12 Rakes Cavorting- with Sherry Thomas
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| Photo by: Jennifer Sparks Harriman |
Her story is all the more interesting given that English is Sherry's second language—she has come a long way from the days when she made her laborious way through Rosemary Roger's SWEET SAVAGE LOVE with an English-Chinese dictionary. She enjoys digging down to the emotional core of stories. And when she is not writing, she thinks about the zen and zaniness of her profession, plays computer games with her sons, and reads as many fabulous books as she can find.
Sherry is available to speak to writers groups on the intimate particulars of craft as well as the ins and outs of publishing.
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Background: The couple in the scene are the hero and the heroine of my Oct 2012 release, TEMPTING THE BRIDE, which is the third book of the Fitzhugh Trilogy and will following BEGUILING THE BEAUTY in May and RAVISHING THE HEIRESS in July.
Elissande Edgerton is a desperate woman, a virtual prisoner in the home of her tyrannical uncle. Only through marriage can she claim the freedom she craves. But how to catch the perfect man?
Lord Vere is used to baiting irresistible traps. As a secret agent for the government, he’s tracked down some of the most devious criminals in London, all the while maintaining his cover as one of Society’s most harmless—and idiotic—bachelors. But nothing can prepare him for the scandal of being ensnared by Elissande.
Forced into a marriage of convenience, Elissande and Vere are each about to discover they’re not the only one with a hidden agenda. With seduction their only weapon against each other—and a dark secret from the past endangering both their lives—can they learn to trust each other even as they surrender to a passion that won’t be denied?
This is not a scene from a book but rather from the previous Christmas, shortly before the timeline for the entire trilogy begins.
Helena Fitzhugh looked about the library. She was under the impression that Andrew would meet her here. Most of the other gentlemen had left to shoot pheasants with her brother and most of the ladies had gathered in the solarium to while away a winter morning chatting and playing parlor games. She and Andrew would have a lovely hour alone.
But Andrew was nowhere to be seen. Baffled, she headed toward the door. Viscount Hastings, her brother Fitz’s best friend, appeared in the doorway, blocking her path.
“I see we’ve met under the mistletoe, Miss Fitzhugh.”
Helena looked up. Sure enough, there it was, a sprig of green leaves and milky berries, tied with a bright red ribbon—something she’d yet to see anywhere else at Henley Park.
She glanced at Hastings. “You mean, you have maneuvered me here in the hope of gaining a kiss?”
He smiled and braced a hand on the door frame. A big man, Hastings. He’d rowed for Eton and Oxford and still retained a rower’s powerful build. “Am I that transparent?”
“Like the walls of a greenhouse, my lord Hastings.”
He was entirely unchastened. “You’ve always said you like a man of purpose. It was a near nigh impossible task to lure a lady as clever and wary as you into my depraved clutches—which goes to show you how much thought and exertion I put into this undertaking. You ought to reward me on the principle of the matter alone.”
She tsked. “I really ought to, ought I not? Alas, I’m afraid I cannot consider plotting to get me under the mistletoe, however difficult a task, a worthwhile endeavor.”
He looked her up and down. “Then kiss me because you want to.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
If one analyzed Hastings feature by feature, he probably wouldn’t be called handsome. But the whole was greater than the sum of the parts and he had long been considered a highly attractive man--proof that God was sometimes absent-minded and gave gifts where none were deserved.
“You mistake my amusement at your conduct, sir,” she said firmly. “I laugh at you, not with you. And I do not like rakes at all.”
“Neither do I, as a matter of fact.”
“You are a rake, Hastings.”
His eyes widened. “My goodness, that is terrible. How did that happen? I was such a good little boy once.”
She didn’t want to admit it, but she did find their banter enjoyable on occasion. Such as now. “Don’t sound so surprised, Lucifer himself was once an angel. Anything can happen when you decide to cavort in sin.”
His eyes were the warm color of cinnamon. His gaze, however, was as hot as whisky going down her throat. “I sense in you a kindred capacity for sinning, Miss Fitzhugh.”
She felt a flutter of nerves. Did he know about Andrew? Surely he couldn’t.
“You imagine things, Hastings.”
“Don’t try to deny it—I am never wrong on these matters.” He stepped closer. “Why have you never chosen to sin with me, Miss Fitzhugh?”
She was not about to let him intimidate her. She leaned in also. “I have standards, sir. I require my partners in sin to be sincerely devoted to me.”
