before fathomed. The legend—one started with blood—will end with more shed as its creator finally exacts her justice.

And now for our deleted scene! Hold on tight...


The South Carolina peach orchard was warm with the promise of the heat that would come later that afternoon. The humidity was sultry and hair-curlingly pleasant in the green shade of field eleven’s freshly harvested peach trees. The grass was as it was in my dream (a dream that felt like a million years ago) patchy and green only where the cool waters of the irrigation system had spread. I leaned against the nearest tree and sought to memorize my family’s orchard knowing it was inevitable that I would not be walking it for sometime. 

Rowan was due back to the house soon where we would have dinner with my family 
before driving to the airport and eventually back home to Skye. As if the simple thought of his name conjured him from the warm southern air I spotted him coming sideways toward me from the direction of the house. 

“There ye are,” he called out. Rowan wore a well-fitted collard shirt with slacks and a pair of newly purchased designer flip-flops, a concession he reluctantly made to the heat. Smiling brightly, though somewhat nervously he closed the distance between us swiftly and kissed me before I could get in a hello. 

I laughed as his kiss lingered and deepened like a man starved of a woman's touch, “I take it your trip into town was successful?” I asked when I came up for air. 

“Aye, I found what I wanted, and he did quite good.” He said and reached into his pocket as the early afternoon sunlight dimmed over the orchard, “He was able to refurbish something I've been working hard tae get released tae me from the estate. Did ye know that he’s a Scot too? Dinnae keen tha' until today, his family are Campbell’s.” he said and smiled nervously as he pulled out a velvet black box, “I told him tha's alright he cannae help it.” Rowan's nervous smile waivered. 

“Rowan.” I said, looking at the box – my heart going light. We had been culturally married for sometime since our hand-tying earlier in the year, but we had yet to formalize it with rings. 

Rowan opened the box, “Oh my god . . .” I heard my voice say. 

“I finally got this released tae me.” he said then sank to one knee holding up the ring of Lady MacLaoch. 

“Cole?” he started, “I know tha' ye have already tied yourself tae me, but allow me tae beg ye one last time and seal it with the gold tha’ was always meant tae be yours. Before I met ye, I was a man in a shell walking through this life waiting for the moment when God would reach down and take me off this Earth. The day I met ye was the first day I dinnae think of Vick, the first day I dinnae think tha' I was born as punishment by the curse.” his breathing became heavy as emotion choked him. “All I could think was where did tha' crazy American go? Where is she now? I wanted tae be everywhere with ye, watching and listening tae tha' funny way ye talk. Then I wanted tae feel what your skin felt like, what it would taste like tae kiss ye and knew with what was left of my heart that ye were the one I wanted tae spend the rest of my life with. Cole,” he continued softly his eyes becoming moody, “will ye ease my heart once again and acquiesce to my begging and be my wife, my partner and my love forever?” 

I felt his words resonate within me, as emotional tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, “Yes. The answer will always be yes, Rowan MacLaoch.” And leaning down I cupped the side of his face and kissed him softly. 

Rowan plucked the ring from its protective velvet pillow; thunder, moody and deep, rolled in the distance. The ring slipped onto my finger as the winds changed directions blowing strands of my hair in my face. Despite my temporary blindness I felt the cool of the ancient metal warm instantly as if itself was coming to life. 

A sigh escaped my lips as I brushed my hair back with my other hand and looked at the ring. Rowan held it in his as he stood and brought his other around my waist, the gold band despite a fresh cleaning still looked as if it were from centuries past. The clan insignia carved delicately around the band with thistle and interlocking Celtic knots. 

“Finally,” he said, “it’s come home.” “Home.” I said feeling that word resonate within me. 

Rowan put his lips to mine as thunder cracked opening the sky above us and rain belted down through the leaves of the orchard, warm and satisfying from the heavens. 

In the time it took for us to place our lips upon each other’s and come up for air next, we were thoroughly rain soaked. The thunderclouds rumbled and roared in the near distance reminding me of a force that once brought rain and heavenly power down upon our heads before. Only this time we were in it. 

Arms and necks, wet and slippery, Rowan pressed me gently back against the peach tree I had been leaning against. The humidity and descending rain made for an ethereal affect of the orchard. Steam lifted from the ground carrying with it the sweet pungent smell of the recently harvested peaches and plunged us into a watery mist. 

