I liked C2′s idea of a Best of 2008 list.  Then Liv got into the action, so thought I’d give it a try too.  (Of course, mine are the best of the bunch.)  I was never one to keep track of my reads, and 2008 was the first time I’ve done that; therefore, this list, though difficult to choose just a few in the long run, was easy for me since I didn’t have to rely on a twelve-month memory.

So here’s my Best of 2008, in no particular order.

Blue-Eyed Devil by Lisa Kleypas
Contemporary Romance Audiobook released by Brilliance Audio 25 Mar 08

Actually, I drooled over Hardy Cates while listening to him with the audiobook of Blue-Eyed Devil. My first foray (including Sugar Daddy) into Kleypas books and I loved every darned minute of it!

Weddings Can Be Murder by Christie Craig
Contemporary Romance released by Love Spell 27 May 08

I never thought I would fall in love with a hero who’s a sympathy puker.  Don’t wrinkle your nose!  Read the book, it’s hilarious! Christie Craig is making a huge name for herself and her wonderful humor.
Double Enchantment by Kathryne Kennedy
Historical Paranormal Romance released by Love Spell 26 Aug 08

A breath of fresh air with a new take on the English social castes.  Fun, intriguing, and very romantic. And loads of magic along with shapeshifting, both of which give readers a different look at old favorites.

Superb and Sexy by Jill Shalvis
Contemporary Romance released by Brava 1 Jun 08

Really, you can interchange any one of the three Sexy books in here. Just love those Sky High Men! Ms. Shalvis has a way with humor, romance, mystery, and fun.

Killer Charms by Marianne Stillings
Contemporary Romance released by Avon 26 Aug 08

I enjoyed all three books about the Darling family, but it’s the hero of this one that gave it top honors for me in 2008. I’ll definitely be reading more of Ms. Stillings.

King of Sword and Sky (Tairen Soul, Book 3) by C.L. Wilson
Paranormal Fantasy Romance released by Leisure Books 30 Sep 08

With just one more book to go, this series is now my favorite of all time. Ms. Wilson has created a world that is just absolutely fantastic and she’s giving us a love story like no other.

Hostage to Pleasure by Nalini Singh
Release by Berkley 2 Sep 08

I’ve loved every book in this series.  They’re all incredible.  But Dorian has always been my favorite from the very first book and I’d anticipated his story for so long.  Ms. Singh did not disappoint!

Scandalous by Night by Barbara Pierce
Historical Romance released by St. Martin’s Paperbacks 29 Jul 08

Barbara Pierce has become an all-time favorite historical author for me.  This book she gave readers a darker side of her writing and Everod is her best hero yet.

With Every Breath by Lynn Kurland
Time Travel Romance released by Jove 27 May 08

Beautiful writing, sweeping Scottish vistas, love and romance that crosses time boundaries, and characters you’ll love forever. What’s not to love?

The Missing by Shiloh Walker
Contemporary Paranormal Romance released by Berkley Trade 4 Nov 08

As I said in my review of this book, Ms. Walker has outdone herself with this one.  Absolutely mesmerizing.  If you haven’t read it, you should.  You’re missing out, big time.

Honorable mentions:

Ask Adam by Jess Dee
Contemporary Romance released by Samhain 29 Jul 08

Ms. Dee is a first-time author for me and I enjoyed her writing and storytelling immensely.  I have a feeling she’s really going to go places!

The Hot Line by Cathryn Fox
Contemporary Romance released by NAL 4 Mar 08

Another first-time author for me. Had to love the idea of the Hot Line, firefighters just waiting to help a lady out. And those boys know what they’re doing!

I really like Lisa Kleypas‘s novels. I’m sure you all know that. I don’t know Ms. Kleypas as a person, but I’m sure I’d like her in real life as well. Regardless, I can wax poetic on a number of her novels. Prince of Dreams, Dreaming of You, Suddenly You, and Because You’re Mine are some of my favorites.

But this is a post about the Wallflower Series. (I suppose I could talk about the most recent A Wallflower Christmas, but … why when you can win one and find out for yourself?)

Opinions seem to differ vastly about this series… but I really like Secrets of a Summer Night. Maybe because I’m traditional, or I just have major positive association with it because it was first. Accordingly, I’ve found a passage I liked. (Ok, I admit I basically thumbed through pages, and stopped, and voila! But it is cute. Not a sexy tension filled scene, but pretty adorable all the same.)

“Mr. Hunt,” she said carefully, “there is something I must ask you…”

“Yes?” His eyes were definitely his most attractive feature, Annabelle thought distractedly. Vibrant and full of life, they made her wonder why people generally preferred blue eyes to dark ones. No shade of blue could ever convey the simmering intelligence that lurked in the depths of Simon Hunt’s sable eyes.

Try as she might, Annabelle could think of no subtle way to ask him. After grappling silently with a variety of phrases, she finally settled for a blunt question. “Were you responsible for the boots?”

His expression gave nothing away. “Boots? I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning, Miss Peyton. Are you speaking in metaphor, or are we talking about actual footwear?”

“Ankle boots,” Annabelle said, staring at him with open suspicion. “A new pair that was left inside the door of my room yesterday.”

“Delighted as I am to discuss any part of your wardrobe, Miss Peyton, I’m afraid I know nothing about a pair of boots. However, I am relieved that you have managed to acquire some. Unless, of course, you wished to continue acting as a strolling buffet to the wildlife of Hampshire.”

Annabelle regarded him for a long moment. Despite his denial, there was something lurking behind his neutral facade…some playful spark in his eyes… “Then you deny having given the boots to me?”

“Most emphatically I deny it.”

“But I wonder…if some one wished to have a pair of boots made up for a lady without her knowledge… how would he be able to learn the precise size of her feet?”

