Me: Tell us about yourself
My name is April Holthaus. I live in Minnesota with my
husband and 5 month old son. I have been working in the mailing/marketing
industry for the past 12 years. I have a passion for history and genealogy which
is part of the reason I write historical romances. When I am not working,
writing or caring for my son, I love being outdoors and love everything about
nature and I totally love squirrels!
Me: Tell us about your new book?
April: My latest book is called Highland Daydreams. It is
the third and final book to my MacKinnon Clan Series. The book is about Bram
MacKinnon which makes appearances in the other two books, and a new heroine
named Lara. Here is the book blurb.
Lara did not know if it had been weeks or months she had
spent in the bowels of the dungeon, for time did not exist within the darkness.
Like the walls of her cell, Lara felt she has been a prisoner her whole life.
Forced into a loveless marriage to create a union among the two neighboring clans
her new husband, Laird Dermot Moray wants more from her than just a docile
wife, he want to claim a treasure her clan secretly possesses. After several failed attempts to claim it,
Dermot found a way to rid his burden of his defiant bride by having her locked
away forever. Lara had almost given up hope until a nameless warrior whose
strength and strong-will gave her the courage she needed.
Thought to be dead, Bram MacKinnon barely held onto life
after battling the English for Scotland’s freedom. Imprisoned with no means of
escape, he is rescued by his cellmate, a woman. For saving his life, he vows to
protect her and return her to her family, but Bram did not realize it was more
than he bargained for.
On the run from a group of men hunting them down, will Lara
be able to set things right before it’s too late and will Bram be able to keep
his promise knowing that he may lose her forever? Having to travel across both land and sea,
Lara and Bram will discover a secret about Lara’s past that’s worth its weight
in gold.
Me: When you write,
does your real life spill over into your book at any time?
April: I think because I write historical, it doesn’t as
much. I have yet to travel to England or Scotland, so I do not have any
personal experiences to contribute to my books. I am traveling there next
summer so I am hoping that I will be able to take that experience and put it
into my stories.
Me: Do you think about a book of yours, being made into a
movie, or not when writing?
April: Honestly, as a newbie writer I think I have a lot to
learn and develop before thinking that my books are movie-worthy! =)
Me: When naming your characters, do you give any thought to
the actual meaning?
April: I do. I often times look up Scottish and Old English
names, 1. Because I want to make sure that it fits the era and also because I
want it to match the character’s personality.
Me: What made you want to write and also what made you want
to write the genre you are writing?
April: I started writing as a hobby. Historical Romance is
the only genre I truly enjoy reading so it made sense to write stories of that
time. After several months of edits, rewrites and completely starting over, I
had several people read my first book to see what they thought. Several thought
I should pursue the steps to self-publish it. After several months of research,
The Honor of a Highlander was published.
Me: If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a
mentor?
April: This is an easy one! Historical Romance Author Suzan
Tisdale.
Me: Do you have any tips for our readers that might dream of
writing?
April: The best advice I had ever received was “just write”.
When writing a story, whether it is a full length novel or just a short story,
you do not have to write in order. Many times people get writers block and just
give up because they don’t know how to get the characters from A to B. In that
case, just write small scenes that you want your characters to be in. You can
always rearrange your story later and maybe once you fit the pieces together it
will be easy to fill in the holes.
The second advice I would suggest is to not make yourself a
deadline. I did in the past and when it came down to crunch time, I found that
my last few chapters felt rushed because I was in such a hurry to finish. Being
in a hurry takes the enjoyment out of writing. Having a goal is always a good
idea, but saying that you want to complete this book no later than this
specific date can add unnecessary stress. Write because you enjoy it, even if
it takes years to perfect it the way you want. Don’t be in a hurry! And
remember once your book is out, you will not make everyone happy. When you
write, you should not only write for your readers but you should write for
yourself. If you are proud of your work, don’t worry about what others think.
Be proud of your accomplishment!
Me: Tell us anything you want?
April: I want to thank my readers for taking a chance on me.
In the beginning as a new author, I didn’t even think I would get (1) 5-star
review and I surely never thought I would have people consider themselves my
“fans”. It is a great honor! I promise with each book I write I will work hard
to improve and to write you a great story. I also love chatting with readers.
So feel free to send me a message or ask me a question anytime. I also love
advice, ideas or suggestions so if you have any let me know!
Thank you very much Kim for having me!
You can find her at:
Prologue
July 22, 1298
Falkirk, Scotland
The sky darkened. Rain had fallen
for more than an hour causing the ground to become slippery and muddy beneath
Bram’s feet. Holding his sword high, he waited for Wallace’s battle cry. His
breaths became labored and each exhale more intense. The noises around him were
muffled over the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ears. Squeezing his
grip tighter to steady the hilt of his broadsword, he waited. Clutching the
strap of his shield, he pulled it firmly against his chest. Over the assembly
of men and commotion, a call echoed.
A sea of men on each side of him
barreled down the hill toward their enemy. Bram had no time to think and he
acted on instinct alone. Thrashing his sword, he cut down the first few men
charging towards him from the left and then the right. He raised his shield
when the whistling sound of falling arrows came closer and louder but he did
not slow his pace. He used his shield to push past a group of warriors to
advance further towards his enemy.
