Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming
release.
Imagine encountering the Knights of the Round Table
on the streets of your present-day city. Then imagine the mysterious, magical
enemies of the past have returned to destroy the modern world. That’s the
premise of the Camelot Reborn series that began with Enchanted Warrior and continue in Enchanted Guardian. Of course, these are romances and that means
our medieval men run headlong into very modern women. These stories are great
fun to write!
If you are a parent do you find it hard to juggle
writing and parenting? Any tips for time management or sneaking in writing
time?
I’m not a parent and can’t speak to the challenges
that presents, but I do have a job and a packed schedule and have had to deal
with time and energy management issues. I take on way more than I should and
then pay the price. One thing I’ve learned is to break down big goals into tiny,
tiny bites and to be happy with only one bite if that’s what I can do that day.
As long as it’s something—an email, a paragraph, working out a plot point—it
will move me forward in small, consistent steps. I’ve come to appreciate how
those gains will get me to the goal line on time and without a big deadline
drama. It’s a very different way of working, because I used to hurl myself at
problems as if I could defeat them with sheer willpower. Now I’m more
strategic.
What would your readers be surprised to learn about
you?
A lot of people are surprised that I work in finance
and spend all day playing with spreadsheets.
That actually works well for me because writing is a change of pace and
also because authors need to understand the business side of bookselling.
Is there a genre(s) that you’d like to write that
you haven’t tackled yet?
I love historical fiction. History creeps into my work
now, but it would be great to write a full-on historical romance. I love the
beautiful settings and fine manners and all the political intrigue beneath that
fine polish. There are infinite story possibilities.
Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is
your favorite and why?
If this book is part of a series…what is the next
book? Any details you can share?
There are two more books in the series scheduled for
next year. I’ve just started on book three, Royal
Enchantment.
What book are you reading now?
I’ve just started Cast in Silence by Michelle Sagara.
What is in your to read pile?
Like most book lovers, my TBR pile is huge and spans
all kinds of subject matter. Near the top is a volume of Arthurian stories, a
survey of secret societies (must not be very secret if they’re in a book!), a
massive archeological tome about the ancient Scythian tribes (research), and
Naomi Novik’s Uprooted.
Enchanted Guardian
Camelot Reborn Series
Book Two
Sharon Ashwood
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Harlequin Nocturne
Date of Publication: August 1 2016
ISBN: 978-0373009763
ASIN: B01CNMT0DK
Number of pages: 300
Word Count: 85000
Book Description:
Enchanted Guardian- A love of legendary proportion
In another time, in a place once known as Camelot, they had been lovers. Torn apart by betrayal and lies, Lancelot Du Lac and Nimueh, the Lady of the Lake, had each suffered greatly.
But the magic of the fae had reawakened a man once trapped in stone, and Lancelot was determined to find his long lost love. Only, Nim was desperate to hide her fae soul, as she was marked for death by their mutual enemy.
Though centuries apart had not diminished their passion, they would once again face a dangerous test to prove each was the other’s destiny.
Book Trailer https://youtu.be/btP6qzxOmpk
Excerpt:
Lancelot caught
her arm, pulling her up short. Nim scowled down at the long, strong fingers.
Fine scars ran along his tanned knuckles, evidence of a life around blades.
Heaviness filled her, a primitive reaction to the strong, aggressive male
taking control of her in the most basic way. Once it might have grown into
anger or lust, but now it confused her.
“Take your hand
off me,” she said, letting her voice fill with frost.
“No.” He pulled
her closer, turning her to face him. “You will answer my questions.”
Nim jerked her
arm free. They were so close, she could feel his warm breath against her skin.
“About what?”
His nostrils
flared as if scenting her. Still, Nim studied his tense jaw and the blood
flushing his high cheekbones. The heat of his emotions made her feel utterly
hollow. His hand closed around her wrist again, almost crushing her bones.
“There are too
many people here,” he growled.
“There are
enough people here for safety. Perhaps I don’t want to answer you.”
His eyes held
hers a moment, dark fire against the ice of her spirit. That seemed to decide
him, for he pulled her close and took a better grip on her arm. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
He didn’t reply,
but steered her toward the door, moving so fast she skittered on her heels. She
took the opportunity to pull against him, but this time he held her fast.
