Whisper of Yesterday by Julie A. D’Arcy #PNRThursday

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Today’s featured book is Whisper of Yesterday by Julie A. D’Arcy for the #PNRThursday tour.

whisper of yesterday coverWhisper of Yesterday
Julie A. D’Arcy

Publisher–iHeart Publishing
Genre–Paranormal, Ghost, Historical, witchcraft, Sensual Romance

BLURB:

A cry for help, echoing through the ages, inspires a young nobleman to rewrite history– and rediscover a passion he had only dreamt of…

Cole d’Morgan is contacted by a lawyer telling him he has been left a castle in Cornwall, but to inherit he must arrive at Castle Thornwood on All-Hallows-Eve.

As he pulls his car to a halt at the castle gates he sees a beautiful red-haired woman clutching the bars in the rain. However, before he can climb from his car she vanishes into the night.

On arriving at the Castle he is told the tragic tale of Aidan and Alyssa d’Morgan … A love story that spans three hundred years.

Alyssa d’Morgan burned as a witch for refusing to wed her dead husband’s father in 1644 haunts the castle where she was put to death. She has sworn she will not rest until she is reunited with her husband and soul mate, Cai.

Aidan d’Morgan, re-incarnated soul of Cai d’Morgan is reborn in the 1800’s and wins back Castle Thornwood on the turn of a card.

On entering the castle he cannot shake the feeling he is being watched, and soon learns that the castle is haunted by a beautiful red-haired woman who speaks to him in his dreams. However, these are not simply dreams, but a past life, which he is forced to revisit in order to find an answer to an age old curse…

What transpires is an interwoven tale of chilling betrayal and a haunting love story that traverses three centuries…

Buy Links:
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/578942
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com.au/Whisper-Yesterday-Julie-DArcy-ebook/dp/B015NE5LZG/
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/whisper-of-yesterday
Print Book: https://www.createspace.com/5753201

Excerpt:

Aidan stared down into the courtyard. All was darkness. Nothing moved. Not a night creature called. He swung to face into the room. It was lit by only the faintest of moonlight and a low-burning fire.

It had to have been a dream.

Naked; the breeze was cold, but sweat still trickled down his back. He stared down at his hands. They trembled. “It was a dream.” If he repeated the words emphatically enough, perhaps he would believe them.

He ran a hand through his hair. He had been in Cai de Morgan’s body. He had seen what he had seen, done what he had done, and thought what he had thought. It was as if he was a spectator in another time and all had been beyond his control. Yet as incredible as it was, he had been there. And who was Cai de Morgan? What was the man to him? And more so, who was the woman? Why did she remind him so much of the woman in the fire? Countess Llewellyn, the woman who supposed to haunt this castle?

He strode to the dresser, lit a candle, and crossed to the large freestanding mirror in the corner. Critically, he viewed his features. Was it his imagination, or was there the slightest hint of another image superimposed over his own? Did the face look more angular, the jaw harder? He held the candle closer to the glass, and a chill prickled the back of his neck. The hair on the man in the mirror waved and curled past his shoulders, and there standing behind him was a woman. A woman with a riot of deep red hair, brilliant emerald eyes, full lips, and fine brows—a woman with the face of an angel—the woman in his dream. His hand tightened on the candlestick. It felt as if it were frozen; his fingers glued and could not be uncurled.

She no longer wore the yellow gown and headdress, but instead the white shift she had worn the first night he had seen her amidst the fire in the courtyard.

Their eyes met and held in the reflection.

He swallowed, trying to free up his throat, trying to force words that would not come. As he watched, she drifted closer, yet no step could he hear on the polished wooden floor.

“Who are you?” he managed at last, his words a strained whisper. He twisted around. She vanished. He swung back and stared into the mirror. She stood behind him with a look of accusation in her green eyes. It was as if he was a moth and she pinned him with her diamond bright gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I had to be certain.” He spoke quietly, afraid to raise his voice least she disappear. “Will not you speak to me? Will not you tell me your name?”

She opened her mouth, and just a soft sound issued forth, almost a sigh, as if it was coming from a long distance. “Cai.”

Cai. Had she said Cai? The man in the dream had been Cai. The man whose body he had inhabited for a short time. Inhabited. The thought disturbed him, but he could think of no other word to describe the happening. Was he going crazy? But no crazier than seeing and talking to a ghost. Again he wondered what Cai de Morgan had to do with him. How Cai was connected to the murdered Countess.

“I have so many questions,” he said, holding her reflection in the mirror.

She moved closer, pressed her warm soft body to the length of his back, and encircled his waist.

His mouth went dry. He couldn’t swallow. He had always thought a ghost would be cold, but he had never felt such heat as that which now filled his body and hastened to pool in his loins at the soft carss of her silken hair and the touch of her hands on his sweat-damp skin.

