*****

The recent release of Rakes in Tartan has led to a resurgence of interest in Temptation in Tartan, the first in my series (so far) from Ellora’s Cave, Highland Vampires. So I thought I’d throw out a Sunday Snog from Temptation, which remains one of my favorite books. I love its complexity. I hope it retains intimacy while providing a story of broad scope. And there’s the mega-hot BDSM sex, which stands in contrast to the fairly chaste buss described below.

But first–the blurbage–you want to know what it’s about, right?

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.

She was wrong.

****

Published by Ellora’s Cave in June 2012, Temptation in Tartan reached #1 on the All Romance Ebooks bestseller list for historical (other) romance and spent a full week in the top five.

And now, the sweetly sexy snog:

The tiny chapel had been a good choice on her mother’s part. Without the attendance of family and friends, using any of the larger, more popular churches would have been frightful. Set offside the main kirk, the chapel, with only a tapestry depicting Christ’s birth, was by contrast cozy, comfortably holding the few attendees: Lydia’s cousin, her mother, plus Kieran’s cousin Dugald Kilborn. Kier’s cousin shared what she guessed were family traits: tall form, dark hair and that strange, pale skin. P’raps the Highlands weren’t sunny.

The local cleric stumbled over the words of the standard Church of England ceremony, and Lydia guessed that her mother had insisted upon the ritual that was familiar to her rather than what local custom preferred. Then the fellow

available at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10121-temptation-in-tartan.aspx

spoke a few words in Gaelic and asked her to do the same. She obeyed, stumbling over the unfamiliar sibilants.

She cast a frightened glance at Kieran, hoping he wasn’t angry. She hadn’t meant to mock his people…their people. But he watched her, the slight smile curving his lips the sole betrayal of his mood. His eyes twinkled reassuringly before one lid dropped, an unmistakable wink.

She completely lost the thread of what the priest had said and stopped speaking. Instead she simply stood there and stared at him, blinking in confusion.

His grin stretched wider and he picked up where she’d left off, repeating the Gaelic with calm certainty. He took her hand and placed his wrist next to hers. His skin felt cool and a little damp, as though he were sweating with nerves, but his face showed no hint of anxiety.

The cleric wrapped cloth around their wrists and their hands were even closer. Despite the tightness of the binding, he turned his forearm to grasp her fingers. His hold was firm and determined.

She looked down. His hand and hers were pale as dawn,  indistinguishable in color. Where did she end and Kieran begin?

His fingers tightened, and she relished that, noticing his size and strength compared to hers.

Gasps came from the onlookers and again she blinked, confused. Then she noticed that the bright swatch of fabric that the cleric had twisted around them was tartan. It bore two shades of blue crisscrossed by bright yellow and red stripes.

Forbidden, but Kieran had dared.

She met his eyes again and he leaned toward her to whisper in her ear. “I couldna resist yer dowry, kylyrra.”

His breath tickled her ear. Then he shifted to kiss first her forehead, then her cheek and mouth, just as he had before, giving her an extra buss on the lips. Affectionate rather than blatantly lustful, and she liked that.

Then he raised their bound hands high and kissed the back of hers. His dark eyes surveyed her with a serious regard and even a little possessive pride. “Yer mine, now.”

That evoked a shiver. But why?

About me:

Best-selling erotica novelist Suz deMello

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

–Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

–For editing services, email her at [email protected]

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