C2’s review of The Bride Wore Scarlet (Fraternitas Series, Book 2) by Liz Carlyle
Historical Romance published by Avon 26 Jul 11

With The Bride Wore Scarlet, Liz Carlyle continues her foray into the paranormal. The St. James Society is a front for an ancient brotherhood sworn to protect those with The Gift. Regency rakes with their own mysterious abilities find and protect others from persecution and exploitation. Sound like an intriguing premise for romance? Maybe not…

Geoffrey Archard, Earl of Besset, is one of the founders of the St. James Society and a member of the Fraternitas Aureae Crucis (from here on referred to as the F.A.C.). Geoff has just learned of a little girl in Belgium that possesses The Gift and is in the clutches of an evil uncle who means to use her for his own gains. The F.A.C. needs to rescue her.

Lady Anais de Rohan has just arrived in London to request membership into the F.A.C. She knows there has never been a female member in recent times, but Celtic priestesses were among the founders, most likely, so she tries to think positive. Her hopes are dashed when Lord Besset and some other members are flabbergasted by the presence of a woman in the ceremonial chamber.

Undaunted, she returns to the home of the St. James Society the next morning to discuss the matter. She is again told she will not be allowed membership, but as a friend of the F.A.C, they would like her assistance in the matter of rescuing a young child. Anais and Geoff will pose as a married couple living next door to the evil uncle and find a way to get the little girl and her mother to safety. Of course, Anais agrees.

Let me insert something here, faithful reader. I have a pet peeve about weird names whose pronunciations are never explained. My brain hangs up every time I run across such names because it wants to try different ways of saying them. Stupid brain. Onward!

The basic plot is pretty standard for romances – our hero and heroine pretend to be married in order to rescue someone/uncover a plot, etc., and fall in love along the way. You would think introducing a paranormal element like The Gift would give new life to the plot. Not so much. There isn’t enough paranormal stuff to really rev things up and not much else to try to make the plot interesting.

I have to say I struggled to finish this book. If I had not been given this book to review, I would have set it aside very early on. I didn’t connect with the characters, the whole secret society thing didn’t catch my interest, and the overall plot didn’t engage me. Also, I find it annoying that the author is almost trying to rewrite history from earlier books – the hero and heroine are children of couples from earlier novels with nary a whisper of paranormal to be found.

All in all, I’m disappointed. I can’t point to any one thing that makes this a bad book. But I’d never say it’s a good one either. Apparently this is a trilogy. I hope Ms. Carlyle returns to her straight historical roots after she wraps this up. I really enjoyed several of her earlier books.

Grade: C-

Summary:

Passion and secrets simmer behind the elegant façade of Victorian high society in the second book of Liz Carlyle’s spellbinding Fraternitas trilogy . . .

Anais de Rohan was raised from childhood to become a Guardian—a covert warrior trained in the ways of a secret militia so ancient its existence is believed mere legend. When Anais presents herself for initiation, however, her male compatriots are impressed with nothing save her hot temper and dark allure.

But when one of the St. James Society’s darkest, most enigmatic leaders challenges Anais to prove herself, she boldly accepts. Courting ruin to pose as Lord Bessett’s new bride, Anais must travel with the handsome, ruthless nobleman on a mission to save one of their own—a little girl with frightening gift—from danger.

But as intrigue swirls about them, drawing them ever closer, Anais begins to realize that their mission is hardly the only challenge she faces, for Lord Bessett is proving a temptation too hard to resist. As for Bessett himself—well, he might be a soldier sworn to the Society, but he certainly isn’t anyone’s saint . . .

Read an excerpt.

Other books in the series:

Gwen’s review of One Touch of Scandal by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance released by Avon 28 Sep 10

Sybil and I were trying to figure out if this book was historical or paranormal.  We landed on “historical with important paranormal elements.”  How’s that for decision making?  Solidly in the middle.

In spite of our collective irresolute tendencies, I have decided that this could best be described as a good historical romance that uses the paranormal to help tell the story and move the plot forward.  Ahh, decisiveness. 

In One Touch of Scandal, Liz Carlyle has written a mid-Victorian era historical that has a hero with ESP and a heroine in a very serious pickle.  Hero, Adrian, belongs to an ancient organization that supports  and protects women and children with the Gift or those who are descended from people with the Gift. Heroine, Grace, is a governess who is suspected of murdering her fiancee/employer.

Adrian and Grace come together in a very believable and interesting manner that I won’t spoil for you.  In fact, that statement of believable and interesting could be said about the book.  The ending is a little sugary for my taste, but I still enjoyed it.

I am happy that both Adrian and Grace are flawed people who are sincerely trying their best to live with the hands dealt them.  I also like that they don’t have prideful TSTL moments.  It’s nice to read about a couple that I can identify with, not that I want to shake and say, “Get out of your own way, you idjit!”

The murder and suspense elements in the book are quite good.  There is a plot twist that is a ton of fun to read and downright scary good.  Loved it.

The only reason I’m giving this a B+, and not an A, is the ending.  It was good – just a bit saccharin for me.

If you’re a Liz Carlyle fan, you need this book.  If you like a little paranormal spicing up your historical, you’ll love this book.  It’s the start of a new series that I think will be tremendous fun to read.

Grade: B+

Summary:

Desperation drove her into the arms of a devil…

Grace Gauthier had taken a position as governess hoping to find security and peace in a life that had very little of either. She’s always yearned for a good marriage, a family, and a home, but it was not to be. And when the brutal murder of her employer leaves her unprotected and alone—as Scotland Yard’s prime suspect—she has no one to turn to except the mysterious and reclusive Lord Ruthveyn.

A dark-eyed Lucifer, Ruthveyn guards his secrets carefully. His shadowed past as the Queen’s most trusted agent in India is the stuff of whispered rumor, as is his mixed ancestry. Deeply moved by her plight—and haunted by her beauty—Ruthveyn is determined to save Grace by unmasking a killer. But his growing passion for her soon places his own heart at risk and threatens to expose his dark gifts—and his dark society—to the world…

Read an excerpt here.

Liviania’s review of Wicked All Day by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance released by Pocket Star 22 Sept 09

Coming off the high of Tempted All Night, I had high hopes for Liz Carlyle’s Wicked All Day.  I enjoyed Zoë Anderson in that novel and looked forward to seeing her meet her Prince Charming.  While Wicked All Day wasn’t everything I wanted and more, it was a good romance.

Zoë Anderson knows that as a bastard she will never be good enough for the upper echelons of society.  Therefore, she transforms herself into a flirt, enjoying herself and rubbing her presence into their faces.  But then her father, Lord Rannoch, lays down the law: she must become engaged or live in Scotland.  Upset, she goes to her oldest friend for comfort and things go a little too far.  Now she and Robert Rowland are engaged, though they only care for each other as friends.

Most of Wicked All Day is a bummer.  The characters seem determined to make themselves unhappy.  Zoë reveals the fragility underneath her irrepressible exterior, but it just made me ache for the bold woman she is in Tempted All Night and at the end of this novel.  Stuart, Robert’s older brother, has been getting the two of them out of trouble for ages.  He fell for Zoë long ago, but can’t spit it out.  At the time of the novel, he’s occupied with getting rid of a vindictive mistress.  But I never quite believe his reasons for not making a move earlier.

Part of the reason the characters are all determined to make themselves unhappy is the fact that they’re all determined to be martyrs for each other.  No one likes a martyr.  Things improve drastically once everyone decides to start going after what they want.  And Zoë and Stuart want each other, though both of them take a ridiculously long time to admit it.

To be honest, there is not that much wrong with Wicked All Day. There’s even a lovely secondary romance between Robin and his mistress Maria that I would love to see more of.  The sensible widow is a good match for him.  The main problem with Wicked All Day is that it is no Tempted All Night. Carlyle set the bar too high for me to be happy with the immediate follow-up.  (Note: I have now typed these two titles far too many times.  I’ve begun to call the books Wicked All Night and Tempted All Day.)

If you enjoy stories about being caught in the tangles of honor, Wicked All Day is a good choice for you.  If you hate it when the heroine or hero can’t spit it out, Zoë and Stuart might frustrate you as they did me.  But they redeem themselves in the end, because a romance isn’t a romance without happily ever after.

Grade: B

Summary:
New York Times bestselling author Liz Carlyle continues her enthralling historical series with the story of an impetuous, illegitimate beauty and the forbidding nobleman who protects her—while fighting an obsession to possess her . . .

Miss Zoë Armstrong is beautiful, charming, rich—and utterly unmarriageable. So, while she may be the ton’s most sparkling diamond, her choice of husbands looks more like a list of London’s most unsavory fortune hunters. Since a true-love marriage seems impossible, Zoë has accepted—no, embraced—her role as society’s most incomparable flirt and mischief-maker . . . until in one reckless, vulnerable moment, her future is shattered.

Stuart Rowland, the brooding Marquess of Mercer, has been part of Zoë’s extended family since she was a child. As dark and cynical as Zoë is lively, Mercer has always known they would be the worst possible match . . . until his scapegrace brother Robert does the unthinkable, and winds up betrothed to Zoë. Now, secluded on Mercer’s vast estate to escape a looming scandal and the ton’s prying eyes, Zoë and Mercer may find that a dark obsession has become a tempestuous passion that can no longer be denied . . .
Read an excerpt here.

Liviania’s review of Tempted All Night by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance released by Pocket 17 Feb 09

Once you’ve read three or more books by the same author, you’ve made some decisions about what that author’s books are like.  Character or plot driven, good or bad at weaving an action plot with the romance, better at beginnings or endings, etc.  After reading Liz Carlyle’s Never trilogy, I’d decided that she wrote frothy, light historicals that were better when focused on the romance.  After reading Tempted All Night, I was stuck thinking, “Damn, Liz.  You sure fooled me.”

I feel in love with this book the moment I finished the prologue.  Lady Phaedra Northampton is alone and dressed as a servant in a bad part of London when scandalous ne’er-do-well Tristan Talbot notices her.  Despite his slight inebriation, he escorts her home, getting her safely out of the dangerous situation she got herself into, and keeping his hands to himself despite his attraction.  He’s honorable and sexy and won my regard quicker than any other romantic hero I can remember.

But you are of course wondering why I was so surprised by Tempted All Night.  Perhaps it’s the fact the heroine is not a virgin.  Perhaps it is the search for a missing mother that is as compelling as the romance.  (And the romance is hot.)  Perhaps it is the S&M brothel.  You heard me right, S&M brothel.  The instant my fellow historical romance loving friend came over, I shoved this book into her hands.  I felt like I’d gotten rid of my shame of romance covers, doing it in front of two guys.  They instantly demanded she read some of it, and she promptly opened the book to an S&M brothel scene, making me wish I had been subtle about handing her the book.  But I digress.

I don’t want to say too much about the plot, as it’s fun to uncover Phaedra’s secrets as you read.  She’s a fabulous heroine.  She’s prim and proper in public, especially compared to her friend Zoë Anderson.  But when society isn’t looking she feels quite free to be improper and get things done.  She’s a good match for Tristan, who has been acting out to spite his father Lord Hauxton, who is in the foreign office.  But now that he’s on his deathbed, Tristan is secretly taking over his job.  They appear to be opposites but act with similar attentions.

I think fans of Carlyle’s other works will love this one.  It has her wit and style, but it’s still surprising.  She’s not treading water but trying something new, and it pays off in spades.  I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Tempted All Night shows up in my Best Books of 2009.  To me, it has a perfect combination of hero, heroine, and plot.  I hope this one wins Carlyle some new fans, since it will also appeal to those who don’t like their historicals frothy.  (As for my friend who borrowed it . . . well, she liked it too.)

Grade: A+

Summary:
Even the most careful lady can be swayed by a scoundrel . . .

Lady Phaedra Northampton is a proper English miss—but burdened by a dark secret. She’s buried her shame in running her wealthy brother, Lord Nash’s, households while hiding behind a sharp wit and dull wardrobe . . . until a reckless village maid’s disappearance pulls her into London’s seedy underworld.

A former mercenary and jaded spy-for-hire, Tristan Talbot, Lord Avoncliffe, now does little, and manages to do it scandalously. Though Tristan’s an out and out rogue, when his dying father begs him to delve into the secrets behind a notorious brothel—a perfect task for his talents!—Tristan can’t refuse. Is the brothel a front for a notorious Russian spy ring? Tristan is on the hunt—until his path collides with the oh-so-tempting Lady Phae.

Soon what should be a simple assignment becomes deliciously complicated . . . when deception and desire lead to an explosive passion—and deadly foes!
Read an excerpt here.

Gwen’s review of Never Romance a Rake (Neville Family Trilogy, Book 3) by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance released by Pocket 22 Jul 08

I enjoy breaking up my urban fantasy and contemporary reading with a nice, refreshing historical.  I tend to the “heavier” historicals and try to avoid “teh funny” as much as possible.  This book delivered on all levels – it cleared my palate mid-pile o’ UF, and is a weighty tale that distracted and entertained me. 

