Category: Extract

Extract, fiction, short story

Creative Writing: Work In Progress—Cup Cakes And Champagne…

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https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7b/Wedding_Cup_Cakes.jpg
misscreativecakes by Beria

Right now, I’m working on the final edit of the third book in my Princes Of Kharova series for the Wild Rose Press. Heart of A Hostage lands rebel leader Mihail, and his enemy Princess Maia, in a whole load of trouble. He’s the fighter and she’s the diplomat—but rules, like promises, are made to be broken. Aren’t they?

Heart of A Hostage follows on from Leo and Sara’s romance in His Majesty’s Secret Passion and Athan and Krisia’s fireworks in Her Royal Risk. Editing this latest draft is pretty intense work, and as the weather was so great this weekend, I took a break. Sitting in the garden I wrote the first draft of a new short story called Cup Cakes and Champagne, just for fun.

The style of this story is a bit different from my usual writing, and I’d love to know what you think of it. My heroine Emmy starts off a bit immature and self-centred, but she soon discovers that while love means taking the rough with the smooth, the smooth can be pretty spectacular!

Here’s the opening—

‘Oh, Emmy, you look like it’s your first day back after the holiday, not your last day at work for two whole weeks!’ Grace giggles as she meets me off the bus. We usually start laughing  the minute we set eyes on each other and don’t stop until we leave work (or Sniffy Sonia gives us one of her looks). Today is different, but I try and put a brave face on it. 
‘I know, a whole fourteen days alone with the man of my dreams. It’ll be heaven. But camping in Wales? Why couldn’t he take us off to sun ourselves on a beach somewhere? Mud’s really not my thing.’
‘Oh, stop your moaning!’ Grace gives me a little shove. ‘Camping’s not like it used to be. And at least you’re going to a place you already know.”
‘A place I haven’t been since I was twelve years old. What if it’s changed?’
‘Look on the bright side. You’re always saying how chilled out the place was. It might be even better these days!”
That’s Grace, the eternal optimist. 
‘And…don’t forget, you’re the one who let slip about your first crush, when we were playing truth or dare at the Christmas party. If the gorgeous Harri still lives at this Feinwen Farm camp site, you’ll be able to ogle him, while cuddling up with gorgeous Jack at the same time. That’s what I call multi-tasking. Right now—last one into the office buys the coffee!’ 
She puts on a sprint, but I know when I’m beaten and let her win. Paying out insurance claims isn’t a bad job, as office work goes. I like helping people find some sort of happy-ever-after, but it still means getting up while sparrows are yawning for forty-six weeks of every year. The decent coffee  they give us helps a bit. Friday cake-breaks are another reason to struggle in on time.  
‘Seeing Harri again wasn’t the only reason I agreed to this holiday,’ I say, putting Grace’s cup down in the most inconvenient spot on her desk, ‘Jack’s so lovely, but…’ my voice trails away, because there isn’t really any “but” I can put my finger on. It’s just…
‘I thought the divine Jack Wright really was your Mr Right?’
‘He is…’
Grace looks at me in the way she does when she’s about to save me from myself by taking the last cupcake. Doing me a favour, she calls it. And whatever second thoughts I’ve got about this holiday, I love Jack. He’s a real sweetie—when he’s around. I don’t want my best friend thinking I want her to take him off my hands.
‘…but he’s changed, Grace! When we first met it was champagne, flowers, and dinner with every date. But  lately, he’s been all work, and no play.’
‘And that makes Jack a dull boy,’ she nods, doing her best Judge Judy impersonation. ‘There’s no need to draw pictures.  That’s why you’ve got to throw yourself into the holiday lark. Use this break to liven him up.’ 

‘If we were going somewhere tropical, I could. But I know what Feinwen Farm is like. We’re going to be stuck out in a field, miles from the nearest takeaway, and in the coldest, wettest summer since records began!’

Emmy’s about to get not one, but TWO big shocks. Harri is twice the man she remembers, but Jack springs some surprises, too. For the first time in her life, Emmy is lost for words!

What do you think of Cup Cakes and Champagne so far? I’ll be posting more of the story in my next newsletter, which is due out in a couple of weeks.  You can sign up for it here.

