I can’t say that 2011 was a classic reading year for me. So many train wrecks and meh books. But I read a lot, and even in a good year I’ll have something to celebrate.

Sooo, here we go.

The Good

Doukakis’s Apprentice by Sarah Morgan – a quirky heroine and a staid hero makes for an amusing book, but also a love story you can follow from start to marriage.

The Highest Price to Pay by Maisey Yates – an African hero and a scarred heroine. Lovely. The story wasn’t about his color. He was happy about that, and so was everyone around him. The heroine is a fashion designer with some bad burn scars. The story doesn’t make light of them, but a yummy hero and some good research made for an absorbing read.

Loose Ends by Tara Janzen – The wonderfully imperfect and implausible Steele Street boys end their series with this book. I have read them all, and loved every one, and this last book didn’t disappoint. I had such a good time with this series.

Too Proud to be Bought by Sharon Kendrick – I love that Kendrick takes risks. Not all her books work for me, but she works on a theme of sacrifice, and sometimes for my taste, the heroine gives up a bit too much. But this book was great, not least because the heroine doesn’t take all the crap the hero wants to shove her way. She fights back.

The Man She Loves to Hate by Kelly Hunter – a ski hut, a steaming affair between two people who really shouldn’t be together and a plot that just works.

The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton by Miranda Neville – my big historical discovery of the year. I hadn’t read Neville before, but I discovered a new-to-me author to love. I did enjoy this book, and I have a review copy of her next one, which I’m saving for when I’ve done something really good. It’s funny, accurate historically, and believable.

Silk is for Seduction by Loretta Chase – so good. Chase back on form. Her sassy and adult heroine is more than a match for her hero, who needs to grow up a bit before he’s worthy of her.

Inside by Brenda Novak – romance light, but an intriguing story about an insider working in a high-security prison and the deputy governor. Exciting, edge-of-your-seat stuff, and the other three in the series are great, too.

Shameless Playboy by Caitlin Crews – one of the Bad Blood books, notable for taking some chances with the Harlequin Presents usual fare. This one took typical tropes, the playboy and the southern belle with a past, and made it memorable, and a book I just dived into and didn’t stop until the end.

Front Page Affair by Mira Lyn Kelly – a traditional style Presents that does it right.

I just noticed – no paranormals this year, although I read a fair few. That’s a shame, because I love me some good paranormals.

The Bad

The Crown Affair by Lucy King – Such a shame, after a great debut this one read rushed and contrived, as if the characters were being crammed into a plot.

One Night in London by Caroline Linden – the strangest cover of the year, beating anything Harlequin put out, and characters I could never warm to.

Star Crossed Seduction by Jenny Brown – a diatribe about astrology masquerading as a historical novel. I have nothing against it, have even tried it myself a time or two, but I prefer my historicals without lectures. And without a brain-dead heroine.

The Marriage Betrayal by Lynne Graham – the kind of Modern Romance you don’t get very often these days. Just as well, really.

The Bed and the Bachelor by Tracy Anne Warren – repeated date rape by the heroine on the clueless, supposedly brilliant hero. She gets the inexperienced man drunk and drugged and has sex with him. But the villain is holding her family to ransom until she steals a cipher from the hero. So that’s all right then.

Guarding a Notorious Lady by Olivia Parker - I didn’t believe in the premise of this book for a minute, and the heroine was beyond irritating.

His Unknown Heir by Chantelle Shaw – secret baby of the worse kind. The mother thinks she has the right to keep her pregnancy secret, because the hero has humiliated her. Then she’s surprised when the hero is angry.

Taken by Desire by Lavinia Kent – I never felt connected to the characters and by the end (it was a dnf for me) the heroine was annoying me no end.

Meddling with a Millionaire by Cat Schield – clunky storytelling and characters I really didn’t like. They were the entitled kind.

Unworldly Secretary, Untamed Greek by Kim Lawrence — secretary/boss romances are a guilty pleasure for me. I know I shouldn’t like them, but I still seek them out. This had a “take your glasses off, Miss Smith – my, you’re beautiful” heroine who I immediately hated, and head-hopping that hurt my neck.

The meh

So many. That was my problem this year. I read a lot of forgettable, average books. I want authors to take a chance, even if it ultimately fails, and I am so heartily tired of the “high concept” book that ignores everything – characterization, plot, historical accuracy, logical plot development – in favor of the god High Concept. Stop it, already. Tell me about people and the problems they have to face in finding true love. I don’t care if he’s a Regency duke or a CIA agent, I want the romance.

LynneC’s review of One Night In London by Caroline Linden
Historical Romance published by Avon 30 Aug 11

This is the start of a new series from Linden, and since she’s a new-to-me author, I was looking forward to the read. However, this one proved to be a bit of a disappointment, because of its lax pacing and lack of real conflict.

Edward de Lacey is the second son of a duke. The book starts with the old man on his deathbed and several pages of “but I must tell you my secret!” before the duke dies in good old “It was Argh!” tradition. But the secret, or part of it, is vouchsafed by the family lawyer. The duke was married before he married the mother of the three sons who consider themselves his heirs. That would illegitimise them, and so they couldn’t inherit anything that wasn’t left to them personally, and would, of course, disbar them from the entail and the title. There is a cousin, Augustus, who would be the heir.

So Edward, who is the responsible one and runs the estate, goes to London to engage a solicitor. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I think Ms. Linden has confused the roles of a solicitor and a barrister. That continued to be an annoying niggle. A great house like that of a duke would have a regular “man of business,” or solicitor, and he would take care of all the estate business and engage a barrister when necessary. People don’t go directly to barristers as a rule, and a barrister’s only job is to represent the client in court. So why Edward would want a new solicitor  who seems to do a barrister’s job when he has a perfectly serviceable solicitor is a bit nonsensical. But it does mean that he gets to meet the heroine, Francesca.

Francesca is a widow, and she wants her niece back. She believes that her niece is being held by the family of her aunt against her will and being used as a drudge, and she wants to engage a solicitor to act for her in court (which he couldn’t do, not in the higher courts, anyway). The man agrees, only to be thrown into a frenzy by getting the case from Edward about the dukedom.

There is my other disconnect, because I’ve read Bleak House, which is about a real-life case of inheritance. The lawyers throw this one into such complexities that the estate is eaten up by legal fees and lasted generations. A case like this would be nuts to the lawyers, and there is one easy solution. The Crown takes away the title and reinvests it in the eldest son as the first of the dukedom of the second creation. It happened sometimes, and it sorted out legitimacies or, otherwise, created new conditions.

Why am I going on about this? Because the book does. The first 30% (I read the ARC on my Kindle, which does percents rather than pages) is full of it and little else. There is little character development or plot development and no tension or reason to read on. I nearly gave up, but I wanted to read at least half, to see if there’s any story at all in this.
Well, not really. The story about the niece kind of peters out and has a conclusion I find a little difficult to believe. The duke problem, of course, goes on to another book.

So I always say that the romance is about the characters, right? Okay. Edward doesn’t seem to have a character, apart from being steady and boring. There is nothing to attract me to him, other than his performance in the sack. He’s tall, dark, and boring. Francesca is similarly plodding and a bit boring. She has a nice life—and there’s a word that’s used inappropriately in this book—and except for the problem of her niece, everything’s hunky-dory.  And there’s a woman called Evelyn in this story, which was a man’s name in this period.

There is quite a lot of sex in the second half of the book, as if making up for lost time.

The book is reasonably well written, and most of the historical details are nicely done, although the author didn’t really create a world for me, just bits of one. Things like the heroine’s clothes, which are described as full and frothing (in the Regency?) took me out of the story occasionally, and the “g” word crops up a time or two. My main problem with this book is the lacklustre plot and characterless characters. I wasn’t really engaged in their story.

Oh, yes, and the frankly horrible cover. What is she doing? Presenting herself for doggy-style sex? Not the author’s fault, though, so I can’t hold that against her, except that I kept putting the book to the bottom of the virtual TBR pile because of it. But I read it all, and I don’t think I’ll be aching to read the next in the series. Sorry.

Grade: D

Summary:

A bargain that was all business . . . and pure passion.

Neither wealth nor beauty will help Lady Francesca Gordon win custody of her young niece Georgina, saving the girl from a cruel stepmother; she needs London’s top solicitor for that. But when Edward de Lacey, son of the powerful Duke of Durham, hires away the one man who can do the job, Francesca decides Edward himself must champion her case . . . if only she can melt the dashing lord’s stony heart.

Edward has reason to be guarded, though. London’s tabloids have just exposed a secret that could ruin his entire family. When Francesca offers a unique chance to undo the damage, Edward is forced to agree to a partnership . . . and now, each moment together feeds the flames of his scandalous longing for the passionate widow. But when Georgina disappears, fate will test them both . . . and leave their love hanging in the balance.

No excerpt available.

