Meet My Protagonists...Forced to Wed in RUMORS AT COURT

In RUMORS AT COURT, scheduled for release in May, 2017, I did something I had never done before:  I had a heroine who had been previously married.

While in a romance novel, this created an additional character challenge, (one has to then explain her previous husband and their relationship) it did something more important.  It allowed Valerie of Florham to hope for a life other than that of a wife.  Widows had the potential for a kind of freedom available to no other medieval woman - on her own, without a husband constraining her every move.  (See http://unusualhistoricals.blogspot.com/2016/05/my-characters-lived-in-14th-century.html for my post on this subject.) 

Of course, that was not to be.

My main characters are fictional, but the story includes a number of real historical figures.  The book, the third Royal Wedding Story, is set in England, late in the Fourteenth Century.  The English king’s son has assumed the title of King of Castile, by virtue of his marriage to the previous king’s daughter.  Soon, he plans to seize Castile from the current ruler and establish his own court there.

My hero, Sir Gil Wolford, plans to go with him.  But before they sail, Castile’s “king” insists Gil marry the widow.

A medieval garden, similar to that of my heroine.

Gil is no more eager to wed than Valerie, but for very different reasons.  He has spent his life trying to prove himself worthy, despite his scandalous family background.  Before he marries and sires a son, he wants to sit at the right hand of the King of Castile, in the palace of Alhambra, as far away from his past as possible.

Valerie longs only to be left in peace in the garden she has created on land that her family has held in England for generations.

At this time, England’s earlier success against France in the Hundred Years War has slipped away and the once extensive English holdings on the continent are in danger.  There is unease in the country and rumors abound about the royal family, the intentions of the enemy, and about Valerie and Gil.  Neither is certain who can be trusted, including one another.

Here’s an excerpt from Chapter One, when the two first meet.  Gil, whose company included Lady Valerie’s late husband, has a final commander’s duty to perform.  One he wants completed quickly.

***

When Lady Valerie turned to meet his eyes, for a moment he could not speak.

Now he could see her plain.  Fair skin.  Dark eyes that changed expression when she knew him for who he was.  Was it his family history or his reputation in battle that erased both smile and sadness?  No matter.  Now, he faced a strong, impenetrable shield, through which he could glimpse no emotion at all.  Until then, he would have judged her a woman who needed protection.  Now, he thought she would have been an asset on the battlefield.  “Some have called me that,” he answered, finally.

A silence.  Awkward.  “What do you want of me?” she said, finally.

The time had come.  “Your husband served in my company.” 

She glanced down at the floor.  “I know.”  Had her sadness returned?  Would there be tears?

He hurried to speak.  “Then you know that the siege was broken by that attack.  That his death was not in vain.”

“That is a comfort, surely.”

Her tone suggested otherwise.  “He was a worthy fighter.  His death was a blow.”

Now her gaze met his again.  Her shield had not slipped.  “More so to me.”

Ah, then she blamed him for the man’s death.  She had the right.  “Men die in war, no matter what we do.”  War was not what those at home imagined.  It was not…glorious.

He pulled the stained, crumpled silk from his tunic.  “Your husband was carrying this when he died.  I thought to return it to you so you would know he treasured the thought of his wife.”  He waved it in her direction.  A poor, limp thing, even more wrinkled and dirty now than it had been when he took it from the man’s body.

She did not reach for it.  Instead, she recoiled, as if it were a live thing with teeth. 

He shook his outstretched hand, wishing to free himself of it.  “Do you not want it back?”

“Back?”  The word, barely a whisper.  Then, she lifted that hard, impenetrable gaze and met his eyes again.  “It was never mine.”

***

After many years in public relations, advertising and marketing, Blythe Gifford started writing seriously after a corporate layoff. Ten years and one layoff later, she became an overnight success when she sold her first book to the Harlequin Historical line.  Since then, she has published eleven romances set in England and on the Scottish Borders.  RUMORS AT COURT, a Royal Wedding story, is a May, 2017 release from the Harlequin Historical line.  For more information, visit www.blythegifford.com

Author photo Jennifer Girard. Excerpt © 2017 by Blythe Gifford. Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited.  All rights reserved. ®and T are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and/or its affiliated companies, used under license. Copyright 2017

Guest Blog: Blythe Gifford

Welcome back one of our own, Blythe Gifford, who has been blogging with Unusual Historicals since 2009.  Her new trilogy from the Harlequin Historical line, The Brunson Clan, concludes this month with TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL.  Set on the Scottish Borders during the early Tudor era, it centers on a family of Border Reivers and in this book, Black Rob, oldest and now head of the clan, meets his match:  a woman from the family that is the clan’s blood enemy.

Here's the blurb:

TORMENTED BY HER INNOCENCE

As leader of his clan, Black Rob Brunson has earned every dark syllable of his name. But, having taken hostage his enemy’s daughter in a fierce act of rebellion, he is tormented by feelings of guilt and torn apart with the growing need to protect her—and seduce her!

Stella Storwick feels Rob’s disdain from the first. Then slowly she starts to see behind his eyes to a man in turmoil. Something he has no words for, something that can only be captured in a heart-wrenching kiss....

