Excerpt Thursday: DESCENT by Tiffany Apan

This week, we're pleased to welcome author TIFFANY APAN with her latest novel, DESCENT, book one in the series, Birthrite. Join us again on Sunday for an author interview, with more details about the story behind the story. The author will offer a free digital copy of Descent and Sacred Atonement: A Novelette (The Birthrite Series, #1.5) as a bonus. She can also give away a signed hard copy of the books (Descent and the Sacred Atonement novelette).  Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's post or Sunday's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

Visions of infant twin boys, clouds, a young woman taking her own life, and a collision of space, time, and realms...a

On the eve of Summer Solstice in 1844, four men in different areas of the world share an experience that impacts not only their own lives, but those of the future generations. The first is Nicolae Ganoush, a young Romany fugitive from a slave village in Wallachia. The second is Jonathan Blake, an eighteen-year-old Irishman in the American Midwest who finds himself falling in love with a young woman from a nearby Sioux village. The third is James Livingston, a prominent figure in Colonial America. The fourth is Hector de Fuentes, a sixteen-year-old from Tuxpan, Mexico with special gifts and visions enhanced by a mysterious and wondrous cave. Each man carries his own inner battle, unbelievable ancient truths deep within their lineages, and demons that are much closer to home than any of them would like.

Later in 1931, seventeen-year-old Dorothy Blake, a descendant of Jonathan and his Sioux wife, is living in Plains, New York, the town founded by James Livingston. The notorious Fleming Orphanage has long fallen into disuse but kept by the town as a landmark. The buildings loom high on a hill, overlooking the town, taunting the townsfolk with its lore. On Halloween night, Dorothy ventures up with friends, and the group of six expects nothing more than a good time along with a few laughs. But they fall into a dark, brutal evil; one that extends beyond the orphanage and town of Plains, far back into history. Their descent is only the beginning…

The Birthrite Series is an epic journey into the vast unknown, plunging deep into the dark crevices of the mind, begging the question of what sanity really is and if the insane truly are. Are we really shown the whole truth of what surrounds us or is it an illusion? It also tells of deep-rooted love, planted centuries ago and a story of family, forgiveness, and redemption.

***An Excerpt from DESCENT (THE BIRTHRITE SERIES, #1)***

Nicolae struggled once more at bringing an arm to wake Sebastian as the dark figure closed in. It hovered above the boys with its long, dark cloak billowing about. The young man could feel the visitor's eyes pierce into him, attempting to uncover his every secret from beneath the dark hood masking its identity.

The fog thickened, forming a white curtain around Nicolae's surroundings. He continued his fight to wake his brother while trying to bring the other hand to his dagger, but nausea shot out from his core and spread throughout his body like a plague.

The fog circulated, forming a giant whirlpool. A violent throbbing assaulted Nicolae's temples until his vision darkened. Terrified as he was, the black haze was almost a great relief.

He let out a loud groan and rolled onto his side, bringing a hand to the source of the pain. Then his eyes shot open at the realization of being able to move.

A relieved sigh escaped him as he saw the woods restored to their original darkness. Only a dream...

With his eyes still lowered, he slowly pulled himself to a seated position and pressed his palms to his forehead, trying to coax away the remaining pain. As it slowly evaporated, Nicolae noticed the reddish tint reflecting off the dark skin on his forearms. He frowned, wondering what would cause such a thing.

He lifted his gaze to gauge the source and jumped back upon seeing what hovered over him. In a pitch black starless sky, a giant, blood red moon brushed the tips of the grotesquely twisted, gnarled trees surrounding him. Despite their tangled and uneven appearance, the bare branches appeared unbreakable on the trees of the thickest, black bark. Like many pairs of contorted arms, they seemed to reach toward him.

As Nicolae's eyes adjusted, he turned to where his little brother lay asleep, only to find the space empty.

Sebastian!

He looked to the other side of him and found that his bag was also missing. Frantically, he surveyed the area and rose to standing. He cleared his throat, testing his voice before calling out to his brother.

Nicolae listened, awaiting a reply, but the shallow echo of his voice through the trees was the only response. He took a step forward, hearing the crunch of the barren, rocky soil beneath his boots as he called out again, but the forest remained still.

He tried searching for any indication to his whereabouts.

'Sebastian could be anywhere…' The voice was far away, though clear as a bell.

Oh God, Sebastian, where are you?

