Hi guys, we have C. Margery Kempe stopping by today with her newest release Spinning Gold, a cute retelling of a much adored fairytale. C. chats a bit about writing, there’s a great excerpt, a great giveaway and my fantabulous review… *what ‘huff’ fine* my review for you all to enjoy. So check out the post and click that Rafflecopter link <3 ~Pixie~

Spinning Gold

C. Margery Kempe 

It was bad enough that the prince had to see Freawine’s father making his wild drunken boasts. But he believed them! How long would it be before the dreamy but intimidating prince discovered Freawine couldn’t really spin straw into gold—or that this “girl” was really a boy?

The Writer’s Dull Life

I teach a course called “Writers in Motion” that looks at how writers are portrayed in film. I spend the semester arguing against the depiction of writers as drunken philanderers who, on the rare occasion they actually sit down to do it between debaucheries and delirium, simply write out the adventures of their lives in thinly-veiled roman à clef narratives.

It’s not really like that, I swear to them.

Naturally enough, they remain unconvinced. After all, Hollywood is far more seductive than their instructor (more’s the pity, eh?). They want to believe that Shakespeare in Love is how it really happened and that George Sand was as cute as Judy Davis. But the myth is persistent because we get movies about writers like Dorothy Parker and Oscar Wilde, whose lives are full of turmoil and drama. Of course, they make for a good story with a lot of engaging excitement. They seldom make the point that these people are writers in spite of all that drama.

What I eventually figured out is that it was my boring life that really prepared me to be a writer. Unlike a lot of my friends, I had a very boring childhood. I am of the last generation of kids who were just sent out to play, who were left to their own devices to invent games and activities. We were largely unsupervised, too. I often yelled over my shoulder, “Going for a bike ride,” as I pedaled off for miles and hours.

In quizzing my fellow erotic romance writers, I was not too surprised to find they all experienced pretty much the same thing. When asked whether they wrote from experience or from fantasy, most giggled and said fantasy for sure. While we all like to write about having wild international affairs with mysterious strangers in exotic locations, most of us lead rather quiet lives, often with partners and kids nearby, a cat or dog underfoot, and lots of dirty dishes in the sink.

And that’s all right; there’s a lot to like about the quiet life. Besides all we need to do to whisk ourselves away from that mundane life is to sit down at the computer and start typing those lovely, sexy lies. Best of all, other folks like to read them, too. So what if they never make a movie of my life? I’m having fun.

Excerpt

Freawine sat looking at the mounds of straw all around him in the tiny room. Panic rose to his throat like a choking hand. What to do? Only two options came to mind—he could continue to curse his braggart father as he had done for the last quarter of an hour or so, or he could begin to think what his new life might be like without his head.

Rather short, he imagined.

Freawine found it a challenge to think clearly when his life was about to come to an abrupt end. The cold gray stones around him stood impassively silent, like the guards who lounged outside the door. No one was going to rescue him. Still, he found it pleasant to picture a handsome knight charging up the road to the castle, his valiant steed’s hooves clattering across the cobblestones of the courtyard, then rushing up the stairs to this little room at the top of the tower and sweeping Freawine away to safety. Followed by a very hot and sweaty session of delightful indulgence, of course.

He twisted one of his long locks and sighed again. If he were a real girl this would never have happened. His life had been nothing but secrets and lies—now the price had come due.

If only his father had not made that stupid boast in the tavern yard! If only the prince had not been passing by with his entourage of noble ladies and gentlemen, falcons on their wrists and laughter on their lips. If only the prince had not taken it into his head to make a grand offer–and an ominous threat.

If wishes were horses, his mother would have said, then we would all ride with the nobles to the fair.

At the moment, Freawine preferred to imagine that wishes might be doves that could carry him far from this tower room and his troubles.

About C. Margery

Margery Kempeis a writer of erotic romance distinguished by its humour, intelligence and fearless sensual pleasures. Her stories range from contemporary thrillers to medieval era fairy tales. An English professor by day, she also writes on medieval literature, film, creative writing and New Media, as well as humor, drama, mainstream and genre fiction under her real name, noir as Graham Wynd and non-explicit romance as Kit Marlowe. She’s a weekly blogger at Lady Smut on Fridays.

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Review

Title: Spinning Gold

Series: Fresher Fairy Tales 02

Author: C. Margery Kempe

Genre: Fairytale, Historical Erotica

Length: Short (28pgs)

ISBN: 9781310396281  

Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing (11^th November 2014)

Heat Level: Moderate – Explicit

Heart Rating: ♥♥♥♥ 4 Hearts

Reviewer: Pixie

Blurb: It was bad enough that the prince had to see Freawine’s father making his wild drunken boasts. But he believed them! How long would it be before the dreamy but intimidating prince discovered Freawine couldn’t really spin straw into gold—or that this “girl” was really a boy?

Purchase Link: http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Kempe_CM/spinning-gold.htm

Review: Freawine has lived his life as a girl, Frea, because his mother didn’t want to lose him to the war, with his mother gone for the past couple of years Freawine has continued to live as a female even though he has had to isolate himself so no one discovers the truth. Freawine’s father is a drunken braggart and people have learned to ignore his boasts, that is until the day the prince overhears his boasting and Freawine finds himself in the position of having to spin straw into gold or lose his head. Freawine is now in a difficult position, not only can’t he spin straw into gold but he’s a boy not a girl! Just how will the prince react when the truth is revealed???

Oh this is a brilliant twist on Rumpelstiltskin which I thoroughly enjoyed. Freawine has grown up set aside from his peers, he can’t really hang out with the other girls except when they are working and he certainly can’t spend time with the boys. So Freawine has grown up pretty lonely especially after his mother died. When his father is doing his usually bragging and boasting Freawine is his usual embarrassed self but when the prince believes the boasts Freawine is terrified not only because he can’t do what his father bragged but because of the fear of discovery. Freawine hopes, after he receives a middle of the night visitor, that he will be released but the prince demands more of him and Freawine ends up making a deal he can live with.

I really liked Freawine, he is modest and fully admits to himself that he likes being treated like a girl. He also likes boys in a way he isn’t supposed to and while being terrified of the prince he admits to himself that he finds the prince attractive. The Prince, Eadwine, has his own secret that he doesn’t want people to know, we don’t learn much about him but we can see that he isn’t happy with what is expected of him, when he opens up to Freawine it soon becomes clear that they are a perfect couple.

So all in all, it’s a delightful story that you can lose yourself in for a time. There are the usually challenges for a spinning straw into gold story but there are still some delightful twists. We have a wonderful meeting of two hearts although not much romance, but it does leave a feeling of confusion over some of the prince’s actions.

I recommend this to those who love revitalized fairytales, the prince getting the maiden, the maiden finding his prince and a very lovely happy ending.