Post an Excerpt, Any Excerpt

I have company in from the States, so I’m leaving it up to you. Strut your stuff and post an PG excerpt of reasonable length from your finished word or WIP. You may also post buy links or contact links. I’m off to play tour guide. Have fun!

Her is my excerpt from The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh, which releases for pre-order in June!

October 25, 1814, Marsh House, London

Miss Anna Marsh was in her parlor reading, when her maid, Lizzy, entered and held out a grubby piece of paper.

“Came from my brother, Kev, this morning,” Lizzy said.

Anna nodded, took the note, and opened it. She perused the contents then closed her eyes. “I’m going to have to find a way to convince Mamma to allow me to remove to Marsh Hill before the Little Season has ended. Though I cannot do anything until after Lady Phoebe’s wedding.”

“That bad, miss?” her maid asked, screwing up her face. “You might have a time of it. I heard Lady Marsh was planning to go to some country house next week.”

Anna sighed. Ever since her brother Harry’s death, Mamma had become difficult. “She probably expects me to go with her.” Anna shrugged. “Well I cannot. Someone has been sniffing around Thanport. I don’t like the sound of it.” Anna rose and walked over to her mahogany writing desk. She opened a drawer. Eschewing the neat stack of elegant pressed paper, she pulled out a piece of the distinctly rougher type. “I’ll write Kev and tell him to lay low until I can get there.”

K

No information exchanged or meetings scheduled until I arrive.

A

She sealed the message and handed it to Lizzy. “Make sure this goes out to-day, even if you have to take it yourself.”

“Yes, miss.”

Anna pinched her upper nose. “I do hope this is not going to make our lives even more complicated.”

“What do you think that other man wants?” Lizzy asked.

“I don’t know.” Anna shook her head. “But I have a feeling whatever it is will do us no good. I’m going to Mamma and try to talk her around. I do wish she and Papa could settle their differences.”

Lizzy nodded. “It does make things a bit more difficult.”

“That it does,” Anna said, smiling grimly.

A few minutes later, she knocked briefly on the door to the morning room in the back of the house, and tripped in only to stop. The gentleman sitting on a chair next to her mother’s chaise rose. Anna curtseyed.

Sebastian, Baron Rutherford, bowed. Anna fought the urge to smile. He was tall and rangy. The cut of his coat molded to his broad shoulders, and his pantaloons clung to his muscular legs. He had hair the color of a hazelnut and impossibly gray eyes. When he was angry, they shone like molten silver. Anna frequently made him angry.

She’d loved him since she was a child. If he’d asked for her hand when she’d first come out, she would have accepted him. Now, at one and twenty, she was wiser.

Sebastian— he hated his given name— spent the last few years dangling after Anna’s best friend, Phoebe, who was now marrying Lord Marcus Finley. With no more cover and his mother nagging at him to wed, he’d turned to Anna. Yet, the past two years had made it impossible for her to marry him unless he truly loved her and all she was. She wasn’t sure they even knew each other anymore.

Anna met his gaze coolly. “Lord Rutherford, pray, what brings you here?”

“Oh, Anna dear,” her mother said. “Lord Rutherford has very kindly offered to help by escorting you to Charteries for Lady Phoebe’s wedding.”

Anna raised a brow and stared at Sebastian for a moment before turning to address her mother. Lady Marsh reminded Anna of a wraith. Her mother’s dark brown hair was still unmarked by silver. She always dressed in flowing gowns and draped gauzy shawls around her shoulders, giving the impression she would blow away if one breathed hard enough. Mamma desperately wanted Anna married and could not understand how it was she’d reached the age of one and twenty still single.

As objecting to Sebastian’s escort would do her no good, Anna kept the smile on her face. “Yes, Mamma, very kind of him.” She glanced at him and thought she saw the remnants of a smug look on his face. “How do you think of these ideas?” she asked sweetly.

 

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Sunday News, Gowns, an Excerpt, and a Winner!!

UPDATE!! Louisa Cornell is the winner of Sally MacKenzie’s book, Surprizing Lord Jack!!

A lot has happened this week and between editing, plotting ideas for the next two books, getting ready for the pre-order release of  The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh in June, less than two weeks away, and being in charge of two conference events in July, I am unable to keep up with Eight Sentence Sunday. If you were following and want me to post more of The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh, let me know and I will do so.

I’d planned to announce the winners of Regina Jeffer’s  and Sally MacKenzie’s books. Unfortunately, I’ve not received them yet. If I hear from either or both of them today I’ll post the winners.

As some of you may know, I’m attending RWA Nationals in Atlanta in July, which includes the Beau Monde mini-conference. The Beau Monde is the Regency chapter of the RWA. Every year they host a soirée. Last year I was unable to get a costume together, but this year I planned ahead.

Frency Regency Gown

Here is the 1810 French gown mine is based on.

Back of Gown

The front will not be quite as low, and I decided to go with a slightly different back.

Unfortunately, I was unable to find hand embroidered silk chiffon with gold thread, but I did discover this lovely chiffon and the gold lining at my local fabric store.

Embroidered Chiffon and Gold Lining

As well as this trim to go just above the hem, and on the right edging for the neckline and sleeves.

Trim for Bottom of Gown

I also found these kidskin gloves on Ebay. They should be my size.

Embroidered Kidskin Gloves

I’m really looking forward to wearing the gown in July.Speaking of evening gowns, here is an excerpt from the Seduction of Lady Phoebe.

She was more beautiful now than she had been at fifteen, more mature and elegant. She wore a dull gold silk gown. He wanted to groan as he took in the gown’s low neckline that barely encased her ample breasts. Perfect mounds that he wanted to caress.