Azteclady’s guest review of What a Gentleman Wants (Reece Family Trilogy, Book 1) by Caroline Linden
Historical romance released by Zebra 1 Sep 06

First in the Reece family trilogy, What a Gentleman Wants tells the story of Marcus, Duke of Exeter, and Hannah Preston, a vicar’s widow from the country. This novel is a very entertaining variation on the twins-playing-each other plot device. What a Rogue Desires, David’s story, and A Rake’s Guide to Seduction, Celia’s story, follow it.

There are so many things I like about this book; the main characters Hannah and Marcus; Molly, Hannah’s child (probably most of all, because she’s neither too precious nor too precocious); the dialogue and the pacing. There are, sadly, a couple of things I didn’t like at all, but let’s start at the beginning.

David, younger than Marcus by all of ten minutes, spends most of his life getting into all sorts of scrapes, each one worse than the last. While he resents Marcus’ constant and timely interventions in his affairs — messy as they may be — David also relies on his brother to keep saving his… bacon. These two conflicting feelings combine to inspire David to his most outrageous escapade ever — motivated by the purest of intentions, of course.

By marrying Hannah, he’s helping her avoid going back to her father’s farm — an untenable situation at best, and a horrible future for Molly under any circumstances. By forging Marcus’ name, David is getting back at his brother (and acting like a surly teen in the process — getting back at his brother for what, exactly? For helping him every time he needs help? or for not helping him without upbraiding him afterwards? Childish either way.)

I really, really like Hannah’s inner dialogue regarding David’s proposal. Usually, the marriage of convenience is used as a rather contrived way of tossing the hero and heroine together and forcing them to interact. It can work, don’t get me wrong — in the right hands, it’s a thing of beauty. But Ms Linden goes one better, and instead of having only the circumstances — or other characters — force Hannah into it, she allows the reader to see how and why it would be the better choice for Hannah, a decision she can then make freely. Or as freely, I should say, as she can, for after all this is still the early 1800s, a time where women had little choice and less freedom.

Marcus, on the other hand, has a martyr streak a mile wide. He is unflaggingly willing to put himself out — to flat out sacrifice his relationship with his stepmother and sister — in order to continuously rescue David. This was irritating as hell and rang perfectly true (reader baggage: I personally know at least one person who could give Marcus a run for his money on this behaviour). It was both infuriating, as it is in real life, to see just how far Marcus would routinely go to preserve an illusion which in real life no one would actually believe true. Of course, this being a novel, we are given to understand that both Rosalind, their stepmother, and Celia, their half sister, have been blinkered into believing that David is not the wastrel the reader knows him to be.

In this book, the second of Ms Lindon’s and the first about the Exeter siblings, her characterization of the secondary characters is not as good as it is in her latest release, A Rake’s Guide to Seduction. In this one, Rosalind comes across a bit two dimensional for almost the entire run of the novel—the only scene where she came alive for me was near the end, when things come to a head and the scales are falling of off several characters’ eyes regarding David and Marcus. By the same token, in this book Celia seems more a place holder — or even a symbol — to explain some of Marcus’ motivations, than a character in her own right.

David’s character has two major, major swings, and every time it happened, it pulled me out of the story. In different scenes — a couple of which are supposedly separated by a matter of hours, perhaps a full day — he behaves like two completely different people. And while I perceive that I was supposed to see him rising to the occasion and showing his true character… well, I didn’t. I saw a plot device. Good mechanics, decent execution, but just… I didn’t believe it. The man who in the first few pages shows himself to be irresponsible, callous, cavalier, and sullen, a chapter later becomes a considerate and thoughtful individual given to introspection and generosity. The same man then changes back into a mischievous and resentful teenager (even though he’s 32 or so), only to change back into a courageous man willing to sacrifice his life — and not metaphorically either — to save others’.

Huh, no.

Add to that the fact that the convoluted explanation he gives Marcus later in the novel, which should explain the major subplot in the story, is… well, let’s just say that Marcus himself has trouble believing that David could be dense enough to fall for what he’s saying he fell for. My incredulity matched Marcus’ here, but it grew even more when, just pages later, David is drawing accurate conclusions from rather sketchy information.

Hello, inconsistency! Enough, under most circumstances, to make me want to dislike the book.

On top of that, there’s a certain weakness in the plot — the manner in which Marcus reacts to Hannah, and his manipulation of her after Rosalind and Celia show up at his house, for example, though that is rescued by Hannah’s inner dialogue. Ms Linden relies a bit on the stereotypical villain, both in motivation and in characterization, and — as in the later book — the foreshadowing is both a tad heavy handed and unexpected because the character in question barely appears on the page until the final confrontation.

Still, it does come together well in the end, both regarding Hannah and Marcus’ relationship, and David’s imbroglio; plus the pacing and dialogue are good, and the tension between Hannah and Marcus is very well realized, which means I enjoyed this one — although definitely not as much as the third installment.

Grade: B- (7.5 out 10 using my scale)

Blurb:

Marcus Reece, duke of Exeter, doesn’t need a wife, let alone one he didn’t choose. Hannah Preston wouldn’t have chosen him, either, if she hadn’t been tricked. But in each other, they’ll both discover everything they never knew they always wanted…

Marcus has spent most of his life pulling his twin brother out of trouble. An occasional thank you would suffice; instead, his resentful sibling forges his name to a marriage license and presents him with an unwanted wife. She’s a vicar’s widow with a mind of her own who may be the first person in Marcus’ well-ordered mind to make him feel… completely out of control.

Hannah can’t help but curse her own idiocy. Dire straits have led her to the altar with a gentleman she hardly knows. Played for a fool, she’s embarrassed, furious, and worse, married to an equally outraged stranger—an exasperating man who unleashes all manner of emotions in Hannah, not to mention unwanted desire. Reluctantly, she agrees to play the wife until he can sort out the mess. But the nearness of the undeniably attractive Duke and the passion in his black eyes unsettles her well-guarded heart—making her want to do so much more than “act” the role of blissful bride…

Read an excerpt.

Other books in this series:

I had everything planned. Really, I did. Yeah, right. I had plans too. Besides meeting and chatting with all the authors I’ve gotten to know online over the past several years, I was going to write to ya’ll and let you know what’s happening. What’s stopped me? I forgot my wireless adapter for my laptop. Hmmmm. Do I have a brain? I thought my brain was intact and figured it would be so until I met my first real, live author. Maybe not. 

So I’m doing the next best thing. Paying for internet access at the Marriott. It’s better than nothing, which is what I’ve had for the last two days. Has it been worth it? Not having access to net? At all? You betcha!

I’ve had lunch with Sandy Blair and C.L. Wilson, chatted with Jade Lee, Jo Davis, Eve Silver, Caroline Linden, Jill Shalvis, Thea Devine and a multitude of other writing greats, dinner with Melissa Mayhue, chatted with aspiring authors like myself who have been nomiated for the Golden Heart, drinks with Tracy Garrett. I’ve listened to wonderful, humorous speeches by Victoria Alexander and Connie Brockway. I’ve gotten great advice from Elizabeth Hoyt and Susan Elizabeth Phillips so far. There’s still a boatload of workshops to choose from to learn so much more from those authors who I’ve admired for years. And there’s still the RITA and Golden Heart Awards Ceremony Saturday night to experience.

Talk about a dream come true. I never, ever thought I’d be doing any of this just a few short years ago. If I hadn’t listened to friends and decided to begin writing again, I wouldn’t have known RWA was going to be sorta in my backyard this year. Of course, I’m having fun more as a reader this week.

More than 500 authors were at the Literacy Signing on Wednesday night. OMG. Left and right, up and down aisle after aisle I saw Sabrina Jeffries, Cherry Adair, Jayne Ann Krentz, Lorraine Heath, Shana Abe, Stacey Kayne and so many more than my poor brain can’t even recall them all in one sitting. Who I couldn’t see because of all the people in line and surrounding them so you had to ask folks who they were in line for, Nora Roberts and Sherrilyn Kenyon just to name a couple. That’s okay though this time around. My noggin probably would have exploded if I’d seen them up close and personal!

Despite the tiredness and the sore feet, I’m in heaven. As usual, time is going way too fast and I’ll be headed home before I know it, but I’m going with a myriad of memories that will last me a lifetime. Usually when I come to San Francisco for a visit, I’m the common tourist roaming through Fisherman’s Wharf, Piccadilly Square, riding the cable cars, taking a crooked drive down Lombard Street, eating shirimp cocktails while watching waves roll across the ocean. Haven’t missed that a bit this time. And I won’t think of San Francisco in the same way ever again.

Time to go! Have more authors to meet! I’ll chat with ya’ll when I’m back home and recovered from the trip of my dreams!

