What Scares You; a Haunted Castle, dark spirits, or elemental creatures?

I just love a good ghost story, don't you? I love stories set in an old castle, with creepy goings on, with a brave hero, a little romance, and a lot of paranormal activity.

My newest release has all those elements. Here is a taste for those brave enough to encounter the paranormal, at least in their reading choices. Bright Scoundrel is a Historical Romance, a Gothic Romance, a romance with strong paranormal elements. And better yet, the romantic hero is a sorceror! Anyone for trip to old Ireland this weekend?

Excerpt from Bright Scoundrel by Lily Silver, Book Two in the Reluctant Heroes Series:  Kieran O’Flaherty has just arrived at his ancestral home in Ireland after living in exile for over twenty years. He is troubled by the unseen residents that have accumulated there during its long vacancy.

       Kieran walked slowly down the long hall toward his old room at the end, the room where the ghostly boys had emerged just moments ago. The echo of solitary footsteps followed, reminding him of his lonely state. The castle wasn’t barren. There were spirits here and elementals. Some good and many that were not. It was a lonely place, devoid of human inhabitants, and yet it was full to the brim with unwanted guests that needed to be sent packing.

       He spent over an hour perusing the opened rooms on the second floor, taking slow inventory of the place and getting a feeling for what needed to be accomplished to revive the old fortress. When at last Kieran reached the tower room, the master bedchamber, a sick feeling of revulsion came over him. He entered the room, and just as quickly backed out, holding his nose. The smell of sulfur was overpowering. He thought he might retch. As he backed away his eyes stung and watered.

      “Lord Grey?” A young maid called from down the hall, near the stairs. “Are you ill, sir?”

      “No.” Kieran answered with difficulty, as he tried to not breathe through his nose. “No, I’m just a little tired.”

     “Where would you like your trunks set up? In the turret room, sir?”

     “No.” He said quickly, a moment of panic seizing him, and he was not one to panic. “No, I want this room closed up. Tell Aine to lock it and to give me the key.”

      The maid, a young woman of not more than eighteen years, gave him a curious look. She started down the hall toward him at a quick pace, a frown marring her brow. “Why, who is that with you, Lord Grey? Did you bring a child with you from England, sir?”

      “No . . .” Kieran said sternly. He held up his hand, signaling for the woman to not advance further. “Go downstairs, now. Find Aine. Tell her to bring me the key to this room. Go--now!”  He pushed her back with all of his willpower. He held out his hand and pushed mentally against her determination to come near, lest she, too, be put in danger.

      The girl paused for a moment, as if sensing she’d reached an invisible barrier and could go no further. She tilted her head, still looking at him with concern. Her face suddenly changed from wonder to outright panic. She turned and ran down the long corridor to the stairs in the center of the castle. She hurried down them without giving him or the creature beside him a second glance.

      The panic was real. He felt it, too, when he first encountered the elemental. Panic was the human’s primal reaction to something so inherently evil.

      “What do you want here?” He demanded now well past any panic as anger consumed him. This was his home. The being had no right to be here, but someone summoned it, or invited it in. And once an ancient fetch was allowed inside a place, it was not easy to get them to leave.

     

Image credit: lario76 / 123RF Stock Photo

The thing had no eyes. There were dark holes where the eyes should be. The face of the creature was like rotting flesh, hence the awful stench. It was about three feet tall and covered with rangy, oily, putrid smelling hair. It merely stood there, looking up at him, silently brooding.

It may have been surprised that he could see it. Most people only noticed a dark shadow when they encountered a fetch, along with the horrid smell and the strong sense of panic the being evoked.

      “I said who brought you here? Answer me? What is your purpose? I’ll have none of your games. This is my house now, you must leave.”

       The creature attacked. Kieran was not surprised, yet he wasn’t prepared for it either. Before he knew what was happening, he was on the floor, on his back, as a searing pain slammed him in the chest. It had jumped up and pushed him backwards. He heard the shuffling noise it made as it hurried back into its cavern, the master chamber, and the door slammed hard.

