Election Day Tomorrow! Escape the chaos and vote for your favorite Rose Gordon Hero–

Election Day is tomorrow! Escape the chaos and vote for your favorite Rose Gordon Hero–

Online of course, not really on your ballot.

So in the spirit of “I cannot handle anymore political turmoil and arguing”, I will be hosting my own list of measures to vote on up on Facebook tomorrow. I am not holding a totally fair vote because I don’t plan to post all the questions here tonight–you’ll have to visit my Facebook Page to vote on all the measures. (And of course there will be plenty of prizes to go around.)

The big question, however, is…Who at the end of the night will be crowned the most beloved Rose Gordon. This hero will get special privileges (don’t they all already??) for the next four years and of course be crowned the King of Rose Gordon’s Heroes at the end of the night.

Now of course with so many candidates, it’s only right to hold a small debate so without further ado, I have brought them all here to give a short speech about why THEY deserve such an honor…

[I should warn you that much like the other debates we’ve all witnessed this year, most of the candidates do NOT stay on topic and interrupt each other often…Be warned.]

Gentlemen, in three sentences, or less, could you please tell us why YOU should hold the coveted spot of Most Beloved Rose Gordon Hero for the next four years. We shall go in order of appearance, Andrew Black, Earl of Townson, we shall begin with you.

BENJAMIN COLLINS, DUKE OF GATEWAY: Pardon me, Rose, but actually I appeared before Townson. *grins wildly and folds his arms across his puffed out chest* And in his own book no less…

That will be enough of that.

ANDREW: Yes, we all remember that profound moment, you made the book start with a bang…or should I say a slap heard around the world?

Enough! You two are starting to remind me of real life too much and I do wield the power to remove you both from the running. Now, we shall begin—in the order of heroes. Andrew, you’re your first.

ANDREW—HERO FROM INTENTIONS OF THE EARL: As Rose’s first hero, I should think the honor belongs to me. Not only as the first am I the one she obviously used up her best traits and dialogue with, but I am also the one whose book has been read most, therefore I am most well known.

GATEWAY: *snorts*

shoots a sharp look at Gateway

GATEWAY: *throws hands up into the air* I’m entitled to my own opinion on that. His book might have been downloaded more, but have you seen those reviews?

No and I don’t care to. Paul, your turn.

PAUL—HERO FROM LIBERTY FOR PAUL: I was saddled with Liberty, need I say more?

*sighs* If you didn’t fall madly in love with her by the end, I’d say the honor is yours by default, but…

PAUL: *grins* All right, I think I should be the favorite because A. I got Liberty to stop reading—and quoting—books on propriety; B. I also beat her at her own game; and C. I had my clothes stolen while in the tub, D. beans—that were supposed to be my head—stabbed to an oblivion AND E. am ninety percent sure that my mother-in-law glimpsed me naked. Franky, I’m a damn shoo-in.

Ahem, well, I’m not sure what to say to that. Next?

GATEWAY—HERO FROM TO WIN HIS WAYWARD WIFE: No, Paul, I’m the shoo-in. I’ve been Rose’s most loved hero from the start.

ANDREW: Yes, I recall everyone rooting for you all during my romance with Brooke. NOT!

Boys.

GATEWAY: As I said, I’ve always been the favorite. Have any of you ever peeked in Rose’s inbox? No? It’s me the young girls write about and tell tales of their swooning and say if Arid Alex over there could fashion a time machine, they’d travel–

SIR WALLACE BENEDICT: I believe you’ve spoken more than three sentences.

*all eyes swing to Wallace who is adjusting his cravat*

GATEWAY: Sorry, chap, I was trying to stop at a prime number.

And I have a feeling you aren’t done yet… Nonetheless, you are for now. Alex?

ALEX BANKS—HERO FROM HER SUDDEN GROOM: If I was playing the pity card like Paul, I’d remind everyone I have the nickname of Arid Alex and was once betrothed to Lady Olivia. *shudders* However, I shall instead remind you all of my intellectual pursuits of a regular subscription to Prominent and Avant-Garde Horticulture, being an avid student of chess, having been entrusted to be the guardian of several young ladies…and as Gateway so nicely pointed out, if anyone was capable of creating a time machine, I’m your hero. Therefore, most beloved hero…again, I’m your hero.

GATEWAY: Are we supposed to applaud now?

ANDREW:I don’t know, but his speech is more worthy of applause than yours.

I won’t warn you two again. One more outburst and you’ll be excused from the room.

GATEWAY: Are you threatening voter fraud?

