Aloha to Eve Pendle and SIX WEEKS WITH A LORD - Blog Tour with Giveaway

Grace Alnott is out of time. To save her younger brother from an abusive guardian, her merchant father’s will demands she must marry a peer. Handsome but destitute Everett Hetherington, Earl of Westbury agrees to her offer of a marriage of convenience but stipulates she must live with him for six weeks. No matter how honorable he seems she can’t allow him to get too close, because the aristocracy cannot be trusted.

Six weeks. Major Everett Hetherington, new Earl of Westbury, has exactly six weeks to convince the very independent Grace Alnott to spend the rest of her life with him. Despite her belief she doesn't belong in his world, he must tempt the alluring Grace into staying, because he has fallen for her. Hard. He just has to ensure she never discovers his secret. 

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Eve lives in England and writes angsty, snarky and passionate Victorian era romance. She has National Trust membership, a big-boned cat, and a crazy dog. She loves wearing dresses and eating chocolate.

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What's not to love about cats, chocolate, and the National Trust?!?!  

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Aloha to Darcy Burke and THE DUKE OF DANGER (The Untouchables Book 6) - Giveaway and Excerpt

After killing his opponent in a duel, Lionel Maitland, Marquess of Axbridge, is known as the Duke of Danger. Tortured by guilt, he shields himself with a devil-may-care attitude. However, when he kills another man in another duel, he’s beyond redemption, even though it wasn’t his fault. He refuses to smear a dead man’s name, especially when he’s left behind a blameless widow who doesn’t deserve an even bigger scandal.

Widowed and destitute, Lady Emmaline Townsend must marry the man of her parents’ choosing or beg unsympathetic relatives for support. The only way out is to ask for help from the one man she’s sworn to hate, the man who owes her anything she asks, the man who killed her husband. They strike a devil’s bargain in which passion simmers just beneath the surface. But her dead husband’s transgressions come back to haunt them and threaten their chance at love.

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Darcy Burke is the USA Today Bestselling Author of hot, action-packed historical and sexy, emotional contemporary romance. A native Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming husband, their two hilarious kids who seem to have inherited the writing gene, and three Bengal cats. Visit Darcy online at darcyburke.com and sign up for her newsletter, follow her on Twitter at twitter.com/darcyburke, or like her Facebook page, facebook.com/DarcyBurkeFans.

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Darcy offers an excerpt from THE DUKE OF DANGER ...

He still looked disheveled, but seductively so. His hair was mussed, as if he’d run his hand through it. His cravat was loose, hanging from his neck and leaving his shirt gaping open. He’d stripped his coat away upon entering the room. His state of undress would mean nothing in the context of a real marriage. But this wasn’t a real marriage.

She sipped the whiskey, taking a smaller amount than the first time. The fiery liquid had burned her throat, but she hadn’t flinched. Not in front of him.

Yes, suddenly he looked a bit dangerous. She angled toward the door. “I should go.”

“Don’t.” His eyes were dark and tormented. Barely controlled emotion radiated from him in ominous waves. “Who was the man you met at the park today?”

His appearance and his mood put her on edge, but that question pushed her over it. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Wives answer to their husbands.”

She glowered at him. “Except we don’t do that. Otherwise you would tell me why you challenged my husband.”

He seemed to grow a bit taller. “I am your husband.”

“In name only.”

He smirked, but the storms in his eyes raged. “How could I forget? Especially now that everyone is talking about it.”

She clutched the glass in her hand, hating that their marriage was a continual source of gossip, while also realizing it was unavoidable. She’d done the inconceivable by marrying her husband’s murderer. “Everyone?”

“Sir Duncan approached me at the club tonight. He knew our marriage was fake and wondered why you’d choose me over a perfectly fine offer from him. He concluded that I had to have pressed you into the union with less than savory methods.”

She began to see why he was so upset. “But you didn’t.”

“I know that, of course; however, I can’t tell anyone the truth now, can I? Or maybe I can. If it’s common knowledge our marriage isn’t real, why bother with the pretense? So I suppose it doesn’t matter if you’re meeting men in the park or shagging them, even.”

She sucked in a breath, and her hands began to shake. She reached past him and set her glass on the desk, then resumed her position in front of him. “You dare to question me about an innocent meeting with Geoffrey’s tailor—which you knew about—when everyone thinks you’re carrying on with Lady Richland?”

He leaned back against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a look of superiority. “I’ve said I’m not, but what if we were? Would you really care? You’ve made it clear this marriage will be devoid of sex. You can’t really expect me to spend my entire life celibate.”

Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she repeated Aquilla’s declaration from that afternoon. “You could at least be discreet!”

“I am not having an affair with Marianne or with anyone else.” His lip curled. “But clearly, I should.”

“Perhaps I should as well. An entire life of celibacy does sound rather bleak, particularly after I enjoyed sharing my husband’s bed so much.”

His nostrils flared, and he dropped his arms to his sides. “Then by all means, take a lover.” He pushed away from the desk and prowled toward her until they were barely a few inches apart. “I’ll even make it easy for you—if you’re interested. I’m here, and I’m ready and willing. I’m also your lawfully wedded husband, and dare I say, convenient.”

