I released my latest Regency historical romance this month. It’s the final story in my Wicked Wager’s trilogy, TO CHALLENGE THE EARL OF CRAVENSWOOD. For those of you who don’t read eBooks, I’m putting all three eBook stories into book format in late December early January 2013. What do you think of
the cover? Isn’t it beautiful?
To celebrate the release of TO CHALLENGE THE EARL OF CRAVENSWOOD, my wonderful helper Kati, has organized a Wicked Wagers Blog Tour for me. The tour runs Monday to Friday for the month of November, and you can WIN copies of all my ebooks and $30 Amazon or B&N giftcard (International)… Simply visit each blog post and follow the instructions…
Today I thought I’d let Amy Shipton, the heroine, tell you a little about TO CHALLENGE THE EARL OF CRAVENSWOOD.
Bron: Welcome to the Brava Authors Blog, Amy
Amy: Good afternoon. Thank you for having me. I’m a bit nervous as I’ve never been interviewed before.
Bron: Relax. It will be fun! Tell us a bit about yourself. What’s Lady Amy Shipton’s life like?
Amy: Well, (licks her lips nervously), I’m twenty-one and the only legitimate daughter of my father the duke, and I have an older brother. I also have several half siblings from the relationship my father has with his mistress. I have obviously never been formally introduced of course. I’m not supposed to mention them but they have a bearing on my story. I pretty much live a life of balls and parties because my father is parading me like a virgin sacrifice to any man with a title and money. He wishes to see me married off as quickly as possible without it causing raised eyebrows and scandal.
Bron: Marry you off—quickly? Are you a bit of a trouble maker then?
Amy: Unfortunately no. I’m the proverbial good girl. My father wants me married so that he can retire to his country estate and move his mistress and other family in. He can’t do that with an unmarried daughter. Sigh, I’m a nuisance he wants swatted aside like a fly.
Bron: Is there a man who interests you? Surely you fancy someone.
Amy: Yes, I do think one gentleman is perfect. He’s an absolute dream. Henry St. Giles, Lord Cravenswood. My next door neighbor. He’s tall, broad shouldered, regal in his posture, with hair the color of dried barley. His eyes sparkle brighter than my emeralds, and his lips, one smile turns my insides to mush. (Sigh). But he’ll have none of me. He still sees me as a young girl.
Bron: I’d do something about that. Make him notice you.
Amy: Easier said than done in my world. I have the eyes of the ton following my every move. I did dance with him at Lady Skye’s ball. I moved scandalously close to him and I think it had the desired effect. But it all went wrong later that night in his garden.
Bron: ohhh- there’s a story here. Please do share…
Amy: (blushing furiously). Needing fresh air after Lady Skye’s ball, I found myself wandering in Henry’s garden at about three in the morning. I never expected to find anyone and I was startled when I came across Henry, lying face down by his fountain. He had a large gash on his forehead and naturally I went to his assistance. The poor man wasn’t quite with it and he… and he… well, read for yourself what happened next…
Amy dropped to her knees next to Henry’s prone body. The sounds of his groans of pain were sweet music; it meant he was at least alive.
She smelled the brandy fumes and noted his hip flask lying discarded nearby. Henry had often seemed worse for drink on his late night ramblings, but when she lift his head to cradle it on her knees she saw the ugly gash on his head. He must have hit the side of the fountain.
She dipped her handkerchief in the water and bathed the gash, wiping the small specks of gravel out of the wound. “Henry,” she scolded softly, tenderly wiping a stray golden lock away from his wound. “What am I to do with you? You can’t let your brother’s death destroy you with sorrow and guilt. Richard would have wanted better for you.”
She gazed spellbound at the beauty of the man she tended. His long lashes were dark crescents smudged over his pale cheeks. His brows, the planes of his face, looked oddly relaxed; his lips, full and beckoning, were gently curved in a child like smile. Her heart expended under an emotion she didn’t wish to face.
She pressed the cloth to his head until the wound stopped bleeding, all the while gently singing to him.
Amy didn’t know how long they’d sat there, but now that the blood no longer flowed, she decided to move and find help. She tried to lever him off of her but Henry groaned deeply and snuggled deeper into her lap, wrapping his arms around her hips, anchoring her to him.
Despite her precarious situation, Amy’s lips lifted at the corner. He was so atrociously handsome, the silky locks of his gold-kissed hair feathered his chiseled cheeks, his long-fingered hands gripped her hips as if he didn’t ever wish to let her go, his long body lay boneless across her lap. She resisted the urge to kiss his wound-just.
What now? Amy looked toward Cravenswood Court. She’d have to summon help to move him. She couldn’t leave him out here with a head injury. She bit her lip and considered the trouble she was in. How would she explain being alone with Henry in his garden—Henry had no idea she often kept him company. All right, she growled under her breath, he had no idea she spied on him. Besides, her reputation would be tarnished and her father might insist on Henry doing the honorable thing. A shudder of delight raced along her nerve endings. That didn’t sound too terrible a fate.