“SEBASTIAN!” he screamed, no longer caring if he drew attention to himself.

The trees seemed alive, breathing as they loomed over the young man. In his righthand periphery, he caught movement among a cluster of brush.

Nicolae turned in the direction, narrowing his eyes. “Sebastian?” He took a tentative step forward.

There was no answer, but the shadow moved toward him.

Nicolae maintained his stance, placing a hand on his dagger sheath. The emerging silhouette was too large to be an eleven-year-old boy.

“Who’s there?” Nicolae’s adrenaline rushed (the way it had the night they took Eloisa) as the other presence continued into the clearing.

His eyes widened as he found himself facing the cloaked visitor from moments earlier. The black cape hung just below the shin of high, black leather boots that pulled up over dark pants that were of a heavy wool material. As swordsmen challenging the opponent to a duel, the two individuals fixated on one another.

Learn more about author Tiffany Apan

Official Website (where you can also sign up for my free monthly newsletter): http://tiffanyapan.com

Official Blog: http://tiffanyapanwritingproject.blogspot.com

My new online magazine dedicated to all things historical and paranormtal: http://partingofveilswebzine.blogspot.com

Facebook Artist Page: http://facebook.com/tiffanyapanfanpage

Twitter: http://twitter.com/TIFFANYAPAN

YouTube: http://youtube.com/TiffanyApan

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/tiffanyapan

Authorgraph (where I give digital autographs!):

http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/TIFFANYAPAN

Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/tiffanyapan

As for my books, you can get them at the following retailers:

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/tiffanyapan

Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/tiffanyapan

Barnes & Noble NOOK:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/tiffany-apan?dref=2207&keyword=tiffany+apan&store=NOOKSTORE

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/search?Query=Tiffany+Apan

Author Interview & Book Giveaway: Austin Hernon on THE WARRIORS OF THE CROSS (Book Two-Robert: The Wayward Prince)

This week, we're pleased to welcome again author Austin Hernon with his latest novel, THE WARRIORS OF THE CROSS, book two in the series, Robert: The Wayward Prince.  The author will offer a free copy of book two of Robert: The Wayward Prince to a lucky blog visitor.  Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

Robert, Duke of Normandy, eldest son of William the Conqueror, responds to the clarion call of Pope Urban II to Christendom. In the company of the foremost nobles from Europe he undertakes a mission to liberate Jerusalem in what comes to be known as the First Crusade.

Robert, passionate and idealistic, is inspired by the idea of fighting for God against the heartless infidel – but comes to change his mind as he witnesses the godless behaviour of other Christian lords, some of whom he counted friends.

Over a long arduous journey Robert discovers that the hearts of men, Christian or not, are swayed by lust for blood, land and power. As the physical privations set in, through the deserts of Asia Minor and especially at Antioch, and fear and danger take their toll, he sees avarice and treachery overcome Christian motives and is appalled at the resulting bloody chaos. But like it or not Robert is a leader, and if he hopes to return to the woman he loves in Italy he must bring his military skills to bear to ensure his decimated war-band survives to take Jerusalem.

**Q&A with Austin Hernon**

 

This is the second of your fictional biographies, following the life of Robert Curthose, eldest son of Robert of Normandy. How closely are you following the true history, as we know it?

As closely as I can. The book started off as a project to learn more about Robert, Duke of Normandy and it was his forgotten history that inspired me to put pen to paper. I wondered why someone who I’d barely heard of could still lay claim to such a magnificent tomb in Gloucester Cathedral, and once I learnt who he was I needed to find out more about what he did, why he never came to the English throne and why the Conqueror’s other sons practically wrote Robert, the first-born, out of history. It’s been a fascinating journey. I’ve discovered a lot about Robert that biographers and chroniclers haven’t spotted – or at least I’ve discovered the possibilities of these endeavours and events. Robert’s leadership skills in the First Crusade is understated in the chronicles but I started digging, and found out more and more about how impressive he was; courageous and crafty in equal measure. He also, it seems to me, was ultimately a truthful man, without any side to him, as we’d say today; no ulterior motives. This might have been his undoing in terms of his personal ambitions as he could never quite grasp, until it was overwhelmingly evident, that other men might not be the same. Yet in the First Crusade, as far as I can tell, he didn’t succumb to the bloodlust nor the power-lust that gripped the other Christian leaders. Robert The Wayward Prince remains a work of fiction, and truth will always bend a knee to plot and pace in a novel, but the book’s raison d’être was to find out more about this intriguing man and get a glimpse into a fascinating historical period through his eyes, and that’s what I hope I’ve achieved.