Caroline Linden‘s review of Hidden by Eve Kenin
Science fiction romance released by Shomi 1 Jul 08

Sometimes you come across a book that’s just impossible to accurately describe. Like Eve Kenin’s HIDDEN: “It’s a book set in a post-apocalyptic future, in Siberia…about a woman who was raised in a lab…and there’s a deadly plague that turns people into cannibalistic zombies…and ice pirates…and oh yeah, a rogue scientist who studies philosophy while he tries to save the world.” Screams romance, no? Think again, because this is not only a fabulous read, it’s taut, sexy adventure at its finest.

HIDDEN zooms back to the Northern Wasteland introduced in DRIVEN, the bleak frozen place Earth has become after a series of (probably nuclear) wars. It’s unforgiving and nearly lawless, with pirates and evil masterminds and rebels circling each other in a brutal struggle. Human life has both advanced and regressed, with impressive medical advances balanced against the utter social decay that has pushed large parts of humanity to the edge of survival. Just like the heroine and hero.

Tatiana has been a medical experiment most of her life, raised by computers and subjected to all sorts of procedures that leave her with some seriously enhanced physical abilities. Of course, it’s also left her with little experience of how humans behave and interact. When she finally escapes from the lab, she sets off on a quest to destroy the people who almost destroyed her, Gavin Ward and a scientist called Tolliver. Gavin Ward, she knows where to find; he’s trying to find–and dissect–her just as hard as she’s trying to avoid him. But Tolliver is a mystery, and yet the key to her desperate attempt to stop a debilitating virus, manufactured from her own genetic material, from being unleashed by Ward on his enemies. And yeah, she plans to waste Ward in the process.

Tristan is a rebel, hiding out in the Wastes with a dangerous mission of his own–nothing less than saving the human race. Unlike Tatiana, he’s deeply alive to emotion and empathy, and knows just how much Ward’s plague threatens humanity, even beyond just bringing death and suffering to its victims. When Tristan’s path crosses Tatiana’s, it’s intrigue at first sight for both of them. After spending her entire adolescence locked in a dungeon (oh my God! Can you imagine?!?),Tatiana feels the first pull of sexual attraction in her life, and watching her deal with it, trying to figure out how to be human and a woman, was quite moving. Inside Tatiana’s highly logical, genetically enhanced body beats a very human heart after all. And while Tristan notes her ethereal eyes, silky hair, and tight figure, it’s the almost superhuman way she dispatches two tough ice truckers twice her size that really snares his interest. Unusual girl, he thinks.

Honey, you have no idea.

Can I just say that’s possibly what I loved most about Tristan? His first thought was not how he wanted to get her into bed, it was, “Damn, that girl’s good in a fight.” Tristan’s no fool, and although Tatiana does appeal to his sex drive, the instant respect he has for her was fabulous. He feels responsible for the small band of rebels hiding out with him, and the fact that he doesn’t have to worry about Tatiana–in fact, that he can even lean on her from time to time–puts their relationship ahead of many couples’ (and not just romance novel ones). Also, although the story is weighted more toward action and adventure than most romances, the romance is pitch-perfect between these two warrior souls. When the only way out of a tight spot is a long climb up a laser-shielded elevator shaft, Tatiana is the one better equipped to do it. Tristan not only agrees to this, not only boosts her up so she can get started, he tells her the most important thing: come back to me. Nope, no sweet, tender “I love you,” but a command that nonetheless expresses perfectly how he feels without beating anyone over the head about it.

Because these two are perfect for each other just as they are. There’s no excess emotional outpouring on either side, just a realization that they each want the other at their back. For once the cover illustration is amazingly accurate. And the pacing is relentless, with no wasted scenes. This is a book that you open intending to read a few chapters, and then look up to realize you’ve read the whole thing almost without stopping to breathe. You can’t help cheering for Tristan and Tatiana as they fight what’s worst in humanity, to find–and save–what’s best.

HIDDEN is romance for the adventurous. If you lusted after Han Solo, this book is for you. If you wanted to be out fighting the dragon instead of locked in the ivory tower, this book is for you. It’s DRIVEN with an added philosophical touch, action and adventure with a jolt of red-hot romance.

Grade: Solid gold A

Summary:
Tatiana has honed her genetic gifts to perfection. She can withstand the subzero temperatures of the Northern Waste, read somebody’s mind with the briefest touch, and slice through bone with her bare hands. Which makes her one badass chick, all right. Nothing gets to her. Until she meets Tristan. Villain or ally, she can’t be sure. But one thing she does know: he has gifts too-including the ability to ramp up her heart rate to dangerous levels. But before they can start some chemistry of their own, they have to survive being trapped in an underground lab, hunted by a madman, and exposed to a plague that could destroy mankind.
Read an excerpt here

Liviania‘s review of What A Gentleman Wants by Caroline Linden
Historical romance released 01 Sept 06 from Zebra

I began reading Caroline Linden with her newest release, A Rake’s Guide to Seduction, which features Celia. I enjoyed Linden’s voice and the sweet romance and thus bought the next book of hers I could find. That turned out to be What a Gentleman Wants, the story of Celia’s oldest brother Marcus.

Hannah Preston is about to become homeless. She lives in the vicarage, but a new vicar is coming to the village since her husband died. If she doesn’t come up with some means of supporting herself, she and her daughter Molly will be in dire straits. Enter David Reece, a lord and rogue. He enjoys her company and offers to marry her for convenience. But when one of his old friends shows up he realizes how much freedom he would be giving up by marrying the virtuous Hannah. Thus he impersonates his twin brother Marcus Reece on the wedding day and leaves Hannah in the home where Marcus used to keep his mistress.

Marcus is not just any lord. He’s the Duke of Exeter and he’s unamused by his brother’s latest “joke.” For their entire lives he’s been covering for David, and he’s beginning to tire of it. First, though, he has to uncover a counterfeiting ring with which David might be involved. It might not matter that he’s unamused, because David informed the family. Stepmother Rosalind and half-sister Celia are true romantics and could not be happier Marcus found love. And Marcus is nothing if not a martyr for his family.

Now, martyrs are often the most annoying characters. Marcus balances it out by being one of my favorite types of romantic hero. He has a stern manner and seems imposing, but there are any number of people who know he’s nothing but a bunch of marshmallow fluff (deep) inside. Without his devotion to his family he might be one of those a-holes that passes himself off as an alpha hero, but Linden manages to imbue him with a balance of traits. Hannah is also quite likable. She’s meek and understands her social position in relation to Exeter’s, but she does not act like a doormat.

Linden’s weak point is creating a plot outside of the romance. The counterfeiting plot is serviceable, but I forgot it was happening during scenes where it wasn’t a factor – which was most of the book. Plus, she had to make David look stupid to pull it off. He was impulsive and relied on his brother to solve his problems, yes, but I otherwise did not get the impression of stupidity. The plot looks weak partially because Linden carries the romance off so well. When trying to articulate why the counterfeiting aspect does not quite work, I have trouble pinning down just why. Yet when reading the novel it is easy to see how Hannah and Marcus’s relationship overshadows it until it factors into the climax.

What a Gentleman Wants is a comforting read, with a little bit of action and a lot of relationship.

Grade: B+

Marcus Reece, duke of Exeter, doesn’t want a wife, let alone one he didn’t choose. Hannah Preston wouldn’t have chosen him, either, if she hadn’t been tricked. But in each other, they’ll both discover everything they never knew they always wanted…

Click on the Caroline Linden tag to read reviews of her books and other posts.

DING, DING, DING!

We have a winner (or three)!

Click on the cut to see who will win a copy of A Rake’s Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden, to be released 3 June 2008 by Zebra Books. And the winners are…

Maureen

Andrea

Ann M.

Thanks to all who weighed in on the rakes vs. rogues question. Congrats to the winners! Please email your names and mailing info to redwyne (at) gmail (dot) com. Please put “Caroline Linden Contest” in the subject line.

A RAKE’S GUIDE TO SEDUCTION

Anthony Hamilton is the most scandalous man in London, a gambler, a fortune hunter, an infamous rake. Celia Reece is sure he’s never had one thought of her, except as his friend David’s younger sister. Who would ever guess she’s the only woman he’s ever loved…and can never have…

You can read an exclusive excerpt here.

A Rake’s Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden will be released 3 June 2008 by Zebra Books.

To paraphrase Sybil, We have a contest! We have a contest! We have a contest! (sang to “nanny nanny boo boo” or “neener neener neener” – whichever comes to you first)

Anthony Hamilton is the most scandalous man in London, a gambler, a fortune hunter, an infamous rake. Celia Reece is sure he’s never had one thought of her, except as his friend David’s younger sister. Who would ever guess she’s the only woman he’s ever loved…and can never have…

You can read an exclusive excerpt here. We have three ARC’s of A Rake’s Guide to Seduction to award to three lucky readers. To enter, you must answer one of Devon’s discussion questions of doom…{Contest is over.  Thanks for entering!}

What is a rogue? How do they differ from rakes? Gimme some great rogues!

A Rake’s Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden will be released 3 June 2008 by Zebra Books.

