Vivienne Lorret's Blog, page 22

1st excerpt for THIS EARL IS ON FIRE

It’s here!!! I’ve uploaded the first excerpt for THIS EARL IS ON FIRE on my website, and I’ve also posted it below.

The sheltered daughter of a country baron, Miss Adeline Pimm comes to London looking for adventure… and finds it in the form of a bloody, unconscious man slumped in the doorway of her family’s rented townhouse. Though his identity is a mystery, Adeline is inexplicably drawn to the handsome, injured man and vows to nurse him back to health. 

Liam Cavanaugh, the scandalous Earl of Wolford, is startled when he awakens in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in bandages that hinder his eyesight, with no memory of why he was beaten half to death. Although he can’t see the witty young woman who tends to his wounds, her alluring voice—and a single stolen kiss from her soft lips—helps soothe his pain. But when he is fully healed, Liam is not ready to let go of the one woman who stirs his deepest longings.

Liam will do whatever it takes to see Adeline again, even if it means giving up his rakish ways. But his disreputable past is not so easily forgotten and his secrets are far more dangerous than he—or Adeline—ever imagined.

 

A little background info:

As you can guess from the back-cover blurb, in the beginning of the book, Liam is injured and Adeline’s parents take him into their home to help him recuperate. But what begins as a good deed for them, turns into a trial for Adeline’s reputation. Society cannot accept the idea of a scandalous rake, albeit an injured one, sleeping beneath the same roof as a debutante.

But just so you know, Liam tried very hard to resist her.

All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke

Can you believe it’s the first day of December already? I haven’t even started shopping for Christmas presents yet. And if you’re in the same boat, I have the perfect stocking stuffer idea: ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS A DUKE. It’s a Regency Era Christmas anthology for Avon Impulse with one main theme—every story has a duke. Is there anything better?


Here is a peek at the front and back cover copy:
All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke


The holidays are a time for dining, dancing, and of course—dukes! Celebrate the Christmas season with this enchanting collection of historical romances featuring the most eligible bachelors of the ton…


A childish prank may have reunited the Duke of Hollingsworth with his estranged wife, but only the magic of Christmas will show this couple ’tis the season of second chances…


Sophie Kinsley planned to remain a wallflower at the Duke of Hollyshire’s ball. Yet when a dance with him leads to a stolen kiss, will the duke be willing to let her go? Or will Sophie’s Christmas wish be granted at last?


To the Duke of Vale, science solves everything—even marriage. When the impulsive Ivy Sutherland makes him question all of his data, he realizes that he’s overlooked a vital component in his search for the perfect match: love.


Patience Markham never forgot the fateful dance she had with the future Duke of Kingsbury. But when a twist of fate brings them together for Christmas Eve, will the stars finally align in their favor?


In my story, THE DUKE’S CHRISTMAS WISH, Duke of Vale suddenly finds his perfectly catalogued world in disarray when an unexpected guest arrives at his Christmas party.


"Miss Ivy Sutherland of Norwood Hill—no consequence." ~ The Duke of Vale, THE DUKE'S CHRISTMAS WISH


The story takes off from there and rushes headlong into… Well, I’ll let you discover how it ends. However, I will say that frogs might play a part in the unexpected romance between North and Ivy.


“Frogs?” you might ask.


And in response, I cheerfully nod. “Yes. Frogs.”


After all, when one thinks of Christmas, frogs immediately spring to mind. Right? Wait. Did you just shake your head? But frogs must pop up in the top five things you associate with Christmas.


No? How about the top ten?


Hmm…


I guess it’s time for me to make a confession. The holidays don’t make me think of frogs either. At least, not until I started to write THE DUKE’S CHRISTMAS WISH.


One day, while formulating ideas, I walked past my curio cabinet and smiled at a frog that my youngest had made me years ago.




Then something happened. Since I was already in brainstorming mode, the first thing I thought of when I looked at that frog was the tale of The Frog Prince. However, instead of thinking of ways to transform my story into one that resembled the fairytale, I started wondering about the prince who’d become a frog, and also what type of man he’d become during his post-amphibian years.