Lovers from warring clans.  Captor/captive.  Romeo and Juliet.  What’s unusual here?

There are many classic elements to the story.  That’s why people read romance!  But I do write unusual settings and time periods.  The Borders setting, the early Tudor time period, and the incorporation of real historical characters combine to give this story a twist.  Oh, and I talk about catching salmon in 16^th century Scotland!

Salmon fishing in Tudor Scotland?

Did you know that salmon and other “red fish” were highly regulated at that time?  There is documentation over several hundred years of Scottish laws, some forbidding the sale of salmon to England.  These fish were even the subject of some clauses of international treaties!  Yet when I tried to discover how the trade actually worked, even my academic experts didn’t know.  No, this is not a book about the salmon trade.  Fishing enters the story in a much more personal context, but I love discovering these unfamiliar parts of history.  The print here (from a much later period) is of “leistering” salmon, which was going out at night and spearing them by torchlight.

Did you have any special challenges with this book?

I’m basically a pantser, not a plotter.  I rework a book through many drafts and change every time.  Often, I go back to layer in backstory or motivation for something that changed later in the story.  I was worried that I would get to book three and need to change something that was already set in stone in books one or two.  But I had a piece of advice from a fellow writer who said, leave things as open ended as possible.  I did, and it all worked out.

What in particular did you leave open ended?

The hero’s character, for one thing!  Black Rob appeared in the first two books and so had a pretty well developed persona by this time.  I made him the strong, silent type, partly so I wouldn’t back myself into a corner.  When it came time to write his story, I had to discover what lay behind the facade.  He turned out to be a much more interesting character than I had known.

And what about the heroine?

I had briefly introduced her, seen at a distance, in the first book, RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR.  I even had Black Rob keep his attention on her a little too long!  Stella Storwick is one of the more unusual characters I have written.  Something that happened to her as a child makes everyone treat her as special and different.  They give her deference and treat her with awe.  It sounds like an ideal life, until you have to live it.  And I was astounded to discover what she and Rob ultimately had in common.

You’ve got a free bonus starting this week, too, right?

Starting tomorrow, February 25, I’ll have a free, online read available on the Harlequin website (www.harlequin.com)  Wee Mary, one of the secondary characters from CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD, gets her own happy ending in TEMPTED BY THE BORDER CAPTAIN.  The story will be run as a serial, in twenty installments of a couple of pages each day.  This was a writing challenge, but one I enjoyed.  In the shorter length, I write a lighter story than my full-length fiction.  “Fun and flirty,” my editor called it, but she also said “very romantic.”  If you’ve never tried my work, this might be an easy way to start.

Oh, and one more thing!  I'll have a post here on Unusual Historicals on Tuesday on the Scandalous Affairs of Queen Margaret of Scotland.  She is appears off-stage in CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD and on-stage in TEMPTED BY THE BORDER CAPTAIN. She was the sister of Henry VIII of England and you can see the family resemblance!

TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL, was released in print in North America February 19.  Electronic and UK editions will be available March 1. 

One lucky reader who comments on today’s blog will be randomly selected to win a signed copy of RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR, CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD, or TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL.  Your choice!  

Blythe Gifford has been known for medieval romances featuring characters born on the wrong side of the royal blanket. Now, she’s written a Harlequin Historical trilogy set on the turbulent Scottish Borders of the early Tudor era.  The books are RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR, November 2012, CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD, January 2013, and TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL in March 2013.  The Chicago Tribune has called her work "the perfect balance between history and romance."  Visit her at www.blythegifford.com, www.facebook.com/BlytheGifford, www.pinterest.com/BlytheGifford or on Twitter @BlytheGifford. 

Author photo by Jennifer Girard.  Cover Art Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited.  Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. ® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.

Excerpt Thursday: TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL by Blythe Gifford

This week, we welcome back author Blythe Gifford,  a regular Unusual Historicals contributor, whose Brunson Clan trilogy concludes with TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL, a March release from the Harlequin Historical line which is available in print this week.  (The series launched in November with RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR and continued with the January release of CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD.)

Blythe will be here Sunday to talk about the series in more detail and offer a copy to one lucky commenter.   

The Brunson Clan trilogy is set on the Scottish Borders during the early Tudor era and centers on a family of Border Reivers.  Here’s a glimpse of TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL:

TORMENTED BY HER INNOCENCE
As leader of his clan, Black Rob Brunson has earned every dark syllable of his name. But, having taken hostage his enemy’s daughter in a fierce act of rebellion, he is tormented by feelings of guilt and torn apart with the growing need to protect her—and seduce her!
Stella Storwick feels Rob’s disdain from the first. Then slowly she starts to see behind his eyes to a man in turmoil. Something he has no words for, something that can only be captured in a heart-wrenching kiss.... 

In the excerpt below, from Chapter One, Black Rob Brunson has been out inspecting his land, looking for signs that the family’s blood enemies, the Storwicks, may be planning a raid, and pauses at midday in the hills overlooking his valley.