For a brief moment, Bram stood in
the middle of a clearing. Men had fought and fallen around him; both comrade
and enemy. With eyes looking wildly about at the scene before him, he searched
for his next victim. To his right, a soldier dressed in chainmail ran towards
him. Sword drawn, he yelled out all sorts of blasphemies. Lowering his weapon
with the blade directed towards Bram, the soldier readied himself to slice Bram
through.
Bram turned to fight off another
opponent, who violently swung his sword harder and harder, forcing Bram to take
short steps backwards. Bram leapt to the side, able to dodge the first blow,
but met the second with the pure force of his blade. A forceful shot to Bram’s
ribs sent ripples of pain throughout his body. He cried out in agony. Dropping
to his knees, Bram wrapped one of his arms tightly around his chest and
attempted to rise. But just as he was about to stand, the man took a sharp dirk
out of his boot and slashed it across Bram’s abdomen.
Bram could feel the heat of the blade
as it sliced through his skin down to the muscle. Blood spilled down the front
of him. Unexpectedly, a sudden dizzy spell overcame him. Bram doubled over and
fell into a small puddle. Lying on the ground, he waited for death to take him.
His eyes closed, the blackness came, and then there was nothing but silence.
Chapter 1
August, 1298
Cumberland, England
Dragging the heavy weight of the iron
chain secured to her ankle, Lara scurried across the floor of her cell. She
tucked her knees under her chin, and wrapped her arms securely around her legs,
sitting quiet and still. As her stomach growled once more, Lara pressed her
hands firmly against her stomach, wishing away her hunger. The boniness of her
ribs beneath her hands told her that if she did not die of illness, she would
certainly die of starvation.
Lara was uncertain if it had been
weeks or months she had spent within the bowels of the dungeon, for time did
not exist within the darkness. She could no longer hear the desperate cries of
her fellow cell mates, nor could she feel her own wounds or pains.
Lara hid her face within the folds
of what was left of her dress when she heard the guards making their way down
the stone stairwell. As they entered this room in the dungeon, they yelled
profanities at a prisoner they dragged with them. They threatened that if he
didn’t walk faster they would pitch him down the stairs.
She felt her body quiver with fear
when she spied Roland, the heavier of the two guards. Roland had once visited
Lara in her cell trying to satisfy his needs before he was reprimanded by
another guard and forced back out of her cell. Angered by Roland’s attempted
rape, the Earl of Cumberland had struck him so hard it created a grotesque scar
across his face that left him almost unrecognizable.
Since that wretched day, Roland
accused Lara for what had happened, swearing that he would take his revenge out
on her. He often tried to put the fear of God in her with his abhorrent
threats. At times, Lara wished he would just get it over with so he would leave
her alone.
As he entered, Roland peeked around
the bars and gave her a half smile. Lara looked away and clasped onto the hem
of her skirt a little tighter. Roland turned and instructed the other guard to
string up their prisoner by his wrists. The man stumbled forward as the guards
dragged him to a wooden pole where a thick rope dangled from a beam on the
ceiling. Wrapping the rope around his wrists, the guard tied the knot tightly.
The prisoner was hoisted up and stretched from limb to limb.
When they turned him to expose his
bare back, the side of his face became visible in the soft light of the torch
on the wall. It was him. He was the only one who never fought back or
struggled when the guards came for him. Lara was unsure where his unbreakable
strength came from, but knew that only a warrior could be so brave. The only
spark of life Lara had left within her was the empathy she felt for this
warrior who shared the cell next to hers. Lara shuddered as the crack of the
whip bit into the man’s flesh. The prisoners around her yelled in the man’s
defense, but no sound came from the captive himself. He just clenched his teeth
and endured the pain. Lara could not tell how many times they struck him for
she tried to block it out.
In a chilling and raspy voice Roland
demanded that he be cut down. Lifting her head up, Lara watched as the warrior
hung from the rafter, limp, his head hanging to one side. Sweat and blood
glistened off his body. The guard took his blade out of its sheath and sliced
the rope in two. In that instant, the warrior plummeted to the ground. The
portly guard picked him up by his arms and began to drag him back into his cell.
“Get in there!” the guard roared as
he shoved him inside the small space.
Roland held him down as the warrior
was once again chained to the wall in iron shackles.
Still curled up in the corner, Lara
looked at him through the bars, tears streaming down her face. He looked
broken, not only physically, but in spirit as well. She carefully watched the
guards as they returned to their posts. She knew that one of them would head
back up the stairs with the others while her tormentor would sit down on his chair
outside her cell, tilt it back against the bars and slam back a tankard or two
of whiskey. Their routine had become predictable the last several nights, and
Lara had taken notice.
“Hello, my beauty,” Roland whispered
to her through the cell bars, so low that no one else could hear him.
His breath smelled like rotten food
and stale ale.
“My body is aching for the sweetness
between your thighs and I promise that you will enjoy it,” he threatened.
“Perhaps ye would like a matching
scar across the other side of yer face,” she threatened.
Roland chuckled.