Within this strange primordial pool of thoughts, a story began to form, taking me in directions that I’d never expected. But I love how it turned out, and I hope you do, too.


Here is a sneak peek into THE DUKE’S CHRISTMAS WISH:


“Have you always been impatient and impulsive?”


“Even as a child, I’m afraid,” she admitted, nodding to herself. “I could not wait for the next footrace over the hill, or the next adventure. I could not stand to linger in bed when I was wide-awake, even when it was before dawn. Nor could I tolerate being kept from my slumber when that was the only thing keeping me from beginning a new day.”


Caught in a memory, she continued. “There was one summer, many years ago, when my aunt, uncle and younger cousin came to stay with us. She had a pet frog that she kept in a box by her bedside table. She had an absurd notion that if she gave him a kiss, he would turn into a prince, but was waiting for the day when she had the courage to find out. Apparently, the sound of constant croaking did not hinder my cousin’s sleep. Across the hall, it had the opposite effect on me. Therefore, I decided to liberate the frog from his confines.


“In my own defense,” she said after a short pause, “I never thought the frog wouldn’t be able to hop from such a distance.”


“What was the distance?” the duke asked, his tone warmer and suspiciously amused.


“A third floor window,” she murmured. “Over a stone patio.”


Vale laughed, a hearty, rough-hewn sound that shook the small room. Automatically, she reached out for support and, as luck would have it, he was the closest thing to seize. His hand settled on her hip, steadying her. Gradually his laughter died, but she could still feel his warm puffs of air against her cheek. “Your cousin never had the chance to see if her frog was a prince in disguise.”


“Oh, he wasn’t. I made sure of it… just in case.”



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If you are interested in some of the other things that inspired THE DUKE’S CHRISTMAS WISH, I’ve posted them to my Pinterest page.


Warm wishes and happy reading,


Viv

Summer Reads and Latest Release

Now that I’ve finished writing book #3 in The Wallflower Wedding Series, I’m taking a break to tackle my tbr list. Since I stay away from reading historical romance while I’m writing it, it’s a treat to indulge in some of my favorite historical authors. My top three to-be-reads are Meredith Duran’s Fool Me Twice, Tessa Dare’s Romancing the Duke, and Jane Austen’s Persuasion.

In the midst of reading for pleasure, I’ll also throw in a little research to help me prepare for my next books. And then from there, a great Post-it army will start to gather on my desk. Organizing these little soldiers and drawing up a battle plan is one of my favorite parts of my writing process.

In case you’re like me and enjoy indulging in historical romance, my latest book from Avon Impulse, Winning Miss Wakefield, will be out on June 10th. It’s book #2 in The Wallflower Wedding Series.



She's got nothing left to lose …

With her fiancé suddenly engaged to another and her reputation in tatters, Merribeth Wakefield needs a bold plan to reclaim her life. She must be brave. Confident. She must … kiss a rake? The suggestion is ludicrous! Yet when Merribeth finds herself alone with the dark and brooding Lord Knightswold, suddenly the plan doesn't seem so farfetched. So she does something she never thought she'd do—she kisses him.

But he has everything to gain …

The Marquess of Knightswold—Bane to most—has no use for the affections of women. Well, none lasting longer than a single night. A plot for revenge weighs heavy on his mind, leaving no room for romance. But then a shy, witty miss borrows a kiss from him in a darkened room, and everything he thought he knew about innocent debutantes vanishes along with her.

When a twist of fate brings Merribeth within Bane's grasp, he'll have to resist her charms—or risk losing everything—for the sake of his heart.

Excerpt:

“Brandy,” he said after a moment and turned to regard her. His gaze drifted to her mouth, as intimate as a caress. “You have brandy-sipping lips. Supple, with the slightest pout where their color changes from dusky pink to a deeper shade. No doubt, you even prefer coffee over tea.” He tsked as if the heat blooming on her cheeks was from his uncovering a shocking preference for coffee instead of from his brazen compliment.

No man had ever said such things to her or about her. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Not knowing bothered her. She was always sure of herself. Even when William had ended their five-year understanding, she’d known precisely what to say.

