Featured Today- THE TEMPERATE WARRIOR

By Renee Vincent

Book One of the WARRIOR SAGAS

He was her champion. She was his weakness.

Together, they loved with wild abandon.

Gustaf Ræliksen lives by the blade of his sword. After avenging his father’s murder and reuniting with his family, he wants nothing more than to settle down and have sons of his own. Only one woman will do—a fiery redhead he saved from the spoils of war.

No longer forced to warm the beds of the men who've taken everything from her, Æsa has nothing to offer the noble warrior but her heart.

When someone with a deep score to settle seeks revenge upon her, Gustaf's world is torn asunder. He has but one vow—saving the woman he loves from the ignorant fool who dared to best the temperate warrior.

EXCERPT

“Dying a thousand deaths in my head to protect you is better than losing you one time in the flesh. I would never recover if I let anything happened to you.”

His voice was devoid of emotion, monotone as he laid open his heart for her. Most would think he was just being aloof, uncaring as he rattled off sentimental words in an impersonal way. But Æsa knew better. He was not only bearing his soul to her, but doing so the only way he knew how; by occupying his mind and body with a simple task so his heart couldn’t entertain the idea of failure.

Moved by his words, she stood and made haste to join him on the hide. Dropping to her knees, she laid her hands atop his wrists, impeding his progress with the knife. His eyes met hers and they stared at one another.

Long, heartfelt seconds ticked by as she absorbed the magnitude of his pain. She plucked the tools from his hands and set them at his feet. “I am so sorry for bringing this burden upon you.” Gustaf opened his mouth for rebuttal, but she pressed her finger to his lips, feeding his words back to him. “Yesterday, you were without burden, at peace knowing you had fulfilled your duty as a loyal son. Ready to start your life anew…remember?”

He closed his eyes as if forcing himself to hear her and wait his turn.

“And now, I have thwarted your future happiness with a dark past that follows me everywhere I go. You can deny all you want what I used to be and pretend that I am a woman of worth if it makes it easier for you to accept my shame. But I know what I used to be and I will not let you add me to the list of things you will punish yourself for should you fail. I am not worth it. I am not worth any man’s grief. Or death,” she added.

Slowly, Gustaf opened his eyes and stared at her. His lips drew a straight line across his face. He removed her finger from his mouth and held her wrist in a tight grasp. “May I speak?”

Æsa nodded, steeling herself for the tongue-lashing she knew would follow. He took his time replying, which was worse than having him berate her on the spot. The look in his eyes foretold of his disappointment, and his quiet reserve prefaced the exceptional temperance this man was capable of.

“I shall do my best to make myself clear,” he began, his eyes never leaving hers. “We all have a past and oftentimes we have an unfortunate moment in our existence we would rather erase from our memories. But it matters not what we have failed to do, but what we succeed in doing from those failed moments onward. In my past, I have failed to protect my family, as I am the only one left, save for my nephews on Inis Mór. While their deaths, brought about by various regrettable circumstances, were not a direct cause of my own negligence, the burden is still the same. Like you, I face that demon every day of my life.

“That being said, our demons do not become us. They are not the bones and flesh of our bodies, nor the substance of our hearts. They are recollections of what used to be and what is no longer. Your demon—or your previous life as a whore, as you like to beat upon my brow—is not who you are inside. Your worth is diminished only by the demon you place across your shoulders like a royal cloak. Divest yourself of that, my dearest Æsa, and you will understand the depths of my love and the extent to which I will go to protect you. Gladly protect you,” he reiterated. “Until then, you will just have to take my word for it.”

PURCHASE THE TEMPERATE WARRIOR

Turquoise Morning Press

December 2012

ISBN: 9781622370924

Genre: Historical, paranormal romance, Viking

Buy Links: 
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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. 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.

From an early age, I've always had scenes playing out in my head. Whether it was a story with a moral or a tale with a twist, those ideas have never let me sleep until I wrote them out. And considering I have an eclectic ensemble of stories swarming in my brain at any given time, I write under a couple pen names to accommodate the various genre categories.

Renee Vincent
(Historical & Contemporary Adult Romance)
From the daunting, charismatic Vikings, to the charming, brazen Alpha male heroes of modern day, you'll be whisked away to a world filled with fast-paced adventure, unforgettable romance, and undying love.
Visit my website at http://www.reneevincent.com/

Gracie Lee Rose                               
(Lighthearted, Fancy-free Women's Fiction)
For those who love to read fun, wholesome, and endearing romantic stories that your mother, sister, friends, and daughters can enjoy.