No! You’ll still be in the running, I can’t delete you from the ballot at this late date, but I will banish you from the room so you won’t be able to have another word. Now, let’s hear from Marcus.

MARCUS, LORD SINCLAIR—HERO FROM HER RELUCTANT GROOM: Hands down, I think everyone would agree I am the most honorable of all of your heroes. Even the ones who are given such an honor in their book title— *casts his grey eyes to where Sebastian, Giles and Simon, the three heroes from the Gentlemen of Honor Series, are seated* —I had a lovely young woman staying in my house unchaperoned for quite a while and not a whisper of scandal befell either of us. Nor was she in any way unmarriagable when she left.

PATRICK—HERO FROM HER SECONDHAND GROOM: *snorts* Sir Wallace might disagree with that. She wasn’t very interested in marrying him after you’d given her a lesson in male anatomy and base desires courtesy of a little book in your library.

MARCUS: I’d say all four of our wives— *gestures to Alex, Patrick, Sir Wallace and himself* —benefited in some way from Lady Bird’s Ladybird Memoir.

SIR WALLACE: *clearing his throat, and whispering* I can’t complain too much about that book, Patrick.

MARCUS: *stretches legs out in front of himself, crosses ankles* See? Emma’s gift to Edwina was the perfect apology.

ALEX: Your wife gave that…that…filth to my sister?!

GATEWAY: *cackles* Sir Wallace, you rascal! *lets out a low whistle and shakes his head* I suppose it’s true what they say, it’s always the quiet ones who are the biggest scoundrels. *stands and claps Sir Wallace on the shoulder* Since Rose is gesturing for me to get my arse out, I will go, but Sir Wallace, I’d be honored if you’d take my seat over in the Scandalous Series section. I do believe you having a naughty book has entitled you to a seat with the other debauchers. *bows* I shall take my leave now, I had no idea I was in such depraved company.

ALEX: *Scrubs hands over his face.* The image that is now in my head isn’t going away.

MARCUS: You’ll get over it. I do recall spotting a copy of it in your library. Need I remind you that you are married to my cousin?

ALEX: Point taken. Patrick, I think it’s your turn.

PATRICK “DRAKE”, LORD DRAKELY—HERO FROM HER SECONDHAND GROOM: I willingly admit that I made a few mistakes with Juliet, my heroine, but I’d like to think I redeemed myself during our trip to London. Also, if it weren’t for me, poor Simon over there would have never had his happily-ever-after. So in a way, I’m a HERO FROM two books.

ANDREW to ALEX: I think he’s been spending too much with Gateway, he’s getting a swell head.

ALEX back to ANDREW: That or with his wife and now he thinks he’s as good of a matchmaker as all those of her sex think they are.

PATRICK: I hate to tell you two weasels this, but Brooke and Caroline both think they’re some sort of skilled matchmakers, too.

All right, fellas, let’s stay on course. Sir Wallace?

SIR WALLACE BENEDICT—HERO FROM HER IMPERFECT GROOM: 1. Contrary to my book title, I am undeniably a perfectionist. 2. Unlike some of the others in this room, when scandal knocked on my door, I was ready to do the right thing. 3. Despite my love for being impeccably dressed and as proper as a straight pin as Rose put it, when love was on the line, I put my own wants aside and chased her down at all costs.

ALEX: Chased her down? No you scaled the side of my house and broke into her room.

SEBASTIAN—HERO FROM SECRETS OF A VISCOUNT: There is nothing wrong with that.

ALEX: There is when she didn’t invite him to do so.

SEBASTIAN: *face flushing, shrugs* Again, I don’t find anything wrong with it if he gets the girl in the end.

SIR WALLACE: I did. *pushes chest out* And an enlightening little treatise to boot.

ALEX: Agggghhhh.

Let’s move on to the heroes of the Brides Series. Edward?

EDWARD BANKS, LORD WATSON—HERO FROM HER CONTRACT BRIDE-: Oh? I get to enter the running, do I? I wasn’t sure if I’d get that honor since I’m the only one Rose killed off! I think that means I should forever be memorialized as the most beloved. Oh, is that too morbid? All right, I think ultimately I should be the most beloved hero because I’m the one responsible for building the stargazing gazebo that brought about at least two happily-ever-afters. If it weren’t for me being friends with the late Lord Sinclair, Alex wouldn’t have met Caroline—

ALEX: Or have been engaged to Lady Olivia.

