Today, author and friend Camelia Miron Skiba stops by to leave a guest post for us, and to announce the release of her newest book, Born in Sin, which is book 2 in the Dacian Legends series. I had the chance to read this book, so beneath Camelia's guest post is my review of the book.
by Camelia Miron Skiba
DACIAN LEGENDS, # 2
Loathing the thought of his beloved Oriana in the arms of another man, fearless Zyraxes delivers death upon the Roman enemy. With only the rugged land as his bed and the sky as his blanket, trouble finds him often.
Summoned to aid Oriana’s father in the war against two powerful enemies—one of them Oriana's savage husband—Zyraxes proves himself worthy of more than just noble titles and coin. But he wants none of it. What he wants is her.
When Zyraxes discovers a broken and nearly dead Oriana, though forbidden, he disregards her father's orders to leave her to her death, and instead chooses to protect and conceal her. Will saving her be enough to win her heart? Will his part royal lineage make him worthy of her love?
Guest Post—Regrets
by Camelia Miron Skiba
There
are two regrets I’ve accumulated in my whole life and while I try not to dwell
on them sometimes they resurface to remind me what I could’ve done differently.
One
of those regrets is not taking enough photos of Patrick when he was little. Too
busy licking my own wounds after I divorced his biological father, too
overwhelmed as a single parent and too scared about the future, buying a camera
was not top priority on my to-do list. He was only 9 months at that time. I
wish there is a way I could go back and immortalize on paper those memories I
have kept in my heart—chubby cheeks, curious big blue eyes, blond shiny hair,
adorable smile, loving hands. I pray I’ll never lose my mind because the
memories of him as a baby are the most treasured from a time in my life I call “Looking
for me.”
My
second regret is smoking. I started when I was only 16, rebelling against my
father who always threatened he’d make me eat the cigarette if he ever found me
smoking. That coming from a man who woke up middle of the night to smoke and
had packs of cigarettes in every pocket. I used to leave the house earlier in
the morning and meet my friends in the park to smoke before classes started.
The same cigarette made it from mouth to mouth until there was nothing left.
Talk about exchanging different
bodily fluids and God knows what diseases.
These memories I wish I can erase not
only from my mind but from my life entirely. Because I poisoned my body for
quite a few years until one day I woke up, smoked one last cigarette and told
myself, “I’m done.” Never again picked up another cigarette. And while many,
many years have passed since, I sometimes wonder when will I pay the price for being
so reckless. Because there is no such thing as free of charge.
I rush to Oriana’s side, pain splitting
my heart in pieces. “My queen, you don’t recognize me?”
“Oh, Zyraxes, why did you come? You
shan’t see me this way …” Oriana hides her face behind Thera’s shoulder,
tugging at the torn rag covering her fragile body. She struggles to sit up, but
she falls back on the ground with a cry.
“Oriana …” I place a hand on her arm,
then withdraw it. She’s hot to the touch, feverishly hot. Seeing the queen of
my heart so hurt and broken is harder than her rejection. I must save her, I
must. The knot in my throat chokes me. I haven’t cried since my mother died.
“Oriana … remember when you broke your
wrist?” I have to whisper or she’ll know how weak I am, tears of helplessness
brimming my eyes.
With a little spark in her glassy blue
eyes, she holds her right wrist at her chest. More bruises cover both her arms,
her left hand wrapped in a dirty cloth.
I pray she remembers. Her nod gives me
hope.
“Remember the splinter and the bandages
I wrapped your arm in and told you not to remove for three weeks?” She nods
again. I take her wrist and kiss it, then stroke it. At first she tries to pull
away, but now her arm rests in my hand. “And remember how I threatened to tell
your father about you climbing the tree when you took it off only a week
later?”
Oriana smiles between tears. Her voice
is above a whisper, “I do not want you to see me this way …”
“I am not. I only see you need my aid.
Please, Oriana, let me serve you. Please?”
About the Author
I’m a sinner
I love my books
I conjure hooks
And heroes with good looks
Romance is my guilty pleasure
Taking me to places with new decor
Come join me if you dare
I promise not to bore
Taking me to places with new decor
Come join me if you dare
I promise not to bore
If you like to read my stories
Pray my husband continues snorin’
For he’s the one who keeps me up at night
When I give my heroes wings and flight.
Pray my husband continues snorin’
For he’s the one who keeps me up at night
When I give my heroes wings and flight.
WEBSITE: LOVE. WTHOUTYOU
TWITTER: @CamiSkiba
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: CameliaMiron Skiba
Thanks for hosting me, chickie. Your review sure warms up my heart. Thank you and the rest of the peeps for watching over me while my stories shape into what they are today. xoxo
ReplyDeleteYou are very welcome. I meant every word of the review, it's a great story. xoxo right back atcha! :o)
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