Wednesday, December 16, 2009

When you’re in love, magical things can happen…

Wow, where did 2009 go? I can’t believe this is my last blog of 2009. What better time to tell you about my newest book, Sleeping With Fairies that’s released on Monday (December 21st) by Lyrical Press.

When I started writing, I always dreamed of one day setting a story in Ireland because my paternal grandmother was born in County Cork. This story came about in the days when I all I could manage to write was a short story. The characters of Claire and Michael jumped into my head and Ireland seemed the perfect setting for it. I mailed it off to the People’s Friend, a UK magazine. It came back a month later with a rejection letter. I put it aside for a few months but the story and the characters wouldn’t leave my head. My next idea was to write a novella and expand on the short story I’d created. Half way through writing, I realized this story had taken on a new life, the characters had grown and they deserved nothing less than a full novel.

I’ve always enjoyed both Irish fairy tales and ghost stories. Maybe it’s my Irish heritage but I believe magical things can happen if you truly believe in something. For me, that magical thing was becoming a published author.
Here is the blurb and an excerpt for Sleeping With Fairies. I hope you’ll read the book, find yourself transported to the Emerald Isle and that something magical happens to you too.

Oh, and did I happen to mention the book makes the idea last minute holiday gift!

Magic is a big part of Claire Mahoney’s life, but that gift comes with the burden of a curse. The man she marries will die a month after the wedding. A gifted landscaper, she beautifies people’s gardens but is missing the light of love in her own life.

Michael Finnegan swears he will never be romantically involved again, not after the death of his wife. His daughter, Rachel, is of another mind when they move next door to Claire, whom she suspects is a witch. Rachel also begins to look up to Claire as another mother, thwarting Michael's desire to remain casual and distant from his new neighbor.

Sparks fly and the magic of true love follows. But when the curse rears its ugly head, will Michael and Claire be destined to never live happily ever after again?

Beads of sweat popped out on Michael’s brow. He swiped at them. He knew he should take a walk to cool down, but Rachel was in bed. He didn’t want to leave her alone in the house.
When he glanced out again, he saw Claire standing close to her window. There was a pair of binoculars around here somewhere. He’d packed them where they would be easy to find because he knew the house was by the sea, and the village had lots of interesting things for him to look at, although he didn’t quite expect one of them to be his neighbor. Michael glanced around the room, searching for the box he’d packed them in. Spotting what looked like the one, he made his way over to it. Rewarded for his effort, he pulled them out, making fast work of removing the covers from the lenses. He hid around the side of the drapes so nothing but the lenses were visible. All of a sudden, Claire came into full view. With the help of the binoculars, it looked like she was standing right in front of him.
He wondered if she had a boyfriend. In fact, it would be a blessing if she did. Michael almost dropped the binoculars when he noticed she was about to unbutton her blouse. He had to quit looking right now. He had to for his sake—hers too.
“Put the binoculars down, Finnegan,” he said under his breath.
It was impossible, because something was drawing him to her. He sensed it. Rachel’s story could be true, maybe Claire was a witch. Perhaps none of this was his fault. Just maybe he had no control over the situation.
For goodness sake, who was he fooling with thoughts like that?
She’d started to unbutton her blouse. She was about to slip the last of the buttons through the hole. Now she was pulling the blouse open, then she was sliding it off her shoulders.
He took a deep breath. What if she wasn’t wearing a bra? Some women didn’t. Did Claire Mahoney seem like the sort of woman who went braless? His heart pounded like the first time he’d set eyes on her. He licked his dry lips.
He took another deep breath. The blouse was off—yes, she was wearing a bra. He felt a hint of disappointment. The bra was a lacy one. Only a half one, mind you. What did women call them? There was a special name for them, but he couldn’t recall it.
Her breasts spilled over the bra. He licked his lips again. This time they weren’t dry. Michael imagined his lips grazing the tops of her breasts. He’d slide his tongue back and forth across them, making her think she was being tickled. Maybe she’d even giggle at the sensation.
Oh no, she’d seen him.
He’d been caught.
Michael sprang back from the window, almost tripping over his own feet. Now what was he going to do? He’d been caught red-handed. Would she knock on the door any minute? She knew he was home, so he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t. He’d have to go open the door. She’d probably slap him across the face. And he’d deserve it.
Then he had another fantasy. After she’d slapped him, they’d look into one another’s eyes. She’d make a mad dive for him. They’d kiss, fall to the floor, then she’d beg him to make love to her.
“Snap out of it,” he ordered himself.
Michael glanced back at her house. She’d pulled her drapes across the window. Did that mean she was on her way over to his house? Was she mad at him? Was she about to call the police? Would he be arrested for being a peeping tom, a pervert? What an awful way to begin life in a new village. Not to mention, embarrassing for Rachel.
“Da, what are you doing looking out the window at night with your binoculars?” He almost jumped out of his skin when Rachel spoke. Michael turned to his daughter who stood in the doorway, wearing her PJs and rubbing her eyes.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
“I couldn’t sleep. My new room seems strange to me.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“But I’m scared. Is there something to be frightened of outside? Is that why you were using the binoculars?” She walked over to him, still rubbing her eyes. She flung her arms around his waist. He patted her head.
“No, sweetie, of course not. I was just looking at the stars. You can see them so much clearer than you ever could in Dublin.”
Heaven help him, what was happening to him? He’d been in Findale no more than a few days and already he’d turned into a pervert watching his neighbor undress while having sexual fantasies about her. If all that wasn’t bad enough, now he was lying to his little girl

Wishing you all Happy Holidays.

Susan Palmquist is a freelance writer/publicist and author of four novels. She’s currently at work at a contemporary romance, a contemporary novella and two historical novellas. Besides blogging at Romance Writers in the Rough, she also writes a monthly blog for Between the Lines and More where she interviews authors and publishers/editors. She is also the new marketing director at Breathless Press. For more information about Susan and her work check out her Web site at


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