I really like that cover. Welcome, Samanthya, and in a few sentences, what can you tell us about THE TRUE ONE?
His ship in splinters and his men captured, Stephen is a broken man. Yet the torture he received by his enemies is nothing compared to the torment he bears from an angel with lavender eyes.
Jennifer left England full of a young girl’s fantasies of romance and adventure. When she cares for a near death captain, memories emerge of the family she left behind. Will the passion they share be enough? He must choose – her or revenge.
RJS: Awesome! Now, let’s get chatty shall we? Can you tell us about you and your book?
SW: Ever since I can remember, I have loved curling up with a book. Finally I retired from my day job!
RJS: Bet that felt sweet? So what is your typical day like now?
SW: My morning usually starts with a cup of Java. If I’m lucky, hubby gets up first and brings me a cup of coffee in bed. Mmmm. What a way to greet the day!
RJS: Oh yeah, absolutely sweet. So you have tons of time to write now, right?
SW: I don’t have to tell any writer how difficult it is to find time to put words to paper, let alone create them in your mind. But I am finding I do not have the abundance of time I thought I would to contribute to my writing.
My neighbor came to my house one day and said, “We see you leave in the morning and you don’t come home. Didn’t you retire?”
RJS: Yes, to a curious neighbor, that could be suspicious. So what gives?
SW: Between soccer games, football games and cheerleading, I’m keeping the road hot. And I am blessed to have more time with my mother.
The early hours could be anything from a lazy, relaxing, take time to dress morning—to a set the alarm, get my granddaughter to school or take mom to the doctor morning. Then there are the mornings of anticipation where I head to my laptop for a few precious moments of picking my brain. I fully expect to see smoke one of these days.
RJS: Actually, I do see some smoke. So I’m guessing no rocking chairs in your retirement?
SW: I love to have fun. My hubby is so silly. And his playfulness has rubbed off on me. Anything can come out of my mouth sometimes, just for fun. I’ll say things that don’t make sense, have people raising their eyebrows, or just busting out with laughter. And, at my age I still love rollercoasters. Where the heck is the top of this thing?
One of the things I looked forward to was spending more time with hubby. Cruising in our 1969 Mustang convertible is just one of the perks. And my day is not complete without a kiss from my hubby goodnight.
RJS: Now that is just plain sweet. The stuff a good romance is made of. Surely spending time with hubby inspires some good stuff for writing. What is the most important thing you have taken away from retiring and now writing full time, getting THE TRUE ONE published and having extra time for your family? To encapsulate it in one sentence, what would all that boil down to?
SW: I’m just enjoying life.
RJS: Beautiful. Now, on to your book. Tell us more, please…
SW: I’m thrilled to celebrate my new historical, The True One. This is the thrilling sequel of the One and Only series. Now we find out what happened to Kat’s brother.
RJS: Okay, take it away…
“The True One”
Captain Stephen Radbourn accepts an intriguing proposition which results in horror. His ship in splinters and his men captured, he is a broken man. A band of rebels rescue their leader from a dungeon, taking the near dead captain with them. Fearing capture and thinking the tortured man will die, they leave Stephen in the care of a woman, who he believes is an angel of mercy. A man of passion, with a trail of satisfied maidens to prove it, he finds his heart captured by the lovely widow. But she forces him to choose—her or revenge.
Jennifer Faircloth departed England full of a young girl’s fantasies of romance and adventure. Her young husband dies leaving her a widow to survive alone in a foreign land. When a near death English captain is dropped at her door, memories emerge of the family she foolishly left behind. While caring for him, her curious imagination turns to an overwhelming awareness she cannot deny. He must flee for his life and he takes her with him—back to England—back to the family she’d deserted. She wants her family to forgive her, but she wants Stephen’s love even more.
RJS: Now that just begs to be read. I can’t wait to get my copy. To find Samanthya, please visit her website here: http://www.samanthyawyatt.com
In the meantime, please enjoy an excerpt from The True One:
He was dead.
He had to be. For serenity enclosed him. Fresh air cloaked him. A cloud of softness wrapped him. Comfort would mean he’d gone to heaven, when he had been destined for hell. Slowly, Stephen became aware of soreness, then stinging, then blinding pain. Sure signs of hell.
The lilting voice of an angel drew him to an unbelievable place of calm. The honeyed sound soothed his mind to a state of ease. Alleviating his anxiety. Diminishing his pain. The most enchanting dream he’d ever held.
He opened his eyes with excruciating sluggishness. The first glimpse of light splintered his skull with a sharp stabbing. He slammed his eyes closed with a long groan. He’d been denied sunlight for so long, he thought never to see the light of day again.
His insides still stuck to his backbone. He breathed as deeply as his broken ribs allowed, then grounded his teeth over the agonizing ache. Slashing pain shot through his jaw stirring more memories. Oh yes. That had been broken too.
A bed? He took a moment to grasp his surroundings. Unfamiliar hands. Gentle hands. He thought he’d felt movement at one time, dreamed he was in a wagon.
Flashes of torture penetrated his skull—men with curved knives and jeweled handles, shackles, a pit for a prison cell. He struggled with the bonds squeezing him when the sweetest sound of an angel pulled him from the dark fog. Reassuring hands swabbed a wet cloth over his feverish skin and coaxed him to swallow. Blessed relief to his parched lips. Now he lolled in a bed.
With a sense of unease he pondered his situation, wondering what state of play brought him to this consequence. He inhaled, taking in pleasant air. No stench. No slimy creatures. Where was he? At this point he didn’t care. As long as he no longer suffered the Raj’s torture.
Slowly, and more cautious this time, he lifted one lid to a narrow slit. The swelling around his eye had gone down considerably. He glanced down to find a hand-sewn quilt, like the ones his mother made. Definitely a bed. Which also resembled his English heritage. Had he somehow been transported back to England?
He rolled his head against the pillow’s softness. His mind wandered restlessly through a mirage of shadows. His ribs were on fire. He searched the room. A window stood open and the thin covering wavered as if the wind blew gently to make it dance. A crude piece of furniture beyond the bed with items scattered about. To the right a door. He wondered who was on the other side. Friend or adversary? He closed his eyes for a moment, seeking relief. Ignoring the pain in his skull, he turned his head to the right and saw the delicate creature in his dream. An angel of mercy, with dark hair falling about her shoulders. Long sweeping lashes brushed velvety cheeks. Instant awareness surged through his body. At least the devils hadn’t killed that part of him.
On the heels of that thought, he wondered if she were a maid or the wife of some possessive husband. If she were his wife—perish the thought—he would never leave her alone in any room with a strange man, incapacitated or no. Especially not in close proximity of a bed.
And he was naked. Bare as a new baby’s bottom.
Thank you, Samanthya for joining me today! I wish you best luck with your new book.
The True One’s link: http://amzn.to/1uSAlFl
Samanthya Wyatt is also on facebook, goodreads and amazon.
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