Today we have the LOVELY London Saint James
to tell us all about her new release ~~
It’s All
About the Book…
*Please tell us about your current or upcoming release.
Rise of
the Lost Prince (Lost Boys)
Blurb:
They
fight to protect those who would never welcome them into the human world...
Petúr always
knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not
human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall
for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland.
Ever
since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold,
although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the
hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys.
With a
prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil darklings
out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and
claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time nemesis, Grapple
the Dark?
*What is this book’s genre?
Is this the genre you usually write in?
Are there any genre’s you haven’t written that you’d like to try?
The Genre
for Rise of the Lost Prince is: Erotic Paranormal Romance, Fairytale, Fantasy,
Action/Adventure, Gothic
To date,
most of my work falls within the contemporary erotic romance genre, BDSM, with
a few paranormal romances, and a western romance.
I haven’t
written in the historical romance genre’s, but I’m working on one. As far as
other genre’s, I’m always ready to give them a try. *Smiles*
*What inspired you to write this book?
Well, I suppose my muse had been pondering a
story based loosely on Peter Pan, only with sexy warrior types and a badass
version of Peter, which is named Petúr. FYI, my muse is a bit
crazy, because I was in the middle of writing another story, when the muse said
stop and write about Neverland. (Neverland is an abandoned seaside amusement
park) So, I listen to my muse, as I always do, sat the story I was writing
aside for the moment, and brought Neverland and the Lost Boys to life. Problem
was, the characters had much more to say. Maybe that’s not really a problem. *Smiles* But, we’ll see the rest of the cast of characters
again, since Rise of the Lost Prince is the first in the Lost Boy series.
*How did you pick its title?
Did it come first or did you have to write the story first?
I had the
story first, and was wavering back and forth on the title, so I went to my FB
group and gave them a synopsis of the book, mostly about the characters and
genre, and several of my FB group members suggested titles. Every Title was
fantastic, but the one that really spoke to me the most for this first Lost
Boys book was Rise of the Lost Prince. So, we can all thank the lovely Ursula
Avery, who gave me the winning title.
*How did you create your characters? Did you use any real life people in their
making?
When my muse tugged at me to write about
Neverland and the Lost Boys, the first thing that popped into my mind was all
the Lost Boys, and the hero Petúr. They had to be sexy and badass.
So warriors came. Then from there,
I just let my imagination flow and gave each of them some cool abilities.
No. No
real life people in their making I’m afraid. *Smiles*
*Who is your favorite character of this book and why?
I love them all. They are all different, but
while I love my heroine, and my hero. I think spunky and sassy Bell, whose one
of the integral cast of characters, is probably going to end up being my
favorite
as the series continues.
What is your favorite part of this book? Can you share an excerpt from that part?
This is after Petúr
has saved Wyndi from an evil darkling attack, and he notices more about her
than he wants to notice about a human woman.
“Ma’am?”
Her long lashes fluttered, causing spiky
shadows to stipple the tops of her cheeks. “I forgot my laptop. I need to get
it from my office,” she said. “That’s where I was going when I got mugged.”
“Here you go,”
said Dash. He’d gathered up the woman’s things and tucked them back into her
purse. “I don’t think he got anything.” He handed the tan bag over to her. “I
think we interrupted the mugger. Petúr tried to catch him, but he got away.”
“Thank you,” she
said, taking her scuffed-up purse.
“It’s a good thing
we were walking past this alley,” said Vibe. “We heard you scream and—”
“Yes,” she said in
a robotic voice, nodding. “You scared off the mugger.” She was looking at Petúr
in that unseeing, vacant way, the pupils in her eyes large and pulsing.
He inclined his
head. “Here,” he said. “Let me help you up.” He gave her his hand. She took
hold, and he couldn’t stop himself from noticing the petal softness of her
skin. After she was steady on her feet, he thought to introduce himself. No
need to be uncivilized. “I’m Petúr.” He pointed to his right. “That’s Vibe.”