We have an excerpt! We have an excerpt! We have an excerpt! (said in a sing-songy voice, much like ‘nanny nanny boo boo’)

Anthony Hamilton is the most scandalous man in London, a gambler, a fortune hunter, an infamous rake. Celia Reece is sure he’s never had one thought of her, except as his friend David’s younger sister. Who would ever guess she’s the only woman he’s ever loved…and can never have…

( Oooh, I love plots where the hero has secretly loved the heroine for years. )

Chapter One (which isn’t even on my website yet. Hmm…)
[As if you needed more evidence of Sybil's black magic]

Anthony Hamilton was born scandalous, and his reputation did not improve as he grew.

He was the only son of the earl of Lynley, but it was almost a proven fact that he was not Lynley’s own child. Lady Lynley, a much younger woman than her husband, had not borne a child in the first ten years of her marriage, and then, out of the blue, gave birth to a strapping, handsome lad who didn’t look a thing like Lord Lynley, nor any of the Hamiltons for that matter. Lynley had not repudiated his wife or the child, but the fact that Lady Lynley and her son spent most of their time away from Lynley Court seemed proof of…something.

Mr. Hamilton had been a thoroughly wild boy as well. He was asked to leave no fewer than three schools-mostly for fighting, but once for cheating a professor at cards. He had finished his education at Oxford in record time, then set himself up in London to begin a life that could only be called, in hushed tones, depraved and immoral. That was when he had stopped using his courtesy title as well; he no longer allowed people to call him Viscount Langford, as befitted the Lynley heir, but insisted on being plain Mr. Hamilton. That, combined with his regular appearances at high stakes gaming tables and the steady stream of wealthy widows and matrons he kept company with, painted him blacker than black, utterly irredeemable, and absolutely, deliciously, fascinating to the ton.

There was the time he wagered everything he owned, including the clothing he was wearing at the time, at the hazard table, and somehow walked away with a small fortune. There was his infamous, but vague, wager with Lady Nicols-no one quite seemed to know the precise details-which ended with Lady Nicols handing him her priceless rubies in the midst of a ball at Carleton House. There was the time Sir Henry Milton accused him of siring the child Lady Milton carried at the time; Mr. Hamilton simply smiled, murmured a few words in Sir Henry’s ear, and within an hour the two men were sharing a bottle of wine, for all the world as if they were bosom friends. He was reputed to be on the verge of being taken to the Fleet one night, and as rich as Croesus the next. He was a complete contradiction, and he only inflamed the gossips’ interest by being utterly discreet. For such a wicked man, he was remarkably guarded.

Celia Reece heard all the stories about him. Despite her mother’s admonitions, Celia had developed a fondness for gossip in her first Season in London, and all the best bits seemed to involve him in one way or another. While Anthony Hamilton might not be-quite-the most scandalous person in London, he was the most scandalous person she knew, and as such she found his exploits hugely entertaining.

He had been friends with her brother David for as long as Celia could remember, and had often come to Ainsley Park, the Reece family estate, for school holidays. As he had grown more and more disreputable, he had stopped visiting-Celia suspected her mother banned him from coming-but she still remembered him fondly, almost as an extra brother. He had tied her fishing lines and helped launch her kites, and it gave her no end of amusement that he was now so wicked, young ladies were afraid to walk past him alone.

Naturally, his reputation meant that she was never to speak to him again. Celia’s mother, Rosalind, had drummed it into her daughter’s head that proper young ladies did not associate with wicked gentlemen. Celia had restrained herself from pointing out that her own brother was every bit as wild as Mr. Hamilton, but she had obeyed her mother for the most part. She was having a grand time in her first Season, and didn’t want to do anything to spoil it, particularly not anything that would get her sent back to Ainsley Park in disgrace for associating with wicked gentlemen.

Fortunately, there were so many other gentlemen to choose from. As the daughter and now sister of the duke of Exeter, Celia was a very eligible young lady. The earl of Cumberland sent her lilies every week. Sir Henry Avenall sent her roses. The duke of Ware had asked her to dance more than once, Viscount Graves had taken her driving in the Park, and Lord Andrew Bertram wrote sonnets to her. It was nothing less than exhilarating, being courted by so many gentlemen.

Tonight, for instance, Lord Euston was being very attentive. The handsome young earl was a prime catch, with an estate in Derbyshire and a respectable fortune. He was also a wonderful dancer, and Celia loved to dance. When he approached her for the third time, she smiled at him.

“Lady Celia, I should like to have this dance.” He bowed very smartly. He had handsome manners, too.

Celia blushed. He must know she couldn’t possibly dance with him again. “Indeed, sir, I think I must refuse.”

He didn’t look surprised or disappointed. “I think you must as well. Would you consent to take a turn on the terrace with me instead?”

A turn on the terrace-alone with a gentleman! She darted a glance at her mother, several feet away. Rosalind was watching, and gave a tiny nod of permission, with an approving look at Lord Euston. Her stomach jumped. She had never taken a private stroll with a gentleman. She excused herself from her friends, all of whom watched enviously, and put her hand on Lord Euston’s arm.

“I am honored you would walk with me,” he said as they skirted the edge of the ballroom.

“It is my pleasure, sir.” She smiled at him, but he merely nodded and didn’t speak again. They stepped through the open doors, into the wonderfully fresh and cool night air. Instead of remaining near the doors, though, Lord Euston kept walking, leading her toward the far end of the terrace, where it was darker and less crowded. Far less crowded; almost deserted, really. Celia’s heart skipped a beat. What did he intend? None of her other admirers had kissed her. Lord Euston wasn’t quite her favorite among them, but it would be immensely flattering if he tried to kiss her. And shouldn’t she have some practice at kissing?

Celia’s curiosity flared to life, and she stole a glance at her companion. He was a little handsomer in the moonlight, she thought, trying to imagine what his lips would feel like. Would it be pleasant, or awkward? Should she be modest and retiring, or more forward? Should she even allow him the liberty at all? Should-?

“There is something I must say to you.” Celia wet her lips, preparing herself, still trying to decide if she would allow it. But he made no move toward her. “Lady Celia,” he began, laying one hand on his heart, “I must tell you how passionately I adore you.”

She hadn’t quite expected that. “Oh. Er… Oh, indeed?”

“Since the moment I first saw you, I have thought of nothing but you,” he went on with growing fervor. “My will is overruled by fate. To deliberate would demean my love, which blossomed at first sight.” He took her hand, looking at her expectantly.

“I-I am flattered, sir,” she said after a pregnant pause.

“And do you adore me?” he prompted. Celia’s eyes widened in confusion.

“I-Well, that is…I…” She cleared her throat. “What?”

“Do you adore me?” he repeated with unnerving intensity.

No. Of course she didn’t. He was handsome and a wonderful dancer, and she probably would have let him steal a chaste kiss on the cheek, but adore him? No. She wished she hadn’t let him lead her all the way out here. What on earth was she to do now? “Lord Euston, I don’t think this is a proper thing to discuss.”

He resisted her gentle attempts to pull free of his grasp. “If it is maidenly reserve that prevents you saying it, I understand. If it is fear of your family’s disapproval, I understand. You have but to say one word, and I will wait a thousand years for you.”

“Oh, please don’t.” She pulled a little harder, and he squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“Or you might say another word, and we could go to His Grace tonight. We could be married before the end of the Season, my dearest Lady Celia.”

“Ah, but-but my brother’s away from town,” she said, edging backward. Euston followed, pulling her toward him, now gripping her one hand in his two.

“I shall call on him the moment he returns.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Celia whispered.

“Your modesty enthralls me.” He crowded nearer, his eyes feverish.

“Oh dear…”

“Sweet Celia, make me immortal with a kiss!” Celia grimaced, and turned her face aside from his. She was never going to dance with Lord Euston again. What a wretched first kiss this would be.

“Good evening,” said an affable new voice just then.

Lord Euston released her at once, recoiling a step as he spun around toward the intruder. Celia put her freed hands behind her, suddenly horrified at what she had done. Goodness-she was alone, in the dark, with an unmarried gentleman-if they were discovered here, she could be ruined.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” said Anthony Hamilton as he strolled up, a glass of champagne in each hand.

“Yes,” said Euston stiffly. Celia closed her eyes, relief flooding her as she recognized her savior. Surely he, of all people, would understand and not cause trouble for her.

“Lady Celia. A pleasure to see you again.” He gave her a secretive smile, as if he knew very well what he had interrupted and found it highly amusing.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she murmured, bobbing a curtsey. For a moment everyone stood in awkward silence.

“We should return to the ball.” Lord Euston extended his hand to her, pointedly not looking at the other man.

“No!” Celia exclaimed without thinking. Euston froze, startled. She flushed. “I shall return in a moment, sir,” she said more politely, grasping for any excuse not to go with him. “The air is so fresh and cool.”

