Author Spotlight: Leigh Ann Edwards Is Here with a Word about Her Upcoming Series and a Giveaway!

It’s always fun to welcome fellow Tule Publishing author, Leigh Ann Edwards to the Spotlight. Her books are filled with paranormal wonder and such fabulous romantic fantasy. She’s here with a sample of her current WIP–you’re gonna be hooked!

Leigh Ann writes smoking hot romantic fantasy with badass heroines, alpha heroes, history, castles, and magic. She believes love is love, that villains should get their comeuppance (sometimes with a stake through the heart), that pleasure is NOT a four-letter word, and that “dog” is another word for “joy.”

Don’t let her gentle appearance fool you; this grandmother of four ditched a sad story and is now enjoying her happily-ever-after with the love of her life in north central Alberta, Canada. Her heroines don’t need to be rescued but they’ll gladly work with a competent partner to right the wrongs of whatever world they inhabit.

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Happy Halloween!

It’s lovely to be back on your author spotlight, Nan. Thanks for always being so welcoming. I think this might be my first visit that doesn’t coincide with a book release. I’m almost smack-dab in the middle of when my last series ended in March and when the new one will begin next April.

I’ve recently sent  the manuscript for The Witch and the Gatekeeper to my amazing developmental editor, Roxanne. I’m looking forward to her insight.

It’s the first in the four book Daughters of the Witches of Time Series. This is a sequel to my debut series, The Irish Witch and the next one, The Witches of Time.

What better week than Halloween to talk about an upcoming romantasy/time travel/ adventure series filled with magic, witches and ghosts?

I hope readers will be as thrilled as I’ve been to return to sixteenth century Ireland where my stories first began. The heroine, Eilis (pronounced eye-lish) O’ Brien, is the eldest daughter of Alainn and Killian O’Brien, the much-loved couple from the original Irish Witch series.

It has been lots of fun creating new characters and revisiting old favorites. Also, skipping ahead to when Alainn and Killian are in their mid to late forties, has been interesting.  As chieftain, besides residing over the chiefdom, Killian trains warriors and castle guards. Alainn balances being a healer and a mother of eight.

Eilis O’Brien, aged twenty-one, is a healer. She’s sweet, optimistic, easy-going, cheerfully talkative, and an empathetic soul.  A people pleaser for reasons that become apparent, she hides what she perceives as her unfavorable traits.

Like her mother, Eilis is also an air witch with powerful supernatural abilities, yet she has largely hidden them. Her parents preferred that their children experience a somewhat normal life. They also fear dark entities will learn of her magic which could cause disastrous results.

Eilis is hopelessly in love and has been having a secret love affair with one of her father’s castle guards for some time. He worries their class difference will prevent them from a future together.

Cian Rafferty––Raff to his friends––is quiet and serious, having endured many challenges before coming to Castle O’Rorke. He’s worked his way up the ranks as a castle guard and become a revered champion warrior. His life has finally turned around. And he could lose it all if the chieftain learns he’s romantically involved with his daughter.

Cian cares deeply for Eilis, but won’t propose marriage, despite her insistence that her parents wouldn’t object. He’s accustomed to keeping secrets. No one here knows he’s a gatekeeper of portals that lead to other realms. He’s presently trying to escape that dreaded fate.

Another key part of this series are the friendships that develops between the four young witches–– the daughters of the witches of time. They’re from the same blood line but live in various time periods. Through a mystical mirror Eilis discovers in a secret chamber of Castle O’ Rorke, her family’s ancestral home, they’re able to see and communicate with each other.

Talk about video chats with a magical twist!

The next three books will feature the other witches of time’s eldest daughters.

It has been interesting creating these four young women.  Discovering how the dynamics between the friends living in different time periods plays out, has also been fun.

The Witch and the Gatekeeper releases April 14/26. Therefore, with release day still months away, I don’t have a cover design or an actual blurb, but I’m including this graphic.

The first scene takes place at a village market. The castle in the background isn’t located as close as this looks, but I wanted to include the castle.  The hourglass depicts the relevance of time to the series.

This book has several tropes: forbidden romance, opposites attract, class difference, reluctant hero, and magical artifacts.

As always, I’ve enjoyed chatting about my latest stories. Thanks again, Nan for being a dear supportive friend.