I realize I’m late to this series – the last book was released a year ago last July – but at least I came along for the ride.  I’m glad I read this book before the other two.  Though it would be entertaining to read them all in order, I don’t believe it’s necessary – this book stands alone fine.

The hero is Kieran, Lord Rothewell, and the heroine a young French woman named Camille.  Through some rather tried but true authorial maneuvers, the hero “wins” the heroine in a card game (he cheats, by the way). The two are thrust together mostly by choice and somewhat by circumstance.

Kieran is a rake of the worst sort – dissolute and depressed.  He is convinced that he’s an awful person and punishes himself suitably by totally abusing his body.  Camille has been raised by two of what must be the most selfish people on the planet.  As a result her self-image is not the best.  Nevertheless, Camille is determined to have a child so that she can have someone in her life she can truly love.

What I found surprising about both of these damaged people was how much I liked them.  I’m not a fan of the “oh woe is me” type of character.  You know the kind – Kenyon’s heroes are almost all a bunch of whiney babies.  Camille and Kieran doubt themselves, and Kieran wallows a bit, but neither of them whines.  They eventually talk to each other about what has damaged them and then overcome it together.  They act like, gasp, adults!

There’s a few other things that happen in the book that made me think for a few pages that I was reading a Dynasty script.  Regardless, the book remained entertaining and didn’t fall into the “no way!” realm.  Near as I can gather, this is the only book of the trilogy that doesn’t rely on a political suspense element to carry the story.  It’s all about the couple – another thing I really liked.

I recommend this book to anyone looking for a meatier romance that is truly centered on the couple.  If you’re a fan of historicals, you’ll also like it though there’s actually not much about the period in this entry.

Grade: B+

Read more reviews and information by following the series tag here.

Summary:

Baron Rothewell lives a dark, shuttered existence by day, and a life of reckless abandon by night. Scarred by a childhood filled with torment and deprivation, Rothewell cares very little anyone or anything. His life on the edge of ruin suits him—until he meets a man who just might be his nemesis. The Comte de Valigny likes to play deeply and dangerously, but Rothewell’s recklessness is undeterred. Until one night when de Valigny wagers something just a little more valuable than gold.

Mademoiselle Marchand is a desperate woman in a strange land, and her pleading eyes seem to swallow Lord Rothewell body and soul—assuming he still has one. Now the baron must play his hand with the utmost care, for at last something meaningful is at stake…

Read an excerpt here.

Other books in the series (I adore these covers – such pretty colors):

Love this cover… I have to admit I wanted to know more about Zoë Armstrong when I finished Tempted All Night (another Liz C book I loved).  When I closed the book I went on a rereading binge and ran through about 4 or 5 faves before I had to stop.

When I heard this would be her last book with Pocket, I admit I was worried.  Would Liz Carlyle throw something together so she could get to work on her next book (which will be coming out from Avon).  Would this book not get the attention it should (although I would say Liz Carlyle never gets the attention she deserves).  I shouldn’t have worried, I loved Wicked All Day.  It is an ‘Oct’ release so it comes out September 22, 2009.

Miss Zoë Armstrong is beautiful, charming, rich — and utterly unmarriageable. So, while she may be the ton‘s most sparkling diamond, her choice of husbands looks more like a list of London’s most unsavory fortune hunters. Since a true-love marriage seems impossible, Zoë has accepted — no, embraced — her role as society’s most incomparable flirt and mischief maker…until in one reckless, vulnerable moment, her future is shattered.

Stuart Rowland, the brooding Marquess of Mercer, has been part of Zoë’s extended family since she was a child. As dark and cynical as Zoë is lively, Mercer has always known they would be the worst possible match…until his scapegrace brother Robert does the unthinkable, and winds up betrothed to Zoë. Now, secluded on Mercer’s vast estate to escape a looming scandal and the ton‘s prying eyes, Zoë and Mercer may find that a dark obsession has become a tempestuous passion that can no longer be denied….

Surrendering Robin to his fate, Lord Mercer set a course directly across the ballroom.  The remaining dancers parted like the Red Sea before him.  At his approach, a few of the more practiced ladies snapped open fans and plied them rather too vigorously, their gazes dropping with feigned modesty as he passed.  Mercer was not fooled; he knew precisely what such women offered—and had he not, these last few months with his mistress would most certainly have enlightened him.

No, he was far more intrigued by the slender, waif-like creature he had just espied strolling deeper into the gardens.  His cousin Zoë, God’s most diligent mischief-maker.  And she was hanging upon the arm of one of her more salacious suitors.  Mercer sensed another catastrophe in the making.

At the French windows, he hesitated, taking a surreptitious look round to see who might be observing his departure.  Zoë’s father, Lord Rannoch, was nowhere to be seen, and the musicians had just struck the first notes of a popular country dance.  Everyone seemed to be surging toward the dance floor.

Tucking his cheroot case away, Mercer stepped out onto the terrace.  Here, the garden lanterns swayed in the faint summer breeze, casting eerie, flickering shadows across the flagstone and into the garden’s lush foliage.  Mercer went down the steps, not entirely sure why he did so.  Indeed, he was never certain of anything where Zoë was concerned.  He knew only that she was apt to get herself into trouble, and that he would drag her kicking and screaming out of it.  Then, undoubtedly, she would rail at him after the fact while he held his tongue and his temper.

A telltale flash of shimmering gold—Zoë’s shawl—led him down the garden path and around the faintly gurgling fountain.  Frustrated, he picked up his pace.  In the deepening gloom, his every sense heightened.  The sound of the crickets.  The smell of the Thames far below.  And still lingering in the air, unless he imagined it, the fragrance Zoë had long favored; an exotic combination of citrus and jasmine.  All these things came to him as Mercer’s feet fell softly on the winding flagstone, and something vaguely sickening—dread or regret, perhaps—began to churn in his stomach.

He had no doubt that he would find the pair—the garden was not large—and little doubt of what he would see once he did so.  A rake and a rotter to his very core, Randall Brent was forever on the doorstep of Insolvent Debtor’s Court.  Such a man had but one reason for escorting Zoë so deep into the greenery, and Zoë was a fool to have gone.  Perhaps, he grimly considered, it would serve the heedless chit right to find herself married off to the bastard.  But that notion served to make him more frustrated still.

Just then, Mercer turned a corner near the very edge of the lamplight’s reach.  Zoë’s back was to him, her gossamer gold shawl hanging carelessly from her elbow, one end trailing the ground.  Her gaze was locked with Brent’s.  The scoundrel towered over her slender form, his hand grasping her upper arm.  Clearly they did not hear his approach, for though their voices were low, both spoke with an urgency Mercer did not like.

Suddenly, everything happened at once.  Brent seized Zoë’s other arm, yanking her nearer.  But not near enough.  In a flash, Zoë lifted one knee.  She stamped her foot hard, ramming her heel into the top of Brent’s arch.  On a yelp, Brent let go, and hopped back on one foot, careening sideways into Mercer’s path.

Mercer caught him by the shoulder, and jerked him up sharp.  “Brent, you will excuse yourself from my home, sir,” he said tightly.

Brent’s eyes widened.  “But she—she—”  Here, he cut Zoë a nasty glance. “You minx!” he hissed.  “You came out here with me willingly.  Tell him, damn you.”

“La, sir,” said Zoë, calmly drawing up her shawl, “I agreed to stroll with you, not to be dragged into the shrubbery like some three-penny strumpet.”

“Zoë, be silent,” Mercer commanded.  He thrust out his arm in the direction of the back gate.  “Now get off my property, Brent.  I don’t give a bloody damn what you thought she intended.”

The man sidled away, still hobbling on one foot.  “The little jade was willing,” he hissed.  “She came out with me alone into the dark—and I shan’t hesitate to say so.”

“You weren’t in the dark,” said Mercer coolly.  “Moreover, I have been your escort the whole time, as I am sure Miss Armstrong is aware.  You realized, Zoë, did you not, that I was but a few steps behind?”

Zoë  lowered her sweeping black lashes in mock contrition.  “Yes, my lord.  Of course.”

Mercer smiled tightly at her.  “Well, that affair is settled,” he said, returning to his former guest.  “As to you, Brent, should another vulgar allegation pass your lips with regard to my cousin, you’ll be settling your affairs.  I trust I needn’t strip off a glove to make my point?”

A look which might have been fear flared behind his eyes, then Brent turned and slowly melted into the darkness.  Mercer watched him go, raw hatred seething in his gut.

But why?  Brent was the same scoundrel he had ever been.  And Zoë—well, she was the same rash little coquette, and too damned beautiful for her own good.  Mercer wanted, suddenly, to rail at her.  To shake her until her teeth rattled and her hair came tumbling down.  To turn her over his knee and—

Ah, God.  What a fool he was.

Abruptly, he turned.  “Take my arm,” he gritted, offering it.  “I shall see you safely inside.”

Zoë  looked at him hesitantly.

“Take it,” he snapped.

Something in his gaze convinced her.  Abruptly, she seized it, stepping out in some haste to keep pace with his longer strides.  Mercer did not slow, but instead more or less dragged Zoë back up the garden path, stopping only when they were well within view of the ballroom.

On the flagstone terrace, she paused some distance from the doors, lifted her skirts a fraction, and gave a perfunctory curtsey.  “You are very kind, Mercer,” she said.  “I thank you.”

He gave a humorless laugh, and drew his silver case from his pocket again.  “Oh, I doubt it,” he said.  “As usual, Zoë, you think you had matters under control.”

Her lips formed a perfect little moue.  “Good heavens, Mercer, it was just a flirtation,” she said.  “I daresay you mean to rip up at me now.”

He watched her intently across the terrace as he extracted a cheroot.   Sometimes it felt as if she wished to torment him.  But the urge to rattle her teeth had receded, thank God, displaced by his usual cool distance.  “It is hardly my job to lecture you,” he returned.  “But it is Rannoch’s—and in my opinion, the man’s a coward for not giving you a good caning eons ago.”

Zoë gave an impudent swish of her skirts as she stepped an inch nearer.  “Why, you look rather as if you might like to do the job for him,” she whispered, her voice pitched as if to send a shiver down his spine.  “And I swear, Mercer, that scowl quite ruins your good looks.”

Somehow he managed to look unfazed.  “Why Zoë,” he drawled, “I didn’t know you cared.”

She tossed her head, the lamplight catching the emerald drops which swung from her plump earlobes.  “Well, I don’t, I daresay,” she retorted.  “Just be careful it doesn’t freeze like that and stick your haughty eyebrows together.  Your pretty vicomtesse mightn’t find you so appealing in bed.”

Despite himself, Mercer gave a bark of laughter.  The chit really was quite unrepentant.  After shaking his head, he set the cheroot to his lips.  “I would ask your indulgence, Zoë,” he said, thumbing open his vesta box, “but I know you aren’t much bothered by smoke.”

A familiar, deeply mischievous smile tugged at her mouth.  “Very little,” she agreed, lifting her chin as if to show off her pale, swanlike neck.  “I don’t suppose you’d care to share?”

“Absolutely not.”  Mercer lit the cheroot, still eyeing her warily.  “Now, tell me, Zoë, what would you have done had Rannoch caught you hiding out here with Brent?  Do you never consider such things?”

“Dash it, I wasn’t hiding with Brent.”  She exhaled on an exasperated huff.  “I was hiding from Papa, if you must know, because Sir Edgar told me Papa was looking for me, and those two circumstances taken together never spell good news for me, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do,” he replied.

“Oh, never mind!”  Zoë threw up her hands.  “In any case, Brent merely caught up with me on the terrace, and asked me to stroll.  It seemed as good a diversion as any.  After all, that’s half the battle, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Diversion,” she answered impatiently.

“Diversion from what, pray?”

She swallowed, the muscles of her throat sinuous as silk.  “Well, from . . . from life’s tribulations.”

“Life’s tribulations, eh?”

Pondering this, Mercer puffed for a time in an attempt to coax the tobacco fully to life, his wary gaze never leaving Zoë’s face.  He had never understood her, this dark, dangerous vixen who had somehow grown from a solemn, mop-haired child to an effervescent, giggling pain in his arse, and then into—well, into something that could cause even a sensible man to lose sleep at night, were he fool enough to let it.  And no one had ever called Mercer a fool.

“Do you know what Brent is, Zoë?” he finally asked.

Oh, for pity’s sake, I cut my teeth on men like Randall Brent.”  She marched two steps nearer, defiance flashing in her oddly colored eyes.  “The man’s an arrant womanizer, yes.  On the other hand, so are you—and yet here I stand, perfectly safe.”

He exhaled slowly, sending a long stream of gray smoke into the darkness.   “Yes,” he said quietly.  “But I am a womanizer of a different sort altogether, my dear.”

