Devika Fernando's Blog, page 70

Book Club Tour: Review of Crossed & Knotted: India's First Composite Novel

Spotlight
Crossed &Knotted India's First Composite Novel



The Blurb

Crossed & Knotted is India’s first Composite Novel, a book written by fourteen authors in close collaboration with each other. The chapters, each a story in itself, are knotted with one another through characters, events, settings and emotions. The result is a read that criss-crosses through a multitude of emotions bringing out deep rooted human desires. They narrate tales of love and betrayal, suspense and mystery, courage and dilemma, along with hope and resilience. Read it for a taste so tantalizing, that your mind will surely be craving for more!

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ABOUT THE EDITOR
Sutapa Basu is an Honours scholar from Santiniketan and holds a Masters degree in English Literature. Her professional career has seen her as a teacher, editor, and publisher. She has worked with renowned international publishing houses like Oxford University Press and Encyclopaedia Britannica. In the last five years of her professional career, she has launched 111 educational titles, 33 CDs and digital products, a language lab and a website. She has also developed and edited over 450 books over the last thirteen years.
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER : READOMANIA
India has traditionally been the land of storytellers and a lot of us have an inherent skill of creating good plots, stories and narrations. With a little encouragement and support, many more authors can be widely read. This is the essence of Readomania-an initiative that nurtures emerging stars of the literary world.
Readomania is an online content discovery platform that brings to life a whole new literary world, with stories, authors, books and a lot more. We also have a publishing house that takes the best of Readomania from the online format to print editions and launches debut authors. Our focus is to bring to the market, new authors and novel concepts, a composite novel being one of them. Our previous book, Chronicles of Urban Nomads, a collection of short stories, was also an experimental publication. 
It would not be an exaggeration to say that Readomania is the talent hunt in fiction that goes a step beyond, nurtures talent and showcases it to the world, in the process, creating a powerhouse of content.
Our website also has a lot in store for the reader. Since the content is edited and curated, by a strong team of editors, readers get quality reads on a platter. The variety on Readomania is impressively vast; we have romance, emotions, thrills, travel, humour and drama. 
Accessing Readomania makes for a perfect break of fifteen minutes from your daily grind. The website was launched in January, 2014 and is already very popular with about 3500 registered users, of which 300 members are active contributors and authors. The site also boasts of 800 online publications and more than three lakh page views till date.




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ReviewWe all know about anthologies with short stories – but “Crossed & Knotted” is more than that. It’s a so-called composite novel where 14 short stories form one book with a common story arc, although each story can also be read as a stand-alone. Sounds fascinating, doesn’t it?

The 1st story in the book is “A Curious Dalliance” by Sutapa Basu. It introduces the main character Sudip and sets the scene and pace for the coming chapters. I liked the way the protagonist never even knew what came upon him when Megha decided his fate for him. He ended up in a marriage that reads a little like hell and starts off with a ‘bang’. It was interesting to see the wife presented as the villain and the husband and his family as the victims – but then came the shock. Very clever!

The 2nd story is “The Diary of Joseph Varughese” by Ayan Pal. I got to know Shivi, who had only been a baby in the first chapter. Her diary entries fascinated me and showed the author’s understanding of the human mind and soul. The first paranormal / mystery element of the novel was cleverly introduced in this story. And let’s not forget about ominous James entering the picture. Beware, beware!

The 3rd story is “The Web of Life” by Sanchita Sen Das. Siya, mentioned in the chapter before, gets a chance to speak up in this fast-paced chapter, outlining her relationship with Siddharth. The Kotteswaram air tragedy will stay on my mind for a while yet…

The 4th story is “The Real Fiction of Illiana Braun” by Arvind Passey. The humorous style of the author made it an entertaining read. Illiana and Varu seemed like two uncommon characters and would have deserved a book just for themselves.

The 5th story is “A Burning Candle” by Mithun Mukherjee. This is yet another tale of people meeting and lives colliding, and it carried narrative power as well as philosophical gems. Illiana made a reappearance, and I got another look at the power of a certain diary. The ending made me shiver.

The 6th story is “Relic to Ruins” by Avanti Sopory. Catherine from the previous chapter stood in the limelight again, but in a different way. The setting and characters really came alive in this chapter. I caught a glimpse of Afghanistan and more danger.

The 7th story is “Leap of Faith” by Bhaswar Mukherjee. Picking up the thread, the chapter revolves around Afghanistan and is told from the POV of Jabar. I got to know more about Jameela from the previous chapter, and had the feeling that the tide was changing. There was a positive feel to the story. Many more characters added even more hope.