“Oh God tha’ feels good.” He said pulling his shirt off over his head. Fat droplets slithered down over his toned skin moving slow like a lover’s caress over the rise and fall of his lithe musculature. 

The rising steam and his rain slickened skin made my breath catch, he looked every part 
the Scottish warrior emerging from the mists. His bullet wounds stood out white against his skin at his shoulder and hip, making it feel all the more like a dream come to life. 

“If I remember correctly,” he said meeting my appreciative gaze, “ye had on a little less when we were here last.” 

Rowan leaned in and kissed me. Rain slithered down my neck and between my shoulder blades as he warmed my front with his own. His hand tucked under my shirt and with the other pressed me to the trunk of the tree and lifted my shirt up over my head. Flicking it to the ground he wasted no time in removing every other piece of clothing of his and mine while our lips and hands never left each other. 

Thunder rolled again, this time closer, its reverberations felt through the tree I was 
nakedly pressed against. 

“I dinnae think I can wait any longer. A week in your parents home in separate beds like wee ones is killing me.” He said against my neck. 

I closed my eyes and savored the feel of his unclothed and hardened body against mine, contrasting to the softness of his lips and gentleness of his touch. The latter becoming rougher with his increasing need. 

“Mmmm, we might be married,” I managed, “but not in the eyes of Carolina law or my mother.” 

“Aye, one and the same.” He said grasping me at the waist and lifting me off the ground. Instinctively I wrapped my legs around him as he sought refuge within me. Rowan and I groaned in unison as he slipped within, bark roughed up against my back as his first thrusts pushed me against the tree. Blissfully I slid my hands over his muscled shoulders, enjoying the feel of his power beneath my palms. I also noticed his gunshot shoulder shook with the exertion. 

Rowan paused breathing heavily in the moist air, “I dinnae,” he said stopping, “I’ll have tae put ye down. My shoulder.” He leaned back as he tried to lift me up. Thunder cracked over us again, “Oh,” I heard him say in pain just before we both crashed into the soft grass at the base of the peach tree. 

I found myself atop him, completely shrouded in mist, “Are you okay?” I asked, laying on his chest and gingerly touched the bullet scar at his shoulder. “Aye. Not used tae using the shoulder like tha’ yet.” He said giving me a grimacing smile. “I see.” I said kissing the place where my fingers had been then softly on his lips, “Let me help with that,” as rain pitter patted down upon my back in cool droplets, I slid back fitting him deep within me once more. 

Rowan groaned closing his eyes, “Aye, tha’ll do.” He said, slipping his hand up to my hip where I moved against him, then up over my waist and across my back tucking into my hair. He pulled my hair back from my face and secured it under his hand before resting his other on my rear gently pushing and pulling in rhythm. Rowan opened his eyes watching me and with a gentle tug at the back of my head brought my lips down to his as another rumbling groan escaped him. 

Erotic warmth swirled in my belly as I rode the man I’d been destined for centuries before we were ever born. The synchronous repetition of our lovemaking unfurled a yearning for him deep in my belly – despite our closeness, I needed him closer. Deeper. For him to slip under my skin and become one with my blood, for our breaths to become one and his soul to meld into mine. 

Quicker our pace became blowing flame to the thunderous emotional release that built within us. Our breath came in gasps as our lips found each other, slipping and tasting -our tongues mimicked our lovemaking. “Oh Rowan.” Escaped from between my lips, with an answer tearing somewhere beyond my comprehension from the sky. 

Our bodies, wet from rain and sweat, slid against each other. Rowan’s guidance became quicker, needing, begging for release. Tension gripped between my legs as I slid Rowan in and out of me, pushing and pulling us higher and higher. A groan rumbled in his chest, as my breasts tight with need rubbed against him. 

“Cole…” I heard from below me as pleasure twisted and pulled deep within my belly. The first ripples of convulsive pleasure teased out capturing my breath and begging for Rowan to love me harder. 

I felt his grip at my hip tighten, his fingers digging in as his hips rode up higher and faster to greet me, pushing himself farther and deeper within. My soul felt him as I tightened and contracted around his thick stroking heat. A rumbling feeling, as if pulled deep from the earth itself, caught my breath and released a long cry of pleasure as the orgasm we built shook us. 
Peaked, Rowan brought himself against me in quick succession before growling into his own release. 