Phoebe’s ears were adorned simply with pearl drops that tempted him to run the tip of his tongue over the outer swirl of her ear, to breathe in her fresh and woodsy scent.

Marcus couldn’t bear the thought that Phoebe would ever kiss another man. He never before felt such possessiveness. No other woman made his pulse race or called to his soul. He wanted to tell her she was his—had always been his.

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Guest Author Sally MacKenzie

Author Sally MacKenzie

Please help me welcome, multi-published, best selling, Regency author Sally MacKenzie. Sally has graciously offered to give away a copy of her latest release, Surprising Lord Jack, to one lucky commenter. All you have to do to be eligible is to leave your email address.

Ella: If you’ve been reading Sally’s latest series, The Duchess of Love, and I highly recommend that you do, you’ll know that the Duchess of Love is actually a mother intent on seeing her children well married. You probably already know I’m a fan of familial interference. Sally, what was the inspiration for this series?

Sally: Thanks so much for inviting me to stop by, Ella.

I’m not sure there’s really any one inspiration. I do have four sons, but I am most certainly not a matchmaker. The two who are married found their wives very much on their own–one couple met via an online dating site and the other met in college. However, the duchess also writes “Venus’s Love Notes”–a sort of newsletter of marital advice for the ton–which her sons find terribly embarrassing. I know what the inspiration for that was: my sons are also quite embarrassed by my writing (not that they have ever read a word of it). They are happy for me, but they’d prefer to think I don’t know anything about romance. In fact, my youngest son made the embarrassment of having a mother who writes romance the topic of his college application essay–and he was accepted everywhere he applied.

Ella: That sounds like he wasn’t really very embarrassed at all. This isn’t your first series. How long have you been writing and what prompted you to begin?

Sally: My first book, The Naked Duke, came out in 2005, and I’ve had a book or a book and a novella out every year since. I’d always wanted to be a writer “when I grew up,” and when the boys were young I wrote picture book texts and got a number of “good” rejections. But then my four sons and their varied activities took over my life. I ran the Cub Scouts and the swim team and was on the PTA. My writing was limited to school newsletters and auction programs. When the oldest boy was getting ready to leave for college, I faced the fact that I either had to get back to writing for publication or give up the dream. So I put my butt in a chair and my fingers on the keyboard and made myself begin and keep going until the end. And then I revised and revised.

Ella: What drew you to Regencies?

Sally: Georgette Heyer! I devoured her stories growing up. I think I even absorbed a Regency vocabulary–my husband, when we were dating, would give me odd looks when I’d use a word like “brangle” in conversation. I loved her wit most of all. And when I was surrounded by dirty diapers and crying babies, my mental escape was a Regency. My mother and I used to go to lunch once a month and stop in Borders to buy the monthly selection of Signet Regencies.

Ella: Oh, my. Georgette Heyer was my inspiration as well! You’re a USA Today bestselling author, what advice would you give a debut author or someone in the process of trying to get published?

Sally: Don’t worry so much about publishing or blogging or social media. Focus on writing your story, since that’s the only thing you can control. Try to banish any negative thoughts–get out of your own way–and write. Some people plot; some people don’t. Some people write every day; some people don’t. Figure out what works for you and then do it. There is no right way to write; there is only your way. Write the story all the way to the end, and then revise, revise, revise. And then start on the next story.

Publishing today offers many options–NYC publishers, small presses, e-publishers, self-publishing. Which option you choose depends on many factors–but none of it is important until you have a solid story ready to go to readers.

Ella: Is there anything you would have done differently in your journey to publication?

Sally: Not really. Oh, sometimes I wish I’d written more determinedly and sold when I was in my 20s or 30s, but then I remind myself I was busy doing other things. And I suspect the stories I would have written then would be much different from the stories I’m writing now. And while I did collect a number of rejections when I was writing picture books, I didn’t even submit my first published book to an editor. I sold as the result of the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart contest. One of the editors who read the final round liked the manuscript so much she got my contact information and called me out of the blue to offer a two book contract.

Ella: What’s next and when can we expect to see it?

Sally: Loving Lord Ash, the last book in the Duchess of Love series, comes out in March 2014. Now I’m supposed to be coming up with a new idea, which I hope to do once I have our house put back together. We just had all the carpets torn out of the bedroom level and hardwood floors put in. The floors look great, but there’s dust everywhere. And I’ve squirreled all our possessions away–it may take a while to get everything put to rights.

Ella: I sincerely feel for you. I’ve renovated enough houses to know what a disruption it can be. Without further to do, here is a blurb and excerpt of Surprising Lord Jack. This cover is to die for.

Unladylike behavior…

Frances Hadley has managed her family’s estate for years. So why can’t she request her own dowry? She’ll have to go to London herself and knock some sense into the men interfering in her life. With the nonsense she’s dealt with lately, though, there’s no way she’s going as a woman. A pair of breeches and a quick chop of her red curls, and she’ll have much less to worry about…

Jack Valentine, third son of the famous Duchess of Love, is through being pursued by pushy young ladies. One particularly determined miss has run him out of his own house party. Luckily the inn has one bed left. Jack just has to share with a rather entertaining red-headed youth. Perhaps the two of them should ride to London together. It will make a pleasant escape from his mother’s matchmaking melodrama!

CHAPTER 1

Miss Frances Hadley staggered up to the Crowing Cock’s weather-beaten door, her legs, backside, and feet throbbing with each step.

Blast it, men rode astride all the time. How could she have guessed the experience would be so painful? And having to walk the last half mile in Frederick’s old boots hadn’t helped. Damn icy roads.