Yet now, her tongue was mute, and her head was filled with the sound of Knightswold’s voice, as if her brain matter consisted of warm Christmas pudding, deeply spiced and velvety.

~Winning Miss Wakefield, The Wallflower Wedding Series, book #2. Available June 10th, 2014.

Excerpt: Daring Miss Danvers

Daring Miss Danvers ~ Available May 6th, 2014

She looked at Rathburn, watching the buttons of his waistcoat move up and down as he caught his breath. When he looked away from the door and back to her, she could see the dampness of their kiss on his lips. Her kiss.

He grinned and waggled his brows as if they were two criminals who’d made a lucky escape. “Not quite as buttoned-up as I thought.” He licked his lips, ignoring her look of disapproval. “Mmm…jasmine tea. And sweet, too. I would have thought you’d prefer a more sedate China black with lemon. Then again, I never would have thought such a proper miss would have such a lush, tempting mouth either.”

She pressed her lips together to blot away the remains of their kiss. “Have you no shame? It’s bad enough that it happened. Must you speak of it?”

He chuckled and stroked the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip as his gaze dipped, again, to her mouth. “You’re right, of course. This will have to be our secret. After all, what would happen if my grandmother discovered that beneath a façade of modesty and decorum lived a warm-blooded temptress with the taste of sweet jasmine on her lips?”

Top Hat Travesty

I write Regency Romance and I’m always researching the time period. I recently stumbled upon a tantalizing tidbit of history that I couldn’t wait to share.

In dressing the hero for the third book of The Wallflower Wedding Series, I wanted to portray Griffin Croft as someone who liked to be in control at all times. Not necessarily buttoned-up, but also not the kind of gentleman who would ever let his hair grow unfashionably long, as many rakes are want to do. Therefore, Mr. Croft would never think of leaving his stately townhouse without his top hat. And that’s when I found this gem of an article by Ms. Lou Carver, “Top This…The Story of Top Hats.” (www.victoriana.com)

Apparently, starting a new trend in fashion was far more dangerous than you could imagine. “When the first top hat was worn by the haberdasher John Hetherington in 1797, it caused a near riot,” Ms. Carver writes. “According to a newspaper account, ‘passersby panicked at the sight. Several women fainted, children screamed, dogs yelped, and an errand boy’s arm was broken when he was trampled by the mob.’ So Hetherington was taken to court for wearing ‘a tall structure having a shining luster calculated to frighten timid people.’”

Of course, this report sparks my imagination for future characters, timid or otherwise. And while I’m not certain I believe Hetherington was necessarily a “calculated” individual, I do think he meant to cause a stir.

Apparently, he did. The top hat is still worn to this day.

Carver also informs us that, “What Hetherington designed was a modified riding hat of the day, widening the brim and lengthening the top area. In 1823, Antoine Gibus came along and modified it even more to a collapsible opera hat; which made traveling with it much easier and during the opera could be stored flat, under the seat.”

Yet, after reading this article, a smirk curves my lips as I wonder what type of riot would ensue if our modern day Lady Gaga could travel back in time wearing one of her fashions.

Now, there’s a story. :)

~
If you're interested in a little Regency Era romance, check out "Tempting Mr. Weatherstone," available now in Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection. Or you can preorder your copy of Daring Miss Danvers, the first book in The Wallflower Wedding Series. For more information on the series, visit www.vivlorret.net

The Season of Sharing Stories and Recipes

In the first decade of my life, December 25th always started the same way—A morning scramble after mass to open presents. Rush to dress in our new Christmas clothes. Drive to my grandparents’ house in the next county (and mind the dog, so the pies aren’t ruined). Eat our weight in ham, mashed potatoes, 7-layer salad, pies and fudge. Open presents, one at a time, taking turns (because we aren’t barbarians). Play games. Drink eggnog. Endure sloppy kisses before we leave. Drive to my other grandparents’. Crowd into the small Mid-western clapboard house amidst the boisterous rumble of conversation and laughter. Then, gather around the harvest table for countless stories of the mischief that my father and his nine siblings managed to survive during their adolescences.