“That would be a relatively simple task…” he mused. “I imagine that some enterprising person would simply ask a housemaid to trace the soles of the lady’s discarded slippers. Then he could take the pattern to the local cobbler. And make it worth the cobbler’s while to delay his other work in favor of crafting the new shoes immediately.”

“That is quite a lot of trouble for someone to go through,” Annabelle murmured.

Hunt’s gaze was lit with sudden mischief. “Rather less trouble than having to haul an injured woman up three flights of stairs every time she goes out walking in her slippers.”

Annabelle realized that he would never admit to giving her the boots-which would allow her to keep them, but would also ensure that she would never be able to thank him. And she knew he had-she could see it in his face.

“Mr. Hunt,” she said earnestly, “I …I wish…” She paused, unable to find words, and stared helplessly at him.

Taking pity on her, Hunt stood and went to the side of the room, picking up a small circular game table. It was only about two feet in diameter, constructed with a clever mechanism to allow a player to flip the top from a chessboard to a draughtsboard. “Do you play?” he asked casually, setting the table in front of her.

“Draughts? Yes, occasionally-”

“No, not draughts. Chess.”

Annabelle shook her head, shrinking back into the corner of the settee. “No, I’ve never played chess. And I don’t wish to sound uncooperative, but… the way I feel at present, I have no desire to try something as difficult as-”

“It’s time for you to learn, then,” Hunt said, heading to a niche of shelves to retrieve a polished burl-wood box. “It’s been said that you can never really know someone until you play chess with him.”

Annabelle watched him cautiously, feeling nervous at the prospect of being alone with him …and yet she was thoroughly beguiled by his deliberate gentleness. It seemed almost as if he were trying to coax her to trust him. There was a softness in his manner that seemed utterly at odds with the cynical rake she had always known him to be.

“Do you believe that?” she asked.

“Of course not.” Hunt brought the box to the table and opened it to reveal a set of onyx and ivory chessmen, carved in scrupulous detail. He slid her a provocative glance. “The truth is, you can never really know a man until you’ve loaned him money. And you can never know a woman until you’ve slept in her bed.”

Next, is It Happened One Autumn. I’m not sure why but Lillian and Westcliff, while great, aren’t my favorite characters. I think Lillian’s personality is way too different/foreign from mine. And Westcliff while “perfect” isn’t that personable. But there’s definitely one part that comes to mind.

“My lord.”

…”Yes, Salter,” he said brusquely, resenting the interruption.

“There is a…a situation, my lord, that I felt certain you would wish to be informed of.”

“What kind of situation?”

“It involves one of the guests, my lord.”

“Well?” Marcus demanded, annoyed by the butler’s diffidence. “Who is it? And what is he doing?”

“I am afraid the person is a ‘she,’ my lord. One of the footmen has just informed me that he saw Miss Bowman in the library, and she is…not well.”

Marcus stood so suddenly that his chair nearly toppled over. “Which Miss Bowman?”

“I do not know, my lord.”

“What do you mean, ‘not well’? Is anyone with her?”

“I do not believe so, my lord.”

“Is she hurt? Is she ill?”

Salter gave him a mildly harried stare. “Neither, my lord. Merely …not well.”

…His hands gripped into white-knuckled balls, and his pace quickened. It seemed to take forever to reach the library. By the time he crossed the threshold, his heart was driving in sharp blows inside his chest …a rhythm that owed nothing to exertion and everything to panic. What he saw caused him to stop short in the center of the large room.

Lillian stood before a row of books, with a pile of them surrounding her on the floor. She was pulling rare volumes from the shelves one by one, examining each with a puzzled frown and then tossing it heedlessly behind her. She seemed oddly languid, as if she were moving under water. And her hair was slipping from its pins. She didn’t look ill, precisely. In fact, she looked…

Becoming aware of his presence, Lillian glanced over her shoulder with a lopsided smile. “Oh. It’s you,” she said, her voice slurred. Her attention wandered back to the shelves. “I can’t find anything. All these books are so deadly dull…”

Frowning in concern, Marcus approached her while she continued to chatter and sort through the books. “Not this one…nor this one…oh no, no, no, this one’s not even in English…”

Marcus’s panic transformed rapidly into outrage, followed swiftly by amusement. Damnation. If he had required additional proof that Lillian Bowman was utterly wrong for him, this was it. The wife of a Marsden would never sneak into the library and drink until she was, as his mother would phrase it, “a trifle disguised.” Staring into her drowsy dark eyes and flushed face, Marcus amended the phrase. Lillian was not disguised. She was foxed, staggering, tap-hackled, top-heavy, shot-in-the-neck, staggering drunk.

More books sailed through the air, one of them narrowly missing his ear.

“Perhaps I could help,” Marcus suggested pleasantly, stopping beside her. “If you would tell me what you’re looking for.”

“Something romantic. Something with a happy ending. There should always be a happy ending, shouldn’ there?”

Marcus reached out to finger a trailing lock of her hair, his thumb sliding along the glowing satin filaments. He had never thought of himself as a particularly tactile man, but it seemed impossible to keep from touching her when she was near. The pleasure he derived from the simplest contact with her set all his nerves alight. “Not always,” he said in reply to her question.

Lillian let out a bubbling laugh. “How very English of you. How you all love to suffer, with your stiff… stiff…” She peered at the book in her hands, distracted by the gilt on its cover. “…upper lips,” she finished absently.

“We don’t like to suffer.”

“Yes, you do. At the very least, you go out of your way to avoid enjoying something.”

By now Marcus was becoming accustomed to the unique mixture of lust and amusement that she always managed to arouse in him. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping one’s enjoyments private.”

Dropping the book in her hands, Lillian turned to face him. The abruptness of the movement resulted in a sharp wobble, and she swayed back against the shelves even as he moved to steady her with his hands at her waist. Her tip-tilted eyes sparkled like an array of diamonds scattered over brown velvet. “It has nothing to do with privacy,” she informed him. “The truth is that you don’t want to be happy, bec-” She hiccupped gently. “Because it would undermine your dignity. Poor Wes’cliff.” She regarded him compassionately.