I hope to be back in April to talk more about my new series. I’ll leave you with an excerpt. (Keep in mind this hasn’t been professionally edited yet.)

 GIVEAWAY! For a chance to win a signed print copy of The Farrier’s Daughter, book one in The Irish Witch Series or The Witch’s Awakening, the first book in the sequel series, The Witches of Time, tell me your favorite book trope.

THE WITCH AND THE GATEKEEPER

CHAPTER ONE

Ireland 1564

As a witch, Eilis O’Brien is well acquainted with magic, yet even for her there was something magical about market days. The familiar sounds made her smile. Children’s laughter, murmurs of numerous conversations, the steady trundling of horses and carts. Always, at least one persistent dog barked hoping for a handout from the soft-hearted butcher, and further down the lines of vendor stalls someone merrily played a fiddle.

People from their chiefdom and this seaside Irish village seldom missed Saturday markets. Visiting with friends and neighbors to hear the latest news and local gossip was as elemental to this popular venue as perusing the various items offered. Breads, sweet and savory pies, freshly harvested seasonal fruits, vegetables, and grains, along with meat, fish, seafood, spices, pottery, jewelry, and a variety of fabrics could be purchased or bartered for here.

However, Eilis and her mother, Alainn, both healers, weren’t peddling wares…or gossiping. They provided services to those who couldn’t or wouldn’t go to the healing chamber at their castle. Some were too infirmed to walk the distance. Others refused largely because of Castle O’ Rorke’s infamous hauntings. Tales had been exaggerated but it was indeed haunted by a good many spirits, including Eilis’s great-grandfather, Niall O’Rorke. In life he’d been a Druid chieftain.

Smells of roasting meat, fresh bread, and cinnamon blended with the pungent odors wafting from the seafood and fishmonger’s stands near the docks to create a scent she’d come to associate with market days. The earthy smell of fallen leaves was also rife on the air.

Late afternoon sunshine warmed her back as Eilis hummed to herself, content. Her fingers hovered over a basket of healing supplies; she selected burn balm and bandages. No matter how engrossed she was with her tasks, the bustling market made her mirthful.

The laugh-like chatter of seagulls made her look up. White feathers shimmered against a brilliant deep blue autumn sky as the carefree birds glided on the ocean breeze. Like her, they favored this fine early October weather. She was grateful her parents nurtured an appreciation of nature and of finding joy in life’s simple wonders.

Eilis was presently attending Domhnall, the baker’s apprentice–– also his nephew or the accident-prone man would’ve been dismissed long ago. He’d incurred a sizeable burn. Yet, he barely flinched when she dabbed the cooling remedy on his blistered palm, then wrapped the bandage. Either his pain tolerance was high, or he hoped to appear brave to impress her. She fought a grin. He was more intent on flirting with her than hearing how to ensure the burn didn’t fester.

Her mother stood nearby stitching Tommy Boyne’s foot. The little boy stepped on a shard of pottery broken when he’d knocked a pitcher off a vendor’s table. While her mother carried the distraught child away, Eilis had picked up the shattered pieces, cheerily calming the displeased potter. She’d well-compensated him for the damage so he wouldn’t growl at the boy or take it up with his overwhelmed mother. The woman had fifteen children including newborn twins.

Eilis remembered bygone days when her mother offered healing, and she and her siblings closest to her age, ran about happily weaving through the vendor stalls. If they’d disturbed anything Eilis usually employed magic preventing breakage.

Her mother turned from her suturing to smirk at Eilis, playful. She sent a telepathic message.

“Do you s’pose Domhnall’s so smitten he purposely burned himself to make time with you, Leanbh Inine?” That was the pet name her parents gave her. Irish Gaelic for baby girl.

Even as their eldest living child with seven younger including two other daughters, the fond endearment remained hers alone. The term warmed her heart despite her siblings sometimes chaffing her about it.

As to her mother’s comment. Eilis had seen the baker’s nephew the previous market day to have a splinter removed. And the one prior regarding a broken toe after dropping a pan. Momma sometimes good-naturedly teased her of the many lads who waited to have Eilis see to their sometimes-feigned maladies.

