Author Spotlight: Leigh Ann Edwards Is Here!

We have a winner! Congratulations, bn100, you are Leigh Ann’s giveaway recipient. I’m sorry I don’t know your name, but I will pass your email info on to Leigh Ann and she will be in touch with you. Thanks to everyone for stopping–we love our readers and depend on you to keep the Author Spotlight going! 

I’ve had so much fun with Leigh Ann Edwards’s Maidens of the Mystical Stones books, haven’t you? I’m sad to see it end, but delighted for Leigh Ann’s success with this wonderful series! She’s here today with the last book in the series, Fate’s Final Season, where she wraps up the series and brings all the maidens their happily-ever-afters. It releases today, so be sure click the buy links to nab your copy!

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

An author for nearly thirty years, Leigh Ann has almost completed writing her fourth series with Tule Publishing and will soon begin a fifth. Besides writing, Leigh Ann loves spending time with her four grandchildren, reading, traveling, doing intuitive readings and reiki. Leigh Ann and her husband, their two cats, one large dog and their Boston Terrier puppy, live near Edmonton Alberta, Canada.

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Leigh Ann, take it away…

Thank you so much, Nan, for always graciously welcoming me to your blog. I appreciate our friendship and your continued assistance in helping me and other authors promote our books.

I’m thrilled for the release of Fate’s Final Season but admit, I’m less prepared than usual. Life’s been hectic lately.

Prior to a book release there’s always lots to do–– writing blogs, preparing questions and giveaways, ordering and distributing print copies, and making sure promotional graphics are seen all over social media. I’m not especially tech-savvy, therefore, I don’t do the same level of promoting as some authors. (I should take a lesson from Nan.)

I’m delighted and grateful that Tule Publishing continues to accept my series proposals and lets me tell some of the stories rattling around in my head.

A busy release schedule can be daunting, but I love having new books published regularly. Not only is writing my passion, next to family time… and maybe travelling, it’s what I like doing best of all. I’m also counting on it to help support my husband and me in our golden years. Typically energetic, hubby helps out lots around the house, yard, and with our four pets. However, he’s been quite sick all summer. With doing his chores as well as my own, I appreciate even more just how much he does.

Fate’s Final Season is the fifth and last book in my Maidens of the Mystical Stones series. The first, Autumn’s Magical Pact, released September 26/22 so I’ve had five 90,000+ word books published in one year–– an accomplishment I’m proud of. To quote my amazing editor, Roxanne. “You’ve worked your ass off with this series, Leigh Ann, and deserve every bit of kudos coming your way.” That made me very happy. I’m pleased ARC reader reviews have been great, too!

For those who’ve read previous blog posts, you might recall the premise of this series but here’s a refresher. A medieval village near Stonehenge–– four young women from very different backgrounds–– a healer, a harlot, a castle worker, and a princess, become unlikely friends.

All facing undesired futures, the four meet one last time. During the conversation they admit they envy each other’s fate. A mysterious old crone appears offering them a magical opportunity to live one season in each friend’s life. Rhianwyn’s wary, but Selena, Elspeth, and Lilliana convince/coerce her and they agree to the pact.

In this last installment readers learn the many ramifications caused by that momentous decision.

I promise the story isn’t all sad or heavy. There’s lots of humor, tender moments, steamy love scenes, beautiful scenery, castles, knights, mystical creatures, strong heroines, and chivalrous heroes. Check out the Excerpt below for a sneak peek at Fate’s Final Season.

I’m happy to be writing a new five book series for Tule. The Witch and Demon Hunter series is another fantasy/paranormal series but with less romance and more mystery and adventure. I hope to be back on Nan’s blog in early March. Book one, Dark Irish Demon, is scheduled to release on February 29, 2024. Yay, a Leap Year book!

Now, I should get back to my writing. The mid-October deadline isn’t far off. Plus, I have outside chores to do. I tend to put off emptying the flower planters. It’s a reminder that our long, cold Canadian winter is just around the corner.

GIVEAWAY!

For a chance to win a signed print copy of Fate’s Final Season–– or if you’d prefer e-book copies of the first three books in the series, Autumn’s Magical Pact, Winter’s Haunting Pledge, and Spring’s Mystical Promise, tell me what seasonal chore you dislike.

Thanks again to Nan, the Tule team, my readers, and everyone who’s stopped by Nan’s blog.

Magical wishes,

Leigh Ann

Fate’s Final Season

EXCERPT

To set up the excerpt:

When Broccan, the hero from Book 1 of the series, discovers the truth about the pact, he’s understandably furious.

Now estranged, he and Rhianwyn choose to avoid one another.

