Okay, I couldn’t resist posting this—and the dh and my three sons are Canucks so no one can accuse me of anything here. It’s just too cute. Love the Mounties!
Still chuckling!
Cheers,
Jianne
When World's Collide, Passions Ignite
Okay, I couldn’t resist posting this—and the dh and my three sons are Canucks so no one can accuse me of anything here. It’s just too cute. Love the Mounties!
Still chuckling!
Cheers,
Jianne
Well, it didn’t last long, but Branded by Étaín made it onto the Kindle Top 100 list!
And That Pearly Drop is #40 on the ARe Best Seller list (and it released in October – yay!).
I’ve never paid attention to these lists – too depressing if you never make them and too addictive to chart a new release’s dramatic climb and drop. For Branded though a fan emailed me the book’s rise and fall every couple of hours or so. Yuck. I hope never to know again. Honestly, I’d prefer to be blissfully unaware – it’s too easy to stumble into that I’ve-no-talent-and-should-quit crevasse.
So, today I’m grateful for the news, but plan to stop this maddening, obsessive, endless loop of checking book and author stats constantly.
I leave you with another titillating preview of Branded by Étaín:
“When begins The Choosing?”
“I know not if I will wait for it. I am loath to gamble on her choosing me.” Brand fingered the stubble on his chin.
Once every five summers on the last night of the festival of Lúnasa, the women of Caul Cairlinne could choose their mate. The church blessed the unions, which lasted a year and a day. After that time, the couples could decide to remain married or separate.
“’Twould be better if she picked you.”
“Aye, but what if she does not?” Brand’s gaze never wavered from the line of marriageable women weaving their way through the hall.
He held his breath when Étaín came into view. Her glorious golden curls hung in glistening tendrils clear to her knees. She had a habit of flaring her nostrils and firming her chin when all eyes were upon her. He knew in his gut she hated being the center of attention.
’Twas her obvious vulnerability that stirred him.
’Twas her startling beauty that had him hard and aching in a heartbeat.
He had studied her these past months searching for flaws, for the arrogance and conceit that always accompanied females of royal birth, and found naught. She spoke to beggar and princes alike with the same gentle inquiry, gifted all with a sparkling smile that twisted his belly into coils, and appeared unaware of the rough sailors and traders who stared at her with blatant, greedy lust.
A slight draft molded the fine linen of the leine she wore around her firm breasts. She blinked and unerringly swung her head and met his stare. A smile fluttered around her rosy lips.
Those haunting eyes the color of rich molasses spoke to him.
He fisted his hands, the urge to reach for her nigh overwhelming.
Mine.
She halted for a moment as if hearing his silent declaration, and the sheer joy lighting her features dazzled him. All the blood in his body pooled in his groin. Desire speared him.
Taking a deep breath, Brand inclined his head and smiled.
Her teeth gleamed snowy white under the flickering candles when she beamed at him. Giving a little shake of her head, she dipped into her basket and threw petals and green-needled twigs high into the air. A couple of skips and a hop later, she arrived at the dais, the last female to line up below the table, and made a graceful curtsey.
King Mac Eiccnigh mac Dalagh had taken his place on the dais and stood smiling benignly at the women standing before him, his gaze lingering on Étaín. The pride on his face could not be denied, nor the love.
Brand inspected the others present at the high table. He had made it his business to know who was who in Caul Cairlinne.
Étaín’s two younger sisters stood on either side of the king. Irvin, a distant relative, stood at the left end of table speaking with a couple of his warriors. To the right of King Mac Eiccnigh mac Dalagh, three of the men who stood as Caul Cairlinne’s elderly council watched the assembly while sipping from brass goblets. Five women who had seen at least two score summers stood whispering and grinning at the line of young women before the high table.
Two men on either side of the dais put long curved trumpets to their lips and blew. A series of triumphant, melodic blasts echoed around the great hall.
“Hear ye, hear ye,” one of the elders on the dais yelled.
“The ear of corn has been planted, the bull slaughtered,” another declared.
“’Tis time for The Choosing,” the last shouted.
“Princess Étaín, do you choose or not?” King Mac Eiccnigh mac Dalagh asked, his sole focus on his daughter.
The hall fell silent. Every pair of eyes in the packed chamber trained on the petite Princess.
Hope you enjoyed!
Cheers,
Jianne
Release day for a new book is both exhilarating and downright terrifying for me. My poor gray matter’s a-buzz with stinging questions and worry.
Will readers like it? OMG – are the reviewers going to trash it? Except for the copy my mom always buys, will anyone fork out the $ to purchase it?
Today’s no different from any of my other release days. My stomach’s rioting and all I can gulp down is way too much coffee.
At any rate, Branded by Étaín is now available from the regular suspects, but here are the three main links, the book blurb, cover, and another excerpt:
Can a princess tame a beast?
Princess Étaín of Caul Carlinne remains unsullied by her violent past. When she chooses Brand of Bärvik as her mate, has she brought havoc and destruction to her people?
Excerpt – Branded by Étaín, The Beasts of Bärvik Book One:
Étaín interrupted Margie’s third iteration of what to expect when Brand consummated their marriage. She had not a shred of worry that the act would be anything but wondrous. “Be done with it, Margie. My head fair throbs with thoughts of peckers, stones, pearls, and quims. I trust in Brand. Did he not say he would cherish me when Da asked? I am a truthsayer. He spoke truly.”
“He is a very large man.” Margie picked up a tortoise shell horsehair brush and stroked Étaín’s springy curls.
“So is your Darren.”
“I am twice your height and weight. ’Tis easier for a woman like me to accommodate a large pecker. You must not overexcite him, otherwise he will be rough with you.”
“How could I overexcite him?” The mere sight of him made her woman parts moisten. Did the same happen with men?