The 8th story is “Reclaiming Life” by Anupama Jain. The style and protagonist differed a lot from what I had just read, but that was refreshing and entertaining. It was easy to identify with Poorni and root for her. The ending asked an important question that prepared me for the rest of the book.

The 9th story is “Dragon Lady” by Deepti Menon. The title itself was intriguing, and the story started off with a bang and held me captive right throughout. The humorous tinge to it, combined with the effortless writing and the many conflicts thrown into the spicy mixture, made for a very entertaining read. Kamu sounded like a real handful, and her baby Pankaj added to the hullaballoo. Binoy was interesting and fitted into the picture just perfectly. I got to meet Poorni again, and what a surprise that was. Let’s just say that the title was done full justice by the author.

The 10th story is “For a Speck of a Moment” by Amrit Sinha. It shone more light on Binoy and made me rethink quite a few things. The chapter struck me as full of action, and it carried enough potential to deserve a whole book. Binita made it shine even brighter.

The 11th story is “To Ma & Pa, Con Amore” by Monika Nair. It read a little like a family saga and was full of emotional sensitivity and brilliant buoyancy at once. I fell in love with the narrative style – and Mona Lisa was a refreshing whirlwind breezing through the chapter. This story felt the most ‘modern’, ‘real’ and ‘light’ to me. Prepare yourselves for Binoy’s re-entry.

The 12th story is “Look Beyond” by Amar Lakshya Pawar. I could sense that the book was gearing up for its end because we seemed to come closer to full circle. The rather short chapter revolved around Aditya and threw up a lot of questions while answering others. I met the Three Witches again, something I had been hoping would happen.

The 13th story is the oddly but aptly titled “Dawn at Dusk” by Bhuvaneshwari Shankar. The previously introduced Meena takes center stage in this chapter that races towards the end of the novel. I loved the fast-paced yet sensitive style of the author. Oh, did I mention that I got reacquainted with Sudip from the 1st story? Throw in Shivi too, and you feel a little like at a highschool reunion.

The 14th story is the perfectly named “The Last Act” by Arpita Banerjee. The author probably had the most difficult task, and she rose to the challenge brilliantly. The first sentence pulled me in, and I was left breathless right throughout the story with its clever climax. Meena (together with Pragya) carried me through the chapter and made me realize again how crazy love can make us sometimes. Sudip closes the curtain on a book that is definitely worth this long review.

All in all, I found “Crossed & Knotted” to be a refreshingly different and rewarding experience. It was at times a little difficult to keep up with all the characters and to build a whole picture from all the puzzle pieces presented in so many ways. Nevertheless, the story’s overlying theme of love and lies and life held my attention. Well done!

Rating: 4/5

Featured - Blog Tour for Lady of Flames by Barbara Monajem

Lady of the Flames by Barbara Monajem Series: A Most Peculiar SeasonGenre: Regency Historical Paranormal RomanceRelease Date: March 23, 2015


Magic is fraught with peril—but so is love.

Lord Fenimore Trent’s uncanny affinity for knives and other sharp blades led to knife fights, duels, and murderous brawls. Five years ago, he faced a choice: marry Andromeda Gibbons, the woman he loved, or find a safe, peaceful use for his blades by opening a furniture shop—an unacceptable occupation for a man of noble birth. The choice made itself when Andromeda turned to another man. The furniture shop prospered, but now Fen’s partner has been accused of treason. In order to root out the real traitor, he may face another unpalatable choice—to resort to the violent use of his blades once again.

Once upon a time, Andromeda Gibbons believed in magic. That belief faded after her mother’s death and vanished completely when Lord Fenimore, the man she loved, spurned her. Five years later, Andromeda has molded herself into a perfect—and perfectly unhappy—lady. When she overhears her haughty betrothed, the Earl of Slough, plotting treason, she flees into the London night—to Fen, the one man she knows she can trust. But taking refuge with Fen proves to mean far more than getting help—it means learning to believe in love, magic, and the real Andromeda once again.



Years ago, Andromeda had felt no need to talk when with Fen, but now it was uncomfortable, like conversing with a stranger. She took a sip of coffee and ate a sausage roll. She sipped some more coffee. She gazed around the room and finally found something to say.

“Did you carve the figures on your looking-glass frame?” she said. As a boy, he had whittled constantly. “They seem so…familiar somehow.”