 

Was writing this second book very different from the first?

 

Yes, very. I was finding my feet as a writer much more with the first book and that took a long time. Originally the first book was written in third person rather than first, and it was only when I tried first person – at the suggestion of editorial consultancy Fiction Feedback  – that I found my way. The writing, and Robert, came alive. By the time it came to the second book I understood much more what was involved, in terms of research, planning, the actual writing and the editing process. It was much more straightforward as a result, and I think a better book. I was able to do more justice to Robert and these calamitous events in his life because I had developed my novel-writing skills.

The Warriors of the Cross tackles some very pertinent themes, with Christian and Moslem cultures clashing in the Middle East. Did you have present situations in mind when writing the book?

No, not at all. I simply set out to tell Robert’s story, and it is sad coincidence that what was international headline news almost a thousand years ago is so again. But naturally enough, as I was researching and planning Robert’s story with all its incidents in modern-day Turkey, Syria, Lebanon and Israel, I couldn’t help but notice and draw parallels with then and now. I hope they don’t increase.

I think that seeing the world through medieval eyes has given me an extra perspective on contemporary crises and troubles. But I can’t help but draw the lesson that the lesson of history is that we never learn, as has been said before by people wiser than me. People are people, and human nature doesn’t change very much, so it’s not so surprising that history should repeat itself. And I have no time for people who blame religion itself for these wars. Followers of Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, whatever: it’s the practitioners of religions who bring about such crises, not the religions themselves who often preach peace and love, tolerance and forgiveness.

Some aspects of the First Crusade are quite gory. Here and there you give full rein to your descriptive powers in showing us scenes of deadly combat and carnage. Did you find this at all difficult?

 

No, not particularly. I kept it within the limits of what I felt comfortable with. I don’t like reading pages and pages of graphic violence in fiction or non-fiction so I only introduced a paragraph here and there when not to do so would give a false impression of events, or inadequately explain people’s reactions to what was going on.

 

Violence and bloody death was much more a part of everyday life in 1095 for many more sections of society: for nobles, churchmen and politicians as well as the rank and file. It can’t remain undescribed, but to ascribe too much space to it would I think have the opposite effect of naturalism, as it would elevate it to a significance that it wouldn’t have had then. But of course, when you have a character battling to the death with fearful foes all round, or losing a close friend in warfare, or even hearing about atrocities committed elsewhere, you have to do such things justice in the writing or the characters and the story itself would be insipid and unreal.

 

There are also several scenes of a romantic or sexual  nature in your book. What do you say to those who might gripe that they have no place in the story of a hard-bitten soldier?

Robert was a heterosexual man like any other and my novels don’t pretend to be military histories. They’re about a man and his full life. Robert liked the ladies and they liked him: again it would seem unrealistic not to include some scenes of sex and love. Leaving them out wouldn’t do his story justice!

The book ends on quite a cliffhanger about events back in England. What next for Robert, Duke of Normandy?

That’s the job of the third book to tell. It should be published later this next year – meanwhile there’s a lot of juicy gossip and historical fact on my website at www.waywardprinceproductions.co.uk

 
 

 

Learn more about author Austin Hernon

Excerpt Thursday: THE WARRIORS OF THE CROSS (Book Two-Robert: The Wayward Prince) by Austin Hernon

This week, we're pleased to welcome again author Austin Hernon with his latest novel, THE WARRIORS OF THE CROSS, book two in the series, Robert: The Wayward Prince. Join us again on Sunday for an author interview, with more details about the story behind the story. The author will offer a free copy of book two of Robert: The Wayward Prince to a lucky blog visitor.  Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's post or Sunday's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

Robert, Duke of Normandy, eldest son of William the Conqueror, responds to the clarion call of Pope Urban II to Christendom. In the company of the foremost nobles from Europe he undertakes a mission to liberate Jerusalem in what comes to be known as the First Crusade.

Robert, passionate and idealistic, is inspired by the idea of fighting for God against the heartless infidel – but comes to change his mind as he witnesses the godless behaviour of other Christian lords, some of whom he counted friends.

