Before the medieval age around the time of 3200 B.C., it is said the Tuatha De' Danann(the ancient gods and goddesses of Irlenad) built a burial place for the great king Dagda Mo'r. Newgrange, a megalithic mound was erected near the Boyne Valley in Ireland is thought to have taken over twenty years to build and has been called everything from a burial site and gathering place for tribes, to a the site of the home of the goddess of love, Oenghus. It is said to be hundreds of years older than the Great Pyramid in Egypt and at least 1000 years older than Stonehenge.
The neolithic farmers of that day relied on the change of seasons--planning their lives and their crops around the changes, offering fertility rites, prayers and offerings, scarifices and fire festivals at these designated gathering places. Precisely built, its measurements and intricate carvings have not changed over thousands of years.
On the dawn of Winter's Solstice, the light of the rising sun enters what is called the "roofbox" penetrating the passage, illuminating the chamber floor until it reaches the inner room. The entire process takes no more than 14-17 minutes to achieve. What makes this event even more interesting is one theory which states it was built as a symbol of the god of the light penetrating the womb of the mother earth--ensuring new life in a few months time. Sort of gives the shortness of time from start to finsih a whole new conotation, doesn't it?;)
Regardless, it is considered a sacred place, where gods and goddesses were worshipped and where seasons, time, and astronomy were defined by those who relied on the earth as we would rely on our watches and IPhones.
In the prologue for WINTERS DESIRE, we used the image of our druid priestess and her wounded Viking warrior as the setting for their secret forbidden affair.
On the dawn of Winter's Solstice, after her lover has healed and leaves her, saying they can never be together, she steps out into the moring light and arms raised, offers a prayer to the gods and goddesses above that he would one day return. Her chant is caught on the winter wind and becomes a legend that possesses undying magical power--revived in the secret wishes of the human heart...
In WINTER AWAKENING, Sabeline the headstrong only daughter of a Welsh king who by agreement has become a prince in order to have the protection from the King of England. To further the strength of his alliance and secure more lands and armies for England he orders one of his Marcher lords to marry the young princess. In the event that anything happens to her father, she would inherit not only her father's land, but her mother's as well as the armies and entitlements of both parents. Invited to the kings court one summer to meet her betrothed, Sabeline discovers all too quickly that her intended has little interest in her and more interest in buxom serving wench.
Rescued from certain humailation, she finds herself in teh arms of Sir Ranulf, her intended's older and wiser mentor and friend, who comforts her in an older brother fashion. But her heart is smitten with Sir Ranulf, despite his attempts to sway her otherwise and his honorable rejection of her awkward advances gives her hope in the years that follow that he will have considerable influence on her intended, Sir Benedict.
Alas, Benedict has only grown more unscrupulous and Sir Ranulf more handsome and charming. She is torn between duty to her father and the secret desires of her heart, until a druid seer shows her an ancient chant born of the magic of winter's solstice that could change the course of her life if she has the courage to follow it through.
This scene is the summer at court, where Sabeline and Sir Ranulf meet for the first time, after her betrothed declines to dance and Ranulf steps in saving face for the young princess. It will be several years before they meet again. Here they are conversing about the needs of men verses the needs of women.
Winter Awakening
“I see, so while you believe the union of a man and woman is a sacred act, you would agree it permissible to enjoy the benefit of the union, but forsake the commitment of marriage. For I assume, milord, a virile man such as you does not practice celibacy?”
I blinked as I held her questioning gaze and wondered how in the devil we got into this conversation. Concerned that others might hear and misunderstand, I steered her gently out onto the flagstone terrace outside the great hall. With the music still playing too loud to speak, I guided her carefully down the stone steps that lead to the castle garden. At the bottom, I turned to face her and blurted a candid warning.
“Lady Sabeline, please forgive me, but I do not find these questions proper for one who is not your intended.” I took a deep breath and cast a glance to the sky, taking a second look as I appreciated the vast clear summer sky awash with stars. There, I had settled my tension. I looked at her with a congenial smile.
Her brows rose. “Then it is all well and good that we understand that my intended has his needs and thus is purely within his rights to appease them without quarrel?”
I sighed as I paced back and forth in front of her. She had a point perhaps, but a true lady could not afford to take such liberties as did a man. “It is not the way it is done,” I stated as plainly as I could praying that the conversation would no go further. Having to stand alone with her too long beneath a moonlit sky caused me unease. After all, it had been a long time since I had held a woman in my arms, tasted the pliant sweetness of a woman’s mouth.
“Then perhaps the way it is done should be revisited, milord. For in truth, are not a woman’s needs as great as a man’s?”
Oh, great goddess in heaven! This was far more than I was prepared for. I started past her up the steps, hoping she took well my meaning. It was far too dangerous, this conversation about unions. "Excuse me, I must get back to the banquet hall.”
“Are we finished then, milord, because you say that it is so?”
She turned to look up at me with a defiant look, her chin held high. I was going to regret going back down those stairs to meet her face-to-face. “Despite your age—“
“I am a grown woman, Sir Ranulf.” She leveled me a look that I should have seen as warning. “Old by English standards of marriage,” she added dryly.
“It is well known that a lady is able to control her needs. It is, by nature’s design that a man cannot. It has been determined that it can affect even a man’s health.”
She looked at me with a startled expression, a smile lifting from the corner of the mouth. “And how is your health, Sir Ranulf?”
My gaze rested on her mouth, the same one that had tempted me from the moment we met. I realized she was teasing me. She began to laugh.
I glanced to the top of the stairs, hoping that no one heard her laughter and question why she and I were out here alone. My concerns unfounded, there was no one in sight. We were quite alone and I was no more comfortable with the wicked thoughts skating at the edge of my brain.
“I do not know, Sir Ranulf,” she said, “which I find more amusing. The fact that men cannot control their desires or that you truly believe that a woman should.”
I had the foolish wish that she might act upon her current need—or mine. But to risk getting caught would by certainty ruin her reputation. Still, I could not help but poke back at her with a harmless challenge of my own. “Are you saying, milady, that you have no wish to control your desires?”
Her laughter waned as I stared at her. Just one kiss to purge the curiosity of showing her the passion of a grown man, not one who had no idea of the prize he was being given. Somehow I found justification, shallow though it was, to appease my desire.
I took her face in my hands and brought my mouth to her lips, intent on taking a quick taste, but one was not enough, so I took another. I was lost in the sweetness of her sigh, how she trembled when I touched her. I urgently stepped away, pushing my hands through my hair to keep from touching her again.
She licked her lips as she met my confused gaze.
“My apologies,” I stated. “I lost control of my emotions for a moment.”
“Shall I no longer be a lady in your eyes, milord, if I were to admit my desire for you?” she whispered, her finger brushing over my lower lip.
“Sabeline, I am old enough to be—“
She lifted to her toes and kissed me fully, her soft hands cupping my face.
“This cannot be.” I lowered my head, seeking every grain of nobleness in me. But my mind warred with my need to have her, to take her into the garden shadows and give her that which she claimed to want.
“But what of my desire?” she asked as her hand slid between us, stroking the length hardening even now beneath my breeches. Her mouth teased mine. It was then that I realized this was a game to her. I caught her hands, holding them between mine.
“You are young yet and do not fully understand the power of your desire.” I swallowed hard as I stepped away from her. “Excuse me, milady.” I headed back to the banquet.
“Milord, when will you be old enough to understand yours?” she called after me.
More excerpts to come ! I'd like to hear what your favorite winter tradition is! Leave a comment and be entered to win an autographed coverflat of Winters Desire and a Celtic Spice sport bottle! And coming up tomorrow--the fantabulous gifts including the Gods of Football "Naked for a Cause" calendar! Pics you'll want to enjoy long after the year has passed;))
Amanda
Showing posts with label amanda mcintyre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amanda mcintyre. Show all posts
Monday, November 2, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Free Read! Just in time for Samhain....
A little vampyre story to...um, warm your blood...
Based on a description from BUILD A HERO during my TORTURED blog tour-this story was inspired based on Leontine's R.'s fabulous hero description, using her name as my heroine and the hero's description--this short story is what came to mind...UNFORGETTABLE.
If you missed it the first time--you can read it again this week at her blog of 'hawtness" Leontine's Book Realm. My thanks to Leontine for her great art work in creating the perfect image of these two!
Based on a description from BUILD A HERO during my TORTURED blog tour-this story was inspired based on Leontine's R.'s fabulous hero description, using her name as my heroine and the hero's description--this short story is what came to mind...UNFORGETTABLE.
If you missed it the first time--you can read it again this week at her blog of 'hawtness" Leontine's Book Realm. My thanks to Leontine for her great art work in creating the perfect image of these two!
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thank you!