EDWARD: Yes, as I mentioned before, I was lost in celebration that night. Believe me, there was a lot of celebrating. Joseph was finally free from having to visit Bea’s bed and the wine just kept flowing… *waves a hand through the air* Not to mention, I fixed things between Alex and Caro by reminding her that he’s a man. If it weren’t for me and Regina, Alex, Elijah, Henry and Edwina wouldn’t be here and I would have never been born and John wouldn’t have gone to America to meet his wife. And…finally, if it weren’t for me, Andrew wouldn’t have inherited such a beautiful painting.

ANDREW: Thank you. I’m still cherishing it.

JOHN BANKS—HERO FROM HIS YANKEE BRIDE: All right, Edward, we get that you’re making up for lost time of not getting any scenes in three of your four children’s books, but enough is enough. Besides, I know the true identity of that “artist”. Not to mention, you allowed your heroine to sink the Gallant…

EDWARD: She looked so fetching as the boat went down, I’d have allowed her to sink a whole armada had I had one.

All right, gentlemen, we have a lot more to hear from–

EDWARD: No we don’t, I’m the most beloved. *grins* They need not even speak.

JOHN: Now who has been spending too much time with Gateway?

John, it’s you’re turn.

JOHN: As hero to Carolina I have faithfully done my duty and played countless games of charades. I stood up to her beastly parents and rescued her closest confidant. I endured being sewn into a bundling bag, being watched shamelessly on while bathing in the pond, had to bear witness to a dirty, old merkin lying in the street while eloping, and in the end, swept my girl away from her parent’s evil clutches and eventually brought her and my three daughters to London where all of Rose’s stories began.

EDWARD: You’re rather smug, aren’t you, Trouble?

JOHN: *shrugs* The boot fits.

All right you two, nearly two hundred and fifty years later and you two are squabbling like little boys.

EDWARD: We’re brother’s, that’s what we’re supposed to do.

And now, for another set of Banks Brothers—Elijah?

ELIJAH BANKS—HERO FROM HIS JILTED BRIDE: *squares shoulders and slowly looks around the room* Fellas, you can all go home. This victory is mine. You all might think you rescued your heroines, but I—*points at chest*–I did. I not only saved her from being married to a scheming, lying, reprobate who likely would have done unmentionable things to her person, but I did it by shimmying her through a church window in her wedding gown, no less. *chuckles* And no more, either.

HENRY BANKS—ELIJAH’S TWIN AND HERO FROM HIS BROTHER’S BRIDE: What Elijah neglected to mention was said man hadn’t even shown up yet. So how exactly he spared her such a life… *shakes head* Can anyone truly be certain?

ELIJAH: Right you are, Henry. I was also rescuing her from the humiliation of being jilted. I thought that was implied by the title. And just because he hadn’t shown up yet that day, didn’t mean he didn’t still have plans for her.

HENRY: That’s true, however, had you not married her and just brought her to safety, you’d have been able to fulfill an earlier promise you’d made.

ELIJAH: Oh, you mean I’d have married Laura—YOUR wife? *cocks head to the side* If what I spied in the garden is any indication, I think you ought to be thanking me.

HENRY: Indeed.

ELIJAH: My thanks?

HENRY: *stares at him* I’ll refrain from singing carols at Michaelmas this year.

ELIJAH: That’s even better.

Throws hand up. Henry, it’s your turn.

HENRY: *rubs chin* As I just mentioned I did marry the young lady Elijah had promised marriage to. And I don’t regret it. I did first try to find her another suitable husband because what else can you do when a woman you barely knows shows up on your front door stoop and demands marriage? If rescuing heroines is the key to winning, I should say that I rescued mine from herself when she was spitting out phrases in French that she didn’t know the meaning of. And finally, I do believe, I exercised perfect self-control in the carriage while taking my—not my brother’s *scowls*—bride to Scotland.

ELIJAH: And on the way back?

HENRY: Is none of your damn business.

EDWARD: That’s my boy.

JOHN: Only you would be proud.

EDWARD: Had your wife produced a boy, you’d understand. As it is your girls—

JOHN: Are the most scandalous sisters to ever step foot in London, yes, I know.

EDWARD: I was going ot say saints, but your definition works, too.

All right, we need to–

GATEWAY: *pokes his head in the room* Are you hens still clucking? You all know I won this competition before it even started.

ANDREW: Only if you’ve been out there rigging the votes… *arches eyebrow*

MARCUS: Besides, I think you’d do well to spend a little more time around Alex and allow him to explain to you the difference between hens and roosters.

GATEWAY: I can borrow Sir Wallace’s naughty book for that, I’m sure.

Gateway, come join us again. Apparently, without you making inane and unsolicited comments everyone else feels they need to.