“Well, it hardly matters, does it?”  She leaned into him, her small, gloved hands still set high on her hipbones.  “Indeed, I sometimes think you wouldn’t try to kiss me again, Mercer, if I begged for it.”

“How astute of you,” Mercer murmured, wishing to God she’d step back, and stop reminding him what a fool he was.  Wishing to the devil that warm, sensual scent of jasmine and spice didn’t waft up on the heat from her skin.  “No, I do not trifle with unmarried ladies, and—”

“You did once,” she persisted, her voice a dusky whisper.  “A long time ago.  Do you remember, Mercer?  I do.”

Did he remember?

Dear God.  He remembered every time he saw her—but if ever he laid a hand on Zoë Armstrong again, he likely would not stop at a kiss.  Mercer, however, was schooled in self-discipline, so he hid the heated frustration that was ratcheting up inside him.  Instead, he merely lifted one brow and forged on.

“Brent is not just a womanizer, Zoë,” he continued.  “He’s a rake.  He’d ruin you just for the pleasure of it.”

“My, are we changing the subject?”  Zoë stepped another inch closer, charging the air with electricity as her voice warmed him.  “Are you really so unlike me, Mercer?  Do you . . . do you never think about . . . . well, about that one time?”

“Oh, no, don’t try your wiles on me, my girl!” he gritted.  “I don’t for a moment think you serious.  Now, I believe we were discussing Randall Brent?”

The charge in the air quieted abruptly, and Zoë’s mischievous smile returned.   “Hoo!” she said dismissively.  “You think I can’t handle his sort?”

“That’s half the trouble, Zoë,” he answered, pensively tapping off his ash.  “I’m relatively confident you can.”

At that, her dark, arching eyebrows snapped together.  “Then I do not understand why you must be so churlish over a meaningless flirtation.”

Inexplicably, her sangfroid angered him.  “And what I do not understand,” he snapped, “is why you cannot see that you deserve something better.”

Her gaze widened.

“And what I cannot understand,” he continued, both his tongue and temper slipping, “is why you throw yourself away on men like Brent.  Why you break men’s hearts for sport.  Or why you waste an obviously fine mind in frivolous pursuits and pointless flirtations.  That, Zoë, is what I do not understand.  So, would you like to argue about those things?  Would you care to explain to me why you prefer something meaningless to something—or someone—who is real?”

At that, she dropped her hands, still fisted, her glower melting into a look of dumbstruck stupefaction.  Her mouth opened, then closed again.

“No,” he said quietly, “I thought not.”

Then Mercer drew one last puff on his cheroot, and hurled it into the darkened depths of the side garden.  He had lost his taste for it.  Moreover, he’d lost his taste for this conversation.  And he certainly did not need his impetuous young cousin reminding him of his own folly, however long ago it might have been.

With one last nod to her, he turned on one heel and reentered the ballroom, his face as emotionless as when he’d left it.

©2009 Liz Carlyle

You’re in for a treat today! Welcome to Duck Chat!

Ohmyohmyohmy!  Squeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Kathryn Smith is here!!!!!

As most of you know, Kathryn’s vampire series, Brotherhood of the Blood, is a favorite of fans everywhere, but the really big news lately is that she’s writing straight historicals once again, and Kathryn will be talking about that and so much more today.

So no more lollygagging! Let’s chat!

DUCK CHAT: Kathryn, of course, the big news, the happy news for your fans is that you’ve returned to writing historical romance. Was it just time? Did something specific happen to prompt you to write that next one?

KATHRYN SMITH: The simplest answer is that yes, it was just time. I’d been writing a lot of paranormal, and even though most of it was historical, it wore on me. I loved my vamps, but they couldn’t go out in the sun! Actually, the sad truth is that historical paranormal just does not sell like contemporary paranormal and while I had some success, the move didn’t really help my career. It was upsetting to say the least, but historical was always my first love and it took me back with welcome arms.

DC: If you could retire any question and never, ever have it asked again, what would it be? Feel free to answer it.

KS: Where do you get your ideas from? Only because I never know how to answer it. It’s not like I have a magic hat or anything! My ideas can come from anywhere.

DC: And fans will not get just one new historical from you, but an entire series. Lots of happy dancin’ is going on out there! Tell us about the new series, please.

KS: Thank you! I’ve dubbed the new series a ‘Victorian Soap Opera.’ I’m introducing lots of recurring characters that will appear in some or all of the books, and there will be secrets and intrigue afoot. There’s even a gathering place – a hub – where all the characters go to be social, much like Ruby’s on General Hospital. I even have a ‘love to hate’ character that I hope readers will embrace. It’s going to be difficult keeping track of everyone, but I think I’m up for the task.  The series begins with a trilogy, and after that I’m treating it as a world rather than a series. That way I don’t feel locked in to write books about specific characters. Anyone could have a book! And just like on soaps, a new character could arrive on the scene at any time.

DC: I’ve heard writers often say their stories take them in surprising directions, or dialogue flows from some unknown place. Is it the same with you? Do your characters surprise you sometimes?

KS: Yes! I’m mostly a plotter, but I like to leave room for my characters to express themselves. That sounds slightly psychotic I’m sure, but once you’re in their heads, writing from their POV, you start to understand what they’re all about. That’s when they surprise you.

DC: Do you ever argue with your characters while you’re writing? Who usually wins?

KS: No. I trust them to do the right thing. LOL. I let them do what they will and if it doesn’t work, I do it my way. There’s no arguing because either way I win.

DC: The first book of your new series is When Seducing a Duke and it will be released later this month. Would you tell our readers about Grey and Rose and how their story came about?

KS: Grey and Rose are a little bit Phantom of the Opera and a little bit Luke and Laura. He’s a little older, jaded and a little tortured. He’s had an awful past that haunts him still, and he doesn’t want the taint of that to touch her, but it’s going to just by association. He promised her father he’d look after her and to him that means NOT giving in to his feelings for her. Rose on the other hand is determined and slightly naïve. Part of her is convinced that if she can make Grey confront the attraction between them everything will magically be wonderful.

I have no idea now where the idea for them came from! I’ve always loved the kind of hero who has been ‘rode hard and put away wet.’ Grey is definitely one those. He feels awful for his past, but he also knows he’d still be the same if not for the event that changed his life. He didn’t change willingly, and he’s not sure what kind of man he is anymore. I think Rose is a little bit like me – she thinks if she wants something bad enough and works at it hard enough, she’ll get it. That doesn’t always work out for the best! It’s a ‘be careful what you wish for’ situation.

DC: What is sure to distract you from sitting down and working/writing?

KS: Email. Phone calls. iTunes. YouTube. Twitter. Cats. Shiny things.

DC: How’s work coming on the second book in your Victorian series? May we have a little sneak peek?

KS: Currently I’m working on revisions for When Marrying a Scoundrel, the second book in the series. It’s about Jack Friday and Sadie Moon. He’s a self-made man with a secret and she’s a tea leaf reader – with a secret. The secret is that they married when they were very young, but then Fate tore them apart. Now, the two of them are reunited and neither one of them is very happy about it.

DC: What has been your favorite book cover from all of your releases and why?

KS: Wow, what a difficult question. The lovely man who runs the Avon Art Dept is one of my favorite people in the entire world. He’s been so very generous with me over the last few years. I’ve always loved the cover for Into Temptation painted by Diane Sivavec. More recently I think the cover for Dark Side of Dawn, which comes out in December – but that might just be because of the gorgeous nekked man on the cover!  Of the Brotherhood covers I think Let the Night Begin is my favorite. I love the golden color of it and the fact that she’s going for his neck.

DC: How about your least favorite cover? Why?

KS: Wow. I’ve never had a cover I hated. I’ve been very lucky. Although if I had to choose it would be In Your Arms Again. I’m not a fan of the pose where the hero is behind the heroine and she has her skirt hauled up. Not sure why. And then, if you don’t look closely it looks like the hero isn’t wearing pants – just a belt and boots. His trousers are almost the same color he is. Still, I’ve seen much worse.

DC: How do you feel your male or female characters have evolved over your career? Do you think you write them differently now than you did when you started?

KS: Oh yeah! I think my heroines have gotten more realistic. They’re not entirely good little girls. Nothing interesting in that. My heroes have changed as well. I used to think I had to write Alpha guys, but I’m not good at that. I like guys who can be both tough and sweet. Real people have uncharitable thoughts, absurd thoughts, insecurities and vanities. That’s what I’m interested in writing now.

DC: Your Nightmare Chronicles is also a fairly new urban fantasy series, one book out last year and the second due out in November. Would you tell us about the series over all and and then we’ll talk about each book.

KS: Dawn Riley is the half-mortal daughter of Morpheus, God of Dreams. That’s the crux of it. Dawn is able to walk between both worlds, something no one else can do. It makes people fear her. The veil between the dream realm and our world is thinning, strange things are happening. And no one is sure if Dawn is the solution to the problem, or the cause of it.

DC: First in the series was Before I Wake, which was out last year, and next month Dark Side of Dawn is being released. Would you give a look inside each book, please?

KS: In Before I Wake, Dawn has repressed who she is. She’s working in a sleep center and crushing on one of her ‘clients,’ Noah Drake. One night Noah is attacked in his dreams and somehow Dawn gets pulled into that very dream. She becomes the target of a Night Terror and the only way to stop it is to accept what she is and use her abilities. This means reconciling with Morpheus and her mother. It also means telling Noah the truth about who and what she is.

In Dark Side of Dawn, Dawn is working on honing her abilities and dating Noah. But then someone close to Noah is attacked and Dawn has to use both her professional skills as a psychologist, and her skills as a Nightmare to help. But this puts her in the path of another monster – an earthbound one this time. She’s also in trouble with the Nightmare Council for something she did in book 1. Dawn just can’t catch a break, and if she doesn’t do something fast, she might not live to stand trial in the Dreaming!

DC: Is there a genre you haven’t tackled but would like to try?

KS: Hmm. Young Adult. Historical. Paranormal. Urban Fantasy. I think I’ve written everything I’ve wanted! Actually, I would love to write mysteries, but I don’t think I’d be very good at it. I really want to do more Young Adult. I had two historical YAs out in 2001-2002, and I’ve wanted to do more ever since. So, while there’s not a genre I would like to try, there certainly is one I’d like to do more in.

DC: What advice would you give to your younger self?

KS: Don’t date him. LOL. Actually, I think everything we’ve done has led to where we are, so I don’t think I’d encourage myself to do anything differently. I might, however, tell myself to have more confidence and not take quite so much attitude from other people.

DC: If you were a book, what would your blurb be?

KS: She’s a big girl with a big mouth and an even bigger heart, but does she have what it takes to make the big time?

LOL. That’s so corny, but it’s the best I can do without sounding totally bollocks.

DC: What would be your “voice’s” tagline?

KS: Realistic characters. Fantastic passion. I’d actually have a ‘wink’ after that too. I have a hard time talking myself up.

DC: Your vampire series, The Brotherhood of the Blood, is a favorite with readers. There’s five books in the series so far, with Night After Night being released earlier this year. First would tell those one or two people who aren’t familiar with the series what it’s about?

KS: The Brotherhood was originally six mercenaries who found what they thought was the Holy Grail, but it was actually the Blood Grail, made from the silver paid to Judas, infused with the essence of Lilith. When they drank from it they were turned vampire. 6 centuries later the group who originally had the Blood Grail wants it back – and they want the Brotherhood as well.

DC: Is the series evolving as your originally envisioned it?

KS: Yes. It played out exactly as I’d planned book-wise. I had an arc and I followed it. Success wise, I have to be honest and say that I was much higher hopes for it. Maybe someday paranormal historical will become what I’d hoped it would be and I can give fans of the series some new books.

DC: Please tell everyone about Night After Night.

KS: Night After Night was Temple’s story. He was the leader of the Brotherhood of the Blood once upon a time. In Be Mine Tonight, you discover he’s gone missing, and throughout the series the mystery of what happened to Temple runs through every story. This is also the book that reunites the Brotherhood. It is a romance, however. Temple meets Vivian, who is far more than she seems – more than she even knows. And she’s part of the group that would see the Brotherhood destroyed. That’s conflict, huh?

DC: Are there more books planned in the series? What can we expect next?

KS: As of right now, there are no more books planned for that series. That story line ended with Night After Night. If I do anything in the future, it will be with a new group of vampires or other supernatural creatures.

DC: If you had never become an author, what do you think you would be doing right now?

KS: I’d be a rock star. Actually, I once wanted to be a makeup artist. I love makeup.

DC: Who’s your favorite author(s)?

KS: I have so many. I love Julia Quinn, Laura Lee Guhrke, Connie Brockway. Sherry Thomas and Meredith Duran are two new authors that I do not feel worthy of when I read them! Lorraine Heath is another favorite, along with Jenna Petersen, Sophie Jordan, Sabrina Jeffries, Loretta Chase, and Liz Carlyle.

DC: How about a favorite book or two?

