romance

The Great Dagmaru – The Story Begins

The Magician’s Curse, Book 1

“…. hard to put down … [The ending] made me hungry for more.” 5 Stars ~ Linda Tonis, Senior Reviewer for THE PARANORMAL ROMANCE GUILD

Winner of the 2017 Paranormal Romance Guild’s Reviewer’s Choice Award for Gothic/Mythology/Folk Tales

“… a very enjoyable read and highly recommended!!” ~ Donna Maguire, TOP 500 Reviewer on Amazon UK

Even true love can be cursed …

 

When Herman Anderson leaves home to make a better life for herself, she doesn’t expect to meet a tall, dark stranger with whom she’ll fall hopelessly in love.

Charming and mysterious, Stephen Dagmar is a stage magician seeking an assistant. The moment he sets eyes on Herman, he knows she’s the one. He brings her home to his Victorian mansion where they embark upon an extravagant romance. Yet a shadow hangs over their love. Will the curse on his family end Stephen and Herman’s happily ever after, before it really begins?
Amidst lace and leather, innocence and debauchery, The Magician’s Curse begins the Gothic tale of The Great Dagmaru.

 

Magic and romance await.

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Prologue

Tarmien Dagmar couldn’t sleep. The clock taunted him as it had for months, even before his first child was born.

At least Stella can rest, he thought, listening to the soft snores of his wife drift through the dark from the other side of their king-sized bed. Breastfeeding was taking its toll, but the mere mention of hiring a nanny or allowing the servants to help with diaper changes was met with a firm “no.”
Murmuring something incoherent, she rolled over to face him and his blood heated at the fleeting thought of impregnating her again. It was what he was made for, after all. The blood that coursed through his veins, handed down for centuries from father to son, contained that of a demon. An incubus. A creature whose sole purpose was to seduce women and to create offspring.

Tarmien was coaxed from his thoughts by the subtle but distinctive sound of a waking infant. He gently eased himself out of bed so as not to wake his wife and crossed the hall quickly.

“It’s okay, Stephen,” he whispered as he closed the door of the nursery behind him. “Daddy’s here.”

He reached into the crib and picked up the restless newborn who settled the moment he was cradled in his father’s arms.

What have I done? Tarmien asked himself for the thousandth time since the baby was born.

Apart from the insatiable desire to procreate, Tarmien hadn’t shown any of the demonic tendencies to which his father had confessed on his deathbed, just months ago. He hoped he could spare his son the knowledge of that horrible confession. At least the curse that tied the Dagmar family to their servants, the Currys, was a burden Tarmien could bear himself; he was determined this child would never have to carry out its twisted conditions.

As he lifted his precious son to kiss his fine, black hair and breathe in his potent baby scent, he prayed that the family’s demonic bloodline had run out, once and for all. Only time would tell.

Adoration – Talk About Romance Series

Love at first sight. It’s a controversial subject among romance readers. Also known as “instalust,” it seems as many readers accept it, as who avoid it at all costs.

But perhaps there are ways for a romance writer to depict it that are more believable.

When I think of love-at-first-sight movies, my mind immediately goes to “Serendipity.” I loved that movie; the fact that fate was ultimately on their side likely had a lot to do with the opening of my own novel, The Magician’s Curse, but I digress. Fate is often the backdrop, I believe, of the most successful love-at-first-sight plots. It creates a basis on which the reader can suspend disbelief.

I’m sure there are many other scenarios that work, but the risk of such a meeting between two characters seeming overly plotted and convenient is present no matter what.

“I adore you,” the hero says to the heroine, hours after they meet.

“I adore you too. Let’s get married and have babies,” the heroine replies.

Does it happen in real life? Reports say it does, though maybe not quite that fast. This sort of lack of hesitation leaves a lot of room for improvement. But if there’s a paranormal element to it? The bonding of two souls that are meeting again in this current life? Therein lies the romance.