The last part of the day was my favorite. Time slowed down. Night fell heavy outside, the air cool and crisp. The dark street was lit by Christmas trees posing in front room windows. Inside, the air was warm with the comfort of family fogging up the glass.

At my paternal grandparents’, we were allowed to be barbarians if we wanted to. With dozens of aunts, uncles and cousins packed inside the house it was nothing less than a Christmas hoard. The living room floor resembled the battle for Middle-Earth. And, during those early years when there were presents to be had, each one of us kids acted like hunched-over little Gollums, sheltering our treasures from potential marauders.

One special year, my precious was my first tea set—a tiny porcelain service for four with pink and yellow flowers painted on each piece. The cup handles were so small I could only hold it pinched between my thumb and two fingers, which practically demanded (quietly, of course) a raised pinky.

I was in girly heaven. This priceless, fragile gift was for me? The girl who couldn’t breathe without annoying her sisters? The girl who spent ninety percent of her waking hours lost in a daydream? The girl who stood with her nose pressed against the wall for most of her recesses because she wasn’t paying attention in class? That girl?

I was in awe. Obviously, I’d somehow slipped through the cracks and ended up on Grandma’s “nice” list. And right then and there, huddled over the winter coat I’d spread out like a picnic blanket, I had my first tea party.

To this day, I still have most of the set. A few pieces were broken and mended over the years, mostly because I’d preferred to drink imaginary tea outside on the patio, (the fresh air adds a little something, I think).

Now, I have a cup whenever I can, along with a scone if the mood takes me. My favorite kind is a cinnamon scone, and my gift to each of you is this recipe:
~
Cinnamon Scones

• 2 cups ap flour
• 2tsp. baking powder
• ¼ tsp. baking soda
• ½ tsp. salt
• ½ tsp. cinnamon
• ¼ cup light brown sugar
• ½ cup margarine or butter
• 5 oz. cinnamon chips
• ½ cup milk
*Topping:
• 1 Tbsp. melted butter
• 1 Tbsp. raw sugar

In food processor, combine flour, baking powder and soda, salt, cinnamon, brown sugar, and butter. Pulse until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add cinnamon chips, and then slowly drizzle in milk as you pulse the mixture. Remove from food processor and onto parchment paper or a Sil-pat lined cookie sheet. Make an 8 inch disc and cut into 8 wedges. Brush with 1 Tbsp of melted butter and sprinkle with Raw sugar. Separate wedges for baking, 2 inches apart. Bake at 375 F for 15-25 minutes. Enjoy!
~
Have a very, merry Christmas, a prosperous New Year, and may your holidays be filled with the warmth and comfort of family and friends.

Care and Feeding of a Candy Hound

When I was growing up, my parents didn’t keep candy in the house. We didn’t even have sugared cereal.

Yet, my dad had a sweet tooth. He kept a secret stash of Fig Newtons on the top shelf, way in the back, behind mason jars of green beans, stewed tomatoes and homemade cough syrup. He had this freaky ESP about them, too, and always managed to be standing directly behind me, arms crossed and wearing an I-can-see-into-your-soul look that made any verbal reprimand superfluous.

My mom didn’t have a look. Instead, she had a way of saying my first and middle name together that shuddered through my bones as if she’d lowered a nine-pound gavel and sentenced me to 25 years, hard labor, no candy.

However, that didn’t stop me from attempting to liberate a stick of spearmint gum from the perpetually crumpled pack at the bottom of her purse. It was like playing Operation. Only instead of fearing the bleat of the buzzer, I feared the telltale jangle of keys and loose change. Of course, even in victory, I’d found the gum covered with specks of tobacco, and sometimes bits of forgotten foil. To this day, I can’t chew a piece of spearmint gum without remembering the galvanic jolt that zinged through me when my teeth connected with foil.

Of course, I had candy on Christmas—homemade bonbons and fudge at Grandma’s house, along with the required colossal peppermint stick in my stocking. On Easter, my basket was sprinkled with jellybeans and sticky Peeps covered in Astroturf. But the treasure trove of candy—that cornucopia of chocolates, nougats, bubble gum, and licorice—only came on Halloween.

So, October 31st was my day. At last. Angels with sparkly, sugarcoated wings and butterscotch Lifesaver halos sang from on high.