KS: Stranger in My Arms by Lisa Kleypas. Love that book. Lord of Scoundrels by Loretta Chase. Secret Desires of a Gentleman by Laura Lee Guhrke is a current fave, as well as When He Was Wicked by Julia Quinn. Those are the first that come to mind.

DC: What else is on the horizon for Kathryn Smith?

KS: More Victorian soap opera books. I’m currently outlining the third, which I’ve tentatively titled When Tempting a Rogue, but that will probably change to better suit the story. I’m hoping to perhaps continue on with the Nightmare Chronicles, and I do have a little something else I’m working on, but I’m keeping mum until I see what happens. That makes me a tease, doesn’t it? Sorry!

Lightning Round:

- dark or milk chocolate?     – milk
- smooth or chunky peanut butter?     – chunky
- heels or flats?      – heels
- coffee or tea?      – both
- summer or winter?      – Actually, autumn
- mountains or beach?      – beach
- mustard or mayonnaise?     – mayo
- flowers or candy?      – flowers
- pockets or purse?      – Purse – anyone who knows me is laughing at this, because they know I collect purses.
- Pepsi or Coke?     – Coke
- ebook or print?     – Print – but I want to try an e-reader.

And because folks still like seeing the answers:

1. What is your favorite word?    – friend
2. What is your least favorite word?     – nourishing
3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?     – nature
4. What turns you off creatively, spiritually or emotionally?      – willful ignorance
5. What sound or noise do you love?      – the sound of Steve’s voice
6. What sound or noise do you hate?      – a cat coughing up hair balls.
7. What is your favorite curse word?     – I don’t curse! Right. I say fuck a lot, but I’d like to use the word twat more. I can’t believe I just admitted to that.
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?     – makeup artistry. Maybe teaching.
9. What profession would you not like to do?      – anything where I’d have to put my hand in another person.
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?     – “I’ve read all your books.”

DC: Kathryn, it was such a pleasure to have you here today! Thank you so much!

Before I start this – please remember I’m talking generalisations, about the zeitgeist. There are always exceptions to the rule, always exceptional people and situations, but citing their examples doesn’t make it the norm. Authors generally work with the fringes, with the exceptions, so there’s a real danger that they can become regarded as the reality. 

The problem with historical novels is hindsight. There are so many expectations about the historical novel, and they’re based on relatively modern schools of thought. Much like a Regency gentleman in a novel calling another Regency gentleman “paranoid.” It sounds normal to us, but that’s because we’re the other side of the great psychoanalysis revolution.

I write historicals set in the mid eighteenth century, and even the word “class” wouldn’t have come naturally to the average Georgian. The term “working class” was meaningless. Everyone did some kind of work, didn’t they? Aristocrats worked hard to maintain their estates and build their reputations and that of the country. The farmer worked hard to enrich the land and enrich himself in the process. Oh yes, there were slackers in every part of society, but on the whole most people knew their place and worked to make the best of it.

And in those days, ‘knowing your place’ didn’t carry any sense of superiority or inferiority, it meant what it said. You knew where you belonged but that didn’t stop you aspiring to improve your situation, mainly by making more money. There were no legal barriers preventing you from going as high as you wanted and had the ability for. The British were always proud of that. In theory a beggar could become a duke, and over time, some did, although it might take centuries. However, the family of an upstart Cit went from adventurer to Prime Minister to Earl in the breathtaking space of two generations, so it could be done, and of course, in Charles II’s time, several women went from the streets to becoming duchesses. The Pitts, older and younger, were hugely wealthy and hugely powerful, but until the older Pitt was given the title of earl as his reward for being Prime Minister, they remained commoners. Nell Gwynne, actress and prostitute became the mother of two dukes. The ancestry of many of Britain’s most influential families had their roots in the gutter. And may were proud of that, too.

So many modern writers have assumed that the duke didn’t have anything to do except enjoy the wealth and title, and the title often seems as important as the holdings that went with it. There were very few dukes in Georgian Britain, and they weren’t always as powerful or wealthy as some earls, or even misters. Dukes would also have no time to be a spy, and wouldn’t have considered it if they were. The person who rehabilitated the spy and made it seem glamorous was Ian Fleming. Before that, the spy was considered not a gentleman because he had to lie and cheat to obtain his goal. Even in the army, the spying was played down and not made much of, although at times it was important to the country.

The first person to use class analysis in any way was the social reformer William Cobbett, born in 1763, whose description of the country in “Rural Rides,” published in the 1820’s, including the phrase “the middling sort” – the first reference to the middle classes, who by the 1820’s were more of a cohesive whole and the rising influence in the land. The gulf between richest and poorest was growing into a yawning chasm.

The concept of class and the attached connotations of “better” and “worse” didn’t really emerge until the Victorian era, when hypocrisy and moral condemnation came in with the rise of the bourgeoisie. Social reformers like Friedrich Engels, Mrs. Gaskell and the Manchester group began to question accepted norms, as a result of seeing the suffering of the poor in the newly industrialised cities. Engels corresponded with Karl Marx, and he undertook a formal model of British society as he knew it – and we’re now well into Victorian times.

Basically, Marx developed the notions of class that we have today from a series of disparate notions that were floating about at the time. So applying the idea to a pre-Marxian time isn’t exactly accurate. And I’m speaking here about Marx as a social historian, not Marx as a social reformer. In British schools and universities, his historian aspect is a compulsory course of study. In the States, because of the Cold War, mention of Marx brings up visions of communism and extremism. Modern Marxist historians like John Berger have added to the body of knowledge about history, and while Marx is banned, Berger is often a set text.

In the Georgian era, if the average British person hated anyone, it was the foreigner. They weren’t trusted, were seen as wrong-headed, and the Brit always considered himself superior to the people across the 20 odd miles of the English Channel (or La Manche, depending on which side of it you were). In France, unlike Britain, there were clear legal barriers why a peasant could never become a duke and an intimate of the King. The Brits were always proud of that fluidity in their society.

And let’s be clear – the English did not hate the Scots, or vice versa. Scottish noblemen mostly saw themselves as part of the nobility (their accents, habits and way of life were identical). When the Clearances came to a head in the early nineteenth century, most of the Acts of Parliament were initiated by Scots noblemen and opposed by English ones as inhuman and cruel.

The Jacobite rebellion was led by a man who was as much Italian and French as he was Scots, and as soon as the 1745 failed he went back to Italy and never returned. He didn’t answer any petitions from the people he’d helped to ruin, and turned into an alcoholic wife-beater. The Scots were abandoned. But there were a lot of Englishmen ruined, too. The Jacobite rebellion drew in the strongly Catholic county of Lancashire, and other Catholic strongholds, and many Scots refused to take part, as they were Protestants and had no desire to bring back the Papists. It was observed that Scotland could have been a great nation, if its people weren’t so busy fighting each other. Clan against clan, the despair of every monarch, whether lowland Scot or Englishman (or even German) who tried to rule them.

In the Georgian era, Britain’s relationship with Ireland was relatively smooth. Only relatively, though, and I don’t even want to begin on the headache that is the Irish Question, as Gladstone put it. Being married to a second generation Irishman, I kind of straddle both worlds, and even thinking about it hurts.

It’s amazing how much of our own baggage we bring into what we write without even noticing, and the American concept of equality and democracy all factors into it. To a European, the differences jar and are obvious, but since most of the readers are Americans they don’t notice. And why should they? It’s not a matter of schooling, it’s a matter of understanding, and as I learned when I started to write contemporaries, it’s damned hard to ‘get it’ if you’re not brought up to it.

Since I started writing contemporary romances, albeit paranormals, and writing American heroes and heroines, I’ve become even more aware of the differences in attitude and approach. The big difference is that I have American editors who never hesitate in putting me right (thank goodness!). But American writers of historicals tend to have American editors, so not only inaccuracies of fact get through, but attitude and assumptions. Then I discovered that Americans have classes, and they are so complex that I can’t get my stupid British head around them.

When I wrote Chemistry of Evil, I wanted to make my hero, Evan Howell, New York old money. Although born in the class of rich WASP easterners, he went to jail, and several sources assured me that would make him unacceptable, although he might have been accepted by West Coast old money, as they were a completely different set of people. Argh! I got so confused by the arcane never-written-always-understood rules that I gave up and made Evan a different kind of person altogether. I studied a bit more and I’ve tried again, in the upcoming Red Heat. Please let me know if I got it wrong. I had never realised that American society is as full as classes, albeit of a different kind, than the British, and it wasn’t all based on money. If Evan was as rich as Croesus, I was assured that he wouldn’t have been acceptable to the upper echelons of New York old money.

Ten years ago Laura Kinsale, Mary Jo Putney and even Jo Beverley, who is after all British by birth, were completely new names to me. Thanks to a wonderful lady I will refer to as The Duchess, since she’s a bit shy of putting herself out there, I was introduced to the wonders of the American authored historical romance. I wallowed in Liz Carlyle, the ladies above and many others, and since she didn’t send any guidance in her ‘care packages,’ boxes of books I opened like it was Christmas, I discovered for myself which I loved and which I didn’t. There are authors lauded for their accuracy that I just can’t read because the assumptions are so wrong. They get the historical details right, but not the way society worked. Maids as best friends, dukes as spies, ladies posing as servants, well born virgins falling into bed with the nearest man with no mention or consideration of marriage, people disappearing from society for months on end with nobody wondering about them: none of these work well for me. Below stairs was as stratified, if not more, than above.

But in the interests of accuracy, I have to say that of course some people considered themselves superior to others. It could be brain-power, it could be wealth. It could be family and in Britain, family networks often superseded anything else. It could be “birth,” but that’s where one of the misunderstandings

arise, and it’s a subtle and tricky difference to understand. You were as good as your social network, and that depended on family influence to a great extent. In the county, the gentry were a tight-knit network of nepotism and influence, blending with other officials, like the vicars and bishops, and the lawyers. They weren’t, however, a homogenous class and they didn’t view themselves as such. The prosperous shopkeeper, the farmer and the country vicar might have similar interests. The aristocracy were similarly linked, and then there were the wealthy Cits, a very underplayed section of society in the modern romance novel. (Would you read a book about a Cit, one of the wealthy London merchants and bankers? I’ve long wanted to write one).

And where do I get this from? The historian’s friend, primary data. The letters, books, parish records, journals, newspapers, diaries, novels, poetry, account books and legal records written at the time. Pope’s “Rape of the Lock,” the collections of the letters of society gossips Horace Walpole and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, novels like Fielding’s Tom Jones and Richardson’s Pamela, the scandalous Newgate Calendar, periodicals like The Spectator and The Lady’s Monthly Museum, accounts of the proceedings of Parliament, parish records and court rolls. And many of these have been put online, so that makes it even better. Sometimes I stop long enough to write something. And because this is primary data, I have to form an opinion on them in order to write a cohesive book.

As they say, your mileage may vary. But this is mine.

Welcome to our very first Duck Chat!

I’ve been wanting to do author interviews for a while now, but for one reason or another life never wanted to let me get started working on the idea.  I’m happy to say things have changed and you’ll be chatting with some terrific authors every now and then from here on out.  So whenever you see our new spiked-do friends over there, you know you’re going to be in for a fun surprise and lots of chatting!

Our first Duck Chat interviewee is historical romance author Monica McCarty.  Monica has been in a constant whirlwind since her first book was released back in 2007. Read on to learn more about Monica, her life, and her books.

Monica lives in California with her family. Her husband Dave is a former professional baseball player and was part of the 2004 World Series Red Sox team. She’s a former copyright litigation attorney.  After practicing law a few years, Monica decided to take her love of research and writing in a new direction, which has been a huge gain for romance readers.  The MacLeods of Skye trilogy was Monica’s supersonic entry into romance publication.  Highlander Untamed, Highlander Unmasked, and Highlander Unchained were all hits and led to her second trilogy featuring Clan Campbell, Highland Warrior, Highland Outlaw, and Highland Scoundrel.  Warrior hits the shelves today. So after reading Syb’s review and saying hello to Monica, hop on over to Amazon.com or Borders and grab your copy hot off the presses.

Let’s chat!

Duck Chat:  If you could retire any question and never, ever have it asked again, what would it be? Feel free to answer it.

Monica McCarty:  LOL, I don’t think I’ve been doing this long enough to be tired of any question. But the hardest question for me to answer is the quick “what’s your book about.” You think it would be so easy, but trying to condense a 100k word book into a couple of lines in the most intriguing way isn’t easy.

DC:  I’ve heard writers often say their stories take them in surprising directions or dialogue flows from some unknown place. Is it the same with you? Do your characters surprise you sometimes?

MM:  Definitely. I write from a pretty well-thought-through synopsis, but it’s more like a roadmap for me. I like to know the major turning points in the story and the black moment, but I always leave room for the story to unfold on its own. I also always keep a notepad with me (especially by the bed and shower) so I can write down the scenes that come to me—it’s almost always dialogue.

DC:  Do you ever argue with your characters while you’re writing?