He was so close, she could feel his heat and inhale his scent. He smelled of pine and sandalwood, and she suddenly realized just how long it had been since Geoffrey had touched her.

“Are you asking me to change the rules?” She stared up at him, her body shifting from anger to something far more dangerous. She couldn’t deny what he said—he was convenient. And she wanted…something.

No, she wanted him.

More books in the series ... 

Aloha to Vivienne Lorret and THIS EARL IS ON FIRE (Season's Original Book 2)

The sheltered daughter of a country baron, Miss Adeline Pimm comes to London looking for adventure… and finds it in the form of a bloody, unconscious man slumped in the doorway of her family's rented townhouse. Though his identity is a mystery, Adeline is inexplicably drawn to the handsome, injured man and vows to nurse him back to health.

Liam Cavanaugh, the scandalous Earl of Wolford, is startled when he awakens in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in bandages that hinder his eyesight, with no memory of why he was beaten half to death. Although he can't see the witty young woman who tends to his wounds, her alluring voice--and a single stolen kiss from her soft lips--help soothe his pain. But when he is fully healed, Liam is not ready to let go of the one woman who stirs his deepest longings.

Liam will do whatever it takes to see Adeline again, even if it means giving up his rakish ways. But his disreputable past is not so easily forgotten and his secrets are far more dangerous than he-or Adeline-ever imagined.

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USA Today bestselling author, VIVIENNE LORRET loves romance novels, her pink laptop, her husband, and her two sons (not necessarily in that order … but there are days). Transforming copious amounts of tea into words, she is an Avon Impulse author of works including: Tempting Mr. Weatherstone, The Wallflower Wedding Series, The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series, The Duke’s Christmas Wish, and the Season’s Original Series.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Avon Impulse offers an excerpt from THIS EARL IS ON FIRE ...

Liam Cavanaugh grinned at the corrugated lines marking his cousin’s lifted brows. It wasn’t often that Northcliff Bromley, the Duke of Vale and renowned genius, showed astonishment.

Bending his dark head, Vale peered closer at the marble heads within the crates. “Remarkable. Even seeing them side by side, I hardly notice a difference. The fellows will be fascinated when you present this to the Royal Society at month’s end.”

“It was pure luck that I had the original as well.” Liam shrugged as if he’d merely stumbled upon the differences between a genuine article and an imposter.

Vale turned, and his obsidian eyes sharpened on Liam. “No need to play the simpleton with me. You forget that I know your secret.”

Liam cast a hasty glance around the sconce-lit, cluttered ballroom of Wolford House, ensuring they were alone. Fortunately, the vast space was empty aside from the two of them and a dozen or more large crates filled with artifacts. “By definition, a secret is that of which we do not speak. So lower your voice, if you please.”

No one needed to know that he actually studied each piece of his collection in detail—enough that he’d learned how to spot a forgery in an instant.

“Afraid the servants will tell the ton your collection isn’t merely a frivolous venture? Or that your housekeeper’s complaints of dusty urns and statues crowding each room would suddenly fall silent?” Vale flashed a smile that bracketed his mouth with deep creases.

Liam pretended to consider his answer, pursing his lips. “It would be cruel of me to render Mrs. Brasher mute when she finds such enjoyment in haranguing me.”

“She may have a point,” Vale said, skirting in between two crates when a wayward nail snagged his coat, issuing a sharp rip of rending fabric. He stopped to examine the hole and shook his head. “Your collection has grown by leaps and bounds in the past few months. So much so that you were forced to purchase another property to house it all.”

“The curse of immense wealth and boredom, I’m afraid.”

His cousin’s quick glower revealed that he was not amused by Liam’s insouciant guise. Then, as if to punish him for it, he issued the foulest epithet known to man. “You should marry.”

Not wanting to reveal the discomfort slowly clawing up his spine, Liam chuckled. “As a cure for boredom?”

Vale said nothing. He merely crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

It was a standoff now. They were nearly equal in regard to observation skills, but apparently Vale thought he had the upper hand.

Liam knew differently. He crossed his arms as well and smirked.

If anyone were to peer into the room at this moment, they might wonder if they were staring at matching wax figures. The two of them looked enough alike in build and coloring to be brothers, but with subtle differences. Vale’s features were blunter, while Liam’s were angular. And Vale’s dark eyes were full of intellect, while Liam’s green eyes tended to reveal the streak of mischief within.

“Marriage would do you good,” Vale said.

Liam disagreed. “You’re starting to sound like Thayne, always hinting of ways to improve my social standing.”

The Marquess of Thayne was determined to reform Liam into the ton’s favorite pet—the Season’s Original. In fact, Thayne had been so confident in success that he’d wagered on the outcome. What a fool.

“I never hint,” Vale said.

Liam offered his cousin a nod. “True. You are a forthright, scientific gentleman, and I appreciate that about you. Therefore, I will give you the courtesy of answering in kind: No. I should not marry. I like my life just as it is.” He lifted his hands in a gesture to encompass his collection within this room. “Besides, I could never respect a woman who would have me.”