As the last grips of the orgasm shuddered through our bodies, our breath became one, our blood pounded in unison and with the tight grip of MacLaoch gold on my ring finger I felt his soul meld into mine. 

“Forever Rowan.” I whispered against his lips. 

“Forever.” 


Okay. So that was, um.. HOT. 
You guys can find Becky at her website HERE!
The Legend of Lady MacLaoch can be purchased at Barnes & Noble and Amazon
Read my review of The Legend of Lady MacLaoch --> HERE!

Let's thank Becky Banks because she has been kind enough to donate a signed copy of her book for a giveaway! YAY! 

The Deets:

1. One entry per person.
2. You must be 18 or older.
3. Giveaway is International 
4. Giveaway ends at 11:59 p.m. on May 7th.

Enter Giveaway --> HERE!


Saturday, April 7, 2012

April A to Z Challenge Letter "G" = Germany #AtoZChallenge @AprilA2Z


Welcome to day seven of the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge.
Today's letter is "G" and my topic is = Germany.

 My friend Patricia who runs/owns the blog; BookExhibitionism is from and lives in Germany and she's going to tell us a little about it.


Hey everyone!

My name is Patricia and I'm the blogger behind BookExhibitionism. Don't ask about the name. I still think I was drunk when I chose it. ; ) 

Last month Amy asked me if I wanted guest-post something here for the April A to Z Challenge. What a hard decision! Hahah. Then she said that the post should be about Germany, because she was doing a few themed posts and Germany starts with a G. Oh, and I'm from Germany.

I thought about this post a lot. I wondered if I should write something about German stereotypes and cliches (I love almost all of them) or about how Sauerkraut is not our favorite food, even though I ate only that for one whole week to win a bet*, or about how hard it is to find good books here.
Todesfluch (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #5.2)

It's not that we don't have great authors - We have. Or that our translations suck - They just aren't the original*. But Germany is rather small in comparison to the USA, which means that there are fewer people who'll buy your books. 

Additionally our books are more expensive. 

The publisher "Piper" for example makes us pay 23 USD for the Black Dagger Brotherhood novels. And those are paperbacks.




Godspeed - Die Reise beginnt






But the more I thought about all of it, the more I realized that I don't want to talk about these things. It isn't that there is nothing remarkable about Germany, it's just that I have no idea what's interesting or not.

Maybe the fact that there are few people who admit they are proud of being German. I suppose that's not a surprise after Hitler, but it still saddens me.

The publisher "Dressler" actually cut the Hitler scene from Across The Universe in our copy. Apparently we Germans are too stupid to understand that Elder's assumption that Hitler was a good leader was.. wrong.

So, instead, I'd like you to tell me the best, funniest, worst, whatever, German cliches you know of!


I can't do an exclusive Giveaway, but everyone who leaves a comment here enters my AprilGiveaway over at BookExhibitionism. 
You can either win one of the books below or a copy of either Ruby Red or ArcadiaAwakens. 
In case you didn't know: Kerstin Gier and Kai Meyer are German authors. ; )


* I'm horrible when it comes to bets. I don't think there was ever one I accepted and lost.. Not OCDish at all. Har.

* I hated Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega books when I read them in German and loved them when I read them in English this year.


Okay, so that was totally awesome. 

Thank you so much, Patricia. You rocked my socks off!

Please remember to leave comments and questions for Patricia and you can find her at any of the links below.



Thursday, April 5, 2012

April A to Z Challenge Letter "E" = Eating Disorders #AtoZChallenge @AprilA2Z


Welcome to day five of the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge.
Today's letter is "E" and my topic is = EATING DISORDERS.
Eating Disorders are the real deal guys. We need to pay attention.

Here a few of my favorite books that deal with eating disorders.








::Stupid/ugly/stupid/bitch/stupid/fat/
stupid/baby/stupid/loser/stupid/lost::




Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.
Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat. Must. Not. Eat.

Must. Not. Eat.







“Dead girl walking,” the boys say in the halls.
“Tell us your secret,” the girls whisper, one toilet to another. 
I am that girl.
I am the space between my thighs, daylight shining through.

I am the bones they want, wired on a porcelain frame.