MM: It’s no use arguing: the characters are always right.

DC:  Tell us about your new trilogy featuring the bad boys of the Highlands, Clan Campbell.

MM:  The Campbell trilogy starts off with Jamie Campbell, a secondary character from Highlander Unmasked. Book #2 belongs to his sister Lizzie (also introduced in Highlander Unmasked) and the third to their half-brother Duncan. The Campbells usually get the role of the “bad guy” in romances (and in history), so I thought it would be fun to let them play hero for once. They also had a ton of enemies, which provides great fodder for an author. One of the best-known feuds with the MacGregors takes center stage in the first two books, the third is with the Gordons. Like my first series, you’ll find plenty of strapping lads in plaid and “ripped from the headlines” history (i.e. Law and Order).

DC:  Do you have a favorite bad boy?

MM:  Bad boy in romance: Kenny from Lady Be Good by SEP. Bad boy on TV: Sawyer from Lost.

DC:  What is sure to distract you from sitting down and working/writing?

MM:  I suspect I’m like most writers, if I’m in the mood to be distracted just about anything will do it. The main culprits are email, the internet, and my kids (not necessarily in that order!). On the other hand, if I’m on a roll, only having to pick up the kids from school or get dinner on the table distracts me.

DC:  How do you feel your writing has evolved since your first book? Do you think you write your male or female differently now than you did when you started writing?

MM:  I hope it’s improved, LOL, not only at storytelling but with the craft of writing. I’ve learned so much through RWA it’s amazing. As far as the male/female characters…hmm. I’m not sure. I think there are probably subtle differences. For example, with the men, I’m always asking myself, “Would a guy really do (or say) that?” to try to create as authentic male characters as possible.

DC:  We know the historical genre is your forte, but is there another genre you’d like to try your hand at some day?

MM:  I’d love to do some kind of contemporary “history mystery” along the lines of The DaVinci Code or The Last Templar, but alas I don’t have any brilliant ideas.

DC:  What advice would you give to your younger self?

MM:  Try to relax a little—I’m a definite “type A” personality, LOL. For writing it would be to try to not take rejection so personally. As I’ve learned more about the industry, I realize there are so many business reasons that come into the decision about whether to buy a book.

DC:  Okay, these are the usual questions asked of authors in most every interview, but inquiring minds want to know:

MM:  Favorite Historical Author: I’ll narrow it down to authors currently writing historicals: either Lisa Kleypas or Liz Carlyle
Favorite Historical Book: Toughest question of all time, LOL. Probably either Judith McNaught’s Almost Heaven or Julie Garwood’s The Bride.
Favorite Contemporary Author: Susan Elizabeth Philips
Favorite Contemporary Book: Lady Be Good
Favorite Paranormal Author Does Time Travel count? Karen Marie Moning (I don’t read much Paranormal.)
Favorite Paranormal Book: Kiss of the Highlander
Can I do romantic suspense, too? I love Shannon McKenna . Extreme Danger has one of my all time favorite heroes ever.

DC:  If you had never become an author, what do you think you would be doing right now?

MM:  Probably practicing law in some fashion.

Gwen’s Lightning Round:

- dark or milk chocolate?   milk (but I’m not much of a chocolate fan…seriously)
- smooth or chunky peanut butter?   chunky
- heels or flats?    heels
- coffee or tea?    both daily (addict anyone?)
- summer or winter?   winter
- mountains or beach?   mountains
- mustard or mayonnaise?   mustard
- flowers or candy?   candy
- pockets or purse?   purse (I have a bit of a handbag “problem” as my husband calls it)
- Pepsi or Coke?   Pepsi
- print or ebook?    print (but I love my Kindle!)

Last-minute fun stuff:

What is your favorite word? Bedtime
What is your least favorite word? “Mom…!”
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Watching a good movie or reading a good book
What sound or noise do you love? Water (i.e. streams, brooks, waterfalls)
What sound or noise do you hate? Fingernails on the chalkboard
What is your favorite curse word? I don’t curse! (Right, probably the “f” word)
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Broadway singer (unfortunately I have no voice)
What profession would you not like to do? Maid, cook, nurse and psychologist (Wait! I already do those.)
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? “Welcome, you sure took a long time in getting here!”

Thank you, Monica!

For those of you who have any questions or comments for Monica, she’ll be stopping by throughout the day, so this is your chance!

Shannon C.’s review of A Woman of Virtue by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance released 27 Feb 01 by Pocket

There are some books I like to gulp down, because they are exciting and quick and allow me to lose myself for a few hours. Then there are the books that slowly sink their hooks into me, and I find myself reluctant to read quickly lest the story come to an end. I found Liz Carlyle’s A Woman of Virtue to be one of these latter stories. Unfortunately, that need to savor meant that it took me much longer to finish the book, and by the time I did I was kind of ready to be done.

Lord David Delacourt is a dissolute rake with a horrible reputation. Cecilia Markham-Sands is from one of the oldest and nmost respected families in the ton. If this sounds familliar, well, I thought so, too, at first, and then was surprised by the direction the book took. David and Cecilia meet when David mistakes Cecilia for a whore that a friend had procured for him, and they are caught in a compromising position. But Cecilia is stubborn and refuses to wed David, and so, with the help of David’s brother-in-law, the Reverend Mr. Cole Amherst, she concocts a scheme to retain her reputation by becoming engaged to David for real and then crying off.

Six years later, David is thrown back into Cecilia’s path when Cole tricks him into losing a card game, the consequence being that now David must take over the running of a mission for former prostitutes that Cecilia also works at. When these two meet again, sparks fly, and they are soon forced to examine their relationship and to work closely together, especially when residents of the mission begin turning up dead.

There’s a lot that I liked about this book. Ms. Carlyle’s writing style feels very authentic, and I never felt like I was reading about some modern reenactors. I also appreciated that Ms. Carlyle didn’t insult my intelligence by overexplaining the motivations of her characters. And what nuanced characters they are! Both David and Cecilia were well-drawn, and I believed wholeheartedly in their romance. Both of them had serious issues to deal with, as opposed to the kind of issues that could be explained with a few minutes’ conversation. And given the length of this book, I felt convinced of the evolution of the characters from mutual antagonism to attraction to blossoming love.

The secondary characters are interesting as well. I’m definitely going to go read Cole and Jonet’s book sometime soon, as, while I was able to keep up fine not having done so, they both intrigued me. I also loved Inspector De Rohan, and I hope that somewhere out there his story is told. And then, of course, there’s Kembal, David’s valet, and Etta, Cecilia’s maid, who provide moments of comic relief.

Unfortunately, parts of the book did drag on a bit. The mystery of the deaths of the prostitutes took up time that I would have preferred to spend learning more about David and Cecilia. And David does take just a shade too long revealing his secrets. In fact, the middle dragged so much in places that it took me a good two weeks to finally finish the book.

Aside from bits that sagged too much, this is a lovely book, with characters I came to care about, and a compelling romance. It didn’t entirely work for me because of the parts that dragged, but I do appreciate reading an author with such a definite talent, and I’m hoping her next book will catch me in a moment when I can appreciate it and savor it more.
Grade: B

Summary:

In the months since her husband’s death, Cecilia, Lady Walrafen, has hidden her emptiness by devoting herself to a charity mission for the poor women of London’s slums. But when the man who once tried to ruin her reputation turns up at the Nazareth Society, Cecilia is outraged.

The womanizing Lord Delacourt is vain, vindictive, and merciless. But he’s a man who honors his wagers. And when one of them goes wrong, landing him in a charity mission for prostitutes, he comes face-to face with the young woman whose reputation he once nearly ruined—and whose lips he has never forgotten. Soon, however, evil is stalking the women of the Nazareth Society, and only Delacourt knows how to guard Cecilia from the consequences of her own principles.

Read an excerpt.

Liviania’s review of Never Romance a Rake (Neville Family Trilogy, Book 3) by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance release by Pocket Star 22 July 08

I doubt anyone who read the other entries in the Neville Family Series can resist Baron Rothwell’s story. But even those unfamiliar with the other two can enjoy this novel.  The plot relies on several cliches, but Liz Carlyle uses them well.  This book uses the gambling set up, when the slimy Comte de Valigny offers his daughter for a wager.  Kieran doesn’t have much of a conscience, but he knows he’s her best option between the two men at the table.  Camille’s willing to take any option if it means marriage and a child.  What really makes this trope work is Carlyle examining why Camille would choose to gambled away.  She’s a survivor, caught between the legacy of her neglectful and selfish parents ever and a better life – if she marries and bears a child soon.  She has no desire to fall for a rake like Kieran, but she finds herself doing so anyways as she manages to observe pieces of his better side.  She’s determined and fierce and the perfect match for the self-destructive Kieran.

Carlyle makes Kieran’s character work by not holding back.  Like any real person, he’s not all bad.  He obviously cares for his remaining family and his servants.  They, in return, see his better side and wish he would stop his destructive behavior.  However, he is not simply misunderstood.  He gladly drinks, gambles, and whores about because he believes he deserves to be punished.  His abusive childhood and damaging first love guaranteed his terrible self-image.

Never Romance a Rake retains Kieran’s black humor.  While all three of the books involve dark subjects, this concluding volume contains the most darkness.  (As such, it contains the least Kemble, as he would be out of place.  He still shows up enough to make Camille and I happy.)  He’s terribly prickly and unwilling to let Camille into his heart since his lifestyle is finally destroying his health.

In Never Romance a Rake, I wondered often while reading how Carlyle could possibly deliver a happily ever after, when Rothwell’s destiny seemed to be the grave.  She did make him suffer for it, although events do conspire to grant Kieran and Camille an extremely happy ending.  Some parts seem almost too lucky, but it’s hard to begrudge the character’s their good fortune when they survived some of the world’s worst parenting.  It’s a pleasure to watch these two damaged, self-reliant characters learn to trust and love each other.

Grade: B+

Summary:

Baron Rothewell lives a dark, shuttered existence by day, and a life of reckless abandon by night. Scarred by a childhood filled with torment and deprivation, Rothewell cares very little anyone or anything. His life on the edge of ruin suits him—until he meets a man who just might be his nemesis. The Comte de Valigny likes to play deeply and dangerously, but Rothewell’s recklessness is undeterred. Until one night when de Valigny wagers something just a little more valuable than gold.

Mademoiselle Marchand is a desperate woman in a strange land, and her pleading eyes seem to swallow Lord Rothewell body and soul—assuming he still has one. Now the baron must play his hand with the utmost care, for at last something meaningful is at stake . . .

Read an excerpt here.

Okay, so the awarding of these books is waaaay overdue. Mea Culpa, I plead too much sun. As you may remember, about a month ago we offered up 10 copies of each book in Liz Carlyle’s latest trilogy: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke and Never Romance a Rake. Then it somehow got lost in the shuffle. Well, I finally got my act together, so click on the cut to see who won.

Cara: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Meared: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Ilona: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Little Lamb Lost: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Lyra: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Katharina: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Natasha: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Maureen: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Emma: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Ninoska Suarez: Never Lie to a Lady, Never Deceive a Duke

Cheryl C.: Never Romance a Rake

Jess: Never Romance a Rake

Danny: Never Romance a Rake

Phyl: Never Romance a Rake

Rosario: Never Romance a Rake

CrystalGB: Never Romance a Rake

Lacey: Never Romance a Rake

Marg: Never Romance a Rake

Willa: Never Romance a Rake

BethanyA: Never Romance a Rake

Congratulations! Please send your mailing address to redwyne at gmail dot com. Put “Liz Carlyle Winner” in the subject line. Also include the titles you won. Yay!

Liviania’s review of Never Deceive a Duke (Neville Family Trilogy, Book Two) by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance released by Pocket Star 24 Jul 07

In Never Lie to a Lady, Gareth acted the runner-up.  He loved the heroine and offered her a good marriage, but Xanthia just didn’t feel for him like she did Lord Nash.  Liz Carlyle guides him from being second best to the hero quite well.  She starts by making him a Duke, through an inconvenient death of a man who lacked children.  Of course, he didn’t lack a young and beautiful wife.  Carlyle endears herself to me by not making Antonia a twice-married virgin. 

For Antonia was married before the Duke of Warenham.  Her first marriage traumatized her, leaving her with the urge to sleepwalk and a few mental problems.  Instead of therapy her father married her to a tyrant.  She’s got every right to be depressed and scarred by her past, and her emotions feel very real when she discusses her pain.  Unfortunately, she’s a bit boring.  I can tell you she’s beautiful and needy due to her awful past, but very little else.  It stands out compared to the fullness of Gareth’s characterization.

Gareth was Gabriel, a half-Jewish bastard and despised by his English family.  He was first raised in the Jewish community to know the traditions but still be an outsider.  Then he came to live with his father’s family were he was treated horribly, then thrown out after a terrible accident.  At this point he ended up on a pirate ship.  We all know what happens to pretty boys at sea, even if Antonia doesn’t.  Still, he manages to reinvent himself as Gareth with the help of the Nevilles.  Inheriting the dukedom forces him to reconcile the two identities.

