Author Spotlight: Leigh Ann Edwards Is Here with the Magic!

We have a winner! Congratulations to Latesha B., you’re Leigh Ann’s giveaway winner. Leigh Ann will be in touch with you. Thanks to everyone for stopping by!

What a treat to welcome friend and fellow Tule author Leigh Ann Edwards back to the Spotlight!

Leigh Ann Edwards’ fascination with history, romance, magic, time-travel and Ireland sparked her interest in creating the Irish Witch Series and her expanding collection of published novels. Growing up in a Manitoban village on the Canadian prairies left lots of time to create stories and let her imagination soar.

An author for thirty years, Leigh Ann is presently writing her fifth series with Tule Publishing. Besides writing, she loves spending time with her four grandchildren, reading, traveling, and doing intuitive readings and reiki. Leigh Ann and her husband, their two cats, one large dog, and a Boston Terrier puppy, live in a small town near Edmonton Alberta, Canada.

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I’m so pleased to be back on Nan’s author spotlight and grateful for her friendship and willingness to help highlight fellow authors’ stories.

Today, I’ll be telling you a little about Highland Dark Magic, book two in my Witch and Demon Hunter series with Tule Publishing. I tend to write long blogs but I’ve decided to try to keep it short since I’m also including an excerpt from the book.

I live in Alberta Canada and although we’ve had an unusually mild winter with little snow, winter can’t seem to make up its mind and evidently isn’t ready to leave us yet. We’ve had lots of wind recently, but there’s been some beautiful, sunshiny warm days, too. The Canada geese have been flying north for weeks. I haven’t spotted a robin yet but some trees had begun to bud and our snow was gone…till last night.

Now the ground is white and the wind and temperatures are bitterly cold…again. We celebrated my elder daughter’s birthday mid-April. Her birthday has seen some really diverse weather through the years from a full-on blizzard to blistering hot temperatures that melted the icing on her birthday cake.

Thankfully, I hadn’t gotten around to getting my snow tires removed because the roads are a mess. I had put away my winter boots and unplugged our electric dog bowl outside, but at least those were an easy fix.

By Sunday it’s supposed to be warm again. With so little snow all winter, we  certainly needed the moisture of this recent snowfall. Last summer our province was plagued with several forest fires so I’m praying for some much-needed rain.

Now, on to the story. In book one of this series, Dark Irish Demon, Fiona Maguire and Lorcan Wright were forced to work together or lose their jobs at LAMB–– the agency that locates and assesses magical beings. They were not open to the partnership––at all.  Besides having a complicated family history, they’re as different as two magical people could be. She is a witch and he’s a half-demon. She loathed his father and a witch once broke his heart.

But now in book two––a few months later, they’ve learned to work together, trust each other, and they’ve become LAMB’s best team. Surprisingly they even like each other. There’s also the unwanted attraction between them that Lorcan continually jokes about and Fiona tries to ignore.

I’ve always loved history so it’s been fun researching and writing this series as time-travel is involved in most of Lorcan and Fiona’s missions.

Highland Dark Magic takes our hero and heroine back to historical Scotland to discover why the ghost of a highlander believes Fiona is his true love. But first they’ll need to deal with a series of other problems including a targeted violent break-in where Fiona lives and a vengeful ancient vampire who’s after Lorcan.

Thanks again, Nan for having me here. I appreciate it very much.

For a chance to win a signed copy of Highland Dark Magic or an e-book copy and an Amazon gift card, tell me have you ever seen/felt a ghost or know someone who has? Or have you been to Scotland?

I’ll start. I haven’t actually seen a ghost, but there was one in a house where I lived for several months. He made his presence clear with some unappreciated pranks like leaving both doors wide open in the middle of winter, turning lights off and on, locking doors, etc. I have been to Scotland twice, in fact my husband and I were married there. I’d love to go back someday. It’s a beautiful country. My author photo was taken in a Scottish keep built here in Canada by a proud Scotsman.

Highland Dark Magic

Powerful witch Fiona Maguire was furious to be assigned a gorgeous, irritating half-demon as partner. But fighting otherworldly creatures together has shown her that Lorcan Wright is a damn good agent, someone she can trust with her life. In fact, he stirs unexpected feelings not appreciated by their new co-agent, the elven-Fae prince she once loved.

Lorcan Wright has never wanted for women, but he has no idea how to be friends with one, especially a work partner as smart, funny, and sexy as Fiona. Watching her with the Elfae prince drives him crazy, and he has no idea what to do about it.

When the ghost of a Scottish highlander appears insisting that Fiona is his beloved, the two are assigned to travel back in time to the historic battlegrounds, find the spirit, and break his hold on her. However, other angry creatures, including a vengeful vampire, threaten the mission before it’s even begun, challenging their partnership like never before.