      He lay gasping, holding his shoulder when the maid returned with Aine at her heels.

     “My lord . . . what happened, sir?”

     “I tripped.” Kieran groaned as he sat up holding his left shoulder. It ached and burned, just as if he’d been shot again in the same place as he had years ago. “I tripped and fell, that’s all.”

     “O’Neill, here, says you were acting peculiar, like ye was ill, sir. She said you asked for me.”

     “I’m fine.” Kieran rubbed his collarbone. He could swear there was a bullet lodged there. It felt just as real as when Captain Fletcher shot him. He looked at the young woman who Aine had called O’Neill.      “Surely, lass, you have a name besides O’Neill? A pretty girl should not go on being called by such a name?”

     “Mary Grace, sir.” The young woman blushed. She looked down at her apron, as if embarrassed to have caught the attention of the master. “O’Neill is my family name.”

     “A very pretty name, for a very pretty girl.” Kieran forced a smile as he focused his attention on charming her. “I’m more relaxed than my English peers, Mary Grace. I don’t hold with strict formality, nor do I refer to my household servants by their surnames. Call it a flaw of mine. I prefer your first name, if it does not offend you.”

     “Oh, no sir, not at all.” The pink cheeks bloomed into a deeper rose hue, yet still, the girl did not look at him.

     “Now then, Mary-Grace, I thank you for bringing Aine to me. Would you please leave us and attend to your duties. I must speak with our stalwart housekeeper alone.”

     The girl rose and hurried down the stone corridor again.

    “Ach, and weren’t you born with the gift of glamoury, my lord.” Aine said, giving him a canny look.

    “A little flirtation goes a long way to make a lass smile and forget ugliness.”

     Aine helped Kieran to his feet. He was still stinging from the crushing blow the thing had given him.

    “And what was so ugly here that you fear O’Neill must forget seeing, Lord Grey?”

    Kieran straightened. He was loath to confess the truth to her and yet, if she was half the woman he sensed she was when he hired her she would not run away shrieking. “Remember what I said when I hired you? I specified that someone with uncommon courage was needed at Roisin Dubh Castle to help me reclaim my ancestral home.”

     “Aye, sir. You implied t’was from ghosts and spirits when you said it. I remember it clearly. And I told you, I’m not one to be chased off by shadows and slamming doors. I hold to that, sir.”  Aine’s honest face and those somber, deep set brown eyes looked up at him without flinching.

Kieran wasn’t one to touch people if he could help it. Touching people made him see things he didn’t like. This time he couldn’t refrain from grasping Aine’s arm. “We have more than ghosts here, Aine. Mark me, there are ghosts infesting the castle, but there’s also something much more dangerous.”

 Excerpt of Bright Scoundrel, Copyright Lily Silver, 2013

To find out more about how Kieran will vanquish this evil being, download a copy of Bright Scoundrel to your e-reader. It is available on all platforms and is a 100k plus historical romance novel, that's 400 pages of romance, adventure, ghosts, spirits, mystery and magic.

Buy links:
iTunes
Amazon.com
Nook
Smashwords.com

Leave a comment here regarding what scares you the most in fiction stories. As a reward, you'll find that  Bright Scoundrel is discounted 50% off on Amazon for Tuesday May 7th only. If you need a copy from other distributors, please contact me for a coupon code.
Thanks for sharing.

What Flower speaks true romance?

Flowers are on my mind lately.

I'm gearing up for that big spring blooming time, anticipating the floral bouquets that will soon be filling my house.

So the question needs to be asked:

What kind of flowers would you want your Romance Hero to bring to you?

We all have favorite flowers. 

Roses are somehow connected with the whole romance thing.

I think roses are lovely, truly, I do.

And yet, I love, love, love a big bouquet of Irises!