Meanwhile, someone wants to kill Antonia and it’s looking like the former Duke’s death was no mistake.  My favorite character, George Kemble, comes to the rescue.  While he and Baron Rothwell entertain me, they take over the story.  In a series of humorous scenes, Kemble questions the servants who all realize what he’s up too.  Humorous, entertaining . . . completely unlike Antonia and Gareth’s angst fest.  They save the book by pulling the focus of the bland romance.

Overall, I enjoyed the novel.  The mystery managed some surprising twists, and the characters never acted too dumb in their search for the culprit.  (They did make some silly mistakes, but not enough to be bothersome.)  My favorite minor characters made lengthy appearances and the hero got a nice character arc.  But while the tragedy was there for Antonia and Gareth, their romantic happiness was hard to buy.

Never Decieve a Duke is the weakest in the trilogy, but still worth reading.  If you’re looking for a romance that remains light while dealing with some darker issues, you’ll probably enjoy this one.

Grade: C

Summary:

They call her the porcelain princess…

With her fragile beauty and regal bearing, the Duchess of Warneham knows how to keep her admirers at a distance. Twice wed and twice widowed, Antonia has vowed never again to marry; never again to surrender her freedom. But when her husband’s death is deemed suspicious, and his long-lost heir returns to seize control of the dukedom, she finds that fate has placed her future in yet another man’s hands—but not just any man.

They call him a cold-hearted bastard . . .

Deep in London’s docklands, Gareth Lloyd runs Neville Shipping with an iron fist. Unrecognizable as the starving orphan who was abandoned by his family and sent an ocean away from home, Gareth has put his troubled past behind him. That is, until the Duke of Warneham is found dead, and Gareth turns out to be the dynasty’s last living heir. Wrenched from his solitude, Gareth neither wants nor needs the honors and obligations of nobility—especially the Duke’s all-too-tempting widow… Or does he?

Read an excerpt here.

Liviania’s review of Never Lie to a Lady (Neville Family Trilogy, Book 1) by Liz Carlyle
Historical romance released by Pocket Star 19 Jun 07

Before reading the Neville Family Trilogy, I had no experience with Liz Carlyle. I recognized the name and knew Sybil was head-over-heels for the latest book, but I didn’t know what to expect. The opening of Never Lie to a Lady disappointed me. Xanthia Neville meets Lord Nash on a terrace and they proceed to snog, an action both of them consider ill-considered and out of character. Xanthia thinks about how she drank a little, but neither of them had the excuse of drunkenness. A bit scared that I’d agreed to review the entire trilogy, Carlyle spent the rest of the book wowing me so much that I can happily ignore the first chapter.

Carlyle makes me believe in Xanthia’s independence. She does not desire marriage because that would mean her property, one-fourth of Neville Shipping, would become her husband’s property. She enjoys trade and would never give up her business for a man. Of course, she doesn’t give up men completely. She lost her virginity long before the story begins with no regrets. She knows the ton would find her lifestyle scandalous, but only worries about it for the sake of her niece, whom she’s chaperoning for the Season. Xanthia’s smart, sensible, and aware of her wants.

Lord Nash is mildly scandalous himself. He’s of mixed blood – part Russian – and made a large portion of his wealth through gambling. His brother, the politician, is the respectable one. He wants to court Xanthia, but she tries to stay away from him until two men from the government ask her to investigate whether he’s a smuggler. This introduces my favorite character, George Kemble.

He’s snarky, insouciant, and almost every line of his dialogue makes me laugh. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but this barb might be it:

Kemble looked at her incredulously. “This afternoon?” he echoed. “But we are talking about the Government here, Miss Neville. There will be forms. Procedures. Perhaps even a committee or two.”

In fact, I quickly looked at the other two books in the trilogy to see if either of them where Kemble’s. Alas not, although he shows up in all of them. Hopefully Carlyle will one day correct this tragic oversight.

In addition the wonderful characters, Carlyle controls the plot. As in most romances with a plot outside of the relationship, most of the action happens during the climax. Unlike those, it isn’t shunted to the side during the bulk of the story. Xanthia remembers that she’s supposed to be spying on Nash, and does so to prove his innocence. She holds meetings with Kemble and his boss to discuss what she’s discovered. It prevents the ending from being an abrupt, “Oh yeah, there was something about smuggling at the beginning.”

I apologize for doubting Carlyle. Never Lie to a Lady is a solid romance and an excellent start to a satisfying trilogy. Now I need to search for more books by her.

Grade: A-

Summary
The notorious Marquis of Nash is a creature of the night; his wealth and his title provide but a tenuous entrée into polite society. With his Eastern European manners and dark elegance, Nash tempts women even as he tempts the scandalmongers. Rumors abound of the men he has bankrupted and the hearts he has broken. But when Nash leaves his lair for a rare foray into the ton, and enjoys a moment of heated passion with a mysterious lady in the dark, he develops an obsession which will lead him into the hellish world of smugglers, spies, and political intrigue as the Continent edges nearer to war.

Xanthia Neville has arrived in London to expand her family’s most lucrative business holding—Neville Shipping. With her brother Rothewell all too happy to waste his life in debauchery, Xanthia opens up shop in London’s grimy Docklands, and sets about expanding the family fortune, all the while flaunting the ton’s silly strictures about how a lady ought to behave. But London, she soon learns, is not Barbados.

And when the British Government approaches Rothewell to ask the family’s help in exposing a dangerous arms dealer, Xanthia must enter society after all, only to find her loyalties torn. Someone in London is fueling the conflict on the Balkan Peninsula by smuggling illicit weapons into the Aegean—and there is only one likely suspect. The Marquis of Nash has the resources, the contacts and, quite possibly, the deeply divided loyalties. But can Xanthia’s subterfuge prove him a traitor to the Crown before her heart is broken?
Read an excerpt here.

Devon’s review of Never Romance a Rake (Neville Family Trilogy, Book 3) by Liz Carlyle
Historical Romance released by Pocket 22 Jul 08

Liz Carlyle can always be counted upon to deliver. I haven’t read all of her books, but I have read a number of them. She writes great characters and passionate, romantic stories. Her novels are meaty and often a bit dark. Carlyle deals with the darker side of nineteenth century social system-the strictures placed upon people by birth, ethnicity, classes and money. No fake rakes here. The heroes and heroines of her books have troubled pasts, and are in need of love and the redemption it provides. Never Romance a Rake looked to be another compelling read, and Sybil has raved about it. So was it “the historical of the summer?”

To be honest, I don’t read enough historicals these days to feel qualified to make a judgment. But the book was a satisfying read with much to recommend it. The hero, Baron Rothewell (Kieran), lives a dissolute existence. His troubled child- and young adulthood have left him so damaged that he spends all his time drinking, gambling and consorting with shady sorts. At one late night session, he is startled when the slimy Comte de Valigny offers up his daughter as a prize. He is intrigued by the woman’s beauty and fiery demeanor, and wins the hand in order to keep her from going to a total creep. Kieran has now won Camille’s hand in marriage, although he doesn’t think he wants it.

Camille was great. She has had a rough life herself, with two amazingly self-centered parents. Now all she wants is the baby and the financial stability that marriage to Kieran will provide. No stranger to dealing with outsize personalities, she is more than a match for Kieran. She speaks up for herself and stands up to him and others. But she also had a kindness and an empathy that shone through. She and Kieran had great chemistry and I really wanted both them to get their HEA.

But something kept this from being a keeper for me. I think it was Kieran. He was very troubled, and has almost ruined his health. I liked him, but I was a bit put off. He acts like a dick for awhile, and I was just like, eh. The gambling drunk thing doesn’t really sweep me off my feet. There was also a familiarity about the proceedings: the troubled rake, the daughter being gambled away.The book definitely kept my interest. I liked Camille in particular and was intrigued by the larger cast. I’m going to go back and read the other two in the trilogy now. While it’s not among my favorites, I don’t think that fans of the author, or readers looking for an angsty historical, will be disappointed.

Grade: B

The Summary:
Baron Rothewell lives a dark, shuttered existence by day, and a life of reckless abandon by night. Scarred by a childhood filled with torment and deprivation, Rothewell cares very little anyone or anything. His life on the edge of ruin suits him—until he meets a man who just might be his nemesis. The Comte de Valigny likes to play deeply and dangerously, but Rothewell’s recklessness is undeterred. Until one night when de Valigny wagers something just a little more valuable than gold.

Mademoiselle Marchand is a desperate woman in a strange land, and her pleading eyes seem to swallow Lord Rothewell body and soul—assuming he still has one. Now the baron must play his hand with the utmost care, for at last something meaningful is at stake . . .

Read an excerpt here

The other books in the series:

Never Romance a Rake, the final book in Liz Carlyle’s latest trilogy, was released on 22 July 2008. We know that Sybil loved it, and by clicking on that link, you can read a great excerpt as well.

Baron Rothewell lives a dark, shuttered existence by day, and a life of reckless abandon by night. Scarred by a childhood filled with torment and deprivation, Rothewell cares very little anyone or anything. His life on the edge of ruin suits him—until he meets a man who just might be his nemesis. The Comte de Valigny likes to play deeply and dangerously, but Rothewell’s recklessness is undeterred. Until one night when de Valigny wagers something just a little more valuable than gold.

Mademoiselle Marchand is a desperate woman in a strange land, and her pleading eyes seem to swallow Lord Rothewell body and soul—assuming he still has one. Now the baron must play his hand with the utmost care, for at last something meaningful is at stake . . .

In honor of (to quote Sybil) “the historical of the summer”, TGTBTU presents…

A Contest!

We have ten copies of each book in the trilogy to give to give away! That’s right, thirty books!

The first two books:

	Read an excerpt
	Read an excerpt

To enter the contest, answer the following question: What’s your favorite Liz Carlyle book? And if you haven’t read any of her books before, tell us why you should win. In your comment, please specify which book(s) you want. You can enter to win one, two or all three! Contest will be open through Friday, August 1.

Good luck!

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

Never Romance a Rake by Liz Carlyle

This is THE book. Yes THE book. The one that I have wanted since Thanksgiving when I closed The School for Heiresses (see my review) and thought OMG I MUST have his book.

I had no clue I would have to wait this long. Now I am sure you haven’t noticed, but I am not a patient person. I know, I know, you don’t believe it… but it is true. THE WAIT – is almost over. The Excerpt… just might explain why you need this book. Why you want this book. Yes this is the historical of the summer, the one you didn’t even know you needed to be counting down the minutes too.

You are most welcome.

Baron Rothewell lives a dark, shuttered existence by day, and a life of reckless abandon by night. Scarred by a childhood filled with torment and deprivation, Rothewell cares very little anyone or anything. His life on the edge of ruin suits him—until he meets a man who just might be his nemesis. The Comte de Valigny likes to play deeply and dangerously, but Rothewell’s recklessness is undeterred. Until one night when de Valigny wagers something just a little more valuable than gold.

Mademoiselle Marchand is a desperate woman in a strange land, and her pleading eyes seem to swallow Lord Rothewell body and soul—assuming he still has one. Now the baron must play his hand with the utmost care, for at last something meaningful is at stake . . .

Click here to read the excerpt on LizC’s site.

POND EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT FROM

Never Romance a Rake by Liz Carlyle

Once inside the drawing room, Lady Nash excused herself to confer with one of the footmen regarding the coffee service. Most of the dinner guests were playing cards now at one of two tables which had been pulled to the center of the room. Rather than hover over them, Camille drifted around the perimeter, admiring Lord Nash’s collection of French landscapes. She was particularly absorbed by one when she felt a light touch at her elbow.

She turned to see one of Nash’s younger sisters at her side. “Cards are so frightfully dull, are they not, Mademoiselle Marchand?” she said, smiling.

Camille smiled back. “They can be, oui.”

The young woman stuck out a hand. “Lady Phaedra Northampton,” she said. “You cannot possibly have got all these names the first time round.”

“Merci, I did not,” Camille confessed.

Lady Phaedra was perhaps a bit past twenty, and remarkably pretty despite her gold spectacles. She gestured at the wall. “You are an admirer of French classicism, mademoiselle?”

Camille turned back to the painting. “I like Poussin,” she admitted, pointing at her favorite elements in the painting. “I like his subtle use of color here. It allows his extraordinary skill with line and light to emerge.”

Just then, Lord Rothewell approached. “Do not let this one goad you,” he murmured, leaning toward Camille. “She imagines herself more intelligent than us mere mortals.”

Lady Phaedra drew herself up an inch. “Well, at least I know my rosa centifolias from my rosa rugosas, which is more than I can say for some people,” she answered, her eyes following Rothewell. Then she softened her tone, and returned her gaze to Camille. “As to the painting, Mademoiselle Marchand, I love it, too.”