“They should,” he said with a sudden smile. “I carved it from my memories of the fairies and hobgoblins back home.”

“Fairies and hobgoblins?”

“At your father’s estate,” he said. “Surely you remember Cuff the bedchamber hob, and Heck the buttery spirit, and all the rest.”

“My mother told stories about them,” Andromeda said, nostalgia filling her again. “I must say, I like the way you've imagined them.”

Fen frowned at her, his smile fading, his eyes perplexed. “I didn't imagine them,” he said. “I saw them.”

Andromeda rolled her eyes. “That sounds like something my mother would have said.”

“Because she saw them, too.”

Andromeda began to be annoyed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fen. She made up stories based on tales she was told as a child.”

Fen shook his head. “You saw them when you were small. You saw Cuff and Heck and the others. We both did.”

“No,” Andromeda said. “We saw movement out of the corners of our eyes and said they were fairies, but we were just playing games.”

Fen’s expression was pained. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

“There’s nothing to remember,” she insisted, wolfing down another cream puff. “As a matter of fact, that happened to me this morning. I had the impression that one of the creatures on the looking-glass winked at me, but of course it didn't really do so.”

“What a pity,” Fen said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you've forgotten. That wink was Cuff’s way of saying good-day to you. He’s somewhere hereabouts. He’s the only one I didn't have to carve from memory, because he came with me when I left home.” He glanced toward the tin cup and plate by the wall. “He ate the bread and milk I put out, and I gave him the rest of your brandy, too.”

She couldn't stand any more of this. “Fen, stop this nonsense! We’re in danger from traitors and spies who murder people, and all you can talk about is hobgoblins.”

He went on as if she hadn't spoken. “I wondered why he came with me when I left, but it’s because he enjoys human company.” He grimaced. “Your father and aunt aren't his sort of humans. I thought you were, and so did your mother, but evidently you’re not.”

That struck her like a blow. “What do you mean, my mother thought I was. Was what?”

“She had a sizeable amount of fairy blood, so she thought you must have some, too—but perhaps she was wrong.” He paused. “I know I have some. It’s not uncommon for children to see fairies, but I didn't lose that when I grew up. Not only that, it’s their magic that guides my knives and tools, and inspires me when it comes to furniture design.”

She couldn't bear it. “Stop it! You’re as—as mad as my mother was.”

“She wasn't mad, Andromeda.” He sighed. “And whether or not you see the fairies, they’re still here.”

She put her hands to her ears and shut her eyes. After all the chaos of yesterday, this was too much. When he said and did nothing, she opened her eyes again. “Why did she discuss me with you?”

“Who else was there to speak to? Your father and aunt, although worthy people, wouldn't have understood. They already found her far too strange.”

This was true—but it was because Mama’s mind was unbalanced.

“She knew I cared for you,” Fen said.

His eyes were kind but dispassionate; his use of the past tense meant that he didn't care anymore, except perhaps as an old friend. Why couldn't she become accustomed? Every single reminder hurt.

“You believed in them at the time your mother died,” he said. “She gave you that heart-shaped locket, didn't she?” It still hung at her breast, but she resisted the urge to clasp it in her hand.

“I was nine years old. I believed in many foolish things then,” she retorted. Such as magic, but a household run by her aunt was no longer vibrant with promise or belief in anything much at all. And then, when she was seventeen, Fen had destroyed what little belief remained. She didn't try to keep the bitterness from her voice. “I learned soon enough what utter nonsense it all was.”

He watched her, head cocked to one side, as if she were some strange, incomprehensible creature. “As a matter of interest, when did you stop believing?”

How dare he ask such a personal question? “What business is that of yours?”

“None, I suppose.” He shrugged and stood. “Stay away from the windows. I’ll see if my valet has found you something to wear.” He took the last of the beignets, set it on a saucer, and left it on the floor by the wall.

As if prying into her business wasn't enough, now he was mocking her. Did he seriously expect her to believe that a hobgoblin would eat the beignet? Anger stirred and grew within her. “If you must know, it was at the same time I gave up other foolishness, such as believing in love!”

Fen stared at her, his expression incredulous. He left the room, slamming the door behind him. By what right was he upset? Not content with playing stupid games with her, did he really not remember what he’d done to her five years ago?