Over a long arduous journey Robert discovers that the hearts of men, Christian or not, are swayed by lust for blood, land and power. As the physical privations set in, through the deserts of Asia Minor and especially at Antioch, and fear and danger take their toll, he sees avarice and treachery overcome Christian motives and is appalled at the resulting bloody chaos. But like it or not Robert is a leader, and if he hopes to return to the woman he loves in Italy he must bring his military skills to bear to ensure his decimated war-band survives to take Jerusalem.

**An Excerpt from The Warriors of the Cross

(Book Two-Robert: The Wayward Prince)**

Robert is re-acquainted with Matilda, la Gran Contesse, in Lucca, Italy, on his way to Jerusalem.

Chapter 2: An Italian Winter

At the reception.

That evening, suitably cleansed, we attended Urban’s court. He was surrounding himself with the mighty of northern Europe, who, coming to give muscle to the holy cause, did not entirely believe in his positioning as the leader of this venture. He might have the words to move people’s hearts, but this was now a military matter, prayers having failed so far to release the holy city of Jerusalem. Nevertheless we attended in good spirit being quite certain of our impending success in the matter.

            Stephen of Blois, Robert of Flanders, Duke Allen of Brittany and me: together we were all dressed in our finest. Odo and Gilbert had also dug out some suitable vestments from their baggage and we made an impressive entrance to the cathedral where Urban was due to lead us in prayers.

            At the front, only partially visible through the fug of incense, and suitably shielded by her close attendants, Matilda was sitting in demure majesty, ensuring that none would mistake the fact that here sat the chiefest woman in all of Europe. I made no attempt to approach her, what secrets we held would remain between us.

            When the prayers were over, Urban made full use of the opportunity to deliver yet another tedious homily, in praise, it seemed, of his idea of bringing all these magnificent warriors here to one place in order to fulfil his heavenly vision. In the end the message lingered too long and went a little astray, so that the congregation were pleased to hear the amen and were ready to leave but there was another little ceremony before that release came.

            A priest came to speak to Odo, who after a word turned to me and asked, ‘Where is your papal banner, Robert?’

            I looked at Ragenaus and he nodded his head towards the door.

            ‘Will you fetch it for me, please, Ragenaus.’

            He went off and I turned to Uncle Odo.

            ‘There is to be a blessing of emblems and the prince of France will also receive a banner of St Peter like yours,’ explained the bishop.

            ‘What prince of France?’ I queried.

            ‘That colourful youth sitting at the front, that is Hugh of Vermandois, brother to King Phillip.’

            As I peered through the fog of incense to try and see this royal brat Ragenaus returned and thrust the lance with the banner into my hand and Odo pushed me towards the front, where the pope was wai

            I approached, and Hugh turned to give me a glance before he knelt. He was well above me in height and I might have detected a little in-built sneer upon his lips. Snotty little git. I knelt alongside him and the pope uttered another well-rehearsed homily as our banners were  drenched by a pair of over-enthusiastic priests. My head received a share of the holy water and I grinned at Hugh as we stood up; he smiled a little and seemed less haughty. We might get on, if he behaves himself.

            ‘Are you Robert of Normandy?’ he asked politely.

            ‘I am,’ I replied. He hesitated as if awaiting some kind of accolade, then introduced himself.

            ‘I am Hugh, Prince of France.’

            ‘Then, Hugh, we have a common purpose in coming here. We may meet again.’

            ‘D’accord,’ he said as I spied Matilda looking at me from her front seat, a definite smirk playing around her lips. I threw my gaze to the heavens and walked back to Odo, my mind on things other than the blessing of banner

            The principal guests were escorted to a grand chamber where the atmosphere became a little less formal and we were able to circulate freely.

            Among the movers was Matilda. She gradually drifted in my direction so that after a while we were able to engage in a conversation, of suitably public content, in public.

            ‘Contessa Matilda,’ I bowed and almost made a meal of her proffered hand, ‘we must thank you for the arrangements you have made to receive us. Here are those who would help us in our quest. Stephen of Blois, my brother-in-law. Robert of Flanders, my cousin, and my former brother-in-law, Allen, Duke of Brittany.’

            ‘Thank you, Prince Robert, quite a family affair I see. It is the least that I can do when you have travelled so far in our holy cause.’ She turned to Stephen and Flanders, neither of whom could resist a modicum of flirting when the opportunity presented itself. ‘My lords! Have you found your quarters to your satisfaction?’