Vale scoffed. “Respect?”

“Very well. I could never trust a woman who desired to marry me. Not with my reputation. Such a woman would either be mad or conniving, and I want neither for a wife.”

He’d nearly succumbed once, falling for the worst of all deceptions. After that narrow escape, he’d vowed never to be tricked again.

“Come now. There are many who care nothing for your reputation.”

That statement only served to cement his belief. If his despoiled reputation were the only thing keeping him far afield of the ton’s conniving matchmakers, then he would make the most of it. And the perfect place to add the crème de la crème to his list of scandalous exploits would be at Lady Forester’s masquerade tonight.

After all, he had a carefully crafted reputation of unrepentant debauchery to uphold.

Liam squared his shoulders and walked with his cousin to the door. “If the Fates have it in mind to see me married before I turn sixty, then they will have to knock me over the head and drag me to the altar.”

Book 1 

Aloha to Megan Frampton and WHY DO DUKES FALL IN LOVE?

Why do dukes fall in love?

Michael, the Duke of Hadlow, has the liberty of enjoying an indiscretion . . . or several. But when it comes time for him to take a proper bride, he ultimately realizes he wants only one woman: Edwina Cheltam. He’d hired her as his secretary, only to quickly discover she was sensuous and intelligent.

They embark on a passionate affair, and when she breaks it off, he accepts her decision as the logical one . . . but only at first. Then he decides to pursue her.

Michael is brilliant, single-minded, and utterly indifferent to being the talk of the ton. It’s even said his only true friend is his dog. Edwina had begged him to marry someone appropriate–—someone aristocratic . . . someone high-born . . . someone else. But the only thing more persuasive than a duke intent on seduction is one who has fallen irrevocably in love.

Where to buy WHY DO DUKES FALL IN LOVE?

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About MEGAN FRAMPTON

Megan Frampton writes historical romance under her own name and romantic women’s fiction as Megan Caldwell. She likes the color black, gin, dark-haired British men, and huge earrings, not in that order. She lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and son. You can visit her website at meganframpton.com. She tweets as @meganf, and is at facebook.com/meganframptonbooks.


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Megan offers an excerpt from WHY DO DUKES FALL IN LOVE?

Chapter 1
1844
The Quality Employment Agency, London

“He left you with nothing?”

Edwina glanced to the side of the room, a tactic she knew full well wouldn’t disguise the moisture in her eyes, especially not from Carolyn, her oldest and dearest friend. They’d met when Edwina’s late husband had wanted to find a respectable, but inexpensive, maidservant, and Carolyn’s agency had found the perfect person. And Edwina had finally found a friend she could actually talk to.

The room was as familiar to her as her own lodgings—and definitely more welcoming. A kettle was heating up water on the small stove, the tea things—the chipped blue cup for Carolyn, the cup with the handle that was always too hot for her—waiting until the water boiled.

Cozy, comfortable, and everything else she was not.

“No.” She spoke plainly, unable and unwilling to disguise the truth of it.

Eight years of marriage to one of the most boring men of her acquaintance, and he didn’t even have the decency to leave her financially comfortable when he died.

“I can help you, you know,” Carolyn said in a soft voice. She got up as the kettle began to whistle and started preparing the tea.

Edwina’s throat tightened. “I won’t take your money.” Fine words for a pauper—they both knew that if the choice came between accepting charity and letting her daughter starve, Edwina would take the money. Gertrude sat on the floor, playing with her dolls. Was she already getting thinner? Edwina’s heart hurt at the thought, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek not to start fretting aloud. That would do nothing but worry her daughter, who wasn’t old enough to understand.

Edwina wasn’t entirely certain she was old enough to understand, either.

“I wasn’t offering to give you any money,” Carolyn replied in a dry tone of voice, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke.

Edwina’s gaze met Carolyn’s.

“Well, what then?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

“Employment,” Carolyn replied, returning to her task.

“Employment?” Edwina echoed, an uneasy feeling settling somewhere in her gut. The gut that was remarkably close to her stomach, which hadn’t eaten today, and had only had some porridge and some hard cheese yesterday.

So the uneasy feeling would have to ease.

“You do know I run an employment agency.” Carolyn gestured to the room they sat in. “Since you have used my services.”

“Yes, back when I could afford them,” Edwina replied in a tone that was both wry and pained.

She took a deep breath, and looked around her. It was undeniably pleasant, if modest. The cozy, comfortable room of the Quality Employment Agency, filled with books, papers, mismatched chairs, and an enormous battered desk, where Carolyn normally sat, welcomed her, made her feel safe in a way her new lodgings did not.

“Yes, but—” and then Edwina felt both foolish and snobby, since the answer was obvious, and yet had not occurred to her because of who she was. Who she had been.

“But what?” Carolyn picked up the teacups, wincing as she felt the heat from the offending handle. She brought them over to where Edwina was seated, placing them on the desk and sitting back down in her usual spot. “You need a job, Edwina. No matter who you are. Even ladies—especially ladies, judging from my experience—need to have enough money to eat and to live. Even if their husbands were so disappointing as to leave them bereft of anything but their good name.”