At the moment, preserving his dignity was the last thing on Marcus’s mind. He grasped the frame of the bookcase on either side of her, encompassing her in the half circle of his arms. As he caught a whiff of her breath, he shook his head and murmured, “Little one…what have you been drinking?”

“Oh…” She ducked beneath his arm and careened to the sideboard a few feet away. “I’ll show you… wonderful, wonderful stuff… this.” Triumphantly she plucked a nearly empty brandy bottle from the edge of the sideboard and held it by the neck. “Look what someone did…a pear, right inside! Isn’ that clever?” Bringing the bottle close to her face, she squinted at the imprisoned fruit. “It wasn’ very good at first. But it improved after a while. I suppose it’s an ac”-another delicate hiccup- “acquired taste.”

“It appears you’ve succeeded in acquiring it,” Marcus remarked, following her.

“You won’ tell anyone, will you?”

“No,” he promised gravely. “But I’m afraid they’re going to know regardless. Unless we can sober you in the next two or three hours before they return. Lillian, my angel …how much was in the bottle when you started?”

Showing him the bottle, she put her finger a third of the way from the bottom. “It was there when I started. I think. Or maybe there.” She frowned sadly at the bottle. “Now all that’s left is the pear.” She swirled the bottle, making the plump fruit slosh juicily at the bottom. “I want to eat it,” she announced.

“It’s not meant to be eaten. It’s only there to infuse the-Lillian, give the damned thing to me.”

“I am going to eat it.” Lillian tottered drunkenly away from him as she shook the bottle with increasing resolve. “If I can just get it out…”

“You can’t. It’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” she scoffed, lurching to face him. “You have servants who can pull the brains from a calf’s head, but they couldn’ get one little pear out of a bottle? I doubt that. Send for one of your under-butlers-just give a whistle, and-oh, I forgot. You can’t whistle.” She focused on him, her eyes narrowing as she stared at his mouth. “That’s the sillies’ thing I ever heard. Everyone can whistle. I’ll teach you. Right now. Pucker your lips. Like this. Pucker… see?”

Marcus caught her in his arms as she swayed before him. Staring down at her adorably pursed lips, he felt an insistent warmth invading his heart, overflowing and spilling past its fretted barriers. God in heaven, he was tired of fighting his desire for her. It was exhausting to struggle against something so overwhelming. Like trying not to breathe.

Lillian stared at him earnestly, seeming puzzled by his refusal to comply. “No, no, not like that. Like this.” The bottle dropped to the carpet. She reached up to his mouth and tried to shape his lips with her fingers. “Rest your tongue on the edge of your teeth and…it’s all about the tongue, really. If you’re agile with your tongue, you’ll be a very, very good”-she was temporarily interrupted as he covered her mouth with a brief, ravening kiss-”whistler. My lord, I can’t talk when you-” He fitted his mouth to hers again, devouring the sweet brandied taste of her.

She leaned against him helplessly, her fingers sliding into his hair, while her breath struck his cheek in rapid, delicate puffs. A tide of sensual urgency rolled through him as the kiss deepened into full-blown compulsion. The memory of their encounter in the hidden garden had haunted him for days …the delicacy of her skin beneath his hands, her small, exquisite breasts, the enticing strength of her legs. He wanted to feel her wrapped around him, her hands clutching his back, her knees clamped around his hips…the silky-wet caress of her body as he moved inside her.

Pulling her head back, Lillian stared at him with wondering eyes, her lips damp and reddened. Her hands left his hair, her fingertips coming to the hard angles of his cheekbones, delicate strokes of coolness on the blazing heat of his skin. He bent his head, nuzzling his jaw against the pale silk of her palm. “Lillian,” he whispered, “I’ve tried to leave you alone. But I can’t do it anymore. In the past two weeks I’ve had to stop myself a thousand times from coming to you. No matter how often I tell myself that you are the most inappropriate…” He paused as she squirmed suddenly, twisting and craning her neck to look down at the floor. “No matter what I-Lillian, are you listening to me? What the devil are you looking for?”

“My pear. I dropped it, and-oh, there it is.” She broke free of him and sank to her hands and knees, reaching beneath a chair. Pulling out the brandy bottle, she sat on the floor and held it in her lap.

“Lillian, forget the damned pear.”

“How did it get in there, d’you think?” She poked her finger experimentally into the neck of the bottle. “I don’ see how something so big could fit into a hole that small.”

Marcus closed his eyes against a surge of aggravated passion, and his voice cracked as he replied. “They… they put it directly on the tree. The bud grows …inside…” He slitted his eyes open and squeezed them shut again as he saw her finger intruding deeper into the bottle. “Grows…” he forced himself to continue, “until the fruit is ripe.”

Lillian seemed rather too impressed by the information. “They do? That is the cleverest, cleverest …a pear in its own little…oh no.”

“What?” Marcus asked through clenched teeth.

“My finger’s stuck.”

… and you know, the rest gets even better

Ok – I can’t resist. One more impassioned paragraph.

“It wasn’t a meaningless act for me either,” Marcus said, his raspy whisper tickling her ear. “Yesterday I finally realized that all the things I thought were wrong about you were actually the things I enjoyed most. I don’t give a damn what you do, so long as it pleases you. Run barefoot on the front lawn. Eat pudding with your fingers. Tell me to go to hell as often as you like. I want you just as you are. After all, you’re the only woman aside from my sisters who has ever dared to tell me to my face that I’m an arrogant ass. How could I resist you?” His mouth moved to the soft cushion of her cheek. “My dearest Lillian,” he whispered, easing her head back to kiss her eyelids. “If I had the gift of poetry, I would shower you with sonnets. But words have always been difficult for me when my feelings are strongest. And there is one word in particular that I can’t bring myself to say to you…‘goodbye.’ I couldn’t bear the sight of you walking away from me. If you won’t marry me for the sake of your own honor, then do it for the sake of everyone who would have to tolerate me otherwise. Marry me because I need someone who will help me to laugh at myself. Because someone has to teach me how to whistle. Marry me, Lillian…because I have the most irresistible fascination for your ears.”

