Thursday Threads welcomes Dawn Ireland!

Title: The Perfect Duke
Genre: Historical Romance (Late Georgian Era)
Heat Level: Sensual

Back Cover Blurb

Known as The Marble Duke amongst the Ton, Garret Weston, the Duke of Kendal sets himself apart from his peers. Nothing will hinder his guilt-driven attempt to become a perfect duke. Nothing that is, save the alluring and imaginative betrothed he’d thought dead. His intended believes-of all things-that she is a Vicar’s daughter. The “perfect” duke needs a “perfect” duchess, but how was he to discern her suitability? Employing her as a governess to his niece seemed like an ideal solution. But whose “suitability” is being tested? His betrothed refuses to see he is beyond redemption. And most grievous of all, she stirs his blood, making him forget what’s important.

Cara believes fairy tales really can come true, until she meets the unrelenting and arrogant Duke of Kendal. He looks like a Prince, but acts like a Beast. Why must he challenge her at every turn? Her greatest peril is her attraction to the vulnerable, seductive man behind the title. A match between them would be impossible. But can she show him, without losing her heart that “perfect” is in the eye of the beholder?


“The horse seems to know you.”

“He should. There was a time when I practically lived in the stable. Storm was my favorite.”

“What happened?”

“I became a duke.”


He straightened and forced his features into a mask of indifference. “So, Rachel loves horses.” He turned to face Cara. “I can appreciate my niece’s fondness, but I can not allow her to frequent the stable.”

“Why not?”

“It is not proper for young ladies of her station.”

“Garret, she’s a child.”

It was the first time she’d used his name, and somehow, Rachel visiting the horses didn’t seem like such a large request. “I will only allow it if she uses the passageway. At least I can keep the knowledge of her visits to a minimum. If you come with her, you will need to use the tunnel as well.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She blushed and turned away. “I’m afraid.” She said it so quietly, he wasn’t sure he heard her.

“Afraid? Of what?”

“Dark, enclosed places. Even as a child, I fell asleep with a candle burning.” She faced him and gave a small smile. “Perhaps I’m afraid that a beast will gobble me up in the dark.”

“There are no beasts at Belcraven, Miss McClure. I would not allow anyone to hurt you.”


“Never.” He started toward her and stopped. Damn, it would be better if he didn’t get close to her. As he left the stable, her whisper followed him.

“Not even you?”


The Perfect Duke



Welcome to the BTS Blog hop

Welcome to the BTS and Soul Mate Publishing Blog hop! Enter to win a free e-copy of my book, The Marker, and a sneak peak into my latest release, Highland Deception. Follow the links to find out more!

Here’s the back cover blurb for Highland Deception

When Kenneth Mackay, long-banished rogue and thief, returns to the Mackay holding at the request of his brother, he has no idea what he might find. He certainly doesn’t expect to be confronted with his twin’s imminent death, or wtih the plan his brother has concocted.

Ten years before, Malcolm made a tragic mistake, and, to preserve the family name–and his own skin–he allowed Kenneth to take the fall. Now that he is dying without an heir, Malcolm plans to atone for his mistake: by giving Kenneth his life back. All Kenneth has to do is assume his brother’s identity. But complicating matters is the unexpected return of Lady Isobel Mackay, the daughter of an English marquess and the wife Malcolm didn’t want.

Isobel barely knows the husband who abandoned her even before their marriage began, and she’d long since given up on having a real marriage with him. Yet when she returns to the Mackay holding far earlier than expected, she finds her husband a changed man. Despite the hurt between them, Isobel’s heart responds to this man who cares for his entire clan as if there wre family. Who, for the first time, cares for her as if she is, too.

Falling in love with her husband had never been part of Isobel’s plan. But when their future is suddenly in peril, Isobel must find a way to save him–from himself and from the deception threatening to tear them apart.

Click on the link below to find out more about the blog hop! And leave a comment here for your chance to win!

A New Day

Last weekend, my very old, quite senile Jack Russell terrier died.

We’d expected it for some time. After all, when we went camping last summer, the dog passed out more than once trying to poo. When we took her to the vet, he could only shrug and say, “Well, she’s almost 17.”

While we didn’t expect it this way, she went out the way she lived…as a bad dog.

In any case, we still have Big Dog Frank. He’s enough to fill a room.

