Posts Tagged ‘paranormal romance’

Author Linda Nightingale will be signing from 3-4 PM, Saturday, March 8th, at the Blue Willow Salon, 14532 Memorial Drive, Houston, Texas.  Visit _MG_0021 (3)with Linda for giveaways (scented candles, autographed cover flats, etc.) and a sip of Vampire wine!

Her titles in print are Gemini Rising (a dark fantasy with deep psychological undertones), Sinners’ Opera (a paranormal romance) and the latest release, Cardinal Desires, a sexy, suspenseful vampire novel.

Linda has one self-published title, The Night Before Doomsday, available on Amazon for $.99.  This story of the Grigori, the angels who fell because they took wives among their human charges, is a lush read.  The tag line says it all.  “Azazel resisted temptation until the wrong woman came along.”



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Linda Nightingale is celebrating.  Break out the champagne. The final results for the Preditors & Editors Poll are in:

Sinners’ Opera – Top Ten – All Other Novels:

SinnersOperabadge-001 (3)







Cardinal Desires – Top Ten – Best Cover:Cardinalbadge-001 (3)

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Wings_final (2)I have been vacationing from writing for quite awhile.  Life has gotten in the way, and I am now ready to begin a new story.  I only have the characters at the moment, but soon they will begin to tell me their tale, I’m sure.  It is my opinion that writers suffer from MPD!  Hot Spanish Nights, Celestial Sin and On Wings of Desire are still available!  The first two are from The Wild Rose Press and Wings is available in paperback and ebook formats at Double Dragon Publishing.

I hope everyone had a lovely holiday season!

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CarnalDesire-510 (5)Linda Nightingale is giving away an autographed paperback of her paranormal romance, Cardinal Desires!  Before it was published, Cardinal Desires won the Georgia Romance Writers’ Magnolia Award in Mainstream, and no wonder.  Here is what The Romance Reviews had to say:

CARDINAL DESIRES is an intriguing and entertaining story of romance, suspense
and vampires.  The world the author has created is a captivating story with a steady paced plot, vivid details and compelling characters that grab the reader’s attention
and keep it to the very end. The author portrays the characters’ emotions and
personalities with an intensity and clarity that bring them to life, making it
easy for the reader to relate to them. The conflict with the serial killer is
well developed and the author paints the action and suspense with great detail
engaging the reader’s imagination.


Link for Purchase:  http://www.amazon.com/Cardinal-Desires-Linda-Nightingale-ebook/dp/B00FW6HPPK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1387198522&sr=8-1&keywords=Cardinal+Desires

GoodReads Giveaway Link:  http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/74784-cardinal-desires?utm_medium=email&utm_source=giveaway_approved

About Linda:

Born in South Carolina, Linda has lived in England, Canada, Miami, Atlanta and Houston.  She’s seen a lot of this _MG_0021 (3)country from the windshield of a truck pulling a horse trailer, having bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses for thirteen years.  She works in the legal field and has two wonderful sons.  She loves Andalusian and Lusitano horses, her snappy black convertible and her parlor grand piano—and writing, of course.  Visit her at http://www.lindanightingale.com for a free vampire story starring her favorite hero Morgan D’Arcy.  Twitter is @LNightingale, and her blog is http://www.lindanightingale.wordpress.com



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Ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties, and things that go bump in the night — not to mention sexy vampires!

Linda Nightingale’s latest release, CARDINAL DESIRES, is a sexy, suspenseful page-turner from Double Dragon Publishing and available on Amazon.  Take a look at the excerpt on the publisher’s web site.  Soon to be released in print, too.  Take a look at this intriguing cover.

From inside the flap

How can Katy McCaully resist Sterling Fox?  In her early teens, she fell in love with a thirteenth century warrior in a painting, and Sterling is the image of that Novgorodian knight.  He definitely has the keys to her chemistry set, but she mustn’t succumb to his charms.  She’s a forensic psychiatrist working with Scotland Yard.  He’s a high-profile journalist who invades the underworld for a story or broadcasts live at the scene of the world’s worst tragedies.  Police and media do not mix.  They are both trying to capture the animalistic killer the newspapers have dubbed the Vampire Slayer.  Modern London doesn’t know that the Slayer has also killed four vampires.
CarnalDesire-510 (5)  Excerpt:

SCENE:    London Hilton, Present Day.  Katy McCaulley, heroine, is attending a formal charity benefit.