Paperback

Barbara Monajem grew up in western Canada. She wrote her first story, a fantasy about apple tree gnomes, when she was eight years old, and dabbled in neighborhood musicals at the age of ten. At twelve, she spent a year in Oxford, England, soaking up culture and history, grubbing around at an archaeological dig, playing twosy-ball against the school wall, and spending her pocket money on adventure novels. Thanks to her mother, she became addicted to Regency romances as well. She is the award-winning author of several Regency novellas, many of which include elements of magic, and the Bayou Gavotte series of paranormal mysteries. Apart from writing, she loves to cook (especially soups), and the only item on her bucket list is to be successful at knitting socks (which she doesn't expect to achieve). She lives near Atlanta, Georgia, with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and feline strays.




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Blogging from A to Z Challenge - Letter I (Intimacy)

I for Intimacy
I write what people call sweet / clean / sensual romance as opposed to romance with a higher heat level. Of course that doesn't mean that I don't include some steamier scenes, I just tone them down and keep them non-explicit.
To me, this isn't the only difference between the two genres. I find that in sweet romance novels, the focus lies more on love than on lust. And that is exactly my cup of tea for writing. I try to create scenes of intimacy where not only the body is involved, but where the physical aspect is joined by mind and soul. Otherwise it would just be I for intercourse... ;-)

Here's an example of the intimate scenes I write, taken from my latest book "Saved in Sri Lanka":

......................................................................

She saw his body tense, and his eyes changed color to a darker slate gray with hardly any blue in it. He laid his hand on the side of her neck where her pulse beat against it like frantically fluttering bird’s wings. When he leaned down, her eyes closed.

The next instant he kissed her. His lips, firm and cool, were barely touching hers. It was a kiss of tantalizing softness, tentative and tender.

When she didn’t scream or shove at him or run, he brushed his mouth against hers again, adding more pressure.

Sepalika wanted more, much more. So she kissed him back, throwing all caution to the wind. With a sigh, he deepened the kiss, angling his mouth, his thumb caressing the hollow at her throat. Her hands came up, searching for a hold, for any way to keep herself from melting under his now firmer but still heart-breakingly gentle kiss. She grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, pulled herself up, and felt a thousand sensations flood her.

Never had a kiss felt this magical, never had it awakened her lust like this.

It was as if she had lived all life for this moment, as if her lips were connected to every single particle of her body, setting it on fire.

When the tip of his tongue brushed over her mouth, she couldn’t suppress a moan. The sound seemed to come from deep out of herself, and it barely registered because she was so lost in the magic of the moment.

Daniel drew back slightly and whispered her name in what was as much a question as it was a groan.

The sound of her name on his lips, spoken so full of feeling, burst the bubble. Sepalika realized with a start what they were doing, and panic surged through her, obliterating desire.

Letting go of his jacket as if she had touched a poisonous plant, she stumbled backwards until her back hit the door frame. With a hand to her mouth on which she could still feel his kiss, she stared at him.

His breathing was ragged, and his eyes with the dilated pupils were wide open and wounded before she saw him close himself off.

“Goodnight then…sweet dreams,” he called softly, stepping back with obvious reluctance. When he mentioned the word “dreams”, it reminded her of his previous comment, and she bit her lip. Oh yes, she’d definitely dream of him tonight—if she ever fell asleep, that is.
This post is linked to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2015.

Blogging from A to Z Challenge - Letter H (Honesty)

H for Honesty
This post is linked to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge and will deal with a very important aspect of love: Honesty.

Many romance novels revolve around one theme: One of the protagonists is keeping a secret from the other. Often that is the sole cause for why the love story ends tragically, why they fight (before getting back together for a happy end) or the cause for why they don’t want to fall in love with the other person in the first place. Sometimes I find myself frustrated by how small said secret is or how easily it could have been found out. At other times I see how far-fetching the consequences of telling a lie or hiding the truth can be for the protagonists. And then I inevitably ask myself whether a relationship could ever work without honesty. Aren’t love and honesty linked inextricably? Can you even speak of real love if one of the couple isn’t honest?

The following might be useful for developing characters and plot lines (not only in romance novels):

What might cause a person in love not to be honest?
-    fear of being rejected
-    the secret is dangerous / the truth will hurt
-    it’s not their own secret but they’ve sworn to keep it
-    can’t find the right moment / never get the chance to speak about it
-    previous bad reactions to the revealed information have harmed them
-    one lie leads to another
-    someone blackmails them into lying
-    they find it of small importance / don’t even realize there’s a misunderstanding
-    they take revenge for the other one lying to them
If you read my latest romance novel "Saved in Sri Lanka", you'll see what consequences keeping something secret can have, and why someone might feel it's necessary.

