Happy St. Patrick’s Day! May the Luck O’ de Irish be with ya today, and I hope you catch your very own leprechaun!

Abigail O’Malley wants to find true love…which is about as easy as catching a leprechaun.

Leprechauns, St. Patrick's Day, Savannnah, Ga, Author Paula Millhouse

 

****************************************************

Excerpt

Michael McKnight heard Abby’s plea, felt the waves of magic radiating out to him from the fairy charms she’d acquired, and the instant she asked and put that door at the base of the grand live oak he bent time and space to get to her. Banished for the last ten years for the misuse of his magic—and for hoarding gold—he had spent a life apart from her, one that had literally been a living hell.

But I’ve paid my debt, and nothing will keep me from her now.

She rounded the tree, screamed, and dropped in her tracks.

Panic seized him. He tossed away his tiny green hat and dove for her, catching her head in his small arms before she hit the dirt. She’d crashed. Totally passed out. Dusted the fallen leaves with her golden-red locks. Good God, she’s not breathing!

“Abby? Abby! Wake up, Abby!” His frantic voice filled the woods. He’d scared the precious thing to death. “What have I done? Damn it, Abby, don’t do this to me! Come on, sweetheart, wake up!” No. He couldn’t lose her now that she’d called for him. “Please! Abby, come back to me!”

Getting caught by a human was end-game for any leprechaun, but Michael wanted her to catch him. He’d loved her since they were children, and sometimes he thought he’d dreamed her into life. She’d never recognize him now—penance for his sins included the curse of living in this ridiculously tiny body with the green felt hat and shoes. But he didn’t care. Whatever she needed, he’d be sure to see she got. If he could. There were limits to magic, of course.

He shook her, his chest crushing in on itself as he willed her awake. Then a breath escaped her lips and she gasped, and Michael froze.

“Praise God Almighty, she’s alive.”

His eyes roved every inch of her, seeking injuries. His trembling hands felt her scalp and neck. No bumps. No blood. The tension in his chest eased. She’d merely fainted at the sight of him. That could be good or bad. He chose to go with good.

“Ah, lass, you’re overcome with the sight of me.” He stared at her and smiled, hugged her close in his arms and drew in a deep breath. He cradled her head, her angelic face graced by those waving locks of long ginger hair. And freckles. Everywhere. Michael chuckled. My lassie, Irish through and through.

He reached out and reverently touched her face. When they’d played together as children he’d wanted to kiss her. Now he pulled her close and drew in a breath. Peaches and cream. She smelled like heaven. Her ample chest rose and fell underneath a navy blouse that set off the color of her porcelain skin and hundreds—no, thousands—of freckles. Long legs stretched out from underneath her sleeping frame. She’d grown up during the years he was kept away.

He peeked down the length of those denim-covered legs, and his face blew wide with a smile when he saw her bare feet. A work of art, her toes were painted red and perfectly pedicured. The shoes she wore lay askew from her fall, and he scrambled over to assess them. Professional curiosity. One of the heels had snapped clean off.

His face fell. Three-inch heels? No wonder she’d fallen. Who wore such beautiful things outside to plant fairy charms? But his Abigail had always fancied her shoes, and he’d yearned to make her a pair for well over a decade.

He inspected her feet. The arch was perfect, her toes a wonder, and her bare feet drew him in. A desire to give her a foot rub almost overcame him, but he forced his eyes back up her body to her face. To her lips. One simple kiss and he would die a happy man. He’d lived for this, watching her, using his magic and gold to pay the fairies to dance for her when they were both so young….

He took his chance while she lay there unaware. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers and stole his kiss. She stirred. Unable to control himself, Michael kissed her again. Then he eased back as her red-blonde lashes fluttered open to reveal sapphire eyes. His heart raced as for a second he glimpsed his future, and that future was good.

Then Abby’s eyes flew wide, she screamed and seized him in her hands. “For the love of God, you’re a leprechaun!”

Folklore about these little men swam in Abby’s clouded head as she reared up, the creature’s lapels in her grasp. Leprechauns were a sort of fairy without wings. But also… “Gold! Good God! Leprechauns are magic fairies who own gold!”

                He narrowed his eyes. “That’s the best you can do?”

***************************************************

THREE WISHES, Paula Millhouse, fairies, fairy, leprechaun, St. Patrick's Day, www.paulamillhouse.com

 

2.Savannah and Three Wishes.Large

Have you ever been to Savannah for St. Patrick’s Day? I have, and it’s amazing. That’s what inspired Three Wishes. I hope you enjoy the story!

