Kate Rothwell's Blog, page 4

Until Friday, these books are practically free

THE GOOD: I have two books marked down to only 99 cents.

THE BETTER: They're fun Victorian Romances.

THE BEST: Every cent I make selling them this week will go to Stef's KO Fund. **

Here's the facebook page for Stefani's kick out cancer reading blitz fundraiser. 

Here's Stef's gofundme page.


HERE ARE THE BOOKS:

Love Between the Lines  at Amazon
also marked down at Barnes and Noble.

4.5 Stars!
"Rothwell's historical romance is pleasing from every angle!"
--RT Bookreviews Magazine

Danger won't deter this intrepid reporter--even when life and love are on the line.Sir Gideon Langham wants the best for his flagship newspaper. Hiring daring female reporter Lizzie Drury, aka "Trudy Tildon," seems like a smart decision--until he finds himself falling for her. He knows she'll risk everything to get a story which is perfect for an employee, but not for the sort of woman he plans to marry.Lizzie longs to write real, in-depth articles. When handsome Sir Gideon offers her a job as more than a stringer, she reluctantly leaves her New York beat for unfamiliar London. But as she pursues a murder investigation, ghosts from her past become all too real.Digging up dirt sometimes unearths danger. Now someone is after Gideon's reputation--and Lizzie's life. In a race to find a killer, Lizzie and Gideon must learn to trust each other...before it's too late.
----AND ------
The Earl, a Girl and a Promise at Amazon    When a nearly naked woman crashes into his arms, Paul, the new Earl of Latterly, knows he’s left his monk-like world behind. Raised apart from females by his misogynist father, Paul hardly knows how to speak with the delightful girl who’s dashed out of the dance hall. But in a single night’s tryst, they discover a passion he’s long denied himself. Yet to his dismay, he learns Emma is the adopted sister of the very man he seeks. The true heir to the earldom, Paul’s ne’er-do-well cousin.

Although she’s tried to escape her free-loving mother’s reputation, Emma consents to one night of lust…for a price. But as her heart falls for the stranger, she forgoes payment and flees into the night. Only to find Paul on her doorstep again, seeking her brother. And offering an inheritance that will change her family’s lives forever.

Her rapscallion brother needs training to blend with the ton, and Paul needs Emma’s help. Fear of becoming his eccentric father makes Paul skittish, and Emma’s outré family keeps the waters well-churned. But as Paul fulfills his promise to reveal the true heir, he and Emma must forge a new path to love. Before their pasts rob them of true happiness.

Note: This book contains explicit sexual content and graphic language. It is hotter than most titles by Kate Rothwell.

__________________________**yes, I misspelled Stef's name in my listings, whoops.

A NEW BOOK RELEASE TODAY and some nice reviews.

Mending him is available today! 


REVIEWS ARE POSITIVE! (Phew!).


 This was a very sweet story.  Not the sappy, disgustingly sweet that I hate, but the adorable, happy romance that put a huge smile on my face.  Both characters are easily likable and their friendship and attraction to each other is very believable.  Two lost souls coming together over disability and recovery.  Don’t get me wrong, Robbie and Charles are “nothing” alike, but the men they become are totally in sync.

--Blogger Girl  


I am a big fan of Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon’s historicals and Mending Him was another really delightful story.  Robbie and Charles are such an interesting match and I loved the way things develop between them.
--joyfully jay

This story is a sweet, tender love story that made my heart smile while I read it....Overall, this was a really wonderful story.  I’m not a fan of historical stories, however, I will say that this book was so sweet and wonderful that I fell in love with it.  This book was such a great story and I really fell into the story and the love affair between the Robbie and Charles.  So, sit back and enjoy watching two young men fall in love with each other.
 --lovebytes


Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon’s “Mending Him” Is A Pitch Perfect Historical Romance I’ve read a good number of Devon and Dee’s books, and it’s quite safe to say that Mending Him, as far as I’m concerned, is their best offering yet.
--novel approach


Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon’s works have become some of my favorite entries when it comes to M/M historical romance. And while The Gentleman and the Rogue is still my most favorite coming from them, this latest “Mending Him” is definitely one that I cherish as well.
If I could describe the story, I would use  words like “sweet” and “lovely” — because that was what it felt for me.
--boys in our books

I love the historical novels Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon create, I’ve not yet read one that I didn’t like. They are always absorbing and fascinating, with interesting plots and happy end-ings. Mending Him is written from various POV’s and as much as I liked Robbie Charles was my favorite, he was a perfect example of a bad thing changing someone for the better. ...I loved Mending Him and recommend it to anyone who loves historical stories with wounded heroes that need lots of tender care.
--prism reviews


A few reviewers have wondered what was going on with poor Charles who suffered with a mysterious illness that came and went.


It remained unnamed in the story because it wasn’t recognized until decades after Mending Him took place. Sufferers were often accused of hysteria because they improved without any sort of outside treatment.

Did you guess?

The answer:
Guillain-Barre syndrome was named after the French physicians Georges Guillain and Jean Alexandre Barré, who described it in 1916.

GBS is a rare disorder in which your body’s immune system attacks your nerves. Weakness and tingling in your extremities are usually the first symptoms. These sensations can quickly spread, eventually paralyzing your whole body. patients usually reach the point of greatest weakness or paralysis days or weeks after the first symptoms occur. Symptoms then stabilize at this level for a period of days, weeks, or, sometimes, months. The recovery period may be as little as a few weeks or as long as a few years. About 30 percent of those with Guillain-Barré still have a residual weakness after 3 years. About 3 percent may suffer a relapse of muscle weakness and tingling sensations many years after the initial attack. There is still no cure today.

[You're not imaging it -- I copied this from our joint blog. Because I'm lazy like that.]

A post sure to annoy everyone

I was listening to an expert describe different types of rape, specifically date rape, and realized a situation she described happened twice to me. She called it date rape.


Hearing what I lived through given that label felt nauseating but not for the reasons you'd think.

Let's get down and dirty with my experiences. Or my memory of them.

I didn't want to have sex but I liked the guy(s) and didn't really know how to say no (I sure as SHIT hope this doesn't happen as much these days. God, we were badly educated--and I'm talking about the men, too, so don't get all Like That.) Anyway I went along with these events.

One turned out not so bad--although the sex wasn't on my agenda and he didn't do much for me. I was unenthusiastic and said, maybe we shouldn't do this. It wasn't a no. It was a meh.  He didn't hear me. He was really turned on and not listening. I'm sure absolutely sure, if I'd pushed him, hit him, yelled at him he would have stopped. 

The aftermath, hanging around etc, wasn't so bad. I knew the attraction wasn't there for me, but he was a nice guy. I told him that it wasn't going to work between us and he said something about how we'll always have Paris. I didn't say it was more like the South Bronx for me.

The second time was less positive.  Did I go through with it? Yup. Why? Ummm. it was a long time ago. Afterwards I was annoyed enough to point out that I felt coerced when I wasn't really interested. The guy apologized. We actually went out a couple of times after that, but I didn't spend time alone with him. I wasn't afraid--I wasn't interested. Again I'm fairly sure if I'd freaked out, instead of lying there, he would have stopped. Am I 100 percent certain? It was a long time ago. Maybe I was stupid not to be afraid.
 
I remember that second event as a more unpleasant experience. Still, I was mostly annoyed. The incidents were not my favorite moments of my life but I didn't feel anything very strong or deep. That's the way I prefer it to this day. It was easy to get past them and get on with life. 

So anyway lately, I've read descriptions of rape that have included exactly these kind of meh experiences. Women who were ambivalent or unsure but didn't act at the time. They might read the description later on, have a bolt of horror and think "god, I was raped" I believe there's potential for harm in that--for the women.