What do you think? What works for you in fiction? Have you ever, in real life, seen a stranger across a crowded room who might have been “The One”?

Thanks go to Bee for the inspiration for this post.

Creamy, too – 100 word fiction

(Part One Creamy.)

“Hey man, did you see that ‘creamy’ chick again today?”

“Yep. She sat behind me again. This time she whispered, ‘You’re really, really creamy,’ and then she licked my ear.”

“Geez! What did you do?”

“I talked to her after the lecture. We went home to her place.”

“And…?”

“And she’s got a fridge full of whipped cream.”

“So you…”

“So I got creamy.”

“Wow. Are you gonna see her again?”

“I think so. She said something about me being extra horny.”

“She didn’t have, like, deers and rhinos mounted on the walls, did she?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

Wait…

Dear Brian (I think that was your name.)

I want to convey my sincere apologies for my husband’s behaviour at the restaurant tonight. I thought you were an excellent waiter. But please understand that my husband is very jealous, so when I complained that my fork was dirty and you licked it clean for me, he thought you were coming on to me.

I’m so sorry he gave you a black eye. I’d like to make it up to you. Please find enclosed with this note a $100 bill and a box of condoms. I’ll be at the motel out on Route 67 by the gas station at 10pm tonight.

Yours truly,

The Lady at Table 6

P.S. I hope regular-sized condoms are okay. I took you at your word when you referred to my husband as the bigger dick.

Dear Diary – Millions

October 21/16
Dear Diary

“Of all the millions of fish in the sea, you’re the one I want.”

You know how many guys have said that to me over the years? Of course you do. You’re my diary. I should go back and count. Because all of them? Were lying.

Today Jimmy said it. Jimmy of all people. I could look into his blue eyes and almost believe it.

Should I, Diary? Is he really “The One”? I guess we’ll see.

Endless Summer

The palm trees sway elegantly in the ocean breeze
as she lounges at twilight upon the beach
and ponders, a cheap paperback
tented, forgotten, on her thigh,
that perhaps she could have won,
striven harder
toiled longer
to achieve her dream
of skiing down a mountain slope
snow dancing beneath her feet,
chilled wind whistling past her ears…
But all she has is here,
is now,
the palm trees swaying,
the sun-warmed sand beneath her chair.

The ocean sings a song of endless summer
as she breathes in the salty sea
and picks up her book
to escape her broken wish.

romance

romance comes
in so many forms

for some brightly lit in the sun, water falls and picnics

gah

what of that? sickly sweet and taffy cream ant infested bologna!

romance is this my love:

wine as red as blood
candle wax dripping upon skin
and pain
pain as sharp as the knife which i use
to carve your lust for me into your chest
as piercing as my body into yours – the physicality of romance

can you feel it?
can you feel the torture that i endure upon days
and nights of not knowing where you are
what you are doing and with whom?

romance is a fistful of angel hair and fingernail clippings
romance is a mindfull of possession and need

i hand it to you on a plate of flesh and bone

for you know as well as i
romance kills

doesn’t it my love?

SoCS – The Second I Saw You

I knew the second I saw you that you would be mine. You might say it is cliche, but it’s true. My mind immediately raced to our wedding day – that I would place my ring on your finger and that in the spectators at our marriage day would be four or five of my ex-wives, bickering and scratching one another.

Catcalls from the orchestra section would be drowned out by the love, ringing in our ears and bells would tinkle above us. Oh the gloriousness of our child-bearing years! Our first-born would look just like me, or perhaps my sixth ex-wife, as by then I would be fooling around on you because you put on a few pounds from the many desserts I demanded you bake for me.

Now, my love, I stand in line at the seventh cashier from the right where I’ve followed you with my shopping cart from the frozen food aisle. I need only touch your arm.

We were meant to be. I know it in my heart.

 

This stream of consciousness fiction piece is part of SoCS. Click on the link and join in the fun!
http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/09/26/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-september-2714/

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