Posts tagged with: Oberon Wonch

Monster Mega Bandita Prize giveaway!

th_BanditBootySorry I’m so late posting the prizes won over the past couple of blogs.  As many of you know my Thanksgiving was not the best – I’m still trying to put the house back to rights – compounded by a book launch and I’m behind on life in general 🙂

However, that said – we have prizes to distribute!

From my Dominoes blog on November 23rd, SandyG265 wins a digital copy of CHARMING THE PROFESSOR.  Sandy, I need to know what email who want meCharmingtheProfessorfinal to use to send the gift from Amazon.

ComeToMe-500x7501From Oberon Wonch’s debut author blog on December 2nd, the winner of a digital copy of COME TO ME is Kate Sparks.  Kate, if you could go to Oberon’s website at and send her your contact information, I’m certain she’ll get that right out.

And Finally, from my CHARMING THE PROFESSOR launch on December 3rd, we have the following winners:

MaskColleen C– wins the Mardi Gras mask, a little voodoo keychain trinket, and a digital copy of CHARMING THE PROFESSOR.

Dianna – wins a digital copy of THE MOOR’S TEAR.Moors Tear 1600x2400

Janie McGaugh wins a digital copy of THE MOOR’S TEAR.

Just as a reminder, THE MOOR’S TEAR is the prequel, of sorts, to CHARMING THE PROFESSOR.

Ladies, if the three of you can contact me at and send me your contact info, I’ll get everything out immediately.

Thanks much for everyone’s participation and patience.  Hope you have a wonderful Christmas Holiday.  Don’t forget our Twelve Days of Christmas celebration that begins on December 13th.  We’ve love to have you join us!




Come to Me, new medieval debut

I’m honored to have a longtime writing friend join us today with her debut, Come to Me, published by Entangled Press.  Oberon has one of the most authentic medieval voices I’ve ever read.  Be sure to read the excerpt of her novel at the bottom of the post and see what I mean.  With that, let me present Oberon Wonch.

OberonThank you, Banditas, for having me today! I’m honored to be pampered in your lair. That Sven is a sweetie with his mimosas and cute little pumpkin tarts, isn’t he?

So, let’s talk romance. Did you all read the literary classics in school? The Scarlet Letter, Romeo and Juliet, Tess of the d’Urbervilles? Did you, like me, want the relationships in those books to work out for the protagonists? I even hoped Ishmael in Moby Dick would find a gal and settle down. With only a few notable exceptions, the books we were told best presented the human condition all ended unhappily, usually for the female protagonist (Anna Karenina, anyone?) but often for the male lead as well.

While reading these books—and many more in college as I pursued a degree in World Literature and studied masterpieces in their originalTales_serial languages—I was more interested in the romantic relationships between the heroes and heroines. I desperately wanted the protagonists to find love and happily-ever-afters.

Time after time upon reaching the finale, however, I was disappointed. Rather than sit back and nod sagely over how well the book demonstrated the wretchedness of life and our insignificance in a cruel world, I wept in frustration for the love that never was.

I longed for Tess Durbeyfield to escape her pursuers and be happy forever with her faithful Angel Clare, or for Hester Prynne and Reverend Frederick_Leighton_-_The_Reconciliation_of_the_Montagues_and_Capulets_over_the_Dead_Bodies_of_Romeo_and_JulietDimmesdale to overcome the villainous Chillingworth and sail off with their love child Pearl. For Juliet to awaken in time to stop Romeo from his rash and, frankly, cowardly act.

During this time, I was writing my own stories, too. Since grade school, I’d dreamed of entertaining readers the way my favorite authors did me. Jules Verne’s tales were a big influence on my early work. At some point in adulthood, I started reading romance novels, and thank heavens I did. There, I found a world of great literature, characters and conflicts pertinent to my life experiences, and men and women who overcame obstacles to live together in love and harmony. Bingo!

After that, I knew what I wanted to write. I think it was watching the movie Roxanne with Steve Martin and Daryl Hannah thatRoxanne really clinched it for me. That film is wonderful! Funny, lighthearted, tender with an HEA.