It was both useful and humorous conversing with her mother through telepathy. Of the O’Brien children, only she’d inherited that and numerous other maternal magical abilities. Her siblings had fewer notable capabilities, but Eilis was a gifted healer and air witch like Alainn.

“I do hope not,” Eilis gave an involuntary shudder replying in the same manner. “I wouldn’t suffer a burn for anyone.”

Momma grimaced. Eilis also had her distinct fear of fire.

They both turned when beyond the village gates horses’ hooves and boisterous shouts of ‘welcome home’ were heard.

Eilis touched her fluttering stomach. The competitors who’d taken part in the tournament in Munster, the neighboring county, had returned. Judging by the enthusiastic crowd, they’d made a good showing. Her father and brother were amongst the men returning after the contests. Eilis’s heart quickened. For best of all…her man would be back.

 Even if she couldn’t openly claim Cian Rafferty as hers.

          Her lovely mother smiled, radiant. After better than two and a half decades of loving one another, her parents remained like newlyweds. Eilis longed for a love like that.

One that didn’t have to be hidden.

She glanced toward the street where several enlivened people along with wives and sweethearts hurried to greet the two dozen men on horseback. As they rode through the village gates, a parade of eager well-wishers accompanied them surely having tagged along seeing the men on the road.

Her father, Killian O’ Brien, chieftain of Clan O’ Rorke, led the way. Still fine, tall, and attractive in his late forties, was widely respected. Once champion of three counties, he was still a stalwart warrior. Although he seldom competed any longer, he was responsible for training his castle guards and all tournament competitors.

Her brother Ian–– short for Killian–– was following in his footsteps at only seven and ten years. But, as usual, it was Cian Rafferty––Raff to his friends––who wore the largest, shiniest medallion around his neck. It glistened in the sun. That golden badge indicated he was overall tournament champion. A high honor applauded by everyone.

The men loudly sang his praises, already recounting the thrilling bouts that led to his victories. His comrades and admirers who’d gathered in the street pulled Raff off his horse, then hoisted him above the crowd on their shoulders. Knowing him as she did, with his quiet demeanor, she noted he appeared uncomfortable at their adulation.

She tried not to look too long or too longingly at Raff. Sending Domhnall off with instructions for wound care helped her ignore her beloved as best she could. Grinning back at her, Domhnall nearly tripped over his own feet walking away. Perhaps he was smitten, but he also lacked coordination.

When they finally set Raff to his feet, they congratulated him and the others who’d taken part, with claps on the back and punches on the arms. Men were a peculiar bunch in how they showed affection toward one another, Eilis thought.

She poured an astringent over her hands, then dried them on a clean rag. Her father glanced in their direction and beamed. Her mother’s eyes brightened. Eilis smiled at their obvious love.

“Go to him, Momma.” She nudged her. “I’ll finish here.”

“You’re a gem, darlin’ girl.” Her mother patted her shoulder then handed the threaded needle to Eilis. Little Tommy wasn’t bothered about the change of healers. Her mother had given him a honey cake and whispered a calming spell.

After dismounting, her father dropped his steed’s reins. There on the cobbled street her parents hastened toward one another embracing affectionately despite the crowd of onlookers. They were like young lovers who’d not seen each other in months, and not longtime spouses parted only a fortnight.

Though God’s blood…it had seemed an insufferably long time since she’d been in Raff’s arms.

She sighed, bemoaning that she couldn’t rush to him and express her gratitude of his safe return or congratulate him on his victory. Resentment stirred within her. Still, she took a breath, resuming her always ready smile.

“Almost done, Tommy,” Eilis told the child. She cut the thread, secured a bandage around the wound and helped him put on his timeworn, now damaged shoe. She ran her finger along the slash, magically mending it, then gave him another honey cake.

“There’s a brave lad.” She tapped his head. “Come back next market day. Momma or I will remove the stitches.”

He nodded, cheeky. “Will I get another honey cake?”

“Perhaps two.” She winked.

“Thank you, Lady Eilis. Now I must go see Leinster’s finest warriors.” He limped off smiling.

“Isn’t the tournament champion to receive a kiss from the fairest lass in the land?” Eilis’s brother called loud enough that all would hear, but probably mostly for her benefit.

She glanced up to see Ian and Raff looking at her, though Raff was discreet. He’d become proficient in that.

