Hey all,
I'm finally a bit settled here in Montevideo, (More on that on Friday) so I thought I'd do a quick promo for my latest BRAND NEW RELEASE.
I'm so excited to finally have a new Wandering Star release out. The first two stories, What Happened in Mexico and Hustle Into Love started out as FREE BLOG stories that I rewrote, edited and reissued. But this one...this one is the first actual story I've written since Jonathon and I have been on tour with Cirque du Soleil. And since it takes place in Paris, which is one of my favorite cities on the planet, I'm very happy to present this awesome book to my readers.
Enjoy this brief look at Tourjours...Always and as always, please leave a comment!
In
Paris' Ghostly City of the Dead, Two Unlikely Lovers Unravel a Century Old
Curse.
Jana Hayes has a problem. As a professional photographer, she’s used to giving
only her best. Yet every photograph she takes of this certain tomb at Père
Lachaise Cemetery in Paris France, always comes back with a smudge on it. It’s
not her camera—she’s figured that much out—so just what is causing it?
Étienne Bolet has been trapped within the borders of the cemetery for more than
two hundred years, damned to wander between worlds, living a half existence as
he tries to break his curse. Every day he longs to be free from this fearful
existence, but it’s not until Jana appears with her sweet smile and curious
eyes that he wonders if his chance has finally come.
When Jana discovers her “smudge” is an Ethereal entity, she is both terrified
and intrigued. Who is this haunted man whose eyes are filled with pain and
sorrow? Why is she the only one who can see him? And why does Étienne look at
her with such need and desire?
The passionate magic between the two of them burns hot, and they soon discover
it’s only when they give into the feelings between them that they can change
their future forever.
CJ England has done it again. Her
latest book is filled with such heart and you can't help but fall in love with
her characters. Definitely a Recommended Read.
~~~The Romance Librarian
*Excerpt*
She was back again.
He stood near the corner of the sepulcher in the
shadow of the rain-wet trees and watched curiously. By his reckoning, it was
the fourth time she’d visited. She was circling the tomb and muttering darkly
to herself. Every once in a while she would lift her camera and take a picture
then wipe the lens and quickly take another one. While he liked the company, it
made no sense. What was she doing? And why did she keep coming back?
It was easy to tell she was an American. It showed
in her clothing, her bearing, and he’d been around enough of them in the
cemetery to pick up their language. Though what she was saying made no sense to
him. Smudges? Smears? He tried to see the monument through her eyes, but still
couldn’t understand. Yes, the tomb was filthy. Why would a few specific marks
matter to her?
Once, she came so close to him, he could have
touched her—had actually reached out his hand to do so, but at the last minute,
pulled back. Instead he contented himself with just looking at the intriguing
beauty of her face. She was all sunshine and light, her pale hair glowing like
a beacon in the soft springtime sun. She had eyes as blue as the violets that
grew wild among the graves in the cemetery, and her skin was as smooth and
clear as the small pond outside the bedroom window back at his country estate. Her
lips, even turned down in the frown she wore now, were delectable, and he
wished he had the ability to taste them. Just one time.
She was sleek and shapely, her body curved in all
the right places. And in the short skirt she wore, he could admire her long
legs and trim ankles. These styles were one of the things that very much
appealed to him. So much better than the ridiculous, uncomfortable styles worn
by the noblewomen of his century.
He watched as she hefted her camera and made another
round of the sepulcher. How many pictures was she going to take? It seemed to
him she must have enough already. This tomb was of no historical significance. No
one important was buried here. Only a man of noble birth who’d died fighting
for what he believed. A man whose true name wasn’t even the one etched in the
stone lintel above the door. No. He shook his head sorrowfully. That man didn’t even deserve to have his
name remembered.
His eyes narrowed as she let her camera dangle and
standing on tiptoe, traced the carvings on the tomb. “Okay, Marquis,” he heard
her whisper, “so where are you? Are you going to be in these pictures, too?”
He frowned at her words. Pictures? Impossible. How
could she think the Marquis was in her pictures? As he watched, she continued
on with her exploration, sweeping her hands gently over the damp tomb as if it
were a lover. A shudder went through him, and his cold body heated. He couldn’t
help but groan as he thought of how her hands might feel on him.