“I have been sincerely devoted to you ever since we first met lo these many years ago,” he murmured.
He had a voice as seductive as moonlight. She hardened her resolve. “You say that to all your women.”
“Not all. Far from it.”
She ignored the quiver brought on by those softly spoken words. “One of your past lovers is deaf, if I’m not mistaken. It doesn’t count if you neglected to say it to someone who anyway couldn’t hear. Now won’t you be so kind and let me pass unmolested?”
“You’ve come closer to me, Miss Fitzhugh. You are daring me to kiss you.”
Was she? She did not plan to find out. “How well you read my every last hidden intentions, Hastings,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “Why, instead of keeping you at an arm’s length out of honest disdain, I must have been secretly scheming to drive you mad with desire.”
“No scheming necessary, Miss Fitzhugh. You drive me mad with desire by merely existing.”
He excelled at sweet nothings. And from time to time, as much as she hated to admit it, some of those sweet nothings lingered in her mind, like caresses. “Oh, you are good, Hastings. You must be the poet laureate of the rakes.”
“Lust drives all life and therefore all artistry. And what is the urge to mate but the most primal urge to create and bring something new into the world?”
“A musician too. You are conducting a veritable crescendo of passionately empty declarations.”
He bowed slightly. “As long as I leave you breathlessly satisfied afterwards, Miss Fitzhugh.”
She grew warm. “That you do by merely existing, Hastings. Every time I look upon I’m breathlessly satisfied that I’ve never felt the slightest compulsion take up with you.”
He gazed directly into her eyes. “Liar. You’ve felt the compulsion all right. You’ve let your prejudice stand in the way of our pleasure.”
She took hold of his jaw, freshly shaven and smooth. “Then think of my suffering these many years for the want of you, Hastings. My flesh, my heart, my soul—all parched with yearning. Caught in a maelstrom of feverish desires, desperate for the sweetness only you can offer.”
His breath quickened--as did hers. His lips were well-molded and sensuous. And for all his dissipation, he smelled wholesome, like newly woven tweed—with a hint of pipe tobacco.
They were under the mistletoe after all.
She let go of his jaw and ducked out from underneath his arm. And when she was safe from his grasp, she said over her shoulder. “Alas, it appears I must suffer more lonely unfulfillment in the years ahead.”
“Witch,” came his response behind her.
She was pleased as she sauntered away—and completely breathless.
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Want some more of Sherry Thomas' work?
Elissande Edgerton is a desperate woman, a virtual prisoner in the home of her tyrannical uncle. Only through marriage can she claim the freedom she craves. But how to catch the perfect man?Lord Vere is used to baiting irresistible traps. As a secret agent for the government, he’s tracked down some of the most devious criminals in London, all the while maintaining his cover as one of Society’s most harmless—and idiotic—bachelors. But nothing can prepare him for the scandal of being ensnared by Elissande.
Forced into a marriage of convenience, Elissande and Vere are each about to discover they’re not the only one with a hidden agenda. With seduction their only weapon against each other—and a dark secret from the past endangering both their lives—can they learn to trust each other even as they surrender to a passion that won’t be denied?
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Note: Sherry Thomas' back list ebooks are on sale (for Kindle & Nook readers). All ebooks are $3.99
**Giveaway**
In honor of her post today, I'll be giving away (gifting) a winner's choice of whichever back list book they've taken a fancy too :) That's right! 1 lucky commenter (with a Kindle or the FREE Kindle PC app) will get one of Sherry's books under their electronic Christmas tree this year! Just make sure to leave a comment and fill out the raffle copter form!
Don't Forget to head over to Ramblings From This Chick and read Sara Lindsey's special holiday scene (plus ener her giveaway)
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Don't Forget to head over to Ramblings From This Chick and read Sara Lindsey's special holiday scene (plus ener her giveaway)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
**Grand Prize Giveaway**
On behalf of myself, Dani and a whole host of generous and awesome authors, we will be having one BIG Grand Prize given away to 1 lucky winner. The grand prize consists of a mix of books, swag, and lots of other secret goodies. Believe me, you want to enter to win this prize. Just make sure to leave a comment everyday on each post on both blogs and fill out this form. That's it. Super easy! Good Luck everyone and Happy Holidays!
Etiketler 12 (historical) Days of Christmas, Giveaway, Sherry Thomas