The two must set aside their feelings and focus on uncovering this ghost’s identity—before highland dark magic traps Fiona in ancient Scotland for all time

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Excerpt

To set up the excerpt: Presently between missions, Fiona and Lorcan meet unexpectedly at Boston’s Opera House while with their dates. The two couples go to dinner at an Italian restaurant and only Lorcan and Fiona peculiarly hear Scottish bagpipes. They’re called in to LAMB headquarters to discover why several highlanders’ ghosts have appeared.

Fiona tugged at her seatbelt. It seemed to be stuck. When Lorcan leaned closer to help her undo it she caught the scent of light cologne, and his natural masculine smell. It sent a shiver through her. Why the hell had she drunk so much wine?

Boston’s spring weather was typically mild. But now after midnight, the breeze from the bay was cool as they walked into LAMB’s large facility. Fiona shivered beneath her shawl. Lorcan took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. Although his chivalry was sweet, she didn’t want his warmth or musky scent near her; but it would be awkward if she gave it back.

“Thanks,” she said, instead.

He smiled and held the door. She could get used to this…if she wasn’t old enough to be his mother. If he wasn’t a notorious womanizer who slept around more than anyone she knew

If she hadn’t just gotten used to being his partner…and if one or both of them wouldn’t end up hurt, humiliated, or grieving should the other be killed…which was highly probable with the dangerous assignments they were given.

And if her adult children imagined for one minute she was even slightly attracted to Lorcan they’d have a damn conniption. They didn’t even know Fiona was a LAMB agent much less that she was partnered with Lorcan.

They had some interesting family connections. Lorcan’s only brother was married to her late best friend Genny’s adopted daughter, Angelique—the witch Fiona had adored since she was a toddler. She’d been delighted to learn Angelique was her biological great-great-granddaughter. With time travel and living in a different century from when you were born, even the most absurd possibilities could prove true.

Plus, Fiona’s daughter Amarra, whom Fiona had cruelly been told had gone into distress during labor and died during a C-section, in truth had been taken from the hospital by Lorcan’s despicable father. He’d raised her as his child. Amarra loved Lorcan as her true sibling and vice versa.

Their families would never understand or accept her attraction to Lorcan.

“You okay?” his deep voice startled her.

He was often perceptive in picking up on her moods.

She only nodded. He pushed the button and they waited for the elevator up to Henry’s office. She was not climbing several flights of stairs in heels. As soon as they stepped into the elevator, Fiona winced and finally pulled off her shoes. She moaned, stepping barefoot on the cool floor.

“I give superb foot massages, Boomer…even better full-body massages. I’d assure a happy ending.”

She rolled her eyes. “I suspect we’ll be a little busy for massages.”

“Rain check?”

She ignored him.

“Ever had elevator sex?”

She crinkled her nose. “Absolutely not!”

“I’d give you a rain check on that, too.” He winked.

She only sighed.

The eerie sound of bagpipes was loud as the elevator doors opened and even more so when they walked through LAMB’s massive facility. Bagpipes were always poignant, and these were especially mournful.

As they approached the corridor outside Henry’s office, she saw several spirits of Scottish Highlanders garbed in kilts and tartans. Lorcan turned away.

“Gruesome?” she asked.

He nodded. He wasn’t squeamish or unaccustomed to gory sights, but he saw spirits as they were at death and felt their trauma. The graphic nature of so many warrior deaths would be overwhelming, as would their pain and torment.

Fiona often sent spirits away to ease his discomfort, but she couldn’t now; she and Lorcan needed to see them to learn what was going on. As the hallway filled with more and more ghosts, Henry peeked out of his office patting his head anxiously.

“Good.” He stepped out. “You’re here. Dewey’s spirit monitor has been registering unusual activity. He claims there’s never been such an influx of spectral visitations in one area.”

“Is our boy genius in his lab?” Lorcan asked.

“Yes. He was here discussing the situation till he learned you were on your way. He’s somewhat wary of you both.”

Lorcan nodded. “Yeah. He’s been avoiding me.”

“He’s especially concerned about seeing you, Ms. Maguire.”

“He should be,” Fiona snapped. “Dewey did dangerously mess with my magic.”

“True, but he was ordered to do it.” Lorcan defended the young scientist.

She threw him a glare. “Easy for you to say, Junior; you weren’t the one drugged, spaced out, travelin’ through time, powerless, and nearly dyin’ of fever.”

“So dramatic, Boomer.” Lorcan attempted a feeble grin, then shot a quick glance at the growing number of spirits. “Bloody hell, why are they here?”