To his surprise she went utterly still, her head
snapping around, her gaze anxiously searching the shadows where he stood.
He froze as well. Could she have heard him? He shook
his head again. Non, that was another
impossibility. No one had ever heard him before, and God knows he’d tried. Over
and over again throughout the years until he’d finally given up. He was doomed
to this horrific half existence, able to see the living but unable to
communicate with them. A type of Hell even a demon wouldn’t contemplate.
But this girl…this lovely woman with the dreamy eyes
and sweet smile…could she be
different?
Steeling himself against disappointment, he stepped
closer. Cupping his hand, he concentrated, putting everything he had into
touching her. He willed himself to caress her cheek, wishing all the while he
could actually feel the softness of her skin. And he watched, his heart
pounding, as her eyes widened in astonishment, and she shivered uncontrollably.
She’d felt him.
It was a
miracle. Eagerly, he wrapped his ethereal hand around hers. And he smiled as
she looked down at her fingers in unmistakable shock.
“Can you hear me, ma fleur?” he whispered, hoping beyond hope this wasn’t a figment
of his lonely dreams. “Please tell me you can hear my voice as well as feel the
touch of my hand.”
To his joy, she answered him. “It’s you, isn’t it? I-I
know you’re there. I think I felt something…h-heard something. Like a whisper
on the wind. Is it you? Or am I going crazy?”
His eyes narrowed as he gazed down at her. She’d
heard him, yet she hadn’t. Perhaps she was psychic or a sensitive. He’d learned
they were no longer considered witches in this century. Did she have the gift
of sight? Was that why she could sense his presence?
“Are you still there?” she cried, her gaze sweeping
the tomb. “Please don’t go away. Not yet. I want to understand. To truly see
you. You’re in all my pictures of this place, so I know you must be real. Can
you answer me? Will you let me feel you again?”
So that was why she’d returned. Why she continued to
take so many photographs. Somehow his essence…possibly a picture of his spirit
had shown up in her photography.
Another miracle.
Perhaps if he were within the tomb she would truly
be able to see him. That was where she’d been aiming her camera. Quickly, he
stepped back into the doorway, yet still close enough he could touch her.
“I would give up everything I ever owned to let you
feel me…see me,” he said hoarsely, putting all his strength into communicating
with her. He placed both his hands around hers and prayed God would have mercy
on him. “Do not give up, ma fleur.”
There was a long silent moment. Cold touched her
fingers, and Jaina flexed them instinctively in response. She could hear the
trees whispering above her—the slow and steady dripping of midnight’s leftover
raindrops, but other than the quiet songs of the birds, there was nothing else.
Her heart dropped in disappointment.
“I know I heard you,” she whispered. Whirling
around, she paced a few steps away from the cold of the tomb then turned and
stared back into the shadowed depths. “Maybe I am crazy. Maybe my camera is
just dirty, but I could have sworn I heard something. Felt…something.”
Her hands tightened on the camera cord around her
neck. “I can’t leave without knowing for sure. Please, if you’re there, show
yourself to me. I need to see you.”
There was another long silence, and her eyes burned
with unshed tears. “Please, God,” she prayed softly. “If there is something
here…some reason you keep bringing me back to this place, show me. I don’t
believe I’m going crazy, so that means you’ve brought me here for a reason. What
is it?”
At first, her only answer was the breeze rustling
the wet grass at her feet. The shadows within the tomb remained the same. The
cracked stained-glass window a tribute to its forgotten occupant.
Then she saw it. A change in the color of the
shadows. Where darkness had been, now she could see a movement…a slight
swirling of the gloom-filled air. She took several steps back, her throat tight
with a combination of excitement and fear.
The shadow took form and shape. Slowly, so slowly
she thought she might be imagining it at first, but suddenly it was there, in
front of her, and her lips parted in surprise.
It was a man.
*End of Excerpt*
Want more? See how they got to this point by going to the link HERE.
Until Friday,
Hugs to all of you!
CJ England
Follow Your Dreams
http://cjengland.com/wanderingstar/whathappensinmexico.htm
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