Today starts the new round of Medieval Monday Spring due to Ashley York's endeavor.
It lasts between 6th April and 22 June.
As usual, at this first post, each of the authors who take part in the tour present their book on their blog/website page.
So, today I bring to your attention, once again, Shadows of the Past, a paranormal, light romance/light historical/light horror novel. And to avoid boring you I will post a new excerpt.
Thank you for visiting my post.
Blurb
Anne's relationship with her boyfriend Neil has disintegrated. After a two-year separation, they pack for a week vacation in hopes of reconciling. But fate has other plans for them.
The discovery of a bejeweled cross and ancient human bones opens a door to a new and frightening world--one where the ghost of a medieval nun named Genevieve will not let Anne rest. This new world threatens not only to ruin Anne and Neil's vacation but to end all hopes of reconciliation as Anne feels compelled to help free Genevieve's soul from its torment.
Can Anne save her relationship and help Genevieve find her eternal rest?
A touching, compelling story of tragedy, loss and the power of endless love and good magic.
The twists and turns in this paranormal tale keep the reader guessing up to the end and weave themselves together into a quest to rekindle love.
Buy Link:
Excerpt
Andrew pulled her to his chest.
"Do you regret you've come with me?"
Passion smothered Genevieve's
doubt and guilt. "Never," she answered, aware of her body's response
to his touch, and she succumbed to his embrace.
The moonlight bathed his face in
silver light. Andrew lowered her wimple, and his fingers threaded into her
curls. She swayed, enveloped by the dizzy sensation of drowning in the
tumultuous ocean of his gaze. The tenderness of his touch raised in her the wish
they had lived in another time and been simple, ordinary people. She longed to
feel the warmth of his lips on hers. How much she'd have liked to live the rest
of her life beside him and bear his children. A dream not likely to ever come
true for her. Why not let the feeling lurking in the pit of her stomach take
over and consume her whole being?
Aware of the track of her
thoughts, she shifted uneasily, a hot flush warmed her cheeks. Drawing in a
deep breath in spite of herself, calming the gnawing unease in her mind and the
thought of Sister Dominica guessing she was the dough of a sinner, Genevieve
repeated, "Never."
With her eyes closed and their
bodies touching she became, for the very first time, simply a woman. She melted
in his embrace in spite of the invisible vicious threat breathing around them.
Aware they might never be alone again, she fought hard to silence the voice of
conscience berating her.
"Oh, God. Please forgive
me," Andrew muttered under his breath when he bowed his head to kiss her.
Their lips met in a passionate first kiss.
/././././././././././././.
. . . . . . . . .
Far in the forest, the sprightly
stream’s clear waters sang their ancient song down the moss-covered banks.
Reaching an old, crooked oak tree, bearing the seal of recent lightning damage,
the waters trembled, turned muddy and the pale, distorted face of a woman
emerged. Her raven black hair floated around her head, the long black tresses
writhing and coiling on the waves, like snakes trying to pry free and attack.
Her eyes flew open and a hideous grin stretched her lips. She blinked several
times and gurgled a hoarse threat to someone known only to her, “You imagine
you thwarted my plans even from beyond the grave, but you’re wrong. You shall hear
from me. You shall all hear from me! Soon.”
Little by little, the waters of
the river became an ugly shade of green, covered the ghastly face, and
continued down to the green pastures in the valley while an ominous silence,
harbinger of the woman’s spiteful threat, settled over the rugged mountain and
its mysterious forest.