Vibe gave her a two finger salute. Petúr tilted his head to his left. “And
that’s Dash.”
“I’m Wyndi,” she
said, her voice becoming less animated. “Wyndi Darlingheart.”
“Of Darlingheart
Incorporated?” Petúr asked.
She brushed a few
strands of hair from her face. “In a roundabout way.”
What did that
mean?
“Roundabout?” Dash
asked the question he himself was dying to know.
She glanced at
Dash and kept her gaze trained on him for a long moment. A too long moment.
Something hot and possessive twisted in Petúr’s gut. He wanted to reach out and
turn her pointed little chin back in his direction, away from the other
warrior.
“Cromwell
Darlingheart is my father,” she said.
That piece of
information got the muscle in Petúr’s jaw to working and quickly stamped out
the unusual possessiveness he’d been experiencing.
“Father?” he
asked, needing the confirmation one more time.
She nodded and
looked up. Her sky-blue gaze went to his mouth then flitted up to his eyes, locking
with him. She gasped.
“What?”
The woman welded
her beautiful eyes shut and muttered, “Nothing.”
Could she be
afraid of him? No. He didn’t think it was fear he saw swimming in the depths of
those liquid blue pools. More like realization of him, mixed with feminine
lust.
His golden gaze
meandered over her, catching on her cleavage a moment, before moving on to the
shape of her hips. Curvaceous. He
cleared his throat. Her long lashes fluttered open. Unable to help himself, he
was staring at her spectacular face once again. She worked her bottom lip over
with her teeth.
She was an oddly
captivating, deliciously sweet smelling, eye sparkling female with a mouth he
wanted to taste. Taste? Really? He
mulled that over for a moment. Yes. He wanted... No. What he was experiencing
was more than mere want. He needed to taste her. All of her, he realized taken aback.
He’d been with
numerous women before in a quick, rough coupling just to satisfy his
animalistic desires, however he was having thoughts he’d never had.
Animalistic, yes, but….
He studied her,
the arch of her brows, the way strands of her hair framed her face. How
delicate she was compared to him. Wyndi
Darlinghart. He allowed her name—the daughter of the rich scum-sucking
asshole who’d purchased Neverland, intent on clearing the land, as well as him
and the lost boys out of their home—to simmer.
Her sweet cotton
candy scent assaulted his nose once more. His dick stirred beneath the leather
of his D-ring jeans. Would she melt in his mouth like the candy would? His brow
furrowed. What was wrong with him? He took in another deep breath, allowing her
bouquet to linger. Maybe the ache would go away if he just tasted those full
lips. No. He shook his head in an attempt to shake away the urge.
Seconds ticked by.
Damn it. He couldn’t shake off what he was feeling. His eyes narrowed. Of all
the women in the world, why did it have to be this woman he seriously wanted to
thoroughly enjoy in a slow, lingering manner?
Because fate is a
cruel bitch. That’s why.
“She’s a Darlingheart,”
he heard Vibe say.
No. Not say, but
project inside his head.
“Right,” he
mumbled, but when Wyndi’s eyelids fluttered open, and she locked gazes with him
once more, all the hardened steel he’d erected around himself, as well his
common sense, fell away.
Crazy though it
might well be, Petúr found himself, for the first time in his long life,
wishing for more. More time with her.
He wanted to talk, and touch, and kiss. Shit. He wanted to kiss her so bad he
physically hurt.
He broke the eye
contact this time, and turned away. Who was he kidding? He might want more than
fast, anonymous, no strings attached sex, but he wasn’t a choirboy either. For
what he had in mind, there would be strings. Maybe even ropes.
“We’ll walk you to
your office,” Petúr said, unwilling to let her out of his sight, as he tried to
tell himself the over-protectiveness was necessary, even though darklings never
attacked the same person twice.
“Um…” Wyndi
muttered.
