Blurb:
Divided by Centuries
Diana Dearborn knows all about romance, at least in the books she writes. But passion eludes her in real life-until she’s offered the chance to travel back in time to Camelot. The world of King Arthur and Guinevere is nothing like she pictured, and neither is the knight she encounters upon her return to San Francisco: Gawain, the hero of her current project. He’s complicated, mysterious, and sexier than anything her imagination could conjure. And he’s been waiting for her…
Entwined by Desire
Now, joined together in a desperate race, Diana and Gawain must prevent an ancient, evil force from wreaking mayhem in the all-too-real present. Diana must learn to trust Gawain, even while she encounters secrets about her own past. But even if their mission succeeds, does Diana’s destiny lie with this man from another time-and will their love alter history forever?
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Excerpt:
The machine that lowered the casket into the ground made a grinding noise. They really ought to oil the mechanism. Fog rolled in as the light faded. Diana pulled her black wool cape tighter around her shoulders. Spring in San Francisco still seemed far away in March. A guy waited in a small tractor-thing to scoop dirt back into the fresh grave over by the huge camellia bush, maybe fifty feet away from her parents’ grave. Indoor-outdoor carpet was draped over the excavated pile, as if that would camouflage the finality of dirt.
She looked down at her parents’ brass plaque, now three years old. They were together finally, but she was entirely alone. Would she ever find for herself the love they’d shared? The fact that you adopted me is the reason I can write romances. I knew two people who found love.
Diana heaved in a breath and pulled her eyes away from the simple plaque. She turned and sloshed down the slope. Her car looked lonely in the visitor’s parking lot. Fitting. She’d always felt… separate. Maybe it was because she didn’t know where she really belonged, since she didn’t remember anything before she was thirteen. Or maybe it was because she had… well, to be kind she’d call them quirks. Like being able to find things that were lost and hearing what people would say just before they said it-not what they were thinking, just what they would say. What use was that? It was like living inside a constant round robin song. And she couldn’t reveal it or people would think she was crazy. She’d never told anyone, not even her parents. So she wasn’t really close to anyone. Not really.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, she closed her eyes, hugging her shoulder bag. Her life was getting beyond her control. She couldn’t even write anymore. She had only twenty-five pages done on the novel that was due next month. The whole thing made her want to rip her hair out. Much as she loved the setting of Camelot and her hero, Gawain, the romance just wouldn’t come to life. She’d give back the advance and call it a day but the money was already gone. She was still paying off the last year of nursing home care for her father. Happy endings seemed to be in short supply right now, fictional or not.
She put her shoulder bag on the passenger’s seat beside her. The priceless book inside had been taking up more and more of her thoughts. It was by Leonardo DaVinci.
Yeah. That DaVinci. She’d be set her for life if she sold it, but her horror at even the thought of selling the book made the word “obsession” seem inadequate. She carried it around constantly, unable to bear even leaving it at the apartment. Okay. If she was admitting things, she slept with it. But sometimes it seemed that book was the only thing that was real to her anymore.
Whoa. Obsession over a book, writer’s block. She had to admit she’d been depressed. All on top of her little natural proclivities…she needed a therapist. As if she could afford one. Unless she sold the book. But she probably couldn’t sell the book without some serious therapy. Well, that was circular.
She took two deep breaths and started the car. Okay. Time to go home to her little apartment just east of the Mission District. Unable to help herself, she reached over to touch the book. The way it had come into her life was a little surreal…
About Susan:
Susan Squires grew up among the giant redwoods of California. She thought she was being practical by changing her major in college from theater to English literature. Immersed in a PhD. Program, she slowly realized that none of her graduating friends had work. So she dropped out after receiving a Master’s degree to take an paying job in the business world.
As an executive in a Fortune 500 company, she returned to her love of writing while continuing to hold her day-job, much to the amusement of her fellow executives. Her novel Danegeld, had already been purchased by Dorchester by the time she accepted a Golden Heart for Best Unpublished Paranormal Manuscript from Romance Writers of America. It was the first of an eclectic group of historical and contemporary paranormal stories known for their intensity. Body Electric was named by Publishers Weekly one of the ten most influential paperbacks of 2002, for blending romance and science-fiction. Book List compared No More Lies to the works of Robin Cook and Michael Crichton, but it was also a Rita finalist for Best Published Paranormal Romance by Romance Writers of America.
Susan’s Companion Series for St. Martin’s Press, continued to garner attention with admiring reviews and several visits to the New York Times Bestseller List. Publishers Weekly named One with the Shadows a Best Book of the Year, and several of the series received starred reviews. Her books have won the many regional contests for published works of paranormal romantic fiction.
Susan no longer has to use tales of romance and adventure to escape budgets and projects. She finally left her day job, and researches and writes her books at the beach in Southern California, supported by three Belgian Sheepdogs and a wonderful husband named Harry who writes occult mysteries as H.R. Knight.
Author Contact:
Website: http://www.susansquires.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSusanSquires
Twitter: http://twitter.com/susansquires
Molly Lolly 