But…but…Frank was lonely. And the house was a little empty. And… I wanted a second dog before Frank became a crotchety old man. He’ll be eight in April, so he’s getting close.

Perhaps I should have resisted, but I didn’t.

So, without further ado, meet my furry addition: Vanilla Bean AKA Nilla.

(Also, Frank and Bean was unintentionally funny)


Thursday Threads Welcomes Neva Brown

Genre: Contemporary
Heat Level: Sensual


When they finally stopped swimming and stood up in the shallow end of the pool, the icy wind of early fall shocked them both into quick action…he grabbed a huge beach towel and wrapped it round her and hugged her tightly, pressing her body against his own.

Shivering from the cold, Casey snuggled close to Tres. As her shaking eased, she became more aware of his body. He had one arm round her shoulders and the other lower. His hand was on her bottom, pressing her against him from head to toe. He wasn’t cold. His hot, full arousal pulsating against her abdomen fueled a new kind of shiver in her. She leaned into his maleness with primal need. His eyes, bright and feral, devoured her. As she wiggled to step away, he moved his hand from her shoulder to the back of her head. His lips brushed her temple and cheek, trailed down to her neck, then settled gently on her lips that had parted in awe at the sensations she felt. The motion of his mouth against hers sent sparks through her blood. His tongue traced her lips, slipping inside to touch her tongue as he moved his hand to palm her breast and smooth his thumb across the engorged nipple.

The towel slipped to the floor. He gently brushed aside a strap of her swimsuit. As his lips left hers and closed over her exposed breast, her eyes flew open in panic. Jerking her arms from around his waist, not remembering having put them there, she whispered, “Tres, please. I can’t handle this.” She breathed in shallow gasps.

Slowly, he released her breast and raised his head. Pulling the strap up and encasing her throbbing breast, he frowned. “You look like you’ve never been kissed before.”

In awe, she said, “Not like that.”

Tres studied her through a haze of thwarted desire and let her step away from him. His thoughts raced. Has she forgotten that part of her life, or is she telling the truth?



Valentine’s Day

I’m a romance writer, so I love the idea of Valentine’s Day. The practice of it, meh. Valentine’s Day tends to center around love and food and romantic presents. Food is hard for me unless I cook it, and romantic presents tend to cost money (and grand, sweeping gestures tend to take time we don’t have).

The love part, though…That I can do.

Husband and I met when I was twenty, and started dating when I was twenty-one. Those were the days when the grand, romantic gestures meant more to me. Our first Valentine’s Day together, he bought me a sapphire ring, something he termed a “not quite promise ring, but yeah I think so.”

He gave it to me while nervously shifting his weight and only occasionally looking at my face. It was cute and sweet and, in its own way, hopelessly romantic.

Those first years together, he went all out. Romantic dinners we couldn’t afford, big presents–you know, all the things the commercials promoting Valentine’s Day tell me I should want.

But I don’t care about all that stuff anymore.

Oh, sure, I love big presents, and adore romantic gestures. But I didn’t marry a romance writer, I married a cop.

Luckily for him, he did marry a romance writer, and I can see the love in the every day things he does.

There is love in the fact that he will get up in the middle of the night to let my aging, demented dog outside, because he knows I won’t go back to sleep if I have to turn on the lights.

There’s love in the fact that he’ll cook tacos on days that I work late, because I like them. And last night, he did the dishes, even though I told him I’d do them in the morning.

I can see the love when he will go to sleep with the lights on, just so I can finish up edits. He doesn’t even complain, despite the late hour (it’s generally around one in the morning by the time I finish, and yes, we both will get up early and go to day jobs). But he will just lay down next to me and go to sleep, with his hand on my hip.

When he’s gone, and his side of the bed is empty, I can’t sleep, and I know, wherever he is, he can’t either. There’s romance in that, too.

And when I’m sick, he’ll stay home and take care of me. When it’s really bad, he rarely even leaves the room. He’ll just grab a computer and hang with me, and he won’t complain about that either.

So those are the romantic gestures I treasure. I don’t recall every fancy meal we ever ate (though some of them are quite memorable), but I do remember the little things he does to show me he loves me.

And it’s more than enough.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

Thursday Threads!

