In The Arms of An Earl second chance!

I am excited to announce that my first Regency historical romance, In The Arms of An Earl, is an Amazon "Encore" release!  They picked 100 romance novels out of 1,000s of The Wild Rose Press's catalog. It is being offered for free to Kindle Select readers for a set time frame. As of this writing, the Amazon ranking went from the high 700ks to about 39k! Thank you to everyone who read my book the first time it came out, and for those of you willing to give it a try now.

I got the idea for this story from my longtime favorite character, Mary Bennet of Pride and Prejudice. Specifically, from the actress, Talulah Riley (pictured on the right), who played Mary in the Focus Features film a decade ago. I was thinking of writing a spin-off P&P series of the younger Bennet sisters, Kitty and Mary. I couldn't think of how to make Mary a romantic heroine until I saw a photo of the actress who played Mary in the film. Seeing how lovely Talulah is in real life made me think that this is what our plain little Mary would look like if she were in love and cared for by a wonderful man.

Enter composer and hand amputee, Frederick Blakeney. This hero is probably the closest to my ideal man whom I've ever written. Tall, dark and handsome, with a musical genius cut short by a wound suffered in the war, Frederick is considerate, passionate, and ready and willing to sweep our plain little spinster off her feet and into the glittering world of London. Mary can hardly believe that her idol loves her as much as she loves him, and because of her own insecurities and being overshadowed by two newly married beautiful sisters, the plot of the book came quite easily.

But my heroine is named Jane, you may argue. What's all this about Mary? The original title of In the Arms of An Earl was MISS BENNET IN LOVE. I couldn't find a publisher willing to take on a story about Mary, so the new title and certain elements of P&P remain.

So, if you're like me, and always wanted to see Mary Bennet in her own happily ever after, please feel free to indulge yourself and imagine my heroine, Jane Brooke, is the hapless, hopeless, Mary Bennet. Perhaps you'll be cheering for her and Frederick by the time you reach The End.

Romance on Valentine's Day and Every Day!

People think it must be easy for a romance author to write about something as obvious as Valentine's Day, but I guess it's as difficult for writers as it is for everyone else. I mean, what can I write about the ultimate holiday that celebrates love in all its wonderful forms? So to celebrate this day of hearts and flowers, I've clipped a love scene from one of my current projects to give you a glimpse of love in Regency England! This is a scene between Mary Bennet (the middle sister from Pride and Prejudice) and her fiance, Frederick, who happens to be drop dead gorgeous and an earl, to boot! They're playing the piano together in the middle of the night. It's a piece she wrote about him.

     A log on the hearth collapsed with the muffled sound of rustling autumn leaves. He’d stoked the fire earlier, but it was almost dying. She wondered if she should light a few lamps–perhaps all of them, and some candles, besides, but then decided against it. There was a magical quality in the air, hovering around them. Light would only disturb the moment.

     “This part rather hangs in the end,” he said suddenly, his eyes focused on the page while his fingers continued to work through her notes. She blinked.

     “Does it?”

     He nodded, seemingly unaware of her tumultuous feelings. “Tell me what you saw when you wrote this. In your head, I mean. Is this Everhill?” He played a few chords, and then looked at her expectantly.

     She stifled a laugh. “I do not remember what I saw in my mind. I was just thinking of…” Being lost in your arms, of running my fingers through your hair…She gulped. “It was just you.”

     “Just me?”

     His quiet voice matched the silent darkness all around them. The fire crackled in the hearth, then seemed to go silent, as if the inanimate room waited for her reply.

     “Just you.” Her response had been a throaty whisper. She took a deep breath as if she were preparing to swim across a lake. Her left hand slipped off the keyboard and linked with her right, which remained in her lap.

     She felt one of them should look away first, and quickly. Something was about to happen, and she didn’t know if she should try to stop it, or even how she could.

     His eyes glowed in the dim room, burning flames of their own. He moved closer to her on the bench, taking the last eighth of an inch. Heat emanated from his body until she felt his warmth through her dressing gown and nightgown, and finally, to her bare skin. She hadn’t realized he’d taken her hand until he pressed it to his lips.

     The pressure of his mouth against her palm increased to a defined kiss. This was no repeat of mocking Jeremy’s attempt. Her breath seemed trapped in her lungs, and she arched toward him. He curved her fingers around his cheek, the rasp of his whiskers grazing her skin. She longed to touch him of her own accord, to stroke his silky-looking hair and the straight slope of his nose, but her hand was captive.

     Unable to bear not being in his arms any longer, she slid her free hand up his arm, feeling the muscles contract until she reached his shoulder. He slipped his injured arm around her back and drew her close, releasing her hand in another instant to tilt her chin as his head dipped down.

     She had never anticipated a kiss before, yet instinctively knew what to do. She pressed her hand to his chest, her fingertips inadvertently slipping between his shirt buttons so that she felt his heated bare skin. His breath fanned her cheek with short, quick puffs, and his heartbeat pounded against her palm.

     The tips of their noses touched, and then his head turned slightly. The feather touch of his mouth against hers sparked something deep inside her, and she murmured his name. That action parted her lips, and it was all he needed. His lips were gentle but firm, tasting and teasing her until she kissed him back, her head reeling with the rapid onslaught of sensations his kiss aroused.

Hope that puts everyone in the mood for your own personal love story! May it be filled with hugs and kisses, candy hearts and roses! (And someone else doing the dishes for a change.)

Happy Birthday, Jane Austen! 236 years young!

I hope my readers and fellow authors adore the incomparable Jane as much as I do. Her novels (along with the Bronte sisters' Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre) sparked the romance genre that we all know and love today. If you haven't read Emma or Pride and Prejudice yet, do your heart a favor and start reading! The movies of the books are all wonderful, but my favorite is the Keira Knightley version.

My current "work in progress" is a Pride and Prejudice-based novel, and in honor of Miss Austen as well as begging her pardon, I'm giving you a sneak peek at one of the scenes. Hope you enjoy it!

     She closed her eyes, exhaling on the window so that her breath bounced back into her mouth, as warm as his had been. Confusion swirled through her, igniting all variety of emotion. She’d sensed a connection between them. Somehow, beyond the difference in their ages and stations, not to mention life experiences, she’d felt a kinship. As if she’d known him all her life.

     Nonsensical dreaming was all it was. Girlish fantasy and listening to Lucinda’s romantic nonsense. That was the source behind her confusing thoughts. She suddenly did something she had never done before in her life.

     “Frederick,” she whispered. Her lips relished the shape of his name, the way they parted on the consonants, as if preparing for a kiss. Her tongue pressed the back of her teeth on the d. Her breath misted the glass as she spoke his name, and she stared at it until it evaporated.

     Though she wasn’t the least bit sleepy, she climbed into bed beside Lucinda, pulling the quilt up to her chin. Colonel Parker had offered her a solitary room at the start of her visit, but she, who had always shared a room with her younger sisters, found the large, drafty house a little frightening at night. She scooted close to Lucinda, taking some comfort in her friend’s sleepy warmth.

     Lucinda mumbled in her sleep. The sweet tones of the pianoforte filtered through the closed door and the layers of carpeted floors and walls. It was a variation of his symphony. She wondered if he thought of his former love as he played.

     It was too much to think that a man such as he would ever consider playing for a simple country girl like herself.