Something shifted.  The wind.  A scent.  A sound.  He stiffened, alert, and turned his head.

Above him and to his left, sat a woman, silent and stiff, eyes fixed on him warily as if he were a Storwick.

He fashed himself for not looking carefully before leaving his horse.  What if he’d been surprised by the enemy?

Neither spoke, looking.

Dark hair tumbled across her shoulders, but he would not call her beautiful.  At least, not from this angle.  Eyes and lips fought for control of her face.  Her nose was too strong.  Her chin too sharp.  She looked vaguely familiar, but he had seen every far-flung Brunson at one time or another.  Still, he could not summon which branch of the family was hers.

“You’re far from home,” he began, still trying to place her.  The Tait cousin lived nearest, but he had no daughters.

She drew herself up into a crouch, like a wary animal ready to run.  “Nay so far.”

He raised and lowered his shoulders, sorry he had frightened her.  He motioned his head uphill, toward the border.  “Storwicks are no more than five miles away.”

Not taking her eyes from his, she stood slowly and took a step back, as if nearness to the enemy had just occurred to her.  The blush on her cheek paled.  “Have I crossed the border then?”

“Nay.”  He rose to his feet, uncomfortable that she stood while he stretched on the grass.  

What was the strangeness in her accent?  “It’s just over there.”

Her eyes widened.  She turned to look over her shoulder.  Then ran.

That was when he recognized her. 

Stella Storwick didn’t look back, praying for her feet to run faster.

But the Brunson kept coming, strong as a charging ram, trampling the grass behind her.  

Then he was in front of her, cutting off her escape as if she were no more than an unruly ewe.

She dodged.  Left.  Right.  Thinking she could confuse him.

He was a broad man.  She could be quicker.  More steps, her skirt and the grass holding her back.  If she crossed the border, she would be safe…

But next she knew, he grabbed her arm, whirled her around, and both of them tumbled to ground.  She on her back, pressed to earth, he straddling her legs.

She lifted a clawed hand to scratch his eyes, but he caught her wrists and held her arms tight against the dirt without effort.  Even when she shut her eyes against him, he surrounded her, warm and smelling of leather.

“You’re Storwick.”  He did not ask a question.

She opened her eyes.  His were brown.  And murderous.

“And you’re Brunson.”  Close now, she knew him, the man she had seen near half a year ago at Truce Day.  Fool she was, not to have recognized him immediately.

Not just a Brunson.  The Brunson.

A flash of heat crackled through her body.  Hatred, no doubt.

He was one of the Black Brunsons.  Broad of shoulder and brow, dark of hair and eye.  Yes, he had the brown eyes that marked all his cursed clan.

“You’ll not take me.”  She braced herself, stiff armed and legged, as if that would stop him.  “I won’t let you.”

He froze, then turned to spit in the dirt in contempt.  “Brunsons don’t treat women so.”  Disgust now, in his eyes.  “It’s your kind who do that.”

One villainous kin of hers who had done that.

She knew the truth of the whispers about him, though the man had never dared touch her. 

No one dared that.

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”  A lie, but one she hoped would keep him off guard.  She tugged against his hold.  An iron manacle would have given way more easily.

He released her hands with a look that warned her to keep them quiet.  “You’ve heard wrong.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows.  “Then let me go if you don’t mean to take me.”

He sat back on his heels and crossed his arms, his very silence ominous.

She held her breath to stop her speech.  He had not guessed which Storwick she was.  Or that she had come to the hills to spy on his precious tower.

“How far behind are the others?”  He stood, pulling her to her feet, keeping his hand on her wrist while he gazed toward the English side of the border.

“No others.”  Foolish admission.  She had told no one her plan when she left this morning.  Perhaps that had been unwise.

He turned back, sweeping her with a glance head to toe.  One that said she might be daft, but he wasn’t.  “You wander the hills alone with no horse?”

She shrugged to hide the shaking.  “Sun doesn’t often come like this.  I wandered too far.”  And had hoped to wander farther.  A horse would draw attention.  “Let me go.  I’m of no use to you.”

“Oh, you’re of use to me.  You’re going to serve as a hostage for the good behavior of the rest of your people.  If they ride to rescue Hobbes Storwick, you’ll be the one to pay.”

She blanched.  Thank God.  At least her father was alive.

They had not even been sure of that.

  

Blythe Gifford has been known for medieval romances featuring characters born on the wrong side of the royal blanket. Now, she’s launching a trilogy set on the turbulent Scottish Borders of the early Tudor era, starting with RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR, November 2012, Harlequin Historical.  CAPTIVE OF THE BORDER LORD will follow in January 2013, and TAKEN BY THE BORDER REBEL in March 2013.  The Chicago Tribune has called her work "the perfect balance between history and romance."  Visit her at www.blythegifford.com, www.facebook.com/BlytheGifford, or on Twitter @BlytheGifford.  

Author photo by Jennifer Girard.  Excerpt Copyright © 2013 by Wendy B. Gifford.  Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.  Cover Art Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited.  Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. ® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.

