My guest blogger today is Jean M. Grant. She is the author of five books and writes in the romance and women’s fiction genres.
Title you are promoting: A Hundred Lies, a Scottish medieval romance with a fantasy twist. It is the final book in a trilogy, but each book can be enjoyed as standalones.
Summary of above title in 30 words or less: Rosalie is on the run after telling one too many lies. When she seeks solace in the arms of a laird’s son who is a true Seer, can the power of the Ancients save her from death?
We know each other through The Wild Rose Press who publishes some of our work. Do you publish with other publishers and who? Not yet. I’ve published 5 books with The Wild Rose Press though.
What are you working on now? I am writing a contemporary romance. It’s based on a story my aunt told me and I was intrigued.
Favorite quote (from any source): “God doesn’t give you what you can’t handle. I just wished he didn’t trust me so much” – Mother Teresa. Also, “Do or do not, there is no try.” – Yoda. I wrestle with both of those sayings. It’s hard, what life throws at you sometimes. Lastly, “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a (hu)man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” – Ben Franklin. I like his attitude. It’s not about wealth of money, but wealth of life. I start my days early. Each day we get a new sunrise to try again even if yesterday was not so great.
Who is the author/artist that inspires you the most, and why? Artist – Claude Monet. I find serenity and peace in his Impressionism. I am a nature lover and I just find myself turning inward with a sigh when I see his paintings. Author – I admire Diana Gabaldon’s courage and innovation. She wrote some great long books that were not the romance “norm.” There are naysayers everywhere and not everyone loves her work, some have criticism, but reading is subjective. To each their own. She was/is also a scientist and I was one in my early days.
If stranded on an island, what one book would you keep with you? Not sure I would bring one book. I enjoy books but once done, I usually never read again (except for a few in the Outlander series). I think I would need some sort of MacGyver type manual – to help me make a raft, hunt, build, survive. Or I would just invite Bear Grylls to join me (and my family) on the island.
What are you reading right now? I just finished my third book by Amy Harmon. Oh, I love her! She is my new favorite. She blends historical, romance, fantasy, and women’s fiction into one. She’s almost literary in her ways. I just finished “Where the Lost Wander.” So good!
Tell us 3 fascinating things about you: I love sharks and went to school for marine science, I am a bit obsessed with my flower gardens, and I once won the lottery ($10k on a scratch ticket) in college – I used the money, $7200 after taxes, to buy household and college needs – no wild spending.
Describe your ideal workspace…and then tell us about your actual one: Ideal – Oh I would love a she-shed surrounded by my perennial gardens. It would need to be heated and cooled, no bugs, and have a coffee pot. Preferably this would sit on a plot of land in the mountains, near woodland. Real-life – my desk used to sit in my children’s playroom, among the dynamic chaotic daily grind. Now that they are older and I am not as great with tuning out and multi-tasking, I moved it up to my bedroom. Not ideal, but quieter. It takes them more effort to come up and ask for things. Keep in mind, they are 11 and 13. Not wee babes anymore.
What advice do you have for other writers/artists? I live by the 3 P’s, which after having a rough time lately, I need to remind myself for life and writing: Patience, Perseverance, and Putting in the Time. Anything worth working toward takes time, oh so much, patience, oh so much, and resilience.
Where can readers find you online?
They can find me here:
It was great having you here, Jean, and I know we all wish you continued success. Pick up a copy of A Hundred Lies and as always, leave a review if you love it.
Jean’s background is in science and she draws from her interests in history, nature, and her family for inspiration. She writes historical and contemporary romances and women’s fiction. She also writes articles for family-oriented travel magazines. When she’s not writing or chasing after children, she enjoys tending to her flower gardens, hiking, and doing just about anything in the outdoors.
Rosalie Threston’s fortune-telling lies have caught up with her. Uprooted yet again, she’s on the run from a ruthless English noblewoman. She flees to Scotland and seeks refuge in the arms of a laird’s son who happens to be a real Seer.
A bloody past and inevitable future plague Domhnall Montgomerie. He avoids physical contact with others to ease the painful visions. When an accidental touch reveals only delight, he wonders if Rose is the key to silencing the Sight.
Mystical awakening unravels with each kiss. But can Domhnall embrace his gift in time to save her life, even if it means exposing her lies?
Rosalie huffed but shuffled around him. “Excuse me, Sir Montgomerie.”
“It’s just Domhnall.” Shame skittered to the forefront of his mind. He lived a privileged life, hardly understanding the commoner, try as he might by pacing the streets afoot. In his mind, all people were equal, though society and nobles held other opinions of the lesser born. Not him. Not if he became laird. When. He sighed. When he became laird. Despite his parents’ noble upbringing, they celebrated every man, woman, and child’s God-given gifts. All should have opportunity. Here, men and women were treated fairly, as fair as they could get with the demanding barons and the king.
He was trying hard to help a woman who maybe didn’t want his help. When would he learn he could only help others so much?
He blinked away that pain. Why now? Why remember that awful memory? He’d only been a lad himself at the time. He hadn’t understood the power that rested in his visions. He swallowed. “Here.” He grabbed a crate from her, his hand accidentally brushing hers. A cool rush traveled up his fingers to his elbow. His blood pressure dipped, darkness luring him. No, he chided. Blazes, no! He commanded the vision to relent. The black curtain crossing his eyes quickly dissipated as blood flowed to his fingers. His extremities instantly warmed.
What was that?
Had he successfully halted a vision midstream? It had been years—years!—since his last true vision, if he didn’t count the strange man’s reappearance this week and Venora’s chilling words. Och, plus the misstep with that drunkard in Edinburgh a month ago. He picked up another crate, handed it to her, deliberately touching her fingers, testing the radical idea. Heart in throat. Bold. So bold. Nothing. Nothing but an attraction to the golden-haired lass welled within
him. No vision. Only interest. Only…
He wanted to try again. And again.
What are you reading this week?