And then there are those lovely tulips. 

                               So sensual, don't you think?  

And what about bleeding heart?  Hey, that spawns a whole new thought. Is your romance hero's heart bleeding for you?  Oh, la la!  
That idea could make your toes curl!

Got Gothic?

I always been a fan of the old horror movies, and of Gothic Romance.  I like that creepy, uncertain feeling, and not knowing if the hero is the good guy or the villain.  Dark Hero is my debut novel, published one year ago. In it we have all the elements of a good gothic story, a heroine with secrets who is placd in an uncertain environment away from all that is familiar to her, a tortured hero with ulterior motives and a penchant for the macabre, an old unkempt manor house on an isolated estate, and plenty of ghosts. I had fun writing this story, and it is my favorite among all my novels for many reasons.
 

Elizabeth and Donovan

 In this excerpt from Dark Hero, the heroine, Elizabeth, has just arrived at her new husband’s home for the first time:

Dark Hero, Copyright Lily Silver, 2013

      “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Her husband admonished, leaving Elizabeth standing in the foyer to gaze up at the winding marble stairs leading to the second story. The mahogany banister had been polished not too long ago, she noted, feeling hopeful that the interior was not as neglected as the exterior grounds.

       Double doors to the right of the stairs piqued her interest. She decided to look beyond them. She was relieved to find this door unlocked, only to have hope crushed as she gazed inside. The room was dark, the shutters were drawn to block out the sunlight. The furniture was covered with white sheets, resembling ghosts in the darkened room. She crept in a few feet and waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Slats in the shutters allowed jagged shafts of light to diffuse through the shadows. Something dark and furry scuttled across the floor in front of her. Elizabeth stifled a scream and stepped back, remembering Peter’s tale about hairy spiders the size of tea saucers.

        Who lives here? The house had an empty, desolate feel to it, as if no one occupied it for a very long time, at least, no one who cared.

        “Lizzie.” Elizabeth turned at the sound of her husband’s voice, his normal voice, not an affected one. He stood in the foyer, seeming perturbed that she wasn’t standing precisely where he’d left her. “Come.” He held out his hand. “I’ve ordered a bath for you. Tabby will see to your comfort while I’m out.”

       “Where are you going?” She grimaced as she left the dark room for the sunlit foyer. “We’ve only just arrived.”

       “I want to take a ride about the place while I’m still dressed as the count. Enjoy your bath and a nice nap. You look all in, darlin’.” His lips brushed hers, teasing lightly, reminding her of the tender, caring man on the voyage. He smiled down at her, and then straightened as a lone figure stepped from the shadows of the hall. “This is Tabitha Wilkes, my grandfather’s--” He paused momentarily. “Housekeeper. I kept her on after he died, and the cook.”

       Mrs. Wilkes was clad in an informal muslin gown rather than the starched black uniform that housekeepers wore in the wealthy homes in England. She was barefoot. Her white hair was unbound, cascading down her back in gentle waves. She was thin, graceful, her complexion golden from time spent in the sun instead of indoors, cleaning her master’s home.

       She did not resemble any servant Elizabeth encountered in England. Nevertheless, she smiled at the older woman. This was Donovan’s home. She was going to have to accept his odd ways and get along with the people in his employ. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wilkes.” Elizabeth responded, knowing her mother would scold her for being familiar with a servant. Alas, putting on airs would not win her acceptance from Donovan’s household staff.

        “It’s Tabby, Ma’am. I’m not married.” The woman archly corrected Elizabeth, looking her up and down as if she were a dead rodent the cat carried in from the woodpile.

       “Don’t be impertinent, Tabby.” Donovan interjected before Elizabeth could form a response. “My wife is the grand-daughter of the ninth Earl of Greystowe. She’ll put you through your paces, old girl. You might wish to put some thought into retiring. I’m certain my lady will be more particular than I am regarding the household routines.”