Her smile died as a very large hand suddenly molded her breast and a thumb and finger tweaked her nipple through her clothing. She gasped. Fire danced low in her belly. She should stop him. She closed her eyes and let his hand roam her breasts. His touch was like fire—hot and dangerous. Better than she’d dreamed.
No, it would not be terrible to become his wife.
She heard him mumble and she bent lower to hear his words. His face lifted from her lap and his lips brushed her mouth. He moaned again, the sound was not of a man in pain, more in pleasure. His hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer. His lips teased hers and encouraged her to allow him access. She didn’t even hesitate, but opened for him. He swept into her mouth as if he’d been there before. He tasted of brandy and cheroots, a masculine combination that saw her surrender to the passion his clever tongue provoked.
So caught up in the magic of the kiss, she did not notice his hand expertly freeing one breast from the bodice of her gown until the cooling morning air brushed across her heated skin. She broke from his kiss and sat back on a gasp. He levered himself up and on a deep groan, crawled up her body, gently pushing her down onto the path.
She’d never experienced the weight of a man on top of her. It was thrilling and scary all at the same time. Before she could decide what to do, his mouth found her bare, taut nipple and the hot moistness of his mouth stifled any protest. This time the moan came from her.
She heard a rustle and felt his hand glide seductively under her dress and up her trembling thigh. He stroked her leg while devouring her breast with his mouth and wicked tongue. She let the magic of his love-making consume her. She knew she should protest. She knew Henry would be mortified at what he was doing. He wasn’t in his right mind.
Bron: He’s certainly noticed you all right. So what happened? Why are you actively discouraging Henry’s pursuit of you?
Amy: Here is why. It’s mortifying…
His mouth left hers and trailed a molten path toward her ear. His hand sunk deep into her hair, holding her head at an angle while he nipped at her ear lobe. She struggled for air, panting, urgently seeking some kind of release from the slow building torture of pleasure.
“How I love your responsiveness to my touch, Millicent. Come for me, I’ve missed you so much…”
Amy froze. Pain lanced her chest. How stupid could she have been? Of course he thought she was someone else. Henry never noticed her—not in this way. Why, only last year he’d been more than instrumental in arranging her ‘almost’ engagement to his friend, Marcus Danvers, the Marquis of Wolverstone.
“What’s wrong my love?” He noticed her lack of response because he stilled, his hand leaving her.
Amy was thankful it was dark, but with such a starry night he might not be so drunk that he couldn’t recognize her. Panic took hold. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him sideways with all her might. He rolled off her with a grunt of surprise. Too mortified for words, she pushed clear and jumped to her feet. As she righted her clothing, covering her naked breasts, she barely glanced over her shoulder to ensure Henry would be all right before she raced for the safety of the darkness and her home.
Bron: OMG – he thought you were someone else…
Amy: See? And it gets worse. He has one of my earrings and he’s trying to trace the owner. If he learns it was me he fondled in his garden he’ll offer marriage and my father will make me accept-
Bron: So, he’s very handsome, rich and obviously knows how to—pleasure a woman…
Amy: But he’s in love with this Millicent. How can I possibly marry him knowing that? To be married to a man who loved another- (she’s shudders) it would be like my mother and father all over again. No. I have to stay hidden. I’ll do anything at all to ensure that happens. The first thing to do is get my earring back.
Bron: Good luck with that. You’ll need it. Let us know how it all works out.
Amy: I will. Thanks for lending me your ear. I did need to vent. Now I’m off to a house party at Lord and Lady Wolverstone’s country estate. Henry will be there too. I feel it’s the perfect time to steal back my earring.
Bron: Come back and tell me what happens, I have to know.
If you’d like to learn how Amy got her earring back, leave a comment below and be in to Win an eBook copy of TO CHALLENGE THE EARL OF CRAVENSWOOD Open internationally.
The Wicked Wagers Blog Tour runs Monday to Friday for the whole month, and you can WIN copies of all my books and $30 Amazon or B&N gift card (International)… Simply visit each blog post and follow the instructions…
About Bron:
New Zealander Bronwen Evans grew up loving books. She’s always indulged her love for story-telling, and is constantly gobbling up movies, books and theatre. Her head is filled with characters and stories, particularly lovers in angst. Is it any wonder she’s a proud romance writer?
She writes both historical and contemporary sexy romances for the modern woman who likes intelligent, spirited heroines, and compassionate alpha heroes. Her debut Regency romance, Invitation to Ruin won the RomCon 2012 Readers Crown Best Historical and was an RT Reviewers’ Choice Nominee Best First Historical 2011. To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield was a FINALIST in the Kindle Book Review Indie Romance Book of the Year 2012. Look out for her first Entangled Publishing Indulgence release in late 2012, The Italian Conte’s Reluctant Bride.
Bronwen loves hearing from avid romance readers at romance@bronwenevans.com
You can keep up with Bronwen’s news by visiting her website www.bronwenevans.com
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