Adult Paranormal Historical Romance
Love, lies, and an ancient Egyptian curse. Brianna Grey holds the key to mankind's destruction and someone is willing to kill for it. Having spent most of her life dying, one man's kiss has resurrected her desire to live. For US Treasury Agent, Duncan Stuart, love means death. He works alone, lives
alone and plans to die alone until he meets Brianna again. Under the harsh Egyptian sun, Duncan will break all his rules to save her but will it be enough to overcome the secrets that could get them both killed?
Tell us a bit about yourself
I'm a wife, mother of three humans, 4 felines and one scared dog. I live about five miles from the house I grew up in and picked up my husband in the package pick-up area of Sears when I was 19 and he was 28. Yeah, I didn't tell my folks his age until after we were engaged 3 months later. And I had to ask him out. It was the only time in my life that my heart overrode my brain and ordered my body around. We're still together 25 years later, so I think I've always been a romantic and I've reaped the rewards of it.
When did you begin writing?
I began writing in 1997 during a 65 mile commute (one way) to the place where I worked. I recorded the book during my drive and transcribed it on the weekends.
Have you ever been discouraged in regard to your writing ability and if so, how did you get past
it and move forward?
Writing is hard and I've never liked doing it. But I love a challenge so I keep at it. I suck at grammar and punctuation, but I am drawn to telling stories (ask my mom). Every time I start a new book, I wonder if I know how to write. If I can write. Certainly bad reviews let me know in no uncertain terms that I can't write. I tell myself to ignore them. And sometimes I actually do it ;-). The only way I know how to get past the feelings is to write. Every book is better than the last and I learn best when I'm doing.
What's your favorite thing about writing?
Getting the words right. When I reread a line and I think 'holy cow, I wrote that?'. Thankfully those days of awe outnumber the days when I say the same thing and then lean on the delete key.
What is something you've written that will never see the light of day?
My first book. Ugh. One day I might have to go and change that because heaven forbid it should surface after I'm rich and famous.
What is your writer food?
Just like in my reading habits, I don't like to discriminate against food. I love food. And it loves me, preferring to hang around on my hips and behind long after it should have left.
What inspires you to write?
Characters. I have notebooks full of ideas but no characters to populate them. I sit around with my net and catch them when they fall out of the sky. Only then can I write a story.
What inspired you to write Brianna?
My two favorite things: Egyptian mummies complete with curse and the Victorian era. Brianna needs to travel to Egypt to return Imhotep's necklace. For those who watched The Mummy, you may recognize the name. While Imhotep never appears in the story, his necklace is a map to his final resting place. As the only man who was ever turned into a God, many people believe his tomb contains secrets to immortality. Of course, Brianna isn't on this quest alone. She has a cat that is the incarnation of the Goddess Sekhemet and the reluctant hero, Duncan. Since the story featuring my Victorian heroine's journey to Egypt has been subjected to Murphy's Law, my publisher has graciously agreed to put the ebook featuring her parents' love story on sale.
And as a special bonus for the blog tour, I have a free paranormal short story available here:
And lastly, on August 31st, I'll be giving away one Ankh necklace. To enter, send an email with
the topic of today's blog to contests at lindaandrews dot net (placed in proper email format).
“Brianna, can ye hear me?” Panic fed the primal rage bucking through Duncan. He bound the fury. A
treasury agent had nerves of tempered steel, control of iron. A white lock rested on her pale cheek.
Peppermint-scented breath slipped past pink lips. She was fine. She had fainted, nothing more. Nothing
more.
Yet she had not wakened.
“I had thought she would be accustomed to violence, especially after the tales she told of Arizona.” Miss
Phillips’s whine sliced through his musings.
A man had been murdered, poisoned in front of a roomful of wealthy, influential witnesses. August
would have been the likely suspect—it was his valet, after all. Except, he couldn’t have known his
servant would be in the room, let alone would drink from the glass. So who was the intended victim?
He laid Brianna on the plush carpet and knelt beside her. He brushed her bangs out of her eye, sweeping
aside the feather headdress.
And who was the poisoner?
He might have spied something if he hadn’t dallied over his evening dress, and what had his delay
accomplished? Not a bluidy thing. His hair still stuck up a little in front. As for the noose around his neck,
he could feel the ends brushing his jaw.
“Damn it, Brianna, wake up!”
“Señor Stuart?” Esmé pried apart the Van Sargents. Worry pinched her features, increased the pitch of
her voice. Two men in ship’s uniform squeezed through behind her, parting the assembled crowd. An
elderly man in a somber suit appeared and set a black bag on the table.
Ignoring the newcomers, Duncan leaned close to Esmé’s ear. “Has Brianna eaten anything tonight?”
Shock flashed in her brown eyes. Her gaze flicked to the corpse before meeting his.
“No, señor. The dinner, it has not been served.”
He nodded. Relief flooded him.
“I believe she has fainted.”
“There are smelling salts in our room.”
“Get them.”
“Are you a doctor, sir?” Curry and garlic permeated the air as the elderly man who’d arrived with
the ship’s crew creaked to a stop beside Duncan. He leaned over Brianna with his ear near her
mouth. “Peppermint,” he whispered, straightened then peeled the glove off her left hand. His index
finger settled comfortably against the inside of her wrist. “An admirable heartbeat.”
“I’m nae a doctor.”
“Hmm, yet your prognosis is undoubtedly correct.” The man peered at Duncan over the gold rims of his
spectacles. “The ladies do like to lace tightly, don’t they?” His Adam’s apple bobbed in the wattles of his
throat. “Smelling salts should set Miss to rights. You’ve sent the companion to fetch them, hmm? ”
“That won’t be necessary.” Sir Reginald stepped forward. “Mrs. Van Sargent, the salts, if you please.”
Duncan grabbed the small glass bottle—he didn’t trust the missionary any more than he did the others.
Glass scraped glass as he plucked the stopper free. Ammonia invaded his nose, stripped the moisture
from the back of his throat. Definitely smelling salts. He shoved them under Brianna’s nose.
She winced, turned her head and coughed. Her eyes flickered open.
“Duncan. Wh-what happened?”
“You fainted.”
“You are very much mistaken.” She shoved herself into a sitting position, tucked a stray lock of hair
behind her ear and straightened her bodice. “A Grey does not faint.”
“It’s alright, dear.” Mrs. Van Sargent tucked the bottle back in her purse. “I daresay, if Mr. Stuart hadn’t
caught you you would have crashed right into the table.”
Movement caught his eye. At the doctor’s nod, the burly crewmen lifted the body. Duncan shifted his
weight to block Brianna’s view. Her lips parted; her eyes grew round. He had acted too late. She had
seen the corpse.
“That man.” She pointed to the blanket-draped body with her bare hand. “He...”
“He’s dead, dear.”
“Choked to death,” Van Sargent added with relish.
“Such a terrible tragedy,” said Miss Phillips, dabbing her dry eyes.
“Sir Reginald doesn’t think it will prolong our stay aboard the <i>Osiris.”
Duncan’s skin crawled as Mrs. Van Sargent beamed down at them like a goddess spreading her
benevolence.
“But he—“ Brianna’s nails dug into Duncan’s arm.
”Choked to death.” He kept his voice firm, his tone final. Brianna had been around death most of her
life, was intimately acquainted with most of its faces. He wouldn’t allow her knowledge to get her killed.
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