Category Archives: #Teaser_Tuesday

Shamus O’Neill | #TeaserTuesday

This month my romances Searching for Sara and My Fair Princess are on sale for 99 cents on Kindle, Nook, and all formats at If you follow the link on the book image below, it will send you to the Book Page and all the eBook purchase links.

‘My Fair Princess’, fantasy romance.

my fair princess“Shamus?”

He glanced up at her. “Hm?”

“Why did you want to be mayor of O’Neill?” Shamus swiped up another blade of grass. As Nia noticed before, he didn’t look the least bit comfortable talking about himself. “I truly want to know. It is an amazing responsibility, and you have done such wonderful things.”

He cleared his throat again, ears reddening so completely she considered dousing him with water. Nia couldn’t understand why he exhibited such an apparent reluctance to speak of this accomplishment.

“I, erm. . . .” Shamus tossed away the grass, though he immediately plucked another. “These are good people,” he said, so quiet that Nia strained to hear him. “I wanted them to have a better life than what they’d had.”

“At the age of twenty? Weren’t you still learning from your father?”

“The O’Neill’s put us on our own early,” he confessed with a quick glance her direction. “I’d basically been responsible for father’s ranch since I was twelve.”

“Heavens! At so young an age?”

Shamus’s shoulders lifted. “It taught me a lot of things.”

“But did you have the chance to be a child?”

“Sure. After chores and before bed.” He peeked at her. “I didn’t mind all that much.”

“With such responsibilities, how did you remain so . . . so . . . kindhearted?”

He laughed. “Responsibilities don’t make a person mean. That’s a choice.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right.” She held his gaze until his retreated. “So, you wanted to be completely independent then? Was that why you became mayor? To prove something to your family even?”

Shamus blinked at her. “Prove something?”

“I believe you wanted to prove O’Neill could be successful without using fear.”

He held her gaze for such a long moment she felt certain he wanted to speak . . . and then his gaze dropped to the grass teased by her single finger.

Nia smiled. “I am proud of you, Shamus O’Neill.” She clasped his hand, stroking it with her thumb. “It takes courage to stand up to a tradition, and not many people want to be bothered with such. Good for you.”

“I would’ve done it sooner if I knew I’d have got you for a wife.”

“Shamus O’Neill,” she laughed, “you speak such sweet talk.”

He continued to smile at her, and a flow of warmth advanced to her cheeks with a touch of surprise. She liked his attention. In fact, his eagerness to bestow it made her feel . . . relief. Foolish, really, as she should not have doubted a growing friendship. From the moment she met him there had been a connection. Much as she and Dray when they first met—

Shamus lowered his focus to their clasped hands, his features somewhat taut. She gave his hand a squeeze. “Why, Shay, what is wrong?”

“Nothing. I just . . .” He cleared away the roughness in his voice. “Can I kiss your hand?”

Nia’s mouth gaped. Men generally helped themselves, much as any person voluntarily pet a dog or cat. She intercepted his hesitant glance. “Yes, Shay. Yes, you can.”

The kiss was feather-light, the caress of lips upon hand causing a tingle from toe to wingtip. Nia smiled at him, enjoying the soft stroke of his thumb. Yes. She liked Shamus O’Neill very much. It would be easy to care deeply for him when he treated her with such deference.

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#teasertuesday | Searching for Sara

Searching for Sara | Heart of the Blessed, #1

Today is another Teaser Tuesday from my first inspirational romance, Searching for Sara, as it travels around the ‘net on a Book Launch Blog Tour.

About the Book

Sara Little has ached to live in America. But being born of a single mother in London’s working class, she could only dream. Then, scrawled in hasty intensity, Sara receives an invitation to America. Drawn to the possibility of a new beginning, she follows God’s whisper and steps forward into the unknown. But more awaits than the realization of her dreams.

Sara’s benefactor is handsome widower Christopher Lake, a philanthropist dedicated to helping the less fortunate redefine their future. Though devastated by the loss of his wife, he dedicates himself to her last request: To provide Sara the means for a brighter future.


Sara’s first public display of her charcoal and pencil sketches is a success. Now,  in answer to her request, Christopher is about to give Sara her first lesson in the watercolor medium.