“Do not caress his willy and touch not his balls.”
“Willy? Balls?” ’Twas a new language to be learned for this bedsport.
“Pecker, stones. Men have scores of names for their parts. Some e’en name them. Darren says his brother, Padraig, calls his prick ‘Olympus.’”
Étaín’s heart skipped a few beats when the sound of stomping feet reached her ears. “Did you hear that?”
“Aye. They approach. Quick, under the sheets. I will leave after the last man departs.” Margie drew the linen covers to right under Étaín’s chin and gave her a quick hug.
The doors slammed open, and the men of Caul Cairlinne, carrying a naked Brand above their heads, tramped into the room roaring the limerick Prick Her Well. The words ricocheted around the chamber:
Prick her well,
And her belly will swell,
Fill her with your seed,
And ease your need,
Make her see stars,
And sons be your rewards
The singing faded into the background when the men dumped Brand onto the other side of the bed.
I hope you enjoyed, and, if you did – Tweet it, FB it for me!
Cheers,
Jianne
Here’s another excerpt from Branded by Étaín , The Beasts of Bärvik, Book One:
“’Tis a prosperous settlement.” Nikolas pulled the hood of his thick cloak forward.
“Aye.”
“How fared your meeting with Princess Étaín?”
“As planned. We are invited to feast at the castle.” Odin’s luck had been with Brand the first day he set foot on Caul Cairlinne.
He had encountered his prey, Princess Étaín, and captured her attention with one heated glance. Every night since then, he had woven his way into her dreams and filled her mind with images of the two of them in bedsport. Timid visions, to be cert.
It had taken all his discipline to keep the images tame. To tamp down his burning desire to bedevil her with carnal pleasure until she did his bidding with not a moment’s hesitation.
Brand studied the crowded market and spied Étaín turning onto one of the paths leading away from the village. She headed in the direction of the blacksmith. A smile chased his lips. He had promised the blacksmith work aplenty, enough to fill his coffers for a lifetime and more, and gained a wealth of knowledge in return.
Princess Étaín.
The truthsayer of Caul Cairlinne, the daughter of King Mac Eiccnigh mac [111] Dalagh[J2] , his wife to be, and the woman who would make him a ruler of this settlement.
Her innocence struck at the ugliness carved into his soul, the beast that had arisen within him and the other members of his demesne when the fire mountain on their isle[J3] began spewing its innards and dense clouds of acrid smoke and black ash.
Their herds died overnight. Hundreds of cattle carcasses littered the settlement. The stench had been overwhelming. A sickness spread through the population and sent those who were struck into a berserker killing spree. Then the dream weaving began in the survivors and threatened their sanity. Brand had been the first one to speak of it, and he became the leader of the reduced numbers left in the colony.
“Think you she will breed the dream weaving out of you?”
Brand shrugged. “Only time will tell.”
The sun bathed the crush of market goers and glinted off the axes of the fisherman hacking at their catch. He followed Étaín’s lithe form as she meandered between the throngs.
She brimmed with life spirit, the joy bubbling into her lithe fidgeting; the happiness she exuded glowed like ’twas a tiny bright sun following her, which shone only on her petite figure. She bristled with energy and had danced in place earlier while searching the throngs for him.
He smirked. It was him she looked for, it was him she sought, and tonight he would make her his.
Hope you enjoyed!
Jianne
Branded by Étaín releases this Thursday!!!! Yay. I love my Vikings and this story begins a whole new series incorporating Celtic Irish mythology. It’s so much fun weaving ancient legends into tales. This week the dh and I are on a mini-holiday, so I’ve set up for a new excerpt each day until Branded by Étaín is finally unveiled. Here’s the first one:
Excerpt One – Branded by Étaín:
Étaín twisted this way and that, frantically searching the crowd milling about the market. She held her breath.
He had to be here.
The brisk icy wind buffeting her brat, the new emerald-hued cloak she had commissioned for this very day, did naught to chase away the blazing excitement heating her from within. The tips of her fingers tingled. She tiptoed and peeked ’tween two of the five guards surrounding her and Cedilla.
Where was he?
She knew he was here. Only his presence drove her to a giddiness she had not felt since Eachan stole her youth.
Scarlet and gold streaks blazed across the charcoal horizon of the settlement, Caul Cairlinne, famed for its rich soil, abundant forests, and rumored hoards of fairy gold. ’Twas the end of the festival of Lúnasa and the last moon market of summer.
Dozens streamed around the ring of guards protecting her, men on horseback, peddlers pushing carts, women heaving oversized baskets, and children skipping, shouting and dancing with unbridled energy. The hordes thrummed with exhilaration and anticipation.
Roosters crowed, piglets squealed, cows lowed, and ponies brayed.
The yeasty aroma of bread baking tangled with the briny scent of the sea and the mouth-watering smell of meat roasting all combined to tempt the palate, but Étaín craved not food. Though she had not broken her fast this morn, Étaín hungered only for a glimpse of him, the warrior she had dreamed of since their eyes first met at the Spring Market.
In the beginning, he haunted only her nights, but after their encounter two months ago, he had come to her in daylight too. Through his eyes, she learned of his dismal, barren land and the fire-spewing mountain he both abhorred and feared. She tasted both his grief and rigid determination.
Today, she would speak with him, the warrior fated to be hers, if only for a year and a day.
The man she intended to wed, whether Da approved or not.
Hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for more!
Cheers,
Jianne
Award winning author Jianne Carlo’s motto is simple: Alpha Me Please. Strong heroines, exotic locations, and cultural differences are her forte, and she goes weak in the knees for warriors of any type, rebels, SEALs, Vikings, and bad-ass mercenaries. Send her a man with an attitude and she’ll find the right woman to tame him. Read More…
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