“Yes,” said Euston grimly. He didn’t look nearly so handsome anymore. “Yes. I see. Good evening, Lady Celia.”

Celia murmured a reply, willing him to leave. “Good evening, Euston,” added Mr. Hamilton.

Lord Euston jerked, darting a suspicious glance at Mr. Hamilton. “Good evening, sir.” He hesitated, gave Celia a deeply disappointed look, then walked away.

Celia swung around, bracing her hands on the balustrade that encircled the terrace. Good heavens. That had not turned out at all the way she had expected. Why had her mother approved of him?

“That,” said Mr. Hamilton, leaning against the balustrade beside her, “may be the worst marriage proposal I have ever heard.”

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. It didn’t work. The giggles bubbled up inside her, and finally burst free. She pressed one hand to her mouth. “I suppose you heard everything he said?”

“I suppose,” he agreed. “Including the part he stole from Marlowe.”

“No! Really?” Celia gasped. He just smiled, and she groaned. “You mustn’t repeat it to anyone.”

“Of course not,” he said in mild affront. “I should be ashamed to say such things aloud. It would quite ruin my reputation.” Celia laughed again, and he smiled. “Would you care for some champagne?”

“Thank you.” She took the glass he offered, and sipped gratefully.

He set the other glass on the balustrade and leaned on his elbows, surveying the dark gardens in front of them. “So you weren’t trying to bring Euston up to scratch?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She snorted, then remembered she wasn’t supposed to do that. “I would never have walked out with him if I’d thought he meant to propose.”

“Why did you, then?” He glanced at her, his expression open and relaxed, inviting confidence. Celia sighed, sipping more champagne.

“He’s a wonderful dancer,” she said.

“And a dreadful bore,” he said in the same regretful tone. Celia looked at him in shock, then burst out laughing.

“That’s dreadful of you to say, but-but-well, perhaps he is.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured.

“And now he is probably telling my mother.” She sighed. Walking out with Lord Euston, with her mother’s permission, was one thing; lingering in the darkness with a man-let alone a notorious rake her mother strenuously disapproved of-was another. “I really should return.”

“Did you want him to kiss you, then?”

She stopped in the act of turning to go. He was still facing the gardens, away from her, but after a moment had passed and she said nothing, he glanced at her. “Did you?” he asked again, his voice a shade deeper.

Celia drew closer. He turned, now leaning on one elbow, his full attention fixed on her. She didn’t know another gentleman who could appear so approachable. She had forgotten how easy he was to talk to. “You mustn’t laugh at me, Anthony,” she warned, unconsciously using his Christian name as she had done for years. “I-I’ve never been kissed before, and it seemed like the perfect night for it, and…well, until he started demanding to know if I adored him, it was quite romantic. It was,” she protested as his mouth curved. “We can’t all be disreputable, with all sorts of scandalous adventures.”

His smile stiffened. “Nor should you be.”

“But you should?” She grinned, glad to be teasing him instead of the other way around. “Every gossip in London adores you, you know.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m neither so daring nor so foolish as they like to think. Perhaps you, as a pillar of propriety, can tell me how to escape their pernicious notice.”

“Why, that is easy,” she said with a wave of one hand. “Find a girl, fall desperately in love with her, and settle down to have six children and raise dogs. No one will say a word about you then.”

Anthony chuckled. “Ah, there’s the rub. What you suggest is more easily said than done, miss.”

“Have you ever tried?”

He shrugged. “No.”

“Then how can you say it’s so difficult?” she exclaimed. “There are dozens of young ladies looking for a husband, you must simply ask one-”

He gave a soft tsk. “I couldn’t possibly.”

“You could.”

“I couldn’t.”

Celia’s eyes lit. “That sounds almost like a challenge.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, then grinned. “It’s not. Don’t try your matchmaking on me. I’m a hopeless case.”

“Of course you’re not,” she said stoutly. “Why, any lady in London-”

“Would not suit me, nor I her.”

“Miss Weatherby,” said Celia.

“Too thin.”

“Lady Jane Cranston.”

“Too tall.”

“Miss Alcomb.”

“Too…” He paused, his gaze sharpening on her as he thought, and Celia opened her mouth, ready to exclaim in delight that he could find no fault with Lucinda Alcomb, who was a very nice girl. “Too merry,” he said at last.

“Who would please you, then?” she burst out, laughing at his pleasant obstinacy.

He shifted, his eyes skipping across the garden again. “No one, perhaps.”

“You aren’t even trying to be fair. I know so many nice young ladies-”

Anthony gave a sharp huff. “This is quite a dull topic of conversation. We’ve had very fine weather this spring, don’t you think?”

“Anyone who took the trouble to know you would accept you,” Celia insisted, ignoring his efforts to turn the subject.

“You’ve gone and ruled out every woman in England.” He leaned over the railing, squinting into the darkness.

“Except myself,” Celia declared, and then she stopped. Good heavens, what had she just said?

Anthony seemed shocked as well. His head whipped around, and he stared at her with raised eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

Heat rushed to her face. “I-I meant that I know you, and know you’re not half so bad as you pretend to be.”

His gaze was riveted on her, so dark and intense Celia scarcely recognized him for a moment. Goodness, it was just Anthony, but for a moment, he was looking at her almost like…

“Not half so bad,” he murmured speculatively. “A rare compliment, if I do say so myself.”

She burst out laughing again, relieved that he was merely teasing her. That expression on his face-rather like a wolf’s before he sprang-unsettled her; it had made her think, for one mad moment, that he might, in fact, spring on her. And even worse, Celia realized that a small, naughty part of her was somewhat curious. No, rampantly curious. She might have let Lord Euston kiss her, but only for the satisfaction of being able to say she had been kissed. She had never expected to be swept away with passion by Lord Euston, who was, as Anthony had said, a dreadful bore. But a kiss from one of the most talked-about rakes in London…now, that would be something else altogether.

“You know what I meant,” she said, shaking off that curiosity as shocking and obviously forbidden. “I know you’ve quite a soft heart, although you hide it very well. As proof, I must point out that you’ve stood out here with me for some time now, trying to make me feel better after receiving the most appalling marriage proposal of all time. David would have laughed until he couldn’t stand upright, and then retold the tale to everyone he met.”

“Ah, but I am not your brother,” he replied, smiling easily although his gaze lingered on her face.

She was glad he couldn’t see her blush. “No, indeed! But because you are not”-she took the last sip of champagne from her glass before setting it on the balustrade-”I must return to the ballroom. I suppose you’ll continue to skulk in the shadows out here, and be appropriately wicked?”

“You know me too well.”

Celia laughed once more. “Good night, Anthony. And thank you.” She flashed him a parting smile, and hurried away. Perhaps if she could make her mother see the humor, and idiocy, in Lord Euston’s proposal, Mama wouldn’t ask too many questions about where she’d been ever since.

# # #

Anthony listened to her rapid footsteps die away, counting every one. Seventeen steps, and then she was gone. He folded his arms on the balustrade once again, taking a deep breath. The faint scent of lemons lingered in the air. He wondered why she smelled of lemons and not rosewater or something other ladies wore.

“You gave away my champagne, I see,” said a voice behind him.

Anthony smiled and held out the untouched glass sitting next to his elbow. “No. I gave away mine.”

Fanny, Lady Drummond, took it with a coy look. “Indeed.” She turned, looking back at the house. “A bit young for your taste.”

“An old friend,” he said evenly. “The younger sister of a friend. Euston was giving her a spot of trouble.”

“Better and better,” exclaimed Fanny. “You are a knight in shining armor.”

Anthony shrugged. “Hardly.”

“Now, darling, I wouldn’t blame you.” She ran her fingers down his arm. “She’s the catch of the season. Rumor holds her marriage portion is two hundred thousand pounds.”

“How do the gossips ferret out such information?”

“Persistent spying, I believe. Fouché’s agents would have been put to shame by the matrons of London.” Fanny rested the tip of her fan next to her mouth, studying him. “For a moment, I thought you had spotted your chance.”

Anthony tightened his lips and said nothing. The less said on this topic, the better. The scent of lemons was gone, banished by Fanny’s heavier perfume. “Have you?” pressed Fanny as the silence lengthened. She moved closer, her face lighting up with interest. “Good Lord. The greatest lover in London, pining for a girl?”

He turned to her. “She’s just a girl,” he said. “I’ve known her since she was practically a babe, and yes, I am fond of her. Fanny, you would understand if you’d heard what Euston was saying to her. I spoke as much to close his mouth as anything else.”

“And yet, there was something else,” she replied archly. He sighed in exasperation. She laughed, laying her hand on his. “Admit it, you’ve thought of it. She would solve all your problems, wouldn’t she? Money, connection, respectability…”

He pulled his hand free. “Yes, all I would have to do is persuade the duke of Exeter to give his consent, overcome the dowager duchess’s extreme dislike of me, and then ask the lady herself to choose me above all her respectable, eligible suitors. I don’t take odds that long, Fanny.”

