Kate Warren

My dear friends, as we gather together on the internet for another weekend, I wish to thank all of your for your kindness and encouragement.  It gladdens my heart to read your comments each week, and I very much enjoy making the rounds of the other WeWriWa posts.

This week we are back to my WIP The DeFord Chronicles, Part II.  I have used the random scrolling method and it has brought us to a couple I have not yet introduced to you all.  With all the lovey-doves flying around court, I have to say these two are refreshing in that their courtship is rather unconventional, far less flowery and poetic than many of the other couples in the story.

Ian Devereaux came to court only because he couldn't get out of it, but he found a purpose for being there the moment he set eyes on Sarah Milton.  He took a unique approach to wooing: he simply decided he would marry her and told her so.  She, being rather level-headed and not prone to the whims of others, has pretty much ignored his declaration.  Yet Ian persists in believing that they are to be wed.

Sarah finally gets angry enough to lose her temper while they are out riding, and the following occurs. (creative punctuation warning)


          “By God you are beautiful!”  It was not like Ian to say such things aloud but her eyes blazing, her cheeks flushed, and the look of angry determination on her face was an ironically perfect complement to her normally placid nature.
          She raised the hand holding her riding crop to strike him, but he was quicker than she.  He edged his mount beside hers, caught her hand and kissed her full on the mouth in broad daylight where anyone might see.
          Chest heaving, eyes still snapping, she stared at him and then did the unthinkable--she kissed him back.  
          “Be my wife,” he blurted out without thinking.
          She pulled her arm free of his grasp and dug her heels into the gelding.  “You shall have to catch me first.”


That's my eight for the week, though I had to squeeze it some.  I hope you enjoyed it.  I'll see you around the web.

Kate

Thank you to all who visited last week.  Many of you were very concerned about our poor poison victims and I'm sorry to tell you that I will not continue from there this week.  However, the virtue of the random scrolling method is that I can blame it, should anyone have a complaint. ;o)

This week I'm going way back to the first half of the draft.  Let's see where I end up.  All the way back in Chapter 8.  Royal marriages in the 15th century were not love matches by any means.  The bride and groom often met at the wedding mass, and it was understood by all that happiness was a luxury.  The point of the union was to forge an alliance and produce heirs.  Liking one another was unneccessary.  However, despite the realities of the times, some royal couples lucked out and ended up well-matched anyway.  I give you such a couple.


          Princess Sophie of Frandia leaned back happily upon numerous cushions. She thanked the Lord for her good fortune. The daughter of a powerful family, she had no illusions about her value to her elders: she was a pawn to further their ambitions.  She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that her marriage would be one not of her choosing, thus she had prayed for a husband who would be kind to her.  She had not thought to ask for more, and yet Nicholas of Frandia had far exceeded her expectations.
          Seeing him for the first time at their wedding, she had been struck by the beauty of his countenance, the strength apparent in his trim body, the warmth in his eyes.  The wedding night had been most pleasant. She had been well-prepared for rough-use, pain, and embarrassment, but apparently she had been misinformed. 


I think that counters last week's rather depressing excerpt rather nicely.  I have a meeting this afternoon but hopefully will be able to make all my regular visits before the end of Monday.  See you around the web my fellow Weekend Writing Warriors.

Kate

It's the last weekend of February, and thus the last weekend I will deliberately focus on a romantic eight sentences for WeWriWa. 

It would have been lovely to close out the month with the main character and his lady love.  Unfortunately, they are not together at this point in the story.  Instead I give you a dear friend of his. 

Duncan St. Robert is somewhat of a ladies' man, but he has never yet been in love.  His sisters have been warning him for some time that when he does fall, he'll fall hard.  In this scene he's been watching a new lady at court, or rather watching her back.  Then she turns around...


          "His heart stopped beating in his chest, and then resumed at a galloping pace. This maiden had alabaster skin and delicate brows framing eyes that beckoned to him despite the fact that she had not seen him.  He could not tell the color of those enchanting orbs and he felt as if his life’s work must be to discover their hue. 
          Duncan squared his shoulders, took ten steps toward her … and tripped.  
           Red curls appeared in front of his face.  “Are you hurt?”  He looked up into gray- green eyes filled with concern for him and in that instant lost his heart.  
           “I feel no pain.”