He watched her out
of the corner of his eye. “That’s where you said you were headed, right?”
“Yes.” She
straightened her shoulders and took the lead.
Petúr homed in on
the sway of those hips as she walked in front of him. Oh yeah. He might want more. More than he’d ever given or received
from any other woman, yet he also wanted to strip this little human, go to his
knees, and map her feminine folds with his mouth, listening to her call out his
name in a breathy entreaty as he tasted her pleasure upon his tongue.
*What
was the hardest part of this book to write? Can you share an excerpt from that
part?
Really, I
was lucky when I sat down to write this story because the story just flowed. I
love when that flow happens! So, honestly I can’t say there was any part that
was hard to do.
*Did you
have any special rhythm or quirks while writing this?
I don’t
think so. The only rhythm was to keep the pace as I flipped between the
different characters POVs and work toward interesting and exciting areas to
break and start those different POVs.
*Is this a
stand-alone book or is it part of a series?
If so, we want to hear about it and what’s next in the series. If not a series, what comes next to be
released?
Yes. Rise
of the Lost Prince is the first in a series called Lost Boys. What will come
next in the series is more action/adventure, paranormal, fantasy, and romance
as the story of each of the lost boys unfold, and they work at defeating
Grapple, and finding the portal into the world of the Fae.
*****
Rise of the Lost Prince
LOST BOYS BOOK 1
London Saint James
Paranormal, Fantasy, Action/Adventure,
Gothic
Petúr always
knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not
human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall
for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland.
Ever since
she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold,
although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the
hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys.
With a
prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil darklings
out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and claim what’s
rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time nemesis, Grapple the Dark?
Excerpt:
“Ma’am?”
Her long lashes fluttered, causing spiky
shadows to stipple the tops of her cheeks. “I forgot my laptop. I need to get
it from my office,” she said. “That’s where I was going when I got mugged.”
“Here you go,”
said Dash. He’d gathered up the woman’s things and tucked them back into her
purse. “I don’t think he got anything.” He handed the tan bag over to her. “I
think we interrupted the mugger. Petúr tried to catch him, but he got away.”
“Thank you,” she
said, taking her scuffed-up purse.
“It’s a good thing
we were walking past this alley,” said Vibe. “We heard you scream and—”
“Yes,” she said in
a robotic voice, nodding. “You scared off the mugger.” She was looking at Petúr
in that unseeing, vacant way, the pupils in her eyes large and pulsing.
He inclined his
head. “Here,” he said. “Let me help you up.” He gave her his hand. She took
hold, and he couldn’t stop himself from noticing the petal softness of her
skin. After she was steady on her feet, he thought to introduce himself. No
need to be uncivilized. “I’m Petúr.” He pointed to his right. “That’s Vibe.”
Vibe gave her a two finger salute. Petúr tilted his head to his left. “And
that’s Dash.”
“I’m Wyndi,” she
said, her voice becoming less animated. “Wyndi Darlingheart.”
“Of Darlingheart
Incorporated?” Petúr asked.
She brushed a few
strands of hair from her face. “In a roundabout way.”
What did that
mean?
“Roundabout?” Dash
asked the question he himself was dying to know.
She glanced at
Dash and kept her gaze trained on him for a long moment. A too long moment.
Something hot and possessive twisted in Petúr’s gut. He wanted to reach out and
turn her pointed little chin back in his direction, away from the other
warrior.
“Cromwell
Darlingheart is my father,” she said.
That piece of
information got the muscle in Petúr’s jaw to working and quickly stamped out
the unusual possessiveness he’d been experiencing.
“Father?” he
asked, needing the confirmation one more time.
She nodded and
looked up. Her sky-blue gaze went to his mouth then flitted up to his eyes,
locking with him. She gasped.
“What?”
The woman welded
her beautiful eyes shut and muttered, “Nothing.”