Now… Devil in Winter is my favorite of the series. Evie is so likable, and St. Vincent – well, enough said there, yes? Without further ado… here is your [naughty] excerpt:

Sebastian pulled Evie inside the club, where the silence was startling after the tumult of the alley. She labored to keep pace with his ground-eating strides, her own breath coming fast by the time they reached the reading room on the main floor. The built-in mahogany shelves were filled with leather volumes. Against the walls, a multitude of papers and periodicals were draped over racks made with rows of clever movable dowels. Pushing Evie into the room, Sebastian closed them both inside with a decisive slam.

“Were you hurt?” he asked roughly.

“No.” Evie tried to hold back her next words, but they came out in a burst of resentment. “Why were you gone for so long? I needed you, and you weren’t here!”

“You had thirty employees to protect you. Why did you go downstairs in the first place? You should have stayed upstairs until you knew for certain who was outside.”

“Mr. Bullard told me that Annabelle Hunt was waiting for me. And then when I saw that it was my uncle, Bullard wouldn’t let me back inside the club. He pushed me right into my uncle’s arms.”

“My God.” Sebastian’s eyes widened. “I’m going to disembowel him, the gutter scum-”

“And while all that was happening,” Evie continued wrathfully, “you were in bed with a prostitute!” As the words left her lips, she realized that to her, this was the crux of the matter…even more important than Bullard’s betrayal, or her uncles’ assault, her emotions were roiling at the fact that Sebastian had betrayed her so soon with another woman.

Sebastian focused on her with an alert gaze. “I wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie,” Evie said, while their mutual fury seethed in the air. “I know you were.”

“Why are you so bloody certain?”

“Because you stayed at Madam Bradshaw’s for more than two hours!”

“I was talking about business. Talking, Evie! If you don’t believe that, then you can go to hell. Because if I had slept with someone, I guarantee you that I would be a lot more relaxed than I am now.”

Staring into Sebastian’s eyes, which were as hard as a frozen pond, Evie felt her outrage begin to drain away. She had no choice but to believe him-his offended anger was obvious.

“Oh,” she muttered.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

“I suppose…I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. But knowing what I do of your past…I assumed…”

Her lame attempt at an apology seemed to erode the remnants of Sebastian’s self-control. “Well, your assumption was wrong! If you haven’t yet noticed, I’m busier than the devil in a high wind, every minute of the day. I don’t have the damned time for a tumble. And if I did-” He stopped abruptly. All semblance of the elegant viscount Evie had once watched from afar in Lord Westcliff’s drawing room had vanished. He was rumpled and bruised and furious. And he wasn’t breathing at all well. “If I did-” He broke off again, a flush crossing the crests of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Evie saw the exact moment when his self-restraint snapped. Alarm jolted through her, and she lurched toward the closed door. Before she had even made a step, she found herself seized and pinned against the wall by his body and hands. The smell of sweat-dampened linen and healthy, aroused male filled her nostrils.

Once he had caught her, Sebastian pressed his parted lips against the thin skin of her temple. His breath snagged. Another moment of stillness. Evie felt the electrifying touch of his tongue at the very tip of her eyebrow. He breathed against the tiny wet spot, a waft of hellfire that sent chills through her entire body. Slowly he brought his mouth to her ear, and traced the intricate inner edges.

His whisper seemed to come from the darkest recesses of her own mind. “If I did, Evie…then by now I would have shredded your clothes with my hands and teeth until you were naked. By now I would have pushed you down to the carpet, and put my hands beneath your breasts and lifted them up to my mouth. I would be kissing them…licking them…until the tips were like hard little berries, and then I would bite them so gently…”

Evie felt herself drift into a slow half swoon as he continued in a ragged murmur. “…I would kiss my way down to your thighs…inch by inch…and when I reached those sweet red curls, I would lick through them, deeper and deeper, until I found the little pearl of your clitoris…and I would rest my tongue on it until I felt it throb. I would circle it, and stroke it…I’d lick until you started to beg. And then I would suck you. But not hard. I wouldn’t be that kind. I would do it so lightly, so tenderly, that you would start screaming with the need to come…I would put my tongue inside you…taste you…eat you. I wouldn’t stop until your entire body was wet and shaking. And when I had tortured you enough, I would open your legs and come inside you, and take you…take you…”

Sebastian stopped, anchoring her against the wall while they both remained frozen, aroused, panting.

At length, he spoke in a nearly inaudible voice. “You’re wet, aren’t you?”

(And if you head to Ms. Kleypas’s website, the excerpt is pretty much what follows this immediately.)

And… now I’m starting to creep myself out, because some of my favorite scenes are right around/the same as the excerpts posted on Ms. Kleypas’s site, so now… here’s more bang for the… well not buck because it’s free – but this is the scene right after the excerpt (sexcerpt? for Scandal in Spring)

Matthew knew it was wrong the instant their lips met. Because nothing would ever equal the perfection of Daisy in his arms. He was ruined for life. God help him, he didn’t care.

Her mouth was soft and hot, like sunshine, like the white blaze of a heartwood fire. She gasped as he touched her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. Slowly her hands came to his shoulders, and then he felt her fingers at the back of his head, sliding into his hair to keep him from pulling away. There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening. Nothing could have made him stop.

A tremor shook his fingers as he bracketed the exquisite line of her jaw in the open framework of his hand, gently angling her face upward. The flavor of her mouth, sweet and elusive, fueled a hunger that threatened to rage out of control…he searched the damp silk beyond her lips, deeper, harder, until she began to breathe in long sighs, her body molding against his.