She smirked. “She was a girl a moment ago. Now she’s a lady.” Anthony looked at her in undisguised irritation. Fanny moved closer, so close her breath warmed his ear. “I wouldn’t fault you for trying, darling,” she murmured. “It needn’t alter our relationship in any way…in fact, why don’t you call on me tonight…later…and we can continue that relationship.”

“You’ll want to hear the news from Cornwall, I expect.”

Fanny pouted at his deliberate change of subject, but she let it go. “I don’t believe I would have let you seduce me if I’d known you simply wanted me to invest in some mining venture.” He cocked a brow at her. “All right,” she gave in with a knowing smile. “I would have still let you seduce me, but I would have asked for better terms.”

“I like to think we shall always be on the best of terms with each other.” He brought her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. Fanny’s expression softened even more.

“I suppose we shall. Interest terms…and other terms.”

Anthony smiled, ruthlessly forcing his moment of gallantry from his mind, along with everything else related to Celia Reece. Fanny might make light of it, but he needed every farthing she would invest, and Anthony knew how to work to protect that.

He related the report from the mine manager, knowing Fanny, unlike many woman, truly wanted to know how her money was faring. She had a sharp mind for business, and they shared a profitable relationship. Their other relationship was almost as valuable to him-Fanny lived in the present, and didn’t dwell on the past, especially not his past. That mattered a great deal to Anthony.

But when Fanny had gone back to the ball, Anthony found his mind wandering. Although Fanny was nearly fifteen years older than he, she was still a very handsome woman, with a tart wit and a marvelous sense of humor. She had a sophistication no young lady just making her debut could claim, and Anthony genuinely liked her. He liked the way her money made his financial schemes successful. He liked her acceptance of their intermittent affair with no recriminations or demands. But she didn’t smell of lemons.

He pushed away from the balustrade, restless and tired at the same time. His plans for the evening had included some time in the card room, where he hoped to win a few months’ rent, but he suspected he couldn’t concentrate on his cards now. Damn lemons.

With a deep sigh, Anthony turned back toward the house. He repeated in his mind what he had told Fanny: Celia was just a girl; he spoke to her out of mere kindness. He tried not to hear the echo of Celia’s words, that she was the only woman in England who thought him…how had she put it…’not half so bad as he pretended.’

He slipped into the overheated ballroom, lingering near the door. Without meaning to, he saw her. She was dancing with another young buck like Euston. Her pink gown swirled around her as her partner turned her, her golden curls gleaming in the candlelight. Anthony’s gaze lingered on her back, where her partner’s hand was spread in a wide, proprietary grip. The young man was delighted to be dancing with her-and why shouldn’t he be? She beamed up at him, smiling at whatever he’d said to her, and Anthony realized, with a small shock of alarm, that she was breathtaking. No longer a child or a young girl, but a beautiful young woman who would walk out with a gentleman in hopes of a kiss and end up fending off a marriage proposal.

He turned away from the dancers, continuing on his way without another glance back. He wound his way through the crowd, out through the hall, pausing only to collect his things, then down the steps into the night. He kept going, past the lines of waiting carriages, strolling along at an unhurried pace through the streets of London. The early spring air was fresh and crisp; it was a lovely night to walk, but Anthony didn’t walk to enjoy the weather.

At last he reached his lodging, a rented flat in a house just clinging to the edge of respectability. Up the stairs he climbed to his plain, simply furnished rooms. Since sinking most of his funds into the tin mines, he had had to cut his expenses to the bone. There was little of luxury or comfort in his rooms, certainly nothing to tempt a duke’s daughter. His lip curled derisively at his own thoughts as he shrugged off his jacket and unwound his cravat. There was little of anything in his life to tempt any lady.

And yet…

Except me, rang Celia’s words in his mind. No lady in London would accept him…except me, whispered her voice. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and tossed it on a nearby chair. Everyone saw him as a wastrel and a hedonist…except me, whispered her voice. Anthony pulled open his collar and yanked the shirt over his head. His skin felt hot and prickly. “She’s your friend’s younger sister,” he told himself out loud. “Practically your own sister.” But it did no good.

He could still close his eyes and see Celia as a red-cheeked little girl, handing him the last scone from tea wrapped in a handkerchief. He could still hear her angry tears when her brother had insisted she stay behind while they went fishing. And he could still see the glimpse of ankle as she danced, the curve of bosom as she curtsied to her partner, and the gleam of moonlight on her blonde curls.

Anthony had liked Celia Reece very much as a girl, but he had never allowed himself to think of her as a woman. Ladies like Celia were not for him. And so long as she remained fixed in his mind as just a girl, everything had been fine. Tonight, though, he found with alarm that he could think of her as nothing but a woman-a young woman, to be certain, but a woman all the same. She had wanted to be kissed tonight, and Anthony knew just how easily he could have been the man to do it. Except me, echoed her voice again, and he remembered how her face changed when he looked at her then. She hadn’t meant it that way when she said it, but he had seen the flush of awareness on her cheeks and the spark of interest in her eyes. And that awareness, to say nothing of the interest, just might have sealed his fate, forever ending any brotherly feelings he had for her.

He splashed cold water from the ewer on his face, letting it run down his neck and chest. Even if Celia would accept him, her family would never allow it. Surely not…except that the duke of Exeter had made a rather odd marriage himself last year, to a penniless widow from a country village. And Celia’s other brother had married even lower. Lady David, Anthony knew, had been a common pickpocket at one time.

If the Reeces could overlook the lack of fortune, family, standing, and even respectability, perhaps…just perhaps…they could accept him as well.

Anthony Hamilton, widely regarded as the most scandalous rogue in London, lay down on his narrow bed alone, and contemplated having six children and raising dogs.

Ok I am going to work toward getting all the nifty prizes logged today and we will start giving them out. Some of them will go to random comment in a post with these icons. WHAT icons?

SSE EXCERPT: Dear Santa by Karen Templeton

EXCERPT Part II: Thigh High: Thigh High by Bonnie Edwards

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: The Love Letter by Linda Broday

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: No Time for Love by Phyliss Miranda

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: A Shade of Sunrise by DeWanna Pace

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: Amarillo By Morning by Jodi Thomas

EXCERPT Part III: Thigh High: Twinkle Twinkle Little Thong by Bonnie Edwards

Excerpt from Viking Warrior, Unwilling Wife by Michelle Styles
new historical release from Mills & Boone with a UK release in June 2008

Yours, Mine…or Ours is book two in Karen Templeton’s Guys & Daughters series (Dear Santa, Yours, Mine…or Ours? and Baby, I’m Yours)

Excerpt of Taken by the Viking by Michelle Styles, coming 1 May!!
Historical romance released by Harlequin 1 May 2008

Excerpt Unlawful Contact by Pamela Clare aka the one to steam the screen

I am missing some and will add them tomorrow (I see Kresley Cole’s aren’t here). More excerpts to come from Lisa Kleypas, Jill Shalvis, Lynne Connolly, Stephanie Tyler, Caroline Linden, HelenKay Dimon, EC Sheedy, Liz Carlyle, Hope Tarr, Lora Leigh, Sabrina Jeffries, Jenna Petersen, Laura Drewry, Sydney Croft, Roxanne St. Claire, Jennifer Estep, Cheryl St.John and many more….

As well as some nifty prizes from t-shirts and books *g*. Some you will have to answer questions from the excerpts and other will be random drawings from the comments.

first recap can be found here

How Flashdance… LOL 

It’s Raining Excerpts!EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: Secrets of Surrender by Madeline HunterEXCERPT Part I: Thigh High: Parlor Games by Bonnie Edwards

EXCERPT: Phantom Pleasures by Julie Leto

EXCERPT Part I: Unlawful Contact
EXCERPT Part II: Unlawful Contact
EXCERPT Part III: Unlawful Contact
EXCERPT Part IV: Unlawful Contact

SSE EXCERPT: Dear Santa by Karen Templeton

EXCERPT Part II: Thigh High: Thigh High by Bonnie Edwards

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: The Love Letter by Linda Broday

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: No Time for Love by Phyliss Miranda

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: A Shade of Sunrise by DeWanna Pace

EXCERPT: Give Me a Texan: Amarillo By Morning by Jodi Thomas

EXCERPT Part III: Thigh High: Twinkle Twinkle Little Thong by Bonnie Edwards

Excerpt from Viking Warrior, Unwilling Wife by Michelle Styles
new historical release from Mills & Boone with a UK release in June 2008

Yours, Mine…or Ours is book two in Karen Templeton’s Guys & Daughters series (Dear Santa, Yours, Mine…or Ours? and Baby, I’m Yours)

Excerpt of Taken by the Viking by Michelle Styles, coming 1 May!!
Historical romance released by Harlequin 1 May 2008

Excerpt Unlawful Contact by Pamela Clare aka the one to steam the screen

I am missing some and will add them tomorrow (I see Kresley Cole’s aren’t here). More excerpts to come from Lisa Kleypas, Jill Shalvis, Lynne Connolly, Stephanie Tyler, Caroline Linden, HelenKay Dimon, EC Sheedy, Liz Carlyle, Hope Tarr, Lora Leigh, Sabrina Jeffries, Jenna Petersen, Laura Drewry, Sydney Croft, Roxanne St. Claire, Jennifer Estep, Cheryl St.John and many more….