Visit my website at http://www.gracieleerose.com/

Author Links:

Website: http://www.reneevincent.com/

Blog: http://pasttheprint.blogspot.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/reneevincentauthor

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ReneeVincent

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3005290.Renee_Vincent

Romance Blog: http://www.deepintheheartromance.com/

*If you haven't read Renee Vincent you need too!!! Check out her website and look for her other books as well!!!*

ENJOY

Coming December 2012 from Renee Vincent- THE TEMPERATE WARRIOR

Gustaf Ræliksen, the eldest warrior son of Rælik, lives by the blade of his sword. After avenging his father’s murder and reuniting with his family, he wants nothing more than to settle down and have sons of his own. There’s only one woman who can tame the fearless Northman—a fiery redhead from the spoils of his vengeful days.

Æsa, a lowly servant forced into a life of warming men’s beds, has nothing to offer the noble warrior but her heart. Through the tenderness of Gustaf’s touch, she learns that even the brusque and burly Northman is capable of temperance—that is…until someone, with a deep score to settle, seeks revenge upon him.

Gravely wounded, restrained, and left for dead, Gustaf is helpless as his dearest Æsa is ripped from his hands. As his world is torn asunder, he has but one vow—saving the woman he loves, and killing every last man who dared to best ................

The Temperate Warrior

*GIVEAWAY*

Renee will be giving away an autographed copy of THE FALL OF RAIN to one lucky commenter. You must leave your E-mail address to be eligible! Good Luck!

Contest open to residents of the United States Only ...

CONTEST HAS ENDED- Congratulations Tore!

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I hope you enjoyed the first look at THE TEMPERATE WARRIOR coming December 2012!

Excerpt from THE FALL OF RAIN ...

Lorraine took a deep breath as the silence between her and Leif lengthened. “I didn’t mean to berate your brother,” she said, inching closer to the stall gate that separated them. “Sometimes my loose tongue gets the best of me.”  

Leif’s mind meandered over her choice of words. The subject of her tongue, and all the things it could do, clouded his brain. “No need to apologize. I enjoyed every blessed minute of it. Not many women can put Kristoff in his place.” He finished securing the throat latch on Freyja’s bridle and led her out of the stall. “Are you still ready to go on that ride with me?”  

“Of course. Is this my horse for the day?”  

“Indeed. Her name’s Freyja.”  

“Isn’t that the name of a Norse goddess? Goddess of passionate love and fertility?”  

“Impressive.”  

“Freshman English lit teacher. He was a big fan of mythology.” Lorraine looked the horse over. “She’s beautiful.”  

Leif watched as she reached out and pet the horse’s muzzle, her dainty fingers running smoothly over its forehead. For once, he was envious of his mare, wishing he could feel the soft stroke of her hand on his starved body. He didn’t care where. At this point, he’d take an innocent caress across his own forehead if it suited her.  

He cleared his throat, trying to steer his thoughts to the plans ahead of them. “You hungry? I figured after we pay the good doc a visit, I’ll take you to Joe Watty’s and you can taste those famous fish ‘n chips I told you about—if you’re not opposed to eating lunch for breakfast.”  

“I can eat anything, no matter what time of day it is,” she confessed. “But really, I’m fine. We don’t have to bother the doctor.”  

“It’s not a bother. I promised you, and that’s what we’re doing.”  

“Seriously, there’s no need. I’m much better now.”  

Leif cocked his brow, his inner voice arguing against her. “And what if you get hurt on this horse today because your wits are still jumbled? I’d never forgive myself.”  

“My wits are fine,” she stated soundly. “Test me if you don’t believe me.”  

Leif’s mouth twitched in a grin, partial to the way she dared him. “All right,” he muttered, taking one step closer, his body inches from hers. “What day is it?” he asked, slowly leaning forward and tucking his nose just beneath her jaw. He took in a long breath, smelling the warm scent of her skin and letting his lips barely brush over her neck. To his surprise, she rattled off her answer with no hesitation.  

“It’s Wednesday, June fifteenth, two thousand eleven, which means I have less than two days to figure out what I’m giving you for your birthday, if, in fact, the seventeenth is really the date of your birth.”

Leif pulled away and gazed into her eyes, taking in the clarity of their color. She stood before him confident, unwavering in her response. “Well done,” he said almost disappointed, though he hardly thought he could be as poised if she’d done the same to him. “But I’m still keeping my eye on you. One slip up and I’m dragging you to Dr. O’Donnell’s residence. By your hair, if I have to. Understand?”  

“If you must.”  

Leif liked her a lot. Everything about her made him crazy; her beautiful green eyes, her light airy scent, her feisty façade, her daring replies…every little thing enticed him to be brazen and bold. To forget his good manners and throw that cursed gentlemanly demeanor out the door.  