I suppose I should mention that the red curls belong to the very lady he was watching.  And Duncan doesn't know it, but she was watching him too. 

That's my eight for the week.  Please be sure to visit all the other talented authors who participate in WeWriWa.

Kate

My dear friends and readers, this week I share a romantic yet melancholy eight sentences.  Sometimes romance is painful.

Christian, duke of Langdon, is in love.  He is also nearly finished negotiating a betrothal contract that his late father sought for him.  The maiden to whom he is as good as promised is under the guardianship of a greedy uncle who will stop at nothing to see her become a duchess (and she's no more inclined to wed Christian than he is to wed her).  The maiden he loves is Princess Therese.  Therese loves him right back but there's nothing they can do.  We join Christian as he is despising both his future uncle-in-law and his late father for getting him into this mess, and wishing he were free to try for the woman he loves.




           His chances would not have been great, but at least he would have had the possibility of success.  Now he could not even speak to her in too familiar a manner, could not touch her except in a dance, could not write to her.  
           No one could keep him from writing of  her though.  He’d filled page after page of parchment putting his feelings into verse.  He wrote songs she would never hear; sonnets she would never read.  He would be idly sketching and look down to see her face on the page, her eyes staring into his.  
           Passing her in the corridors and halls his breath would catch.  His desire for the princess drove him to distraction, but even stronger than that was his longing to hear her confidences, dry her tears, share her laughter and
her dreams, to keep her safe and make her feel cherished as she should be, to see his child in her arms.



That's my eight for the week.  Thank you for visiting, and I hope to see you as I make the rounds to support the other talented authors who are part of WeWriWa.  

Kate


 

In honor of Valentine's Day some people give others a box of chocolates, or a dozen roses.  Me, I'm giving away a dozen free eBooks. 

Why am I doing this, you ask?  Is it because:
A) I'm desperate for attention and acknowledgment. 
B) My heart of gold longs to share with others.
C) It's a clever ruse to increase my blog traffic, which in turn will feed my plans for world domination.
D) All of the above.
or E) Who cares? Free eBooks!

I'd like to remind the reader that there is no wrong answer to this question. 

All you have to do to enter to win one of a dozen eBooks of my bestselling* novel Bridging The Gaps  is read the excerpt below and leave a comment with your email address.  Of course if you want to blog, tweet, facebook, email or otherwise tell all of your friends about it, that would be nice, but it's not necessary. 


The excerpt is a Christmas scene because the Valentine's Day scenes have major spoilers and I thought I should stick with a holiday:



          Three knocks had signaled Ellen’s arrival at Henry’s apartment.  He shut the door and pulled her into a long, slow kiss, then released her and went to pour the wine.  She leaned against the door for a moment and looked around. 
           Henry’s place was larger than she’d expected.  Stephanie’s entire apartment could fit in his living room. Of course Henry could afford all this. He’d decorated mostly with mistletoe; it was everywhere.  There was an artificial pre-lit tree in one corner with a few ornaments and a silver tinsel garland. 
          “Here you are.”  He handed her a glass of wine.  “Would you like to watch a movie?  I have a nice selection of rented DVDs here: It’s a Wonderful Life; White Christmas; Mrs. Claus and the Very Naughty Elves.”
          She laughed and sat down.  “How about some music?”
          “Coming right up.”  He put on an instrumental holiday CD he’d found in the bargain bin at a local store and sat down next to her.  “So…do you come here often?”
          “No.  This is my first time.”
          “Well let me give you the tour.”  He stood and held out a hand to her, which she took obligingly.  They walked slowly through the apartment.  “This is the living room.  That’s the kitchen.  Here’s the bathroom.  A spare room I’m not using at the moment.”  
           They came to the last door and Ellen opened it. Glancing back at him she went in the room and settled on the bed.  “Won’t you join me?”
          “Hell yes.”  He downed the rest of his wine and left the glass on a table in the hallway. This time she didn’t mention the language.  He sat next to her and pulled pins from her hair, setting them on the bedside table. Then he put an arm around her and just sat.
          “Henry?”
          “Yes?”
          “Aren’t you going to unwrap your present?”
          “You mean it’s not going to unwrap itself?”
          “It’s an old-fashioned present.” 
          “Oh, I see.  Well then I’d better get to work.”