Excerpt Thursday: Elizabeth Lane

This week on Excerpt Thursday, we're welcoming long-time contributor Elizabeth Lane as she celebrates the release of her latest Harlequin Historical romance, THE WIDOWED BRIDE, set in the 1920s American West. Join us Sunday when Elizabeth will be here to talk about her latest and give away a copy! Don't miss it. Here's the blurb:

A PROHIBITED PASSION...

Ruby Denby Rumford endured her monstrous husband's abuse until death--by self-defense--did them part. Now she and her daughters seek a new beginning in Dutchman's Creek, Colorado, but will her past stay buried?

With an obligation to uphold the laws of prohibition and an undercover persona in place, U.S. Deputy Marshal Ethan Beaudry comes to town ready to end a shady bootlegging ring. He doesn't expect to find beautiful, mysterious Ruby involved--or to be forced to choose between duty to the law and this forbidden passion.

***

Dutchman's Creek, Colorado
May, 1920

The sooty cobweb stretched from the chandelier to the high ceiling, a good four feet out of reach. Lurking near its center was a spider--a monster with long, prickly legs and a body as big as a copper penny.

Ruby Denby Rumford glared up at her adversary. She'd always had a mortal dread of spiders, but she couldn't let this one get the best of her. If she wanted to attract good tenants for her boarding house, the place would have to be spotless from floor to ceiling. The spider had to go.

Circling warily, she plotted her attack. She might be able to reach the web with the broom. But if she knocked the spider loose, it could end up anywhere--in her hair, in her face, down her blouse... Ruby shuddered as she weighed her options. The only way to make sure the creature didn't land on her would be to capture it first.

A dusty Mason jar with a lid sat on the kitchen counter. That would do for a trap. But she'd need something to climb on. Ruby sighed as she surveyed the rickety cane chairs that had come with the old boarding house. Maybe she should have paid $4.50 for that stepladder at the hardware store. But buying the property had taken almost all her money. Until the rents started coming in, she would need to hoard every cent she had left.

Moving a chair to the center of the room, she tried standing on the seat; but the spider was still out of reach. She needed something more--that wooden crate in the corner might do. Placed on the chair, it would raise her a good eighteen inches.

With the crate in place, Ruby retrieved the jar and prepared for battle. She could do this, she lectured herself. A woman who'd fired three bullets into her raging, two-hundred-pound husband at point blank range should have no trouble facing down a creature the size of her thumb.

Hollis Rumford had deserved to die. Even the jurors had agreed after they'd heard how Hollis had abused her and threatened worse to their two young daughters. At the urging of the best lawyer in the state, they'd acquitted Ruby on grounds of self defense. But her wealthy friends--mostly Hollis's friends--had been less forgiving. The Springfield Missouri social set had cut her off cold.

Exhausted and needing a change of scene, she'd fled to Europe with her little girls. A few months later she'd returned to discover that her late husband's estate had been gobbled up by creditors, leaving her with little more than a pittance.

There was nothing to do but pull up stakes and make a new start.

Dutchman's Creek had been a natural choice. Ruby's brother Jace, her only close kin, had settled on a nearby ranch. He and his spirited young bride Clara were expecting their first baby. They'd urged Ruby to come to Colorado so their children could grow up together.

Ruby had welcomed the invitation. She'd seen the town on an earlier visit and been captivated by its peaceful mountain setting. She'd always been close to Jace, and Clara was like a sister to her. But she had no intention of becoming a burden to them. Whatever it took, she'd vowed, she would find a way to provide for herself and her children.

The vacant boarding house at the south end of Main Street had looked like an answer to her prayers. She and her daughters could live on the main floor and rent the four upstairs rooms for a steady income.

Only now was she beginning to realize how much she'd taken on.

Clutching the jar in one hand, she hitched up her narrow skirt and hoisted herself onto the edge of the chair. Her brother had offered to come and help her get the place in shape. Ruby had turned him down out of stubborn pride. Jace had already done enough for her, risking his life and freedom to protect her after Hollis's death. It was time she learned to manage on her own.

That aside, she'd gladly accepted Clara's invitation to take the girls for the week. Mandy and Caro were having the time of their lives on the ranch, riding horses, climbing trees, bottle-feeding orphaned calves and gathering eggs in the chicken coop.

Meanwhile, their mother had a spider to dispose of.

Holding her breath, Ruby mounted the crate. Her knees quivered as she steadied her balance on the wooden slats. Seconds, that was all she'd need to do the job.

Close up, the spider looked bigger and nastier than ever. Steeling herself, Ruby twisted the lid off the Mason jar and positioned it below the creature. A little more stretch and she could use the lid to maneuver it inside. Heart pounding, she eased onto her tiptoes...

A wooden slat splintered beneath her weight. Thrown off balance, Ruby lurched upward. The jar shattered against the floor as she grabbed for the chain that suspended the small chandelier. Miraculously, the chain held. But her thrashing feet had toppled the crate and chair, leaving her to dangle above the wreckage. The distance to the floor wasn't all that far, but falling could land her on a splintered board, a jutting chair leg or shards of broken glass.