Knowing better than to give into temptation, he fetched Thor from the other stall, the smell of her skin lingering all around him. Hell, if she smelled that divine, he knew she’d have to taste twice as good.  

“You know,” Lorraine hummed dulcetly as she mounted, “for someone who’s supposed to have their wits about them, you sure act as if yours have slipped further than mine.” 

Leif eyed her curiously. “What do you mean?”  

She adjusted herself in the saddle and slipped her right foot in the stirrup without taking her eyes off him. “You never answered me.”  

He mounted his horse in one swift motion, pondering her statement. “I don’t recall you ever asking me a question.”  

“Technically, no, I never asked you a question. But I did make a statement that warranted a response. So, is your birthday really on the seventeenth, or is that just the day of the celebration?”  

A slight chuckle escaped him as he trotted along side her. He tightened up on his reins, holding his anxious horse at bay. “My birthday is not the seventeenth. And no gifts are necessary.”  

As Lorraine urged her horse forward and she cast a look over her shoulder. “Do I get to know the date of your birth?”  

“That knowledge is usually saved for my closest friends. So, we’ll see how the day goes.”  

With a grin that would light up the darkest night, she turned completely around in her saddle, her hand resting on Freyja’s rump. “Am I on a trial run or something?”  

Leif returned the smile as he looked up to the sky, the weather appearing to cooperate with the plans he’d made. “Let’s just say you’re lucky I’m willing to overlook yesterday and start today on a clean slate.” 

“Need I even ask how I’m doing thus far?”  

Leif trotted forward, riding abreast of her. “So far, so good.”  

She shrugged her shoulders as if mildly impressed. “I suppose that makes you just as fortunate that I feel the same.” 

He reached over and grabbed her left hand, raising it out of respect. He locked eyes with her and bowed slightly. “I am fortunate.” 

Visit Renee on the WEB

Purchase THE FALL OF RAIN

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*GIVEAWAY*

Renee will be giving away an autographed copy of THE FALL OF RAIN to one lucky commenter. You must leave your E-mail address to be eligible! Good Luck!

Contest open to residents of the United States Only ...

Stop by tomorrow for an introduction to Renee's soon to be released novel, THE TEMPERATE WARRIOR!

REVIEWS for THE FALL OF RAIN ...

"If I was told I only had one word to describe The Fall of Rain (the entire Emerald Island Trilogy, for that matter), it would have to be "FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC!" This story deserves so much more than just a 5 star rating, in my opinion. Renee Vincent weaves a tale of everlasting love that transcends the boundaries of time, adding just the right twists and turns to keep you guessing. The Fall of Rain is the perfect ending, wrapping the entire trilogy up into one perfect package. I'm honestly sad that it's over. I'm eagerly awaiting to see what literary gem Vincent has in store for us next.

~ 5 Stars ~ Coffee Beans & Love Scenes ~ Read more >>>

"I know for myself I enjoyed the first two books very much. So much so, that I was excited for the third book to come out. Little did I know what book three really had in store for me. OMG doesn’t even cover it. This is my absolute most favorite book of this series. Where the first two take place deep in the past, book three finds us in the present time. How does that work, you may be asking . . . well, I would have never thought it possible until I read it for myself. Taking present time activities and adding in flashbacks from centuries past, this book offers the reader everything; drama, romance, comedy and even mystery. People and things aren’t always what they seem. In fact, you may walk away from this book never looking at that moment of déjà vu the same again. Maybe, just maybe when something feels right . . .we should remember, just who are we to question it? If you enjoy historical romances and love a story with men you would love to sink your teeth into, this is your series to get lost in. Not an ounce of disappointment to found in the pages of these books."

~ Rose That Rules All - MAGNIFICENT! ~ Romancing The Book ~
Read more >>>

"If you fell in love with Dægan in the book Ræliksen then you wont be disappointed when you read The Fall of Rain. You will fall in love with Leif too. I was crying happy tears when I finished reading this book. Author Renee Vincent made this Dægan Lover very happy. I'm very happy how she ended this wonderful trilogy."

~ 5 Stars ~ Viking Princess 

Purchase THE FALL OF RAIN

Amazon | Kindle | Nook | Sony | KOBO

All Romance EBooks | Smashwords | Diesel | Turquoise Morning Press | Book Strand

*GIVEAWAY*

Renee will be giving away an autographed copy of THE FALL OF RAIN to one lucky commenter. You must leave your E-mail address to be eligible! Good Luck!

Contest open to residents of the United States Only ...

Stop by tomorrow to read an Excerpt from THE FALL OF RAIN ...

Meet Renee Vincent ...

