A semi-naked man, dressed in a kilt, strides through the mist, his dark cloak flapping around him…
What comment would Jung make of this archetype? Even more telling, what would he make of the creator of this image?
Because image it was.
With heart hammering, I woke up from this vivid dream. Who is this man? What does he want? Why is he so worried? He told me his name was “Connal”. And Connal would not be denied. He wanted his story told. Forget the other work-in-progress!
Immediately after breakfast, I sat down at the keyboard and began writing. Six weeks later and 120,000 words, I had my answers -- and more besides.
There followed 9 months of polishing and layering: my futuristic romance. CRYSTAL DREAMS was finished.
Nearly 18 months later, and after numerous NY rejects, a small press Australian publisher took up the book in 1998. I was at Griffin Press to see the first copy roll off the presses – literally hot off the presses. From there, the book was nominated for various awards, including short-listed finalist for the inaugural RWA’s R.B.O.T.Y Award (1999). Soon after publication, it hit the Dymocks Adelaide bookshop best-seller list: it was the first romance ever to reach the top ten listing. The following year, it again got into the top ten listing.
But just when I thought I might be heading towards the “big time”, fate had other ideas. My publisher went bankrupt, my agent was arrested for embezzlement, my father-in-law drowned and my father was diagnosed with cancer (my husband had died of it in 1995). Numerous other family accidents, illnesses and death all conspired to see my writing diverted for many years. I won’t say “died”, but it did come close, if not for the support of romance writer friends. (Thank you, RWA!)
So, last year, when my current publisher asked if I had the rights back for Crystal Dreams and would I consider signing a contract with her? -- I jumped at the chance. The book never really had the chance it deserved and I am pleased to let it have a fresh new look.
Readers have unanimously said that it is the characters that make this story un-putdownable. (Thank you for that!) I have to agree that Connal and Liandra are special… I hope readers will think so, too!
Crystal Dreams …
The fate of worlds hangs on a kiss.
Forced off-world to find his missing clansman, Caledonian Chieftain, Connal MacArran risks all when he onfronts Liandra Tavor – the alien witch. His simple plan goes horribly wrong from the moment they dream-share on Liandra’s crystal bed. A secret kept for over 700 years, and a lost kinsman are the least of his worries as he and Liandra face powerful enemies intent on destroying them, but the danger is nothing compared to forbidden desires and a love destined to burn brighter than a supernova. Can Connal and Liandra overcome their differences to face an enemy intent on enslaving the galaxy? The fate of worlds hangs on a kiss…
Excerpt:
But just when I thought I might be heading towards the “big time”, fate had other ideas. My publisher went bankrupt, my agent was arrested for embezzlement, my father-in-law drowned and my father was diagnosed with cancer (my husband had died of it in 1995). Numerous other family accidents, illnesses and death all conspired to see my writing diverted for many years. I won’t say “died”, but it did come close, if not for the support of romance writer friends. (Thank you, RWA!)
So, last year, when my current publisher asked if I had the rights back for Crystal Dreams and would I consider signing a contract with her? -- I jumped at the chance. The book never really had the chance it deserved and I am pleased to let it have a fresh new look.
Readers have unanimously said that it is the characters that make this story un-putdownable. (Thank you for that!) I have to agree that Connal and Liandra are special… I hope readers will think so, too!
Crystal Dreams …
The fate of worlds hangs on a kiss.
Forced off-world to find his missing clansman, Caledonian Chieftain, Connal MacArran risks all when he onfronts Liandra Tavor – the alien witch. His simple plan goes horribly wrong from the moment they dream-share on Liandra’s crystal bed. A secret kept for over 700 years, and a lost kinsman are the least of his worries as he and Liandra face powerful enemies intent on destroying them, but the danger is nothing compared to forbidden desires and a love destined to burn brighter than a supernova. Can Connal and Liandra overcome their differences to face an enemy intent on enslaving the galaxy? The fate of worlds hangs on a kiss…
Excerpt:
(explanation: Liandra was walking to her apartment in the Castle, when she is distraced by the sound of weapons clashing and men laughing. In shocked fascination she watches the men—Connal among them. Connal sees her lingering in the shadows and demands answers…)
“How long have you been watching me?”
She raised her chin. “What makes you think you are so important that I’d waste my time watching barbarians trying to kill one another with swords?”
Connal grinned. “Oh aye? This is our exercise. A sport. Men enjoy such.”
“Only you could consider it a sport.”
“And women enjoy watching it, too, judging by the look of you. Am I correct?”
“No,” Liandra said, indignantly.
“Then what were you doing standing there open-mouthed, if not enjoying? What I saw on your face demands clarification.”
“There’s a difference between observing and enjoying.”
He raised a disbelieving brow. “Truly? One day you must explain such distinctions.”
“A barbarian could not grasp the subtleties between the two.”
Connal grinned. Curling a finger under her chin, he raised her face. “I am not a barbarian, Liandra. Have I not proven that to you, yet?”
His voice had taken on that husky, seductive timbre, and as always at its sound, she felt her body pulse. Her heart thudded against her ribs. So close, Connal’s naked chest, his flushed skin glistening with perspiration, instead of feeling disgust at such a disheveled state, her nerve endings spiraled into her core, tightening and warming.
Her eyes lifted to a safer height. Or so she thought. His hair was tied back severely from his face, yet tendrils had escaped to curl against his brow and cheeks, giving him a roguish appearance. A barbarian rogue—that was what he was. Liandra smiled.
“I like not that smile of yours. It bodes ill for any man. And me in particular, I think.” Laughing gently, he stepped closer.
Liandra swallowed against the tight dryness in her throat as his musky male scent washed over.
I have a copy of Crystal Dreams to give away to one lucky commenter. Winner announced Wednesday.
~Astrid
