Tuesday, 27 March 2012


                                        Hi everyone,

                    I was just wondering if what we read as children influences what we read or write as adults. I believe in my case it does. As a child read (and was read ) Grimm's fairytales and I loved them. They were filled with beauty and magic but there was always a dark and disturbing element to them. Oh, there were the obvious choices such as Cinderella, Snow White and Red Riding Hood; but I liked the more obscure stories. The Goose Girl, Jorinda and Joringel, the Seven Swans and the Twelve Dancing Princesses were among my favourites. There were really dark bits in all of them; for example in The Goose Girl, the princess’s confidant is her talking horse Falada. The evil maid usurps the princess’s position and has the horse beheaded – but even that doesn’t stop him from talking.

   In the Seven Swans to save her brothers who have been transformed into swans; the princess cannot speak for seven years even though hideous things happen to her in that time period. The story has echoes of Chaucer’s, Boccaccio’s and Petrarch’s versions of Patient Griselda.

   The Twelve Dancing Princesses is a visually beautiful tale, with the girls running off to dance each night away with twelve handsome princes. Yet the darkness of the story is ever present – the King decrees that whoever can discover the girl’s secret will marry the one of their choice. However if the secret is not discovered in three days the suitor will be put to death. Needless to say this doesn’t stop the princesses from their sport, no matter how many men die.

    The list of my favourite fairytales can go on and on. I think it’s not very hard to see why I like to read and write paranormal stories – Obviously, I read too many damn fairytales as a kid!

Nicole x

                    If your mother knew your fate,

                    Surely her poor heart would break.


Friday, 23 March 2012

Hi everyone,

                     Capturing Bliss has been entered into the You Gotta Read Cover Contest. It's entry no. 17 and I would really appreciate your votes!

Thanks so much.



Sunday, 18 March 2012

Spotlight - Annie Seaton

Hi everyone,
                      Today I have the lovely Annie Seaton dropping by to share a little bit about herself and her new fab book - Winter of the Passion Flower.

Annie Seaton lives on the beautiful east coast of Australia, where she loves sitting in her writing chair, gazing at the ocean and writing stories. She has always been fascinated by all things historical and has found her niche writing contemporary romance, and steampunk, where strong heroines and brooding heroes fight together to make their alternative world a better place.

Annie has retired from the world of full time work and career and is now immersed in her new home-based career of writing and editing

She lives with her husband, and “Bob” the dog and two white cats, in a house next to the beach in a small coastal town of New South Wales. Their two children are grown and married and she loves spending time gardening, walking on the beach and spoiling her two grandchildren.
   What was the first thing you had published? (school paper, story etc)
        I joined the local writer’s group back in the late 1980s and my first ‘real’ published piece was a romantic short story.

         When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?
         The day I learned to read! I have always been an avid reader, from the moment I could read. For many years, my family has heard...one day I will write my book. However, a very satisfying life as a wife, mother and with a full time career in education intruded on my dream and managed to fill up my days.

            Inspirations and how do you overcome writer’s block?
I have discovered that writing comes very easily to me, and the stories that have been in my head for years are just jumping onto the page. I sit in my writing chair and gaze at the tranquil Pacific Ocean as the stories flow. On the very rare occasion that they are a bit reluctant to be told, I go for a walk on the beach and the muse comes back with a vengeance!
Water is my element and feeds my creative process and so far, each one of my books has boats and islands as the central focus.  My sequel to Holiday Affair is set on the Italian coast and I really think a visit may be necessary to walk on that beach!

Thanks so much Annie for visiting and I wish you the very best with your writing!

             Winter of the Passion Flower
             Sexy  heroine seeks captain for time-traveling submarine
            Indigo de Vargas is determined to exhibit her products at the Great Exhibition in Crystal Palace. The evil Duke Lorca and his shape-shifting servants, however, have thwarted her preparation at every turn. Indigo's only hope is the brooding captain who appears on her doorstep in the midst of a fierce snowstorm offering to navigate her submarine to the Amazon so she can collect passionflowers for her potions and hallucinogenics.
            Steam powers more than the submarine on this voyage. Sparks flying between Indigo and her captain may ignite a passion neither can avoid.

