Tag Archives: historicalfiction

Author interviews are always revealing!

If you fancy a deeper insight into my writing quirks and eccentric habits, you could do worse than have a look at the fun Interview I did with fellow author Pam Lecky! 😜 Thanks so much for doing this, Pam ❤️

Another exclusive peek at the latest Tudor romp!

LORD OF MISTRUST comes out on December 30th, but if I were you, I’d buy it NOW at two thirds discount. Order your copy here for just $0.99.

Here’s a bit about the story. You can also scroll down for an exclusive extract from the book.

Sir Robert Mallory thinks the young woman he encounters, who is dressed as a boy, is a pickpocket and a prostitute. He soon discovers that the delectable Chloe is, in fact, the illegitimate daughter of a man to whom he owes a great deal of money. Things go from bad to worse when she’s kidnapped by traitors to the crown.

Robert is faced with an impossible choice. He’s desperate to save Chloe, but if he follows his heart, the security of the entire realm is at risk.

Here is a exclusive extract from the book.

“How shall we occupy the next hour?”

There was a glint in his eyes that belied his claim of exhaustion. A predatory glint.

She backed toward the door. “I hope you’re not having any lascivious thoughts, sir. I’ve told you time and time again that I’m not what you think.”

He followed her and as she reached for the latch, his hand came over hers. “Pray, don’t decamp just yet, Mistress. You have not yet explained your presence at Mistress Riviere’s, nor why you were dressed as a boy one moment and a charming woman the next. I beg you, indulge me. Fill my empty moments by telling me your story.”

Curse it! He was far too close, his blue eyes alight with mischief. And with promise. She gulped.

“Step back, sir. You’re trying to take advantage of me. If I saved your life tonight, you should be showing me your gratitude, not… not looming over me.” And not looking like he wanted to kiss her, threatening to reawaken all those wicked imaginings she’d had earlier.

“Was I looming? My apologies. So, are you going to tell me what you were doing in that house of ill repute?”

“Certainly not, as it’s none of your business.”

He tipped his head on one side. “If you are a whore, you’re the most reticent I’ve ever encountered.”

Why did his gaze keep sliding toward her mouth? It was most unsettling.

She pushed her shoulders back. “I’ve told you so many times that I am not. You should accept the word of a lady.”

“If you are a lady, then who are your people? Who are your family, and whither are you bound?”

He was looming even more. So close, she could feel his breath on her face. And there was no space for retreat. Placing a hand firmly on his chest, she gave him a push, but he was immovable. Instead, the rogue placed his palm over hers and came even closer.

Time for the knee again? She rather thought it was. But before she could move, he’d wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her against him.

“Nothing to say, Madam Mystery?” His lips teased her ear.

She tried to speak, but her voice lodged in her throat. A giddy sensation of excitement washed over her as she stood quivering in his arms, fascinated to discover what he’d do next. The strength and power that emanated from him both comforted and alarmed her. Protection, safety, danger. She wriggled, only to find his arms tightening around her.

He pulled his head back a little, and she was able to focus on his face. His gaze had darkened and a smile played about his lips.

“I find staring death in the face has a way of making one feel gloriously alive—as if one’s continued existence was a gift not to be squandered. As if there isn’t a single moment to lose. Tell me, didn’t besting that blackguard stir your blood, just a little?”

She shook her head. It had been terrifying. Particularly when he’d pointed his weapon back at her.

“But you were magnificent.” Even though Sir Robert was holding her less tightly now, her limbs had turned to water, and she couldn’t have escaped had she wanted to. Did she still want to escape?

He twined a curl of hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek. Suddenly, she remembered she was wearing only her thin summer nightgown. Far too little to shield her body from his. He must be able to feel her breasts pushing up against him—it would incite him, would it not?

What else had her mother taught her about evading the attentions of a lustful man? Frantically, she searched her memory, struggling to pull together her scattered thoughts. Sir Robert, meanwhile, was gazing at her mouth again, a hungry smile on his lips.

Go limp. That was it. Go limp and slide down, out of the grasp of your over-amorous suitor.

Well, it might work with the clientele at Mistress Riviere’s when they overstepped the mark, but they didn’t have the reflexes of Sir Robert Mallory. The instant she relaxed, he scooped her up and held her across his body.

“You’re not about to swoon on me, are you? Mayhap you’d better lie down.” He carried her to the bed and laid her atop the cover.

Nay! If she lay down, she’d be completely at his mercy. But when she struggled to sit up, he pressed her shoulders back against the mattress, then lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

It was the briefest of touches, but it calmed her fears and, at the same time, ignited a curiosity within her. Her treacherous body demanded more.

“Sweet as sugared rose petals. I would taste you again.” His voice was as soft as the caress of his lips.

She should turn her head aside, or fight—or even scream. But she did none of these things. She merely gazed into his admiring eyes and wondered what was to follow.

“No complaint, Mistress?” He brushed her lips with the tip of his tongue, and they tingled in response.

Nothing to complain of as yet.

Don’t forget- if you buy the book now, it’ll only cost you $0.99! Here’s the link- http://mybook.to/mistrust

An exclusive peek at the latest Tudor romp!

LORD OF MISTRUST comes out on December 30th, but if I were you, I’d buy it NOW at two thirds discount. Order your copy here for just $0.99.

Here’s a bit about the story. You can also scroll down for an exclusive extract from the book.