Could she be
afraid of him? No. He didn’t think it was fear he saw swimming in the depths of
those liquid blue pools. More like realization of him, mixed with feminine lust.
His golden gaze
meandered over her, catching on her cleavage a moment, before moving on to the
shape of her hips. Curvaceous. He
cleared his throat. Her long lashes fluttered open. Unable to help himself, he
was staring at her spectacular face once again. She worked her bottom lip over
with her teeth.
She was an oddly
captivating, deliciously sweet smelling, eye sparkling female with a mouth he
wanted to taste. Taste? Really? He
mulled that over for a moment. Yes. He wanted... No. What he was experiencing
was more than mere want. He needed to taste her. All of her, he realized taken aback.
He’d been with
numerous women before in a quick, rough coupling just to satisfy his
animalistic desires, however he was having thoughts he’d never had.
Animalistic, yes, but….
He studied her,
the arch of her brows, the way strands of her hair framed her face. How
delicate she was compared to him. Wyndi
Darlinghart. He allowed her name—the daughter of the rich scum-sucking
asshole who’d purchased Neverland, intent on clearing the land, as well as him
and the lost boys out of their home—to simmer.
Her sweet cotton
candy scent assaulted his nose once more. His dick stirred beneath the leather
of his D-ring jeans. Would she melt in his mouth like the candy would? His brow
furrowed. What was wrong with him? He took in another deep breath, allowing her
bouquet to linger. Maybe the ache would go away if he just tasted those full
lips. No. He shook his head in an attempt to shake away the urge.
Seconds ticked by.
Damn it. He couldn’t shake off what he was feeling. His eyes narrowed. Of all
the women in the world, why did it have to be this woman he seriously wanted to
thoroughly enjoy in a slow, lingering manner?
Because fate is a
cruel bitch. That’s why.
“She’s a Darlingheart,”
he heard Vibe say.
No. Not say, but
project inside his head.
“Right,” he
mumbled, but when Wyndi’s eyelids fluttered open, and she locked gazes with him
once more, all the hardened steel he’d erected around himself, as well his
common sense, fell away.
Crazy though it
might well be, Petúr found himself, for the first time in his long life,
wishing for more. More time with her.
He wanted to talk, and touch, and kiss. Shit. He wanted to kiss her so bad he
physically hurt.
He broke the eye
contact this time, and turned away. Who was he kidding? He might want more than
fast, anonymous, no strings attached sex, but he wasn’t a choirboy either. For
what he had in mind, there would be strings. Maybe even ropes.
“We’ll walk you to
your office,” Petúr said, unwilling to let her out of his sight, as he tried to
tell himself the over-protectiveness was necessary, even though darklings never
attacked the same person twice.
“Um…” Wyndi
muttered.
He watched her out
of the corner of his eye. “That’s where you said you were headed, right?”
“Yes.” She
straightened her shoulders and took the lead.
Petúr homed in on
the sway of those hips as she walked in front of him. Oh yeah. He might want more. More than he’d ever given or received
from any other woman, yet he also wanted to strip this little human, go to his
knees, and map her feminine folds with his mouth, listening to her call out his
name in a breathy entreaty as he tasted her pleasure upon his tongue.
About the Author:
London Saint
James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the
real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains
of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he
owns them.
As an
award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her
childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of
hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay
off someday.
Twitter: http://twitter.com/LSJRomance
FB Author
Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/London-Saint-James/154331444626603
google.com/+LondonSaintJames
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/LSJRomance
You can also
e-mail London with any questions or comments at London@londonsaintjames.com. She loves to hear from her readers.
Would you
like to know more? Join her mailing list for her monthly newsletter http://eepurl.com/6P2on. Or, join her book group on
Facebook, Slip Between the Pages with London https://www.facebook.com/groups/SlipBetweenthePageswithLondon/
Giveaway: $10 Amazon Gift Card
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Thank you so much for having me over to visit today :)
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