“And even that was sullied, thanks to George’s entrusting of the accounts to his brother as soon as it seemed the businesses were getting profitable, and worthy of notice,” Edwina remarked in a bitter tone. She kept her tone low, so her daughter couldn’t hear. “I told him I could handle them, that I had gotten them to the state they were in, not to mention I told him how untrustworthy his brother was—and yet he said he’d never ‘let a female deal with important things,’ ” she said in an imitation of her late husband.

“More fool he,” Carolyn remarked. “If he had allowed you to continue to oversee the finances you wouldn’t be in this situation now, would you?”

It was a well-worn discussion, but one that still made Edwina angry. George had been so blind to her attributes he hadn’t seen she was skilled at maths, far better than anyone in his own family, especially his debt-beleaguered younger brother. He had been fine when she oversaw the accounts when they weren’t important—but ironically, as soon as her skill had yielded results, he took them away from her and handed them to a man. Simply because he was a man, and his brother, and not a woman, and his wife.

And now she and little Gertrude were being made to suffer for it. George’s brother hadn’t done more than shrug when Edwina had told him how George had left her. He already had a wife, he said, and he couldn’t afford to take her in, although he had offered a place to his niece.

But Edwina couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from her daughter; she was the only thing keeping Edwina from stepping in front of an oxcart one day. That she and Gertrude might starve to death was not something she wanted to contemplate—what reasonable person would?—even though she had to.

Which brought her back to why she was currently sitting with her closest friend in said closest friend’s employment agency, realizing that perhaps she had to consider employment herself.

“What can I do?” she said at last, hating how pathetic and needy she sounded. Better pathetic and needy than dead, a voice said inside her head.

Carolyn chuckled, taking a sip of her tea. “What can’t you do? You can balance accounts, drive hard bargains with tradesmen, oversee skittish maids, sort out the temperamental discord among upper-class servants, and keep an older husband relatively comfortable in illness. Not to mention you are extremely well-read—there are benefits to having a neglectful husband—and your parents ensured you had all the education you’d need to be an adept wife, whether you married a politician, a solicitor, or even a lord.”

“Or a businessman with lofty pretensions,” Edwina added. “They thought they had taken care of me. I wish they were still here.” She shook her head. “I do not wish to be married again, if that is the employment you are suggesting.” Once was enough, and she would have said never would have been enough if it weren’t for Gertrude. And it is not as though she had any other family to resort to; her parents had both been only children, and she had no relatives that she knew of.

“I am not in a husband acquisition business, Edwina,” Carolyn replied in a mocking tone. “If

I were, don’t you think I could afford a better office?”

They both glanced around at the tidy but shabby room. “Excellent point,” Edwina replied with a grin, picking up the cup with the still-hot handle and taking a welcome sip of tea. “So what do you have in mind?”

Aloha to Kristen McLean and TO WIN A SCOUNDREL'S HEART (The Lords of Whitehall, Book 2)

 

Reminder - I have a special giveaway for July at this link.

When her husband’s death is ruled a suicide, Lady Dumonte suspects foul play. However, finding the truth seems impossible after every investigator in Paris turns up empty-handed. Now she is forced to seek help from Lord Pembridge, a feckless libertine.

Although the pain of loss is a constant reminder of why she must hide her heart, this carefree scoundrel threatens to break past her defenses. He could uncover the truth regarding her husband’s death, but is learning the truth worth risking her heart?

Lord Pembridge has wealth, angelic good looks, and a sunny disposition. None would guess the dark secret blackening his past or the grudge controlling his future. It was the reason he could never have a family of his own, a fate he had accepted until he was forced to play detective for the one woman who could tempt him.

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Kristen has always had a love of novels, with a special place in her heart for historical romance. After reading enough of them to fill a rather impressive library, she decided to write her own. Now she has the pleasure of writing at home, tucked away in a forest with her husband, two children and her cat. Her husband is loving and impressively patient, her two beautiful children strive to embarrass and exhaust her, and her cat hates everyone, but tolerates—well, she tolerates whoever will feed her.

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Kristen offers an excerpt from TO WIN A SCOUNDREL'S HEART ...

“You, m’dear girl,” he murmured, “are old enough to know better than to tempt a scoundrel.”

“I know what I am doing,” she spouted back indignantly. “I am not a child.”

“No,” he agreed easily. “You are certainly not a child.”

“Then I would expect you not to treat me like one.” Her eyes flashed, giving him a teasing glimpse of passion.

Lady Dumonte possessed passion?

Another surprise.

“Of course not.” He frowned in mock seriousness. “How should I treat you? As a lady or a mistress?”

“As a woman,” she ground out. “I am a woman!” Her lips pursed together as she glared up at him.

He smiled broadly; he couldn’t help himself.

“Ah, yes,” he agreed, looking her over as though he had only just noticed. “I believe you are.”