The S.E.R.A. Files Volume I by C.T. Green
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Heat Level: Scorching
This is a collection of short stories featuring the men and women of the Supernatural Entity Recovery Agency.

Angels are trouble. But a Fairy Godmother is The Law.

Callie Burns works for SERA, the Supernatural Entity Recovery Agency, aka the Scary Fairies. As a Fairy Godmother, it’s Callie’s job to grant wishes and deport supernatural creatures back to their plane of existence. Now she’s got an angel in her sights… Gabriel’s a gorgeous, sexy distraction to Callie doing her duty. But she has a reputation to maintain and no smoking hot angel is going to mess that up. Gabriel is determined he’s not going anywhere and he’ll try everything he can to convince Callie he belongs on Earth. But she’s equally determined to get the job done before the angel kills everything in sight – even if that means fulfilling Gabriel’s deepest fantasy.

Vampires go for the throat. But a Fairy Godmother aims lower…
Elizabeth and Mercury both work for SERA, the Supernatural Entity Recovery Agency. Despite the fact Elizabeth’s a Fairy Godmother and Mercury’s a vampire, they make a deadly duo when it comes to deporting supernatural beings. But Mercury and Elizabeth’s perfect partnership changes the night a wish is granted.

Now Elizabeth can’t think of Mercury without remembering how sexy the vampire is under his cool demeanour and designer clothes. And Mercury can’t forget the taste of Elizabeth’s blood nor the desire to have her in every other way as well. Can their partnership survive and will they find a way to grant their very own wishes?

A lone wolf is about to find out old dogs can learn new tricks.
Navarre is a werewolf and the Director of SERA. It’s his job to oversee the agents who deport supernatural beings from Earth. He loves his work and his vaunted reputation for remaining calm under pressure. But all that is about to change. Tor is also a werewolf and SERA’s newest agent. He’s out to catch not only the bad guy, but his elusive boss as well. It’s love at first sight for Tor, but Navarre doesn’t seem willing to take another chance on a relationship. When a mission goes bad and suddenly it’s Tor’s life on the line, Navarre must overcome his fears if he’s going to experience true love before it’s too late.

Two’s company, will three prove too much of a crowd?
Absinthe is a Fairy Godmother with SERA and Bryce is her irresistible partner. Absinthe is all about getting to know Bryce away from the job, but he comes with one big problem. His best friend Grey is a werewolf and Absinthe does not do wolves. Bryce is in love with Absinthe. Problem is, he’s also in love with Grey. It will take something extraordinary to bring Grey and Absinthe together. Tracking a cold-blooded killer may just be the start of a beautiful romance. Will Bryce’s stubborn wolf and prejudiced fairy overcome their differences enough to not only stay alive, but also form a bond strong enough to last a lifetime?

A good SERA agent knows there’s only one Sin that matters.

As an agent and ‘evaluator’ for SERA, Jane is sent in to re-educate their only male Fairy Godmother before he does something even the Scary Fairies can’t ignore.

Sin’s sick of being the brunt of jokes and the latest pin-up after a nude picture scandal. He’s also indecently fascinated with his new ‘minder’, Jane. When a wish shows Sin a very different side to Jane, he’s desperate to find out more. On the hunt for a supernatural with a dangerous new toy and evil plans, Jane and Sin find out how well they work as a team. But can he get the prim and proper agent to loosen up enough to love a naughty fairy while she tries her very best to reform Sin?

Recovering Gabriel
…Time to do her job and get this guy home where he belonged. In fact, that’s what Callie’s work entailed. Helping Gabriel get back to Heaven. Literally. The last thing anyone needed were fallen angels tromping about on Earth, causing havoc in women’s underwear…


He’d been wracking his brains for six months while waiting for her to approach him. Every time he thought she was about to pin him down, she’d shy away. It’d gotten to the point he’d nearly blown his cool, stormed right up to her, and announced his plans.
Today she’d caught him by surprise, cornering him in the alley, all sass and starch, taking the big, bad angel down. So damn sexy.

Handling Mercury

“Enough is enough, vampire.” Elizabeth glared up at him, but he just stared back with those deep silver eyes of his glimmering from between thick black lashes.

“I’m sick of your overweening desire to be a hero all the time.” She gave him the hairy eyeball for a moment longer, but Mercury remained silent. And apparently unrepentant.