In the end, though, I firmly believe that honesty is the only way. If you really love someone, they deserve the truth. Reveal the secret or truth as soon as possible because otherwise the mosquito that whines in your ear but can be swatted away turns into a huge elephant that takes up the whole room and pushes the two people in love further and further apart. The longer you wait, the deeper the hurt because you’ll make the other person feel that you don’t trust them or that you hide much more from them.

I’m signing off for today with some powerful HONESTY quotes.

Blogging from A to Z Challenge - Letter G (Good Enough)

G for Good Enough

For today’s post, which is linked to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2015, I want to focus on how love can make people feel good enough.

Whenever someone asks me “What do you like so much about romance novels?” (as a reader) and “Why do you write romance novels?”, I answer that there’s not only a love story to enjoy but also the character’s inner journey and development. I believe that falling in love and being truly loved changes us inevitably. What I have noticed often is that we learn to love ourselves by loving someone else. A very important aspect of this change is that we learn to accept ourselves and others. We realize that we are good enough.

I often use this in my romance novels where the heroine and the hero understand that they’re worth fighting for and that they deserve happiness. And that’s exactly the message I want to spread today: YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH. Don’t let anyone think you’re not worth the trouble or you’re beneath them or not loveable. You don’t need to be slimmer or taller or fairer, you don’t have to be richer. You’re you, and that is good enough because it makes you unique. (Of course that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t strive to become better, but that’s a different story.)


I want to leave you with the lyrics of a song that has helped me through many dark days in the past.

Good enough by Darren Hayes (former singer of Savage Garden)

If I woke up late
Couldn’t get out of bed
If I bought you a café latte instead
If I lied when I said 32 inches was the size of my waist
And if I admit every once in a while
Even though I dig alternative style
Occasionally I can be caught dancin’ to Britney
And can I confess
That art house doesn’t turn me on
But I like every single thing that Spielberg’s done

Could I be good enough
Could I be good enough
If the going got worse and the worse got rough
The days became endless and harder than tough
I’d be good enough
Better than best would be simply to be good enough
If everything I give doesn’t seem like a lot
If it’s all that I got
Baby tell that could be good enough

Where I grew up
The rent was cheap
But we always had enough to eat
Didn’t have fancy clothes
I never really cared coz there were shoes on my toes
And motherly love
I knew it like the back of my hand
She always had a way to make me understand

I could be good enough
I could be good enough
If the going got worse and the worse got rough
The days became endless and harder than tough
I’d be good enough
Better than best would be simply to be good enough
If everything I give doesn’t seem like a lot
If it’s all that I got
Baby tell me that could be good enough

Coz I don’t know which way this road is gonna turn
But I know it’s gonna be fine
But there are some days no matter how much I’ve learned
That the road gets tough
And I don’t feel good enough
But if you’re giving me some of that loving
Could you pass some over
Let me cry on your shoulder and tell me baby
I could be good enough

If I lost my job
And my hair fell out
If I made no sense
And I scream and shout
Would you laugh at me?
Never take a word I say seriously
And if I’m out in the cold
Waiting in the back of the line
Too afraid to drop my name for fear of decline

Could you tell me I’m good enough? Could I be good enough?
If the going got worse and the worse got rough
The days became endless and harder than tough
I’d be good enough
Better than best would be simply to be good enough
If everything I give doesn’t seem like a lot
If it’s all that I’ve got
Baby tell me that could be good enough

I need to know that I could be good enough
Because everybody wants to feel good enough
Show me baby
Tell me
Come on a prove it baby
Give it to me

Featured - Promo Blitz - Duchess by Mistake by Cheryl Bolen

Duchess by Mistake by Cheryl Bolen Series: House of Haverstock, #2Genre: Historical RomanceRelease Date: April 7, 2015


Another of Cheryl Bolen's classic marriage-of-convenience stories

An innocent visit to the Duke of Aldridge's to request a donation for her war widows puts Lady Elizabeth Upton in the midst of a most shocking scandal. . .

The Duke of Aldridge offers for his best friend's sister, Lady Elizabeth Upton, after a mix-up sends her to his bedchamber—just as he's emerging from his bath. She most certainly does not want to force the duke's hand, but how can she bear the shame her scandalous behavior has cast upon her dear brother, the Marquess of Haverstock?

