Book Promo: "Conquering Passion" by Anna Markland 2013

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Book Promo: "Conquering Passion" by Anna Markland 2013

Post by Admin on Sun Sep 15, 2013 4:19 am

2013 2013 2013 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-86KoOfu7jD8/UfxXq6MQTkI/AAAAAAAAFKM/PNsNSumXYuY/s1600/ConquerPassion_CVR_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-86KoOfu7jD8/UfxXq6MQTkI/AAAAAAAAFKM/PNsNSumXYuY/s1600/ConquerPassion_CVR_MED.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div><u><i><b>Synopsis</b></i></u><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">CONQUERING PASSION covers a span of over ten years and is rich in details of 11th century England. Book One of the Montbryce Legacy introduces the three Montbryce brothers, Rambaud (Ram), Antoine and Hugh, and follows Ram’s journey with Mabelle de Valtesse through the labyrinth of dangers that existed in the aftermath of the Norman Conquest. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Mabelle, a strong heroine, is more than a match for her warrior hero, Ram. The passion quickly flares between them, but both are reluctant to admit their love. Can a man like Ram, who demands obedience in a wife, find love with the wilful refugee brought to his bed in an arranged marriage? Mabelle is an independent woman who has learned to live by her wits during a six year exile with her psychotic father. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Only through trials and tragedy do they finally realize that they can no longer deny what their hearts have always known—love conquers all. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lovers of medieval romance and English history during the time of King William the Conqueror will enjoy this intimate story of passion, betrayal, ambition, vengeance, and of course love.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hr_24WDBSzM/UZ_7h9_kJRI/AAAAAAAAEgg/lIRoFAXkvEU/s1600/excerpt+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hr_24WDBSzM/UZ_7h9_kJRI/AAAAAAAAEgg/lIRoFAXkvEU/s1600/excerpt+copy.jpg" height="72" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Setting<i></i></b>: 11th century Normandy. On the eve of his marriage to a woman he has never met, the hero is returning from a long frustrating journey and decides to take a quick dip in a lake close to his home: </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He walked briskly towards the inviting water, unsheathing his sword, eagerly stripping off his boots, padded chausses, surcoat, hose, undershirt and braies. He tossed them into a pile, placed his sword carefully on top, then slipped soundlessly into the water. It was bracing, but felt good against his skin. He swam lazily for several minutes, then floated on his back looking up at the clear blue sky, listening to the sounds of chirping birds, inhaling the fragrant apple blossom. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I love this place. Maman used to bring us there when we were boys. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The mysteries and frustrations of Alensonne melted away, and he looked forward to his marriage. He had never bedded a virgin. Considering the life she had led, was Mabelle untouched? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Reluctantly deciding he should make his way home, he strode from the water and perched on a flat rock, rubbing his hands through his hair, waiting for the sun to dry his body. After a few minutes, he wandered over to his clothing and pulled on his linen braies. Catching sight of a mound of blue in the grass nearby, he wondered idly what it might be. He sauntered over, fiddling with the ties of his braies. He discovered a basket of freshly picked bluebells. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He smiled and crouched down to touch them, but then his brow creased as his warrior instinct warned of a possible threat, angry he had let his guard down. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Merde! My sword is with my clothing. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He stood, listening, but then the smile returned to his face as the notion struck him only girls picked flowers. His spine tingled at the recollection of floating on his back, naked. Had a woman watched him? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Surely I would have sensed? