Author Spotlight: Dana Mitchell

September 13, 2020

I wanted to highlight Dana Mitchells story, THE GOVERNESS, with a snippet below. The story is set in Scotland with a delicious Laird and is Book 1 of The Lady Berserker Series! I know! What a fabulous high concept! You can guess what her secret is and all the turmoil she faces of how to manage being who she is and….falling in love. A delicious read!

CLICK IMAGED TO GO TO ANTHOLOGY

The Governess – Dana Mitchell

The Laird pulled something from his pocket. “Here.”

She looked down at the candle in his large hand, and then back up at him.

He explained softly, “I thought a spare would be needed.”

She swallowed, her heart expanding in her chest, and wrenched her gaze to the candle in his hand lest he see the emotion in her eyes. She raised tentative fingers, trying to avoid touching him. If she touched him…no, she couldn’t.

She took the candle between her thumb and forefinger, and quickly lowered her hand, hardly daring to breathe. “Thank you, Laird Grant.”

It didn’t matter. He took the step to bring him closer, close enough for her to feel the warmth coming off his body in the chill of the night. The sound of the wind seemed far away, and her hand clenched around the candle as she fought the urge to move closer.

The gentle caress of his slightly rough fingers on her jaw had her gaze flying to his, watching the way the light from the torch gilded the stubble of his new beard and outlined his lips.

“Ever since our first meeting down at the river, I’ve wondered if your skin was as soft as it felt.”

Frances tried to draw the air into her lungs, but her lungs refused to obey.

He cupped her jaw, running a thumb along her chin.

“Laird Gra—”

“Duncan, lass.” He tilted her chin with the crook of his finger and his head bent, his thumb stroking the contours of her lips. They felt full, as though her blood loved his caress and followed it with mindless devotion.

He stopped, a breath away.

And Frances, mesmerised by the heat in his gaze, leaned in.

Soft lips touched hers for the briefest moment, and her heart shuddered to a stand-still.

“When you’re going to kiss a man, you call him by his name.” He whispered against her lips.

Her lashes, too heavy to hold up, fell. For the first time in the longest time, the darkness felt warm and safe as he pressed his mouth to hers once more.

His lips moved slowly over hers, learning their shape, nibbling here and there, while his hand cupped her cheek. When he withdrew, she followed his mouth with her own, raising up on tip toes.

His thumb swept over her bottom lip and then gently tugged.

Once more his mouth covered hers, except now Frances tasted him as his tongue gently licked inside. Her breath caught and then she exhaled as his tongue withdrew. Her hand came up, fingers wrapped around his arm to bolster herself as she tried to follow again, her senses registering the hard muscle.

“More, lass?” It was a low growl that raised goosebumps on her skin.

Oh, yes.

Without hesitating, her lips parted, wanting only the pleasurable intimacy of his mouth on hers.

His hand shifted, sliding around her nape, burrowing into her loose plait. His lips touched hers and his tongue pushed slowly into her mouth. Shivering, Francis angled her head and touched her tongue to his, lost in the dark intimacy.

He made a deep sound in his throat as he thrust his tongue against hers, again and again. In a heartbeat, a heated pleasure turned the warmth in her blood to a raging inferno. Lost, she had no recollection when the Laird pushed her against the wall, wrapping a strong arm around her, his hand tightening in her hair. No recollection either, of her arms around his neck, wanting only to get closer, the voracious heat of his mouth delicious.

When his mouth left hers, she inhaled with greedy pulls of her lungs, only to lose her breath again when his lips travelled along the length of her jaw and then beneath, his new beard softly scraping her skin. He gently bit the sensitive skin along the tendon, and she gave a soft cry when the muscles deep in her pelvis contracted, her nails digging into his skin.

“Aye, lass, open your eyes. I need to see them.”

She didn’t understand the demand and he drew her head back. “Open your eyes, Frances.”

Lifting her lashes, she wondered how such a simple action could be so hard.

“Aye,” he breathed, “Blue eyes that blaze like a pure blue flame.”

For a moment, she could only gaze at him, seeing the heat in his eyes, and then the words registered. She blinked, and her eyes stretched wide as horror replaced her desire. “No,” she breathed.

“Frances?”

With a little gasp, she yanked her arms from around his neck, trying to shrink back into the wall. Mentally flaying herself, she shut her traitorous mouth and pushed against his broad chest.

MORE INFORMATION AVAILABLE ON DANA’S WEBSITE HERE

ALSO BY DANA MITCHELL

My latest book HIS BOUNTY : Book 1 of my Pirates of Pleasure duet, is also in the Anthology called REVEALED: A Romance Anthology containing six fabulous and diverse reads.

Delicious Snippet….Captain Jax

June 14, 2020

This is from the start of the book as Captian Jax is ensuring his crew knows who our heroine, Blue, belongs to.