Extract, Guest Post, Snow White and The Huntsman, Sydney St Claire, Wild Rose Press

Guest Blog—Sydney St Claire: Snow And Her Huntsman

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Sydney St Claire

Today, I’m welcoming Sydney St Claire to my blog. As well as telling us something about herself, Sydney is giving us a taste of her erotic romance, Snow And Her Huntsman. This is part of the Once Upon A Dom series. The theme is Fairy Tales Your Mother Never Read You, and it’s another new title from The Wild Rose Press.

About Sydney…

Sydney St. Claire is the pseudonym of Susan Edwards, author of 14 Historical Native American/Western/Paranormal romances and the author of the popular “White” Series. 
Sydney takes her readers into the world of erotica romance where her characters come together in explosive passion as they solve life’s problems and find true love along with the best sex our hero and heroine have ever experienced. 
Sydney’s office is quite crowded with three dogs at her feet and five cats to keep her company while she writes. Three cats always insist on beds on her desk, barely leaving enough room for her monitor and keyboard. Life gets fun when all five insist on supervising…
A Little About Snow And Her Huntsman…

Rylee Kincaid’s business is about to go under. Lucky for her, she’s found an investor. Ready to sign papers, she learns her knight in shining armor is Hunter Finnegan, the man who once gave her multiple orgasms then crushed her young, tender heart. Her world comes crashing down as it becomes clear the rich businessman intends a hostile takeover and to cast her out. Then he agrees to discuss a new deal, but only if Rylee will play Snow to his Huntsman at a BDSM fairy tale event.


Hunter has never forgotten the weekend of kinky sex he shared with Rylee in college. Unfortunately, he had to let her go to keep peace in his family. Now he’s back to claim the only woman he’s ever loved. He’ll stop at nothing to make the black-haired, fair-skinned beauty hear the truth of what happened so long ago, even if he has to tie her up. And that’s exactly what he does. But as the Huntsman reawakens the submissive in Snow, Hunter isn’t so sure he can do the same to Rylee’s heart.

Available from http://bit.ly/17aXsY9

And here’s a little taster…(PG13)

Rylee couldn’t believe what she’d done. She’d totally lost control, something she’d never done with another man but Hunter. Sex between her and her husband had never come close to the heat level between her and Hunter. Her hands dropped from his shoulders to his chest. Palms flat, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or bunch her fingers in his shirt and draw him even closer. God, what must he think of her? One kiss, and she’d gone up in flames, like a desperate and hungry woman. 
Which was true. But to show it and behave in such a manner horrified her. “I…” She didn’t know what to say. 
Hunter stepped away, she assumed to give her time to adjust her clothing. He picked up the invitation from the gray carpet. “My limo will pick you up at two on Thursday.” 
“Thursday?” Damn, her mind and body felt as though she were swimming through a thick gel. 
Handing her the invite, along with a large envelope he snagged off his desk, he held her gaze. “I’ll see you at Pleasure Manor. Your costumes will be delivered to your office this afternoon.” 
He tapped the envelope. “Instructions and rules. I suggest you go get your bloodwork done this afternoon. You’ll need to bring the results with you.” Hunter handed her the briefcase and her purse and hustled her to the door. 
Rylee blinked in confusion. Damn the man for being in complete control while she was a quivering mass of need. Her orgasm hadn’t eased her ache for this man. But she hated being manipulated, and he was a master. He’d lured her in with hopes and dreams of saving her business and probably used Glorie to make her mad enough that she’d confront him. Now, he’d had the nerve to use her own body against her. “Dammit, Hunter, I never said—” 
Hunter halted her with the single lift of his brow. “Your body spoke for you.” He lowered his head and kissed her hard, swallowing her protests. “Thursday. And don’t bother wearing panties.”
Wow—nobody ever read fairy tales like that to me! You can find out more about Sydney and her work here: 

Trailer:             http://youtu.be/ap0UHxLoFCA
Website:         http://sydneystclaire.com
                     http://susanedwards.com
Twitter:           https://twitter.com/Sydneystclaire
Blog:          http://sydneystclaire.wordpress.com

While the buy links for Snow And Her Huntsman are:

Wild Rose KINDLE           Nook         KOBO             IBOOKS

And Sydney is celebrating the release with a new contest. Prizes include a roomy  “Fairy Tales Your Mother Never Read You” tote bag, 4 GB Flash Drive, Key Ring Light, Notepad & Pen, Mug and assorted other goodies. Find out more here: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/09f02d866/

Christina Hollis, Ebook releases, Extract, Jewel Under Siege

An Extract From My Latest Release – Jewel Under Siege

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 Cover art by Samantha Groom 

