The Fall of Rain
(Book Three of the Emerald Isle Trilogy)
by Renee Vincent
I'm sorry to be late posting this, many apologies to Renee and CBLA. I'm really keen to share information about Renee and this book, partly because I find Norse history and legends absolutely fascinating, and also because, as well as writing, Renee and I share a love of horses and riding.
Blurb:
For as long
as she can remember, Lorraine O’Connor has had dreams of a Norse warrior
kissing her. And even though she’s never fully understood the reason for her
vivid subconscious imagination, she welcomes the meaningless and wanton
pleasure of being in a Viking’s protective embrace—until the day she meets that
brazen Northman on an impulsive vacation trip to Ireland.
Though
blindsided by the relevance of her dreams and the strange familiarity of the
man within them, Lorraine
can’t help but feel a deep-seated intimacy toward Leif. And the more she gets
to know him, the more she’s convinced they’ve shared a life together in a time
long forgotten.
Are the clues
to their ancestral past hidden within the contents of the chest or buried deep
within their hearts?
Excerpt:
Leif laughed inwardly as he heard the
lock engage. Lorraine
was definitely an odd sort of female, with all her outlandish outbursts and
peculiar reactions, but no less interesting. She had this way about her that
made him pay close attention, made him want to pay close attention, else he
might miss something. No woman had ever been able to do that to him.
He was not a man easily beguiled.
‘Exceedingly picky’ were Kristoff’s words on many occasions when they could’ve
had a few choice opportunities with several of the women who entered Tí Joe Mac’s Pub in Kilronan. But he
always found a way to stay clear of them. Either their hair was too short,
their fingers too long, or they were excessively giggly over anyone who spoke
Gaelic to them. No matter how beautiful they were to the eye, Leif always
managed to find some flaw, an imperfection he couldn’t get passed.
The only imperfection Lorraine possessed, if he could call it
that, was being unreadable. Even then, he couldn’t rightfully hold it against
her. He was glad that she left him guessing, left him wondering what she’d say
or do next. Every time he spoke to her, he had no idea what would come out of
her mouth.
And
what a pretty mouth it was.
Her lips were a delicate shade of rose
and looked just as supple as the petals from which its color derived. He
imagined they felt as soft and delicate in a kiss, and longed to taste them, to
press his lips against her and savor every blessed moment of it while watching
her eyes close in automatic response.
Oh,
those eyes…
Their exquisite brilliance utterly
entranced him. He couldn’t look away no matter how hard he tried. They shone as
bright and vivid as the intrinsic color of an emerald, with flecks of lighter
green pigments fissuring throughout.
Though he’d stared at them as if they
were rare jewels tucked within the hilt of a Viking warrior’s ceremonially-bent
sword, uncovered from a sacred burial site, he couldn’t help but feel he was
gazing into something he’d known and seen before. Words could not describe what
he felt, except that his longing was innate—as if her eyes and all its wonders had
been engraved on him from years past.
Again, he laughed inwardly, reminding
himself that his entire week had fallen into the epitome of the absurd. Between
finding the carved chest of treasured antiquities buried beneath his porch to
having a gorgeous woman bathe in his home, he could hardly believe his bizarre
stroke of luck.
He quickly left the hallway and entered
the kitchen, flipping the nearly burned fish in the pan. The unrelenting vision
of her slick wet body clung to him like a wet blanket, drenched with his own
lustful musings of what she’d feel like if he dared to touch her. At least, he
was glad to know he was still a red-blooded man. As many times as Kristoff had
ridiculed him for his lack of interest, tonight he didn’t have to ponder his gender.
It was as plain as the nose on his face, and stuck out a bit further than he
cared to admit.
Reaching down, he shifted himself, trying
to award his erection some more room in his jeans, while cursing it all the
same. “Now is not the time.”
“Not the time for what? Dinner?”
Leif turned at the sound of Lorraine’s
voice, not expecting anyone to be behind him, and almost knocked the pan off
the stove. He caught it by the handle, fortunately, steadying it before it slid
off the edge.
“I take it you’re not used to a woman in
your home,” she stated discernibly.
Heaving a sigh, he smiled. “How was your
shower?”
“Exhilarating.”
I’m
sure it was. “Good.” He rallied his
best casual voice and turned back to the fish, still simmering on the stove. As
he resumed cooking, he secretly regarded the way the small swell of her breasts
put curves in his oversized T-shirt that her raincoat had once hidden. Though
her dainty figure had been virtually swallowed up by his cotton drawstring
sweats, he knew somewhere beneath all that fabric was an enticing set of
feminine curves.
“Since my clothes were still damp, I hung
them over the shower rod to dry,” she confessed. “I hope that’s all right.”
His grip tightened on the handle. The
image of a lace-lined bra and delicate panties, hanging in his bathroom flashed
in his mind and he could do little about the smile teasing the corners of his
lips. Without facing her, he shrugged his shoulders, pretending he hardly cared
and changed the subject. “I hope you’re hungry,” he replied, fisting a
quartered lemon above the pan-seared cod and dousing it with lemon juice. “I’ve
made enough for the whole village it seems.”