That's it.  Leave a comment before 11:59 pm US Central Time on the 14th.  Winners will be chosen by random drawing.  Spreading the word, or saying nice things about the excerpt will not improve your chances of winning but will endear you to me greatly. :o)

Kate

(*among novels set in Wisconsin and featuring one or more dentists in a romantic role)




 

Welcome to another special February edition of Weeked Writing Warriors in KateWarrenLand.  Thank you to everyone who came here last Sunday to read, and comment.  I'm sorry I didn't get all my usual visiting done.  Was struck down with a cold.  Hopefully, I'll do better this week.

That said, it's time to introduce this week's eight sentences.  From Chapter 13, I give you a secret admirer and a sonnet.




          A hand reached out from the bushes and pressed a scrap of parchment into Lilia St. Robert’s hand.  She glanced around quickly but no one appeared to be present.  With quickly beating heart, she strolled as calmly as possible to a shaded corner of the gardens and read the writing.

          The sun in brightness pales to see thy smile.
          The stars are envious of thy shining grace.
          The moon is dimmer than thy glow of youth.
          My heart doth beat but to behold thy face.
          If only thou return my love, my sweet,
          I’ll lay the world entire at thy feet.




That's all from me for this week.  Please join me in visiting the talented authors who participate in WeWriWa. 

Kate

Last Sunday saw the end of Six Sentence Sundays.  Even the website isn't the same.  I went there later in the week to try and get to some of the Sixers I missed on Sunday and the list was gone.  *sniff, sniff*

This Sunday however, brings a new beginning.  Weekend Writing Warriors is similar to SSS in that you post on a Sunday and there is a limit.  Anyone can participate, any writer, published or unpublished, serious or frivolous, professional or amateur, no matter the genre.  WeWriWa has a limit of eight sentences, so that's what you're going to get.  Eight sentences--no more, no less.

For the month of February I will be posting exclusively romantic excerpts. Today's excerpt comes from Chapter 7 of my current WIP The DeFord Chronicles, Part II.  Anton DuClerque has requested the hand of Baron Spencer's granddaughter.  The two families are discussing the possibility of a marriage.  Spencer speaks first, having commented that there is rather little in the way of a dowry.


          "...I mean no disrespect to Anton.  I merely wish him to understand the situation fully.  I know that money is not his motivation, which leaves me to wonder what is. Surely my lords you can not argue that the boy might have his choice of nearly any maiden in Frandia.”
          Anton looked Baron Spencer square in the eye.  “I do not want any maiden in Frandia.  I want Graciela.  I swear to you that I shall honor her and protect her with the last breath in my body.”



*sigh*  Hope you enjoyed my eight.  I have an afternoon meeting that will interfere with my WeWriWa visiting, but rest assured I shall make the rounds. 

Kate

Welcome back to Six Sentence Sunday in Kate Warren Land. Thank you for taking the time to visit, read, and comment. 

This week I am trying something new.  I'm going to scroll through my manuscript for a random time period and choose six sentences from whichever page I see in front of me when I've stopped scrolling.  Yes, I'm being bold and daring this week.  Here goes:  we have landed on page 197, which puts us in Chapter 31.

Stephanie is under the weather, and unhappy about the fact that her boyfriend Joe has been avoiding her since she said she was falling in love with him.  Her doorbell has continued to ring for several minutes and despite her determination to outwait whatever visitor she might have, Stephanie's decided to take a more pro-active approach.  She's considered breathing on the offender, but she doubts whatever bug she has is lethal.  So she chooses the next best option:


          She grabbed a frying pan, intent on making the doorbell ringer suffer through physical force if viruses wouldn’t do the trick.  She opened the door while raising the pan.  It hit the carpet with a muffled thud as Stephanie stared at a dozen seemingly disembodied long stemmed red roses.  Following the string with her eyes, she looked up to the ceiling where it was draped over a hook, then followed it back down, leaning out through the doorway to see Joe holding the other end of it.  She looked back to the hook.  “The super is gonna be pissed.” 


That's it for me.  It's been a long week and I'm looking forward to a day of visiting all of my favorite Sixers. :)

Kate