“Trust Morgan to find the most beautiful woman in the room.”

The voice flowed as hot as molten silver.  Katy spun to see who’d spoken.  Dreams, past and present, fused.  Her mind reeled under an onslaught of impossibility.  Her soul did a double back flip.  On her thirteenth birthday, Katy had fallen hopelessly in love with a man in a painting.  On the canvas, medieval knights, armed with mace and sword, mounted on massive horses battled on a frozen lake.

The breathing replica of her warrior invaded her comfort zone.  “I swear he’s a divining rod.” A laugh, rich, magical.  “Where there are beautiful women, you’ll find Morgan.”

Rarely did one see a face of such striking beauty, but there was nothing weak or effeminate about her warrior.  In white tie and tails, not armor, he was the epitome of svelte strength.  She itched to touch him, make sure he was real.

“I suppose I must introduce my friend.”  Morgan clapped her warrior on the shoulder.  “Sterling Fox.  Dr. Katy McCaully.”

“Good evening, Katy.”  His eyes were wicked, emerald green.

His name suited him perfectly.  Sterling was six-and-a-half feet of shimmering energy.  Silver blond hair fell in gentle waves to his collar. The tucked formal shirt enhanced a broad chest.  Powerful arms sculpted the sleeves of his jacket.  Struck dumb but not blind, her gaze traveled down his body, savoring the length of his legs to the tips of patent leather shoes.  The journey was a banquet for the senses.

Gentle laughter jerked her gaze back to his face.  The rhapsody of sound and light around them seemed unreal.  The touch of his hand was impossibly real.  Intelligence fell victim to awe.

Katy shook her head.  “You…you…”

Fate was having a good laugh at her expense.  She was never speechless, and here she was stammering, blushing like a wallflower at a high school dance.

“Me?”  He arched an eyebrow, dismissed his formal attire with a wave of his free hand.  “Tuxedos are totally out of character.  I’d rather be in jeans at a Rod Stewart concert.”

The pianist had fluttered her pulse, but this long, cool drink of water named Sterling Fox made her romantic heart thirst.  The man who’d shot her poise to hell was probably ten years younger.  He was handsome, fully aware of his effect on women and knew precisely how to play the game.  In two thudding heartbeats, Katy resolved never to dangle on his sterling chain of hearts.  As if she had no interest in him, she scanned the crowd.

Like a physical blow, a painful realization struck her.  “Sterling Fox, the Night Fox?”

This renowned journalist made her feel positively sexy and she loved his hands—custom-made for loving, not penning true-to-horrible life works.  “I’ve read your articles; wondered what kind of man would disappear into a Colombian cartel to profile the inner workings of a drug lord. You’re nothing like I pictured.”

“Disappointed?”  His voice was hot enough to endanger the ice sculpture on the hors d’oeuvre table—and to melt Katy.

Two tectonic plates collided deep inside.  Sparks?  The man was a bloody sparkler.  Hell, he was an arsenal of fireworks.  Her rabid hatred of the media suddenly seemed unjust.


To celebrate, Linda is giving away a download of Cardinal Desires to a commenter on her blog at:  http://lindanightingale.wordpress.com/

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Until August 20th, you can enter to win a print copy of Linda Nightingale’s paranormal romance, Sinners’ Opera.  The book is getting super reviews.  Here’s the link:


sinners20 (2)Excerpt:

Chapter 1 – Sangreal

Charleston, South Carolina, May 29th


“Dear Lord,” a woman called to heaven, “such a young man.  So near death.  What could have happened to you?”

My body was one long, cold ache, but a hot center throbbed in my chest.  Wet and shivering, I craved only sleep and the blackness that held me.