Next minute Blue’s world tipped. Her new captor, a tall, tanned, and annoyingly good swimmer, picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. She growled and began her onslaught to have him put her down.

She’d been so close. Her knee thumped against his chest and he tightened his hold. The bounty hunter had found her standing on the country lane in the Lake District.  

“Any man dispute my claim?” The captain’s growl rumbled against her legs which were held hard against his chest. His shoulder dug into her belly and pressed in with every step as he stalked around, sticking his face up close to the men gathered around them.  

“Anyone?” The captain shout-growled and damn it if there wasn’t an unwanted ripple of pleasure at the possession. It had been so long since she’d felt that kind of a ripple.

The captain turned and in moments he bounded down stairs taking them below deck.

“Hey.” That shoulder bumped and bumped into her stomach and she gave his back a thump. “Hey! Put me down.”

He was impervious and continued to take long strides down the hallway, door opening. Then her world tipped back upright, and the blood rushed out of her head as her feet touched the floor.

“Bastard.”

“I thought we’d already met.” Came his tight reply. “I believe you climbed all over me at the time and wouldn’t let me go.”

“I was drowning.” she growled back.

“Excuses, excuses.”

Double bastard, she bolted for the door.

“Woe.” His arm wrapped around her. And blast it, heat washed unexpectedly across her chest as he drew her back against him, holding her close. Her heart gave exaggerated beats as he leaned them as one to close and lock the door. The air got caught in her throat. He was muscle, strength that encased her from behind and the side as he kept her wrapped against his chest. The feeling of being held like that triggered a longing so deep, so long pushed aside, her eyes almost welled up. Where the hell did that come from? She swatted at him.

“It’s not safe up there.” He hushed near her ear. “Trust me, you are safer down here. Take some time. Take stock.” The sound of his voice lulled her. The heat from his body amazingly comforting against her damp clothes.

Snippet….Pirates

June 7, 2020

I thought I’d give you a sexy teaser this week for our snippet of HIS BOUNTY Book 1 in the PIRATES of PLEASURE Duet. This comes from the start of the book where our feisty minx of a heroine is in the captain’s cabin and about to find out what kind of reckoning Captain Jax has in mind for her.

The silence after her tirade, after the last article of her clothing had been removed, crackled. His all too handsome face made her skin burn and her sex throb. Her nipples hardened, her breasts ached, and she could feel all of her body at once…humming, vibrating.

And she wasn’t alone.

He had stilled, his eyes eating the sight of her left a burning trail over her exposed skin. The length of him pressed long and thick against his trousers, she knew exactly what that would feel like…

His hands were white as they gripped the edge of the desk making her heart suddenly lurch in her chest at the thought of what he held himself back from doing.

Every second, the intensity between them mounted. Her body sunk deeper and deeper into unbidden want, into a heat of desire that called…that begged for her to pound out that she was alive in the most fundamental of ways…with him.

Ludovico Einaudi….for the love of the Arctic

June 5, 2020

‘Through his music, acclaimed Italian composer and pianist Ludovico Einaudi has added his voice to those of eight million people from across the world demanding protection for the Arctic. Einaudi performed one of his own compositions on a floating platform in the middle of the Ocean, against the backdrop of the Wahlenbergbreen glacier (in Svalbard, Norway).’
You can see the set up video HERE

Pirates of Pleasure Snippet

May 31, 2020

Snippet from the start of His Bounty, Book 1 of Pirates of Pleasure

 

Each button took far too long.

The crew around them shuffled closer.

A peak of flesh at her neck, the shell of an ear, something…a marking of some kind. Patterns that could well be a further layer of fabric covering her.

She hesitated a moment, then swiftly pulled the fabric mask up revealing her face and a head of ink black hair about half an inch long.

The breath caught in his throat as lust punched through him, his heart raced, and his body tightened to move into action.

“Hold firm.” Jax barked out the order.

Oaths were sworn, mutterings, a barked nervous laugh, a low long whistle.

“No one move!” He growled, throat suddenly dry. He may have just made a big mistake, but there was no going back now they had all seen her face.

 

 

 

SNIPPET #3: HIS BOUNTY

May 17, 2020

A delicious 3rd snippet from the upcoming Duet – Pirates of Pleasure

Here is a taste from the beginning of Book 1.

Our hero, the delectable Captain Jax, has just taken possession of our heroine, ‘Blue’, who promptly (in her true gutsy style), jumps overboard.

 

Her head resurfaced, the strange fabric face mask plastered wet over the contours of her face showing a mouth gaping open, the concave shape of the fabric echoing her frantic gasps for breath.