He thought he heard a slight chuckle,
regretting that he’d probably missed the first opportunity to see her smile.
But he kept to his mission of transferring the food to the two plates sitting
on the adjacent counter. That little feat required more of his attention given
he wasn’t much of a practiced chef.
“It smells delicious.”
Adding the final touches to the plate with
a few island flowers he’d picked days ago—only because he heard from the more
experienced chefs in Dublin’s pricey restaurants that presentation was
everything—and a slice of soda bread on top, he turned around and caught her
looking at him. Her eyes, however, did not meet his until they jumped up from a
lower direction.
She cleared her voice and looked away,
feigning that she had ever been looking at his arse. Leif was not a stupid man,
nor did things often get passed him, but for her sake, he acted as if he were
none the wiser.
“Please. Have a seat.”
She did as he suggested, wringing her
hands in the extra T-shirt cloth at her waist.
She’s
still nervous.
For that reason, he sat in the seat
directly across from her instead of next to her where they could share the same
corner of the table. Disappointed as he was, he refused to show it, keeping a
keen eye on her facial expressions and body posture. At the present, she sat
stiff-backed in the chair, her eyes fixed on the bounty of food he placed in front
of her.
A quick grin teased her lips when she saw
the white and yellow daisy garnishing the corner of her plate. She never said a
word in regards to his makeshift embellishment, but the smile that hung about
thereafter was enough for him.
She didn’t waste any time taking her
first bite, closing her eyes as she pulled the fork from her mouth. Her
shoulders melted and a slight hum reverberated from her lips.
“Does that mean it’s good?”
“Are you kidding?” she asked, her eyes
nervously diverting from his the moment they met. “This is the best pan-seared
fish I’ve ever had.”
He shook his head, forking his first
bite. “Now I’m convinced you have a concussion.”
“I’m serious. I’ve never had fish like this
before. Most times it’s fried to a crisp or bland as hell.”
“Well, I don’t know much about Kentucky, but I believe
they’re known for their horses, not herbs.” He took another generous bite and
waited. “That wasn’t funny?”
She mildly smiled and stuffed a piece of
bread in her mouth. “You make a better cook than a comedian.”
“Ah, look at that. Give the small town Kentucky girl a hot
shower and some food and she’s as good as new.”
Another smile. That one he was sure to
catch.
“I don’t know about all that,” she
replied uncertainly.
“Well, you’re gaining a bit of
confidence. It’s good to know you’re less fearful of me.”
Her hand froze, her fork stuck in another cut
of fish. “I don’t fear you, Leif. I just don’t know you.”
He set his utensil down and crossed his
arms, eager to finally delve into a meaningful discussion. “What is it you’d
like to know?”
I
shied from his intrusive eyes, feeling the heat of his stare setting me ablaze.
He
leaned in. “I know you are avoiding me because you feel ‘tis right. ‘Tis moral.
‘Tis safer. But you needn’t fear me.”
I
took a deep breath. “I fear you not, Dægan. I simply know not enough about
you.”
His
face recoiled slightly as if my choice of words had stunned him. He released me
and crossed his arms in front of him. “What would you like to know?”
“Rain?”
Leif’s voice caught her off guard and she
looked around, confused, the name Dægan echoing in her ears. She blinked,
staring at the man across from her, his face illustrating as much bewilderment
as her own.
“You all right?” he asked, reaching for
her hand.
Instantly, she pulled away, trying to
gather her wits. It seemed she’d hear Leif’s words in the same minute she’d
hear the exact same thing from a man by the name of Dægan.
What the hell was wrong with her? Why did
she keep seeing things that weren’t really there or hear conversations from an
unknown past, which were so akin to what she was talking about now?
“You blacked out for a moment,” he explained.
“I did?” The question came out of her
mouth even though she knew she had gone somewhere else, somewhere that seemed
like memories. It was as if she were having personal recollections of long ago,
which involved her and a Norse warrior in some uncanny fashion.
“Yeah, you did. I asked you what you wanted to
know about me, and suddenly, your eyes glazed over. You stared straight
forward, but focused on nothing. Are you sure you’re all right? Perhaps we need
to wake up the good doc.”
She fidgeted in her chair. The thought of
a doctor looking her over and determining she was categorically crazy was not
in her vacation plans. She tried to go back to her normal routine of eating,
forking another bite of fish to prove to him, if not herself, he was
overreacting. “Really, I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry. I just need to finish
eating and get some rest. I’ve had a long day.”
Again, he didn’t look convinced. But what
else could she say? She was as lost as he was when it came to her “blacking
out” and no amount of pondering it could procure a logical explanation.