Sirens wailed to a crash of thunder.  Somewhere, someone was in trouble.

I drifted on the ebb and flow of pain until the woman gave me a gentle shake.  Forcing my eyes open, I blinked to focus on the indistinct shapes materializing from fog.  Rainbow angels battled demons in a stained glass window.  Marble statues leered at me from the shadows.  An ornate crucifix cast its silhouette on the ebony saint bent over me.  Her countenance was round and full, her nose broad.  Pity glistened in her dark eyes.

“You’re awake.”  A smile trembled on her lips.  “Thank you, Jesus.”

She seemed to be in close communication with the man on the cross.  My upper body rested on her lap, my legs stretched on a shiny wooden floor.  Lush breasts cradled my head.  Her red blouse smelled of fresh baked bread, the tiny pearl buttons mesmerizing.

“I do declare you had me worried; you been so still-like.”

Her thick dialect called to me from the past, but I didn’t know if it was yesterday or years ago.  I don’t know who I am.  I frowned, trying to remember.  A trill of music scrolled through my mind.  The woman gave a tentative smile.  I started to smile back, but the scent of fear distracted me.  My clothes reeked of fear.

Another fragrance—dusky red and delicious—sent a shiver through me.  The rich aroma of her blood appealed to me on levels I didn’t understand.  The sensation was raw hunger mingled with passion.  Beyond the blood-scent, the musk of old wood and incense, the perfume of religion, summoned a vision of a blond boy in blue velvet and white lace kneeling at an altar.  As I grasped at the memory, like a wave retreating from the shore, something important slipped away from me.

The woman’s admiring gaze drifted over my face.  I wanted to touch her, tell her how much…how very much…I ached to kiss her black satin throat, but when I tried to lift my hand nothing happened.  Terrified, I glanced at my hands.  The bleached fingers were curled into dead claws.  The hands once considered magic and beautiful were horrible.

Panic drew my knees toward my chest.  “Oh, God, my hands can’t be paralyzed.”

The blow was physical, knocking the breath from me.  If I’d been struck blind, even deaf, I could still play, but if my hands were paralyzed—I was lost.  Music was my beloved mistress.  My piano alone stood between madness and me.

My companion shook her head, refusing to meet my wild-eyed gaze.  “Shush now, you going to be all right.  Mother Superior’s gone to call for help.”

“Mother Superior?”  Was I lying in a nun’s lap?  I was in a church, and that seemed totally absurd for some reason, but I was too terrified to laugh.  Crisp dark curls peeked from beneath a blue bandana, not a wimple.  “You’re not a nun.”

She stiffened as if I’d offended her.  “I come help the sisters out.  I might be a nun some day.”

The woman’s expression softened.  Lips pursed, she shook her head, dark eyes sad.  Her pity mortified me.  No one, since I’d been that boy in velvets and lace, had seen me cry.  Swallowing tears, I squeezed my eyes closed.  The other feelings she excited, I couldn’t deal with now.  She stroked my cheek, and I remembered to breathe but refused to open my eyes.  I couldn’t bear the sight or the scent of her.

An internal map—an anatomical image of flesh, muscles and veins—spread across my eyelids.  Hours, days, years might have passed, but it was probably only a moment or two.  Tingling needled my numb arms, swept into my fingertips, relaxing the ugly claws.  Holding my breath, afraid to hope, I willed my right hand to lift, felt the sensation of movement and opened my eyes.  The hand rose, hovered, flopped on my abdomen.  Dried blood crusted a jagged hole in my black velvet coat.  Fresh blood warmed the center of the wound.

Ah, another shade of the dusky red fragrance.  My blood possessed a wild bouquet, almost feral, and completely different from the woman’s blood.


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sinners20 (2)Welcome, Morgan, to Musings.  You’re quite the handsome man…tall, blonde and blue-eyed.  I just love men with long hair.  Well, anyway, on with the interview.  Have a seat and let me ask you my questions:

What is your greatest temptation:

In women:   All of them!  I love women to a fault.  I am a vampire and women fire all my senses.  Now, I am trying to be a good boy and focus my attentions on my beloved Isabeau and not finding it the challenge one of my kind would have expected.

