The Wild Geese Book 7
by Cynthia Owens
Genre: Historical Romance
Like the Wild Geese of Old Ireland, five boys grew to manhood despite hunger, war, and the mean
streets of New York
The War had left him blind to beauty…
Kieran Donnelly is a gifted artist who has sworn never to paint again. He saw and did too many things during the war to extinguish the ugliness that lies in his heart. But a chance to work with some of the most magnificent paintings brings him close to the world he still loves…and an extraordinary woman who sees his true heart.
Darkness couldn’t extinguish the light in her heart.
Blind from the age of four, Emily Lawrence yearns to experience the outside world. When she hires Kieran Donnelly to catalogue her father’s paintings, he offers her a glimpse at life outside her exquisite home…and a chance for a future.
Can Kieran and Emily emerge from the darkness to find happiness and love?
**easily read as a standalone!**
Emily’s breath caught in her throat. His hard thigh pressed warmly against hers. He smelled of paint and turpentine and cologne. His gentle voice teased her senses, made her heart pound and her body tremble. If she moved her face just a little … She didn’t have to. He caught her chin in his hand, raised her face to his, and claimed her mouth with such tenderness she almost cried out. “Emily. Sweet Blackbird.” He murmured the words against her lips. He always thought of her that way, although he rarely voiced the words. “I don’t ever want you to be afraid or sad. You should always be happy.” A sigh escaped her as his thumb brushed her lower lip. “D’you know you have the most beautiful mouth, as red and sweet as a wild strawberry?” Another kiss, softer, yearning, as his knuckles caressed her cheek. “And the softest skin…like satin, it is, only warmer, more alive …” His lips brushed over her cheek, oh, she couldn’t breathe! But what did it matter, with Kieran’s lips on her skin, his warm hand caressing her back, the low rumble of his voice twining around her like a tender vine? “Kieran.” His name felt soft on her lips. She reached out to stroke the hard line of his jaw, feeling him grow rigid. “Kieran … please …” He pulled her closer, closer still, and his breath came harder. “Ah, sweet Heaven. Emily … darlin.’ Kiss me, love. Kiss me … Emily … Em …” She could only open her mouth under his and gasped as his tongue slid into her mouth. Hot little sizzles danced over her, even as tiny chills chased over her arms. Had anything ever felt so exquisite?
I believe I was destined to be interested in history. One of my distant ancestors, Thomas Aubert, reportedly sailed up the St. Lawrence River to discover Canada some 26 years before Jacques Cartier's 1534 voyage. Another relative was a 17thCentury "King's Girl," one of a group of young unmarried girls sent to New France (now the province of Quebec) as brides for the habitants (settlers) there. My passion for reading made me long to write books like the ones I enjoyed, and I tried penning sequels to my favorite Nancy Drew mysteries. Later, fancying myself a female version of Andrew Lloyd Weber, I drafted a musical set in Paris during WWII.
A former journalist and lifelong Celtophile, I enjoyed a previous career as a reporter/editor for a small chain of community newspapers before returning to my first love, romantic fiction. My stories usually include an Irish setting, hero or heroine, and sometimes all three!
I am a member of the Romance Writers of America, Hearts Through History Romance Writers, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. A lifelong resident of Montreal, Canada, I still live there with my own Celtic hero and our two teenaged children.
Where did you come up with the names in the story?
Most of my stories are either set in Ireland, or feature Irish characters. With 15 books already in print, I’ve had to search for names that exactly fit each character.
Like most writers, I have lists of potential character names. As well, I also look up names on the Internet. I’ve searched “baby name” sites so often, I’ve begun to get ads featuring diapers and formula!
For The Carousel, I didn’t have to search too far for my heroine’s name. Emily Lawrence, who is blind, is named for my grandmother, who was also blind. The Carousel is dedicated to Emma Laflamme, and I hope she’s proud of it—and me.
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