Got the call yesterday that my second novel will be published by Siren Bookstrand in 2012. Digital in February and yes…wait for it…in print by June! I am so happy about that. To actually hold the printed book will be something. At least for me it is. Libertine is a Victorian-Noir romance with an unlikely hero who falls for a girl that may be too damaged for his wicked ways. His transformation was fun to write.
Here is an excerpt from Libertine Lover~
Lamia on Her Knees... John William Waterhouse
The squall which had sprung up escalated as the minutes ticked by. Jeremy could tell the moment she spotted him though. She slowed noticeably as if unsure whether to continue in his direction.
Pulling his horse to a stop, he dismounted. “Miss Georgina Russell, I believe.” He inclined his head in greeting. “Do you remember me? I am—”
“I remember you, sir,” she cut him off, eying him stonily.
An attempt at lightheartedness compelled him to ask, “What’s my name then?”
“You are Mr. Greymont, my brother’s friend.” Her eyes fluttered down and away from him. They were golden eyes, glowing amber and liquid, like the smooth scotch whiskey he favored, swirling in a cut glass.
“Well done, Miss Georgina. I am just on my way to your house now. I’ve been invited for the—”
“Shooting party,” she interrupted, her eyes returning back to him, but still so very solemn. That was twice now she had stopped him mid-speech. This girl before him was wary, on edge. If he didn’t know better he’d say she seemed almost afraid of him. She was a wholly different person than he recalled, greatly changed. Georgina had grown up most fair for truth, but in her manner she had definitely altered.
“Please allow me to take you home on my horse. Samson here is so strong he won’t even notice he’s carrying the both of us.” Jeremy reached up a hand to give the great horse an affectionate pat on the neck. “He’s gentle as a lamb around ladies.”
“No, sir.” She shook her head gently, making the cool rain dripping off her nose look absurd.
“I must insist. This rain is piss—” He cleared his throat and tried again, cursing himself for speaking so coarsely. “Um, the rain shower, it’s quite fierce at the moment. You realize you shouldn’t subject yourself to the wet chill longer than need be. Think of your health.”
She looked hesitant, unsure, shifting her weight as she stood there sizing his offer. Sizing him up.
He knew the uncontrollable urge to convince her. “I intend to get out of this rain myself, Miss Georgina, and I cannot do that if you won’t come with me. I’ll not leave you here alone on the road in a downpour,” he told her determinedly. “Come with me.” Jeremy reached out his hand to her. “You know who I am. It’s all right.”
She stared at him, her eyes darting, as if making a decision to trust him or bolt back into the woods. Just like a nervous filly. She bit the corner of her bottom lip, probably having no idea how charming she looked in her indecision. Her lips were dark pink and full, puckered at the corner of her mouth where her teeth came together with flesh in between. How do those lips taste, I wonder? Will I ever know? I want to know.
Jeremy smiled gently, bobbing his arm that extended the hand. “You are safe with me.”
Those were the magic words apparently.
She stepped forward.
The long awaited cover has finally arrived. And I feel like a new mommy recovering from the birth. Kind of appropriate with Mother’s Day just around the corner. *wink*
The first thing a new author learns is that “self- promotion” should become your new best friend.
ou what your friends are doing. There are new friend requests, people you want to be friends with, and old friends from high school to reconnect with. And all of it drags you back to your computer repeatedly to check for updates. I’ve heard this is not unusual. In fact it’s the typical response for most new Facebookers.
Remember that line from the movie, The Jerk with Steve Martin? He runs around doing the happy dance when the new phonebook is delivered. That was me when my long-awaited first edits arrived yesterday for His Perfect Passion. Except nowadays documents are delivered in an email and I don’t think I’m quite as ignorant as poor Navin Johnson was in that movie. Well, I hope not anyway.