The web was empty now. The spider, she realized, could be anywhere. Panic clenched Ruby's stomach. Her grip was getting weaker, and she had no safe place to fall. There was only one thing she could do.

Scream bloody murder.

* * *

U.S. Deputy Marshal Ethan Beaudry had been assigned to weed out bootleggers, not rescue females in distress. But the shrieks coming from the old boarding house were too urgent to ignore. Vaulting the picket fence, he charged up the steps and burst through the front door.

His breath caught in his throat.

The woman had stopped screaming. She hung by her arms, staring down at him from beneath a tumble of red-gold hair. Her eyes were as blue as the heart of a mountain columbine.

She did make a fetching sight, dangling like an acrobat from the chandelier chain, with her white blouse pulled loose and her skirt hiked over her shapely calves. Ethan was tempted to spend a few more seconds admiring the view. But then she spoke.

"What are you staring at, you fool? Stop gawking and get me down from here!"

Her voice was low, with a taut, gravelly edge that roused Ethan's senses. "Do you trust me to catch you?" he teased.

"Are you sure you're strong enough?" she retorted. "I'm not what you'd call a little woman."

No, she certainly wasn't, Ethan observed. At five-foot eight or nine with a body that could grace the bow of a frigate, she'd make an armful for any man.

He wouldn't mind being that man.

Kicking aside the debris, Ethan stood beneath her and held out his arms. "Come on," he said.

She hesitated, her eyes taking the measure of his broad shoulders and six-foot, two-inch height. One by one, her fingers peeled away from the chain.

With a little yelp, she dropped straight down, feet first. Ethan caught her awkwardly around the knees. From there she slid down the front of him, delicious curves gliding intimately down his face, over his chest, down his belly to--

Lord have mercy, he was in trouble now. His erection had sprung up with coiled-spring efficiency, ready for playtime. She would have felt it all the way down.

Feet touching the floor, she pushed away from him. Her face was flushed, her full lips parted. Ethan fought the temptation to fling caution to the wind, seize her in his arms and kiss her till she burned. The lady would probably slap him hard enough to dislocate his jaw. And she was a lady. Ethan made a practice of reading people, and he was certain of that. Her clothes were simple but expensively made. The Irish linen blouse, smudged with dust and edged with the barest touch of lace, looked European, as did the daintily pointed kidskin oxfords. And he would bet money that the pearl studs in her earlobes were as genuine as her upper-class Midwestern accent.

So what was such a woman doing in this run-down boarding house, a rumored delivery point for the bootlegging trade? He couldn't believe she was involved. But he'd known stranger things to happen.

A flick of her tongue moistened her lower lip. Her complexion was like a porcelain doll's, but close up, Ethan could see the careworn shadows beneath her eyes. He estimated her age at about thirty, and something told him she'd had her share of troubles. He'd noticed right off she wasn't wearing a wedding ring. But she was far too stunning not to have married. A widow, Ethan surmised. A luscious redheaded widow who'd been around the block and knew every step of the way.

Intriguing. And damned tempting...

Weekly Announcements - 28 Nov 2010

Yes, I know it's Sunday. Bear with me as we hurdle over technical difficulties!

***

Celebrating her new Victorian historical holiday release from Decadent Publishing, A CHRISTMAS PROMISE, Amanda McIntyre will be running a Sugar & Spice/Naughty & Nice contest at Fresh Fiction! Win books, share holiday recipes and traditions from November 22 through December 15.

Widowed Irishman Brady McCormick made a promise to his young wife the day she died--to bring their son to America and begin a new life in the land of opportunity. Living in charity with a distant uncle in New York, barely scraping by, Brady is unsure he will be able to uphold the promise, much less quell the loneliness, until an angel appears at the docks, Saran Reichardt.

Headstrong and tenacious, gentlewoman Saran knows she's unlike most women of society. Dedicated to teaching and helping the impoverished, she has no need of a man to take care of her, but an accidental encounter with a stormy-eyed Irish immigrant and his young son changes her perception of what need really is. Will this holiday give them both the hope and faith they desire or will their own stubbornness keep them apart?

***

Follow the Harlequin Historical Advent Calendar for Prizes, including a FREE Kindle 3G!

During the month of December, twenty-two Harlequin Historical Authors, including UH contributors Blythe Gifford and Michelle Styles, have teamed up to create an online Advent Calendar. Starting Tuesday, November 30, you can find the calendar here. Each day, click on the calendar to visit the host author's website, and you can win prizes such as signed books, gift certificates, and holiday goodies. Blythe's day will be December 12; Michelle's is December 20.

You will be asked to complete a task, such as posting a blog comment, searching for a hidden ornament, or answering a question about an excerpt. Please check the author's webpage for your instructions and to see what the daily prize is. You can enter once each day, at each of the twenty-two websites.

On December 23rd, a random drawing from among all 22 authors' entries will determine the grand prize winner of a Kindle 3-G. Please see the official eligibility rules for this giveaway.

Happy Holidays from the Harlequin Historical authors!

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Stay with us through the coming weeks when we'll be featuring the best unusual historical authors! Michelle Beattie, Elizabeth Lane, Alix Rickloff, and our fourth anniversary bash will be coming up. Join us!

