Thanks so much to Anna from Herding Cats & Burning Soup for allowing me to take part in the #Thankful4You Blog Hop! This was a hop I really wanted to be part of because I get to share why I am thankful.
There’s a giveaway at each stop, so please make sure you visit each one and comment. You’ll find links for all at the main page: http://theherdpresents.blogspot.ca/2015/11/thankful-for-you-giveaway-hop.html
Now, what can you win from me? Well, if you follow me you’ll know I’ve had a few releases lately. In fact, I’ve had 3 since August (Predator’s Trinity, Night Lover and Vice.) However, for this hop, I am offering an ecopy of Night Lover.
How to win? Simply comment and tell me a story of when you were thankful and why. I will choose the comment that speaks to me and will award the book accordingly at the end of the hop (it runs Nov. 20-27).
In the meantime, I’ve chosen to talk about why I’m thankful for my readers. My readers are not just people who buy my books. I consider many of them to be friends and we’ve gotten to know one another. My readers challenge me. Not only do they let me know when I’ve done something right, they let me know if I can do something better. I like that. Feedback is a gift, after all.
My readers have been so vocal in their appreciation as well. I’ve been blessed to have so many wonderful reviews and shares. I can’t tell you enough how much this means to me. Because my readers continue to pick up my books, I can create new ones. And there’s nothing I like more than giving you hot new heroes to adore.
Thank you for all your support and enthusiasm. It means the world to me.
Night Lover by Rosanna Leo
Canadian soprano Renata Bruno is tired of waiting for her big break. Unfortunately, her boss, the conductor of a chamber ensemble, sees her as little more than background material. When she learns of an opportunity to sing solo with a different troupe in England, she knows she must seize it. Especially when she hears the group is to perform Mozart’s Requiem, her favorite work.
As soon as Renata decides to make her move, a strange, sultry presence invades her life. She begins dreaming of a man, one who makes love to her, bewitching her. It isn’t long before her night lover leaves startling proof of his nocturnal presence, making her doubt her senses.
To compound her discomfort, she learns her new conductor is the college boyfriend who broke her heart years ago. As Renata grapples with old hurts and renewed passion, she must also fend off the increasingly fervent advances of her night-time visitor. She realizes she is under the influence of an incubus, a sexual demon.
It becomes harder to resist the incubus when she learns he has a name and had a tragic history. The more she discovers about his past, the more she realizes they are linked in more ways than one. Renata begins to rediscover love and her sense of faith, but will it be enough to save her night lover from an evil curse? And will it destroy her in the process?
When I saw the face in this painting, I gasped, feeling as if someone had punched me in the gut.
It was the portrait of a man, much in the style of a Gainsborough painting. Full-length, it displayed the man in Regency dress. Tall Hessian boots reached up over his pants, accentuating his height. A waistcoat peaked out from under his soft blue riding coat. I looked up to the face above the coat, clean-shaven and somehow boyish with its round features. His hair was the color of honey and quite curly, with long sideburns travelling down his cheeks. Although he bore a fashionably serious countenance, his blue eyes smiled.
The man from my recurring dream, the man from the theater mezzanine in Toronto. I blinked several times, not believing my eyes.
I couldn’t move. I returned the stare of the man in the portrait. A friendly face, it still managed to unnerve me. The artist must have been a master because its subject seemed to be looking right at me. His pale eyes bore into mine. As I continued to gaze at my dream man, other objects in the background began to blur. The portrait frame and the wallpaper behind him dissolved into nothingness. I could only make out the man, and his gaze seemed to issue me a challenge, daring me to look back at him. My head swam. My tongue grew thick. Pain shot through my stomach and I clutched it so I wouldn’t keel over.
Lizzy came out of nowhere and bounded up behind me. “What’s up? Ooh, he’s cute.” She, too, had noticed the portrait. She also saw how intently I stared. “Hey, are you okay?”
“No.” I couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t stop myself from raking my gaze over every painted inch. “It’s him. The man from my dream.”
“Yeah, right.” She frowned.
Finn walked up to us and put a hand on my back, oblivious to my shock. “So you’ve found the lord of the manor.”
“Hugh Dawlish, scion of Dawlish Manor. The women in the ensemble love this portrait because they think he’s, ah…easy on the eyes. So, shall we rehearse?”
I let him lead me away, but I couldn’t stop looking back at Hugh Dawlish’s portrait.
He was real. Not a wraith from my imagination.
Real. And dead.
Lizzy elbowed me. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
As we left the room, I looked back once more. The eyes of Hugh Dawlish followed me. I shivered.
A slight smile played on his lips.