My thanks to all of you for stopping by my tour stops;) Many of you journeyed right up to the end with me and I appreciate that! I met some wonderful folks, shared some fun stuff, and saw some pretty classy Internet diggs!! Oh, and I can't forget the number of books I gave away! (Nor does my postal person!lol)
My thanks to the LIT ladies and Lord CM,for allowing me to post my daily updates/winners.
The LIT manor has some wonderful guests coming your way, and a special celebration to kick-off the release of our first Celtic Spice anthology, WINTERS DESIRE!
Watch for the deets here at the LIT Manor. Oh, btw, I've been taking pictures around the manor these past few months-some cleverly done through keyholes!;))
I hope that our "scenic tour of the LIT Manor" slide show will be a part of the end of October celebration.
Back to work-vacay is over!
Amanda
Friday, August 7, 2009
Days two TORTURED tour winner

Winner at The Romance Club:
booklover1335
Congrats and please email me at amanda@amandamcintyre.net to claim your book!
Daily tour winners will be posted here unless we have a guest. In that event, post will show the following day. Regular blogging will continue so you will need to watch close. Winners are announced at each blog on the tour as well.
Next stop:
Novel Thoughts-Aug. 7
See you on the road!
Amanda
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Tuesday, August 4, 2009
25 Blogs in 25 Days..the TORTURED tour!"