Broccan hears she’s no longer living at the monastery but staying at a mutual friend’s cottage while he’s away…

Broccan had no conscious intention of going to the cottage. He was deep in thought and didn’t direct his horse into the woods. Yet when he looked up the sun was setting and here he was at Keyon’s cottage not far from where Rhianwyn once lived.

She was inside; he heard pots or crockery being rattled about. She didn’t sing or hum as she once had when happily attending to chores. She probably didn’t feel any more like singing than he did.

He dismounted and tied Dubh to a tree where there was still some green grass for him.

Broccan stared at the door. Should he knock––ask her if she’d be willing to talk with him? Would he be able to conceal his acrimony long enough to have a conversation? He was likely behaving more like a heartbroken adolescent than a grown man. He was startled when she opened the shutters and peeked out.

“I heard a horse,” she said. “I sensed you were here.”

“Would you be willin’ to come out to speak with me? We could start a fire,” he suggested. The autumn wind had become brisk.

“I’ve just made some soup and tea. If you wish to eat, come inside. I admit, I don’t relish sitting on the ground.” She placed her hands to the small of her back. “The beds at the monastery are surely no more comfortable than the bunks at the knights’ keep.”

He couldn’t help but gaze at her. By God she was beautiful. Her long hair was unbound, and she looked radiant by the light of the sunset. She wore a simple kirtle like the one she’d been wearing the day they met. Although she wouldn’t meet his eyes, he saw hers were filled with pain. He was responsible for some of her sadness. For that he was sorrowful. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

He knew he still loved her. Else his heart wouldn’t ache when he was near her. He knew he still wanted her, else his loins wouldn’t tighten at the sight of her or when he caught the scent of her hair. He also knew he still felt the need to shake her when he thought of all that had happened.

“I’ll come out.” She reached for her shawl. “We’ll forgo breaking bread together and I know you dislike my tea.”

“No. The wind’s cold. I’ll come inside.”

She opened the door and he ducked to step through the low doorway.

She wrung her hands, nervously. “Do you want soup?”

He nodded. “It smells good.”

God’s nails, this was so damn awkward.

She took two bowls from the shelf, ladled one nearly full, the other with only a smattering. She buttered two thick pieces of bread and set them on a plate before him, but took no bread herself. She sat across from him but didn’t look up.

They ate in silence.

The soup was delicious. She’d always been a fine cook. She took mere mouthfuls then sipped the potent tea. He managed to eat everything even though he wasn’t certain he could.

“You’re not eatin’ much,” he said.

She shrugged. “I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

She was thinner than he remembered. There was a sharpness to her cheeks and her collarbone that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Would you like more?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It was good. Thank you.”

This was so bloody uncomfortable Broccan wanted to rush away. At one time he could talk to her like no other––pour his heart out. Now, if he told her what he felt within his shredded heart, she’d only wear a more maudlin look.

How he longed to see her smile. For her to laugh with him again. Yet, he couldn’t deny his fury. The disappointment. The betrayal that still gutted him.

She cleared the crockery, put the lid on the iron pot, wiped the table and sat down again, eyes lowered.

He cleared his throat, nervously searching for something to say but it was her who finally spoke.

“I’ll not hold you to this bleak marriage any longer, Broccan.”

That stunned him, yet he shouldn’t have been surprised.

What could he say to that? The thought of losing her forever struck terror within him. However, the notion of trying to return to how it had been before seemed inconceivable. He wasn’t ready to forgive and couldn’t forget.

She must have seen the accusation in his eyes for she tucked her hair behind her ear and nibbled her bottom lip. He could see her trembling, fighting tears. He longed to take her in his arms and simultaneously wanted to throttle her.

He inhaled, then slowly let out his breath.

“After what happened with Doirean, it took a long time for me to trust anyone again. Then I fell deeply in love with you, entrusted you with my heart and…you not only betrayed me, you ruined the specialness between us. I thought myself a lecherous shite when I was attracted to you no matter what form you were in…when I was drawn to your soul.”

She only nodded, tears now falling down her lovely cheeks. God’s bones, he didn’t want to hurt her. He nearly reached out to take her in his arms, but resisted.

“I’ve said I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve told you how regretful I am. If I could change it, I swear to God, I would. If I could’ve told you about the pact without risking you befalling harm, I would have. At least then you’d have known why …”

He believed her but still wanted to scold her.

She sighed. “I know not what to do, Broccan. ”A sob escaped her lips. “You will eventually have to forgive me or…”

“Or what, Rhianwyn?” He stood abruptly and stared down at her. “If I can’t forgive you, then what?” His voice caught.

She finally met his eyes. “Then you’ll have to let me go.”