An unwanted spike of pity cut through him, a gut deep need to end it and save her, but he was a pirate not a compassionate man. Jax grabbed her shoulder and hauled her above the waterline and still there were no hands grasping for him. Damn her.

“Choose now, the bottom of the river or me!” His voice was harsh and loud. “Choose!” Then he let her go. Waited for her to grab hold of him like any rational person would.

Instead, she went under again.

“Fuck.” His heart pounded, the tension churned, and every instinct pushed for him to simply grab her and haul her back to safety. The Thames was a killer, it had dangerous and changeable currents and undertows like any body of water, but illness was the stealthy killer. London’s factory runoff, its sewerage, its garbage all ran into the river in addition to it being the graveyard of the criminal and poor. The longer both of them stayed in the water the more water she’d swallow, and the trouble wouldn’t stop once he got her safe, she could come down with something and have no body weight to see it through. That would be a big financial loss to him and his crew, let alone the fallout from Moriata after being trusted with his personal request to bring her back.

And yet he had to push her now, he felt it like a tangible press, her will against his. Her gamble was that he would not let another human drown, especially one with a wealthy bounty on her head; and his bet was that her human instinct to survive and the fear of drowning, would override any plan she was set on and have her concede, have her reach out to save herself.

Seconds passed like minutes. Every part of him focused on where she was in the water, watching shadows, swirls of fabric, making damn sure he could get her, could ensure the current wouldn’t suddenly tug her under and away.

He and his crew, men who lived on the water, could hold their breaths longer than most people. You learned to dive, to dive deep in their line of business. You chased sinking plunder, you chased sinking mates, you dived with the half-naked pearl divers as they swam like sea sirens for aeons under the water. But not this little pocket of life, she would only know how to hold her breath in the bath and yet still she didn’t reach for him. Fuck but he admired that as much as he cursed her for it.

 

 

 

SNIPPET #2: HIS BOUNTY

May 10, 2020

A delicious second snippet from the upcoming Duet – Pirates of Pleasure

I have so enjoyed writing these two connected stories. Here is a taste from Book 1 following on from last week.

Meaks stepped forward and reached for her. The little spit fire swiped away his hands, growling and giving him a good kick; the crew laughed. And damn it if she didn’t look over to the rail again. Meaks once more reached out and she dodged his grasp, stepped back then sank into a fighter’s pose.

Of course the goading from the crew started as Meaks circled her to find an in.

Do you think you can take her Meaks or is she too much for you?  

Step aside and let a real man have a go Meaks.

That growl something you’re scared of Meaks like the dark?

Jax held up his hand, Meaks stepped back, the crew stilled.

The Bounty straightened, shook out her limbs.

“You next?” she challenged.

And just like that he started to go hard. Her voice. The accent…unplaceable, the pitch, the lilt. If he was a decent man he’d want her to read a book out loud, recite the alphabet just so he could listen to it. But he wan’t, he wanted that voice to croon, to call out in need, to mutter a string of obscenities he intended to teach her if she was even passable under that face covering.

 

Stunning Masks by Damselfrau

May 4, 2020

There is something fundamental about masks. We have worn them throughout the ages and we wear them figuratively every day. The work of Damselfrau, working name of artist Magnhild Kennedy, is a stunning example of the power and beauty of the Mask.

In Visual Atelier 8, Damselfrau was asked:

It can be argued that the mask exists as an art object, as an investured pseudo personae, as a hiding space, as a symbolic representation, or even as a simple cultural adornment. With this multimodality of meaning in mind, is the mask as everything here stated, and more, or might it in your view, possess one quintessential overarching quality?

In reply she said: The main power is transformative. Most of all it’s simply just fundamentally human, isn’t it?

I agree.

I also think some things exist past our ability to fully articulate them. A mask belongs there. A part of me wants to know the what and how of them… but then I step back, step back and allow the magic to be there free from dissection and cognitive comprehension. Much like ‘too many cooks spoil the broth’, dissecting something magical robs it of its power and removes its mystery, it takes something wondrous and places it into the mundane.

For me, and it is very personal how creatives tackle this, the alchemy of creating stories and the writing process are in that same situation. I don’t want to dissect a story, I don’t want to disect why it has come to me, or why I am driven to create it; I simply want to be in the experience of creating it.

Damselfrau says something similar about her mask making, she says she doesn’t plan, she just remains present with the mask as it is made, following the journey the materials take her, not trying to plan or ‘design it’ as such.

In my stories, I specifically leave some of the aspects of character and motivation unexplained not only to the reader but to myself as the writer. As a reader and even as a the writer, its comforting to know, to ‘see behind the mask’ of a character. But by getting that insight into a character we categorize them, slip them into a box. Their magic leaks away. Stories and the characters in them need magic and power to make you love them, to have them resonate with their symbolic and archetypal lineage.