        The woman bristled at his words, looking for a brief second as if she might curse out loud at them. She managed a limp smile from taut lips. “Welcome to Ravencrest, your ladyship.” The housekeeper made a polite curtsy to Elizabeth.

       “Take care of my lass and mind your tongue, Tabby. I’ll tolerate none of your cheek with her.” Donovan directed as he made his exit, effectively abandoning Elizabeth.

Elizabeth followed the woman up the stairs and down the hall to the master’s chamber. She sensed resentment within Tabby. She dismissed the impression, reasoning that she’d be cranky, too, if she was in this woman’s place and the master dropped a new mistress on the doorstep without warning and then left again. It was an awkward situation all around.

        Donovan’s bedchamber was furnished in a deep forest green that complimented the oak paneling. Very masculine, indeed, befitting a bachelor lord.

       “Rest Madame, your bath water will take a while to warm.” Tabby said, and left her.

Elizabeth stepped over to the louvered doors and peered through the slats. They gave access to a veranda winding about the second story. And they were locked. She was suddenly seized by a rush of sheer panic.

        “Watch out!” A thin, frightened voice from beyond the grave warned in the empty room. “He’ll lock you away for his pleasure. He’ll never let you feel the sunlight on your face or the wind in your hair again.”

       “Who are you?” Elizabeth glanced about. No one appeared or answered her query.

This was too much; an isolated estate, a house with chained gates and locked doors, a cranky, resentful housekeeper and now a spirit whispering cryptic warnings to her in the middle of the afternoon. Elizabeth whirled about to the double doors adjacent to the veranda doors.

       

Those, too, were locked.
Dark Hero, Copyright Lily Silver 2012

Dark Hero features a man hiding from the horrors of his past, a tortured hero who literally dresses up in costumes, affects false accents and uses false identities to keep himself safe from the world around him. He was tortured in France, held in the Bastille prior to the French Revolution. When the peasants rose up, they set him free. Donovan became a pirate for some years, and then stumbled upon a beautiful lass in England who needed his help. He rescues her, but he still lives in the shadows, like a phantom, unable to get close to others and trust them. Elizabeth must deal with his habit of switching personalities and identities, and try to soothe the beast within him and bring him back to humanity.

Dark Hero is available for sale on all digital platforms. It is the first in my Reluctant Heroes Series. In Dark Hero, and the sequel, Bright Scoundrel, there is plenty of paranormal activitiy, even though these are historical romance. I don't know about you, but I like to mix things up and try something new, without the old romance formulas.  Thanks for visiting and do have a wonderfully creepy day!

Lily Silver, aka Darklily.

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Lost in Time? Is it an accident or Fate?

I have always loved Time Travel Stories. Not necessarily romance, but also those that are just plain fun or even Sci-Fi or historical.  I guess the reason is that I have always loved history, even as a kid, and the idea of slipping into another time seemed intriguing, if only to have a peek at the past before returning to my own time with all it's luxuries.

As I grew up, I became a historian. I possess a bachelor's degree in history and also a bachelor's degree in Humanistic Studies with an emphasis in Ancient and Medieval Research. So,it seemed only natural that I would one one day write a time travel story, mixing romance and history together. Strangely, I have four full length romance novels out, three of them historical romance and one of them a contemporary, and out of the four, my best selling novel is the time travel romance. So, here is an excerpt from my time travel romance, Some Enchanted Waltz by Lily Silver, copyright 2012:

A little background for you:  Tara is a graduate student writing her master thesis on an obscure rebellion in Irish history, one that failed. She is sent back in time to that very period, and awakens after the powerful electrical jolt that sent her there unable to reconcile her surroundings with her very damaged memory.  She's scared, but trying to cope, as any of us would be. She wakes up lost and alone in a quaint castle in strange country (she's a Wisconsin girl!)  unaware that it is not only a foreign country but another time period, and tries not to panic. It gets worse as she finds she has no I.D. and no money, and no idea of who to call after this weird, cosmic hangover! She thinks she is in a posh hotel and might be kicked out soon as she has no money to pay the bill. 