As well as some nifty prizes from t-shirts and books *g*. Some you will have to answer questions from the excerpts and other will be random drawings from the comments.

Alicia Thomas’s review of What a Rogue Desires by Caroline Linden
Historical romance published 1 Sep 07 by Zebra

Blurb:

Notorious rogue David Reece is determined to mend his wicked ways. Vivian Beecham is the very last sort of woman to help him do that, as an admitted thief and a thief who robbed him, no less. But the last sort of woman David needs in his life might just be the only one he can’t live without…

Read an excerpt.

After reading What A Gentleman Wants (read my review here), I had to read What a Rogue Desires.

David is a lovable scoundrel, like many of my favorite male characters, but he’s guilty of a bit more than just sneaking away with a lady here and there. He can’t hold his head up in most circles by the beginning of this book. He is willing to take his medicine and straighten his life out, though. His honest repentance is what redeems him in my eyes.

Vivian is his perfect heroine. He has to deal with her crime but, at the same time, he can hardly cast any stones. While he wants her to tell him how to get his stolen property back, she’s smart and tough and he has to admire her.

The characters were wonderfully well drawn and the dialogue was enjoyable. There was a bit of a lag while he was waiting for her to break down and talk to him but it picked up again before long. There are fun situations. Their relationship grows believably. The tension was excellent with breath-taking effect. All of these things I expected and was not disappointed.

I did have a couple of problems. First, it nagged at me that Vivian let go of her concern for her brother so often and so easily. I don’t think I could have stayed and enjoyed anything at all in her shoes. She had made major life decisions and taken beatings for his sake, so it didn’t feel in-character for her to stay with David while he didn’t know where she was.

Then, I didn’t have a clear idea of how she and David were going to play out their HEA. I bought that they were in love and that they would live “happily ever after” but does he stay in town with her and just disregard society? Do they stay in the country? Does he pretend she’s someone acceptable? The end was sigh-worthy (in a good way) but for this particular couple I wanted more specifics on how they were going to make it work.

Grade C+

Caroline Linden, author of regency historicals including A Rake’s Guide to Seduction (coming June ’08), shares with us 12 books she’d like to see someone write…

 1. An erotic inspirational. RWA has been teasing me with this possibility in their new RITA guidelines, and yeah, I don’t think I’m the only one who’s curious.

 2. A western where the heroine goes west, checks out the cowboys, and then gets back on the train to Philly or NY or whatever eastern (read, CIVILIZED) city she came from.

3. A chick-lit novel that never once uses the words Prada, Manolo, or Ferragamo. Or even references shoes. They’re barefoot the whole time.

 4. Harry Potter 6.75, where Snape and Harry come face-to-face before Snape kicks it, and duke it out. (I am sure this happens in a great deal of fanfic, etc., thanks for not sending me links to it anyway.)

 5. A lawyer hero who doesn’t practice criminal law. C’mon, those real estate attorneys need love, too!

 6. A paranormal hero who isn’t the alpha leader of his pack/tribe/coven/pod/whatever. C’mon, the lesser immortals need love, too!

  7. A book where Suellen O’Hara finally gets—and keeps—a man of her own (and if she hits on Rhett along the way for revenge, I’m down with that, too).

 8. A book where Rick Blaine from Casablanca isn’t walking into the sunset with Capt. Renault at the end.

 9. The Red Stiletto Sisterhood (or the White Mirror Sisterhood or whatever it should be called). Aren’t there some kick-ass female vamps out there? Ann Christopher, I’m counting on you here…

 10. A romantic suspense villain who isn’t a serial killer.

 11. A totally accurate historical romance, complete with details of bathing procedures and habits, location and style of toileting facilities, prevalence of poverty, and high infant mortality.

 12. A tale of mad-hot elf love (follow the linkie).

Hey Caroline – Never let it be said we don’t want our guests to be happy.    Just for you…

Joseph (Joe) Alberic Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes

• Height: 6′, Weight: I’m guessing about 180 lbs.
• Education: Art School (at age 16), 2 years at the Young Vic Youth Theater in South London
• Born: May 27, 1970 in Salisbury, Wiltshire, England, raised in West Cork, Ireland
• Mother: novelist Jennifer Lash
• Father: photographer Mark Fiennes
• The youngest of six siblings: actor Ralph Fiennes, film makers Sophie Fiennes and Martha Fiennes, composer Magnus Fiennes and, his twin, Jacob Fiennes, a conservationist. His foster brother, Michael Emery, is an archaeologist.
• He is a cousin of Sir Ranulph Fiennes and eighth cousin of HRH, the Prince of Wales.

An avid philanthropist, Fiennes is involved with several charities, focusing mainly on the elimination of poverty and fund raising for breast cancer research. Fiennes traveled to Angola in 2003 to highlight the work of the Christian Aid charity. He helped raise funds for the organization by presenting a three part report for BBC News the same year. He is also an ambassador for the Prince’s Trust.

I did a Very Bad Author Thing (apparently).

I wrote a character into a book with NO INTENTION of giving him his own book. None. (People who thought I was being cute and setting up for a sequel from the beginning…nope.) I was never going to see him again, so I felt completely free to make him as awful as I wanted. He’s not the villain, no, but he comes pretty close at times. He’s the bad twin brother of my hero.

In the prologue (of What A Gentleman Wants) he’s having sex with his married lover. Then he whines about being saved from a duel with her husband. Then he gets drunk and wrecks his carriage in the middle of nowhere. He offers to marry the woman who takes care of him as he recovers from that, but then gets cold feet and signs his brother’s name instead in the marriage register, and after he takes his supposed wife back to London, he high-tails it out of town with no forwarding address and leaves his brother to break the news to her. He’s mixed up with some very bad people, and deep in debt. He’s a bit of a drunk, an accomplished liar, a gambler and a general scoundrel.

So why on earth did people start writing to me as soon as the book came out, saying, “Please tell me David’s book is next!”?????

The answer to that would have been a big NO, except that my editor was the first person to ask. Somehow I thought this meant I was supposed to do it, even though the first thought that popped into my mind was…”who would have this dude?” But I sat down and stared at the computer screen and thought and thought and thought about that question: who would have him? And why?

I loved writing David because he was such a perfect foil to my uptight, precise hero, but again-I was never going to see him again. I made him awful so I could show off my actual hero, Marcus, and show what kind of man Marcus was by how he dealt with the utter screw-up that was his brother. But David was a real person (well in my mind at least) so he wasn’t a complete waste. He’s got guts, and he knows when he really screws up, and he does love his family. He’s charming. He’s an adventure junkie, in some ways; he’s never had any actual responsibilities, so he’s had to come up with some other way to get his rush. So I started to write, nervously, a book in which he went from carefree playboy to someone who was worthy of True Love. He needed someone to need him, I decided, but someone who wouldn’t take any baloney from him. He needed someone who could understand him. And he needed a major reality check, and perhaps to nearly lose her because of his actions.

(Damn, I hope it worked)

But tell me this: what is it about the wicked characters? The enigmatic best-friend-of-hero-who-probably-has-hidden-issues, yeah, I get it. The cynical rake, yeah, I get it. The lying, cheating, irresponsible rogue? Hmmm…

The ever darling (even though she is mean to me) Caroline Linden will be guesting with us today!

AND today is the official release of her newest historical:

What A Rogue Desires

We have some great posts, a contest, a very thought out deep and meaningful Q&A but sadly no funny meeting Caroline Linden stories at RWA (that would be Anna ).

She I was lucky enough to meet me her (my god she is thin) in Dallas. In fact it was something of a herd of zebras… hmmm maybe we will have a post about that after all. LOL depending on how much of the party I remember. Hey! I wasn’t feeling well and was very well medicated. So go get the book if you haven’t yet and then come back.

We will chat, tis be fun. (Think of some hard questions to ask Mz Linden, trust me she likes it.)

What A Rogue Desires by Caroline Linden

Notorious rogue David Reece is determined to mend his wicked ways. Vivian Beecham is the very last sort of woman to help him do that, as an admitted thief and a thief who robbed him, no less. But the last sort of woman David needs in his life might just be the only one he can’t live without…

David could tell by the change in her face that she was done talking to him. He sat back with an inexplicable sense of disappointment. For no good reason, he liked this woman. She was nothing but trouble, and had done a masterful job of giving him a very cold shoulder, but David found her just as intriguing as he had that day on the stage coach. He was growing more and more determined to get her to talk to him…hopefully about where to find his ring, but any topic would do at this point.