For the rest of the meal, they both lost
their tongues for small talk and the only sound heard was the casual clinking
of silverware on their plates. It was just as well, since neither seemed to
know what to say anyway. Despite the great food and warm hospitality Leif had
provided her, Lorraine
wanted nothing more than to be alone. To lie down with her thoughts and
hopefully be exhausted enough to sleep.
She prayed for sleep. Sleep
without dreams. Somehow, as she glanced over at Leif looking at her in the most
concerned way, she didn’t think she’d get her wish.
Buy Links:
Amazon print: http://www.amazon.com/Fall-Rain-Emerald-Isle-Trilogy/dp/1937389553/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1322576302&sr=1-1
Turquoise Morning
Press: https://www.createspace.com/3729821
All Romance eBooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thefallofrain-651760-140.html
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/110678
Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/the-fall-of-rain
About The Author:
I am an
author with a passionate interest in Irish and Norse history. I live in the
rolling hills of Kentucky
with my husband and two children on a beautiful secluded farm of horses and hay
fields.
When I am not writing, I love to
spend my time on the back of a horse, whether with my family or with my
friends. There is nothing like feeling the sunlight on your face, the wind in
your hair, and the power of the animal beneath you as you enjoy the beautiful
scenery. Seeing the world from a saddle is, by far, the best view and the best
therapy for a heavy heart or a troubled mind. My therapist's name, or my
horse's, rather, is "Statues Suddenly Lucky", a full-blooded
Tennessee Walker, and of course, he goes by the name of Lucky for short.
I am a sucker for a good cup of coffee (lots of cream and
sugar...and whipped cream if I can get my hands on it), great conversation, and
a lilting Irish accent. I love to read and I can't resist watching great epic
historical movies.
Links:
Website: http://www.reneevincent.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ReneeVincent
Deep In The Heart Romance: http://www.deepintheheartromance.com/
Publisher:
Turquoise Morning Press
http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/
Organizations:
Romance Writers of America http://www.rwanational.org/
Kentucky Romance Writers http://www.kentuckyromancewriters.com/
Ohio Valley Romance Writers http://www.ovrwa.com/
Celtic Hearts Romance Writers: http://www.celtichearts.org/
Hearts Through History: http://www.heartsthroughhistory.com/
Reviews:
Ræliksen
*Winner of two categories by Love Romances Café
“Best Book Cover
2010”
“Best Historical
2010”
“This book and author
earn my highest recommendations and I feel privileged to have read one of the
best. It is a must read for any lover of historical romance or even lovers of
romance in general.”
~ 5 Stars TOP PICK ~ Night Owl Reviews
~ 5 Stars TOP PICK ~ Night Owl Reviews
“…this story is
realistic, historically accurate and unforgettable; a story you will remember
long after the last page is read.”
~ 5 Blue Ribbons! ~ Romance Junkies
“Every word of this
story has meaning. Every moment leads to the next. Every word is simultaneously
natural and brilliant, each one holding an unmistakable place in history with
the telling of this tale.”
~ Author Sarah Ballance
Mac Liam
*Winner of the “5
Heart Sweetheart” Award
from The Romance
Studio
“It comes alive and
winds its way into your heart. This is a must-read for anyone who enjoys
historical romance and I cannot wait to read the final book of the trilogy as
this story has stayed with me days after I read the last word.”
~ 5 Hearts ~ The Romance Studio
“I will admit to
being skeptical that this story would capture me as much as the first had, but
I was blown away by the awesomeness that is Mac Liam. Ms. Vincent surpassed all
of my expectations with her impressive writing abilities, while offering more
incites and revelations that will keep readers coming back for more.”
~ 5 Stars TOP PICK ~ Night Owl Reviews
“The steadfast, true
love Ms. Vincent creates in Mac Liam takes one’s breath away.
A memorable,
satisfying story!”
~ 4.5 Books ~ Long And Short Reviews
~ 4.5 Books ~ Long And Short Reviews
Silent Partner
"Ms. Vincent’s
writing has the unique ability of capturing both the reader’s heart and mind… I
thoroughly enjoyed everything about this story and would love to see it become
a movie. Another highly recommended read by Renee Vincent!"
~ "5 Star TOP PICK" ~ Night Owl Reviews
Her writing sparkles,
and given this is the author’s first attempt at contemporary mainstream romance,
she creates the right impact for settings, pace and conflict. Her balance of
the self-absorbed hero meeting emotionally challenged heroine is stunning
because of her research into the heroine’s background. This book is a
keeper."
~ "LASR BEST BOOK" ~ Long And Short Reviews
~ "LASR BEST BOOK" ~ Long And Short Reviews
'STARQUEST' 'CHILDREN OF THE MIST' (The sequel to Starquest) Dancing With Fate 'Freeread':'A BARGAIN WITH DEATH
'STARQUEST' 'CHILDREN OF THE MIST' (The sequel to Starquest) Dancing With Fate 'Freeread':'A BARGAIN WITH DEATH'
Also available on Kindle