Some Enchanted Waltz by Lily Silver, copyright 2012,

Chapter Five

      Tara looked about the strange room with awe.

       It was like a set from a Jane Austen Movie.

       The walls were oak paneling, the kind you’d see in an old English manor house.

Tapestries hung on the wall, and not the cheap catalogue copies you could get for under a hundred bucks. The ones before her had a rich heaviness that bespoke the dust and the weight of several centuries. She admired the scene depicting a rich medieval landscape. A couple sat on a blanket in a forest enjoying a romantic lunch. The woman had long waves of blonde hair trailing over her shoulders and faded pale silvery eyes Tara guessed were once blue. The woman’s expression was wistful as she gazed at her companion, a young man dressed in the rich attire of a thirteenth century noble. A distant castle could be seen in an opening in the trees beyond them and a unicorn was nestled in the brush in the foreground.

        As she studied the tapestry, Tara was enveloped in an oasis of much needed calm.

She’d awakened into a void. She couldn’t remember anything about her life. She didn’t know where she lived, or with whom. She did not live here, that much she did know for certain. She tried all morning to think of someone she could call to come and take her home. Nothing came. No names, no faces.  

        Calling someone. Now, there was a good reason to crumble into hysterics!

        She could not think of anyone to contact, no family, lover or friends.

        Tara rose from the bed with difficulty. Her body was stiff, sore. 

        Had she been in an car accident? She tried not to trip over the overlong white cotton gown as she shambled across the room like a zombie to the antique wardrobe. She opened the door and then the drawer inside it.  Her cell phone was there along with her car keys and her iPod.  A green hair bungee with Celtic designs lay nestled beside the items.

        No wallet. Ah, but that would make things too simple, wouldn’t it? 

        No wallet meant no driver’s license, no clue as to her home address. No credit cards  and no money. Her khaki cargo pants and lace camisole top were folded neatly in the drawer, having been washed by the staff of this odd hotel.

       She picked up her cell phone with her bandaged hands and pressed the ON button. Nothing. No bars, no signal, not even a welcome screen. Her battery must be dead.  If she couldn’t even get it to turn on it meant she’d been here more than a few hours. Damn, if she had a cheaper phone instead of this model with the expensive data package that sucked the batteries like a vampire emptying a crack addict, she’d still have battery power. Without a charger, she was screwed and it wasn’t likely they’d have one here that would work with her phone. 

       Given her weakness and confusion, Tara had to have been here for a few days instead of hours.  Her iPod still worked, for all the good that did. She could listen to Meatloaf, Madonna and Motley Crue while trying to find her way home. If her phone worked, she’d have GPS capabilities so she could figure out where she was, and at the very least she could send a text message.

       And who would she send it to? Would she recognize the names listed in her contact list?  That was the scary part. Tara was lost, like in one of those stupid reality TV shows where the contestants got dropped off in a strange land and had to find their way back home first to win a million bucks. Unlike the people on the show, she was stranded, with no instructions, contacts, money and no freaking idea of who to call to pick her up and take her to the airport. At least on the reality shows they were given detailed instructions.

       She searched the drawers of the ornate desk. There was no phone in her room and no phone book. None of the hotel literature one would expect to find in a place like this. She couldn’t even call a taxi. Even if she had a phone her speech was too garbled to be understood. The hotel maid didn’t understand her so she wouldn’t get far trying to call anyone.

Image credit: yoshiyayo / 123RF Stock Photo

      
Texting! Now that was a different matter. Or Email. Yes, that would work, if she could get to a computer. Tara wiggled the tips of her fingers, peeping out from the heavy linen bandages swaddled over her hands. Her fingers were still pretty numb and stiff, but she could probably pull off the hunt and peck method. They had to at least have a computer in the lobby. All hotels had them in lobbies now.