…Mercury backed away, snatching up his clothes. He didn’t even bother to throw them on before he bolted into the darkness and away from his partner.

Because he knew that one taste of Elizabeth hadn’t been enough to satisfy him. It was never going to be enough.

Finding Navarre

Tor Whitfield stood in the shadowed alley, upwind of the Thai restaurant and the wolf having dinner al fresco. Alone.

He rubbed his shoulder where Navarre’s bite still tingled. Oh yeah, he’d gotten his wish all right. Just like Absinthe had promised…

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I simply don’t feel the need to stare at you constantly.” Navarre chose to meet the dark eyes instead of gawking at the snug T-shirt and jeans outlining far too much tempting acreage.
Dieu, may I not get struck down for that blatant lie.

Tasting Absinthe
Absinthe sucked on an ice cube and ignored the squiggly feeling in her stomach. It reminded her an awful lot of jealousy and she simply didn’t care what Bryce did. Not one bit. There was no room in her life for a big, gorgeous, muscular, pain in the ass.

“So beautiful.” Unable to resist the soft pink fullness of her lips, he leant over intending to sample them. Just once.
The gun muzzle against his head came as a bit of a surprise. “Okay, I’m going to sit up now. Would really appreciate it if you didn’t blow my brains out.”

“Believe me, I doubt anyone would notice.”

“Nothing to forgive. I understand.” Grey rubbed a thumb down her cheek, mildly surprised she let him. A lot more surprised when she turned her face into his palm and planted a kiss there.

“Thank you for saving my life.” Her words tickled his sensitive skin and caused his body to react the way it always did around her…

Chasing Sin
Those sky-high heels are not sexy. Especially when one’s tapping like a bloody drum.

Sin ground his teeth and ignored Miss Jane Pilkins, his SERA evaluator. He focussed on the grinning demon in front of him instead…

Who was he kidding? The heels were damn hot. So were those cute glasses Miss Pilkins kept peering at him so disapprovingly over.

It was just her imagination that she was the focus of all eyes because she was doing an illicit printout of a naked SERA agent. Well, Sin had been mostly naked.

Find C.T. Green at the following places:
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Romance Weekly–Characters!

image001Look out! It’s time for another blog post for Romance Weekly, where we answer questions posed by other writers and then link to one another. Follow the loop all the way around to meet some new-to-you authors! Today I’m linking to Dani Jace!

1. Do you have a favourite character from any of your books?

I suppose that my characters and my books are supposed to be like children, and you’re not supposed to have a favorite. Actually, I think my books are like my children–my favorite changes from day to day. Just like on some days, tiny daughter is my favorite kid and other days, my squirrelly son is the favorite. I guess it depends on who last barfed on my bed (they’re like cats, those two).

Right now, I’m sort of between favorites. Overall, I suppose I still am rather partial to Luke Bradshaw, my hero in Jessie’s War. Gah, I loved him so much it was crazy. He and Jessie made me cry.

But I just got finished with edits on Highland Deception, and I forget sometimes how much I love Kenneth (I suppose I’m partial to my guys). Kenneth is at the kind of guy you want to have around: strong, controlled, capable. Quiet and contemplative, but not in a Mr. Darcy kind of way. He was nicer than that. Less broody, too, I suppose, despite his predicament.

I guess I’m not into the hotheaded, impetuous alpha male. I like my heroes more thoughtful. I don’t want–and never did–the guy who will get so angry he’ll punch a wall. I want the guy who–even if he’s super angry and wants to punch a wall–can control himself.

2. If you were him/her what would you have done differently in their situation?

I’m not sure. If I were Luke, I’d tell Jessie that I was sorry at the start. I would have told her that I had always loved her, and then hoped she could forgive me. You know, instead of being obstinate about it. I don’t really blame him for how he chose to handle it, but Jessie sure would have been a lot more receptive if he’d just been open about things.

If I were Kenneth? I’m not sure. His situation was messed up from the start. He tried to make things right from the very beginning. He tried to do his duty to his clan and to Isobel, even though things were difficult between them from the first moment they laid eyes on one another. It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t hers, either. But it was difficult between them for a very long time.

3. Do you believe in the traditional HEA or do you think sometimes characters don’t need (or maybe deserve) them?

I write traditional HEAs. While I often read books that don’t have a traditional HEA, I guess I fall so in love with my characters that I think they deserve them.