GATEWAY–*lumbers in and falls into a vacant chair* Ah, to be the scapegoat.

Now, let’s switch gears and hear from our American heroes—Wes, are you ready?

CAPTAIN WES TUCKER—HERO FROM THE OFFICER AND THE BOSTONER: About as ready as I was for a spirited and slightly angry young lady to come parading into my life, throwing rocks and making impossible demands.

2ND LIEUTENANT JACK—HERO FROM THE OFFICER AND THE SOUTHERNER: Sounds to me like you’re complaining.

CAPTAIN GRAY—HERO FROM THE OFFICER AND THE TRAVELER: Which you certainly weren’t doing when she came. I do believe you went around whistling a merry little tune as you packed your things and strutted up to your new bedchamber in the married officers wing of the barracks.

WES: Indeed I was. But keep in mind, I managed to keep Allison safe from harm of the other men and from herself with a sewing needle. I used her excellent throw to all of our advantage and taught her how to swing a bat—she can now best even the best in rounders.

JACK: Yes, that all sounds so exciting, lest we forget your book isn’t a shoot’em up.

GRAY: No, that was saved for your book. Would you care to share with everyone just exactly what went on at the shooting range that day?

JACK: That was a private moment between Ella and me.

*laughter from around the room.*

EDWARD: Good for you, young man.

Jack, why should you be most beloved hero?

JACK: I certainly went through some of the worst—sent off for a mail-order bride and received a young lady who was angry with me from the start. *face reddens* For which I do take full responsibility. Nearly lost my heroine to a spider. Had to ride a horse with a man who wore little more than an eyepatch over his…unmentionables, sat in the tent of a naked and half-crazed medicine man—and that was only the first half of my tale. As Gray mentioned, I taught my girl how to shoot…*face turns crimson and coughing ensues* and gave her another sort of education as well.

GRAY: *voice dripping with sarcasm* And now, I’ll never be able to shoot at the range again without that thought. Thank you.

JACK: *grins* You’re welcome.

GATEWAY: Would you like me to ruin a few places in England for you?

EVERYONE: NO!

GATEWAY: *chuckles* Pray continue.

Gray, you’re turn.

GRAY: I do believe I am the most beloved. I had a rekindled romance with a woman I was once forbidden to talk to and because I kissed her–

JACK: Should you remind everyone why you were kissing her?

GRAY: *ignoring Jack, continues*–we were married and I inherited a dragon for a father-in-law.

JACK: *snorts* I have the same father-in-law!

WES: Yes, and thanks to the two of you, he’s now the general at our fort.

JACK: It’s not my fault. I didn’t know Ella’s father was a grumpy old general when I started writing to her. Hell, even Gray didn’t recognize Ella when she first came.

GRAY: And if I had, would you have sent her back?

JACK: Well, no.

GRAY: Then it seems you should stop your complaining about the old dragon.

WES: And you should, too. You both chose to be connected to him. I did not.

GRAY: As I said, if Jack had known any more about Ella’s identity it could have been avoided.

WES: Yes, but then you wouldn’t have had your wife.

GRAY: No, I wouldn’t have–*eyes crinkle and a broad grin takes his lips* and dealing with her cantankerous father is a small price to pay to have her.

Gray, is that all you have to say?

GRAY: No, I have plenty to say if these two would shut up for two minutes. I married a woman who had no reservations in her dislike for me. As has been mentioned, her father didn’t like me either. But even so, she managed to win me over and I daresay, I won both of them over, too.

JACK: That’s the best you could come up with?

GRAY: Yep, I’m Michaela’s all-time favorite hero. I don’t need to be anyone else’s.

*silence fills the room…until broken by none other than GATEWAY* Ah, spoken like a men letting his privates doing the thinking for him—and not the hundred men you command.

GRAY: *shrugs* Her opinion is the only one I value.

That’s very sweet, so then should we stop this competition now and let you all get back to your respective heroines?

SEBASTIAN GENTRY, LORD BELGRAVE—HERO FROM SECRETS OF A VISCOUNT: Hell no. I did not break into the wrong sister’s bedroom and hie my worst nightmare off to Scotland, marry her, lie to her, diligently try to find her another husband while secretly longing for her and praying she wouldn’t wind up with Stoic Simon just to give up now. I love Belle more than life itself, but by golly, I’m the most beloved hero—I’ve even won an award.

Your book isn’t the only one to be nominated for an award, Sebastian, (gracious this man needs to be taken down a peg), Patrick, Edward and John have been finalists, too.