            Stephen and Robert fell over themselves to claim the hand of this regal power broker. Diminutive, her hair now a fading russet blond, but her eyes still a piercing blue, she commanded the space about her in a way that few men could manage. Matilda could charm and flirt with the best of them – and proceeded to do so. I watched a while in some amusement as the trio did their best to outshine each other in courtly manners.

            Looking about the hall I noted that Odo had cornered Urban, oh well – he has bored us for long enough tonight, I expect that Odo will return the favour. Then I spotted Payne and Ragenaus standing against a wall, appearing bored.          

‘What?’ I mouthed. Payne cupped his hands under his chest and lifted up non-existent breasts, casting his eyes to the ceiling. Of course, the hall was bereft of women; only we had the privilege of Matilda. I thought to enquire.

‘You seem to be the lone ambassadress for women tonight, my lady,’ I said, nodding towards my young men. ‘Are there no ladies for my young dogs to talk to?’

            Matilda, sharp as a blade, took in the situation at a glance and beckoned over one of her attendants. ‘Take those two down to the festival in the marketplace, and keep them safe.’

            ‘Sì, Contessa, they will enjoy la musica, no?’

            ‘Sì, and anything else they can lay their eyes on.’ She grinned at me and lifted an eyebrow.

            ‘That big one will be very popular, I believe.’

            ‘Mm, that is Payne Peverel. He comes from the hills of northern England, so not the same as my Saxon archer you’ll remember.’

            ‘No, but interesting all the same.’ Capricious Matild

Suddenly I became irritated by my unctuous comrades’ efforts to impress the lady and I turned the subject of the conversation to more pressing matters.

‘What news do you have you for us, Contessa? Has my friend Bohemund reached Constantinople yet?’

‘I’ve not yet heard, Robert. But no doubt he’ll be in the company of Emperor Alexios soon.’

‘Huh! That will be an interesting meeting; they were at war with each other not so long ago.’

‘True, and who says that they will not resume their squabbling after the holy city has been recovered? There is more to tell. Raymond of Saint-Gilles is marching his French army across northern Italy towards Hungary. Duke Godfrey of Bouillon is leading a large formation of his own troops from Flanders and Lorraine. Some German soldiers have joined him, and I believe that he favours the same overland route.’

My brother-in-law replied, ‘He commands great respect in the north, and has lots of money. It seems that we will be well supported, my lady.’

‘Yes, Count,’ she responded, a little awkwardly as the points of his perfect beard threatened her very eyes. She moved back a little from his too close attentions and replied politely. ‘The Lord has provided; we are blessed in our endeavours.’

‘And our horses.’ I remembered that small point. ‘What of Aethilheard; you remembered him from our previous visit?’

‘Ah, yes!’ responded the Contessa with a light in her eyes, ‘and the Saxon prince, Edgar, sent by your father as our wedding guest. Are they all like that in England? I must pay a visit.’

‘My lady,’ I replied, ‘the land is full of blond-haired, blue-eyed warriors with moustaches. You liked the Saxon?’

‘I did, he was amusing, Robert. He idolises you.’

‘He does? I suppose so. You know how much I trust him?’

‘He was carrying quite a lot of your money. Anyway, Aethilheard has gone with some fine horses to Constantinople; I made some good deals and your blond friend has some spare monies in his purse.’

‘Thank you. We will need it, I expect, before this matter is done with. You said some.’

‘Yes, we have a limited supply of steeds suited to the North African climate, I am arranging for more to be taken to Cyprus. They will be kept there in readiness for you; and I am helping you with the costs, to include placing some Genoese ships at your disposal.’

‘You honour me, gracious lady.

It was difficult to keep my hands off her… and she knew it, laughing silently in her eyes. I hoped that her under-linen was as wet as mine.

‘Not so, Prince Robert, we both honour God in this matter, and trust in his blessing.'

 

I nodded, and dribbled, and she went to engage in conversation elsewhere. I caught Stephen studying my face and he made to speak, but I gave him a warning glance, so he swallowed his words and kept silent. There would be no rumours to trouble the lady’s reputation, not if I had anything to do with it, but I could not stop Allen, who was not so well informed as to the purpose of my previous visit.

‘What wedding, Robert? Have I missed something?’

I pondered for a moment.

Stephen said, ‘You might as well tell him, everyone else knows.’

‘Tell me what?’ the irritated Breton asked.