Lady Phaedra’s mother drifted toward them. “Yes, I have always thought that one especially pretty,” she remarked, motioning at the painting. “The hills, the trees, and those tiny little horses. Very clever indeed. But I prefer the kind Nash has upstairs. The ones with all the bowls full of fruit and such.”

“Still lifes, Mamma,” said Lady Phaedra indulgently. “They are called still lifes.”

“But they are all still,” the dowager complained. “They are paintings. They cannot very well go anywhere, can they?”

Lady Phaedra chose not to argue with this logic. “Nash’s late mother was of Russian extraction,” she explained. “She had quite good taste in art. As Mother says, there is a collection of fine Flemish still lifes in the library upstairs, if you would care to see them.”

“A capital notion,” said Rothewell out of nowhere.

Camille spun around to see he was studying the Poussin as if it held the secrets of the universe. Her breath caught at the intensity of his gaze.

“Lovely, then,” said Lady Phaedra cheerfully. “Up we go.”

The dowager whacked her daughter lightly on the arm with her fan. “Don’t be obtuse, Phaedra,” she said. “The happy couple might wish to go alone.”

“An excellent notion, ma’am,” said Rothewell. “I believe I am developing a fondness for art.”

“And roses,” interjected Lady Phaedra, grinning. “Did you know that, Mademoiselle Marchand? Lord Rothewell has a vast knowledge of rose gardening. You must ask him to expound upon it sometime.”

“Thank you, Phae.” Rothewell bowed stiffly. “But at present, I find myself equally fascinated by painting.”

The dowager had taken Camille by the hand. “The paintings are in the far end of the library. If the room is locked, you’ll find a key under the vase by the door.” Then she smiled and leaned nearer. “We will not send out a search party if you linger.”

Lord Rothewell watched Camille from the corner of one eye to see if she would hesitate. The notion of privacy was as appealing as it was disquieting. He turned, and offered his arm to her.

“The talk about roses,” she asked as they went up the stairs, “what did it mean?”

“What, Phae?” Rothewell looked down, feeling faintly embarrassed. “Nothing. She is simply teasing me.”

“Oui? About what?”

“About a foolish white lie I once told her—an excuse to escape a tea I did not wish to attend.”

“I see.” Camille seemed to hesitate. “And tell me, monsieur, are you lying now?”

Rothewell stopped on the steps. “About what?”

Her dark eyes flashed with some inscrutable emotion. “About your fondness for paintings, of course.”

He let his eyes roam over her face. “Yes,” he said honestly. “I don’t give a damn for art or roses, if you must know.”

“Ah,” she said softly. “Do you know anything at all of art?”

Rothewell hesitated. He doubtless looked the worst sort of rustic in her eyes. But he’d be damned if he’d pretend to be something he was not—even for her. “I know blue from red,” he finally answered. “And oils from . . . the other kind. That is the extent of it.”

“Oui? And yet you wish to see more paintings?”

“What I wish is to speak with you in private,” he finally snapped. “And I can see no other way of doing so. Forgive my presumption. Would you rather not be alone?”

“Alone should suit me very well indeed,” she said, starting up the stairs again. “For I have something to say to you, monsieur. And I am not afraid of you. I think you know that much by now.”

She should have been afraid. If she had sensed for one moment the thoughts which ran through his head as he watched her silk skirts slither over her hips as she climbed the stairs, yes, she would have been very afraid indeed.

The library was easy to find. A pair of vases on pedestals flanked the entrance. Rothewell found the key, and locked the door behind them. Inside, the room was faintly musty, like any library which was little used. A pair of sconces burned just beyond the doors, but the rest of the room lay in shadows. He found a candle and lit it, then strolled a little deeper into the room. An entire wall had been given over to paintings with sconces placed every few feet between them.

“Shall I light the others?” he asked.

“Merci, but the candle will do,” she said. “We are not here, I think, to look at paintings?”

“No, we are not.” He set the candle on one of the reading tables, and turned to face her. “We are here because I owe you an apology.”

Her finely etched eyebrows rose. Finally, he had shocked her. “Mon dieu, does everyone mean to apologize to me this night?”

“I can speak for no one save myself,” he replied.

She smiled almost sourly, and half turned away. “You refer to your mistress, Mrs. Ambrose, n’est-ce pas?”

Rothewell followed her as she strolled past toward the wall of paintings. “I do,” he answered. “That scene yesterday at Pamela’s—I take full responsibility for it. It was unfair to you.”

“Oui, it was.” She looked back over her shoulder. “And unfair to Madame Ambrose, I think?”

“That, too,” he said grimly.

Camille turned around, and he thought he saw a flicker of pain in her wide, bottomless eyes. For an instant, she hesitated. “I cannot stop you, my lord, from keeping a mistress,” she said after a long, uncertain moment had passed. “But so long as we live together, I shan’t have this affaire d’amour of yours flung in my face. Do you understand me, Rothewell? I will not be humiliated by my husband as my mother was. I will not.”

Her voice was raw, but despite it, Camille stood before him, cool and exquisite, like an ornament of spun glass placed just beyond his reach. Something inside his chest seemed to twist. He suddenly wished to kiss her again. To hold her and kiss her until her beauty was in dishabille. Until her inky hair was tumbling down and tangled in his fingers. Until her mouth was softly parted and her eyes were somnolent with desire. His weakness angered him. Ruthlessly, he shoved the thoughts away.

“Our discussion of Mrs. Ambrose is finished, Camille,” he said, setting his hands on her slender shoulders. “I have apologized.”

Camille’s eyes hardened. “It is far from finished, monsieur,” she gritted. “I demand your word as a gentleman.”

“What, jealous?”

Her eyes sparked with fire. “Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” she retorted, her voice a hot whisper. “You would like to have that power over me. To hold my heart in your hands. But I am not such a fool, Rothewell. I will not give you my heart. I can ill afford it.”

His hands tightened on her arms. “I have asked you to be my wife,” he gritted. “And I am asking you to be honorable and faithful. Not one thing more do I require of you, madam. Do not put words in my mouth.”

“Très bien,” she snapped. “Then keep your affaires private, monsieur.”

He gave her a little shake. “At least say my name, damn it,” he growled. “Stop calling me monsieur, as if you just met me.”

“Fine,” she said, “Lord Rothewell.”

“Not that name,” he growled. “Kieran. If you cannot dredge up a little indignation at the thought of my keeping a mistress do you think you could at the very least use my Christian name?”

“So, you mean to be a faithful husband?” she challenged, her eyes wide and mocking. “Oh, do not lie to me, my lord. You are a rake and a rogue to your very core, and we both of us know it.”

Something inside him snapped. He jerked her hard against him, and set his mouth to hers in a kiss which was more brutish than tender. His mouth took hers hungrily, lust shooting through him like a hot, living thing. He wanted her angry. Wanted her, he supposed, to slap him senseless. To shut out the truth of her words. He thrust his tongue into her mouth claiming her, forcing her head back. Forcing her to submit. It was a fierce, fleeting thing, and when they came apart, her eyes blazed, and her breath came sharp and short.

“There,” he said, his own breath coming roughly. “Now do not claim, Camille, that you are so indifferent to me. Use my Christian name. Cease this foolish pretense of yours. Stop acting as if you mean to go to the marriage bed like some lamb to the slaughter.”

A rosy flush ran up her throat. “You are very full of yourself, Kieran,” she said in her quiet, husky voice. “And trust me, I am no lamb.”

“No, you are not, are you?” His voice, too, had dropped an octave. “This is going to be a marriage, Camille. If we can do no more, we should at least try to be . . . I don’t know. Amiable, I suppose.”

Amiable? Rothewell wished to jerk the word back as soon as it left his lips. He was not amiable—to anyone.

But Camille was watching him, and for an instant, the hard mask fell. She was lonely, and alone, he thought, but afraid, perhaps, to be otherwise. She had his sympathy. And in another time and place, he wondered if things could have been different for them.

“Camille,” he whispered, “may we not try to get along?” Such simple words—and, so far as he could recall, the only thing he had ever asked of any woman. The thought shamed him a little.

“I . . . I do not know.” She clasped her hands before her, and in the slight curve of her shoulders, he could see an infinite weariness. “But I know this: I cannot afford to grow attached to you. I cannot come to depend on you. You have said as much yourself and, mon dieu, I admired you for your honesty when you said it—”

“No, what I said was—”

Camille threw up her hand. “Let me finish, s’il vous plaît,” she said. “Do not give in to this—this bourgeois guilt you seem suddenly to be toying with. You desire me, but do not pretend you feel anything for me beyond lust. I will think the better of you for it.”

“Christ.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s just that I wish . . . ”

“Quoi?” She whispered, lowering her eyelids as if hiding some emotion. “What do you wish, Rothewell? That life were fair? I think you know that it is not.”

He shook his head. “I wish that we had met under different circumstances. Before I became . . . what I am. Before you became so cold.”

“Is that what I am?” she asked softly. “Cold?”

“Yes, and hard,” he added. “Your heart has been hardened by life, Camille. You expect . . . well, the worst, I suppose.”

And perhaps she was about to get it, he inwardly acknowledged. He was a poor choice of a husband, for any number of reasons. He probably wouldn’t be faithful. Perhaps not even honorable. Hell, he had cheated at cards just to get the chance to bed her. But his mind kept turning back to the scene of her pounding her fist on Valigny’s card table, and challenging one of them to marry her. She had been ready for martyrdom—and he carried the sword.

Tonight she was even more beautiful, the creamy swell of her breasts just visible above the fabric of a dark green gown which flattered her every turn. His gaze drifted over the warm olive skin of her swanlike neck. Over the emerald earbobs which swayed from the plump earlobes he wanted suddenly to suckle. He returned his hands to her shoulders, and pulled her nearer.

“Camille, you are marrying because you have no other choice,” he said quietly. “Do you think I don’t know that? But before you stand up with me before God, you should know what I expect.”

“Bien sûr.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “What do you expect?”

“Kissing,” he said quietly. “Perhaps a great deal of it.”

“Ah, as you just kissed me a moment ago?” she asked.

“Yes, I daresay.” She meant to make this difficult, he realized. “Camille, this cannot be about having a child and nothing more,” he found himself saying. “You deserve something better than a man who will simply take his pleasure from you.”

“I see,” she said quietly. “You wish to seduce me.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose I do,” he admitted.

She cut her gaze away, a rare show of surrender. “I need a husband, my lord,” she answered, blinking rapidly. “And I have already shown that I am weak. Yes, I desire you. Your touch . . . it maddens me. Your seduction of me will not present much of a challenge, I fear.”

Rothewell shook his head. He was deeply dissatisfied, and he was not perfectly sure why. It was the same sort of frustration he had felt on the night he’d first met her, when Camille had so dispassionately offered her body to him then and there, in exchange for his promise of marriage. He had been damned tempted, too.

He remembered another such beauty who had needed rescuing, but on that occasion, it had been he who had made the offer. The many pleasures of Annemarie’s body in exchange for his undying love and financial support. He was hardly the first man to propose her that. And she had been glad enough to seal the bargain—in a way he would never forget. After long years in the darkness, his life had suddenly seemed filled with light. Until his brother had chosen to interfere.

But Camille was not Annemarie, no matter what Xanthia believed. Oh, the resemblance was there. Dark hair and flashing eyes. Honeyed skin. That sensuous French accent. And yes, it had been the first thing about Camille that had struck him. Tempted him. But any resurrected fantasies of Annemarie would likely not survive one interlude in Camille Marchand’s bed. This woman had a passion and a backbone Annemarie had never possessed.

A woman so rare deserved to be surrounded by joy. To be made love to on a bed of rose petals. To have poetry written in her honor. And none of these things would he ever do for Camille Marchand. It wasn’t in his nature. She would have to settle, at least for a while, with a good deal less.

Though he had not spoken in some minutes, Camille had made no effort to step away. Caught in the moment, he lifted his hand, and stroked the back of his knuckles along her cheek.

Her sweep of black lashes lowered, fanning across her warm skin.

“You were right about one thing,” he finally said. “I desire you. Far more than I would wish.”

She looked up at him, unblinking. “You wish to kiss me again, n’est-ce pas?”

He lifted his hands to cradle her face, then stroked his thumb round the corner of her mouth, and then across her sensuous bottom lip. He felt the plump swell of it quiver beneath the pad of his thumb. He drew it down just a fraction, to reveal her small white teeth, and the pink tip of her tongue. He leaned forward, and skimmed his mouth along the shell of her ear. “Yes,” he murmured. “And it is very necessary, Camille. Absolutely necessary.”

“Necessary?” Her voice was thready.

“This kissing.” He drew back and smoothed his thumb across the apple of her cheek. “You once asked me . . . was it necessary? And it is. Like air to my lungs. Kiss me again. Kiss me, Camille.”

She tilted her head and rose onto her toes without opening her eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, Rothewell lowered his mouth to hers. He wanted to savor each second, tucking it away in the recesses of his memory. Storing it away for a time when, perhaps, he would not have this pleasure.