She leaned her smooth cheek against his shoulder, and his body hardened with desire as she tilted her head to the side to watch him for several painful heartbeats through sooty lashes, her eyes dark, intense, wanting.

Suddenly he swung to seize her, but his hand passed through a draught of cold air. Goose bumps raced up his arm. She was gone, and he cursed himself for a fool. He should have known better than to try to capture something as elusive as an angel…

You can find more about the author and her works here:
Website: www.julieadarcy.com
Blog: www.juliedarcy.weebly.com

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Other authors participating in the tour:

Carmen Stefanescu: http://shadowspastmystery.blogspot.ro/
Daisy Banks: https://daisybanks.wordpress.com/
Flossie Benton Rogers: http://flossiebentonrogers.com/blog/
M. S. Kaye: http://booksbymsk.com/
Kim Kasch: http://www.kimkasch.blogspot.com
Cassandra Ulrich: http://cassandraulrich.blogspot.com/
Julie Dárcy: http://juliedarcystoryweaver.blogspot.com.au/
Margo Bond Collins: http://www.MargoBondCollins.com
Adrienne Woods: https://woodsadrienne.wordpress.com/
N. N. Light: http://princessofthelight.wordpress.com
Penny Estelle: http://www.pennyestelle.blogspot.com

Night Rider by Dee Ann Palmer – #Free On Amazon 11/16 Through 11/20

Dee Ann Palmer’s steamy short story, Night Rider, is free on Amazon through Nov. 20.

Night Rider coverBeware the stranger who comes riding in the night.

He’s an irresistible, powerful ranchero, destined to marry a woman of Californian or Mexican nobility. She’s just a foreigner he hired to care for a frail aunt. When they label her a loose woman, she secretly leaves the rancho for good one night.

Free on Amazon from 11/16 to 11/20.

EXCERPT

The thunder and lightning roared off into the distance, leaving only darkness and the sound of rain beating against the adobe walls of the hacienda.

Outside Jenny Dalton’s bedroom door, hammering and shouts intensified until they rose above the angry night sounds and finally wakened her. Heart pounding, for no one would have summoned her unless it were an emergency, she fought against sleep and stumbled out of bed. Pushing long curls of caramel-and-cream colored hair out of her face, she grabbed her wrapper. The door, swollen from the damp, creaked as she struggled to pull it open.

Don Soltero leaned against the door jamb. In the light cast by the oil lamp he held, she could see his wet hair, usually a sandy brown, looked dark and was plastered against his head. Rivulets of water from it ran down his forehead and cheeks, and he had trouble focusing his eyes. His poncho dripped black puddles against the sienna tiles of the floor.

“Stampede. Searched everywhere…my cousin. Lost.”

Fear chilled Jenny’s heart. She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her gasp. “Don Rafael is lost?”

“In the foothills. Dead, I think.” Soltero swayed.

Paralyzed with shock for a moment, Jenny finally moved, calling for a servant. “Juan! Come quickly!”

Taking the lamp from the exhausted Soltero’s hand, she steadied him until the servant arrived, trying to avoid breathing in the smell of mud from his boots. Even as the servant approached, Jenny noticed Soltero’s gaze wandering up and down her body in a way that made her pull her wrapper closer. Even in a crisis you can’t help but ogle a woman.

It was not a trait she admired in him.

Juan arrived to assist him, and Jenny closed the door to her room. As she threw on her warmest clothes to find him, the idea of the death of Rafael Raul Miguel Allende, Don del Rancho Simi, assaulted her senses. It couldn’t be. She would not let it be. It didn’t matter that she was only a gringa hired as companion to Lucita Allende, the frail aunt of the Allende cousins, Jenny loved this man who had hired her. Had loved him almost from the first moment she’d seen him only months ago.

And had hidden all signs of her feelings…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In every age, the heart loves, and Dee Ann Palmer’s romances over the past twelve years have reflected those eras in contemporary, historic and fantasy tales. Palmer is a member of Sisters in Crime and Romance Writers of America’s PAN group. She’s married to her college sweetheart, and they live in beautiful southern California in easy reach of mountains, desert and beaches.

Night Rider began its life as an erotic short story called Dark Stranger, written under a pseudonym, and was a winner in the 2004 Amber Heat Wave Contest sponsored by Amber Quill Press. Palmer recently regained the rights, changed the eroticism to sensual, and has indie published it under her own name. Note: Since this is a short story, the full first chapter of Christiana’s Choice, Palmer’s medieval romance novel, is included.

Dee Ann’s Website: http://deeannpalmer.com

Blog http://deeannpalmer.blogspot.com

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/AuthorDeeAnnPalmer