She took in a deep breath, pushing her breasts against the tight fabric of her bodice.

His cock jumped to attention.

“I was wrong about not liking you. I hate you!”

“And yet,” he mused with a knit brow, “you throw yourself at me like all the others. You are either in denial of your overwhelming attraction to me or a glutton for punishment. For my own complacency, I choose the former.”

Céleste shook her head slowly, her eyes narrowed and seething with anger.

“Regardless,” he continued frankly at his own peril, “you had better run along, or you may find your offer accepted, and we both know you never expected that. Your bluff has been called, Lady Dumonte. Go on home like a good girl.”

“I never bluff.”

“Never say never, m’dear,” he murmured with a purposefully wicked smile.

Aloha to Amanda Forester and IF THE EARL ONLY KNEW (The Daring Marriages Book 1)

Reminder: I have a special giveaway to celebrate June at this link.

The chase is on in award-winning author Amanda Forester’s brand-new Regency romance series!

A sizzling scandal just waiting to happen…

Orphaned at a young age, Lady Katherine Ashton and her brother have spent most of their lives on the high seas, seeking to restore their family fortune through somewhat dubious means. After that kind of adventure, Kate knows she won’t ever be accepted as a proper society lady.

To the annoyingly clever, temptingly handsome, and altogether troublesome Earl of Wynbrook, society ladies are a dead bore. Kate, on the other hand, is scandalous, alluring, and altogether fascinating. And Kate can’t decide which she relishes more, the thrill of chasing fearsome pirates, or having Wynbrook chase after her…

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Amanda Forester holds a PhD in psychology and worked many years in academia before discovering that writing historical romance was way more fun. A Publishers Weekly Top Ten author, her books have been given starred reviews from Booklist, Publishers Weekly, and a Top Pick from RT Book Reviews. Whether in the rugged Highlands of medieval Scotland or the decadent ballrooms of Regency England, her novels offer fast-paced adventures filled with wit, intrigue, and romance. You can visit her at amandaforester.com.

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Sourcebooks offers an excerpt from IF THE EARL ONLY KNEW ...

“Are you ready for this?” asked her brother, pulling on his worn wool greatcoat.

“Quite.” Lady Kate chose to misinterpret his meaning. “I have prepared an accounting for each one of our investors, providing details of their original investment and return.”

Robert Ashton, Earl of Darington, took the large ledgers from her hands. “Not what I meant.”

“I shall never be ready. But let us do it anyway,” she said crisply. She had developed a keen accounting for each one of their investors, but such a meeting brought the prospect of seeing one particular investor. A man she never wanted to see again.

Ever.

Would he be there? Would he dare come?

Lady Katherine has no beauty, no fashion, no conversation, and no accomplishments save being the sister to an earl, and an impoverished one at that. Years later, his voice still rang in her head.

It had begun innocently enough. While at university, Robert had become acquainted with Tristan Arlington, the second son of the Earl of Wynbrook, who had invited them to spend the Christmas holidays with his family. Tristan’s mother had been particularly kind, and for a brief moment Kate had thought she had finally been accepted. But it was not to last.

Kate closed her eyes and remembered her fateful visit. She had heard voices coming from the open library door and stopped. She knew she ought not to eavesdrop, but she could not help pausing outside the door and listening to the conversation between Tristan and his elder brother.

“Darington might not be so bad—one can forgive lack of conversation in a gentleman—but you must admit the sister is poor company indeed,” drawled Tristan’s elder brother.

“Dash it, John! What a gudgeon you are,” exclaimed Tristan. “Kate’s not had the advantages of feminine company is all. Their mother died bringing them into the world.”

“Perhaps, but is that any reason for Mother to sponsor her coming out with Jane this spring?”

“Why should Mother not bring out Kate with our sister?” cried Tristan. “Quite kind of her.”

“Because it may prove an embarrassment to Mother. I do not mean to offend, but your friend’s earldom was only recently created. Darington’s father must have done something quite heroic in his naval career to rise from a baronet to an earl. You know how society disdains social climbers.”

Social climbers!

Six years later, the words still ground like grit in her teeth. How she had hated him!

They came to a stop with a jolt and Kate opened her eyes to the intimidating sight of rising colonnades of the Bank of London. Her pulse pounded in her temples as they were led to a sitting room designed for meetings of the rich and the even richer. Dark mahogany paneling lined the hall, and all the furnishings from the curtains to the chairs were resplendent in rich jewel tones. Everything around her spoke of wealth and power.

Surely he would not be here. He would send his solicitor, not come in person. There was no need. She had almost convinced herself of his certain absence when they entered the room.

He was there.

The bastion of society stood warming himself by the fire, dressed impeccably in a dark blue, double-breasted suit that was tailored to perfection. She could not help but drink in his form. His broad, square shoulders revealed a powerful build, yet he had a trim waist and muscular thighs that were on the edge of indecent in his skintight buckskin breeches. With his chestnut hair, green eyes, and square jaw he was the very definition of a handsome man.

It was him.

John Arlington, the Earl of Wynbrook.