Their lips touched, hers trembling at first. His were certain. And with a gentleness that amazed even himself, Rothewell molded his mouth softly to hers. After a moment’s hesitation, Camille was kissing him back in earnest. Unbidden, she opened beneath him, and drew his tongue deep into the warmth of her mouth. It was sweet. So achingly sweet. Something in the pit of his belly seemed to melt.

Her hands came up to hold his face, mirroring his earlier gesture. As if she might control his motions, she held him there, their tongues sinuously entwining, her breath coming more urgently with every moment. He wanted her. Good God, how he wanted her. It was not unbridled lust. It was not Annemarie. He just wanted this woman—Camille—and with an intensity that would have worried him were he not so desperately lost in her kiss.

Somehow, he turned and set her back to the wall below one of the sconces. He wished suddenly that he had lit them all; that he could see the flickering light play over the fine bones of her face, and the silken sweep of her eyelashes. Without taking his mouth from hers, his hands went up to cradle the mounds of her breasts.

Camille gasped faintly at the touch of his hands. When he hooked his thumbs in the laced edge of her bodice, she said nothing, and let her head go back against the wall. She felt enervated, as if she were entirely at his command—and in that moment, she did not care. With a deft tug, he drew the fabric down, taking her chemise with it, until the dusky pink nipples were exposed.

He hesitated as if waiting. For her protest. For the back of her hand. But the dark silence of the library was rent only by the sound of their breathing.

Camille was so tired of fighting her desire for him. Whatever Rothewell was, no matter why he wanted her, she ached for him. And when he bent his head to draw her left nipple between his lips, she gasped at the hot ribbon of pleasure it engendered.

He took that as a sound of approval. He drew her breast more fully into the warmth of his mouth, suckling until she began to make small, breathy sounds of pleasure. Then he moved to the other breast, first circling the nipple with his tongue, then sucking at the very tip as he gently nipping with his teeth.

“Ooh, oui!” she murmured. Her hands went to his shoulders, restless and urgent.

Gently, he slipped one hand between her shoulder blades. “No, let me, Camille,” he breathed against her ear as the hooks of her gown slipped free. “Let me unfasten this.”

She did not feign innocence, or further protest. Instead, she gave herself up to the skill of his well-tutored touch. And when he returned his attention to her small, perfect breasts, cupping their weight in his hands, she opened her eyes. “Mon dieu,” she murmured dreamily.

He kissed her long and deep. Her head moved restlessly against the wall. “Kieran, I want—” she whispered. “I want—oh, I don’t know.”

“Perhaps I can guess.”

But as Kieran cradled one breast and kissed her deeply, and his other hand fisted in her skirts, he realized he should be horsewhipped. He was not so wrapped up in her he could not appreciate the precariousness of their situation. Or the fact that she was a virgin. Instead, he inched her skirts up into his fist, then eased one hand between them, touching her lightly in her most intimate place.

“Camille,’ he whispered. “You are going to marry me. In a few days’ time. We will be married, yes?”

“Oh, oui, je suis . . . ” She stopped and swallowed hard. “I am so . . . yes. Yes. ”

With a lifetime of experience in having sex in places he had no business, with women he scarcely knew, Rothewell inched down her drawers until they slithered into a puddle of silk at her feet.

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.

The book I have been looking forward to reading since Thanksgiving 2006 and the final installment of Liz Carlyle’s latest trilogy.

Doesn’t the cover go wonderfully with the blog?

Never Romance a Rake by Liz Carlyle

New York Times bestselling author Liz Carlyle delivers the third in her exciting historical trilogy with the story of a wicked rake’s redemption, and the unconventional woman who saves him.

Baron Rothewell lives a dark, isolated existence by day, and a life of reckless abandon by night. Scarred by a childhood filled with torment and deprivation, Rothewell cares very little about anyone or anything. His life on the edge of ruin suits him—until he meets a man who just might be his nemesis. The Comte de Valigny likes to play dangerously, but Rothewell’s recklessness is undeterred. Until one night when de Valigny wagers something quite a bit more valuable than gold— his bastard daughter.

Mademoiselle Marchand is a desperate woman in a strange land, and her pleading eyes seem to swallow Lord Rothewell, body and soul—assuming he still has one. Now the baron must play his hand with the utmost care, for at last something meaningful is at stake.

Read an excerpt

I WANT!!!!

Sybil’s review of The School For Heiresses by Sabrina Jeffries, Liz Carlyle, Julia London, Renee Bernard
Historical Romance published by Pocket 26 Dec 2006

This is a very enjoyable anthology. It is fun, flirty, fast and kicks off one ‘sounds like it is going to be grand’ series. The stories tie into The School for Heiresses world created by Jeffries. The heroines have their own personality, which compliments the mix of authors as they have their own style and voice. They tackle a different tried and true theme in romanceland, adding a twist to make it interesting. Two stories worked really well for me, one was okay and one didn’t work at all.

Ten Reasons to Stay by Sabrina Jeffries

The Plot:
‘regency miss trying to escape the evil guardian’s plans to make her marry someone not of her choice to pay off his debt’.

The Characters:
Colin is a very interesting character, who is of mixed race and suddenly finds himself the Earl of Monteith. [If you haven't read Only a Duke Will Do, you should and you get more of his back-story here as well] Eliza has a pretty good head on her shoulders. And is trying to do something vs waiting for someone to rescue her.

The Twist:
Some naughty books and mixed heritage

The Grade:
Sabrina Jeffries has a great way of taking historical fact and expanding on it. Her world may not always follow the letter of the law of history but they come across as believable. I always find myself closing her books with a smile on my face.

Grade: B

After Midnight by Liz Carlyle

The Plot:
‘regency miss getting caught with a rake so they have to marry’.

The Characters:
Martinique is a beauty. She has a brain to match it and a mysterious past in the West Indies which ties into other characters we get to learn too little about. Justin St. Vrain was a very, very naughty boy. Years ago he ran off to Paris with another man’s wife. Now his father is dead and the title his Justin, he is back and trying to figure out what is next.

The Twist:
Martinique is a courtesan’s daughter. The woman Justin ran off with was his stepmother. And the story starts off a new series!

The Grade:
I love this story and the fact that these people aren’t your normal Regency fare. It might have to do with the fact it has made me way excited about the new series. I can’t wait to spend more time with these characters.

Grade A-

The Merchant’s Gift by Julia London

The Plot:
‘wealthy merchant daughter’s duty is to marry a title’.

The Characters:
Grace, as would be expected, has a hard time trying to mix with the ton. Her duty is to marry a title and little else seems to matter. Barrett Adlaine is nothing more than a merchant and thus she believes not for her.

The Twist:
The hero is pretty betaish and does the chasing.

The Grade:
I don’t like the ‘selling your daughter for a title’ plot. And Mr. Holcomb gets way too much screen time, add in this is a novella and it way drops my enjoyment level. I could never see Grace as anything more than a gold digger, regardless of her but it is for my father and expected of me lines. Adlaine should have ran far and fast away from the chit. He was too good of a hero for Grace.

Grade D

Mischief’s Holiday Renee Bernard

The Plot:
‘Nice guy falls for clumsy regency miss evil cousin tries to steal him’.

At least I think that is what it was going for….

The Characters: Alyssa Martin (regency name?!?) wants to get married, fall in love and live happy ever after. And for once, she would like to stay out of trouble while doing it.

The Twist: The story is more of a ‘traditional’ regency.

The Grade:
Cute story with a sweet heroine but too slapsticky for my taste. And the tone was completely different from the other three in style. It may have worked better for me if this was the second in the anthology then to end with it. Regardless the story didn’t seem to end as much as stop.

Grade C-

If you are looking for a meaty historical, keep looking, but if you are looking to lose yourself with some fun characters for a bit, this is just the ticket. Readers of the series will enjoy it but you can pick it up without having read Sabrina Jeffries’ series and follow along just fine.

If you try it or have tried it let me know. From what I can see, many people enjoyed London’s story the most, which was my least favorite. Got to love that .

Next up:

Which means I spent the weekend rereading book… two I didn’t even remember reading. And that sort of spilled over to the week. 

Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas was my first reread last Friday. Derek and Sarah… what more do you have to say. I love this book. It is just wonderful.

Which lead me to read Tiger’s Eye by Karen Robards since people tend to say it is like DoY. I must have skimmed it the first time I read it because I didn’t remember reading it until the very end with the bathtub scene, which that scene still annoys me.

Go figure… I can see how it gets compared to DoY but DoY blows it away. A good read I would rate about a C.

I then moved onto Forbidden Love by Karen Robards and poof read that too. And sorry maili, I liked it. I would rate it about a C-, it is way flawed but a nifty guilty pleasure read.

The next on the hit list aka randomly picked off the shelf was The Seducer and The Sinner by Madeline Hunter.

I still love both of these books. Madeline Hunter is one of my favorites and she has a way with an old plot. She can take it and make it new, fresh, fun and exciting. I wish we could get another Medieval out of her but I am still in love with this series and so need to read LoS. I dont think I ever really read it, more like skimmed and marked it as a want to read later.

Beauty Like the Night and The Devil You Know by Liz Carlyle came next.

I adore Liz Carlyle and am looking forward to her new series. The funny thing is The Devil You Know is the first book by her I read and I hated it. I didn’t pick up another one of her books until AWoV was recently rereleased and after falling in love with her short story in Big Guns Out of Uniform Let’s Talk About Sex.

Now I have no idea if it has to do with reading BLtN first and having read AWoV so I understood Bentley more than I did the first time but I just fell in love with this story. Rosario has a great review for the story and it pretty much sums up what I love about it. I would say to enjoy Carlyle you need to read her earlier works. So it is a good thing she is having them reprinted and at GREAT prices. What a great way to get new fans.

So what is my point in all this? I have been reading, just not the 10+ books I am suppose to read for AAR reviews. But I think I have found my groove again. So off I go to try my hand at new books. I also have company this weekend, so I really need to kick my ass into gear.

geeze wasn’t someone suppose to be watching me or something? next thing you know, I am gonna have to be responsible for my own actions… 

But hey I could drink my money away or have a shoe habit or whatever

hi my name is sybil and I am a bookaholic

Trade:
Men of August – Marly’s Choice By Lora Leigh
Thanks nicole! I really need to set up a trade list or something.

Used:
Southern Comfort by Karen Kelley
I have never heard of this book or this author. Anyone have an opinion?

Widow’s Little Secret by Judith Stacy
I am a Harlequin Historical whore, what can I say.

Letters From a Stranger, Forever and a Day and Unspoken Vows by Connie Rinehold
Kristie J made me do it. Well she rec’ed Letters and I am easy.

New:
Jamie by Lori Foster
This is the end of the Visitation series. I really didn’t think I would like this and had Just Say No to Joe forever before I read it. For whatever reason it completely caught my interest. Lori Foster is a hit or miss author for me. I hope this ends the series well.

Beach Blanket Bad Boys by Linda Lael Miller, Alison Kent, Lucy Monroe, Jill Shalvis, Susanna Carr, Morgan Leigh
note to self: order trade size books from amazon or bamm. I just paid 15.00 bucks for this. The line up of authors is great so I am hoping it was worth it and it is the second of the bad boy books I have bought new. So all in all it is worth the price. But the next one, will be purchased online.

Bad in Boots – Colt’s Choice by Patrice Michelle
I love a good western, make it a hot western and I am in heaven. I have only read one story by Patrice Michelle Hearts Are Wild with Cheyenne McCray , Patrice Michelle , Nelissa Donovan and I enjoyed her story. This is the second in the Bad in Boots series and in sybilfashion I don’t have the first one yet. oops I do have Dragon’s Heart, A Taste for Passion (vamps) and A Taste for Revenge (vamps) to read. She does say there will be more BiB books coming as well as the vamps.

Beauty Like the Night by Liz Carlyle
New to me author, I am really enjoying her backlist.

Marry the Man Today by Linda Needham
I am not really sure why the hell I bought this. I have only read two books by Needham and didn’t like either. I am trying to cut back on my ‘spy’ books. And she is a dreaded avon author (looks at kristiej). I didn’t even know about this book and honestly, ::hangs head:: the cover caught my eye. It is purple with a carriage and really pretty font. I picked it up and was in a rush (got there 20 mins before they closed). I am going to look up what I can on the book and I MIGHT go back and exchange it tomorrow for something else. Ten to one I throw it in the tbr pile and use it for that avon post I am going to someday do.

Hero, Come Back by Stephanie Laurens, Christina Dodd, Elizabeth Boyle – talked a lil about this one earlier

Master of Pleasure by Jessica Trapp – talked a lil about this one earlier

hee and the library sale is tomorrow at 11 Then I think I am set for the week. The thing that really sucks ass, is I am going into work in the morning. le sigh I would have had more time tonight to read the shit load of books I have but real life got in the way.