He let her feel how much stronger he was, how much heavier, one muscular arm clamped along her back, his feet spread to hold her between the powerful length of his thighs. Her upper half was bound in a laced and padded corset. He was almost overcome by a savage desire to tear away the stays and quilting and find the tender flesh beneath.

Instead he sank his fingers into her pinned-up hair and tugged it backward until the weight of her head was cradled in his hand, and her pale throat was exposed. He searched for the pulse he had seen earlier, his lips dragging softly along the secret pathway of nerves beneath her skin. When he reached a sensitive spot, he felt the vibration of her suppressed moan against his mouth.

This was what it would be like to make love to her, he thought dazedly…the sweet shivering of her flesh as he entered her, the delicate chaos of her breath, the helpless sounds that rustled in her throat. Her skin, warm and female, scented like tea and talcum and a trace of salt. He found her mouth again, opened it, delving into wet silk, heat, and an intimate flavor that drove him mad.

She should have struggled, but there was only yielding and more softness, driving him past all limits. He began to ravish her mouth with deep, twisting kisses, bringing her body rhythmically against his. He felt her legs part beneath her gown, his thigh fitting neatly between them. She squirmed with innocent desire, her face blooming with the color of late summer poppies. Had she understood exactly what he wanted from her, she would have done more than blush. She would have fainted on the spot.

Lifting his mouth from hers, Matthew pressed his jaw against the side of her head. “I think,” he said raggedly, “this puts to rest any question of whether I find you desirable or not.”

So there you go – some of my favorite parts from the excellent “Wallflower” series. And… for those of you who read to the end (unless you skipped to the end and then you CHEATED, YOU WHORE) … we’re having a contest! We have a few copies of A Wallflower Christmas to give away… and also an ARC of Smooth Talking Stranger. Believe me, I’m jealous. (More posts will follow about how to get the ARC, so stick around.)

Now most importantly – how do you win A Wallflower Christmas? Comment on any post at TGTBTU that is about the Wallflowers series, or (here’s the catch) my Who Will Win pondering – but on that one you must follow the rules. And obviously this post. Let’s talk some LK love. Tell me about your favorite Wallflower, a quote, scene, etc.

There! Easy peasy! Good luck everyone, and Happy New Year!

[And remember © Lisa Kleypas. All rights reserved]

Perhaps it’s time to change directions in these discussions. Although discussing the hero is very fun, it’s not always what makes a romance. In fact, there a lot of elements that go into romance, and one of which is the point of view. Point of view? What? We’ve gone into the realm of some literary discussion here, but just go with it. . .

Think about it, point of view. It’s tricky thing. Not only the difference between reading a book in 1st or 3rd person, but the point of view of a historical heroine or a contemporary heroine. I don’t want to get ahead on this one. One step at a time.

First, seeing the world through the eyes of just one person, their feelings, expressions and actions, in a first person gives a book a different meaning than when you see things from outside of the characters as in 3rd person. Would Blue-Eyed Devil have been a different sort of book if it had been 3rd person, rather than 1st? Would Haven’s troubled life and her trials and tribulations meant less? Meant more?

After reading Blue-Eyed Devil, did anyone see the differences in Haven from Sugar Daddy? Anyone else realize that Churchill Travis through the eyes of his daughter was very different than through the eyes of Liberty? How much of that is the point of view and how much is something else?

Not only though is it just 1st or 3rd person, but the voice of a character. Just like each person has a different voice, of course characters do as well. What they deal with in a historical romance gives them a point of view on their life and times. What is dealt with in a contemporary romance will obviously give a different point of view on their life and times. How much does the setting, historical or contemporary, play into the voice and point of view of characters?

Or, as Gwen mentioned the formulation of this question, mentioned, “there’s a certain innocence in a historical POV
but there’s practicality and freedom in contemporary”. How much of that is true? Is it innocence or just the times in which the character has been put? Is there freedom in the contemporary or is it just being able to see better the point of view because it’s our time now?

Ponder away. . .

Sandy M’s review of Blue-Eyed Devil by Lisa Kleypas
Contemporary Romance Audiobook released by Brilliance Audio on 25 Mar 08

I wasn’t sure I was going to continue to like Hardy Cates because of some of his behavior in Sugar Daddy where we first meet the man. However, I knew I would like him because, well, he is the hero of this book and I know he will be redeemed. I never dreamed, though, I would like love him as much as I do after listening to the audio version of his book. Its narrator, Renée Raudman, does a brilliant job of bringing this book to life, including making Hardy one damn fine sexy hero.

First things first, though. This book is also about Haven Travis, the only daughter of millionaire Churchill Travis who has better relationships with his sons than he’ll ever have with Haven. It’s her father who thinks he trying to save her when he really pushes her into a marriage that turns horrifying with realistic scenes of domestic abuse. Haven loves Nick and is ready to marry him, but when her father refuses to give his blessing because he knows Nick is only after Haven’s money, instead of sitting down and talking with his daughter adult to adult so Haven might look at the situation differently, she jumps in with both feet despite Churchill’s threat of cutting her off from the Travis wealth. Things go well between the newlyweds only for a little while, until Nick begins to show his true colors and takes his rage out on Haven because they’re getting none of the Travis money to make his life easier. Haven does her best to make the bastard happy, and it’s when he literally throws her out on their doorstep for the night that she calls her brother Gage to help her get out of her living nightmare.

By this time Haven’s memory of her one and only meeting with Hardy is the furthest thing from her mind while she’s going through therapy, but when she runs into him again, that memory hits her full force, wondering what her life would have been like if she’d gone with the man who made her burn with passion and lust in a dark wine cellar at her brother’s wedding. And let me tell you, that scene is as sexy as hell. Between Ms. Kleypas’ writing and Ms. Raudman’s narration, a reader does’t have a snowball’s chance of getting through that scene with wanting Hardy’s hands and mouth on her.