Arlington Court in Devon, England

Image by Derek Harper (link)

Aloha to Lily Blackwood and THE BEAST OF CLAN KINCAID

Reminder: I have a special giveaway for Military Appreciation Month at this link.

Lily Blackwood is kicking off a new series, Clan Kincaid, with THE BEAST OF CLAN KINCAID on Tuesday, May 31, from St. Martin's Press:

A Highland warrior battles to reclaim his birthright in the first of a new series filled with seduction, revenge, and soul-stirring passion…

They call him the Beast—a hardened mercenary whose heart seems as cold as his icy blue gaze. They do not know his true name: Niall Braewick, son of the Laird of Kincaid. It has been years since he escaped into the forest the night his father was murdered. Now he has returned, ablaze with a vengeful hunger. He will gain the MacClaren chief’s trust, gather his clan, and take back his lands. And take the MacClaren’s daughter as well…

Though he pulled her from the river, saving her life, Elspeth has been warned to keep her distance from her father’s hired warrior. He is a barbarian—a shame, as he is far more compelling than the lechers and fools competing for her dowry. Little does she know that, like the castle itself, she is a prize Niall intends to claim…but will he extract blood for blood and possess what is his, or will his enemy’s beautiful, innocent daughter tempt him to forsake his dream of conquest?

Lily Blackwood lives in Texas with her family and mini-menagerie of two cats and a dog. When she isn’t writing, she loves reading, cooking, travel, sleeping and not cleaning her house!

Lily is also an Army brat.  She shared with me her memories of spending Memorial Day at the Corozal American Cemetery in Panama and the National Cemetery of the Pacific in Honolulu.

Thank you, Lily, for your family's service!

Learn more about Lily and her books at lilyblackwood.com.

Corozal American Cemetery

abmc.gov

Lily is giving away a copy of THE BEAST OF CLAN KINCAID to one randomly selected commenter. To enter the giveaway,

1. Can you share a memory of Memorial Day?  Three years ago, my teens and I flew from Honolulu to Seoul to visit my husband working in Korea. Check out pictures from Korea and China on my travel blog, Aloha On My Mind, at this link (use the archive to scroll through posts in May, June, and July).

2. Comments are open through Saturday, June 4, 10 pm in Baltimore.

3. I'll post the winner on Sunday, June 5.

Mahalo,

Kim in Baltimore

Aloha Spirit in Charm City

Coming in December 2016

Aloha to KC Bateman and TO STEAL A HEART

Reminder: I have a special giveaway for Military Appreciation Month at this link.

Historical romance author KC Bateman joins us for a cozy chat.  From her website bio,

Kate Bateman (writing as K. C. Bateman) wrote her first historical romance in response to a $1 bet with her husband who rashly claimed she'd 'never finish the thing.' She gleefully proved him wrong with a historical set in the Italian Renaissance. Now writing for Random House Loveswept, her latest 'Covert Affairs' trilogy features her trademark feisty, intelligent heroines, wickedly inappropriate banter, and heroes you want to alternately strangle and kiss--all mixed up in the intrigue and turmoil of the Napoleonic wars.

When not traveling to exotic locations 'for research,' Kate leads a double life as a fine art appraiser and on-screen antiques expert for several TV shows in the UK, each of which has up to 2.5 million viewers. She splits her time between Illinois and her native England and writes despite three inexhaustible children and a husband who has flatly refused to read any of her books 'unless she hits the NY Times Bestseller list.' It is - naturally - her fervent desire to force the semi-illiterate, number-loving cynic to do so. He still owes her that dollar.

Kate loves to hear from readers and writers alike. Contact her on Twitter @katebateman, Facebook, and even via her website at kcbateman.com.

Kim:  We are arm travelers at SOS Aloha. What is your favorite sight, smell and sound of your native England?

KC: I love the smell of early summertime in England - it's something thing I really miss, living in the US Midwest right now. I want that dry, just-cut grass smell, the sweetness of honeysuckle and old English roses, the sight of the queen Anne's lace / cow parsley bobbing in the hedges at the side of the country roads on the rare English summer day it gets above 70 degrees! Favorite sound? Probably the sound of a teaspoon stirring a nice cup of tea, with a Mr Kipling's cake waiting next to it! Or the tick and clink of ice in a cool Pimm's and lemonade or gin and tonic! Heaven!

Kim: What have you learned from your broadcast career that you have applied to your writing career?

KC: Definitely just be yourself. People often comment when they meet me 'in person' that "you're just like you are on the telly," but that's because I try to be as natural as possible whenever I'm filming for the various antiques shows I do. I don't try to be something I'm not - I really am just a geeky history nerd who loves beautiful things and the stories behind them! In the same way, I've learned to be myself when writing. Don't try to write the books you think other people want to read. Write the books YOU want to read. In the same way, don't try to copy someone else's writing style, just write however comes naturally to you. Obviously there are plenty of ways you can improve your writing from a technical sense, but the voice should definitely be authentic and yours. You're never going to keep everyone happy, you'll always have detractors, but if I can say that what I've done has given someone a modicum of viewing enjoyment or reading pleasure, (and maybe even educated them a little bit in the process!) then it's a job well done.