       The Eagles song echoed in her mind, the one about the creepy hotel you could never leave.

This wasn’t Hotel California, but Hotel Ireland. She learned that when she tried to question the maid who delivered her breakfast tray. She could only manage the word ‘where’ amid her garbled speech. The maid informed her she was a guest at Glengarra Castle overlooking the Bay of Bantry in County Cork, Ireland. At least they spoke English here--sort of. It was hard to understand Maggie’s accent and her queer way of phrasing things.

        Terror didn’t begin to explain the gnawing in her gut as her eyes darted about the stately room filled with antique furnishings. Geez, there wasn’t even a freaking television. Usually they were hidden in the wardrobe closet in the fancier hotels. Her wardrobe closet was empty save her few belongings.

         Fear was making her queasy. Tara didn’t want to vomit again, because she’d have to use that quaint porcelain pot under the bed to throw up in because no one seemed to understand her request to be taken to the restroom. There wasn’t a bathroom attached to her room, which, while odd was logical in an ancient building such as this. The hotel owners wouldn’t want to risk losing their Historic Registry standing by knocking down walls and drilling holes through stone floors to install modern plumbing in every guest room. Still, a phone would be nice so she could ring room service.

         Definitely not a five star experience here, despite the rich furnishings.

         Fatigued from her trek across the room in search of a phone, Tara returned to the bed. She clutched the velvet coverlet in her bandaged hands, ignoring the tears stinging her eyes. So, she was stuck in a hotel somewhere in Ireland with no memory of how she came to be here. And no credit card.  Damn. They’d be kicking her out of here real soon. 

         As Tara sat clutching the covers and worrying about the hotel concierge demanding payment for this lavish Irish holiday, there was a sharp rat-a-tat-tat at the door.

         Oh, God, here it comes, she though, steeling herself for the confrontation.
Excerpt from Some Enchanted Waltz, A Time Travel Romance, by Lily Silver, copyright 2012.

If you would like find out what happens to Tara, and who comes through that door,  you can purchase a digital copy of Some Enchanted Waltz through the following ebook outlets.
iTunes
Kobo 
Amazon.com 
Barnes and Noble Nook 
Smashwords.com 




 

Lucky in Love? Take home two Irish Heroes, free on Me!!

Congrats to the following winners: Susan, Viktoria, Felicia, Rachel and Isabelle!  Thanks everyone for visiting! Hope your St. Patrick's Day Weekend was Fun! 

Lucky in Love? Well, are you? It's a time of luck and wealth...or not. With each romance we find ourselves in a new world of love and memories. Are these just by chance? Is it luck? Welcome to your second annual Lucky in Love Blog Hop where we want to hear about your love, your romance, and how much you love St. Patrick's Day!!! Are you wearing green? Ready to get pinched...or wait...do you like that?

Almost 300 bloggers have giveaways and posts about those men we love! 

But that's not all....

We have TWO grand prizes. You as a reader can go to EACH blog and comment with your email address and be entered to win. Yep, you can enter over 200 times!

Now what are those prizes?

1st Grand Prize: A $100 Amazon or B&N Gift Card

2nd Grand Prize: A Swag Pack that contains paperbacks, ebooks, 50+ bookmarks, cover flats, magnets, pens, coffee cozies, and more!

 Remember to leave an email address below with your comment

 so we can contact you if you are a winner! 

***On this blog, I'm offering a free digital copy of both of my Irish romances--to not one winner but three lucky readers! 

 

Ireland, it's a land of myth, mystery and magic! 

And let's not forget those hot Irish rakes out there.  