Renee Vincent's lifelong fascination with the legends and lore of ancient Ireland, and the powerful, compelling Scandinavian explorers and conquerors known as the Vikings, led her to create the thrilling historical romance series, "The Emerald Isle Trilogy".
Book one in the series, Ræliksen, introduces us to Mara, daughter of an Irish clansmen who is loved by both Dægan Ræliksen, a Norse warrior, and by Breandán Mac Liam, an Irish hunter. Ræliksen, a triumphantly successful debut for Renee Vincent, has earned numerous accolades: Winner of two categories by LoveRomanceCafe--"Best Book Cover 2010" and "Best Historical 2010"; a 5 Star TOP PICK from Night Owl Reviews; and #1 Choice for Marissa's Top 5 Books of 2010 at Sizzling Hot Reviews.


The second book in the series, Mac Liam, begins seven years after Ræliksen ends, and it allows us entry into the heart and mind of the soulful Irishman. Highly anticipated and critically well-received, Mac Liam has earned a 5 Star TOP PICK rating from Night Owl Reviews, the “5 Heart Sweetheart Award” from The Romance Studio, and the coveted reader-voted "Book of the Week" award from Long and Short Reviews.


The eagerly awaited conclusion to the "Emerald Isle Trilogy" can be found in The Fall of Rain, which released in December 2011. Like the other works, the final book has also earned several 5 Star reviews from Romancing The Book and Coffee Beans and Love Scenes. Renee recently created a stir among her devoted readers by announcing the upcoming release of The Temperate Warrior in December 2012.

* * * *

“This book and author earn my highest recommendations and I feel privileged to have read one of the best.”
~ 5 Star TOP PICK! Night Owl Reviews
“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
“If I was told I only had one word to describe The Fall of Rain (the entire Emerald Island Trilogy, for that matter), it would have to be "FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC!" This story deserves so much more than just a 5 star rating, in my opinion.”

~ 5 Stars! Coffee Beans and Love Scenes

* * * *

Renee Vincent lives in the beautiful green hills of Kentucky with her husband and children. Horseback riding is a favorite family activity, and it allows Renee to dream of riding across lands of ancient times, and stirring romantic tales brought to life by her creative imagination.


Though reading and writing historical romances is Renee’s first love, she has also branched out into the contemporary genre with her release of Silent Partner, which features a sexy and wealthy nightclub owner in search of the perfect dance partner. When Grayson Anders finds talented artist Chloe LaRoche, he feels he has met the woman of his dreams. However, Chloe has a secret which could keep them apart forever unless she and Grayson forge their love of music, dance, and art into a love to last a lifetime. Silent Partner, just released in April, 2011, has already earned two awards: 5 Star TOP PICK from Night Owl Reviews and LASR BEST BOOK from Long and Short Reviews.


Renee is currently signed with Turquoise Morning Press and is a member of

• Romance Writers of America
• Celtic Hearts Romance Writers
• Hearts Through History
• Kentucky Romance Writers
• and Ohio Valley Romance Writers.

She was featured in WOW! Women On Writing eMagazine article in September 2011. She is the PR Chairman for Celtic Hearts Romance Writers and can also be found at her website, her blog, at Facebook, and Twitter.

*GIVEAWAY*

Renee will be giving away an autographed copy of THE FALL OF RAIN to one lucky commenter. You must leave your E-mail address to be eligible! Good Luck!

Contest open to residents of the United States Only ...

Website ~ Blog ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Deep In The Heart Romance

Stop by tomorrow to find out what the CRITICS are saying about Renee and THE FALL OF RAIN...

Our SPOTLIGHT is on THE FALL OF RAIN by Renee Vincent

Leif Dæganssen, an archeologist from Norway, is determined to trace back his Scandinavian roots as far as the Dark Ages and find proof of their existence on the Emerald Isle. After several years of living off the west coast of Ireland, he finally uncovers an ancient artifact—an intricately decorated chest with pagan carvings—buried beneath the very porch of his coastal cottage. Knowing it only confirms the presence of a glorified Norse-influenced settlement on Inis Mór, he’s determined to establish a link between himself and those who once inhabited the rugged isle.

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?

Purchase THE FALL OF RAIN

Amazon | Kindle | Nook | Sony | KOBO

All Romance EBooks | Smashwords | Diesel | Turquoise Morning Press | Book Strand

 

Visit Renee on the web- www.reneevincent.com

 

*GIVEAWAY*

 

Renee will be giving away an autographed copy of THE FALL OF RAIN to one lucky commenter. You must leave your E-mail address to be eligible! Good Luck!

 

Contest open to residents of the United States Only ...

Renee will be with us all week so don't miss the opportunity to find out more about THE FALL OF RAIN ...

First GLIMPSE at THE FALL OF RAIN ........ Book Three of the Emerald Isle Trilogy by Renee Vincent!!!