I had one mission: Get as much candy as the orange plastic pumpkin could hold.

I steered clear of the popcorn ball houses (we were one of those), bypassed the pencil givers, and went straight for the good stuff. I wasn’t one of those kids who started snacking right away, munching on a Bit-O-Honey from house to house. No. I liked the anticipation.

I stood at each door, nearly breathless with childhood ecstasy as I repeated the mantra that brought me one step closer to nirvana.

Trick or treat.

Surely, with those words, the existence of magic in its purest form exists, still to this day.

Birds of a Feather

Today feels like an official fall day. The air is cool, the breeze fragranced by the faint perfume of clematis winding through my neighbor’s fence. Nearby, the bird feeder seems like the only show in town.

Flocks of wrens, finches and robins descend en masse to that small red-roofed house filled with black oil sunflower seed, shouldering through to get the goods. Gone are the skittish birds of spring. This older, wiser group means business.

I live on land that was once a bird conservatory. Over the years, houses popped up where there had once only been trees. Some of the birds have moved on, but others keep their families here, generation after generation, refusing eviction and deciding to adapt instead.

I wouldn’t necessarily call them pets, even though that is the blog theme for September. I’m more of a temporary landholder—a caregiver of the flocks. Yet, I feel a bond with them, all the same.

Sometimes, when I see them congregating at the birdbath, chirping and chattering, I imagine they’re sharing gossip. One might mention that rude squirrel she caught hanging from the feeder, gorging on their food and ignoring a perfectly good ear of corn left for him. Another might complain of a headache from the noise of the migrating Canadian geese at the natural springs down the hill.

Then sometimes, I imagine the talk is all about how this feeder—the one with the black oil sunflower seed—is far superior to the other ones in the neighborhood.

I puff up with pride over this before I move from the window, returning to my computer and steaming mug of tea.

Perhaps I’ll put up another feeder before winter.

Tasty Summer Reads Blog Hop

Welcome to the Tasty Summer Reads Blog Hop!

Here's how the hop works! Each author invites other authors to answer five questions about their current summer release or WIP and a tasty recipe that ties into it!

Fellow Five Golden Rings author, the amazing Sandra Jones , invited me to join in and share my news. In return, I invited the incredible Sophie Barnes (keeping it in the Five Golden Rings family) to tell us about her latest. Be sure to hop over to her Tasty Summer Reads blog on Friday.

Even though I don’t have a new release this summer, I’m working on an exciting project. Recently, I signed a contract with Avon Impulse for a three-book spinoff from my novella, Tempting Mr. Weatherstone, from the Five Golden Rings Christmas anthology!!! :)

The series revolves around three wallflowers, disenchanted by their failed London seasons, who find more enjoyment in their needlework circle than in looking for suitable husbands. However, you know what they say about best-laid plans… Sometimes love stumbles in when least expected.

The first book, Daring Miss Danvers, is scheduled for release in May of 2014. In this book, Emma Danvers discovers there’s nothing more dangerous than a rake in a pinch. She knows nothing good can come of Lord Rathburn’s scheme. Yet, for reasons beyond her understanding, when he asks her to engage in a mock courtship in order to gain his inheritance, she agrees.

And so it begins…

Now for the blog hop questions:

1)When writing are you a snacker? If so, sweet or salty?

In a perfect world with no distractions or interruptions (yeah right), I don’t snack. However, in the world I live in most of the time, when frustration mounts, Cheez-its are my go-to snack. Crunching seems to keep my need for world domination in check.

2) Are you an outliner or someone who flies by the seat of her pants? Are they real pants or jammies?

During the plotting phase, I’m all over the place, flying, soaring, skyrocketing, and sometimes even spelunking. However, when it’s time to sit down and get serious, I like direction. And I like to be comfortable in my stretchy yoga pants.

3) When cooking or baking, do you follow the recipe exactly or wing it?

