Hi guys, we have Kelly Clemmons popping in with the stunning cover to their upcoming release Druids Lodge, not only are they showing off their georgous cover but they are letting us have a peek at a tasty excerpt! So check out the post and enjoy! <3 ~Pixie~ 

Druids Lodge

Kelly Clemmons

What lurks in Dartmoor?

After his father’s death, Finn Darcy returns to his ancestral home to become chief of his werecat clan. The mysterious Druids Lodge lies nestled in the shadows of Dartmoor National Park, where the legendary Beast of Dartmoor, a large panther, roams the woods and moors.

Finn cannot take his place at the head of the clan before he claims his mate, Luke Devlin, the man he marked while still a child. Feeling he was deceived at the start of their relationship, Luke refuses to accept his fate. He bides his time, determined to escape when the opportunity presents itself before Finn’s jealous and possessive dual nature destroys everything they have left.

But then werecats and their mates start disappearing, and Finn is adamant his mate must be protected at all costs. Events take a grim turn when Finn is abducted and forced to fight for his life. Luke must choose between his chance at freedom or saving Finn.

Introduction and reveal: 

Hi. We’re Kelly Clemmons and we are delighted to reveal the cover of our book Druids Lodge. We selected Anne Cain from an amazing array of cover artists. We love what she created from the ideas we presented. We were speechless at the results, each hoping the other loved it just as much. As you can see, Anne Cain has captured the haunting beauty of Dartmoor and the mysterious beast. 

Excerpt

Luke Devlin peered out the window and over the grounds of Druids Lodge. For the moment, the rain had stopped. The overcast and gloomy morning matched his mood. He checked his watch. He had another hour before he said his final good-bye. 

After years away, Henry’s son, Finn, had returned home to bury his father. Luke turned from the window and gazed around the familiar room. Henry’s room. He’d spent his share of time there. He crossed to the antique oak four-poster and sat, tracing the pattern on the blue paisley duvet. Luke clasped his hand around the worn wooden post and pulled himself up. As he wandered the room, he stopped to pick up the ornate silver-framed picture of Henry and burn the smiling, vibrant image into his memory.

Luke turned to catch his reflection in the full-length gilt-framed mirror. He’d taken his time this morning, wanting to look his best and make Henry proud. His black tailored suit fit perfectly. His green eyes were no longer red-rimmed and puffy. Luke rubbed his hand over his chest; a dull ache emanated from the old scars. He shook his head, then draped his black trench coat over his arm and gave the room one last glance before he left. He took the back stairs to avoid the staff, then slipped outside to his car.

After the short drive, Luke sat in his Land Rover and composed himself. He’d need all his strength to make it through the day. The old stone church stood against the backdrop of the gray cloud-filled sky, its tower reaching for the heavens. Luke emerged from the car, the smell of rain still heavy in the air caused him to shiver as he walked to the south door and entered the building.

The huge arched windows let in very little light in the gloomy interior. Luke’s footsteps echoed off the stone floor as he approached the open casket. Henry looked peaceful. His unruly silver hair was, for once, parted and combed back. Luke leaned down and pressed a kiss to Henry’s cold, motionless cheek. He straightened, then self-consciously made his way to his seat and busied himself with the program that chronicled Henry’s life.

A low murmur spread through the crowd. Luke glanced up, only to see Finn Darcy ushered to the front row pew. Finn had filled out. The black suit emphasized the well-muscled body. His hair fell forward over his brow, and the goatee and stubble added to Finn’s dark good looks. Without a greeting, Finn took his seat. Luke winced. A sharp pain flared in his head. Not now. He dreaded a full-blown attack. Thankfully it faded quickly.

Throughout the service Finn sat stiff and unemotional. Not once did Luke hear a sniff or see him wipe away a tear. Cold-hearted bastard. How many times had he overheard Henry beg his son to come home, only to be ignored?

Once the service concluded, Luke waited as the others filed out. He wanted to linger, but thought better of it. On the church steps, he clasped Father Murray’s hand and thanked him before he returned to his vehicle.

From the Land Rover, he watched the undertaker’s assistants load Henry’s casket into the hearse. Luke started the engine, then followed the procession back to the lodge and parked in line along the dirt road that led to the family plot. He made his way across the wet ground and stopped at his father’s headstone as the pallbearers carried the casket to the newly dug plot.

Henry’s friends, associates, and employees gathered around. Luke pulled the collar of his trench coat up to his ears, then slipped quietly behind the others, as far from Finn as possible. The rain started up once again. In the distance mist blanketed the ground. The wind swirled, rustling the branches of the trees. Father Murray raised his voice to compete with the forces of nature. At the funeral’s conclusion, his “amen” boomed in the sudden silence. Luke watched enviously as the mourners gave Finn Darcy their condolences, cringing at the sight. The man couldn’t be bothered to visit his father while he was alive. No one acknowledged Luke’s grief.

Without a word he strode across the cemetery to his vehicle and slid inside. He wiped the rain from his face, then rested his head to the steering wheel and cried.

A loud rumble of thunder startled him. He pulled the engraved silver flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and tipped the vessel back. The whiskey burned away the chill, but the alcohol couldn’t chase the empty feeling inside. Painfully aware Finn watched him through the windshield, he shivered and replaced the cap, then wiped roughly at his mouth.

About Kelly

Kelly Clemmons is the pen name of Lorraine Kelly and C.L. Clemmons. They met in an online fan chatroom and discovered they shared a mutual love for all things books. Thanks to messenger and Skype they conspire almost daily. The seven hour time difference has led to many late night and pre-dawn writing sessions. Writing has been their therapy through the ups and downs life has thrown at them. Their stories reflect very human struggles with the promise of better days ahead. 

Lorraine was born and raised in Wiltshire, England surround by beautiful countryside and ancient history. She has a love of books and her only criteria when choosing a book is there must be a satisfactory ending, and she has been known to read the last few pages to make sure.

C.L. was born and raised in Colorado. She served a tour in the Army and has lived in Tennessee and Germany before returning to her hometown. She currently lives in a small historic downtown apartment overlooking the city library with her cat, Ghost. 

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