Hello. I’m Kiss Carson, mother to three, wife to one (and that’s enough). I live in Queensland, Australia with my family, three cats and lots of fish. Somewhere in between the demanding cries of “Hey Mum!”, washing, cooking, cleaning…Oh! Don’t forget the “paid” work, I find time to write fantasy/paranormal romance novels.
Now, my gorgeous children, Miss 17, a budding wife and mother, Master 11, a quantum scientist in training, and Miss 10, environmental warrior, keep me on my toes, and give me countless moments of happiness. Not a day goes by where I’m not amazed by their resilience, determination and general outlook on life.
Take Master 11 for instance. He has Asperger’s Syndrome…extremely entertaining at the best of times…A few weeks ago he discussed Darwin’s Theory of Evolution with me. (clears throat) Now, I don’t think Darwin’s Theory is something a 11 yo should be worried about, but Master 11 isn’t like any other child I’ve met. His favourite show is Life After People. He knows about Pandora’s Box and Nostradamus. He knows about the horrors of the wars, where, when, how and who. He reads 2-3 books a day, the “Horrible” Series. Horrible History, Horrible Science, Horrible Nature etc, etc… However, ask him to name the four TMNT’s, he’s lost. Hehehe
In my writing, I often draw on Master 11’s emotional skills to give life to my heroes. In my third book, In the Shadows of Angels, Luke is a little lost, and sometimes quite intense. There is no happy medium with Luke Benedict. Ella, however, is the complete opposite, whimsical, open to love, and too eager to fall head over heels (a little reminiscent of Miss 17).
Never give up your sense of humour. When everything else looks grey and dreary, laughter is sometimes the only thing that’s left.
When Ella Jeffries receives a mysterious book, she is drawn into its pages and transported back in time. The year is 1709, and the place is the hauntingly beautiful Aingealag Estate tucked away on the shores of Loch Moibeal in the Scottish Highlands. She rescues Lucius “Luke” Benedict, the gorgeous Laird of Aingealag, from an unjust beheading for the alleged murder of his wife.
Luke’s burning dark gaze and sensual aura draw Ella into his tragic life, and the safety of his strong arms. However, the closer she comes to Luke, the more baffling the mystery becomes. With the help of Luke’s beloved horse, Jury, a ghost cat named Shamus, and Moibeal the Loch Monster, she inches closer to clearing Luke’s name.
Can Ella save the Benedict family, or will Aingealag’s shadows swallow them all whole?
Pulling on his coat, Luke hurried through the castle, the unbearable iciness prickling his skin. However, the frosty night hadn’t drilled him from his slumber. Someone had screamed, a shrill, terrified sound that shattered his serenity.
He approached the corridor intersection. Soft muttering came from the dimness ahead. Moving closer to the corner, he peered into shadows further up the hallway, uneasy. This hallway led to Roslyn’s room. Had his wife returned from the dead to wreak revenge on her loveless husband?
Someone, or something, shuffled towards him. Luke rubbed his bristled chin, refusing to allow fear to control him. Everything could be explained rationally, even the stumbling, whimpering thing sliding along the wall. Stepping forward, his eyebrows shot up when he recognized Ella’s slight form. She stared behind her as though some night creature hunted her down.
“What are you doing here?” Luke regretted his rough tone when Ella stiffened with fright and turned to him, her sapphire eyes wide as carriage wheels. Her pretty heart-shaped face paled.
Luke lunged for her when she stumbled—or swooned—he wasn’t quite sure what happened. In less than a heartbeat, he cradled her in his arms and she gazed up at him as though he’d saved her from a fate worse than death. Ella’s hand rested lightly on his chest, her simple touch rippling through the hard, masculine shell he’d spent years building.
“Damn,” he muttered and dumped her on her feet before he succumbed to her sweet seduction.
As he stepped away, Ella’s fiery curls tangled around a button on his coat. She jerked towards him with a grunt, leaning a shoulder against his chest as she untangled her hair.
“You scared me half to death,” she told him, her voice shaking.
Luke contemplated the top of her head, wanting to touch but not daring. He didn’t need the added complication of another woman at the moment. Finally free of her hair, he stepped back. Maybe he should flee her tempting form while he still could. Instead of running like a coward, he stared into her shimmering eyes and managed a frown. “What are you doing here?”
“I—.” Ella pointed behind her. “Ah—.” She indicated in front of her. “Then—.” Her trembling finger moved to him.
Luke raised his eyebrows, bewildered. Ella folded her arms and moved closer to him. Her hair hung around her shoulders in a mass of copper colored tangles, her pale face drawn with fear. Her unloved foundling aura brought out the protector in him, stirred his emotions and somewhat confused him. Cursing his addled mind, he pointed at the door visible at the end of the corridor.
“Did you go into that room?” he demanded.