She took a deep breath of the sharp, winter air. And if Daisy was lame—

She scowled at the door. If her horse was lame, she’d figure out another way to get to London. Hell, she’d walk if she had to. She was not going home to Landsford. To think Aunt Viola had been going to help Mr. Littleton with his nefarious scheme—

Oh! Every time she thought about it, she wanted to hit something—or someone.

She put her hand on the door. The drunken male laughter was so loud she could hear it out here. Pot-valiant oafs! At least drunkards were even less likely than sober men to see through her disguise. She almost hoped one of them would approach her. She’d take great delight in bloodying his nose.

She shoved open the door and was hit by a cacophony of voices and the stench of spilled ale, smoke, and too many sweaty male bodies. A barmaid, burdened with six or seven mugs of ale, rushed out of a room to her left.

“Where can I see about a bed for the night?” Frances had to shout to make herself heard. She had a deep voice for a woman, but was it deep enough? Apparently. The girl barely glanced at her.

“See Mr. Findley,” she said without breaking stride, jerking her head back at the room she’d just left, “but we’re full up.”

Oh, damn. Frances’s stomach plummeted.

She would not despair. If worse came to worst, she’d find a corner of the common room and sleep there. Or perhaps the innkeeper would let her stay in the stables. Even if Daisy were able to carry her, she could not go any farther. Night was coming on.

She went through the narrow doorway. A stout man with a bald head and an equally stout, gray-haired woman were sitting at a scarred wooden table, eating their dinner. Frances inhaled. Mutton and potatoes. Not her favorite dishes, but she was so hungry, the food smelled like ambrosia.

“Tonight’s the duchess’s ball, Archie,” the woman was saying. She waved a bite of mutton at him. “Do you think Her Grace found a match for Lord Ned or Lord Jack this year?”

Archie snorted. “Don’t know why this year should be any different than last year or the year before, Madge.”

“I suppose you’re right. I just—”

Frances cleared her throat. “Pardon me, but might you have a room for the night?”

The man looked over and frowned. “’Fraid every bed is full.”

“I see.” She bit her lip. Damn it.

“Oh, Archie,” his wife said, getting up. “I’m sure we can find something for the poor lad. He looks exhausted.”

“I am very tired, madam, and my horse is lame.” Frances was suddenly a hairsbreadth from groveling. Lying in a real bed would be heaven, especially compared to sleeping on the hard floor with the tosspots in the common room or on straw in the stable.

Mrs. Findley clucked her tongue. “You’re likely hungry as well.”

Frances’s stomach spoke for her, growling loudly. She flushed. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, eight hours earlier. She should have packed something, but she hadn’t expected to be so delayed, and to be frank, she’d been too angry to think clearly.

And if she’d had a knife in her hand, Aunt Viola would not have been safe.

Mrs. Findley laughed. “Come, sit with us.” She took Frances’s arm and towed her over to the table.

“I-I don’t wish to intrude. If you could just spare a slice of mutton and a potato, I’m sure I would do very well.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The woman pushed her into a chair and started filling a plate with food. “You must be starving.”

Frances’s stomach growled again, and Mrs. Findley laughed. “Poor boy.” She put the plate down in front of her. “Now eat before you fall over from hunger. I’m sure we can find you someplace to sleep.”

Mr. Findley was less inclined to charity. “Madge, the only room we have free is the one I save for the Valentines.”

“Well, none of them will be here tonight, will they? It’s the birthday ball, remember? They won’t miss it, no matter how much they hate attending. They’re good boys.”

Ha! Frances speared a bit of potato with her fork. Jack, the youngest of the Duke of Greycliffe’s sons, was far from a “good boy.” Aunt Viola was forever holding him up as an example of the evils of Town. A rake of the first order and likely a procurer as well, he was rumored to know—intimately—every brothel owner in London.

“I suppose you’re right.” Mr. Findley turned his attention to Frances. “What’s your name, lad, and where are you headed?”

“Frances Had—” Frances coughed. She could use her Christian name—spelled with an i instead of an e it was a male name anyway—but perhaps she should be cautious about using her family name. “Frances Haddon. I’m on my way to London.”

“London?” Mr. Findley’s brows shot up and then down into a scowl. “How old are you? You haven’t escaped from school, have you?”

“No, sir.” She focused on cutting her meat so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. “I’m, er, older than I look.”

Mrs. Findley laughed. “What? Thirteen instead of twelve? Don’t try to cozen us, young sir. We’ve raised three sons. Here it is the end of the day, and you don’t have the faintest shadow of a beard.”

This pretending to be a man was more complicated than she’d thought. Frances smiled and stuffed a large piece of mutton in her mouth.

“What can your mother be thinking to let you travel alone like this?” Mrs. Findley made a clucking sound with her tongue again.

Frances swallowed. “My mother died a number of years ago, madam. I live with my elderly aunt.” Aunt Viola would not be happy with that description, but she had passed her sixtieth birthday.

“Well, I can’t fathom even an aunt, elderly or not, letting a young ’un such as yourself travel up to Town alone.” There was more than a hint of suspicion in Mr. Findley’s voice.

“My aunt wasn’t happy about it, sir,”—Viola had been shouting so loudly it was surprising they hadn’t heard her at the Crowing Cock—“but I was desperate to go.” She wasn’t about to spend one more second under the same roof as that treacherous woman. “I’m to visit my brother. I would have got to London hours ago if the roads hadn’t been so bad.” She’d meant to stay the night with Frederick, see their man of business in the morning, and then go back to Landsford and wave the bank draft for the amount of her dowry in Viola’s face before taking it, packing up, and moving out.