Once she agrees to marry her childhood heartthrob, Elizabeth realizes she wants nothing more than to win her husband's love. But capturing his heart is no easy task when former loves threaten to destroy the fragile bonds of their marriage.



Some time after donning a dress which matched the periwinkle colour of her eyes and topping it with matching pelisse suitable for calling at Aldridge House, Lady Elizabeth Upton found herself knocking upon the door of the Duke of Aldridge's fine house on Berkeley Square. She wondered how many times Charles had passed through this door during his two and thirty years. Since she had only come out three years previously, she had never had the opportunity to pay a call upon the duke, owing to his long absence from England.

The white-haired butler who answered her knock looked as if he'd been in the employ of the Aldridges for at least two generations. He quickly offered her a tight smile and spoke before she had the chance to offer her card. "Please come in. His grace awaits. If you will just follow me up the stairs."

She supposed with this being the duke's first day back, he was entertaining callers in the drawing room. She had not considered that she would not have him all to herself. It would be difficult to beg him for the significant donation in a room full of people. Her brother had once said the duke did not like to have his charities acknowledged, preferring anonymity.

Her gaze lifted to the massive chandelier that glistened above, then she began to follow the stooped-over butler as he mounted the stairs, his movements slowed by age. All the way up the impressive, iron banistered staircase portraits of long-dead Aldridges stood almost one on top of the other and seemed to be staring at her.

To her surprise, when they reached the first floor he did not stop but continued mounting stairs to the next level. Though her experience with ducal residences was limited, she was unaccustomed to finding a drawing room so far removed from the home's entrance. In most of the houses with which she was familiar, the third level was reserved for bedchambers.

They reached the third level. It was slightly less formal than the second level, actually looking remarkably like the third--bedchamber--level at Haverstock House. The butler turned to the right and shuffled along another corridor until he reached the first paneled and gilded door. It was closed. He teetered to a stop and turned to face her with a somber countenance. "You will find his grace in here." Then he began to retrace his steps.

She drew in a breath, reached for the door handle, and opened it.

She heard a splashing sound before the door was fully open. How peculiar. When she had clear view of the room, she gasped. There in its center, framed by the fireplace behind him, the Duke of Aldridge was emerging from his bath. His long, glistening, gloriously formed body was completely naked.

In her entire life Lady Elizabeth Upton had never seen a naked man in the flesh. Though her first instinct should have been to run screaming from the chamber, she was frozen to the spot, unable to remove her gaze from . . . the manly part. And so much more. From his wide shoulders along his burnished skin and muscled limbs, the dark-haired duke exuded a masculinity like nothing she had ever seen.

A flood of memories of her former adoration of this man many years ago walloped her. She felt the heat climbing into her cheeks and knew she should flee from the profligate duke. Yet, like a compulsion to watch a grim sight not suitable for female sensibilities, she was incapable of turning away.

"You're not Belle!" he said, snatching his toweling and covering the lower portion of his statue-worthy body. His voice held a note of incredulity.

No doubt, Belle was a lady of the demimonde. What a wicked man he was! To think, his first day back in the kingdom he chose to spend with a woman of that sort.

At the sound of his voice, she realized how shameless she must appear. And how very improper it was for her to be there. She came to her senses, let out a full-fledged scream, turned on her heel, and fled down the stairs.

And came face to face with her brother.

"Haverstock!" she cried.

His brows lowered with concern. "What's the matter, Lizzie?"

She tossed her head back in the direction of the duke's private chamber. "That man! He's thoroughly debauched." Then she scurried down the stairs. Never again would she come to this . . . this temple of profligacy.

***
Aldridge was having the devil of a time trying to remember where he had seen that chit before. No doubt, she was a lady of Quality. He'd likely scared the poor thing senseless. There had obviously been a serious misunderstanding.

As soon as he called for Lawford, Haverstock came striding into Aldridge's bedchamber. When he saw that Aldridge was without clothing, his facial expressions thundered. "What in the hell were you doing with my sister?"

Oh, damn! That's why she looked familiar! The duke grimaced. "It's not what you think."

Haverstock's gaze raked over him from the top of his wet head down the full length of his nakedness. "Oh, isn't it? My god, Aldridge, she's an innocent! How could you?"

By then Aldridge's valet had come striding in with fresh clothing for his master, and Aldridge began to dress. "It seems I owe her an apology. I assure you I have no dishonorable designs on your sister."