August 4, 2009
Day one of my blog tour~
I begin as we all do from home. The LIT manor was built from pure inspiration. We were three historical writers who could not at one time, find a home for those who amp up the steam a bit in their historical writing. Charlotte and I were already writing for Harlequin Spice and I knew Kristi from working with her through the RT (Romantic Times) convention Genre program. (She is my Historical captain and a brilliant one to boot!) We were soon able to convert her to the steamier side of historical writing and soon she discovered not only is she good at it, but enjoys it as well!
So it began, with fertile minds, an enthusiasm unleashed, and a goal to create a place where readers and authors could settle in and chat together about any number of subjects including, but not limited to, hot, sweaty, heart-pounding historicals!
We then decided that we needed a male figure…a manor "mascot" so to speak,(heavens , don't tell him that!) who could keep his eye on things when we were away, interject his male viewpoint now and again, and basically serve as balance to the three females living in the manor! He’d have to be breathtakingly handsome (of course!) a bit irreverent, confident, flexible (yes, physically and attitudinally) let’s see…available for all types of research, able to carry on a conversation with many types of people (though women are his favorite guests) dabble in the culinary arts, sharp dresser, and have knowledge of history. The fact that Lord Craven Moore (dubbed by a reader most eloquently) has a particular passion (and expertise) for women came as an added bonus. He keeps us in balance, offers himself at all hours, and has a smile that will melt the flesh right off your bones.
Note: Never underestimate the power of three fertile author minds;)) Taking the perfect fantasy male from each of us—we breathed life into Lord Craven-Moore. It is a good thing that he is fictional, or else we’d all be in trouble, I think.
I hope some of you will be able to come along on my journey across the Internet highways and by-ways, as I visit some very interesting sites along the way!
I will be giving away a copy of TORTURED at every stop chosen at random from those who leave a comment!
So tell me what fun place have you visited this summer?

I’ll also be blogging about my true-life 19-day road trip I took recently! Next stop-August 5- EYE ON ROMANCE! (*see the full schedule below)
See you on the road!
Amanda
“25 BLOGS in 25 DAYS…the TORTURED tour!”
http://www.lustintime.blogspot.com -- August 4
http://www.theromancebookclub.com -- August 5
http://www.cheekyreads.blogspot.com -- August 6
http://www.novethoughts.wordpress.com -- August 7
http://www.mechelearmstrong.blogspot.com -- August 8-9 http://www.CoffeetimeRomance.com/CoffeeThoughts -- August 10
http://www.lustintime.blogspot.com -- August 11
http://www.blogtalkradio.com -- August 11 7:30* PM
http://www.NightOwlRomance.blogspot.com -- August 12
http://www.RTBookreviews.com/2009 -- August 13
http://unusualhistoricals.blogspot.com--Aug. 13 (excerpt)NEW*
http://www.theromancestudio.com -- August 14
http://www.faerycourt.com/faeryblog -- August 15
http://unusualhistoricals.blogspot.com--August 16 (Interview)NEW*
http://www.myspace.com/amandamcintyre -- August 17
http://www.freshfiction.com/blog -- August 18
http://www.Caridad.com/blog -- August 19
http://loveisanexplodingcigar.com -- August 20
http://www.GenelladeGrey.wordpress.com -- August 21
http://www.mcintyreshouseofmuse.blogspot.com -- August 22-23
http://www.myspace.com/SpiceBriefs -- August 24
http://www.bethciotta.blogspot.com -- August 25
http://www.emilybryan.blogspot.com -- August 26
http://www.RomanceBookWyrm.blogspot.com -- August 17
http://thechatelianes.blogspot.com -- August 28
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Friday, May 29, 2009
Brenda Novak's Auction for Juvenile Diabetes

Just a reminder that I have a lovely Victorian suitcase filled with wonderful treasures that is being auctioned off for a very good cause over at Brenda Novak's online auction for this very worthy cause!
She has some special auctions and great bargains as well! For writers, readers and all who would like to aid in this monumental outpouring.
Here is the link: Amanda's Victorian Treasures
Go take a peek & thanks!
Amanda
Thursday, April 9, 2009
TORTURED available now for pre-order

