This week, we're pleased to welcome author Jianne Carlo, whose latest novel, THAT PEARLY DROP, takes readers on a journey through time. Join us on Sunday when the author will offer a free copy of That Pearly Drop to a lucky blog visitor. Here's the blurb:
Emma knows time
travel’s impossible. So, the only other explanation for her going to sleep on
Halloween night in 2013 and waking up in Wales in the year 1763 is that she’s
insane. There’s a murdered girl, a coach ticket to Wye Castle, and a letter of
employment to be governess to the Earl of Wye’s daughter. What’s a gal to do
but go with the flow?
Learn more about author Jianne Carlo
Wolf-shifter
Ian, Earl of Wye, recognizes Emma as his mate instantly and senses she’s in
danger. He knows Emma’s harboring a deep, dark secret. But, no matter what he
does, she won’t confide in him. Then he finds Emma wounded and rambling about
nine white gorgons who attacked her. The hounds of hell are Ian’s nemeses, and
the fact they’ve reappeared in the mortal world after centuries of banishment
can only mean one thing…
**An Excerpt from That Pearly Drop**
I’m in my governess room lying on
the canopy bed, and the sky outside my window is clear blue and cloudless.
“You’re awake.”
I flinch and twist around to find
Ian sitting in a chair beside my bed. My mouth’s dry, and I don’t know how to
react. I’m numb.
“How do you feel, Diana?”
“Emma. Confused. What happened?” I
try to sit up, but my head aches something fierce, and my arm hurts.
He studies me for a moment. “You
and the girls were surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves. We arrived just in
time, but one of the creatures nicked your arm.”
Only then do I notice the bandage
on my right arm.
“It’s a small wound, and Doctor
Raymond says it will heal in no time. He prescribed bed rest for today.” He
leans forward and places his palm on my forehead. “No fever. That’s good.”
I melt at his touch.
Really?
I’ve been attacked by zombie
creatures, and my body still responds to this man? I’m fed up, pissed, and in
pain. I’m sick about not knowing what the f**k is happening. All I want is to
be alone to wallow in self-pity.
“I’m tired.”
“Of course. I didn’t want you to be
frightened and uncertain when you awoke. Sleep. I’ll stop by later.” He rubs a
thumb above the injury on my arm. “I truly regret you had to suffer a wound. It
will not happen again.”
My arm warms, and the stinging pain
that was there eases.
I watch Ian leave and, when the
door shuts, let the tears fall. My sob session is exhausting, and I doze off
and on. When the monster memories threaten to swamp me, I think of Vikki and
Phoebe and my brothers. I’d give anything to have Antonio here. He has a way of
folding me into a hug that makes me feel completely safe.
I stare at the ceiling and wish I
were lying by the pool in Vikki’s apartment complex, drinking Margaritas and
arguing with her and Phoebe about where to have dinner. Finally, I force myself
to the present, which just so happens to be two hundred and fifty years in the
past.
Nope. Not going there.
Had I imagined everything? I’ve
seen loads of movies with wolves, and those white creatures were not wolves.
Not even close. I can’t even remember how I got from the picnic to here. Maybe
I am hallucinating in daylight. I mean, I have always had that recurring
nightmare. Maybe that’s one of the side effects of time travel. Or maybe I’m in
a mental facility in 2013, and all of this is my damaged reality.
I don’t know what to think, and I’m
fricking tired of 1763. I want to go home. I want mindless reality TV. I want
to not be scared shitless. I want a Big Mac and fries, vanilla-maple ice cream,
and a tall, tall Coke. I want my life back.
Learn more about author Jianne Carlo
Email: Jianne@jiannecarlo.com
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/jiannecarlo/