I'm partial to a sexy alpha male with a little Irish in him, but that's just me! Two if my three historical romances that take place in Ireland feature Irish heroes with plenty to offer a girl.  In Some Enchanted Waltz, my Time Travel Romance, Adrian Dillon is an Irish Viscount with a dual identity. I just love a man in a mask. Well, Lord Dillon is also an Irish patriot, a leader of a local group connected to the United Irishmen. He's working hard behind the scenes to free Ireland as a covert militia leader by night, and a bored Irish Lord by day. 

When Adrian Dillon finds himself blackmailed into marriage by his enemy, he realizes he needs a bride to prevent himself from being aligned forever with a hated British loyalist. Enter Tara O'Neill, a woman from the twenty first century who has fallen through time, and has no memory of who she is or how she got to 18th century Ireland. Lord Dillon rescues her from British Soldiers, and then tells her that she is his betrothed, having arrived all the way from America by ship.  

Tara is a 21st century historian, but her memory is a little wonky right now. She's not sure where she belongs. With no place to go, she takes Lord Dillon up on his offer and marries him. She discovers that the man she married is involved in a secret rebellion--he's sneaking out of the house at night in dark clothing and a mask, sort of like an 18th century Irish Zorro. As Tara's memory returns she realizes that her lover's mission will end in disaster, as the rebels will not succeed in their quest to seize the government. Will she be able to stop Adrian from dying for a cause destined to fail?  

Some Enchanted Waltz is a Time Travel Romance that depicts the events of the Rebellion of 1798 in Ireland. It includes paranormal elements as Tara also discovers her true Irish heritage includes being of fae descent. 

                                                                     

                                                                        *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  

Bright Scoundrel, My newest Irish Historical Romance takes place a few years later, in 1802, as an Irish wanderer returns to his ancestral home after having been kidnapped as a child and sold as an indentured servant, shipped to the West Indies.  

If you read Dark Hero, Book One of Reluctant Heroes, you met Kieran as a support character, and you already know he's a talented druid magician. He was Elizabeth O'Flaherty's brother. 

Bright Scoundrel starts out after Kieran O'Flaherty has been restored to his English family, yet, he longs to escape the strictures of English society after a few scandalous episodes, so he flees to his ancestral home: Roisin Dubh Castle in County Galway, Ireland. Kieran will find his home has more problems than merely a few spirits haunting it. He'll encounter the Banshee of the O'Flaherty Clan, a clever Fae hiding among his staff, and an elemental creature summoned from another realm by his enemy, a vile creature that has taken up residence in the castle and craves innocent blood. 

Kieran O'Flaherty, a rake with magical abilities

 Kieran is a womanizing rake. He's also an adept in the magical arts as an accomplished druid sorceror. He returns to his childhood home and finds that the idyllic life he imagined is not possible. He struggles to gain the acceptance of his clan, and he just can't fight his attraction to a determined spinster who is an artist with some very unique ideas about women's rights. Rose de Lacy seems to be the only woman immune to his sexual charms.  (read full excerpts of this story in two previous posts this month!)

If you like magic and mystery in your romance, you'll find Bright Scoundrel to be an interesting story.  It's full of Celtic magic, myth, enchanted creatures and some good old fashioned Irish romance.   

 I'm offering a free digital copy of each book to three lucky people who leave a comment here. That's a free digital copy in any format you wish of both titles, Some Enchanted Waltz and Bright Scoundrel for each of the three winners. 

Also, for those who prefer a print copy there is a free giveaway in progress on Goodreads until April 2oth for Bright Scoundrel. Feel free to enter that giveaway as well.   

So here is the chance to take home not one but TWO Irish Heroes to romance your heart. You'll get an Alpha male Irish Patriot in Lord Adrian Dillon (aka Captain Midnight), and a beguiling Beta Male Irish Rake/sorcerer who uses magic to save the girl and conquer his demons in Kieran O'Flaherty, aka Baron Grey. 

And don't forget to visit the other romance bloggers on our list: there will prizes galore for those brave enough to hunt for the treasures. You might not be Lucky in Love, but you can be a Lucky Winner of this blog and so many others.    

   
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