‘My father had marriage plans for me and Matilda. We decided otherwise.’

‘Jesu, Robert. You mean you and she have never…’

‘No, Allen, by God’s bollocks, we have never…’

‘Mon Dieu!’ chortled Flanders, with a snort of derision, ‘you are all over each other like panting dogs.’

‘Piss off, Rob, someone will hear you.’

But they would not leave the subject and Allen tried again.

‘King William sent you to marry the Contessa, and you returned to Normandy bride-less?’

‘I heard that he was not pleased, Robert,’ said Stephen.

‘By God he was not likely to be. What did he say?’ probed Allen.

‘Quite a lot,’ I mumbled.

‘Yes indeed, Robert, you went off somewhere just after your return, I remember it being a cause for discussion with your sister,’ Stephen added, being helpful.

‘Why wouldn’t she marry you?’ Allen persisted.

I pulled them close, and in a whisper told them.

‘Matilda has Normans to the south, Germans to the north, and a reputation to keep inviolate with the Church. Marrying me would not be helpful.’

‘God’s bollocks,’ exclaimed Allen, ‘a Norman domain stretching to the Alps? The Germans would not like that.’

‘Mon Dieu,’ added Rob, ‘she cannot have men clambering into her bed; the Church is strange about such things. No wonder she will not marry.’

‘God’s miracles, you are too loud, someone might overhear us,’ I whispered in frustration.

‘It will only be a blind man, my prince, everyone else can see how you are with her for themselves.’ Stephen was trying to calm me.

‘Oh, please don’t make it worse,’ I pleaded.

The trio looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders in unison, and chimed in unison.

 ‘We see nothing, Mighty Prince.’

‘Bollocks, you lot. I’m going to rescue the pope from Uncle Odo.’

‘Before you go, Robert,’ the solid figure of the Duke of Brittany placed itself in my path, ‘tell me something. Did your father withhold the crown of the English from you because of this?’

I looked him in the eye. A bit rough was Allen, but sharp.

‘It did not help… that’s all I know.’ I left to find Odo, and in truth, that was all I knew.

After a few days, when the great and good had finished with their intelligence-gathering, bargaining, wheeling and dealing – and attempts at flirtation – we set off for Rome in three parties. Firstly the pope and his never-ending retinue, skirts and banners flapping in the breeze, followed by Matilda and her troops, armour and standards flying, then I came along behind with my northern cavalcade with my standard and gonfalon held high – and of all that display of pomp only mine were bound for Jerusalem.

Learn more about author Austin Hernon

New & Noteworthy: July 17

Blythe Gifford will be among the authors at the Romance Writers of America’s Literacy Signing, Wednesday, July 22, 5:30-7:30 p.m. at the Marriott Marquis Hotel in New York City. The event will be held in the Westside Ballroom. All proceeds of books sold at the event go to Literacy. (Details here) Blythe has two addition events upcoming in August. She will be teaching an online workshop on “The Soul of the Brand: Finding Your Vein of Gold” via the Kiss of Death Chapter of Romance Writers of America. Information on the class is here. She is also participating in Read a Romance Month and will be posting August 13. For a full list of the 93 authors posting throughout the month, see the Read a Romance Month site.

Author Interview & Book Giveaway: Elisabeth Hobbes on A WAGER FOR THE WIDOW

This week, we're pleased to welcome author ELISABETH HOBBES again with her latest historical romance release, A WAGER FOR THE WIDOW. One lucky visitor will get a free copy of A Wager for the Widow. Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

‘I SUPPOSE A KISS OF GRATITUDE IS OUT OF THE QUESTION?’

Widowed Lady Eleanor Peyton has chosen a life of independence. Living alone on her rocky coastal outcrop, she’s cut herself off from the world of men – until William Rudhale saves her life and demands a kiss!

As steward to Lady Eleanor’s father, Will knows the desire he burns with is futile – but he’ll still wager he can claim Eleanor’s kiss by midwinter! Yet when the tide turns Will realises vulnerable Eleanor is far too precious to gamble with. Can he win his lady before it’s too late?

**Q&A with Elisabeth Hobbes**

A Wager for the Widow is your second book.  Is it linked to your first in any way?

It isn’t linked directly but the idea for Eleanor and Will’s story came from a minor plot element in my first book, Falling for Her Captor.  In that book I wanted to explain why my hero was an outsider, even though he was a nobleman so decided his mother had been a noblewoman who had married a man of a lower social class than herself.  When Harlequin offered me a two-book contract, I remembered that and decided to explore idea.