Several bold young women offered agreement of the consideration of being kissed by him. Raff was by far the most handsome and presumably eligible man in this or any other chiefdom. That wasn’t only Eilis’s opinion because she was hopelessly in love with him. Nearly every woman, married or unwed looked at the tall, brawnily built Cian Rafferty with admiration––sometimes blatant desire.

Presently second guard of her father’s entire battalion and working his way to be commander, he was also Leinster’s champion, now the third year running. Numerous women would give much for the honor of kissing him. Or more.

“Who would determine that?” Eilis’s father asked, “for the fairest woman in my eyes is my lady and you’ll not be kissin’ her, no matter how well you did in the tournament, lad!”

He also patted Raff on the back. Her father was fond of him and held him in high esteem for his trustworthiness and humility–– even more than his prowess as a warrior.

Cheeks aflame, Raff tugged an unruly tuft of hair from his eyes. An unpretentious man, he never gloated no matter his unrivaled standings in weaponry competitions.

Tyrone, the previous champion, constantly expected fanfare. His arrogance eventually led to her father dismissing him which caused animosity. He still resided in the area but was affiliated with a neighboring chiefdom.

Even now Tyrone stood across market square scowling, doubtlessly jealous of the attention Raff was getting.

“I s’pose you could kiss Lady Eilis.” Ian jabbed Raff with his elbow. “For she looks much like our mother, save having Da’s green eyes.”

“You want him to kiss your sister?” another man who’d taken part in the games asked.

If her parents and brother weren’t here, she suspected there’d be bawdier comments made. Yet her father’s men were typically respectful of her, the chieftain’s daughter, despite the general belief that there must be something wrong with her not to have married yet.

Looking her way, Tryone sneered. In the past he’d tried to ingratiate himself with her.  He wasn’t physically unattractive, but at several years older, with his self-important personality, she hadn’t been interested.  Still, he once attempted to kiss her and was disbelieving when she thwarted his advances. She’d kneed him in the ballocks when he also evidently presumed she’d want him to squeeze her breast. When he was capable of speaking again, he’d called her an offensive name.

He’d been furious when her father no longer welcomed him as a clansman. The affront stung for Tyrone’s family was also noble born. Eilis suspected he thought it was a result of how he’d pursued her, but she hadn’t told her father about his forwardness or his boorish attitude following the incident. In her eyes her father had few faults, however, he was too protective of her.

Tyrone behaved like he was doing her a gratitude showing interest. She’d not yet been wed despite being past the age most women were promised or proposed to. In previous years her father had been approached by several men requesting her hand, but she’d always declined.

Thankfully, he hadn’t pushed her into marriage. Most chieftains saw their daughters as pawns in gaining political strongholds or securing clan alliances.

Many were of the opinion at the ripe old age of one and twenty, Eilis was unmarriageable–– destined to remain under her parents’ roof.

Previously Eilis made excuses of being too young or not fancying those who’d asked to wed her. In truth, after Raff arrived when she was five and ten and he four years older, she could think of no man, bar him. She was afforded some grace. Like a nun, dedicated to serving the lord, some presumed a life of healing was her selfless fate. Yet lately she’d begun to yearn for what Momma had achieved––being a renowned healer, but also a loving wife and mother. Raff would be uneasy if he knew.

In the beginning he’d barely look her way. It was a full year before he’d meet her eyes. His rough upbringing made him deem noble born as people to bow to respectfully. However, going by the snippets she’d learned of his history––they hadn’t earned respect.

The strong silent type unless wholly comfortable with you, even then Raff was a man of few words. She’d poured her heart out to him. Told him her aspirations and secrets. Confided in him about her magic. Occasionally he’d reveal the briefest recollection of his past. She was grateful but hoped one day he’d speak of all he’d been through. He sometimes joked that she did enough talking for them both.

“You’d best ask Lady Eilis if she’d even care to kiss our champion,” Roland, another of her father’s guards said, a glint in his eye as he looked at her. He was Raff’s best friend and other than Ian, the only person who knew of their secret relationship.

Eilis began placing supplies in a basket since anyone who required healing had been seen or left to greet the returned men. She pretended to be mostly uninterested in the conversation till she looked up and saw all eyes upon her.