I might be a little unclear about what exactly happened but here's the important part: I didn't lose any sleep over the incidents. In fact I joked about one of them with a friend at the time. I  wasn't scarred. Do I wish they hadn't happened? I don't think I even really thought about them that much to care. I might have used the experiences to think about what I did want in a lover and it wasn't what those guys had to offer.

this is important: I might have been bent a little by them but nothing precious within me had been broken. If that had happened, oh yeah, that is a whole nother story.

But I think if anyone else had informed me that those times were"rape" and I believed that description there would have been scarring and pain and horror all around.  Would I have believed it? I was impressionable then and hmmm I don't know. But if I had, that word is so strong. It would have packed so much of a punch I would have turned into a victim instead of a kind of bystander participant. I would have given a label to something that was essentially a non-event and charged it into something that would  have  lasting power over me. I would have seen myself in a new and not happy way. The guys--they're secondary to this point I'm making.

If I'd labeled it rape, itwould have brought in other people and god, that thought really does make me feel sick.

I think, if I were doing it all again, with my 20-20 almost worthless hindsight, I would have been more forthright with the guys. Maybe, if I were doing it again--if my memory of it was faulty and it might be because that's the way memory works, people. our memories are not usually the only reality--I could have worked up an interest instead of just opting out and waiting for the sex to end. I would have said "more of this, less of that" and helped them be better lovers. I was young. I was hoping to please them more than I wanted to please myself. (Another thing I hope women today have moved beyond)

Maybe I wouldn't have gone along with the sex. This is hard to look back on because the 20th century was a different world. I wanted people to like me and sex was a source of entertainment, not always a deeply moving experience. The difference between me and someone living through the same thing and ending up scarred and a victim might be a teflon layer, and maybe my lack of sensitivity not always a good thing.

so anyway, another person living through those same incidents might have felt them more. They might need to find a reason for the harm and the search might reveal rape. I would think yeah, that might fit. Those people need to have a word strong enough to uncover pain and shame that they carry. They have suffered real harm and need real strong words to help them. In those cases, they need the power of that word.

This is about me and my story, not theirs.

But NOT everybody needs that kind of answer for that kind of incident. And in fact, I think it might forcing a strong drug onto people who don't even need an aspirin.

 If I were young and impressionable and read that article by an expert -- I might have thought oh shit, RAPE. That's a lightning bolt of a word. It lights up everything to a terrifying degree. That word would have seared me--as well as the guys involved (but again, this isn't about them). It would have left marks where there were none.

To look at disappointment or regret at an act or look at a couple of clueless people who can't communicate and give it that label afterwards? SOMETIMES it helps no one. Turning a dissatisfying or even a sad sexual event into a crime -- sometimes that gives something that's best moved past and forgotten, or laughed at, real staying power in a woman's life.

Before you get indignant, keep in mind that my point is this is personal. This isn't my pointing fingers at someone else who's lived through this sort of experience and saying "laugh it off, girl." It's about me.

I wish I knew how a younger version of me would have respond if someone I respected had described what I'd experienced as rape. The older one's response is to write this long meandering look back that probably won't help anyone--not even me.

