Sourcebooks Casablanca Romance Authors

What’s on your Christmas list this year? How about a hunky Highlander who needs the find the true meaning of Christmas? Oh yeah, I got it. I am excited to offer my first ever short story: The Highlander’s Noel . Lady Sabine escapes an arranged marriage by traveling from her native France to the Scottish Highlands to be a lady-in-waiting, yet when she arrives a few days before Christmas, she finds she is no longer needed. She cannot remain an unwed lass in a Highland castle so she is given the choice between returning home, joining a convent, or a hasty marriage of convenience. Even worse, Sabine finds that Highlanders do not celebrate her cherished Christmas customs. Sir Braden is the Master at Arms for the MacLaren clan and is assigned to guard Lady Sabine until her situation is resolved. Despite his intention never to marry, Lady Sabine shows him the joy of Christmas and his icy heart starts to melt. Now for the best part - you can get a free read of this short story by ...

People often ask me why I like to write time travel romance, and it’s a two-part answer, because there are really two questions in there—why do I like to write romance, and why do I like to write time travel. I began to write with the intention of getting published in June, 1997 to honor my younger sister, who was a poet and photographer and who had died suddenly the month before. The sort of book I wanted to write was a book like the one a friend had given me a few months earlier—Outlander. At that time, I’d never read a romance before, and I COULDN’T PUT IT DOWN. Jamie is the best sort of hero—devoted, funny, brave, smart, and supportive of the heroine. I was so hopped up on the first three Outlander novels, it was pretty much all I could talk about in the spring of 1997—and it was one of the things I talked to my sister about since her college boyfriend had been named Jamie and like the heroine in Outlander, my sister’s name was Claire. It was the last conversations I ever had wit...

by Mary Wine Please welcome fellow Casablanca Author Mary Wine ! Her third Highlander book, Highland Heat , is in stores now. In today’s post—Mary welcomes us all to celebrate the launch of her new book with a Maypole :-) The weathers is changing but it’s still not quite Spring, winter still wants to rise up and nip at me from time to time. My rose bush thinks it’s Spring. It’s covered in purple leaves, dangling the promise of roses in front of me only to have it drop too cold at night still for the buds to mature. I find it amusing the number of long sleeve shirts and jackets accumulating in the car…you never know just what the temperature is going to be so we’ve got lighter weight sweatshirts and our winter jackets still out or maybe just a long sleeves shirt will do the trick…lol! Our little parrot has defiantly decided it is spring. He’s been singing in the window for the last two weeks. He’s determined to lure in a lady parrot to help him build a nest. Isn’t he a handsome fellow...

This month we've been talking about abundance, which can be good, bad, or downright ugly. Abundant health – good, abundance of adverbs in your story – bad, abundance of drive-thru meals after two weeks of football practices, and eating said meal in the car in the dark – downright ugly. The shriveled up lettuce always lands in cracks too small to reach, and left-overs get shoved underneath the seat, only to be found when the aroma finally overwhelms the smell of well-used football equipment. But I’ve had an abundance of good news this year. First, in preparation for my agent submitting my story, I got my website. Now I was worried about getting a website, because if you knew me better, you’d know I’m totally rotten at decision making. There are some things I know right off that I want. I’m going to get it no matter what, other things…well, I can deliberate for hours, sucking everything around me into the void of confusion. When eating out, my husband pleads with me to just let him o...

Rick rested his fingers on my arm and leaned in, his lips barely touching my ear as he whispered, “Bid for me and I’ll sail you far away from all this.” He winked and shivers of expectation stole up my spine. I could just envision sailing in the Gulf with Rick, minus the dreadlocks, making a stop at South Padre Island, wading in the pristine water while colorful fish darted around our legs, where cottony sand beaches awaited us and then…then…I saw him— Be still my heart, ‘twas none other than Robert McCrory decked out in a blue and green belted plaid kilt, renaissance-looking soft leather boots, and no shirt, wicked man. Only a sash draped across his bronzed, muscular torso, hiding a wee bit o’ his well-sculpted chest. And a gold bracer caressed his bicep, like I wanted to do. Just to see if he was really as strong as he appeared to be. His green eyes captured mine, held me hostage, and challenged me to join him. “Uhm, Rick, I’ll be right back.” Maybe. The gold bracer alone that Robert...