Leif Dæganssen, an archeologist from Norway, is determined to trace back his Scandinavian roots as far as the Dark Ages and find proof of their existence on the Emerald Isle. After several yeas of living off the west coast of Ireland, he finally uncovers an ancient artifact—an intricately decorated chest with pagan carvings—buried beneath the very porch of his coastal cottage. Knowing it only confirms the presence of a glorified Norse-influenced settlement on Inis Mór, he’s determined to establish a link between himself and those who once inhabited the rugged isle.

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 from THE FALL OF RAIN ....

There he stood; a monument of beauty and power, sturdy as the ground beneath him. He had long blond hair, a well groomed beard, and skin darkened from the sun. His eyes revealed a sense of maturity and intrigue, but even the darkness could not hide their color for they were as blue as the ocean she had crossed to get to Ireland. His hands showed scars and calluses from years of hard work, yet his broad chest, tapering to a narrow waist, held most of her attention.


“Lochlannach,” she breathed.


“Huh?” he muttered, crowding his brows. “You’re Irish?”


Lorraine swallowed, wondering where that word had come from. Hell, she didn’t even know what it meant. “No, I-I’m American.”

“I can hear that now in your accent, but you just spoke Gaelic and called me a Viking. Lochlannach means ‘lake dweller’, and it was what the Irish called the Norse foreigners a long time ago.”


Lorraine stared at him, still unsure of herself or what had come out of her mouth.


“It’s okay,” he said kindly. “It’s not an insult as far as I’m concerned. I’ve been called worse in my time. Just didn’t expect it.” A smile started to tug at his mouth. “I suppose the blond hair gave me away?”


Not exactly, she thought. But it had something to do with it. It was not everyday a woman would meet and talk to the actual man from her dreams. And quite frankly, it was exceptionally difficult to wrap her head around it.

As she continued to gawk at him, there was no doubt he was, indeed, that very man. The only difference was that he wasn’t sporting a tablet-woven wool tunic, cow-hide boots on his calves, or a thick bear cloak around his shoulders. There was no sword at his hip or silver clips in his hair. He looked like a regular modern-day male—who just happened to step out of a Men’s Health magazine photo shoot, demonstrating the look of a perfectly balanced torso of muscled shoulders and biceps.


Lorraine sat up a bit straighter, uncomfortably hot next to the fire. But as she moved about on the floor, she felt a strange dampness in her clothes.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he began explaining. “I tried to get you under shelter as quickly as I could, but by the time I mounted my horse with you in my arms, the rain poured from the sky. I would’ve taken you to your hotel had I known where you were staying, but I didn’t even know your name. Is there someone you want to contact? Someone you’re vacationing with to let them know you’re all right? It’s very late, almost midnight. I’m sure they’re worried sick.”

His considerate words stole hers right out of her mouth. If she had any residual fear of him, it had readily diminished. To know he had picked her up in his arms and whisked her away on his horse, just so she wouldn’t get wet, was astounding in itself. If he wasn’t her knight in shining armor, she didn’t know who was.

“Um…I’m staying at the Man of Aran B&B. But I’m not with anyone,” Lorraine clarified as she tried to stand up.

A little wobbly on her feet, he came rushing to her aid, bracing her elbows in the palms of his sturdy hands. Again, his brows furrowed. “You came to Ireland by yourself?”


She blinked rapidly, her reaction to his presence delayed, and suddenly she made an effort to step away from him.


“Here now,” he coaxed, putting his arm behind her back for support. “You need to sit.”


Lorraine looked up at him, his chiseled face only inches from hers, his large, brawny body hovering far too close, too quickly. She shoved him, only to clumsily teeter backward.


Before she could let out a gasp, he caught her and pulled her upright into his arms, her face smacking the warm blunt plane of his chest. “Are you trying to hurt yourself?” he asked, looking down the bridge of his nose. “’Cause at the rate you’re going, you’ll be spending your Ireland holiday in the hospital.”


Lorraine flinched at the approach of his hand, but he stopped short. “Your head…you passed out. Remember?”


She touched where he was pointing and winced. “Oh…I fell out of my bed.”


“I think you’re mistaken,” he corrected. “You were standing on the cliff near Dún Aonghasa when you went down and I’m pretty sure I didn’t see a bed.”


“No, I mean I this bump is from a few days ago when I fell out of my bed at home.”


His face drew back in surprise. “A grown woman falls out of her bed? That must have been some dream you were having.”


Lorraine froze, his tone sounding as if he knew something about her dreams. As if he were hinting he’d had the same. She studied him, peering into his beautiful blue eyes for a clue. But after a few moments of silence, he cocked his head, trying to read her just the same.