Jewel Under Siege is set in Constantinople in the early spring of 1097. The city is besieged by Crusaders, so Elena thinks she’ll be safe from strangers inside the high walls of her own garden…

“The fruit trees trained against all the walls of Elena’s garden were wreathed in blossom.  The little blue irises growing behind the arbour were almost in flower, too. They would make a pretty arrangement for Easter Day.
Her mind full of flowers, Elena was an easy target. When a figure erupted from the bushes, she was dragged out of sight in less than a heartbeat. With a hard, cold hand clamped over her mouth, there was no chance to scream. 
Fear froze her from head to foot. The man gripping her was breathing quickly, and as his wrist pressed against her cheek she felt his pulse racing. Eyes tight shut, Elena waited for something awful to happen. She couldn’t imagine what could be worse than this, but his overpowering smell of leatherwork and metal dressing was unnerving. She stood stock-still in his grasp until he managed some breathless French.
‘Keep quiet. I won’t hurt you. Understand?’
Somehow, she managed to nod. His fingers relaxed from her mouth. When she didn’t struggle or scream, he dropped his hand. His sigh said he was as glad to let go of her as she was to be free. She moved to get a better view of him, knowing she might need to identify him in future. He was a tall, youngish man, but his gaunt good looks were suffering from famine and war. Leaning heavily against the garden wall, he pressed one hand to his knee. The expression in his dark eyes was hunted and Elena saw that grabbing her had sapped most of his strength.
That gave her the courage to face him. ‘What do you want?’ she said in French.
‘Help–and everyone round here speaks Greek. I don’t.’ 
That could mean only one thing. 
‘You’ve broken in from the Crusader camp!’ Elena said in horror. ‘You’ve come here to steal! And after we were told your people were coming to Constantinople to help us!’ 
‘It’s not like that. We’re desperate. We need food. Your people are slowly killing us. We’ve been held up outside the city for months. We’re dying out there.’
Elena drew herself up to her full height. No unshaven hulk was going to come into her garden and start twisting the facts to suit himself. ‘Only because your leaders won’t promise that you will behave properly. That’s all our Emperor wants.’
‘I’m starving and injured,’ the young man burst out suddenly. ‘I need help, not an argument about politics!’
Elena stared at him. He was in a bad way, but trying not to show it. His left leg couldn’t support any weight and he was tight-lipped with pain. Leaning against the garden wall he tried to look arrogant and supercilious, but she could see he was on the point of collapse.
‘I’ve had nothing to eat for three days. I managed to get inside the city wall, but climbing over your boundary to get at the fish in your pools was too much. It was mossy and wet. I slipped.’
Elena was horrified. ‘You’ve had no food for three days? Have you had anything to drink?’
     ‘Rain. That’s all.’ He swayed unsteadily, his gaze piercing her heart. ‘Get me some food? A crust? Anything. Then I’ll go. On my honour. I’m not here to make trouble.’
Elena considered. He looked dangerous, but if she could somehow sidle further out of his reach she knew he’d never catch her again. She wondered if she could trust him, and also whether he could trust her. His clothes were sodden. They clung to his frame in a way that unsettled her. The strange feeling inside her made Elena wonder whether it was only Christian charity that made her want to help him. Mud buttered his cracked and shabby boots, while his teeth chattered in a chill breeze running in off the sea.
‘Does anyone else know you’ve come here?’ she said.
He flicked his head sideways. ‘It’s bad enough that I risked getting caught. I wasn’t going to get my friends involved as well.’
He lost the look of a desperate terrorist, reduced to snatching at innocent women. Now he was dejected, alone and injured in a foreign city. He’d given Elena a bad fright, but seeing the state he was in softened her heart. In case he was playing on her sympathy, she hardened her expression and folded her hands primly in front of her.
‘I’ll go and see what can be done for you. Stay here and don’t move.’
The young Crusader put a hand to his forehead. He couldn’t offer any resistance. Instead, in a gesture of acceptance, he pulled a knife from his belt and handed it to her, handle first.
She accepted his offering warily, and held it at arm’s length. ‘Thank you – I think…'”

I hope you enjoyed this extract from Elena and Emil’s story. You can download Jewel Under Siege here, see a full list of my published books at http://www.christinahollis.com, catch up with me on Twitter and Facebook, and if you’d like to sign up for my newsletter, drop me a line at christinahollis(at)hotmail.co.uk, replacing the (at) with @.