Readers, have I got a treat for you. One of my favorite new author has just announced book two in her Stones of Iona series is coming this June. She is thrilled to share her cover and so am I. Without further ado, here it is:
Isn't it gorgeous? I love the purple color scheme.
Scroll down to read all about it, including an excerpt.
Title Stone of Fear
Author Margaret Izard
Genre Paranormal Romance
Publisher The Wild Rose Press
Book Blurb
She’d give everything to keep his love. He’d chase her through time to save her soul.
Marie Murray, a spunky expert on spiritual buildings, jumps at the opportunity to renovate the chapel mosaic floor at Dunstaffnage Castle, where she falls hard for the dashing John MacArthur. From their first kiss, sparks fly.
Believing her religious renovation creates magic, a fanatical priest kidnaps Marie. Obsessed with obtaining a powerful magic Stone of Iona, he drags her to 15th-century Scotland.
With his love kidnapped, John must tackle his hereditary duty and locate a magic Fae stone while chasing his love across time. Her memories of their passion keep her sane. His fuel his will to find her.
Will John get to Marie in time to save her soul?
Excerpt
Marie made her way down the stairs and through the great hall toward the kitchen. She stepped inside and set the candle on the counter. The first cabinet she opened found no cups. Marie shifted to the next cabinet. The cups must be here somewhere.
A creak sounded behind her, and Marie whipped around. No one was there. She stood still for a moment in the dimly lit room. She could’ve sworn she saw a movement in the shadows. She breathed in an uneven pattern as the light from her candle cast ominous shapes on the wall and doorway. She turned back to the cabinet and opened another, grabbed a cup, and her candle went out leaving her in pitch dark. She gasped and gripped the cup to her chest.
She turned around as she tried to detect the candle in the dark to light it. Lightning lit up the room, and she spied the candle for a moment. Marie placed her hand on the counter and patted down, only to find the sink. Thunder boomed again, and she yelped as she gripped the cup. She extended her hand out again, but this time encountered something warm.
Marie screamed as she held the cup for dear life. Large arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. Her face rested against a man’s naked chest which wiggled as he chuckled. She took a deep breath, smelled John’s scent of light musk, and relaxed in his embrace.
“Sorry, a nighean,” my girl. “I only meant to play with ye. I didn’t think I’d scare ye.”
Marie huffed and pushed against him. “Well, ye scared me all right. Thought I found the ghostie, the Green Lady of Dunstaffnage, in the flesh.” She lifted her head, peeked at him, then rested her hand on his naked chest.
John stepped back as he took her cup. It clinked as he set it on the counter. She felt him move away as his form shifted towards the stove. The clank of the kettle told her he’d picked it up.
His body moved to her and he reached around her to turn on the water. The kettle filled with a gurgle. He amazed her at how he easily navigated the kitchen in the darkness.
In a flash of lighting, his white teeth glowed as his voice calmed her. “Didn’t ye want some tea?”
Marie blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and his face outlined in the dark, close to hers.
She took a deep breath. “Aye, tea would be nice.”
John chuckled as he moved away. “This happens every storm.” At the stove, with his eyes on hers, he opened the drawer, took out a long lighter, and held it up. He smiled, flicked it on, then lit the stove manually casting him in shadow. He stretched over her and lit the candle. A warm light illuminated the room and cast a golden glow around them.
As he pulled back, he stopped when their faces were a mere breath apart and stared into her eyes. He stepped closer and smiled as he reached to the cabinet behind Marie and retrieved another cup.
Marie shifted out of his way, but he placed the cup on the counter stopping her motion. He put the lighter on the other side. John leaned on the counter trapping her between his arms.
He gazed into her eyes as he opened the drawer next to her hip. His hand shifted around, then pulled out the tea and tea strainers and set them on the counter. His gaze held hers.
Marie raised an eyebrow. “I see ye’ve made tea in the dark before.”
John smiled. “Aye.”
Lightning lit up the room, and thunder reverberated off the walls. Marie jumped, and her hands gripped his shoulders. John took her hands into his, kissed one, then placed them around his neck as he wrapped her in his embrace. She rested her head on his chest, her ear aligned with his heart. Beneath his warm skin, its steady beat calmed her. Marie took a deep breath, and they stood there in the night as they held each other. The rain made shadows on the moonlit window and ran down the glass in wavy patterns. Thunder rumbled, but farther away now.
She wasn’t sure who moved first, but she gazed into his eyes. He shifted closer, and his lips brushed hers lightly. She didn’t stop to think, only feel.
Their lips twirled and his heart beat against hers, then her heartbeat rushed. His hand caressed her face while the other anchored her to his body. She relished the play of their mouths as warmth spread from her neck to her toes, making her knees weak. Her hands traveled over his chest as she ran her fingers through the soft hair.
He deepened the kiss, and she molded her palms over the muscles of his shoulders, then trailed them back to his chest again. John’s kisses sent tingles from her fingertips to her toes. She tilted her head and moaned as John trailed kisses down her neck.
The tea kettle whistled loudly. Marie jerked away, but John held on to her.
He whispered, “Stay here. Don’t move an inch.” John crossed to the stove, shut off the gas, and shifted the kettle to another burner. He stopped and lowered his head as he rubbed his neck. They stood there momentarily. She glanced down, took a deep breath, and turned away.
Before she proceeded farther, he came beside her and took her into his arms, her face in his hand. “Where are ye going?”
Marie wouldn’t look at him. “Back to bed.”
John’s thumb shifted under her chin as he tilted her head till their eyes met. He gazed at her a moment, glanced over her face, eyes, and mouth.
His hand caressed her hair. “Sit up with me, please?” His eyes shifted to her face again. “I can’t sleep in storms. Spend the time with me over a cup of tea. We can sit by the fireplace in the hall.”
Marie blushed. “Aye, I can’t sleep either. I’ll sit up with ye.”
John kissed her nose, then stepped away. His easy manner soothed the storm jitters away. John moved close to her, handed her a cup, and placed his hand on her back as they made their way out of the kitchen.
Marie stopped. “John, the candle. Ye need to blow out the candle.”
He leaned down and blew out the candle. “That’s the second time I’ve blown that candle out tonight.”
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Author Biography
Margaret Izard is an award-winning author of historical fantasy and paranormal romance novels. She spent her early years through college to adulthood dedicated to dance, theater, and performing. Over the years, she developed a love for great storytelling in different mediums. She does not waste a good story, be it movement, the spoken, or the written word. She discovered historical romance novels in middle school, which combined her passion for romance, drama, and fantasy. She writes exciting plot lines, steamy love scenes and always falls for a strong male with a soft heart. She lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and adult triplets and loves to hear from readers.
You can email me at: info@margaretizardauthor.com
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