Marmalade’s First Christmas a new #contemporary #romance by @pmillhouse #RLFblog

Marmalade’s First Christmas a new #contemporary #romance by @pmillhouse #RLFblog

Author Paula Millhouse, Marmalade's First Christmas, Contemporary Romance, Holidays, Kitten, Love, season, giving, hot chocolate recipe

I’m so excited to be featured over at Kayelle Allen’s Romance Lives Forever Blogspot. Today is Super Tuesday for Marmalade’s First Christmas.

Come join in the fun, leave a comment, and check out all the details on my new holiday contemporary romance, Marmalade’s First Christmas.

https://romancelivesforever.blogspot.com/2016/11/millhouse.html

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LY2AGJ5

 


Meet my sweet little Marmalade!

Marmalade's First Christmas, novella, contemporary romance, kitten, stories, romance, holiday cheer, holidays, kindle, billionaire

Meet Marmalade, the cutest kitten on the Internet. He’s got matchmaking powers galore, and he loves to snuggle and purr. Marmalade brings out the magic of Christmas in this story of holiday love.


Connect with the people you love this holiday season over this decadent, sweet, hot chocolate #recipe.

Jake Simon's Hot Chocolate Recipe, Billionaire, Cook, Recipe, Love, Marmalade's First Christmas, Paula Millhouse, Kitten, Chocolate, Whipping Cream, Peppermint, Bailey's Irish Cream, Love, Romance, Cook, treat, Christmas joy, cheer, Contemporary romance, season, holiday, love,chocolate, sex

Jake’s Rich Holiday Hot Chocolate:

Ingredients:

2 cups heavy whipping cream

8 oz (1 Cup) Dark Chocolate (Substitute your favorite Milk Chocolate if desired)

2 Tbsp of your favorite Cream Liqueur (Jake uses Baileys Irish Cream)

3 Cinnamon Sticks

1 tsp fresh grated Nutmeg

Candy Canes for stirring

Directions:

Heat whipping cream gently on low-medium heat, in a saucepan, and do not boil. Keep heat at a simmer.

Cut up dark chocolate into small pieces, and float into simmering cream. Stir well until chocolate is incorporated.

Float cinnamon sticks in the simmering chocolate cream.

Pour into Christmas mugs.

Douse with a generous splash of your favorite Cream Liqueur.

Grate fresh nutmeg over the Hot Chocolate.

Garnish with a candy cane to stir.

Serve generously to the people you love.

© Paula Millhouse 2016


Love is the magic ingredient of Christmas.

Paula Millhouse, Christmas, Holiday gift giving, 2016, kitten, hot chocolate, recipes, romance, ebook, kindle, Mamalade's First Christmas
MARMALADE’S FIRST CHRISTMAS

Book Buy Links:

“Freaking mermaids…” #Weekend Writing Warriors/ #SnippetSunday 4-3-16

Here’s the setup: When creatures like vampires, werewolves, or even innocent looking fairies go rogue and endanger human lives The Knight’s Watch Brigade shows up and stops them. This story features Samantha “Sam” Silverton and her trusty sidekick Max.

Last week’s last line:  I leapt up onto the side-rail of the “Fish-&-Get-‘Em” and dove down into the turquoise blue water.


 

   “Freaking mermaids…” My words were clear and pure underwater, but if any humans had been near they would have only heard a distortion, a fracture of my voice.

     The stories I’d read in human literature spoke of mermaids as denizens of the deep who lured sailors to their deaths. Those tales were in truth, based on fact. This one was the latest Uber-bitch of the deep, and I wondered if Moriah’s story would change the history books.

    Spotting the fish-tailed floozie, I stalked over the coral toward the floundering mermaid. The fishing line was wrapped around her scaled hips several times, and she struggled to free herself. “Looks like I foul-hooked you – too bad the barb missed your mouth.”

     The mermaid stopped, turned and glowered at me, her blond hair floating around her like an angel’s halo. “How dare you?”

 


 

Every weekend a wonderful blog hop happens where the Weekend Writing Warriors share creative snippets of their stories. Click the box below to visit the other bloggers. Like our posts, share our posts, and leave a comment if you’re of a mind to.

35105-weekend_writing_warriors_header3

And, if you’re lucky enough to join the awesome writers over at the Facebook Snippet Sunday group, then you’re lucky enough. Happy reading!


Happy April, Warriors. As always, I love to read your feedback in the comments. This story is really shaping up, and while Max the talking cat is not on deck this week, he’ll be back shortly. You can click the LIKE button to let me know you’ve been here. Happy writing.

 

Photo (c) photocreo/depositphotos