“Dix, why don’t you warm your attitude with a cup of Emily’s special roast while I introduce Sara to her work-station. Take your time. I’m sure my student won’t miss you.”

Something different shined in his expression, something Sara didn’t remember seeing before. “I canno’ thank you enough for offering.” Each word tumbled over itself, her insides fluttering with nervous exhilaration. “I do no’ care how difficult, I will do my best, and do all my studies, and read whatever you want for me to read. I just want to paint as well as you do.”

A smile teased his lips. “I see.”

“Your sister had herself a miniature you painted of yourself for one of your classes at the college. And Mr. Paul? He had a watercolor of Monument Avenue you done and did no’ care for. They showed them to me yesterday when I balked whether or not I wanted to come.”

Christopher’s hazel eyes twinkled down at her, arms crossed as he nodded along with her statements.

“Not that I did no’ think you wonderfully talented. I know you are – I have a feeling on things like that – but will I be a very good student? I have no’ been a student before, and I did no’ want to annoy you with silly mistakes that even Gwyn would no’ do. But then your sister and Mr. Paul said that it’s fine for students to make mistakes.”

He laughed. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated. Let us put it to good use.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah ah. I might be your instructor, but rules remain the same.” He motioned to the easel and paper, directing her focus with a hand on her shoulder. “This is an experimental area for right now. I only need you to do simple brush strokes with the different styles of brushes so that you can get your fingers, hands, and wrists familiar with their feel. Then we’ll add some paints so you can get accustomed to the friction of paint, brush, and paper.”

Sara nodded, eyes wide.

“Now.” He retrieved one of the small brushes from the easel’s tray. “These are made of horse hair, so they’re a bit firm, but not so much as to give you much of a fight. The larger ones are of the more coarse hair, for texture and backgrounds and the like. Here. Try this.”

Sara took it from him, hesitant, her eyes focused on the dark brown of the bristles.

Christopher chuckled. “No need to be fearful, my dear. Tickle the paper a few times.”

Her uncertain expression melted to a smile as she focused to the blank piece of paper. Once she felt and heard the first cautious swish, she retreated.

“No fear, Sara.” He covered her hand with his and guided a few more certain strokes across the paper. When his hand enveloped hers yet again, Sara blinked at the touch. “Note how the grain of the paper effects the bristles? Let us try another brush. One more firm.” He released her long enough to gather one of the larger brushes.

“Do you feel the added resistance?”

Sara nodded, wide eyes unable to look away from their shared touch. She tilted her head.

“Question?” Christopher released his hold, leaving a lingering warmth and impression of a gentle grip.

“Not just yet.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought back—

“Then let’s give something a try.”

Sara blinked and turned to look at him. His handsome face seemed brighter as he gathered a watercolor palette. Then he adjusted a small cup of water in the tray of the easel and met her gaze, his hazel eyes clear of any shadow. He helped position the palette within her hands, directing fingers and holds alike, and turned her again to face the easel.

Christopher directed her brush to the cup of water. “The trick with watercolors, in my opinion, is to use the water itself to manipulate the clarity or vagueness of the paint. It all depends upon the mood you wish to convey.” He guided Sara’s hand and the brush along the paper with gentle strokes, the sound much like a whisper for attention.

“Oh. I like that.” Sara continued with the gentle strokes until very little color transferred from brush to paper.

“You like which? The feel or the sound?”

Sara beamed over her left shoulder at him. “Yes.”

He chuckled. “That’s fine then. Now, take stock of what you have there. Only a bit of blue. Is that enough for what you want? Or do you think it needs more?”

Sara looked to the soft and dreamy strokes of blue against white. “I… I do no’ know.”

“Well, let’s continue on.” His warm hold surrounded her hand to direct it to water and then paint. “Then we’ll see what comes about.”

But the picture didn’t become much more than blues and greens, an experiment with a new media and the different types of strokes it offered. Sara allowed herself to be taught, enjoying it more than anything in her life.

Christopher’s patience reminded her of her mother, encouraging her with new things and allowing a retreat to the familiar to make a habit. Neither took notice that Dix never arrived from her retrieval of coffee.