* * * * *

kensingtonbooks.com
amazon.com
bn.com
booksamillion.com
indiebound.org

 Author Bio:

USA Today bestselling author Sally MacKenzie writes funny, hot, Regency-set books for Kensington Zebra. Her Naked Nobility series concluded (at least for the time being) with The Naked King, which was named one of ALA Booklist’s top ten romances for 2011; now she’s hard at work on a new “Duchess of Love” series. The prequel novella, “The Duchess of Love,” is a 2013 RWA RITA® finalist in the Romance Novella category. Bedding Lord Ned, the first full-length book in the series, received a starred review from Publishers Weekly and also made Booklist’s top ten romance list of 2012. Surprising Lord Jack, the second book, received a starred review from Booklist. Loving Lord Ash will release March 2014. Her books have been translated into Czech, French, Indonesian, Japanese, Norwegian, Portuguese, Russian, Spanish, and Turkish. Sally graduated with a B.A. in English from the University of Notre Dame in the first class of women. She’s a Cornell Law School dropout, former federal regulation writer, recovering parent volunteer, mother of four grown sons (and mother-in-law to two daughters), and middle-of-the-pool Masters swimmer. A native of Washington, D. C., she still resides in suburban Maryland with her husband.

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Work in Progress Excerpts

As I was trying to come up with something different for today, it occurred to me that all authors, published or not, have WIPs. So that’s what we’re going to do today. Please post an excerpt of your WIP. After your excerpt feel free to post your blog, website or both so people can find you.

Here is mine from the currently titled The Courtship of Miss Eugénie Villaret, the 5^th book in The Marriage Game.

July, 1816, England 

William, Viscount Wivenly, caught a glimpse of white muslin through a thinly leafed part of the tall hedge behind which he’d taken refuge.

“Are you sure he came this way?” a feminine voice whispered.

“Quite sure,” came the hushed answer. “You must be careful, Criseida. If I tell you what Miss Stavely told me in the strictest confidence, you must promise never to repeat what I’m about to say as I swore I’d never breathe a word.”

“Yes, yes,” Miss Criseida Hawthorne replied urgently, “I promise.”

He’d been dodging the Hawthorne chit for two days now, and unfortunately she wasn’t the only one. Will wished he knew who the other woman was.

“Well then,” the other young woman paused. “I really shouldn’t. If it got out, she’d be ruined!”

“I already promised.” Miss Hawthorne wheedled.

After a few moments, the other girl continued. “Miss Stavely said she followed Lord Wivenly to the library, so that they’d be alone, and he’d have to marry her.”

“What an excellent plan.” Miss Hawthorne’s tone fell somewhere between admiring and wishful.

“Well it wasn’t.”

Even thinking about the incident with Miss Stavely, made Will shudder. There were few worse fates than being married to her. Fortunately the lady was not as intelligent as she was crafty. The minute she’d turned the lock, she announced he’d have to marry her. However, she’d failed to take into account the French windows through which he had made his escape.

“What do you mean?” Miss Hawthorne asked.

“Have you heard anything about a betrothal being announced?”

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Multi-published Regency Author Laurie Eakes

Please help me welcome multi-published, historical author, Laurie Alice Eakes. Laurie’s books range from England to Scotland and across the Atlantic to America. Today Laurie has agreed to give a copy of any of her Midwife books or Regencies, including Family Guardian, winner’s choice, in print or electronic, to one lucky commenter. All you have to do to be eligible is leave your email address.

Ella:  Laurie Alice, tell us a little about yourself, and your writing journey.

Laurie Alice: Writing a novel was always something I wanted to do, and I played around with various ideas and time periods for a while until finally managing to finish something I thought might have a chance at publication after I received my master’s degree in writing fiction. Since I felt called to write for the inspirational market, and it wasn’t open to Regencies at the time, I wrote a Regency for Avalon, now Montlake, and sold that one. It won the National Readers Choice Award for Best Regency, and I was sure I’d made it. Hahahaha. The next step up the ladder was a long one, and I got there, and then another long step until something broke free. Since October 28 of 2008, I have sold fifteen more books and three novellas. 

Ella: What drew you to write historicals?

Laurie Alice: History fascinates me. What happened hundreds of years ago effects us more than what we acknowledge. For me, it’s not so much of what did happen as what could of happened within the context of history. Those what ifs spawn historical fiction. 

Ella: How would you categorize your books?

Laurie Alice: I call all but the two Avalon books inspirational historical romance. Some, like The Midwives series and The Daughters of Bainbridge (these latter three Regencies) Historical romantic suspense. Most of my books have at least some mystery or suspense element sin them because that’s what I like to read. 

Ella: Tell us a bit about your latest release and what you’re working on now.

Laurie Alice: Choices of the Heart is my latest release. It’s the third book in The Midwives series and focuses on Esther, the daughter of the hero and heroine from the first book in the series. The year is 1842 and set in my favorite part of the country—Southwest Virginia, the edge of the decline of midwifery. Doctors were beginning to take over childbirth with the advent of forceps and, soon, anesthesia, but in remote areas like Appalachia, midwives were still more common. But Esther wants to leave her past behind so thoroughly she intends to refuse to practice… 

Just a couple of weeks ago, I finished edits on my next Regency, A Reluctant Courtship, the third book in The Daughters of Bainbridge series. That’s out in October. And now I’m researching and plotting and researching…

 

Choices of the Heart

A Novel

Laurie Alice Eakes

Esther Cherrett comes from a proud line of midwives and was trained by her mother to take over the family calling. But when a terrible scandal threatens all she holds dear, Esther flees, taking a position as a teacher in the wild western mountains of Virginia. But instead of the refuge she was seeking, Esther finds herself in the midst of a deadly family feud—and courted by two men on opposite sides of the conflict. All she wants is to run away again.