Can you tell us about Eleanor and Will, the heroine and hero of A Wager for the Widow?

Eleanor’s husband died at their wedding feast three years before the story starts.  The marriage had been for duty and rather than return to her family or remarry she chose to live alone in the house she inherited.  She’s fiercely protective of her independence but also uses it as an excuse to avoid intimacy.  She is determined to ignore her growing attraction to Will who she -quite rightly at first- sees as an overly self-confident chancer.  As well as having to rebuff Will’s advances she has to deal with the pressures from her parents to marry a man from the proper social class and help advance her family’s fortunes. 

Will is Eleanor’s father’s new steward.  After an accident in his youth Will’s face is scarred, and he is determined to prove that he can charm any woman he meets.  If he can make some money in the process that’s all for the better.  Eleanor is the first woman he has encountered who resists which makes him more determined to win her over.  He has risen from a relatively low beginning and has no intention of remaining a steward for the rest of his life so plans to use his winnings to buy into a wine import venture.  As his feelings for Eleanor deepen he is faced with the choice of forfeiting the wager and losing his stake or winning and continuing to deceive the woman he is growing to love.

Do you have a favourite character?

Obviously I love Eleanor and Will, but despite his faults I have a soft spot for Eleanor’s brother, Edmund.  He’s completely self-centred, has very few morals and is happy to wager his sister’s virtue for fun, but despite that he does care for his sister.  I knew Will’s attitude towards women would have to change so was quite happy to have Edmund remain unrepentant as a contrast.  I may use him again and teach him a lesson in a future book.

What attracted you to the time period?

The medieval period had very clearly defined conventions, social structure and strict codes of behaviour.  Eleanor and Will are from different classes so as well as negotiating their own feelings they have to contend with Will not being considered a suitable match for the daughter of a nobleman.

I chose to set the story in the late 13^th century for a couple of reasons.  In the early period a widow was expected to remarry but after the signing of Magna Carta the king could no longer force this.  This meant Eleanor had freedom that women in earlier periods would not have had, though of course her family has other ideas on the matter.

Additionally the late 1290s was a time when England was importing wine from Gascony and fortunes could be made for those able to invest.  On Will’s career path from son of a falconer to steward of a baron’s estate he worked for a vintner who was offering him the opportunity to invest, thus providing the reason for him needing a quick boost to his savings.

What drew you to the setting?

A Wager for the Widow is set in Cornwall which is somewhere I’ve been visiting for years.  Eleanor’s home is based on St Michael’s Mount which is on a spit of land cut off by the tide and only accessible via a causeway revealed twice a day.  I loved the idea of a heroine literally and emotionally cutting herself off from the world who learns to trust and love again.  I also knew there would be plenty of scope for dramatic scenes and from early on planned that the location would play a key part in bringing Eleanor and Will together.

Did you have any actors or actresses in mind for the characters when you were writing?

Eleanor is red haired and I’m a huge Doctor Who fangirl so she’s based a lot on Karen Gillan, with a touch of Nicole Kidman from Moulin Rouge.  I love the model that Harlequin chose for the cover.

Will is based on a mixture of Alexander Skarsgard and Chris Hemsworth, though the latter became more of a model for Will’s rival for Eleanor’s affections, Sir Godfrey.  The hero from my first book was dark and brooding so I wanted a change.  There’s something about the combination of vivid blue eyes and sun blonde hair that is hard to resist.  For my current work in progress I’m back to the dark eyed, dark haired combo and spending far too much time searching for pictures of Aidan Turner.

Do you listen to music to get into the writing mood or do you prefer peace and quiet?

I like to write in peace with as few distractions as possible so no music on while I’m writing.  I have certain songs that I play when I’m trying to figure out plot points or characters in the early part of writing and these become a good way of getting back into the story if I need a little inspiration nudge.  For A Wager for the Widow it was Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen, which is about a man reaching out to the woman he loves.

‘You can hide 'neath your covers
And study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers
Throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a saviour to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero
That's understood
All the redemption I can offer girl
Is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey what else can we do now?’

It’s a great anthem for second chances and taking a risk on romance and sums up Will and Eleanor’s story perfectly for me.  I hope readers will agree.

Learn more about author Elisabeth Hobbes

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