Wintergirls

The Pact
I took the knife out of my pocket and cut my palm, just a little. "I swear to be the skinniest girl in school, skinnier than you."
Cassie's eyes got big as the blood pooled in my hand.
She grabbed the knife and slashed her palm. "I bet I'll be skinnier than you."
"No, don't make a bet. Let's be the skinniest together."

"Okay, but I'll be skinnier."






1. Wintergirls,  by Laurie Halse Anderson
Lia and Cassie were best friends, wintergirls frozen in matchstick bodies. But now Cassie is dead. Lia's mother is busy saving other people's lives. Her father is away on business. Her step-mother is clueless. And the voice inside Lia's head keeps telling her to remain in control, stay strong, lose more, weigh less. If she keeps on going this way—thin, thinner, thinnest—maybe she'll disappear altogether.




Clean 

“What if I'm so broken I can never do something as basic as feed myself? 
Do you realize how twisted that is? It amazes me sometimes that humans still exist. 

We're just animals, after all. 
And how can an animal get so removed from nature that it loses the instinct to keep itself alive?”    —Olivia



2. Clean, by Amy Reed
You’re probably wondering how I ended up here. I’m still wondering the same thing. Olivia, Kelly, Christopher, Jason, and Eva have one thing in common: They’re addicts. Addicts who have hit rock bottom and been stuck together in rehab to face their problems, face sobriety, and face themselves. None of them wants to be there. None of them wants to confront the truths about their pasts. And they certainly don’t want to share their darkest secrets and most desperate fears with a room of strangers. But they’ll all have to deal with themselves and one another if they want to learn how to live.  Because when you get that high, there’s nowhere to go but down, down, down.



Purge

“We Bulimia Babes are always the first to the table, because we have this strange relationship with food. We want to eat it badly, but afterward we want to puke it up equally as badly. 

The anorexics are another story. They’ll do anything to avoid eating, including hiding out at mealtimes, because they have a hate-hate relationship with food. It ends up causing plenty of friction between the bulimics and the anorexics, because we’ll be sitting at the table ravenous, even for the gross Golden Slopes food, but we’re not allowed to start until every one of the eating disorder patients is present and whichever nurse is head of the Eating Police for that meal tells us we can begin. 

It ends up being like a gang war, except instead of the Sharks and the Jets or the Bloods and the Crips; it’s the Barfers and the Starvers.” —p.6







3. Purge, by Sarah Darer Littmann

From acclaimed author Sarah Darer Littman, a striking story about a girl's recovery from bulimia in the tradition of CUT, PERFECT, and GIRL INTERRUPTED.
Janie Ryman hates throwing up. So why does she binge eat and then stick her fingers down her throat several times a day? That’s what the doctors and psychiatrists at Golden Slopes hope to help her discover. But first Janie must survive everyday conflicts between the Barfers and the Starvers, attempts by the head psychiatrist to fish painful memories out of her emotional waters, and shifting friendships and alliances among the kids in the ward.



The Stone Girl

She feels like a creature out of a fairy tale; a girl who discovers that her bones are really made out of stone, that her skin is really as thin as glass, that her hair is brittle as straw, that her tears have dried up so that she cries only salt. 

Maybe that's why it doesn't hurt when she presses hard enough to begin bleeding: it doesn't hurt, because she's not real anymore.





4. The Stone Girl, by Alyssa B, Sheinmel


Sethie Weiss is hungry, a mean, angry kind of hunger that feels like a piece of glass in her belly. She’s managed to get down to 111 pounds and knows that with a little more hard work—a few more meals skipped, a few more snacks vomited away—she can force the number on the scale even lower. She will work on her body the same way she worked to get her perfect grades, to finish her college applications early, to get her first kiss from Shaw, the boy she loves, the boy who isn’t quite her boyfriend.

Sethie will not allow herself one slip, not one bad day, not one break in concentration. Her body is there for her to work on when everything and everyone else—her best friend, her schoolwork, and Shaw—are gone.
From critically acclaimed writer Alyssa B. Sheinmel comes an unflinching and unparalleled portrayal of one girl’s withdrawal, until she is sinking like a stone into her own illness, her own loneliness—her own self.






Eating Disorders are so common in the US that 1 or 2 out of every 100 kids will struggle with one, most commonly Anorexia or Bulimia. 

Unfortunately, many kids and teens successfully hide eating disorders from their families for months or even years.