But could it be that her past holds the key to reconciliation—and love?

In this gripping story of trust, deception, and bittersweet loss, you’ll discover the true meaning of choices of the heart.

Available at:

http://www.amazon.com

http://www.bn.com

http://www.cbd.com

Or wherever you like to buy books.

First Kiss - Excerpt

“Note: This is from pages 199 and 200 of Choices of the Heart, The Midwives #3. For resons you will understand when you read the book, I have not included any names so as not to include any spoilers.)

She clung to his fingers, pressed them against her cheek, and began to tremble as though the temperature had dropped to freezing.

“Shh. Hush now.” He knelt and gathered her against him, holding her close, stroking her hair down her back, murmuring, murmuring over her keening wails. “Hush now. Hush.”

“I”—she gasped—”can’t.”

“Yea, you can. You don’t want nobody else finding us like this. They’d have us before the preacher by morning.” His tone was light, teasing.

It worked. Her shuddering diminished. She managed to swallow the wailing sobs. If he released her, she wouldn’t tumble over or be sick. She would get to her feet and start walking.

He didn’t release her. He slid his hand beneath the fall of her hair and cupped the back of her head, tilting her face up toward his. Too close to his. His breath brushed her lips. His eyes gazed into hers. He was going to kiss her. She must stop him. It was wrong. They weren’t even courting. If the mere touch of his hand made her insides quake, how much more would his kiss do to her body, her heart, her soul?

His lips covered hers before she worked that out, and then she couldn’t think. She could only feel—warmth and excitement. She could only taste—lemons sweet and tart on his lips. Despite her head saying, No, no, no, she wound her fingers through his ragged curls and held him near for the first closeness she’d allowed herself in nearly six months, a closeness she thought she feared, believed she didn’t want.

Knew she shouldn’t have.

She tensed and dropped her hands to his shoulders.

He raised his head only enough to break the contact. “I expect that was a right foolish thing to do.”

She nodded.

“Should I apologize?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t stop you.”

“I’m right glad about that.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you practically since I met you. But you’ve been running from me since you got here.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Why?”

“I. . . I’m . . .” She jerked away and grabbed for her torn neckline. “Please. Please forget this happened.”

“Forget?” He smiled. “If you think I can forget that, you don’t know noth—anything about men.”

 

 

About the Author

“Eakes has a charming way of making her novels come to life without being over the top,” writes Romantic times of  bestselling, award-winning author Laurie Alice Eakes. Since she lay in bed as a child telling herself stories, she has fulfilled her dream of becoming a published author.  with the release of Choices of the Heart, The Midwives #3, she sees her twelfth book published, in addition to two novellas with more novels and novellas releasing over the next three years. A graduate of Asbury University with a degree in English and French, and  Seton Hill University, with a masters degree in Writing Popular Fiction, she also teaches writing and gives inspirational talks.

She lives in Texas with her husband, dogs, and cats, where she enjoys long walks, rainy days, and knitting—rather badly.

 

Follow her on Twitter: @laurieaeakes

Read excerpts from her books at: http://www.lauriealiceeakes.com

Find her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/laurie.eakes?ref=tn_tnmn

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Post Your Favorite Excerpt

Post you’re favorite excerpt. Feel free to post one of your own, or from any other source. Lots of books and movies, as well as new TV shows have come out recently so you should have lots of fodder.

Here is mine from The Seduction of Lady Phoebe, currently on pre-order.

Gradually moving back from the kiss, Marcus began to lift his head. Her eyes were glazed, desire stirring their depths. Desire for him.

The sudden consciousness that her yearning was for him, and only him, almost undid him, but he wanted more. He needed her love.

When their bodies parted, she asked, “Is kissing, always so—so intense?”

Marcus’s voice was deep and gravelly. “No.” He wanted to leave it at that, but she needed to know what he felt. “Only with you.”

Her breath quickened and her eyes widened. “It is because you love me?”

Marcus groaned. Why were they having this conversation? “Yes, because I love you, my reactions are deeper, more profound.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Hmm, I have no one with whom to compare.”

That was too much. The thought of her kissing anyone else pushed him over the edge. Marcus hauled her roughly into his arms and brought his mouth down hard on hers. When Phoebe opened her lips, he invaded, laying claim to her. This time one of his hands cupped her bottom, bringing her closer.

He could tell the moment Phoebe stopped thinking and gave herself to him. That was part of their problem. The Damn Woman thought too much. If he could only stop her from thinking long enough, he’d be married or at the very least betrothed.

A small kernel of an idea began to take form in his mind as he reluctantly set her feet back on the stone pavers of the terrace. He’d seduce Lady Phoebe into loving him. His lips lingered on hers, unwilling to give her up.

She opened her eyes and searched his face. “Of course, what I was going to say was I haven’t wanted to kiss anyone else.”

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Eight Sentence Sunday

Good morning and welcome to Eight Sentence Sunday. Today I continue with The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh, the second book in The Marriage Game which releases for pre-order next month! There was a problem with the link Sunday before last, so here is the part some of you may have missed.

“What do you think that other man wants?” Lizzy asked.

“I don’t know.” Anna shook her head. “But I have a feeling whatever it is will do us no good. I’m going to Mamma and try to talk her around. I do wish she and Papa could settle their differences.”

Lizzy nodded. “It does make things a bit more difficult.”

Also don’t forget to stop by the other wonderful and talented authors participating in Weekend Warriors Eight Sentence Sunday. http://www.wewriwa.com/

Here is the snippet for this week.