Horror Story

Her baby was gone. She woke up alone, in the dark, and reached for the comforting, sleeping shape of her baby but it was gone. 
She wanted to cry out but something had been jammed down her throat, cold and plastic. A tube, right, right…this was the hospital. They did that in hospitals, but she had to talk, to tell someone, the baby was more important than comfort. She reached for her face and the tube blocking her throat.  Pain then more tubes moved with her hand. Awful pinching, and pulling tubes she plucked at them and tears warmed hers skin.
The baby—she could hear it crying. 
Help me. The scream didn’t come to her mouth. She wasn’t strong enough to get the wretched thing from her throat which ached with plastic and tears.
She passed out. 
When she woke, she didn’t remember the baby immediately and when she did she wondered how she could have forgotten. Perhaps there’d been drugs. Had they moved her from a place she’d been comfortable, hoping she’d forget. Why was she here and in so much pain?
The baby. They’d taken it from her. God, please, who were these people? 
She called out, made a sound at last. Someone touched her arm. She shrank back because a stranger stroked her arm and pretended to know her, called her by name. Her skin felt as if it burned under that touch.
“My baby,” she managed to croak.
“You weren’t admitted because of a baby.”
Liar, she wanted to scream the word but was too afraid. The calm certainty in that stranger’s face confused her and, worse, made her own memories crumble and scramble but no. she wouldn’t be fooled. She’d come here because of the baby. 
“You’re lying."
“Try to rest,” the stranger said. “Please? Close your eyes for me?”
“Why would I do anything for you? You took my baby. Where is this place?” So much discomfort. Why wouldn’t they give her something for the pain? “It hurts.”
“Why am I here?”
“Why am I here?”
“Why am I here?”
“Where is my baby?”
They didn’t answer.  Or they did and the answers slipped away.
“Close your eyes.” The order was more impatient this time.  Fear made her obey.
The next time she came awake…what had happened to put her here in this place, surrounded by people she didn’t know.
“Where’s my son?”
“He had to go to work.”
That had to be wrong. If it had been a test, they failed--because now she remembered she came to the hospital for the baby. “You’re lying.”
But then the doctor came in, distracting everyone, even her, and he talked to her in a voice that was too loud and made her head hurt even more.
“Help me,” she whispered.
“We are, I promise,” he said in that horrible jolly voice they used. “You need to relax. Take a deep breath.”
“But…Wait.” She needed something, an urgency they hadn’t addressed. “I don’t know.”
She was in the hospital.  
They talked about healing times and the words drifted past in a mumble and when she asked the people standing at her bed to repeat, they grew impatient.  “I told you that already.”
“Why am I here? Where is my baby?”
“Here.” A dark-haired man said. She had never seen him before--she'd swear to that.
She peered at his arms looking for the bundle wrapped in a white cloth with faded blue bunnies, pilled with use. She knew that blanket, the precise size of that bundle as big as her meatloaf pan. The man’s arms were empty. “I don’t see him.”
“I’m your baby.”
She was too afraid to tell this hulking, grim-faced stranger he lied. Her heart slapped hard at the instant his face became familiar and she knew he wasn’t lying. So much worse. She opened her mouth and a strange cry filled the air. That was keening hers for a lost baby in a blue-and-white cloth. She’d lost a baby, a child, she’d lost a life. The pain was too large for any single body to hold and it had to come out.
“Hush, hush,” another stranger touched her. “Ma’am. Please stop. You’ll be fine, fine, thatagirl.”
Something cold touched her arm, on the inside. An IV, she knew that was it was. Something cold in the IV.
For the pain of having a baby, she said to herself. Though I wanted to have him naturally, maybe this was better? She was comforted for a minute and she slept.
Panic hit her when she woke alone, in the dark. Where was her baby?
 

weird book

I'm listening to Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Lost Prince and it's a funky book that didn't age well, not like her other books. Written just before WW1 it has a strange kind of worshipful attitude about righteous war and royal blood. There's a whacko religious feel to it, pseudo-zen stuff.

Also odd? There is no mention of the two kids' mothers. Not so much as A  Word. These two kids are only products of their fathers....and the Princely One is exactly image of his father who's the exact image of an ancestor who died 500 years earlier.

I can tell she was writing for boys who have no interest in female events but still, you'd think there'd be a passing remark, like 'golly, wish your mom could see you now!' And the only attractive female in it is an evil spy. I'm not at the end so maybe a woman will jump up and say, "yo, hey! Here I am, your mother whom you've never even given a passing thought to!"

There's a homoerotic vibe too, everyone falls for the kingly dad in a big way and they vibrate with joy when he's around. He calls his kid "comrade" and sends him off to danger because it's for Samavia! All is for Samavia!

