Please give a warm welcome to Rosanna Leo to the blog!
*****
I am so happy to be visiting with the lovely
Melissa Blue today, and to be able to share the news of my newest book The
Selkie. It is an erotic paranormal romance set in Orkney, Scotland. In that
part of the world, there are legends about the mythical selkie folk, shape
shifters who shift from seal to human form. They merely need to shed their seal
pelt and they can live on land for a time. Selkies are legendary lovers. In
fact, the myths say that if a human woman is unsatisfied with her love life,
she need only cry 7 tears into the sea to call an immortal selkie man. He will
love her as no human man can.
Tantalizing, don’tcha think?
In preparing this post, I was trying to
recall why I wanted to write about a selkie in the first place. Certainly
mythological creatures of all sorts have always attracted me…the males in
particular. It could be the allure of the beach. Perhaps it’s the Scottish
thing, but selkie men don’t tend to wear kilts. In fact they don’t wear much of
anything.
That could be the reason right there.
No, I think one of the main reasons is my
fascination with sea creatures. I’m not talking Nessie here. I’m talking about
those fantastical beings who dwell beneath the depths, the ones whose very
existence cannot be disproved. Ethereal mermaids who lure sailors to a watery
demise. Sirens who call to hapless men from their craggy rocks. Selkie men, who
are reputed to be unbelievable lovers whose good looks can devastate. What’s
not to love?
Actually, now that I think about it, you can
blame Aquaman. Was I the only little girl in the 70’s who lusted after this
buff cartoon character? That shiny blond hair. Those hardened abs. His insane
swimming ability. Think of the things we could do underwater!
Well, so there you have it. I suppose The
Selkie is my homage to Aquaman, although not a direct reference in any way.
Indeed, all my books have an origin in the interests of my childhood. Greek
myths, vampires, firefighters. They all show up in my stories.
Should I be concerned that I also had a crush
on Snap, Crackle and Pop? Menage literature…here I come!
*****
Blurb:
This
was supposed to be her year. However, after losing her job and discovering her
fiancé cheating, Maggie Collins has her doubts. When her grandmother dies, she
hits rock bottom. Maggie travels to her grandmother’s home in Orkney, Scotland
to sort through her gran’s things, only to discover the old woman has left her
a seal pelt as her inheritance. She also learns that others are after the pelt.
To
add to her frustration, Maggie’s dreams are filled with luscious images of a
long-haired man, images that draw her to the magical beaches in Orkney.
Although she’s lost her trust in men, this dream man inspires her with a lust
she’s never known before.
Calan
Kirk has also been dreaming. Dreaming of Maggie, the mortal woman who arouses
him as no other woman ever has. Meeting her in the flesh when she arrives in
Orkney is nothing short of spontaneous sexual combustion. But she is a human,
and not to be trusted. He needs the seal pelt, not a red-haired temptress.
As
a thief ransacks Maggie’s grandmother’s house, Maggie and Calan are thrust
together. They must search for the animal skin, a mythical relic which once
found, will either bring them together or rip them apart forever.
*****
Excerpt:
She
was attempting to stand on her wobbly legs, only to fall back down on her
bottom, when she heard the sound of splashing water. Thinking it was her seal,
Maggie turned to look.
Her
breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the animal at all.
It
was a man. He was rising out of the waves, walking toward her. She froze. He
was nude, utterly nude, and was staring at her with overflowing intimacy. As if
they’d had, God help her, relations.
And
she realized, with sudden panic, they’d had! In her dreams. He was the seal-man
from all her sex dreams.
No.
Impossible.
Her
first instinct was to call for help, but there was no one near. And then she
realized with frightening awareness that she didn’t want any help anyway. Glued
to her spot, she couldn’t help but drink him in.
He
was beautiful, if unnervingly wet and naked. He had long, shiny, brown hair
that hung down past his shoulders. His face could have belonged on an ad for
expensive cologne, and he had a body to match. Sculpted shoulders gave way to
arms corded in muscle. His defined chest was blanketed by a smattering of
sparse, brown hair that led tantalizingly to his rock-hard abs.
Maggie
held her breath as her gaze traveled lower on his body, taking in trim calves
and thighs a quarterback would envy. And, she noted with simultaneous hunger
and horror, his penis was the biggest she’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. It
was thick and long and glistening with the droplets of water that yet cascaded
over his body. And it seemed to be reaching for her. She gulped, and forced
herself to look back up at his face.
There
was a faint glow about his skin, a shimmery aura. Dismissing it as a trick of
the moonlight, she shook her head.
He
was almost upon her, and his full lips were taut in a teasing grin. Maybe he
was a surfer who’d lost not only his board, but his shorts in the waves. She
knew she should be frantic, but wasn’t. There was something in his brown eyes
that was so familiar, so soothing, even as they swept over her own body with
lustful appreciation.
He
stopped in front of her, and stood boldly, unashamed of his glorious nakedness.
She managed to spit out one hushed word. “You.”
“You,”
was his equally awed reply.
*****
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