“That it does,” Anna said, smiling grimly.

A few minutes later, she knocked briefly on the door to the morning room in the back of the house, and tripped in only to stop. The gentleman sitting on a chair next to her mother’s chaise rose. Anna curtseyed.

Sebastian, Baron Rutherford, bowed. Anna fought the urge to smile. He was tall and rangy. The cut of his coat molded to his broad shoulders, and his pantaloons clung to his muscular legs.

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Debut Historical Author Amara Royce

Victorian Author Amara Royce

Please help me welcome debut historical and fellow Kensington author, Amara Royce. Amara will give away a copy of her newly released novel, Never Too Late, to one lucky commenter who leaves their email address.

Amara: Thank you for having me on your blog, Ella! You’re wonderfully supportive of other writers, and it’s an honor to be here!

Ella: My pleasure, Amara. First tell us a little about you, and how you began writing.

Amara: It took a long time for me to garner up the courage to even try writing fiction. As an English professor, I’ve spent so much time and attention on literary fiction and other Lit-er-ah-ture that I didn’t think I could ever write anything *that good* so it was pointless to even try . It wasn’t until a friend recommended I read Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series that I was able to throw caution to the wind and start writing just for the joy of doing it.  I love that Gabaldon started Outlander as a “what if,” as a learning experience, just to see if she could write a novel. And you can see some of that adventurous, exploratory perspective in the first novel of the series…for heaven’s sake, the Loch Ness Monster makes an appearance!  For me, her books are kind of like alchemy—doing so much at once, bringing history to life, exploring complex psychological and emotional experiences, and always challenging as well as entertaining readers—it’s a special kind of magic. Many books and thousands upon thousands of pages later, I think she continues to be an inspiration for writers to take risks and just write.  And so I do.

Ella: This is such a favorite topic that I have to ask it. Can you tell us about your road to publication? What happened when you got the call for your agent and then your contract?

Amara: Well, my calls came in reverse! I started querying agents in June of 2012, and I had some encouraging responses and requests for material. Still, I’ll admit I got impatient…so I decided to try querying a few publishers that don’t require agented submissions.  Imagine my shock when I got the call from my now-editor, John Scognamiglio at Kensington!  With that two-book contract offer in hand, I quickly updated agents who’d requested material…which led me to my wonderful agent, Jessica Alvarez of BookEnds!  It’s been quite an amazing and unbelievable year, and my head is still spinning.

Ella:  How exciting!! What has been the most challenging or most difficult part of becoming a published author?

Amara: Aside from the usual challenges of the writing itself, I would have to what’s most challenging for me is the element of self-promotion. Honestly, I’m a very private person who doesn’t like being the center of attention.  In today’s publishing industry, however, it seems important for authors to establish and maintain a public presence, especially using social media.  I’ve heard great advice that writers should stick with what they’re comfortable with—if you don’t enjoy blogging or Facebook or Twitter, don’t do that thing. It’s not that I don’t enjoy them; I do! But I definitely find it challenging to promote myself and my work in ways that are comfortable for me.

Ella: What drew you to historicals and to the Victorian era specifically?

Amara:  I’m a great fan of historical fiction in general and historical romance in specific. My academic/professional background is in 19^th century literature, and I’ve been a fan of Victorian literature since college. So writing historical romance set in the Victorian era seems like a natural fit. There’s so much about the Victorian era that’s fascinating…it’s sort of the gateway to the modern world we know. Technology, industry, political equality, gender equality—so much of what we see as a normal, inherent part of our lives took a foothold in the Victorian era: white wedding dresses, mass-produced photographs, mass-produced books and magazines, heck, “mass-produced” anything. Also, there are also some fascinating long-held misconceptions (and contradictions) about the Victorians; for instance, we commonly associate “Victorian” with “prudish” and yet pornography flourished in the period.  Writing about the Victorian era enables me not just to explore and highlight these changes and ideas but also to see how they still reverberate in our lives today.  And I get to do that while writing happily ever afters!

Now without further to do, here is the blurb for Never Too Late, followed by an excerpt.

Blurb:

Honoria Duchamp is well aware that men often consider widows easy prey for the role of mistress. What else could explain the attentions of handsome Lord Devin, and his visits to her bookshop? The much younger Viscount has even shown interest in the printing press with which she creates pamphlets on London’s basest injustices. Yet his chief interest appears to be in her…

Coerced to investigate Nora’s controversial pamphlets, Devin expected to find a bookish matron. Instead, he is taken with Nora’s womanly beauty, sharp intellect, and quick wit. Soon, what begins as an unwelcome task becomes a pleasure, and Devin’s job becomes more dangerous—for them both. For Nora has no idea of the vicious element she’s crossed. Now Devin will risk his reputation to protect her—and much more to win her love…

Excerpt:

“These clothes are suffocating me,” she replied. She slipped onto the bed against him and heard his sharp intake of breath when her bare skin slid along his hand.

“You promised you wouldn’t tempt me.” She heard bewildered amusement in his voice.

“I know, but it seems my inhibitions have run away from me.” She pulled his mouth to hers firmly. She kissed him, fully, without reservation, opening her mouth to him and tasting his lips. He pulled his head away, but she moved forward to close the distance again. Her body pressed against his, the rough fabric of his clothing sending little jolts along her skin. Here in the darkness, all the heightened emotions of the day concentrated into this whirlwind of sensations. Just for this moment, she wanted to drown out all her cares, silence her mind’s accounting and planning, and simply feel.

He gently broke contact with her lips. As he put his hands on her bare shoulders, she felt the groan he tried to suppress. He held her at a distance.

