or so it seems. A mountain of paperwork, childhood sickness (that my youngest seems intent to check off one after the other during this, his first year of school), and personal stuff – like when you fall down one flight of stairs, break one teeny little bone in your foot and there’s just all kinds of problems. Sheesh. Anyway, life happens, right? Good stuff too – like picking out an engagement ring – woohoo!
And…yes! Connyn’s story is finally in the works. No timetable yet. Or promises. I might have a lot of work to do on it once my editor reads through it. Or it could be chunked. One never knows. I hope not of course. I think everyone’s going to love seeing Connyn meet his match in his mate!
I loved writing their story. They both are such strong characters. Like steel on flint – and the sparks fly everytime they get together! I’ve already posted their first kiss (well, part of it anyway 
), but here’s a little excerpt of Aurora getting to know Connyn better. (Unedited and unofficial)
The man had enough ego to sustain a revival of Sparta. She eyed Connyn over the top of her cheeseburger and wondered just how closely an Ilyrian could be compared to that ancient civilization. Were they all merciless warriors who considered themselves unbeatable and the gods’ gift to all things military?
Connyn’s right eyebrow arched. “Yes?”
“I was wondering about your world?”
“Our world.”
“Right. Exactly my point.”
“You haven’t stated a point my comment could either support or negate. And I have been tutoring you in our traditions, lore and history for the past several hours.”
True. He’d been lecturing her in the car since Lubbock and would have made a great professor. He had the arrogant didacticism down stone cold. She appreciated the information, just not the delivery. However, at this point, she would take what she could get. Aurora put down her cheeseburger. “Are you the norm for Ilyria?”
“Excuse me?”
“The norm. Usual. Are all the men and women like you?”
“Your question is too vague to be answered adequately. What exactly are you referring to?”
Aurora picked up a french fry and waved it around in an exasperated circle. “Just like that. The way you talk—”
“What’s wrong with the way I speak?”
She bit the fry in two. She had his complete, if irritated, attention. “It’s very…royal.”
He sat back against the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course. I am a Royal. Heir to the Third House of Kilth.”
“I mean you tend to be condescending.”
“I do not.”
Forgetting the other half of the fry she had just stuffed into her mouth, she snorted and nearly choked herself. Connyn started to rise, but she gestured him down and eased her coughing fit with a drink of Diet Coke. When she could breathe again, she nodded her head. “Yes, you do. For example, you assume you’re always right.”
“Being right is not the same as being condescending.”
“No one is always right.”
He simply responded by smugly raising his eyebrows.
“See? Right now. You’re doing it.”
He frowned, but it cleared as quickly as it had come. “Ah.”
“Ah? What the hell is Ah?”
“You are obviously upset because you’ve been wrong about nearly everything since we’ve met and are feeling embarrassed about it. So your typical feminine response is to try to find fault with me.”
Aurora’s jaw dropped.
“Don’t worry,” he continued when she couldn’t force sound past her indignation. “I am well able to handle your emotional variability and occasional irrational outburst.”
“Emotional var—feminine re—embarrassed?!” Slowly she lowered her hands to lie flat on the table and leaned toward him. “Listen here you arrogant son of a—”
He cut her off by standing abruptly. “We can continue this conversation in the car. You are drawing attention to us with the rising tone of your voice.” Before she could say another word, he turned and walked out of the fast food restaurant, leaving her staring at his back, completely furious and completely stunned. Mentally groping for a word beyond supercilious, and asshole, and bastard, and…well hell. The English language didn’t have one that she knew of that did him justice. Perhaps she’d find a new word in Ilyria.
One of the best things about all the sparks between these two? They always start such a delicious fire!