“Don’t.”
The threat was
real. Her fighting skills were nothing compared to a knight’s. Lancelot could
crush or even kill her with a single blow. Still, that didn’t make her
helpless, and she would not let him forget that fact. Rising up on her toes,
she put her mouth a mere whisper from his ear. “You forget what I can do. My
magic is nothing less than what it was when I was the first among the fae
noblewomen. I can defend myself against your brute strength.”
Just not against
what he’d done to her heart. She closed her eyes a moment, feeling his breath
against her cheek and remembering the past for a long moment before she denied
herself that luxury. “Let me go,” she repeated.
In response, he
pulled her to the side of the building, refusing to stop until he was deep into
the shadows. The ground was little more than cracked concrete there, tufts of
grass straggling between the stones. He pushed her against the siding, her back
pressed to the rough wood. “Not until I’ve had my say.”
He had both of
her arms now, prisoning Nim with the hard, muscled wall of his chest. Anyone
walking by might glimpse two lovers in a private tête-à-tête, but Nim drew back
as far as she could, something close to anger rising to strike. No one handled
her this way, especially not him.
“Then talk,” she
said through gritted teeth.
“Aren’t you even
surprised to see me?” he demanded.
“Why should I
be?” She needed to squash any personal connection between them. Even if she was
whole and their people were not at war, he had betrayed her.
He put a hand
against her cheek, his fingers rough. She jerked her chin away, burning where
his touch had grazed her.
But he was
relentless. “I’m told you were caught by Merlin’s spell along with the rest. I
know what the fae have become.”
Soulless. As
good as dead inside. Lancelot didn’t say the words, but she heard them all the
same. “It’s true,” she replied. “It’s all true.”
His expression
was stricken as if hearing it from her lips was poison. Good, she thought.
Better to be honest. Better that he believe her to be the monster she was.
“Maybe that’s
true for some. I don’t believe that about you. You still have too much fire.”
With that, he
claimed her mouth in an angry kiss. Nim caught her breath, stifling a cry of
true surprise. The Lancelot she’d known had been gentle and eager to please.
Nothing like this. And yet the clean taste of him was everything she
remembered.
His mouth
slanted, breaking past the barrier of her lips to plunder her mouth. The hunger
in him was bruising, going far beyond the physical to pull at something deep in
her belly. Desire, perhaps, or heartbreak. She wasn’t sure any longer, but she
couldn’t stop herself from nipping at his lip, yearning to feel what she had
lost. A sigh caught in her throat before she swallowed it down. Surely she was
operating on reflex, the memory of kisses. Not desire she might feel now. The
warmth and weight of him spoke to something older than true emotion. Even a
reptile could feel comfort in the sun. Even she…
Still, that
little encouragement was all the permission he needed to slide his hand up her
hip to her waist and she could feel the pressure of his fingers. Lancelot was
as strong as any fae male, strong enough certainly to overpower her. That had
thrilled her once, a guilty admission she’d never dared to make. She’d been so
wise, so scholarly, so magical, but an earthy male had found the liquid center
of heat buried under all that logic and light. They had always sparked like
that, flint against steel.
But then his
hand found her breast and every muscle in her stiffened. This was too much.
Memory was one thing, but she wasn’t the same now and she refused to have a
physical encounter that was nothing more than a ghost of what it should be.
Nim pushed him
away. “I don’t want this.”
Something in her
look finally made him stop, but his eyes glittered with arousal. “Are you
certain about that?”
About the Author:
Sharon Ashwood is a novelist, desk jockey and enthusiast for the weird and spooky. She has an English literature degree but works as a finance geek. Interests include growing her to-be-read pile and playing with the toy graveyard on her desk. As a vegetarian, she freely admits the whole vampire/werewolf lifestyle would never work out, so she writes her adventures instead.
Sharon is the winner of the RITA® Award for Paranormal Romance. She lives in the Pacific Northwest and is owned by the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness.
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1 comment:
Thanks so much for having me on your blog!
Sharon Ashwood
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