“Nora, we cannot do this. You have been through an extremely taxing experience. You do not know what you are doing.”

“On the contrary, Alex.” She punctuated her words with kisses wherever her lips could reach. “I know exactly what I’m doing.  Anything I need, you said. Right now, this is what I need. I need to be in your arms. I need to feel your lips on me. I need you.”

 

Buy links:

Kensington: http://ekensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/22517

Amazon (Kindle): http://www.amazon.com/Never-Too-Late-ebook/dp/B00B3YDF1S/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367376988&sr=8-1&keywords=9781601831170

Barnes & Noble (Nook): http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/never-too-late-amara-royce/1114307512?ean=9781601831170

Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Never-Too-Late/book-2o69sxyGkEeJGHhzLA_nYw/page1.html?s=hTP0xzruE0arSv3TD3kgDQ&r=1

 

Bio:

Amara Royce writes historical romances that combine her passion for 19th-century literature and history with her addiction to happily ever afters. She earned a PhD in English, specializing in 19th-century British literature, from Lehigh University and a Master’s degree in English from Villanova University, and she now teaches English literature and composition at a community college in Pennsylvania. When she isn’t writing, she’s either grading papers or reveling in her own happily ever after with her remarkably patient family.

 

 

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Post an Excerpt, Any Excerpt

Post an Excerpt, Any Excerpt. Ok, back to normal for a month. This is your chance to shine, so post any excerpt of no more than 500 words, and, if you have them, your buy links. Don’t have buy links, post your website, blog, Twitter and Facebook info.

Here is mine from my debut novel, The Seduction of Lady Phoebe.

 Marcus arrived at Cranbourne Place late on the day of the fight. As he jumped down from his curricle, Amabel, his sister, appeared at the door, clearly delighted to see him. She was as fair as he was dark.

She wore a gauzy white day gown that seemed to float around her as she gracefully descended the stairs of the portico and held out her hands in greeting. They’d exchanged letters and portraits over the years, but the last time he’d seen her she’d still been in the schoolroom and wore braids down her back.

“Marcus, do please come in. I am so glad you are here. How have you been? You are not too tired, are you? Do you wish to rest? But no, you have too much energy. You must tell me everything.”

He chuckled. “What a goosecap you are, Amabel. I suppose I can’t muss your hair now that you wear it in such a fashionable style. I’ll tell you everything as soon as you give me a cup of tea, and we may be comfortable.”

She tucked her arm in his and led him into the house. A large man stood in the entrance. Geoffrey, Earl of Cranbourne, his brother-in-law, was easily as tall as Marcus, in his mid-thirties, and dressed for the country in buckskin breeches, and a loose shirt, waistcoat and hunting jacket.

From under lowered brows, the earl gave Marcus a hard look. “Lord Marcus, welcome. I am pleased to finally meet you. You may come with me, sir. We need to discuss the reason my sister found it necessary to leave her home rather than meet you.”

Avaliable for pre-order on the following sites:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/10kE1aI

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/175Kkho

Amazon Germany: http://amzn.to/XIAMG3

B&N: http://bit.ly/XIAT4A

Kensington: http://bit.ly/Z5XEAi

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Spotlight on Bronwen Evans

Regency Author Bronwen Evans

My guest today is multi-published, award-winning, Regency author Bronwen Evans. Bronwen lives in New Zeeland, and will stop by when she wakes up to answer any of your questions. We’d planned to have a regular interview, but were defeated by technology and time zones, so please do ask questions. Bronwen will also give away a copy of her latest book to one lucky commenter who leaves their email address.

Bronwen has had lots of news lately.

Invitation to Ruin by Bronwen Evans

Her debut Regency historical, Invitation to Ruin, WON the RomCon 2012 Readers Crown Best Historical

Invitation to Scandal by Bronwen Evans

Her novel Invitation to Scandal has been nominated by The Romance Review Book of the Year Best Historical.

She has just signed a contract with Random House’s Loveswept line for a new series called The Disgraced Lords. Her first book in that series, sorry no cover yet, is A Kiss of Lies which will release in January 2014.

Invitation to Passion by Bronwen Evans

And the best news, Bronwen has a new book, Invitation to Passion releasing in May.

Here is the blurb.

Consummate rake, Richard Craven, has his heartbroken when the woman he loves is forced into an arranged marriage to a violent brute. To make matters worse, circumstances force him to marry Madeline Knight—a woman he views more like a sister-only for fate to play the cruellest of tricks. Shortly after his wedding his former lover is widowed, and Richard learns she could be pregnant with his child.

Madeline Knight thought she was doing the right thing when she saved Richard Craven from his lover’s irate husband. Now her silly schoolgirl crush has left her married to a man who’s in love with another woman. Consumed with guilt over trapping Richard, she tries her best to be the perfect wife and win his heart. Failure is not an option. For if she fails she loses everything, she loves him too much not to set him free…

While Richard and Madeline confront the reality of their marriage, Madeline’s life comes under threat. A family enemy is set on revenge. Will Richard learn the truth of his heart, and what is truly precious to him, before the unknown enemy destroys their world?

To tempt you even further, I’ve added an excerpt.

Chapter One – London, April 1810

Richard James Craven was a dead man. That’s if Charles Hawthorne, the Marquis of Wrentham, found him. Maddy watched the Marquis as he stood at the top of the stairs, surveying the guests in the crowded ballroom below. His presence here at Hascombe Court meant only one thing. He’d come for his wife.

A curse on Richard’s head. Just last week Maddy had begged him to end his affair with the Marquis’s wife. Now she would have to get involved. She hated getting involved. Richard had looked after her welfare for years and she felt obligated to return the favour.