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Have a good week! Remember, you don't have to be an Unusual Historicals contributor to submit good news to the weekend announcements. If it has to do with unusual historicals, we'd love to shout it out to the world! Send announcements to Carrie. See you next week...

Guest Author: Jeannie Lin

This week our guest author is contributor Jeannie Lin as she celebrates the release of her debut, BUTTERFLY SWORDS, which is available now. BUTTERFLY SWORDS promises to take Harlequin Historical readers where they've never gone before: to 8th century China!

"If Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon merged with A Knight's Tale, you'd have the power and romance of Lin's dynamic debut. The action never stops, the love story is strong and the historical backdrop is fascinating." ★★★★ RT Book Reviews

"Jeannie Lin will take you on a trip to China you will not forget." ~ Book Lovers, Inc.

Journey to the very edge of honor, loyalty...and love.

During China's infamous Tang Dynasty, a time awash with luxury, yet littered with deadly intrigues and fallen royalty, betrayed Princess Ai Li flees before her wedding. Miles from home, with only her delicate butterfly swords for a defense, she enlists the reluctant protection of a blue-eyed warrior...

Battle-scarred, embittered Ryam has always held his own life at cheap value. Ai Li's innocent trust in him and honorable, stubborn nature make him desperate to protect her--which means not seducing the first woman he has ever truly wanted....

***

How did you market an Asian story, location and character to mainstream publishing?

Editors and agents kept on saying that ultimately, the one thing that sells any book is the writing. I paid careful attention to developing craft and spent a lot of time figuring out how to write an opening that would market the book.

Other than that, I think you have to stand strong on what you're doing and why. In my head, I saw BUTTERFLY SWORDS as having great crossover potential. When querying, I conveyed the standout elements and tried to give a clear picture of the story. I positioned it as a historical romance to commit to a genre, though I knew there were historical fantasy elements in the book.

Why butterfly swords? Why not some other type of blade?

The moment I dreamt up Ai Li, I imagined the two swords in her hands. The two ideas came together, along with the title, and everything clicked into place.

I chose them because they're the only swords I've ever received any training on so I had some idea of how to use them. The double swords really are great weapons for a woman. They're lightweight and maneuverable. Pitting the more fluid and soft butterfly swords against the harder broadsword techniques that the hero uses seemed like a perfect match.

Tell us a little-known fact about Ryam. About Ai Li.

Ryam was inspired in part by Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride. Ryam's father is a swordmaster who drank his life away and got killed in a stupid brawl. Ai Li was inspired in part by Lady Sun of the Three Kingdoms period, who had five brothers and always carried a sword around with her.

Which scene did you rewrite most?

The first fight scene between Ai Li and Ryam was the one I nitpicked the most. I had to work and rework the lead up for pacing and tension. I made a bunch of tweaks and passes for flow during the choreography of the fight. I believe that you should write an action scene and then go in and hack away a third of it, non-negotiable.

I experimented with both POVs, trying to decide who was the best narrator for the fight. I also went in and edited for sexual tension. This scene was how I wanted them to communicate with each other for the first time. Ryam had already helped Ai Li out, so she was indebted to him, but this "first touch" was so important for establishing why she would trust him and ultimately, be attracted to him.

How many people have you killed? What weapon did you use?

The funny thing is the death count in BUTTERFLY SWORDS is actually low compared to the other books I've written. Butterfly swords originated from the Shaolin temple and are meant to maim not kill. This might cause the book to lose a couple of Sherman tanks on the rating scale. (This was Courtney Milan's question, who seems to be taking a page from Mr. Milan.)

Is there a similar narrative in your next book? Or different here?

What if I told you there were no swordfights in the next book? :)

The sequel is still steeped in warfare and warrior culture, but where BUTTERFLY SWORDS is a sword fight adventure, THE DRAGON AND THE PEARL focuses on long held secrets and the underworld of the empire. My editor described it as "the same elements that made Butterfly Swords a strong submission, but very different."

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Since BUTTERFLY SWORDS is a romantic mash-up of Asian and Western heroic fiction, what are some of your favorite mash-ups? Jeannie is giving away an autographed copy of her debut novel along with a souvenir charm and collectible art card to one random commenter. I'll draw the winner at random next Sunday. Void where prohibited. Best of luck!

Excerpt Thursday: Jeannie Lin

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're welcoming contributor Jeannie Lin as she celebrates the release of her debut, BUTTERFLY SWORDS, which is available now. BUTTERFLY SWORDS promises to take Harlequin Historical readers where they've never gone before: to 8th century China!

"If Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon merged with A Knight's Tale, you'd have the power and romance of Lin's dynamic debut. The action never stops, the love story is strong and the historical backdrop is fascinating." ★★★★ RT Book Reviews

Join us Sunday when Jeannie will be here to talk about her award-winning debut and give away a signed copy.

During China's infamous Tang Dynasty, a time awash with luxury, yet littered with deadly intrigues and fallen royalty, betrayed Princess Ai Li flees before her wedding. Miles from home, with only her delicate butterfly swords for a defense, she enlists the reluctant protection of a blue-eyed warrior...