Where Can I Buy Searching for Sara?


Amazon Kindle B&N Nookbook Smashwords Goodreads


Amazon B&N Nona King's eStore

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Teaser Tuesday | To Save A Soul

It’s been a while since I posted something besides my Fiction Friday book reviews. When I remembered today was Teaser Tuesday, imagine my joy! My teaser today is from To Save A Soul, my first paranormal fantasy, which also happens to be the first time I entered (& won) the National Novel Writing Month contest back in 2008. The story is based on an “adventure module” concept from my husband based on a fantasy world of his creation. An extended edition of this novel will be available May of 2013 on the anniversary of its release, with the sequel – Silver and Iron – due out in October of 2013.

About the Book

Para and Mun have traveled the past three years solving other people’s problems while earning a little notoriety and only a bit more coin. On the verge of spending their last silver, they hear the whisper of a bride whom disappeared the eve of her wedding. Tortured by rumors his daughter now haunts the grounds, the bride’s father hires Para and Mun to uncover the truth. One problem: they must do so without tumbling the city into civil war.

About the Scene

Para and Mun are adventurers. Well, mostly they are vagrants whom travel from hamlet to berg to township fulfilling odd jobs and seeking legends and myths that might put a few coins and gems into their pockets. They have been mercenaries, merchant guards, bar-maids, bouncers, and the like all in search of the next adventure. In the following excerpt, they have heard that a wealthy lord is seeking help to solve a mystery, but they don’t yet know if it is a mystery they care to solve or not. So here they are in a berg they have never heard of waiting for the wealthy gentleman to fill them in on what the job might entail….


Para grabbed the arm of a boy doing his best to skirt the pair. “Say, where is Lord Pomeroy’s house?”

To Para’s displeasure the boy directed them to a mansion that gave her a case of the shivers. “For the love of…. Milord Meek, why are the creepy places those places we seem to wander to the most?”

“A law of nature?”

“I don’t doubt it.” She shrugged. “Well, I guess we should get to it before I change my mind and venture elsewhere.”

“There’s treasure to be had here, Par. You wouldn’t leave that behind.”

“If my skin is in danger I might.”

“That isn’t what I saw in the cavern.”

“I was younger then.”

Mun chuckled.

Gesturing toward the mansion, the two made their way through the hustle and bustle with some modicum of diffi­culty. “What do you suppose has everyone in a lather around this place?”

The warrior indicated a sign in the process of being raised.

“Founder’s Day, eh? Haven’t been in a place long enough to see about one of those, have we?”

“Not as of yet, no.”

“We might need to take a turn around to see what’s what before we dive into the wage. That meat dish beckons my name with fervor!”

“I agree.”

Mun stepped up the granite steps to the front porch of the mansion. Para hung back a pace, allowing the warrior the duty of knocking the brass ring in the lion’s mouth. The mas­sive door opened by a maid dressed in the usual drab gray dress with white apron and white mob cap.

She gave the pair a curtsy of greeting. “Your names?”

“I am Para, and this is Munwar. We got word from the tavern master—” She looked to Mun. “Where was it again?” He shrugged. “For the love of… Well, we heard that your lord Pomeroy is seeking some help.”

“Indeed. Will you come this way please?”

“Lead on.”

The maid directed them to a small salon just inside and to the left of the entry. “Wait here, please. I will fetch the master.”

Para nodded with an absent motion, her eyes wide as her gaze swept the room of unique artifacts and furnishings. The maid retreated, closing the door behind her. “Will you look at this, Mun? Do we even have these trees? They look too red.” She gestured to the scallop-back couch of tapestry upholstery and a rich redwood. “I haven’t even heard tell of furnishings like this! How in all that’s holy did the lord get these pieces here? And from where, is what I would like to know! Can you imagine how much these would fetch—”

“Are you a city ranger, Par?” Mun asked in a low tone.

Para’s attention snapped to the warrior. “That’s not fair. I have an appreciation for pretty things.”

“And the coin that goes with them.”

Where you can buy To Save A Soul

eBook – $1.95
Print – $8.95
ISBN: 1-4404-8044-3 / 978-1-4404-8044-7

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