Madeline Knight you are such a liar. She wanted to return the favour.

Maddy blew a curl out of her eyes, and peered through the plants sheltering her from the eyes of the ton. She’d been hiding most of the evening. Rufus had organised this ball for her. She loved her brother, but he’d recently married his one true love, Rheda, and was determined to help his younger sister find the same happiness.

Unfortunately, Madeline’s idea of a suitable husband differed vastly from his. She did not wish to marry into the echelons of Society. Due to her father’s rumoured treason, she’d grown up in seclusion, here at their country estate near Newmarket.

Even though she was the sister of a wealthy Viscount, correction, now Earl, due to the scandal surrounding the Strathmores, she had expected to marry beneath her social standing. A local squire or vicar. She felt perfectly capable of settling into the quiet country life. The strictures and sophistication of the ton frightened her to death.

Besides, at nineteen, she had plenty of time to choose a husband. Now that her brother resided permanently at home, she did not wish to leave his household any time soon.

With growing unease, Maddy watched Lord Wrentham scan the ballroom, then begin to make his way across the crowded floor. Luckily the room was packed. With Rufus succeeding in clearing their late father of treason, and her brother having a second title bestowed on him, Earl of Hascombe, the ton’s interest had been caught. Tonight it seemed all London Society were in attendance.

Her eyes followed the Marquis’s path through the guests. Lord Wrentham was definitely looking for someone, and she was sure it was his beautiful wife, Sara. It was up to Maddy to warn the lovers.

She straightened her shoulders and stepped out into the crush. The music drowned out her determined stride. She circled round until she was able to locate her brother.

“Lord Wrentham has arrived. You should go and greet him. Now would be the perfect opportunity to put the past behind you. He carries at lot of influence in the House of Lords. Lord Wrentham would be a valuable ally.” Not really a lie. Rufus had taken a special interest in the rights of workers, his wife’s influence, and he was chasing the Marquis’s vote on labor law reform.

Her brother kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Don’t think you can distract me by mentioning politics.”

Maddy’s heart stilled. Rufus had no idea that Richard was continuing his affair with Lady Wrentham. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’ve seen you hiding behind the plants. I would have made you stand centre stage, but Rheda told me to leave you alone.”

All the while her brother talked, Maddy guided him ever closer to Wrentham.

“Your wife is, as always, a gem. What is this rush to get me to the altar? I’ve only just got you back in my life. Now you are married, don’t you want me here?” She couldn’t disguise the hurt in her voice. Her brother’s determination to see her quickly wed made her feel as if she was a nuisance, or in his way.

Rufus halted and oblivious to their guests he pulled her close. “Is that what you think?” He hugged her tight. “Never for one moment think I want you to leave my house. If I could, I’d hold onto you forever, but that would be selfish. I just don’t like seeing you stuck here in the country, on your own, like Rheda was. You deserve more.”

The relief flooded through her. She lightly cuffed his shoulder. “I do not intend to marry any time soon, so stop pushing me.” Before Rufus could argue, she added, “There’s Lord Wrentham. Go and bore him with your talk. You can lecture me tomorrow at breakfast.”

She abruptly turned and schooled herself to walk away slowly, and in the opposite direction to the library, where she assumed Richard had taken Sara.

Richard knew every square inch of this house intimately. Over the years he’d spent many nights under this roof. Many nights teasing her. Teaching her. Talking to her.

Blast it all. She’d have to go and warn Richard. Richard was her only true friend, she didn’t wish to see him killed in a duel, or sent fleeing from England for having killed Lord Wrentham.

Once out of sight of the guests, she lifted the hem of her dress and rushed toward the library. Skidding to a halt outside the door, her courage momentarily fled. What would she observe when she opened this door? Was she prepared to see her Richard in the arms of another?

Her Richard! She acknowledged her claim was a monumental fantasy. Richard was her friend. That was all. He still saw her as the thirteen year old girl he’d rescued from the Hawthorne bullies.

Just a friend, she silently scolded herself. Yet Maddy didn’t understand the riotous feelings she’d developed over the last twelve months. Whenever she looked at Richard, her heart beat harder, her stomach knotted, and her body warmed in certain places she was embarrassed to discuss.

A stab of jealousy hit her chest. Madeline secretly hoped Richard was doing nothing more than talking with Lady Wrentham. She knew Richard and his rakish ways, and realised that was unlikely. But a girl could dream.

She dreamed of Richard a lot lately.

About Bronwen Evans:

Bronwen loves story-telling – gobbling up movies, reading books and attending the theatre. Her head is always filled with characters and stories, particularly lovers in angst. Is it any wonder she’s a proud romance writer.

Bronwen attended Victoria University, Wellington, New Zealand earning a bachelor’s degree in Commerce and Administration, majoring in Marketing and Accounting. She was all set on building herself a business career (which she did along the way).

But life never turns out exactly as one thinks. After working for a few years in marketing roles within New Zealand financial institutions, she left for a 6 month overseas experience in London, England. She loved England. She spent several years living in London, using it as a base to be able to work and travel from. She visited all four corners of the globe. Her most interesting trips were a camel safari in the Sahara, a trip through Russia, a safari through Africa with her mother, and three months in the Mediterranean.

It was while living and working in London she discovered the offices of Mills & Boon and the germ of an idea to embark on a romance writing career was born.

Almost eight years later, on her return to New Zealand, encouraged by a close friend battling a life threatening illness, Bronwen finally started down the path to publication by joining RWA, The Beau Monde, RWAustralia and RWNZ.

Please get to know Bronwen better though her website. www.bronwenevans.com and Facebook https://www.facebook.com/bronwenevansauthor

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