The descriptions of the cities and mountains are cool and the freedom of their adventures would probably appeal to kids.

But....

Just...i

t's a strange book.

that time a strange black man accosted me

I was shoveling snow and the stranger, a big guy, tapped me on the shoulder and scared the crap out of me. I was out of breath and hadn't been paying attention to my surroundings.

"Give me that shovel," he demanded.

I tried to argue with him, but no. "Humor me.  No way I can stand by and watch you do that." He grabbed the shovel--I think he pulled it from my hands--and finished uncovering our walk, the sidewalk in front of the house, and the car. It took a while because there was a lot of snow. When he was done, he handed back the shovel and walked off without another word.

I was nine months pregnant at the time and trying to get that baby out. I felt was a total hormonal mess of resentment and gratitude.

I never saw him again.

interviewing

back to promo. And look! You can win prizes.

From the GeminiGirls: 3 days of our favourite M/M Romance authors, with reviews, interviews and of course, giveaways.
Bonnie's interview!


Summer speaks!

echo chamber

I realized today why I don't blog here--nothing to do with the fact that no one comments. I never did this blog for the comments...I usually did it to avoid work or to air my opinions.

I'm tarred of opinions. I'm tarred of comments and people being tarred of things, sick and tarred. Tarred, tarred, tarred. Internet burnout. That includes my own opinions, as it turns out. I keep starting to write things and then stop because hey If I don't care what I think, why would anyone else?

spoiler: no one, except molly the dog who waggles her big ears and stares deep into my eyes every time I say a word. And that's freaky after a while.

My response isn't 11 on the  scale of screamingly negative, more meh... Definitely not HEY NO BLEH. because HEY NO BLEH shows up on the comment thread on any article in any part of the internet and I wish to avoid that.

HEY NO BLEH is a kick or a slap because people are wrong or you think they're wrong or they are mean or they are rude or they are trying to be funny and they're not or they are being too serious when the topic is just funny (lighten up for god's sake) or they are clueless or they are off-topic or they are sexist/racist/ageist.

and the kick or slap response to the stupidity--it turns into part of the endless emotionfest. It turns the convo up to 12 every time.

Goats still rock. They're not a passing thing, not like owls or raccoons.

And my chickens are fine, thank you.  C3 is more than fine. That hero hen lays an egg every single day of the week. I worry about the poor girl. I wish the others would take up the slack. She is the best chicken ever. The other two could use some lessons on having a pleasant personality and on laying eggs.

one of those people

you know the ones who only use their blog to do promo?

I didn't want to be one of those people. At the moment I am.
Here's an article I wrote. Go comment. Thank you.  Please, please

I'm feeling slightly desperate about it, of course. Most promo puts me in a fingers trembling, head sweating sort of a mood. It's probably training.

But the fact is so many promotional efforts do not work and they don't work right out in public. Of course the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Q** Public are watching porny fun and not paying attention should made the whole thing less painful, because it's a nice quiet failure.

Somehow that never makes one feel better.


**Stands for Quigley. I'm not sure why or how, but that's what they said.

New Book Release Week events

First up:  the nice reviews which I may or may not have shown you, but here we are again because I love them so much.

HERE'S a good review (I plan on memorizing for those off days)
mmgoodbookreviews

AND here
http://top2bottomreviews.wordpress.co...

AND here:
http://www.prismbookalliance.com/2014...

HEY! HERE IS A GIVE AWAY -- win a copy here:
http://www.prismbookalliance.com/2014...

And the blog tour continues with a lovely bunch of antique filthy words here. Lots of naked people at the cupoporn site. http://cupoporn.blogspot.com/2014/07/...

There's this article about shape-shifter tropes I enjoy and play with at Boys in Our books blog

And FINALLY another giveway today at cup-o-porn

Happy New Book Week to Me!! And don't forget, until July 15, Predator's Passion (the first book set in this alternate world) is only 99 cents.