Haverstock regarded him thoughtfully for a long, silent moment. "Then are you saying your intentions toward Elizabeth are honorable?"

"But of course. What do you take me for?"

"It appears I shall now take you for my brother-in-law."




Cheryl Bolen is the New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of over 20 romances, both historical and contemporary mystery. Many of her books have placed in contests, including the Daphne du Maurier (romantic suspense) and have been translated into ten languages. She was Notable New Author in 1999. In 2006 she won the Holt Medallion, Best Historical, and in 2012 she won Best Historical in the International Digital Awards and she's had four other titles place in that competition. Her 2011 Christmas novella was named Best Novella in the Romance Through the Ages. She invites readers to www.CherylBolen.com, or her blog, www.cherylsregencyramblings.wordpress.com or Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cheryl-Bolen-Books/146842652076424.




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Blogging from A to Z Challenge - Letter F (Forbidden Love)

F for Forbidden Love
_ Forbidden love is my topic for today’s blog post linked to the A to Z Challenge.

I’m fascinated with this topic because it’s featuring so prominently in current bestsellers as well as all-time popular books and movies. There are so many works revolving around forbidden desire / attraction / love, that this is just a short list (Goodreads has an extensive collection of almost 800 books for the search term, go figure!):

-          Lolita by Vladminir Nabokov
-          Atonement by Ian McEwan
-          Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
-          Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence
-          The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje
-          Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
-          Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
-          Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
-          The Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer
-          The Thornbirds by Colleen McCullough
-          The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
-          Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
-          Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez
-          Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

What all these books have in common is that they portray why the love is forbidden, and that they allow a glimpse of what the illicit love affair can do to the protagonists. They show the craving, the added thrill, the rules and obligations that bind people and sometimes even prevent true love. Often they also shed light on the consequences of an affair, and how far its influence stretches.


There are countless reasons why a relationship is forbidden:

-          teacher and student (very popular)
-          two people from different races / religions / social strata / financial backgrounds
-          a big age difference
-          already committed
-          social norms, expectations, arranged marriages
-          the lovers are related to each other
-          the relationship would endanger (one of) them

And now let me conclude my post with shameless self-promotion for the romantic suspense novel I coauthored with Mike Wells, which is titled FORBIDDEN. Here’s the synopsis of the Amazon bestselling book:

One woman caught in a dark web of deceit, domination and greed. One man she's forbidden to love.

When Lady Eleanor Sotheby unexpectedly enters the life of Jayne Clark, a 23-year old waitress from Wichita, Kansas, Jayne's world is turned upside down. Not only is she welcomed into a family that she never knew, but she is thrust headlong into the highest strata of European society. Nothing is too grand in the fairy tale lives of the uber-rich--the spectacular seaside villas, the sleek, chauffeured limousines, the outrageously expensive designer clothes.
When Jayne plays her part and learns to fit into this new world, she meets Robert Astor, the man of her dreams. But her feelings for Robert are forbidden. Jayne's heady new life begins to unravel into a dark web of deceit, domination and greed...and she ultimately finds herself confronting an evil that truly has no limits.


You can find all the download links here.

Blogging from A to Z Challenge - Letter E (Embrace)

E for Embrace
For the letter E I have chosen to write about the significance of an embrace. It is associated with all kinds of love, from passionate to compassionate, from lustful to platonic.

Embracing seems to be in our nature. I still remember how powerfully one picture spoke to me that I saw on the internet: Twins had been born prematurely. They were tiny. Doctors had chosen to put them into the same incubator. What the photo captured was a magical moment: The slightly bigger and healthier twin had put his arm around his little brother, drawing him close in a soothing embrace while both slept to grow a little stronger. In this case, a picture indeed speaks more than a 1000 words, so here it is.
The babies weren’t more than a few weeks old and had no understanding of how the world works, but they resorted to the comfort a hug can bring. And that’s what’s foremost on my mind when I think about an embrace. Not passion and whatever might follow the hug, but the comforting feeling of having someone’s arms around you. These arms seem to shut the world and all the problems out.

 

An embrace signifies so many things and conveys a myriad messages:

-          You belong to me. You’re mine, and I’m yours.
-          You’re not alone. We’re in this together.
-          I’m here for you.
-          It will be alright / things will get better.
-          It’s okay to cry, everybody hurts.
-          Have faith, be courageous, and fight on.
-          I like you, I care about you… you are loved.
-          You matter. I accept you.