And things only get better. Even though Haven doesn’t want anything to do with men at this certain point in her life, she’s still drawn to Hardy. Her father and brothers have nothing good to say about the man, but that doesn’t stop her. This time she knows she’s got a good man because of the way he patiently goes through her emotional roller coaster ride with her of wanting to get closer to him but still being afraid to let a man that close again. They take things slow and easy, learn about one another, and when that final trust is put in place by Haven, the long and winding road to get there is definitely worth it. For me, Hardy’s redemption comes in the many different ways he stands by Haven. Yeah, he’s sexy in the bedroom, but he’s even sexier because of the man he is.

Haven’s triumph over one of the most degrading things a man can do to a woman, Hardy finding the one woman he can share all of himself with to show the reader how he’s changed, and a cast of characters from a controlling father and later a controlling boss, a scum of man who deserves every little thing he gets, to brothers who only want their sister to be happy make for a very compelling book brought to life through audio. Ms. Raudman does an excellent job throughout the entire book, but it is those scenes with Hardy I found myself anticipating. This is one time that the hero in my head truly came to life just how I imagined him.

Grade: A+

Summary:

     MEET THE BLUE-EYED DEVIL

     His name is Hardy Cates. He’s a self-made millionaire who comes from the wrong side of the tracks. He’s made enemies in the rough-and-tumble ride to the top of Houston’s oil industry. He’s got hot blood in his veins. And vengeance on his mind.

     MEET THE HEIRESS

     She’s Haven Travis. Despite her family’s money, she refuses to set out on the path they’ve chosen for her. But when Haven marries a man her family disapproves of, her life is set on a new and dangerous course. Two years later, Haven comes home, determined to guard her heart. And Hardy Cates, a family enemy, is the last person she needs darkening her door or setting her soul on fire.

     WATCH THE SPARKS FLY….

     Filled with Lisa Kleypas’s trademark sensuality, filled with characters you love to hate and men you love to love, Blue-Eyed Devil will hold you captive in its storytelling power as the destiny of two people unfolds with every magical word.

     Listen to an excerpt.

Did you know that? ::le gasp:: you didn’t? ‘Tis Lawson’s fault. yep yep yep…. I told her to tell you… Cuz I have been sick and dying for ::counts on fingers:: drugs are fun. She forgot.

And then she got a headache and had to go night night …. Hopefully she will be all better today cuz someone has got to be well roundyere. LOL BUT to make up for our oversight… Hell do we need to? LISA KLEYPAS is going to be here Tuesday, May 13th! LOL. But just in case, here’s an excerpt of BED.

E-X-C-E-R-P-T

We stepped out of the elevator into the H-shaped layout of corridors. I turned to face Hardy, the air between us nearly crackling with challenge. “1800 Main isn’t that much better than Post Oak,” I said. “In fact, in terms of bang for the buck, you’re probably better off staying where you are.”

Hardy lifted a brow, looking amused. “Are you trying out some new kind of sales tactic on me?”

“No. I’m wondering what your ulterior motive is.”

“What’s your best guess?”

I stared straight into those fathomless eyes. “I think you’ve got some leftover hang-up about my sister-in-law.”

Hardy’s smile fled. “You’re way off on that one, honey. We never even slept together. I wish Liberty all the best, but I don’t want her that way.” He stepped closer, not touching me, but I felt like he was just about to . . . well, I didn’t know what. I felt a nervous chill chase down my back. “So take another guess,” he said. “You can’t keep me out of here if you can’t come up with a good reason for it.”

I stepped back from him and took a shaky breath. “You’re a hell-raiser,” I said. “That’s a pretty good reason.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I got all that out of my system in my twenties.”

“You look like you’ve still got some left in you.”

“No, ma’am. I’m completely tame.”

I had an inkling of what he must have been like as a naughty schoolboy, trying to convince his teacher of his innocence. And his sneaky charm was so irresistible that I had to turn away to hide a smile. “Sure you are,” I said, leading him to the apartment.

Stopping at the door, I began to punch numbers into the combination touch pad. I was suffused with an intense awareness of Hardy, so big and solid beside me. There was that scent again, insanely distracting.

I punched the last button, barely aware of what I was doing. Although I had used the combination pad a thousand times while I’d stayed there with Gage and Liberty, I must have hit a wrong number. Instead of clicking open, the lock emitted a series of beeps.

“Sorry,” I said breathlessly, trying to look anywhere but at him. “I pushed the wrong buttons. When that happens, it takes a few seconds to clear and reset. You can change the combination to any number you—”

“Haven,” he said quietly, and waited until I could bring myself to look up at him.

I gripped the door handle as if hanging on for dear life. I had to clear my throat before I could make a sound. “Wh-what?”

“Why do I make you so nervous?” His voice was soft, reaching inside me to a raw, tender place. A mocking smile touched his lips. “You afraid I’m going to make a move on you?”

I couldn’t answer. I can’t stand this, I thought desperately. Heat washed over me, color layering on color. My heart worked in painful beats. All I could do was stare at Hardy without blinking, my back pressing against the door while he bent over me. He moved closer, imparting the pressure of his body until I felt the touch of hard muscle in several places at once. I closed my eyes, mortified by the rapid gusts of my breathing.

“Then let’s get it over with,” Hardy murmured, “so you’ll stop worrying.”

His dark head bent. He eased his mouth over mine. I put my fists between us, my arms clasped over my chest in a tight blockade. I couldn’t make myself push him away, but neither could I let him hold me full-on. His arms went around me, the embrace firm but gentle, as if he were being mindful not to crush me. Our breath mingled, heat surging in restless rhythms.

His mouth shifted, catching at my top lip, then the lower one, opening them. Every time I thought the kiss might stop, it went on longer, deeper, and the back of my throat tingled as if I were being fed something sweet. I felt the silken stroke of his tongue . . . a soft taste . . . another . . . I went weak against him, dissolving in sensation.