You’d think a person who keeps her spices in alphabetical order would be precise and orderly when it comes to cooking and baking, but not so much. I absorbed many of my grandmothers’ methods, tricks they’d learned, how they’d tasted and sniffed each ingredient before adding it to any recipe. Also, when my mother baked her famous pumpkin pies each holiday, she always went by the color of the mixture, more than the recipe. Early on, I learned that cooking/baking involved the senses more than a card in a hinged recipe box.

4) What is next for you after this book?

After Daring Miss Danvers will be Winning Miss Wakefield, followed by Finding Miss McFarland. I’m so excited about the Wallflower Weddings series; I can’t wait to share it with you!

5) Last Question...on a level of one being slightly naughty to ten being whoo whoo steamy, where does your book land?

Currently, I’d say Daring Miss Danvers falls in the middle. However, edits await… and who’s to say the number won’t climb?

The Tasty Summer Treat:

Since I don’t have a recipe that ties in with a summer release (or vice versa), I thought I’d share a recipe that comes in handy during blueberry season. After all, what’s better in the summer than fresh blueberry pie and not having to turn on the oven?

This is my Aunt Dorothy’s No-Bake Blueberry Pie

5 cups fresh blueberries, separated
¾ cup sugar
1/3 cup water
½ tsp almond extract
3 Tbsp. tapioca
1 prepared graham cracker crust

~Line the bottom of the graham cracker crust with 2 cups of fresh blueberries. Set aside. In medium saucepan, combine 3 cups of blueberries, sugar, water, almond extract, and tapioca. Cook over medium heat until it bubbles and thickens, approximately 10 to 15 minutes. Pour hot mixture over fresh blueberries. Cool completely and enjoy.

Thanks for stopping by today!

You can find out more about the Wallflower Weddings series on my website www.vivlorret.net and on my facebook page.

How an old house and a good cup of tea inspired Tempting Mr. Weatherstone

The week Five Golden Rings came out, my fellow authors and I went on a blog tour. My stop on the tour was at United by Books. In case you missed it, here it is:

Can you start off by telling us a bit about Tempting Mr. Weatherstone?

Ethan Weatherstone’s world revolves around order and routine. He doubts Penelope Rutledge possesses an ounce of sensibility. When she isn’t stirring cream into his marmalade, she’s taunting him with her plans to travel to the continent, unchaperoned. Clearly, his duty is to save her from herself. However, somewhere along the way, he discovers that the greatest danger to Penelope might not be her harebrained scheme after all. Instead, it’s lurking within him. He wonders, not for the first time, what it would be like to abandon his rigid sense of control and give in to the temptation of her lips.

As an interviewer, I often wonder about what makes each writer tick. Can you share your inspiration for Tempting Mr. Weatherstone?

I intended to write a kidnapping-gone-wrong story. Penelope was the perfect character to make this happen. However, that all changed the moment I put Ethan on the page. The way he saw his world, changed my mind about the story. I love surprises like that.

Does the hero usually inspire the story?

Not all the time. However, how the hero reacts to the heroine, and vice versa, is the driving force behind each story. Even though Penelope was the first character that popped into my head for this story, Ethan’s controlled demeanor dictated how the story unfolded. He’s such a control freak. :)

What is something about Ethan that never made it into the book?

Ethan wasn’t always a control freak. When he was young, he was just as mischievous as any boy. Unfortunately, that all changed when his father died tragically, stumbling off a cliff. Ethan believes that if he hadn’t been too ill for their usual walk through the woods, then his father never would have taken that path by the sea. Holding onto that blame, he spends his life focusing on order and routine to ensure that nothing bad will happen again.

In your opinion, what makes a hero or heroine?

I could list off dozens of characteristics, but for me it boils down to flaws. I love a character with quirks, a past he/she can’t escape, a healthy dose of self-loathing—even if they aren’t aware of it. Most often, their internal struggles make me love them.

Do you have any hobbies that inspire your writing?

Everything inspires me. When I bake, the scent of bread or scones inspires a breakfast scene. The sound of the wind howling through the unseen cracks in my centenarian house inspires a barren hearth and chattering teeth. When I take a walk through the park, I usually have my camera with me. I’m always looking for new ways to see the world, and find myself wondering what my characters might think, too. I also find a great deal of inspiration in a steaming cup of tea, and even more at the bottom of it. :)