“Do you always make a habit of falling out of your bed?” he joked.


Though his jest made her smile with embarrassment, it confirmed she had hit her head harder than she thought. Before her, stood a man who resembled the brazen warrior in her dreams, and she had to start realizing that it was purely a coincidence. Nothing more.


Backing slowly out of his embrace, she began making excuses. “I’m merely jet-legged, I think. This vacation was a spur of the moment kind of thing. And…”


“Don’t worry yourself,” he said, giving her some space. “I’m just glad you’re all right. Now, take off your wet clothes and then you can have my—”


She reacted as if his words seared through her like one of Patrick’s red hot brands he uses on his horses.


“I most certainly will not!”


“You cannot get warm in sodden clothing,” he proclaimed.


“I will do no such thing!”


“Listen, princess,” he retorted, beginning to take off his belt and boots. “You, above all, should know this rain will be holding us here for many hours, if not days. I am not going to sit in wet, uncomfortable clothes when I have perfectly dry blankets at my exposal. And I suggest you follow my lead.”


She hadn’t long to contemplate his candid advice before he had completely disrobed.


“Oh, my goodness!” she gasped, turning her head away from his nakedness.


“You might as well get used to it, my lady. Soon you will be seeing me this way every night.”


“I will not!” she argued over her shoulder.


“Will you close your eyes to me even on our wedding night?”


“You are a stupid heathen of a man! How can you possibly think that I will want to marry you?”


“Marry you?”


Lorraine’s eyes flashed open at the sound of the man’s sharp, deep voice resonating behind her. She half expected to look over her shoulder and see him completely naked in front of her. But when she peeked around, he was standing there, hands on his hips, a look of bewilderment on his face.


“Don’t you think I should at least know your name before you propose to me?”


Lorraine brought both hands to her head. What the hell was that? One minute she was talking about being jet-legged in this man’s living room and the next she was standing in a cave—from what she could gather—watching the same man remove his wet warrior clothing while demanding she do the same on account of rain. It all seemed like a dream, yet she clearly was not sleeping.


“Is it still raining?” she asked curiously.


The blond stranger narrowed his eyes, confounded by the string of bizarre utterances coming from her lips. “It is…which is why your clothes are wet and why I was suggesting you remove them and get into dry ones.” He quickly pointed behind him. “In the bathroom, down the hall, of course.”


Relief washed over her. “I’m sorry…I’m…um,” she stuttered, words failing her.


“Are you sure you’re all right? There’s a doctor who lives up the road from here. At this hour I know he’s taken to his bed, but I think this would be considered an emergency. Clearly, you’re suffering from some mild head trauma.”

“No,” she said at once. “I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine. Really.”


He didn’t look convinced. “If you insist.”


“Yes,” she tried to say with confidence. “I just need a moment to gather my wits if you don’t mind.”


“Sure.” He reached for a pile of clothes from his coffee table and handed them to her. “I know they probably won’t fit you, but they’re dry, and I found a pair of pants with a drawn string so that might help. The bathroom’s two doors down on the left”


“Right. Thanks.” As her cheeks flushed with heat, she accepted the clothes.


But he didn’t let go of them, cocking his head in scrutiny. “So, why am I a heathen again?”


A nervous laugh fell from her mouth. “I don’t know where that came from. It was an outburst. It’s obvious you’ve been nothing but kind and gentlemanly. And I’m sorry it I came off as rude.” His eyes played over her, toying with her already scrambling mind. She’d never seen such brilliant color in a man’s eyes before, and it was hard not to drown in them.


Finally, he let go of the clothes and reached for her backpack sitting on his couch. “Trust me, you didn’t come off as rude,” he allotted, handing over her things. “However, I think you’ve given me too much credit with that ‘kind and gentlemanly’ nonsense. You might not think that come morning.”


Lorraine’s eyes widened.


“Joke, love,” he amended. “You know, for an American woman you sure are a bit uptight. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”


 THE FALL OF RAIN~ COMING DECEMBER 2011


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Excerpt from Silent Partner ...

CLOSED.

Grayson read the sign in the window and his heart sank. He checked the address again on the paper the waitress had given him and confirmed the number above the door. Stuffing the paper back in his pocket, he sighed, wondering what to do with his double order of sandwiches. He wanted to surprise Chloe with her normal ritual Sunday lunch, and share an impromptu meal with her, but it appeared she was not available.

…’til he heard music.

Loud music, coming from inside.

He turned his face and put his ear closer to the door, listening.

She had Enrique Iglecias playing—no, blaring.