Battle-scarred, embittered Ryam has always held his own life at cheap value. Ai Li's innocent trust in him and honorable, stubborn nature make him desperate to protect her--which means not seducing the first woman he has ever truly wanted....

***

Set-up: Ryam and Ai Li are thrown together when he rushes into a throng of bandits to save her. This scene happens the day after, when they wake up in a secluded area of the woods.

***

"I was...I was practicing."

"This is how you practice?"

He folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head as he circled her. The intensity of his gaze flooded her with heat. It was a wonder she didn't cut herself with her own swords.

"All those elaborate patterns," he murmured. "Does that help in fights?"

"In combat, your body falls into what it has done a thousand times before. A perfect harmony between instinct and thought."

Her throat felt dry as she recited the words. Her elder brothers were commonly praised for their skill, but never before had a man shown such interest in her. She drew out an intricate pattern with the tip of one sword in three neat swipes, as if wielding a calligraphy brush. It gave her something to do as he stepped closer. All of the air around her seemed to rush toward him whenever he drew near.

"Your brothers taught you this?" he asked.

"My grandmother."

His laughter filled the clearing. "Your grandmother?"

"Grandmother was a master."

The next pass of her sword sliced a scant inch in front of him, taunting him. He stood his ground and his smile widened.

"So do you want to try it?"

Her swords froze. "Try it?"

"My barbaric head bashing against that beautiful sword work of yours."

A duel. Her heart was already pounding with the promise of it.

"No," she replied.

"No?"

"You are far more experienced than I am."

The meaning had been clear in her head as she spoke the words, yet another, more suggestive meaning loomed between them. A well of heat rose up her neck. She blamed this barbarian language.

He placed a hand to his chest with mock passion. "But you got the better of me yesterday when I was drugged. Don't I deserve a chance to redeem myself?"

She was certain there was something not quite proper about a strange man offering to spar with her the day after they met. Yet this foreigner treated her with such directness and familiarity, like her brothers. He continued to taunt her with laughter shining in his eyes and the curve of his mouth hinted at an irresistible wickedness. Her stomach knotted in response.

In truth, not like her brothers at all.

"I should get some advantage since you are so..." She looked him up and down. "Big."

"What do you have in mind?"

With a household of five brothers she knew how to pick her battles. Ryam had more training than her and his sword could cut her in half, but its weight would slow him down. And the terms were yet to be negotiated. With a good plan, she could defeat Fourth Brother and occasionally, even Third brother.

"I attack first. Ten attempts. You can only defend," she proposed.

"You do this often, don't you?"

His irises shifted to storm gray, the laughter in them transforming into something dark and unknown. He held her gaze while the woods faded around her.

"What do you say to a wager?" He unsheathed his sword in a seductive whisper of steel. "If I win, you give me a kiss."

Barbaric. But she saw her opening.

"If I win, you take me to Changan."

He let her heart beat on forever before answering.

"Agreed."

Her palms began to sweat, and a fever rose beneath her skin. Up until then, she truly believed she could defeat him. She had been running strategies through her head, but suddenly she found herself staring at the rough stubble over his jaw and wondering if it would tickle. It was the sort of daydream that would send Grandmother's bamboo switch stinging over her knuckles. The sort of thought that would have Mother beseeching their ancestors to bring her back to sanity.

"After the first round--" She ran her tongue over her lips. For all her negotiation, she had the sinking feeling this duel had slipped out of her grasp. "If you do not defeat me after ten attempts, you should honorably forfeit."

"Of course. Twenty moves?" he asked softly.

Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Mind, breath, body. "Or first blood."

He raised his sword in salute. The smile remained on his face as he backed away, setting the starting distance.

Guest Author: Jeannie Lin

This week on Unusual Historicals we're welcoming contributor Jeannie Lin as she celebrates the release of "THE TAMING OF MEI LIN," a Harlequin Historicals Undone set in Tang Dynasty China!

When a corrupt local official wants to take Mei Lin as, not second, but third wife, she rebels and makes an outrageous declaration--she'll only marry a man if he can defeat her in a sword fight. She has managed to fend off the local thugs and village hopefuls, but then a tall, mysterious stranger comes into town...

***

What made you decide on the Tang Dynasty as a setting for "THE TAMING OF MEI LIN"?

I explained to someone recently how the Tang Dynasty to Asians is how many people think of the Regency period in England. The Tang Dynasty was a golden era of high culture. It was a time of beautiful art and music, literacy, and diplomacy. The clothes and fashions were lavish as a reflection of the wealth and ministers and courtesans alike were expected to be witty, intelligent, and charming. Most importantly, women enjoyed more independence during this time with several noteworthy women rising to the highest positions in the empire. This was a time ripe for strong, larger than life heroines.

What really attracted me to the Tang Dynasty was the fall of the empire, which actually happened over a period of two hundred years. This was a more tumultuous time when I envisioned the empire still enjoying the wealth of its height, while political skirmishes and the rise of powerful warlords chipped away at its foundation. The inherent conflict there was too rich to ignore.