In food:   Blood straight up, no ice.

In clothes:   The wardrobe on my profession is the tuxedo.  At my country estate in Devon, I relax into tweeds and sweaters or riding gear.  I’m an avid horseman.

What is your greatest weakness (example: buying shoes)?  Women are my greatest weakness…and necessarily blood.

If you could have any kind of car, what would it be?  I have the car I would drive, and Aston Martin Vanquish—black on black convertible—but I miss the candy apple red Jaguar XKE that drowned in Charleston’s Cooper River.

Your dream home – mountains or ocean?  Both.  I quite like Asheville, NC for mountains but my ancestral estate, Royal Oak, in Devonshire, England overlooks the ocean that batters its towers.

Who is your favorite historical figure?  Me. No, seriously, my friend and king, Charles II, whom I followed into exile after the English Civil War when usurper robbed England

Your story?

Our story belongs to Isabeau and me:

Morgan Gabriel D’Arcy is a classical pianist, an English lord and a vampire.  He has everything except what he desires most—a woman he has loved from the day she was born—Isabeau.

For centuries, he has cherished a dream—a race of immortal crossbreeds possessing vampire strength and human morals.  Ambition is not his most important motivation.  Love is.  When Isabeau, his chosen bride, was a child, he appeared to her as an angel and watched over her.  As the Angel Gabriel predicted, Isabeau is now a brilliant geneticist.  She has come of age, and Morgan is determined to marry her.  However, many forces oppose them, not the least of which is Vampyre law.  The Vampyre are viral mutations produced by a blood-borne pathogen that alters human DNA.  Mating between human and Vampyre is prohibited.  The offspring—

DarkeChildren—inherit a dangerous gene that drives them insane at puberty.

An enemy from Morgan’s distant past is stalking him. Paul d’Alembert seeks eye-for-an-eye justice, intending to kill Isabeau as once Morgan killed his beloved.  In fact, his enemies are rapidly closing in on them.  Will Morgan have time and an opportunity to make his dream come true—to sire a child on Isabeau?  Will he outsmart his enemies, protect her and escape death himself?  For the first time in eternity, the clock is ticking.


For almost four hundred years, I’ve witnessed miracles of technology and the political wars that reshaped the world’s destiny.  I’ve seen much to hate and a great deal worthy of forgiveness.  I was born May 29, 1632, the only son of the Earl of St. Averil and his Lady Ilsabeth de Gueraint D’Arcy.  He died at the Battle of Naseby fighting with Charles I.  My mother died alone in 1685.  By that time, an unnaturally long youth had forced me to fake my own death for the first time.  I watched from afar, unable to attend her funeral.

Yesterday, I was a celebrated pianist.  I learned my art on the harpsichord from an Austrian genius named Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.  Later, I studied with Liszt, Ravel and Debussy.  From the Duke of Newcastle then the Frenchman de la Gueriniere, I learned classical horsemanship.

Tonight, I am a wanted man.  Mortal justice would hang me for a crime I did not commit.  My brethren wish to destroy me for a crime I committed with willful intent.

It all began in December, a brief six months ago.  Actually, my saga began in 1659 before the restoration of Charles II, but that’s another story…

This is our story—Isabeau’s and mine—our Folie à deux.


Sinners’ Opera is available in print and ebook formats from Double Dragon Publishing and Amazon.    New York Journal of Books gave Morgan’s and Isabeau’s story a great review:

Sinners’ Opera is a beautifully written love story with vivid imagery, dry humor, sarcastic wit, and sensuous love scenes. The descriptions of Charleston bring that city to life. It’s also a fascinating journey through the psyche of a man who’s lived through the centuries but is now willing to die for the woman he loves and to bring his kind into the light of the mortal’s world.

And thereby hangs this tale of love, deception, murder, and revenge.”  READ ENTIRE REVIEW.


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