Kim: Do you have any advice for shopping for antiques?

KC: Absolutely. Don't buy something because you think it's going to be an investment. Buy it because you like it! That's the beauty of antiques - they're the ultimate recycling. If you fall out of love with something, you can always just resell it and buy something else, and it will still be cheaper and more interesting than having bought some boring, generic flat-pack MDF horror!

Kim: Tell us about TO STEAL A HEART - what inspired the series?

KC: To Steal A Heart is a Napoleonic / Regency romance heist! When Marianne Bonnard—the best tightrope-walking thief in Paris—is propositioned by cynical spymaster Nicolas Valette for a mission, her first instinct is to refuse. The job he proposes is dangerous; rescue an important prisoner from the most fortified prison in France, but the sparks that fly between them are even more disturbing. Of course, Nic's not the kind of man to take no for an answer, and soon the two are forced to work together. Both of them are seeking revenge, not love, but as they're drawn into a world of intrigue and danger, will they find what they've been looking for, or discover something even more satisfying?

I’ve always loved antiques and history, hence my ‘other’ job as an auctioneer and appraiser. Every item that comes into my saleroom has a story behind it – a provenance, as we call it in the antiques trade. So it was a natural progression to begin writing my own fiction filled with the historical detail and unusual locations I love.

In the case of To Steal A Heart I drew inspiration from two tiny portrait miniatures that came in for valuation at my auction house - one of a Napoleonic–era British gentleman, and the other of a beautiful young woman. They were painted by the same artist, and in identical frames, but the seller had no idea who they were, - distant relations, perhaps? I thought that was a shame - so I made up my own story for them. Perhaps the man’s name was Nicolas Valette. And the smiling woman was called Marianne. And I bet they had some amazing adventures!

There are also several real-life people mentioned in the book, for example the inspiration for the escape from prison is based on the actual life of M. Latude (link) who wrote an account of his amazing escapes.

There’s also the story of the ‘lost prince’ Louis Charles de Bourbon. In all probability he died as a child in prison in Paris, (most of the documentary evidence points to this sad end) but some still argue that he could have escaped. I’ve taken a little artistic license and played the ‘what if’ game – and imagined him surviving into adulthood as a prisoner and getting his happy ending!

Kim: What's next for KC Bateman?

KC: More books, hopefully! Book II in the Secrets & Spies trilogy, A Raven's Heart, is the story of Nic's codebreaker sister Heloise, and aristocratic smuggler William Ravenwood. We glimpsed them sparking off one another briefly in To Steal A Heart, and their adventure continues as they try to rescue Raven's colleague and keep Heloise safe across the Spanish peninsular in 1816.

A Raven's Heart will be out in September this year, although it's available for preorder now. Book III, A Counterfeit Heart, will be out in January next year (2017). That's about Sabine de la Tour, an irrepressible French counterfeiter who clashes with Nic's elder brother, Richard Hampden. I'm so excited about both of these stories, and I hope readers will enjoy them just as much as To Steal A Heart!

Mahalo, KC, for sharing your "Covert Affairs" series with us! I am giving away British swag to one randomly selected commenter.  To enter the giveaway,

1. What is your favorite antique ... from your house, an antique store, or a historic place?  I have a Belgian buffet that is a smaller version than the above buffet from the Biltmore Hotel in Coral Gables, Florida.

2. Comments are open through Saturday, May 21, 10 pm in Baltimore.

3. I'll post the winner on Sunday, May 22.

Mahalo,

Kim in Baltimore

Aloha Spirit in Charm City

Coming in October 2016

Washington Loves Readers Luncheon - Spotlight on Anne Barton

The Washington Romance Writers (WRW) are hosting its annual Reader Luncheon (link) on Saturday, October 8, 2016.  I look forward to chatting with Anne Barton.  From her website (link),

Anne Barton started swiping romances from her mom’s bookshelf as a teenager and decided historicals (with their balls, dukes, and gowns) were the best. So, when she had the chance to spend a semester in London she packed her bags—and promptly fell in love with the city, its history, and its pubs. She dreamed of writing romance, but somehow ended up a software analyst instead.

Fortunately, a few years and a few careers later, Anne found her way back to writing the stories she loves and won the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart®for Regency Historical Romance. She lives in Maryland with her husband and three children, who try valiantly not to roll their eyes whenever she quotes Jane Austen. Her weaknesses include reality TV, cute shoes, and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

Anne is the creator of the Honeycote series, including ONE WILD WINTER'S EVE:

ONCE YOU'VE HAD A TASTE OF SCANDAL...

As the Duke of Huntford's sister, Lady Rose Sherbourne follows the rules of well-bred society. Always chaperoned. Never engaging in unseemly behavior. Well, except for that one summer, years ago. And yet she's never been able to forget that handsome stable master or the stolen moments they shared. She's always wondered what might have happened if he hadn't disappeared without a word... Now she's about to find out.

YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK

Charles Holland never expected to see Lady Rose again. And yet the years haven't lessened his devotion—or his desire—in any way. Despite their differences in class, Charles cannot stop himself from wanting to possess her. But as they uncover one intimate secret after another about her family, they realize that, this time, their love may come at a very dear price...

I am giving away a book choice from my convention stash to one randomly selected commenter. To enter the giveaway,

1. Leave a comment about your weakness - Anne's are "Reality TV, cute shoes, and coffee".  My weaknesses are Hawaii TV, cute cats, and chocolate.

2. Comments are open through Saturday, April 30, 10 pm in Baltimore.

3. I'll post the winner on Sunday, May 1.

Mahalo,

Kim in Baltimore

Aloha Spirit in Charm City

Cute shoes, er, slippahs

Aloha to Vivienne Lorret and THE DEBUTANTE IS MINE (Season's Original, No. 1)

USA Today bestselling author Vivienne Lorret launches a new historical romance series featuring the Season’s Original—a coveted title awarded by the ton’s elite to one lucky debutante...

From the Season Standard: ”A true Season’s Original embodies the class, grace, and style of the ton. Such an honor ensures the recipient their pick of eligible suitors…“

Lilah’s Appleton’s prospects are looking dim. With one last chance to find a titled husband before she’s forced to wed her wretched cousin, she must make this Season count. Plain, forgettable Lilah must become the Season’s Original. Desperate, she seeks help from the devilishly charming, untitled, and thoroughly unsuitable Jack Marlowe. All she must do now is resist the tempting rogue…

Bastard son and self-made man, Jack Marlowe loathes the aristocracy. When he meets Lilah, he expects her to be like all the other greedy husband-hunters. But she’s far more dangerous. Her alluring smiles and sharp tongue intrigue him. Before he knows it, he agrees to help her find a husband, revealing tricks to ensnare any man. The only problem is, his plan works too well—on him.

When Lilah becomes the belle of the ball, Jack realizes he may lose her forever-unless he can take a chance on love and claim his debutante...

Buy Links: Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo

USA Today bestselling author, VIVIENNE LORRET loves romance novels, her pink laptop, her husband, and her two sons (not necessarily in that order … but there are days). Transforming copious amounts of tea into words, she is an Avon Impulse author of works including: Tempting Mr. Weatherstone, The Wallflower Wedding Series, The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series, The Duke’s Christmas Wish, and the Season’s Original Series.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Vivienne offers an excerpt from THE DEBUTANTE IS MINE ... 

Once in her favorite spot beneath the arbor, she drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. The air was chilly, but there was no breeze to make her too cold without a shawl. Overhead, clematis and rose vines were still brown and dormant. On the ground beside the stone path at her feet, a myriad of crocuses bloomed gaily, while tulip shoots were coming into their full height, hinting at their splendor. And halfway up, between the white arbor post and the slatted wooden bench, a spider’s web fanned out, its occupant hidden from view.

She was just leaning closer to study it when she heard the door open and close with a quiet click. Assuming it was Myrtle on an errand for Aunt Zinnia, Lilah didn’t bother to turn. “You may tell my aunt that I will return shortly. I have need of a breath of air.”

“Do you breathe better when you’re bent at the waist?” a man’s deep voice asked.

Startled, Lilah jerked upright, whipping around to face the stranger.

Only he wasn’t quite a stranger. She’d seen him before. In fact, not more than an hour ago. And he looked just as out of place in this manicured garden as his Destrier had trotting along the London streets. She imagined, however, that man and beast would look perfectly at home galloping across an untamed moor or into battle. The man had a feral, warrior look about him. Especially with the golden, hot-ember color of his eyes beneath the arch of a tawny brow. And instead of walking with perfect pedestrian form, he prowled toward her—agile but controlled, as if always prepared for battle.

Beneath a gray tailored coat, his broad shoulders subtly rolled and shifted. The black buttons of his striped waistcoat were in a flat, straight line, suggesting a firmness, about which she likely shouldn’t ponder. The same way she should not admire the storm-cloud gray shade of his riding breeches and the way they encased his thighs, displaying every gradation of his impressive musculature.

When her gaze dipped, she also took note of the large bouquet of pink and white primroses he carried, hanging carelessly by his side. The flowers were enough to remind her of why she was out in the garden. A fresh wave of disappointment hit her.

“I believe,” she said, but when her words came out in nothing more than a whisper, she cleared her throat and began again. “I believe you’ll find my cousin in the parlor.”

He stopped just beneath the arbor, not two steps from her. As they had earlier, his lips curled into a smirk at one corner of his mouth. This time, there was no mistaking the direction of his gaze. He was, most assuredly, looking at her. “When I asked where I would find Miss Lilah Appleton, a rather frantic maid pointed in this direction. Was she mistaken?”

Lilah’s breath caught in her throat. His voice was that of a warrior’s too—sure and commanding but with an underlying edge. Do not cross me, that tone warned as much as it promised. I will fight to the death for you. She could easily hear him saying those words on a battlefield . . . or in a ballroom. Of course, his attire would be different for each occasion . . .