Some people write very, very flawed characters. I had a friend who wrote a story where I wasn’t sure the hero deserved his happy ending. I couldn’t see past his predicament, I guess. I would have been content with that story if he hadn’t gotten his HEA.

My characters are flawed, but not fatally. I don’t write philanderers or disloyal characters. My characters have good hearts, even if they’re flawed on the outside. Every one of my characters is redeemable, so I can forgive them their flaws and want them to have the happy ending that everyone (okay, most people) deserves.

Thanks for the questions. Why don’t you go check out what Dani Jace has to say on the subject?

Thursday Threads Welcomes RB Austin!

Fallen Redemption by R B Austin
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Heat Level: Sizzling


Killing Fallen to save mankind is Cade’s redemption for murder and only one human—mouthwatering and absolutely forbidden—stands in his way.

Cade committed himself to saving lives before he learned the full consequences of his life-altering decision. It wasn’t until he was tending his sick wife that he learned the enormity of what he’d done and he was unable to save her from the monster he had become. Consumed with guilt and praying for absolution, he threw himself into killing every Fallen he could find to save the humans he’d sworn to protect. But then Emma, deliciously mortal and completely forbidden, swept into his world, stirring an overpowering desire. Now he’s not only fighting soulless creatures, but also his inner cravings, trying to maintain his distance and continue on his path to forgiveness. He won’t lose control again and lose another love.


The cut was small and not deep, it would stop bleeding in a matter of minutes.

Blood seeped from the wound. It trickled down Sarah’s wrist and pooled in her upturned hand.

He froze.

Changes overcame his body. Uncontrollable. Unknown.

Breath quickened. Heart pounded as loud as a horse’s gallop. Sarah hadn’t awakened. The pain from her cut was insubstantial compared to the pain of her sickness.

The thick, crimson liquid flowing from the wound was anything but insubstantial to Caderyn. Still unable to move, his eyes hadn’t wavered from the blood. The tray left his hands and clattered to the ground. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, bringing himself an inch from the cut. The scent of blood filled his nostrils. Consumed all thought. Sight. He wanted to close his eyes and savor the reverent aroma filling his senses. Something awakened inside of him.




He was hungry, yet didn’t want food. Thirsty, but didn’t want to reach for a cup of water. Another drop of blood welled from the cut. A growl tore from his throat.

It was the switch and it had been thrown.

One moment he was himself. The monster inside separate. Next the wall between the two vanished. He was the Behnshma. His humanity gone. Another growl. It echoed around the house. Filled his ears.

He was ravenous. The fact he hadn’t eaten in a little over a week ached his empty belly and burned his dry, parched throat. There were two pricks of pain in his top gum. Finger in his mouth, he found two long, sharp as knives, teeth. Like Elias. Like the wolves in the forest when they tore into a deer carcass. Their muzzles bloody, meat dangling from their mouths. Blood.

He knew what he wanted to do, what his body demanded he do. Caderyn licked his lips and his tongue nicked an elongated tooth. His own blood melted decadently over his tongue. A flood of senses erupted. Never had he tasted anything this wonderful. His mouth zinged with flavor. The blood coated his throat. He’d been dying of thirst his whole life but hadn’t known it. Warmth spread through his body.
His hands shook as he brought them to Sarah’s arm. Grasping her wrist and forearm he leaned toward the blood. Inch by inch. He was a magnet and her arm was the polar opposite.

Her inaudible yelp of fright permeated through the rushing noise in his ears. He tore his eyes away and met her wide-eyed startled ones.


Fear was an acrid, burning stench in his nostrils. Her thoughts a chaotic jumble weaving through his mind. She tried to move her lethargic limbs. Tried to escape. To break free.

He flexed his hands, squeezing her arm as his gaze trailed from the vein in her neck to the one in her wrist right below the cut. The blood slowed and the edges of the wound begun to dry. The tangy, copper scent of the fresh liquid underneath her skin reached his nose. Caderyn listened to it pass through her veins. Faster and faster.
Ignoring his wife’s futile attempts to escape, he leaned closer and inhaled. A growl erupted from his throat. He bent. Licked the wound. Groaned. His cock hardened.