He chuckled as he came away from the door, looking around to see if anyone else, passing by on the sidewalk, heard the booming cadence coming from within her gallery. Apparently, a few people did as their heads jerked around. He even saw one guy step up his walk to the beat, shaking his hips to the rhythm, and earning an elbow from his unimpressed girlfriend.

Grayson cupped his hand above his brow and peered into the window. He couldn’t see her inside, but at least he knew she was home…or working…or dancing. Whatever she was doing, she didn’t seem to want to be disturbed. The ‘Closed’ sign hanging against the pane, and the music so loud she was risking breaking several ordinances, were two big indications.

But Grayson had never been known for his reservation.

He tried knocking, and the door moved. Surprised to see it unlocked, he pushed and it opened.

He glanced around first and then entered, his excitement building in his chest. No woman had ever made him feel this way before. All giddy-like. It was quite unusual for him to care this much about seeing one specific woman, about being with her, but he enjoyed the newness and rolled with it.

Once inside, his sights raised up to the numerous paintings hanging on the walls. Each one even better than the next.

A smile crept on his lips as he took in the colors, the twisted bodies—half naked bodies—and the sensual positions of those painted partners. To him, each one looked as if they were tangled in a dance, though he doubted that was her, or anyone else’s, interpretation. He often had dancing on the brain, and if a physiologist were to hold each of these canvases up as an ink-blot test, he’d respond the same on each one. He might mix it up a bit and say that particular one was the Tango. This one was the Rumba. And that one, on the far corner, was the Paso Doble.

One thing was for sure, Chloe LaRoche had talent.

She could take a fleshy, near pornographic image and turn it into a beautiful display of sumptuous, erotic art. Just what his dance studio needed.

At the change of a song, his attention finally tore from the paintings and into the gallery as a whole. It smelled like paint and wood and Chloe. He could distinctly remember the scent of her skin from last night and it lingered all around him now. Oh, how he loved the way she smelled. Clean, with a hint of vanilla.

He walked around the small gallery, finding himself idly shopping for artwork to hang on his soon-to-be-a-studio walls. But this one…he decided as he drew closer to the register desk, was different. Hanging at eye level behind the cash register, it portrayed a solitary female with polished ivory skin, soft curves, and long dark hair draping over one shoulder. He doubted Chloe had painted such a revealing self-portrait, especially with so much detail and…skin. But he swore it looked exactly like her. From the soft curve of her hips to the modest swell of her breasts being covered by her thin dainty arm laid intentionally across her chest.

He drew even closer, leaning across the desk.

Yeah, that was her all right.

Before he realized, he was already picturing it hanging in his bedroom, envisioning the dark amber hues of her painted hair coordinating well with the deep wood grain of his cherry furniture.

Yes, that one he’d buy for himself.

As he continued to stretch across the counter, a paper blew off onto the floor. He walked around to retrieve it and when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice the bright red wording at the top: 2nd NOTICE.

Curiosity got the better of him and he glanced over the receipt. It seemed Chloe was behind on her lease and had been given her last and final warning from the landlord. He swallowed, knowing this was not his business to be reading her personal mail, and quickly returned the paper to the counter.

He felt a pang of pity and concern for Chloe. He didn’t like knowing she was struggling to make ends meet, especially with someone of her talent. Someone like her should be selling paintings left and right, with no worries of when the next paycheck would fall.

He shouldn’t care so much, for he barely knew her. But for some reason, he felt protective of her and wanted to help her through her financial difficulties. Never had he given thought to sharing his wealth with a woman. In fact, he steered clear of women who were gold diggers and leeches. Those kinds could be spotted a mile away.

Chloe was different.

She didn’t pursue him at the club like most women had. She didn’t even stick around the apartment the next morning to try her hand at gaining something for herself. Hell, she never even gave up her name. She was mysterious. Unpredictable. And until he walked into her shop, elusive.

Perhaps those things were what drew her to him so strongly. A challenge. The thrill of the hunt….

He glanced toward a door to the side of the counter, from where the loud music was coming—where Chloe no doubt was—and a strange sense of predation came over him. Every bone in his body screamed for the woman in the next room. To see her. To capture her. To claim her.

Was he out of his freakin’ mind?

She was a woman with baggage—the heaviest of all kinds—money problems. If he walked through that door, there was a strong possibility he’d be in for a hell of a lot more than what he bargained for. And since he had already slept with her, it would be nigh on impossible for him to back out.

Save face, Grayson, and walk out the door.

But he couldn’t.

He wanted to see her again, to see her look of surprise. To have her in his arms again.

Last night was the most incredible night he had ever had, and he wanted more of those nights, but only if it was with her.

Who gives a shit if she’s a struggling artist? Every person with a dream was at one point or another. Even him, years ago.

And let’s not forget the reason you pursued her in the first place. If she takes your offer of employment at Gyrations, the extra cash would surely help her.