“We suspect this could be a glitch in time,” Henry offered.

“Maybe,” Fiona said. “It’s not exactly a normal occurrence for a few dozen Highlanders’ spirits to show up here.”

Lorcan turned away again. “Not that anything normal is ever found at LAMB.”

Henry eyed him closer. “Are you unwell, Mr. Wright?”

“Can you see them?” Lorcan pointed to the ghostly gathering.

Their boss nodded. “I can’t communicate with spirits, but I’ve seen them all my life. Disturbed my poor mother to no end.”

“He sees dead people.” Lorcan’s voice cracked, ruining the joke.

The air had gotten so cold their breath came out in blasts of visible fog when they spoke.

“Why h-h-here? Why now?” Fiona’s teeth chattered. “This isn’t the right continent, much less the correct time.”

Henry rubbed his arms. “Perhaps a time portal has opened and they’re going through unwittingly.”

“But something must be leading or luring them here,” Lorcan reasoned, shivering, too.

One of the ghostly figures stepped forward, staring intently at Fiona. He said something in a thick Scottish accent. Did he remember her from somewhere? Did her modern clothing confuse him?

“We could find Dickens,” Fiona suggested. “She’s originally from Scotland.”

Eagerly, Lorcan put up his hand. “I’ll get her.”

Dickens was the ancient librarian who worked—and lived—at the LAMB library. She was also a goblin shapeshifter who merely used the form of an elderly woman.

Lorcan turned back. “Boomer, will you be okay?” He tipped his head toward the ghosts.

She shrugged. “They don’t seem inclined to harm anyone.”

Lorcan nodded and started for the elevator. “I’ll be back.” He used a line from a film in an Arnold Schwarzenegger accent. “Hope Dickens doesn’t mind being woken from her beauty sleep.”

The tall ghost dressed as chieftain stepped closer to Fiona. She guessed he was in his early forties, though spectral features made it difficult to tell. Poor diet and hard lifestyles aged people from historic times faster, too.

Fiona whispered a spell of understanding and asked him to repeat his question.

“Do you ken where we are?”

His accent remained broad but she could tell what he was saying now.

“That would be difficult to explain,” Fiona said.

The spirit cocked his head. “You’re Irish?”

“I am.”

Fiona didn’t think she sounded Irish unless she was angry, nervous, or excited. She hadn’t lived in Ireland since she was a girl.

The lines on the spirit’s forehead deepened. “I remember that now…but I cannae seem to recall yer name.”

“I’m Fiona Maguire.”

He twisted his lips, then shook his head. “I dinnae think that’s yer name, and yer soon to become a MacIntire.”

He clearly believed she was someone else.

The specter glanced around. He and the other spirits looked lost. How unsettling to find themselves in another time.

Fiona was also feeling unnerved for the ghostly presence kept multiplying. There must be a hundred Highlander spirits here now.

Henry’s lips were turning blue. “Perhaps we should t-t-take them to a training area. Their presence is making this confined space frigid. Ms. Maguire, would you ask them to follow us?” He pointed to the ghost. “He appears to t-t-trust you.”

Transport spirits? How? In the elevator?

Fiona was seldom adversely affected by ghosts unless they were dark spirits intent on harm, but she didn’t relish being in a small enclosure with this many. Their spectral energy might cause the elevator to malfunction.

She imagined being trapped in an icy elevator with them, dying of hypothermia, and becoming a ghost herself. She shivered again. The alternative was several flights of stairs, and her feet were already aching.

She reached for the ghost’s shoulder, grateful for her ability to physically touch spirits.

“What’s your name, sir?”

He straightened at the title.

“Angus MacIntire. Surely you ken me, my dear?”

She honestly didn’t.

“Why are you here, Angus?”

“I dinnae ken. We were on a battlefield looking out at the mawkit English.” He scowled. “A dark cloud appeared…then…we found ourselves here.”

Angus moved closer lowering his voice. “Can ye help us then, my beloved? Are ye nae a witch? You told me that was so.”

Fiona nearly stumbled backward. If she had ever confided that, she must have trusted him.

Throughout almost all of history, being a witch was not something to admit to or be accused of.  But in historical Scotland, it could be a death sentence—usually tied to a stake and burned alive.

Maybe she and Angus had known one another in a past life. Had these ghosts died just recently? From previous experience Fiona learned when someone was newly deceased it was disorienting. Spirits couldn’t remember much of what occurred. Maybe that was a kindness. Death could be traumatic—the journey itself, of course, but also adjusting to the new state afterward.

She and Lorcan had already earned a reputation as LAMB’s best team. They’d get to the bottom of this supernatural mystery. Magic must be responsible. Dark magic, Fiona suspected.