Sarah, panicked now, tried to yank her arm free. It was the most she’d moved in days. Growling, like a dog with his bone, he held down her upper arm and her squirming hand. Pushed it back until her forearm bowed, and the cut extended to him like a present.

Caderyn. Please. I beg you.

He was hurting her arm. Scaring her. She was begging.

Flicking his tongue over her wrist, he caught another drop of the thick liquid gold. Then another and another. It wasn’t enough. He bared his teeth, striking fast to sink them deep into her wrist. She gave a weak jerk. Caderyn drew her blood into his mouth with long pulls. His cock jerked and warmth spread inside his breeches. There was no stopping. Her struggles to escape were an annoying insect buzzing around the room. The pleas to stop were shouts in his head. Both were easy to ignore. Sarah ceased to struggle.

He was killing her.

He couldn’t stop.

And didn’t stop until she was dead


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Romance Weekly!

It’s time for another post from Romance Weekly. Here are the questions for this week, submitted by the ever fabulous Katie O’Connor (I like the name, by the way!)

1. What is the weirdest question you have been asked about writing?

The one that I find most amusing is this one: “Do you write about yourself?”

Um, yeah, because I’m totally a 18th century Scottish laird. Totally.

In a related question, I often get, “Is this you you, or writer you?”

The answer to that question is simple: I am writer me. Just because I refer to my writer persona as my alter ego doesn’t mean that I have another personality living in there. I don’t. I swear it’s not plain old Mary in the morning and wild child Meggan at night, like the split personality sagas from every soap opera from the 1980s. “Look, she has on glasses! It’s Mary, and she’s a librarian by day. But at night, she’ll take off those glasses and take her hair out of the straight-laced bun, and she’s a murderous stripper!”

Um, no. I’m just me. No skeletons in this closet. And no, I’m not a stripper by night. Or by day. Or in any light. Ever. No one needs to see that. After two babies and four hernia surgeries, really, I’m feeling pretty daring if I walk out my door without Spanx on. No, seriously.

2. What was the most exciting thing about your writing career so far?

I suppose it was when I got “the call” from Soul Mate publishing. I’d submitted on a lark, and because the publisher promised a detailed critique. Honestly, I thought to myself, “Hey, it’s cheaper than a contest.” I didn’t expect anything. Then I got asked for a full, and i thought, “Ooo, maybe I’ll get good feedback on the whole thing.”

But then, a few mornings later, I got an email offering me a contract. Actually, I was walking into work when I got it (because I’m addicted to my phone, I’ll admit). I sat down on the curb, right there at the school, and read the email four or five times before I actually believed it.

That was a good day.

But there are other days that are really exciting, too. Because I’m a relatively slow writer, I don’t publish really more than once a year. So every time I get a cover, I get super excited. My next cover is really something, and I’m super excited about it. This time, when I got my cover, I actually dropped my phone, because it was so awesome. These are good days, and wonderful surprises.

3. Do you get your story ideas from real life or real people? If not, where do they come from?

If I were to ever write a contemporary, I might base it on a friend of mine and her dating (mis)adventures. She’s totally behind this endeavor, so that would be okay. But otherwise, no. I make these people up.

See, when I write, I very rarely start with the characters. I devise a plot, and then the characters come forward to introduce themselves, like actors trying out for parts. Sometimes, the first character who shows up gets rejected for the main manuscript, because he or she doesn’t fit the story. Sometimes, the characters insist that they stay exactly as they are, if not tweaked for the worse. For instance, in The Marker, some of my original readers and judges from contests felt that Nicholas was unlikable, because he was drunk, a gambler, and he was willing to allow a remarkably unsavory wager. But every time I tried to change him, to show in those first few chapters that he had a good heart, he dug his heels in and got worse. He eventually let his good heart show, but not in the beginning. He was drunk, or hung over, in those.

But in Highland Deception, I wanted my hero to be more hot-headed. I thought I wanted a fiery Scotsman, a fighter. You know, like traditional Highlander heroes.

Yet, when I tried to write him that way, he insisted that that wasn’t his character. Given his history, he had learned to curb his temper, so while he could fight, that was never his first option. So while I thought I would be writing a brash, alpha male Scot, the character I wrote was a quieter, more contemplative version of the alpha male. He doesn’t act without thinking. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be alive.

For more on these questions, follow the link to Leslie Hachtel! I’m excited to see her answers!