Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to London Saint James and her story Rise of the Lost Prince!
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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.
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Website ## Blog ## Twitter ## Facebook ## TSU ## Google+ ## Goodreads ## 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 ## Or, join her book group on Facebook Slip Between the Pages with London
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What inspired you to write the story you are promoting?
Well, as far as for Rise of the Lost Prince, I suppose my muse had been pondering a story based loosely on Peter Pan. If I had Peter, I had to have a cast of Lost Boy characters, too. I knew they had to be sexy warrior types and I had to have 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.
Did you do any interesting research for this book? If so, please share the process and what you learned. If not, why did you feel the story didn’t warrant research?
I did do some research into the mythical (or maybe not) world of the Fae creatures and their names (origins). It was really, very interesting. It took me into the world of elementals as well.
What was your process for coming up with the title and character names in the story you are promoting?
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. The character names came from a mixture of the fairytale Peter Pan, and the abilities of the characters I wrote about.
What is your favorite line, or scene, that you wrote in the story you are promoting? Why is it?
I think my favorite has to do with the aftermath of Petúr saving Wyndi from a darkling attack. This is when the hero and heroine first meet. Not within the best of circumstances. I love that he notices more than a victim, but the woman herself, and how taken aback he is by the realization he wants her.
Did you have a favorite drink and/or snack on hand while writing the story you are promoting? If so, what was it? If not, did you have something else that was special going on, like listening to music or where you wrote the story?
When I write, I have to have a big glass of Coca-Cola with a lot of ice. This is a must. And, if I have chocolate around, you can bet I’ll be snacking on that. *Yum* As far as music. Yes. Another must when I sit down to write. *Smiles*
What is something readers might not know about you and would be surprised to learn?
Hmm…. I once jumped off of a really high cliff into a deep spring of water just to try to get over my fear of heights.
Title: Rise of the Lost Prince from Series: Lost Boys
Written by: London Saint James and Published by: Evernight Publishing
Release: February 6, 2015
Genre: M/F Erotic Romance, Paranormal, Fairytale, Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Gothic
Word Count: 32K and Warning: Voyeurism, Violence
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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?
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“Where are we going?” Wyndi asked.
“My room.” Five rapid heartbeats later, they were inside his bedroom with Petúr kicking the door closed behind them. “I need to know something,” he said in his honey tones.
Wyndi glanced up at him from under her lashes, and shivered. He was staring at her with eyes glinting gold. The braid he wore in his hair dangled down the right side of his cheek, tickling her.
“What do you want to know?”
Petúr bent his head, slanted his mouth over hers, tongue tasting the line of her lips until she parted them on an intake of breath. When their flesh met, she closed her eyes. Fireworks exploded inside her head, the luminous sparks floating, then falling, falling, and transitioning into a force crashing down over her—a title wave of longing. She moaned, tasting the summer sky, morning dew, the sweetness of rainbows, sultry nights, and rain storms.
Mind whirling, her body shifting, she was lying on her back, fingers tangled into the nape of Petúr’s satiny hair, the other hand pressed against the steely strength of his shirt-covered chest. Every part of her became aware of him on some sort of molecular level. Yet nothing could have prepared her for what she experienced when he tucked himself between her thighs and groaned. Heat slammed into her core. Her stomach quivered. Her panties dampened. An inferno. Yes, surely it must be an inferno which lapped at her skin while their tongues tangled into infinity.
Petúr was lost in an ocean of sensation, wave after wave, pulling him under. The connection to this woman beneath him was undeniable. Everything about Wyndi filled him up until there was nothing but her. Her taste. Her touch. Her scent. His chest expanded.
Damn, her scent. She tasted better than the cotton candy fragrance that wafted from her skin. Skin. Oh, yes, skin. That’s what he needed, to feel her soft skin against his.
“Wyndi.” He breathed, saddened to break the kiss, reaching over his shoulder, yanking the material of his shirt, lifting up with the other hand, and pulling the garment from over his head. “I must feel your flesh against mine.”
Her tongue darted out, licking her lips. Was she nervous? Well, he’d be the balm to soothe those nerves. He focused on her mouth. Those delicious lips were kiss swollen and moist, making his cock strain even more against the constraint of his pants.
“Okay,” she said in a small, breathy voice, the lids covering her blue eyes at half-mast.
He reached for the hem of the too big nightshirt covering the body he had to see, lifting until he revealed her little white panties and lacy bra covered breasts. Blood raced through his veins. He wanted to do everything with her. To her. Touch all over. Taste every inch of her. Put his fingers and cock into the tight, warm sheath he knew was awaiting him.
Take her. Hell yeah. Those two words became a chant within his mind. He wanted to take his woman in every position he could imagine and then some. His woman? Yes. Yes she was his, or would be. Slow your roll. You don’t want to scare her. He had to maintain. He couldn’t go at her like some out of control beast.
Leaning down, he kissed between the creamy mounds of her cleavage, skimmed his cheek across the apex of her right breast, watching goose bumps scatter across her flesh in a wanton invitation. Unable to stop himself from licking her, he lapped at her in one, long, lingering stroke, from the top edge of the bra, up her collarbone, only stopping because the material he’d lifted hindered his progress being bunched around her neck.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “You taste so good.”
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London Saint James, thank you for stopping by today!
Love & blessings to all! ❤