Headstrong Chloe dresses as a boy and runs away to her birth mother to escape a horrendous marriage. She’s shocked to discover that her parent owns a bawdy house, and is in no position to help- nor will she reveal the identity of Chloe’s father. When a street accident throws Chloe into the lap of the tempting Robert Mallory, he offers distraction and adventure, but his stubborn refusal to trust her endangers them both.

Hot-headed Robert Mallory is battling to protect his sister, his livelihood, and his honor. He’s a spy who can’t follow the rules and distrusts everyone, particularly the delectable young woman from the bordello. Having endangered her, then rescued her from a nest of traitors, he learns that Chloe is the natural daughter of the one man he can’t afford to upset, Sir Mortimer Fowler. Offering marriage to save Chloe’s reputation is out of the question, as Fowler needs her for bait in a deadly trap.

Robert is faced with an impossible choice. He’s desperate to save Chloe, but if he follows his heart, the security of the entire realm is at risk.

Here is a exclusive extract from the book.

The hero, Sir Robert Mallory, has just offered to marry Mistress Chloe Emmerson in order to save her reputation. He doesn’t get quite the response he’d anticipated…

“He could tell from the glint in her eyes that she was becoming angrier by the minute. Mayhap he should excuse himself until she calmed down. Ye gods, if this was how she behaved when he offered to save her reputation, how would she react if she knew he’d drugged and searched her?

“If I swear not to mention your name to my father, will you tell me where he is?”

“I dare not.” He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

“Will you not tell me the nature of your dealings with him, then?”

“I cannot.” Robert felt wretched. He’d just made the biggest mistake of his life and was about to reap the consequences.

“Then, get out of this chamber, sir.”

“I can’t go. Not until we’ve resolved this.”

“Go. I never want to set eyes on you again.”

“Chloe.” He straightened his spine. “You’re being unreasonable.”

There was a sudden flurry of movement, and before he could react, she’d taken one of the dags from his luggage and was pointing it at him with a trembling hand.

“Wrong. Now, I’m being unreasonable. Get you gone. Send someone else to collect your chest. Be sure not to follow me to London—or ever again repeat your insulting suggestion that we be wed.”

Was she holding the gun that was still primed, or the one that wasn’t? He dared not take the risk. Flinging up his hands, he bowed his head.

“As you wish. Though I have to say I wish things were otherwise.”

“Go.” She waved the gun.

He went. He could see no other choice.”

* A “dag” is a Tudor handheld gun, as featured in the first Trysts and Treachery book, LORD OF DECEPTION.

A hero with amnesia and an indefatigable heroine

I thoroughly enjoyed writing the story of the romance between the two main characters in LORD OF THE FOREST, Book 3 in the Trysts and Treachery series. I thought I might experiment by putting a few excerpts and extracts out there.

Here’s the main drive of the story-

You can take a man out of the wild, but you can’t take the wild out of the man.

She failed to save the man she loved. She won’t make the same mistake again.

Desperate to avoid a suffocating marriage, Clemence plans to dazzle at court, and remain as chaste as The Virgin Queen. Then she’s rescued from kidnappers by the mysterious Lancelot, and only a betrothal to him can save her reputation. But what could induce her father to give her to a man with no memory, no status, and no home but the forest? Especially when that man has a propensity for throwing people into horse troughs, getting himself poisoned, and being accused of murder.

In his forest home, he’s a king among both beasts and men.

Lancelot does everything differently. He can’t help it; he’s been living free in the forest with no memory of shame, sin or the reason for wearing clothes. No memory of anything at all, in fact, although his dreams reveal he’s had a close brush with death. But was he a victim or quite the opposite?

Living hand-to-mouth in his woodland lair, Lancelot is used to helping himself to what he wants, and he wants Clemence. But when she drags him back into the real world, he soon realizes that she will bring him either salvation… or oblivion.

Here’s the excerpt. If you’re wondering about the sword, the setting is England in 1585. Our hero has just been taken back to his home, though he has no memory of the place. The heroine is trying to restore his memory, despite him being concerned about what dark secrets might be unearthed…

“He tried the weight of the sword, then swung it around in an arc. His arm seemed to move of its own accord, blocking imaginary blows to his shoulders and legs.

“Some of my knowledge has been restored by reading your father’s books. Some things I simply remember—or at least the knowledge comes back if I worry at it like a terrier at a rat. And sometimes, skills return to me—like this.” He swung the sword again, stabbing it with pinpoint accuracy at the center of a red poppy on the tapestry. “Hopefully, more abilities will return if I have need of them.”

“You have scars on your back. Someone attacked you with a sword or a knife, and evidently bested you.”

A fact he had to face, though he hated it. “Mayhap I had no weapon with which to defend myself. Or was already incapacitated.”

She grimaced. “Then it was a cowardly attack. Mayhap I should have a sword, too, in case I need to defend myself.”

He immediately sheathed the ancient weapon he’d found, and fastened the belt around his hips. “Not while I draw breath, you won’t. If you hold a blade, your attacker will feel forced to use his own. If you have no weapon, he’ll be more inclined to parley. Besides, what need have you of steel when you have me to protect you?”

She tossed her head. “I suppose you’ll tell me next that swordplay isn’t so much fun as it looks. And I thought you a free spirit, with a mind open to new ideas, eschewing the everyday rules by which we live.”

He’d thought himself a free spirit, too, by comparison. But when it came to Clemence, he found he could happily follow the rules if it kept her safe.

“When I know what I know and how I know it, I might then be in a position to teach you, oh, courageous maid. But for now, I am the one wearing the sword, and intend to keep it that way.”

If you want to pre-order the book, you can do so here-

http://mybook.to/lordoftheforest

http://mybook.to/lordoftheforest