I am excited to announce that TORTURED, my dark ages medieval is now available for Pre-order at Barnes & Noble.com and Amazon.com. There is a discount now if you preorder!! Further fun-- and if you check my news page at www.amandamcintyre.net , you'll see my new "Quarterly "Love to Read" Contest featuring a gift card from BN.com this time around!
Yay! Kristi is a techy wiz! Pictures are back at the manor!!
Let me know what you think!
Amanda
Tortured
Trade paperback
featuring Sierra, Dryston
Publisher: Spice
Pub. Date: August 01, 2009
ISBN-13: 9780373605330
384pp
True to its name, this book is a complex story with all the intrigue, passion, romance, and angst, not to mention a rough and tumble journey to that coveted HEA.
I hardly ever take the direct route;) So, finally, posted here first at the LIT manor,--an exclusive preview excerpt from Tortured.
Excerpt:
Sierra’s eyes were riveted to the Roman’s face, his sturdy jaw clenched as he endured without a sound, the pain to his body. With an exasperated sigh, Balrogan tossed the torch into the pit.
“I will have to think of something else, milord. He is stubborn this one.”
Lord Aeglech stared at the prisoner a moment, before he raised his hand. “Take him down,” he barked, “and bring him to me.”
The Saxon king breezed by her with his guards close behind. He glanced back before ascending the narrow stairs.
“I will have need of you, wealh. You know what to do.”
“Aye, milord.” She lowered her gaze to the floor. Sierra’s body trembled at the thought of seducing this man. She feared his power over her emotions she thought long ago dead. Carefully, she reached up and swung the cage.

“Be watchful of that one, mouse, he may spit poison.” The executioner chuckled as he prepared his next device. “We’ll see first if this will persuade him to speak." He raised a handcrafted piece that can slowly sever a man’s fingers one at a time.
The Roman’s expression remained unchanged as he stared at Sierra from his bat-like position. His face was not that of a farmer, or peasant, not as she was used to seeing. He had a warriors face, proud, rugged, stoic. His eyes, though shadowed from the torture, shone with silent strength. Her gaze drifted to the tight line of his mouth, pursed with determination. A mouth she ventured could command an army as well as command a woman in bed. For no reason that she could think of, she spoke aloud. “Lord Aeglech would not want to be kept waiting.” She imagined she saw a glint of challenge behind the prisoner's turbulent eyes. He was different, strong, unafraid, her vision of a true warrior. Most men, when faced with Balrogan’s forms of persuasion were eager to offer information and, so too, beg for mercy in the process. In three days, this Roman had been through numerous forms of torture without once having wavered. There was nothing innocent about him, only a powerful resilience seething beneath a warrior’s body. A power she was dangerously drawn to.
Balrogan offered a muffled sound under his breath. “Perhaps you are right. He should be intact for whatever the king has in mind for him.”
Since the Roman’s arrival, Lord Aeglech had received confirmation that the Roman-Briton, General Ambrosis and his army were traveling from Rome into the provinces just north of the Saxon stronghold. Given Aeglech’s paranoia, combined with the seeds she had managed to plant thus far in his mind, it was clear that he was preparing himself for a confrontation. Still, Sierra believed that the Saxon king was bored with the pillaging and conquest of common folk. She believed that he longed for an opponent worthy of a good fight. Perhaps that was why he had not yet ordered the death of the Roman prisoner.
A creak of the cage jarred Sierra from her thoughts. The Roman’s gaze met hers and a shiver skittered up her spine. The image of him with the woman appeared in her mind and she I instinctively took a step back. This time she did not imagine seeing the corner of his mouth curve into a wicked smirk. Sierra swallowed a pang of pure desire as she sensed that he was able to look deep inside her, as if reading her thoughts.
“I am on my way to the buttery,” she said to Balrogan, unable to break from the prisoners captivating stare.
“See if the blacksmith is finished with my blades, Mouse,” Balrogan ordered without looking up. Years of having her around to do his bidding made the request easy.
She glanced at the guard who maintained his post at the dungeon entrance. “Aye, milord.” Tearing her eyes from the Roman, she hurried out, taking the steps with care as she held up the hem of her gown. The image of the woman's face as the Roman pleasured her taunted Sierra. Her sighs burned in Sierra’s memory, the sight of her back arched, knees spread, her fingers digging into the Roman's dark hair.
Never had she experienced what she sensed in that Celtic woman’s soul and it both frightened and intrigued her. And ever since she tasted its imagery, her hunger for the same elation grew. The woman in Sierra’s mind wore a look of joy on her face that she do not understand. More disturbing, perhaps, was that it made her realize that her life had become as cold and inhuman as Lord Aeglech.
At the top of the stair, she heard an anguished male cry rise from the room below. Apparently, Balrogan had changed his mind about letting the Roman keep all of his fingers.
Amanda
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