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He crept forward and his mouth fell open when he caught sight of a scantily clad maiden, asleep, half-hidden by the long grass. She had covered her body with a chemise, but her arms and legs had escaped its folds. He licked his lips at the sight of her glorious golden hair and white shoulders. One long arm lay outstretched at her side. The other was bent, hand tucked into the side of her face. The steady rise and fall of the bluebells covering her chest drew his eye. Her bare feet were slender. He could see only part of her thigh, but her legs were long. They had fallen open, the chemise bunched between them. Were the curls of the triangle at the top the same golden color? Rosy cheeks and open lips, curved into the trace of a smile, gave her the face of an angel at rest. His body responded fiercely and he inhaled sharply. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Was she a vision? He squeezed his eyes shut, then looked again. He took in a ragged breath. Her long, brown eyelashes fluttered at the slight sound. She rubbed her nose and stretched, arching her back and bending her knees. The chemise came tantalizingly close to slipping off her breasts. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Icy heat rushed through Ram’s body. He, the fearless Rambaud le Noir, felt something tighten in his chest. He had never seen a more desirable woman. Crouched like a cat, he had an urge to spring up and pounce on her. Swallowing hard, he clenched his fists, struggling for the cool control that had made him a decorated cavalry commander.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8hk4Vw-BaLE/UZ_8dWbum5I/AAAAAAAAEgs/ZhYFj_rpnmg/s1600/UpsideDown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8hk4Vw-BaLE/UZ_8dWbum5I/AAAAAAAAEgs/ZhYFj_rpnmg/s1600/UpsideDown.jpg" height="48" width="200" /></a></div><br /><u><i><b>Links:</b></i></u><br /><br /><div class=""><a href="http://amzn.com/B006FA0R02" target="_blank">Amazon</a></div><div class=""><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/conquering-passion-anna-markland/1107903532?ean=2940032888352" target="_blank">Nook</a></div><div class=""><a href="http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Conquering-Passion/book-DdJJalHeuUiRkDF5cyHE5w/page1.html?s=ueVGZXTSTEeptpd6VpG-wg&amp;r=10" target="_blank">Kobo</a></div><div class=""><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/conquering-passion/id488522434?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a></div><div class=""><a href="https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/anna-markland/conquering-passion/_/R-400000000000000554934" target="_blank">Sony</a></div><div class=""><a class="c_nobdr t_prs" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/106871" target="_blank">Smashwords</a></div></div><br> 2013 2013 2013 <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-86KoOfu7jD8/UfxXq6MQTkI/AAAAAAAAFKM/PNsNSumXYuY/s1600/ConquerPassion_CVR_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-86KoOfu7jD8/UfxXq6MQTkI/AAAAAAAAFKM/PNsNSumXYuY/s1600/ConquerPassion_CVR_MED.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div><u><i><b>Synopsis</b></i></u><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">CONQUERING PASSION covers a span of over ten years and is rich in details of 11th century England. Book One of the Montbryce Legacy introduces the three Montbryce brothers, Rambaud (Ram), Antoine and Hugh, and follows Ram’s journey with Mabelle de Valtesse through the labyrinth of dangers that existed in the aftermath of the Norman Conquest. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Mabelle, a strong heroine, is more than a match for her warrior hero, Ram. The passion quickly flares between them, but both are reluctant to admit their love. Can a man like Ram, who demands obedience in a wife, find love with the wilful refugee brought to his bed in an arranged marriage? Mabelle is an independent woman who has learned to live by her wits during a six year exile with her psychotic father. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Only through trials and tragedy do they finally realize that they can no longer deny what their hearts have always known—love conquers all. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lovers of medieval romance and English history during the time of King William the Conqueror will enjoy this intimate story of passion, betrayal, ambition, vengeance, and of course love.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hr_24WDBSzM/UZ_7h9_kJRI/AAAAAAAAEgg/lIRoFAXkvEU/s1600/excerpt+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hr_24WDBSzM/UZ_7h9_kJRI/AAAAAAAAEgg/lIRoFAXkvEU/s1600/excerpt+copy.jpg" height="72" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Setting<i></i></b>: 11th century Normandy. On the eve of his marriage to a woman he has never met, the hero is returning from a long frustrating journey and decides to take a quick dip in a lake close to his home: </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He walked briskly towards the inviting water, unsheathing his sword, eagerly stripping off his boots, padded chausses, surcoat, hose, undershirt and braies. He tossed them into a pile, placed his sword carefully on top, then slipped soundlessly into the water. It was bracing, but felt good against his skin. He swam lazily for several minutes, then floated on his back looking up at the clear blue sky, listening to the sounds of chirping birds, inhaling the fragrant apple blossom. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I love this place. Maman used to bring us there when we were boys. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The mysteries and frustrations of Alensonne melted away, and he looked forward to his marriage. He had never bedded a virgin. Considering the life she had led, was Mabelle untouched? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Reluctantly deciding he should make his way home, he strode from the water and perched on a flat rock, rubbing his hands through his hair, waiting for the sun to dry his body. After a few minutes, he wandered over to his clothing and pulled on his linen braies. Catching sight of a mound of blue in the grass nearby, he wondered idly what it might be. He sauntered over, fiddling with the ties of his braies. He discovered a basket of freshly picked bluebells. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He smiled and crouched down to touch them, but then his brow creased as his warrior instinct warned of a possible threat, angry he had let his guard down. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Merde! My sword is with my clothing. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He stood, listening, but then the smile returned to his face as the notion struck him only girls picked flowers. His spine tingled at the recollection of floating on his back, naked. Had a woman watched him? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Surely I would have sensed? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He crept forward and his mouth fell open when he caught sight of a scantily clad maiden, asleep, half-hidden by the long grass. She had covered her body with a chemise, but her arms and legs had escaped its folds. He licked his lips at the sight of her glorious golden hair and white shoulders. One long arm lay outstretched at her side. The other was bent, hand tucked into the side of her face. The steady rise and fall of the bluebells covering her chest drew his eye. Her bare feet were slender. He could see only part of her thigh, but her legs were long. They had fallen open, the chemise bunched between them. Were the curls of the triangle at the top the same golden color? Rosy cheeks and open lips, curved into the trace of a smile, gave her the face of an angel at rest. His body responded fiercely and he inhaled sharply. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Was she a vision? He squeezed his eyes shut, then looked again. He took in a ragged breath. Her long, brown eyelashes fluttered at the slight sound. She rubbed her nose and stretched, arching her back and bending her knees. The chemise came tantalizingly close to slipping off her breasts. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Icy heat rushed through Ram’s body. He, the fearless Rambaud le Noir, felt something tighten in his chest. He had never seen a more desirable woman. Crouched like a cat, he had an urge to spring up and pounce on her. Swallowing hard, he clenched his fists, struggling for the cool control that had made him a decorated cavalry commander.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8hk4Vw-BaLE/UZ_8dWbum5I/AAAAAAAAEgs/ZhYFj_rpnmg/s1600/UpsideDown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8hk4Vw-BaLE/UZ_8dWbum5I/AAAAAAAAEgs/ZhYFj_rpnmg/s1600/UpsideDown.jpg" height="48" width="200" /></a></div><br /><u><i><b>Links:</b></i></u><br /><br /><div class=""><a href="http://amzn.com/B006FA0R02" target="_blank">Amazon</a></div><div class=""><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/conquering-passion-anna-markland/1107903532?ean=2940032888352" target="_blank">Nook</a></div><div class=""><a href="http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Conquering-Passion/book-DdJJalHeuUiRkDF5cyHE5w/page1.html?s=ueVGZXTSTEeptpd6VpG-wg&amp;r=10" target="_blank">Kobo</a></div><div class=""><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/conquering-passion/id488522434?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a></div><div class=""><a href="https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/anna-markland/conquering-passion/_/R-400000000000000554934" target="_blank">Sony</a></div><div class=""><a class="c_nobdr t_prs" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/106871" target="_blank">Smashwords</a></div></div><br>2013 2013 2013 <br> <a href="http://www.matrixar.com/" title="Matrix ">المصفوفة : أجمل الخلفيات والصور</a>

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