He stretched out his bad leg and relaxed in the chair. “Oh, dear. You’ve gone silent again. I must have put my foot in it somehow. That always seems to be the reason ladies refuse to speak to me: I’ve said something wrong, or forgotten to say the right thing, or not said anything when I ought to have said something, even though I seldom know what I ought to have said, let alone that I ought to have said it.” She made a funny little noise, and David heaved a sigh. “Yes, that must be it. I’m quite accustomed to the fact that these little misunderstandings are always my fault. I do wish someone would write a primer on the subject: How to Handle a Lady. Not that I’m the most studious chap, mind, but that manual I could most certainly read.”

The food was gone. She was fussing with the spoon, scraping it along various plates and bowls, but he could tell she was listening to him.

“The trouble is,” he went on, “you’ve become a challenge. I don’t normally have trouble getting ladies to speak to me at the beginning, that is. Yet you, my dear, are most hard-hearted. I cannot make you smile. I cannot make you laugh. I cannot tease one polite word from you.”

“Bugger yourself,” she muttered.

“There you go, two words, and neither of them polite. What shall I do?” He put his head to one side, studying her. Her face was flushed, but she kept her gaze on the breakfast tray. “Perhaps if I put you on bread and water rations until you tell me your name?” he said thoughtfully. Then her eyes did turn his way, half alarmed, half contemptuous. It came to David instantly, that she’d lived on bread and water before. She wouldn’t like it, but she wouldn’t be broken by it. “No, that most certainly would not be the proper way to treat a lady,” he said in the same tone. “Perhaps if I tempt you…” He smiled slowly. “Yes, that’s it. I quite like tempting ladies. I shall have to think carefully about what will tempt you most.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table and giving her a smile. “Talk to me, Mrs. Gray,” he murmured. “I’ll persuade you one way or another.”

Read the first chapter here. (you may need to use Internet Explorer – Firefox may not view this properly)

What A Rogue Desires by Caroline Linden

I WANT! Mine, mine, alllllll mine!!!!

I am thinking Zebra is trying to help Justin bring sexy back…

September is shaping up to be a great month for upcoming historicals from Zebra. What do you think of the cover? Like it better than the other two?

I still don’t like the idea of messing with the ‘branding’ of a series. I mean the first two books follow a theme. But maybe they didn’t sell well? I am not sure.

I liked both of them so if this will help and not hurt I am all for it. Sadly to see if it works…

There still isn’t much on her website but I do have this quote I found when she did a guest day last year.

I just finished a follow-up to WHAT A GENTLEMAN WANTS, in which the very wicked brother, David, gets his comeuppance.

It’s a bit about not knowing what you’ve got until you’re about to lose it. I didn’t begin WHAT A GENTLEMAN WANTS with the intention of writing David’s story, so I made him pretty bad, and left myself quite a hole to climb out of with him!

But his heroine is one of my favorites; she’s very smart-mouthed, and clear-eyed about the world, and she doesn’t take any baloney from anyone, especially not David which is exactly what he needs. And now I’m getting started on Marcus’s and David’s younger sister, Celia.

I am thinking I may just keep Kristina, think I can force her to do reviews? What? It could happen. I think we may just make it a guest author week. Just with one author. Or we could have zebra posts. ohhh I think I have one by Caroline somewhere. Or there is always this one.

We do have a contest I just need to finish posting it. Really I was putting it up yesterday but Jane got tired of me whining and upgraded the blog and I lost it. It was sad. I cried. And then I was gonna do it today after work cuz I am suppose to be getting a nifty box from a publisher that starts with the letter K. But I am not sure how many…

So I am thinking I will post it in the morning. We shall have a nifty contest from Kristina but not near as nifty as what is on her site. And I will be giving away a few books (unsigned, unless Kristina is gonna be in Dallas and you REALLY want a signed book and I could get it signed then). You have had it too easy.

No my blog is like deadsville, you people coming and clicking over to Romantic Advances, happily making lists of books to lust over. I hear crickets here man! Don’t make me have gwen pull out the sound effects cuz I will!

When you write historical romance like I do, you get to do a lot of research. Some of it is just fact-checking how long did it take to ride from Bath to London on a fast horse?… and some of it is technical – how did people remodel their houses 200 years ago?… and then some of it is just plain strange. For instance, when your characters approach an intimate moment, how exactly does one refer to Tab A and Slot B?

If the words throbbing member mean anything to you, then you probably know what I’m talking about. How to name that-which-women-rarely-know-what-to-call, because we don’t have one of our own to think with. I mean about. Men have no trouble naming it… they may have a little TOO little trouble naming it but some of those names are unromantic, indelicate, and downright weird.

I like to think I would have figured out the ‘one-eyed trouser snake’ on my own, however freaky it sounds, but freely admit ‘lobcock’ (19th c.) would remain a mystery to me. ‘Middle leg’ is pretty clear, especially after an episode of Coupling in which a woman tells her friend an ex-boyfriend was born a tripod. ‘Old Horny’ (18th c.) could probably only be one thing, but what about ‘plug tail’ (19th c.)?

Not that the modern terms are much more appealing. ‘Dick’ sounds too much like dickhead, and that’s not a good association. ‘Pickle’ makes me think of hamburgers, not hot dogs, wieners, or any sort of sausage. ‘Schlong,’ well, it rhymes with wrong. ‘Prick’ is what a needle does…a very thin, sharp needle. ‘Frank and beans’ is not what a woman should be thinking as she sinks to her knees, you know what I mean?

And honestly, I think the funnier a term is, the more guys like it. My husband, a mature, intelligent man with multiple advanced degrees, snickered like Beavis and Butthead when the baseball announcers said, “Randy Johnson takes the mound.” The pitching mound, that is. Guys ask if their buddies gave a girl a hot beef injection, or porked her (why is it both beef and pork? Men have some protein identity issues perhaps) when what they mean is, “did you make hot, passionate love to her?”

So what’s a romance writer in need of a historically accurate, socially acceptable, not-laughter-inducing euphemism to do?
A) be medically accurate, and call a penis a penis, not a manroot or the lance of love.
B) be oblique and concentrate on the motions and not the moving parts.
C) embrace your purple side and call it a gleaming, purple-veined, dewey-tipped throbbing member (if you’re gonna go purple, go Deep Purple); or
D) just admit to yourself that you like a certain word and go with it. It’s fiction, y’all! I’m not describing the chamber pots, am I?

Which brings me to the line Sybil’s been waiting for all along: I prefer ‘cock’ when referring to the ‘lovey-dovey pestle of passionate pleasure.’**

[Thanks to *Irene Peterson and **Jessica Trapp for making I">me spit Coke all over my computer screen as I wrote this]

What’s next for Caroline Linden?

Check out her coming soon page:

sadly there isn’t much there BUT there is a link to join her yahoo group for news and info. And keep the link to check back later!

In her blog chat with Teresa Bodwell, they spoke of What a Rogue Desires and Caroline answered:

I just finished a follow-up to WHAT A GENTLEMAN WANTS, in which the very wicked brother, David, gets his comeuppance.It’s a bit about not knowing what you’ve got until you’re about to lose it. I didn’t begin WHAT A GENTLEMAN WANTS with the intention of writing David’s story, so I made him pretty bad, and left myself quite a hole to climb out of with him!

But his heroine is one of my favorites; she’s very smart-mouthed, and clear-eyed about the world, and she doesn’t take any baloney from anyone, especially not David which is exactly what he needs. And now I’m getting started on Marcus’s and David’s younger sister, Celia.

Something to keep in mind as you read What a Gentleman Wants. Check out the completely chat here

What a Gentleman Wants

September 06.

(RIGHT NOW! WAITING FOR YOU TO BUY IT!)

Do I read my finished books:

Yes.

It’s a sick habit, and I always find a typo, but by the time the book comes out, it’s been so long since I wrote it, it’s like a whole new story to me: hey, I wrote that?

The hero did what? Wow…who knew?

It’s almost like revisiting a prior life–although it may just be proof that I am losing my mind.

Have I always wanted to be a writer:

Nope. I spent college trying NOT to write (see: math major; problem sets). It left more time for TV viewing and partying.

How long does it take to write a book:

One bottle of Kahlua, three viewings of Pride and Prejudice (BBC version), and multiple batches of chocolate cookies.

Plus a zillion hours of web surfing, aka ‘research.’

Where do I get my ideas:

In the shower. Sometimes at the grocery market. And once at the dentist’s office.

What’s next:

What A Rogue Desires, in September 2007 (or thereabouts).

Anyone who reads What A Gentleman Wants will probably be able to guess who the rogue is.

It wasn’t my plan to write that book, but (honest) my editor asked for it.

Now it is your turn!Have a question for Caroline? Go for it!