The other element of not fully explaining a character is that we are ostensibly hidden from ourselves. We don’t fully know why we do what we do and why we feel as we do, even if we think we do. When I write I don’t always look for answers so much as congruency, that sense that the flow of a character feels right to itself. I think a character can’t be fully revealed and consciously resolved to themselves. As we have our figurative masks in life they do too; they can be resolved to a satisfying level to the reader but not fully and most certainly not to themselves.

As a writer, I find the process of writing one that almost asks me to step into a character much like stepping into the mask, placing it on and looking through it, imbuing oneself with its world view and the world’s view of it.

 

Have a look at her work and see what you might wear ….. I have chosen some above that would easily part of Elsa’s world….

www.damselfrau.com

https://www.facebook.com/Damselfrau-173155272707889/

 

Snippet # 1 – HIS BOUNTY

May 3, 2020

London docks, 1898

She stood defiantly even as she shivered in her damp clothes. The crew had gathered to look at her, a small soaked package, clearly female with soft lean curves, flared hips and breasts. It was the fabric covering her hands, face and neck ensuring not even a slice of skin was seen that was causing the restlessness.

What was she hiding? What was under them?

The bounty hunter had said she was not diseased. What then, maimed, grotesque, disfigured?

Then again, they’d all seen the women in the east, cloaked in their black full body coverings with nothing but dark luminous eyes to be seen. Whispers to foreigners questioning the practice was that the garment concealed some of the most beautiful women in the world.

Whichever related to the little bounty in front of them, it was something best known than kept a secret.

“Take off her face covering.” Captain Jax motioned to his First Mate, a ripple of unease curling in his gut. Trouble. This little package was going to be trouble.

Snippet taken from the start of Book 1 of the Pirate of Pleasure: His Bounty, due out in an Anthology called Secrets later this year.

Betrothed Available Now

February 16, 2020

Betrothed Launched globally 14th February and is #1 Best New Release in Russian Literature.

It was in the Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Anthology from Mid Oct 2019 – Mid January 2020 where it received reviews like this one from Estela on Goodreads that made my day!!

THE RUSSIAN BETROTHAL by Elsa Holland

5 stars

Starring Miss Georgina Franklin and Prince Vladimir Demetri James Petroski.

Long time childhood betrothal…. in disguise trope.

Holy babushka, Batman… this story was so freaken hot…. and wowza those postcards!! I tooooootally ugly cried AF!! I loved everything about this story… and I loved every second that I spent reading about Georgie and Demetri’s road to HEA!!

Georgie is the kind of heroine that I love… she is strong and feisty and fights for what she wants. She had so many little defiant moments that I kept shouting “huzzah” for her.

Demetri is all kinds of delicious!! He has to choose between his growing attraction for Georgie and family obligations. Awww man!! Ya gotta love a tortured and conflicted hero… they are the yummiest!!

So many misunderstandings that they had to weed through, but these two couldn’t fight their attraction for each other. They were so beautiful together…. they made my toes curl!!

This is my first Elsa Holland story and I’m about to check out all her titles!! I’m putting her on my “New Favorite Author of 2020” list!! Can’t wait to read more books from her!!

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Betrothed delectable snippet

February 3, 2020

That feeling of vertigo returned, the one she got when she stepped off a cliff, like going to The Velvet Basement, like showing him the image. She tentatively lifted her hand, like she might to a wild beast, not wanting it to shy away and not wanting to get bitten either, and let her fingers hover over his lips.

“Demetri?” her voice was a whisper. “Can I….?”

He made a sound, a beautiful pained sound she took as assent and lightly touched his lips. A quick glance up into those black pupils, he wasn’t shocked, annoyed or angry. Georgie took in a shaky breath and her touch deepened, a soft press against the fullness of hips mouth, a glide across its surface. It was much, much softer than she imagined, lips firm, full and soft.

Every nerve was suddenly alive, vibrating. A cacophony of communication as if she had swallowed a beehive. Rational thoughts had long left. What drove her was something far more primitive. And unbelievably delicious.

His hand came around her wrist, she stilled for a moment and when he didn’t stop her, she continued. Fingers traced the seam of his mouth, back and forth, and then she stopped, took a shuddering breath and pressed her finger between his lips.

The tip touched teeth which parted, dragged over the top of her finger as she gently and slowly pressed in and touched his tongue.

His hand tightened around her wrist.

Georgie held her breath. Her finger encircled and encased in the soft, damp, heat of his mouth.

The air between them so tight.

And then he sucked. Aching need blossomed between her legs. A throbbing want pulsed and lured her with all kinds of promises. Inexplicable feelings washed through her making her aware of everything…her nipples as they pressed against fabric, her breasts aching to be touched, the emptiness between her legs, especially there, at the hot center of her sex.

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