His tenderness disarmed me until I almost forgot about the knot of fear in my stomach. I stood there breathing him, feeling him . . . but he was all around me, he could overpower me so easily if he chose. I couldn’t handle feeling that defenseless, no matter how gentle he was. Turning my mouth away from his, I broke the kiss with a whimper.

Hardy’s lips grazed the top of my head, and he released me slowly. He looked down at me, blue heat in his eyes.

“Now show me the apartment,” he whispered.

Lawson’s review of Blue-Eyed Devil by Lisa Kleypas
Contemporary romance released by St. Martin’s 25 Mar 08

Kleypas’ second contemporary romance picks up where the first one left off. It’s still in first person, it’s set in Houston, and it’s got a great Texas good ol’ boy. I’ve got to say too, the cover is fabulous. That blue sky, the red earth (though just so everyone knows the picture looks more like West Texas than Houston, and yes, that is a 700 mile difference between the two places), and those low slung jeans on a swaggering male. It just makes the heart go pitter patter. . .

Haven Travis has been trying all her life to live down her own ideas of being the daughter of a rich man. Though she’s got liberal ideas, she ends up engaged to a man her father doesn’t approve of. At her brother Gage’s wedding she meets Hardy Cates and there’s an (very sexy) incident. She goes on though to marry the man her father doesn’t approve of and ends up disowned. She’s happy with her husband though, and doesn’t mind. But her marriage soon turns sour and she ends up on the wrong end of her husband’s fist.

She comes back to Houston to the protective arms of her brothers and starts her life over. Hardy is still around though, and through her trials to overcome her abuse as well as come to copes with herself, she falls hard for Hardy (and who wouldn’t?) and has to deal with some other issues.

Through it all Haven does come across as a strong woman who put her trust in the wrong man. She’s very loving and has always been criticized by her father and mother for not living up to their expectations for her. When her ex-husband comes along she gives everything to him, not realizing his faults until too late. Which is probably the most realistic way to describe what happens to Haven. There are some things that aren’t pretty, especially some very graphic descriptions of the abuse, but it shows her strength of character more than anything.

The first person isn’t distracting, and her scenes with Hardy are very hot and sexy. He’s an upright, though very ambitious Texan man through and through. By the end, however, there are some aspects of plot devices put in for no other purpose than to throw some kinks into Haven’s life. But it doesn’t go all the way to throw in the kitchen sink as well. There’s not a lot with Gage and Liberty from Sugar Daddy, but there are some wonderful moments between Haven and Jack, her second oldest brother. Hopefully his story will be next.

A very enjoyable read, even for the first person and the small aspects of having way too much happen to Haven, but it all works in the end and there’s a great, sexy love story at the heart that shines through.

Grade: B+

     The New York Times bestselling author of Sugar Daddy is back with her most breathtaking, hot-and-bothered novel yet!

     MEET THE BLUE-EYED DEVIL     His name is Hardy Cates. He’s a self-made millionaire who comes from the wrong side of the tracks. He’s made enemies in the rough-and-tumble ride to the top of Houston’s oil industry. He’s got hot blood in his veins. And vengeance on his mind.

     MEET THE HEIRESS     She’s Haven Travis. Despite her family’s money, she refuses to set out on the path they’ve chosen for her. But when Haven marries a man her family disapproves of, her life is set on a new and dangerous course. Two years later, Haven comes home, determined to guard her heart. And Hardy Cates, a family enemy, is the last person she needs darkening her door or setting her soul on fire.

     WATCH THE SPARKS FLY. . . .     Filled with Lisa Kleypas’s trademark sensuality, filled with characters you love to hate and men you love to love, Blue-Eyed Devil will hold you captive in its storytelling power as the destiny of two people unfolds with every magical word.

     Read an excerpt.

Blue-Eyed Devil by Lisa Kleypas is following in Sugar Daddy‘s footsteps and stomping onto the New York Times List at #14.

Once – again – at 14 – just like Sugar Daddy… something most authors would die to get to say . But not Lisa.  Blue-Eyed Devil, even though it is more of a Romance than Sugar Daddy, is hitting most of the lists (like bookscan and the like) as a ‘mainstream’ title.

So what does that really mean to us readers? Not really a damn thing. Other than we get to say “Woot! You go Lisa, we knew you would do it” . And hon when you sober up after the champagne binge… We sooo need to set a date for the duckieclub!

Until then…. here have an excerpt *g*

     MEET THE BLUE-EYED DEVIL   His name is Hardy Cates. He’s a self-made millionaire who comes from the wrong side of the tracks. He’s made enemies in the rough-and-tumble ride to the top of Houston’s oil industry. He’s got hot blood in his veins. And vengeance on his mind.

     MEET THE HEIRESS   She’s Haven Travis. Despite her family’s money, she refuses to set out on the path they’ve chosen for her. But when Haven marries a man her family disapproves of, her life is set on a new and dangerous course. Two years later, Haven comes home, determined to guard her heart. And Hardy Cates, a family enemy, is the last person she needs darkening her door or setting her soul on fire.

     WATCH THE SPARKS FLY. . . .   Filled with Lisa Kleypas’s trademark sensuality, filled with characters you love to hate and men you love to love, Blue-Eyed Devil will hold you captive in its storytelling power as the destiny of two people unfolds with every magical word.

E – X – C – E – R – P – T 

I’d made it about halfway through the room when I felt Hardy come up behind me, his touch on my arm. I stiffened and turned to face him.

“Go back to Vanessa,” I told him. “If she thinks I’ve taken you away from her, I’ll be cleaning the office bathroom for the next week.”

“I wasn’t with her, I was having a drink. Was I supposed to wait alone in the corner while you were trying to make up your mind about me?”

“Not in the corner, no.” I glared at him. “But you could have at least waited five minutes before finding a replacement.”

“She wasn’t a replacement. I was waiting for you. And it took you a hell of a lot longer than five minutes to decide if you wanted to dance with me. I’m not going to take that shit from you or your family, Haven.”