Excerpt from Winter of the Passion Flower
Stepping out onto a wide rock platform, shafts of light from the afternoon sun turned the mighty river into a stream of molten gold. A magnificent vista of green jungle edged with the distant deep blue of the Pacific Ocean, spread beyond the river. Steep rocky cliffs tumbled away beneath them as a fine mist created from the surging water of the roaring waterfall cooled their overheated bodies. Indigo pointed eastward, where a high snow capped mountain disappeared in the clouds.
“Nevada Mismo. The source of the Amazon.” Indigo smiled up at the captain.” Now, I hope you are no prude, sir, as I am in need of a cooling shower.” She removed her boots, setting them aside in a dry corner. Her jeans, t-shirt and minuscule red undergarment quickly joined them.
Indigo strode across in front of Zane. Her body glistened with perspiration from the morning’s work. As she stepped into the fine mist, she beckoned him with a tilt of her head.
“You are more than welcome to join me.” She stepped into the curtain of cascading water. Turning, she smiled with anticipation as Zane place his boots, clothes and chronometer on the ground, and he joined her a couple of moments later. The clear water cascaded over their bodies, icy cold from the snow that fed the waterfall.
Zane stepped toward her, hands by his side. Holding her gaze, he sought permission. “May I touch you now, Indigo?”
She leaned over and kissed him, pushing her breasts into his bare chest. He gently turned her around and she arched back against him as he bent down to kiss the beauty spot on her shoulder.
“I have wanted to do that since I first saw you,” Zane murmured.
Buying Link -:


Saturday, 17 March 2012

Capturing Bliss

Hi everyone,
                     Capturing Bliss is entered into You Gotta Read Reviews Cover Contest this month.
It is entry no. 17 and voting is open from March 21 - 26. 
 I would really appreciate some votes!
Besides it really is a pretty cover.


Thanks so much,

Nicole  x

Sunday, 11 March 2012

Hi everyone,
                     So as some of you may know I have a Work In Progress which is a medieval paranormal, it's probably the most ambitious I've undertaken to date. My hope is that it will be the first book in a series, fingers crossed as I have never attempted one before. Anyway, I needed a ballad for the book and toyed with borrowing one of my favourites like 'The Unquiet Grave' or 'The Douglas Tragedy' but then I decided to try my hand at it instead. So here is the ballad I conjured - I hope you like it and please be kind!

              Thrice More

Oh come my pretty one, my love,

And follow me to the lee.

And I will love thee, lass,

Thrice more than he.

I cannot come, my knight, my love,

And follow to the lee.

For I have given sworn oath, my love,

To him and not to thee.

Oh come away my lady love,

Oh come away with me.

For I do swear I love thee,

Thrice more than he.

I cannot go. I cannot come.

For the vow I spoke so free.

But I do love thee, my heart –

Thrice more than he.

A kiss, a kiss – to farewell my love,

A kiss that will never set me free.

Thou art my world and I do love thee,

Thrice more than he.

I cannot go, I cannot come.

Yet my heart will never be free.

Farewell my knight and I will love thee always,

Thrice more than he.


Monday, 5 March 2012

Hello everyone,
                          So today I thought that I would share one of my favourite medieval ballads. I discovered it when I was thirteen and it has been rolling around in my mind ever since.

The Unquiet Grave

'The wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true-love;
In cold grave she was lain.'

'I'll do as much for my true-love
As any young man may;
I'll sit and mourn all at her grave,
For a twelvemonth and a day.'

The twelvemonth and a day being up,
The dead began to speak:
'Oh who sits weeping at my grave,
And will not let me sleep?'

''Tis I, my love, sits on your grave,
And will not let you sleep;
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
And that is all I seek.'

'You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;
But my breath smells earthy strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.'

''Tis down in yonder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that ere was seen
Is withered to a stalk.'

'The stalk is withered dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content, my love,
Till God calls you away.'