Grayson liked the sound of that. It lay lighter on his conscience to think he could assist her without feeling as if she were picking from his pockets, nor could anyone else allege to such a thing later on. There was nothing he wanted more than to dance with this woman night after night and, quite possibly, score himself a sexy, provocative lover to boot.

Oh, but the unrelenting female club-hounds of Gyrations would be thoroughly pissed.

He smiled, pleased that his dueling thoughts seemed to have come to an agreement. With that, he stepped forward toward the door, their lunch in hand.

It was settled. Grayson Anders was going to pay his little enigmatic vixen a visit.

But the moment he opened the door, his bravado temporarily left him and all he could do was stare. Like a statue, he watched as Chloe danced around her quaint, efficiency apartment in nothing but baggy dove gray sweats and a paint-splotched t-shirt, thinking she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

Yep, he was a gonner. He knew it and didn’t care to fight it.

Her cute little bottom bumped and grinded to David Bisbol’s Oye El Boom, her legs slightly bent, her eyes closed. She held a paint brush in one hand, pressing it close to her chest like a warm body, while her other hand smoothed down the curve of her hip.

She hadn’t noticed him standing there, that was obvious, but he sure noticed the twitch in his groin. His body immediately stirred behind the tightness of jeans as his eyes were glued to her body, aching to be that very paintbrush tucked between her breasts.

He felt like he was in a gentlemen’s club, watching his own personal erotic dancer, tempting him, whetting all of his senses with tantalizing shoulder rolls and hip thrusts—minus the pole.

What was more alluring about this whole situation was she thought she was alone and she was being herself. He was able to catch a glimpse of Chloe LaRoche behind closed doors and see that she enjoyed dancing just as much as he did—and to the same style of music he listened to. Too many women in his life had pretended to like Latin-style dancing simply for the sake of winning his affection. But as he stood in his remote corner of the room, the real Chloe unfolded right before his eyes, and he was truly smitten.

Unable to be the inactive spectator any longer, he set their Styrofoam to-go lunches on the floor and walked toward her. He yearned to take her from behind, lay his hands on her hips and pull her to his body, but he feared he’d only frighten her, since she still had no idea he had entered the room. With his luck, she’d probably kick into self-defense mode and throw a heel to his balls.

No, he treasured them too much. Another time, perhaps.

Right now, he’d approach her from the front, that way he could at least see what was coming at him, should she freak out and throw punches. For some reason, the thought of catching her wrists and restraining her against him aroused him even more than his original plan.

With the music blaring in his ears, he was driven by his hunger and a deep anxious need to touch her, to dance with her. He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her into his arms.

“Care if I join you?”

 

 

 

 

Purchase  Silent Partner

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What are the CRITICS saying about Renee Vincent & SILENT PARTNER??

~REVIEWS~

"With every turn of the page the words had me drawn like a moth to a flame. The major plot twists were so well written that I never saw them coming and lets be honest anymore that is a GREAT thing to have happen. I fell in love with Gray and Chloe from page one to the very end. This was an awesome book of beautifully written love scenes, surprises at every turn, and truly good show of how one person can adapt to anything if there is love involved!" ~ 5 Fairies! Judging The Book By The Pages
Click HERE to read the full review.

"Ms. Vincent’s writing has the unique ability of capturing both the reader’s heart and mind. The emotional investment in the characters starts from the beginning. You’ll want things for them that you might never have otherwise thought about wanting for someone so fiercely. As the story builds, so does Grayson and Chloe’s indescribable chemistry. They may feel like they come from two different worlds, but they couldn’t be more compatible. The contemporary setting makes it that much easier to envision the characters and environment as the story unfolds. The title is very fitting with a few different meanings behind it, which are revealed throughout the story. I thoroughly enjoyed everything about this story and would love to see it become a movie. Another highly recommended read by Renee Vincent."

~5 Stars! Yadkny

Click HERE to read the full review.

"A wonderful contemporary romance story, full of detail, sensuality, and emotion. A keeper! This is a deeply emotional story that will resonate with you for a long while."
~ 5 Stars! Author Maddie James

"Have you ever read a book where the character stays with you long after the story has finished? Hot, sexy, and a slow burn come to my mind, when reading this story. From page one, you’re actively engaged with Grayson Anders and Chloe LaRoche as Vincent weaves a passionate tale of love, anguish and triumph. Along the way, she takes you on a plot-twisting ride that touches the heart, mind, and soul. I walked away from Silent Partner with a smile on my face and lightness in my heart."
~ Lizzie Walker

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http://pasttheprint.blogspot.com/2011/04/renee-vincent-blog-tour-giveaway.html