“After the way you’ve behaved in the past, what do you expect? Flowers and a parade? They have every right to distrust your motives.”

“What about you? What do you think my motives are?”

“I don’t think you want me to answer that in front of all these people.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere private,” he said through clenched teeth. “Because I’m going to have an answer, by God.”

“Fine.” My mind went blank, frozen in white panic, as I felt him take my wrist. The last time I’d been handled by an angry man, I’d ended up at the hospital. But his grip, firm as it was, was not hurtful. I forced myself to relax and go along with him as he steered me through the crowd.

A female singer was crooning “Summertime,” the dark, moody melody weaving around us like smoke.

I was in a daze as we made our way out the room, past the crush in the lobby. We reached a set of doors, but we were forced to stop as someone stepped in our way. Gage. His eyes flashed as he glanced over both of us, missing no detail, including the way Hardy was gripping my wrist.

“Do you need me?” Gage asked me quietly.

Hardy looked like he was ready to commit murder. “She’s fine,” he said.

My brother paid no attention to that, only kept his gaze on me. I felt a wave of gratitude for him, understanding how difficult it was for him to let me go off with a man he despised. But Gage knew it was my choice. He was there to offer help only if I wanted it.

“It’s okay,” I said to him. “I don’t need anything.”

My brother nodded, although it was obvious he was struggling not to interfere. As we left him, he looked as if he were watching me walk off with Lucifer himself. I knew Gage was afraid for me. He didn’t trust Hardy Cates.

Neither did I, come to think of it.

Hardy pulled me past the set of doors, and around a corner, working deeper into the building until we finally stopped in some kind of maintenance stairwell, which smelled of concrete and metal and musty dankness. It was quiet except for a dripping sound, and the broken rhythms of our breathing. A light from somewhere above shed uncertain fluorescence over us.

Hardy faced me, looking huge and dark against a background of concrete. “Now,” he said brusquely, “Tell me what you wouldn’t say back there.”

I let him have it. “I think if I were anyone but a Travis, you wouldn’t give me the time of day. I think you want to show my brother Gage that if he got Liberty, you’re going to get back at him by sleeping with his sister. I think you have more hidden agendas than you can admit even to yourself. I think—”

I stopped with a gasp as he grabbed me. A wild feeling pumped through me, a mixture of fear and anger and, unbelievably, arousal.

“Wrong,” he bit out, his accent heavy and charred with scorn. “I’m not that complicated, Haven. The truth is, I’ve wanted you ever since I met you in that damned wine cellar. Because I got a bigger charge out of that five minutes than I have with any woman before or since. No secret plot against your family, Haven. No hidden agendas. Plain and simple, I’m just interested in screwing your brains out.”

My face was stiff with offended bewilderment. Before I could string a few coherent syllables together, Hardy kissed me. I pushed at him, and his mouth lifted, and he muttered something that sounded obscene, but I couldn’t quite hear it over the rampaging pulse in my ears.

He took my head in both his hands, fingers shaping around my skull. His lips found mine again. The taste and heat of him were unbearably sweet as his tongue sank into my mouth. The pleasure of it went screaming through me, hunger striking against equal hunger, creating fire. I opened to him, shaking so hard I could barely stand. His arm went around me, shielding my back from the cold press of concrete, the other hand running down the front of my body. I kissed him back, licking into his mouth the way he was doing with mine. I was feeling too much, losing control.

His mouth broke from mine, roughly searching the side of my neck. The rasp of his shaven jaw sent bolts of delight down to my stomach. I heard him mutter something to the effect that after going to a fancy college I should at least be smart enough to know when a man wanted to go to bed with me. Except that he said it a lot more crudely.

“I’m not a gentleman,” he went on, gripping my body, his breath hot on my skin. “I can’t get you into bed with fancy words or nice manners. All I can tell you is that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman. I’d break any law to have you. If you’d gone with me that night we met, I would have taken you to Galveston and kept you there for a week. And I’d have made sure you never wanted to leave.”

© Lisa Kleypas. All rights reserved

You might not have heard but Lisa Kleypas’s new book, Blue-Eyed Devil is OUT!



Lawson and I have sadly returned to real life and Lisa has traveled off to Dallas all by her lonesome. Do it is up to you guys! Go forth and flock! And tell us all about it *g*



Tis fun *g* trust us. You can find Lisa tonight @ 7pm [prolly on time since Lawson isn't driving... tra la la ] at Borders, 5615 Colleyville Blvd., Colleyville.

Seriously, this post is live. I’m sitting listening to Lisa speak about her books and her life at a Barnes & Noble in Houston. Remember, Blue-Eyed Devil is out today!

With Sybil. AND LISA effing KLEYPAS!

And Keishon showed up too, which is very nice to meet fellow romance enthusiasts.

Is it rude to be typing while the lovely Lisa is talking? Uh, maybe. . . But Syb and I have spent a wonderful afternoon with her in Houston and I just had to share.

Or make everyone jealous, most likely.

I feel though, I should request that any other questions anyone has for Lisa, please comment, and we’ll make sure they are answered as best as we can.

Soooo a contest… I had this thought about favorite books as we have been talking about Lisa Kleypas Novels in a chat group I am on.

Oddly some people, do not agree with me that Devil in Winter is the bestest evah. But Lisa just sent me an excerpt to post… to her next historical novel. Unedited… raw… and amazing….

So I have forgotten what I was going to say. I am sure it was great though. Instead I shall go beg for more format posts. And you can enter to win the prize by posting in any Lisa Kleypas Guest Day post.

Posts done by midnight will enter you into the contest. You may enter as many times as you like. There will be one winner.

Oh you prolly wanna know what you will win huh? You will win a hardcover copy of Sugar Daddy and as soon as it is available… an ARC of Blue-Eyed Devil!

You can find the summary for Blue-Eyed Devil here.