What were some of the challenges of making such an unusual time period accessible to readers?

I knew that the language and specifically the names could be a barrier. I went back and forth a lot with how much Chinese to insert and also took care to use names that were easy on the ear and the eye. I also knew readers had expectations about China. I received a lot of comments about foot binding and how my heroines could behave so independently in a culture when women were subjugated.

I tried to focus building a vivid and authentic world and hoped that the more readers became engaged in the story and the characters, the less they would doubt the historical details.

Your Harlequin Undone, "THE TAMING OF MEI LIN," features several fight scenes. What sort of research went into that?

I love sword fights! I've always loved watching a hero and heroine duke it out with swords. The duel in Red Sonja between Arnold and Brigitte Nielson is one of my favorites. It just doesn't happen enough.

As to research, I trained for two years a long, long time ago in Wing Chun Kung Fu. During that time, I took several seminars on the butterfly sword form. In that style, the double short swords are an extension of your arms. The sword techniques are extensions of the hand to hand techniques. I thought that style was perfect for my heroine and I understood the principles of the system enough that I felt I could make it authentic.

"THE TAMING OF MEI LIN" is described as a linked short story to your October debut, BUTTERFLY SWORDS. Can you explain the link between them?

Ai Li is the heroine of BUTTERFLY SWORDS. "THE TAMING OF MEI LIN" is the story of her grandmother and grandfather, who I envisioned as having many heroic tales of their own in the past. So the short story is a prequel to BUTTERFLY SWORDS. In it, I got to explore what events contributed to Ai Li's feisty, yet honorable nature and what gave her the strength find love on her own terms.

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Be Sure to join the Sept.-Oct. launch celebration for "THE TAMING OF MEI LIN" and Jeannie's October debut, BUTTERFLY SWORDS, at this special website. Jeannie will be giving away actual butterfly swords, great books, and this original artwork as part of the festivities!

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Thanks for stopping by, Jeannie! The buzz is already huge for BUTTERFLY SWORDS. Jeannie is giving Unusual Historicals readers a little taste of this excitement before her October debut. Leave a comment of question for Jeannie for your chance to win a copy of "THE TAMING OF MEI LIN," a short story from Harlequin Historicals Undone. The story is available in Adobe PDF, Adobe EPUB, Microsoft eBook, or Microsoft MOBI formats. I'll draw a winner at random next Sunday. Void where prohibited. Best of luck!

Excerpt Thursday: Jeannie Lin

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're welcoming contributor Jeannie Lin as she celebrates the release of "The Taming of Mei Lin," a Harlequin Historicals Undone set in Tang Dynasty China. So exciting! Join us Sunday when Jeannie will be here to talk about this short story and answer questions, as well as give away a digital copy. Don't miss it!

When a corrupt local official wants to take Mei Lin as, not second, but third wife, she rebels and makes an outrageous declaration--she'll only marry a man if he can defeat her in a swordfight. She has managed to fend off the local thugs and village hopefuls, but then a tall, mysterious stranger comes into town...

***

Shen Leung extracted himself from the tavern to taunting and cries of "One more round!" The chorus finally faded by the time he made his way to the shed behind merchant Wang's house. The storage area had been cleared and swept so that a cot could be laid out to serve as a bed. He unclasped his sword belt and managed to shrug out of his tunic before sinking onto the cot.

Among the many cities and villages he'd passed through, this place was truly remarkable. The people were generous, the wine strong. And the woman...

He closed his eyes and she was there. Mei Lin. Pretty, pretty Mei Lin and her deadly butterfly swords. The noodle shop wouldn't be open this late, otherwise he'd go there now and spend what little coin he had even though he wasn't hungry.

He'd stolen glances from the tavern to search the stand throughout the evening, but she'd never returned. There had been such a quiet sorrow about her after the duel was finished. He'd felt the echo of it inside him. Every time he tried to make an excuse to leave, he'd been dragged back by well-wishers demanding stories of his travels.

Perhaps there would be time in the morning. He'd visit the stand before he left and she'd be there in the sunlight, as beguiling as she'd been when he'd first seen her. She had such delightful skin. The women of these southern regions were so soft and curved and feminine. So different from the harsh northern steppes. He pulled the quilt over his shoulders and prepared to dream.

With a sharp crack, the door flew open. He jerked awake and sat up so fast that the world tilted. A wash of moonlight highlighted the form in the doorway. He'd know that silhouette anywhere. That slender waist and graceful neck. His eyes had already committed Mei Lin to memory.

"Shen Leung."

Tentatively she stepped forward. Her hair was pulled up into a simple knot and her skin glowed in the pale light. Elegant. Sweet. Tempting.

She blinked at him, then glanced away. The blanket had slipped from his shoulders and the stir of the air against his skin reminded him that he was half-naked before this maiden. Blood gathered in his loins alarmingly.

"Mei Lin?" His voice came out thick and huskier than he had expected.

Her mouth pressed tight. It was then that he noticed the glint of the butterfly sword in her hand.

"Shen Leung, you are going to die tonight."