“I’m not opposed to kissin’ the victor,” she said, finally.

Though having my brother advocate for that seems a trifle desperate.

Raff couldn’t get out of this now without insulting her, but his tight jaw belied his discomfort. He worried incessantly about them being found out.

“If you aren’t keen, Raff, sure you must be blind,” Will, another tournament participant jested. “You can kiss me anytime, Lady Eilis. I placed third.” He proudly pointed to his smaller medallion.

Ian captured second-place honor.

“If you’d like to offer Raff a congratulatory kiss, Eilis, so be it,” her da said, “the rest of you… mind you keep your distance from our daughter.”

Her mother smiled. Eilis wondered if through magical perceptiveness she suspected anything romantic between her and Raff. Yet as close as she and her mother were, neither had mentioned it. As far as she knew her parents kept no secrets from each other. Eilis shouldn’t like her da to find out lest he reacted as unfavorably as Raff presumed he would.

She took a breath, straightened her frock’s apron, then brushed wisps of hair behind her ear, surely unattractive after working loose from her plait. She crossed the cobblestone street to where her parents stood with the others. Her father hugged her.

“Good to see you, Leanbh Inine,” he said.    

          She kissed his cheek and leaned into his loving embrace. He was one of her favorite people. Eilis was lucky to have an enviable relationship with both parents.

“And you, Da,” she replied. “We’ve all missed you much. I hope you were pleased of your time away.”

“It was enjoyable. The tournament went well for our men, and it was good to visit with family. Though glad I am to be home.” He smiled at her mother again.

When Eilis embraced her brother he tugged her braid–– his mischievous way of offering her affection.

“If you’re kissin’ our victor, don’t keep him waitin’ all day.” Ian gave her a gentle shove. “Everyone will want to share a drink with the tournament champion. The casks at The Bottomless Cask better be bottomless.”

Now only an arm’s length away Eilis looked up into Raff’s whiskey-colored eyes and her knees went weak. She lifted her chin hoping to appear somewhat standoffish. She couldn’t react to his close proximity in the presence of all these people.

Was he fighting the same emotions? He smiled making him even more appealing although it wasn’t the sensual grin reserved for her when they were alone. He took a step toward her.

Her breath caught. Her skin tingled. Her heart pitter-pattered. She fought the urge to fling herself into his arms, to touch his stubbled jaw and run her fingers through his hair. To feel his lips on hers and share a lingering kiss. She nearly emitted a desirous sigh.

Don’t let your feelings be known. How often she had to steel herself when in his company. She inhaled the delicious muskiness of his scent though an unusual, sweet smell roused her curiosity.

“Lady Eilis.”  He bowed, respectful…cool.

He wouldn’t take her in his arms knowing she’d melt against his body. Instead, he placed his large, calloused hands on her shoulders, lowered his delectable broad lips and gave her the briefest, surely least passionate kiss ever.

Her father, with a side glance, even seemed surprised at the short duration of the brush of his lips against hers. The men booed, goading him for the tepid kiss. Again, Raff’s cheeks turned ruddy.

Ian snorted. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph and their wee donkey. You kissed her like she was your sister.”

Or his grandmother, Eilis thought. The villagers would fear she had the plague as well as thinking she was a witch.

“Sure, he received ample kisses from the besotted Munster maidens after the tournament.” Roland laughed.

Raff’s friend liked to stir the shite.

“The brothel strumpets rewarded the victors with considerably more…” another participant began, but Raff’s intimidating scowl stopped the man from elaborating.

She bristled. Brothels were a point of contention on many levels. The disquieting smell on him she’d been unable to pinpoint was a fragrance used by harlots.

“Enough.” Her father’s raised hand prevented further discussion. But when she glimpsed at Raff, she saw unmissable guilt in his eyes. His face further flushed under her accusatory gaze.

Her heart raced. Again, she had to appear unaffected.

“Sure, you’d better rest then after your eventful night and long journey,” she managed, aware she sounded short.

“Or continue celebratin’ your win.” Roland gestured toward the tavern.

Raff nodded. “Aye. Soon enough.”

Forcing a smile, Eilis started back to their market location, now uneasy wondering what Raff had gotten up to while away. He was hiding something.