Some people even believe in the healing power of an embrace. It is part of a holistic approach to life and of alternative medicine. And why not? Don’t we all feel a little better if someone embraces us? How about those videos where strangers embrace and form a spontaneous connection that is often taken further? And how about the fact that everywhere around the world, through all layers of society and all ages, embraces mean much the same and play an important role? And how about using “to embrace something” as a synonym for acceptance and support?

This post is linked to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2015.

Blogging from A to Z Challenge - Letter D (Desire)

For today's #AtoZChallenge blog post, I've written another poem matching my theme of LOVE. The first poem was for the letter A (Attraction). This one deals with D for Desire.
Desire It crawls towards you
Creeps up on you
Sinks inside you
And explodes
It tosses and turns you
‘Round and ‘round
Upside down
Inside out
And throws you about

You don’t know what it is but it’s inside you
It’s in your eyes when you look at him
In your heart when it pounds a new rhythm
In your body when it longs and aches for his touch
It controls you, teases you and devours you
Makes you want to be devoured by it and by him
Makes you want to taste the forbidden fruit
Makes you want to dance in the summer rain
Makes you beam and radiate with the sun

It’s all around you and inside you

It crawled towards you
The moment your eyes took his beauty in for the first time
It crept up on you
The moment he walked towards you as if he knew you best
It sank inside you
The moment his hands grabbed and stroked yours intimately
It exploded
The moment you smiled back at him though you didn’t know him

You are desired now, you desire – and you are desire burning brightly.


This post is linked to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2015.

Blogging from A to Z Challenge - Letter C (Crush)

C for Crush
For the letter C I choose the topic Crush to match my theme of LOVE. Here’s a short piece of flash fiction.

Lucy checked her watch. She felt her pulse flutter in her throat with excitement.
Be calm, be calm, she recited in her head, but she couldn’t help from wiping her sweaty palms over her denims.
You can do it, she whispered to herself before pushing herself away from the wall she had been leaning against, waiting and overthinking things.
Biting her lip, she crossed the courtyard that was slowly getting crowded, not even glancing at the other students who were getting ready for the interval. Her gaze was focused on the blue classroom door at the opposite end of the courtyard that would open any moment to release a stream of boisterous boys and girls.
Shifting her focus for a few seconds, Lucy made sure her white blouse with the tiny red flowers sat just right. She adjusted the strap of her messenger bag with one hand while the other hand smoothed her chestnut-brown hair out of her slightly flushed face.
Today’s the day, she kept repeating in her mind while taking deep breaths.
The blue door opened and she quickened her pace. She knew exactly when he’d come out, and with whom, and where he’d go. She’d been watching him for weeks now, ever since that day when they had knocked into each other in front of the cafeteria, and he had smiled a dazzling smile – and stolen her heart. Patrick. Her crush.
A silly besotted grin crawled across her face, and she quickly composed herself. Timing her steps and lowering her head so nobody would see her peeking out from beneath her bangs, Lucy walked towards the classroom.
She heard his voice before she saw him. He was discussing their homework, enthusing about a Science project that he found thrilling. The energy and underlying laughter in his already deep, manly voice did funny things to her insides, making them all tingly as if butterflies were dancing in her stomach.
Lucy waited with bated breath. She dared a sneak peek at Patrick, at his tall and slim body and his shock of unruly blond hair falling to his shoulders.
When he had reached the right spot and she was close enough, she launched into action. Timing, it was all about timing…
The moment had come.
With a surprised, soft squeal she staggered as if she had stumbled or been pushed. She fell right in front of Patrick’s feet, just managing to break her fall safely with her hands.
Time stood still around them, frozen into a memory she’d never forget.
The next thing she knew, she could feel his hands on her arms and hear his voice so close that his breath ruffled her hair.
“Hey, are you alright?”
She looked up and they locked gazes. Suddenly time wasn’t frozen but stretched in an infinite moment filled with magic. Lucy blushed and blinked and muttered something incoherent, overcome by being in the presence of her crush.
Patrick smiled down at her, an unreadable expression in his sky-blue eyes.
“Oh, it’s you again. Looks like our paths keep crossing…”
She felt her blush deepen, knowing that this time fate had been helped along by her. When he pulled her up and checked her for injuries, she felt infinitely glad that she had plucked up enough courage to progress from just following him and watching his every move.
“What’s your name?” he asked, and she whispered her answer, suddenly shy.
Lucy was filled with so many hopes and such strange elation she thought she’d explode.


This post is linked to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2015.
Having a crush on someone