Posts Tagged ‘Marie Treanor’

Exclusive Excerpt

Exclusive Excerpt: Marie Treanor’s THE PRISONER OF SILVERWOOD CASTLE

Prisoner of Silverwood Castle Marie Treanor

We’re almost done with the week. You know what that means, kids? Rewards! Enjoy this fantastic little excerpt from Marie Treanor‘s The Prisoner of Silverwood Castle, out now!


I forgave her all over again when I saw my bedchamber. It was in the old part of the castle, and it had a low, vaulted ceiling and bare, unplastered stone walls on which hung some ancient and very dusty tapestries. Since it was growing dark, I lit the lamp and stood on my trunk to reach the little window catch. I had to wrestle with it to make it open, as if the cobwebs were trying to hold it shut. Although my sisters would not have approved of the housekeeping—and in fact, even I considered a little dusting to be in order here—I liked the little chamber far more than Augusta’s grand, luxurious apartments. It seemed I had maligned my brother-in-law the duke, and he understood me much better than I had thought.

In perfect charity with him, I unpacked my clothes, seized a clean gown to wear for the rest of the evening, and put the rest away in the oak wardrobe which looked a little out of place but was at least useful. I washed my face in the bowl provided, gasping at the coldness of the water, then brushed and repinned my hair, and, with difficulty, found my way back to Augusta’s apartments.

She had a bedroom, a dressing room, a cosy dining room, and a large sitting room. They were all utterly feminine, with no sign of the duke’s accoutrements, so I could only assume his rooms were elsewhere. Perhaps through one of the two doors at the end of the sitting room. I wasn’t sure I would care to live like that if I was married. Provided I liked my husband, of course, and I had long ago decided that nothing except actual love would induce me to marry anyone, however rich, powerful, or influential. Fortunately, my brother the earl seemed to be content with those commodities he’d already gained through my sisters’ marriages, Augusta’s being very much his trump card. So I doubted I would have to fight very hard for my independence. Once I got away from Augusta.

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Exclusive Excerpt

Adult Excerpt of THE DEAD OF HAGGARD HALL by Marie Treanor

The Dead of Haggard Hall Marie Treanor

Okay, listen, not to brag, but we’re about to make Hump Day [lewd secondary joke redacted] the hottest day of the week. We’ve got a scintillating scene just for paranormal fans (but we welcome any and all newcomers) from the amazing Marie Treanor. Don’t read this one at work because—for the first time EVER—we’ve got an excerpt that’s too sexy AND too spooky!

The Dead of Haggard Hall is out now!

“Patrick,” she whispered, and then again in a wail that chilled my blood. “Patrick!”

“Rose, Rose, don’t be upset,” I tried to soothe her as she all but blasted her way out of me. “Help me to discover the truth. Please! I can carry messages to and from you if you just talk to me some more.”

I heard the hint of desperation in my own voice, knew it wasn’t good, but my solitude up here wasn’t guaranteed forever, and I was very aware of passing time.

“Rose.” I held out my hand in supplication. “Please talk to me again. Please.” I was striving towards her, calling her with every ounce of will I had. I didn’t even feel the arrival of the uninvited until it crashed into me with a jolt, spilling into every part of me, cold, malevolent, familiar. My soulless, sentient bag of emotion from last night. I should have been ready for it, but I wasn’t. And I couldn’t control it and speak to Rose at the same time.

Rose wasn’t staying. I felt her and the other ghosts withdrawing from me in distaste as the thing pushed me onto my back, zipping through all the most intimate places of my mind and body.

“Rose,” I gasped. “Please stay, just wait… ” With an effort, I tried to heave the thing out of me, but during my distraction, it had got too strong a grip on me. I had to let Rose go, release the last strand of invisible cord that had bound her to my world, and concentrate all my attention on expelling my uninvited guest.

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Guest Post

Guest Post: “In an ORDINARY Highland village?” by Marie Treanor

Imagine, if you will, far from the noise and chaos of city life, the wild, rolling hills of the Scottish Highlands. It’s probably raining – it usually is – and a bit cold, but you’re surrounded by scenery so beautiful and so peaceful, it makes you want to cry with awe. There are no traffic noises, no other people to be seen. The only sounds are the singing of birds as the rain eases off, and perhaps the odd bleat of a sheep.

You get back in your car and continue to drive along a single track road – winding and so narrow that if you meet a car coming the other way, one of you has to back up to a hewn out passing place, or you risk ending up in a ditch.

From the summit of a hill, you catch your first glimpse the sea. You can make out a few scattered islands, maybe the odd ferry or fishing boat.

At the foot of the hill, right on the coast, is a picturesque village: a scattering of mostly older houses, a couple of small shops, a pub, a tiny public library, a harbour with a few little boats tied up, a small, ancient church with a graveyard whose memorial stones go back hundreds of years. The signpost pointing to the village says “Ardknocken 2 miles”.

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