But it was based on a famous French play, Cyrano de Bergerac, written in 1897 by Edmond Rostand. You may have heard of this literary treasure in which the swashbuckling Cyrano of the Big Nose is too shy to court the lady he loves, but he helps his handsome, less glib friend do so by feeding him poetic love words to give to the lady. A fun, romantic trope, right?

However, did you know that play ended unhappily for poor Cyrano? Yes! He helped this handsome, young fellow court Roxanne, who actually marries the guy! It’s only years later, after Roxanne’s husband has been killed and Cyrano lies dying in her arms, that she learns Cyrano had been cyranobehind all the lovely words. How did such a story become synonymous with romance and courtship? Who knows!

It was seeing how the movie reworked the classic to have a happy ending that made me realize I could write romance as a way to sort of “fix” all those monuments of literature that had disappointed me.

Thus, my first book, Come to Me, was born. It’s a new treatment of the Cyrano story, set in my favorite time and place (medieval England), with a bit of the beloved and very romantic Sound of Music mixed in.ComeToMe-500x7501

HEA all around, thank you very much!

Do you have a romantic literary classic with a tragic ending that you would like to see made into a romance with a happy ending? Comment about it below. One commenter will be randomly chosen to receive a digital copy of Come to Me.


A maiden’s duty
becomes a woman’s desire…

Comte Grégoire FitzHenri, the new Earl of Shyleburgh, is known for his prowess as one of the Norman conqueror’s most favored warriors…but not for his romantic sensibility or his command of the English language. Now Grégoire wishes to court his elegant betrothed before taking his wedding vows—which means an interpreter…and much-needed lessons in courtly love.

Bridget of Shyleburgh has been secretly in love with Grégoire since his visit when he was promised in marriage to her sister. But when he returns five years later as their new earl, Bridget is tasked with translating for him—including his love letters and awkward attempts to woo her sister. Mortified at first, Bridget soon finds herself completely charmed by his whispers of love and desire. Grégoire’s heated missives tempt a fair maiden to stray down a path filled with forbidden pleasures.

But his words are meant for another…aren’t they?


Link to order:


Additional Excerpt:

Blind panic drained Bridget’s limbs of warmth. “I don’t read those kinds of poems. I read the gospels and ancient sages.”

FitzHenri ignored that. “Simply substitute Aislinn fair for Blancheflor, or Guinevere.”

“I tell you I don’t know those poems.”

“I’ll get you started.” His impassive gaze remained fixed on hers—that dark, forest-colored gaze with the blackest lashes. But when his fierce Norman lips moved again, Bridget instinctively sighted on them. She shivered over every delicious vowel he articulated. “Lady fair, of the crimson lips and snowy breast…”

Her face heated. Those words were so…so evocative, and she just knew she’d gone as red as the flamboyant apron Nurse wore on feast days. Heavens! And her sister was watching them!

She licked her lips and sucked in air. I can do this. I can do this.

After whirling stiffly toward Aislinn, she delivered the lord’s words in English as indifferently as she could.

Her sister blushed sweetly and averted her shining eyes. Bridget ground her jaw. Even Aislinn’s shyness was delicate and enchanting.

The earl said, “You know the rest. Tell her.”

“But I don’t know the rest!”

“Then make something up. You don’t expect me to utter these absurdities, do you? All that drivel and sniveling.”

She stared at him. “How is this possible? You are famed for wooing women and yet you don’t bring gifts. You don’t dance. You memorize love poems but sneer at them.”

“I’m a man of action. Not a minstrel.” He winked. “Tell her something…” In the air he waved a forefinger, drawing Bridget’s gaze to his handsome ring of garnet set in gold. “Something about her sweetness and lovely face.”

Bridget met her sister’s eager, bright eyes and observed the anticipation there. For whatever reason, Aislinn was making an effort to please her intended husband and be pleased by him. All Bridget needed to do was nudge her sister, metaphorically speaking, a little closer in his direction. Indulging the girl’s vanity was certainly a way to do it.

This was all part of her plan, she reminded herself. Let Aislinn believe the earl found her irresistible, that he loved her. What woman could resist that? Bridget would also convince his lordship that Aislinn loved him. Everyone would be happy. For, if Aislinn fell in love with the earl, Bridget could forget about him and his disturbing kiss. She could never desire the man her sister loved. Never.

So what if she had to fabricate some of the words? She was a creative sort.