SEBASTIAN: Ah, but they all came in second. I won. And a reader’s choice, nomination style entry no less.

EDWARD: Not true. I won some something or other once, too.

SEBASTIAN: Nobody seems to remember that. Not even the contest officials when it was time to publicly reveal the winners. But me? Oh, they made up this huge poster of my book. The thing was so big, Rose couldn’t get it back home from the conference. A local friend—and saint—kept it at her house for almost two and a half years until a mutual friend happened to be driving across the US and brought it to Rose. See, it’s right here!

Exhibit A

GATEWAY: I think I’ve found my match for most conceited.

SEBASTIAN: Exactly, the Gateway Era is over and the Sebastian Era has begun.

SIMON APPLETON—HERO FROM PASSIONS OF A GENTLEMAN: I still can’t believe Isabelle chose this for herself.

HENRY: Ha, if awards were given out for which hero made Rose bang her head against the desk most while writing their book, Elijah would win handidly.

SEBASTIAN: And Simon would win for most re-starts.

JACK: Gray would be a close second for that one.

Hey now! Stop airing MY dirty laundry. Giles, are you ready?

GILES GODDARD—HERO FROM DESIRES OF A BARON: I don’t need this award. I married Lucy a woman who loves me no matter what I say and do. With Lucy came Seth. The boy asks me uncomfortable questions about the origins of babies, when unsightly hair will appear, and now calls me Papa. I already have my reward.

SIMON: And don’t forget a brother.

GILES: How could I? You’re the reason I was questioned about the appearance of body hair.

SIMON: And the reason you met Lucy.

GILES: Yes, it was because of you we met, but you certainly didn’t have any intentions of backing down.

SIMON: I’d met her first.

GILES: And it was obvious that she didn’t return your interest. At least it was obvious when I read the book—living it was a different matter.

All right—again, more bickering brothers! Simon, you’ll have your turn in a bit–

SIMON: Of course I will. I already had to wait two years to get my book, why not wait longer to have my turn to speak.

In order of heroes, I think Gareth is next.

GARETH, LORD WORTHE—HERO FROM THE PERFECT LADY WORTHE: As many of the others have said, I already feel like I’ve won because I was blessed to have such a wonderful heroine to spend the rest of this life with. But…since Rose is twisting our arms for these speeches, I will say that I am indeed gentlemanly and clever. I was the HERO FROM her first novella who apparently knows exactly how much is in my bank account and takes abbreviated naps throughout the day. Not to mention, I married my best friend’s younger sister against his wishes, that’s pretty damn brazen and heroic, if you ask me.

GATEWAY: Twisted your arm? Hmmph.

Aaron, your turn.

AARON LENTZ, HERO FROM MISTLETOE & MICHAELMAS: I had to endure a Christmastide stay with the straightforward Duke of Danby. The man is so obsessed with matchmaking, I went to his house as part of my duty as a vicar and less than a fortnight later I was in need of one myself. Also, for the record, it should be mentioned, my name wasn’t always Aaron. I was given that name the afternoon the book was submitted because another story in the anthology had a hero with the same name. How is that for enduring?

JOHN: I wondered how you ended up with what was originally my name.

I confess, I confess! Aaron is telling the truth. His name was different when I wrote the book and I had to change it. John is also correct—his name originally was Aaron. But when I was typing Aaron, my fingers were moving so fast I’d capitalize both As. Plus, Intentions of the Earl didn’t need anyone else with an “A” name. Now, let’s move onto our next hero: Joel.

JOEL CUNNINGHAM—HERO FROM JESSE: BRIDE OF SOUTH CAROLINA: What can I say? I was commissioned to bring the girl I’d once loved more than life itself one hundred miles in my wagon to a train depot so she could go off to the wilds of Montana and marry Mr. Perfect—which couldn’t have been too perfect or he wouldn’t have submitted an ad for a mail-order bride. I kept my hands to myself—most of the time, my trousers buttoned up—a blasted hard thing to do at times and reined in my sarcasm–

No you did not!

JOEL: And no you did not have this book done by Oct. 26, 2015 like you were supposed and yet you still told everyone you had. If I remember right you were only 1,000 words in.

What has that to do with anything?

JOEL: Nothing, other than I was the perfect hero to write about. If I hadn’t been so easy to write about you wouldn’t have gotten this book done in under a week.

GATEWAY: Dang! Here I thought my book was the fastest at ten days.

JOEL: No, mine took less time but after meeting you today, I see why yours took so long. You’re a fountain of fodder.

GATEWAY: Thank you. I enjoy being complimented.

JOEL: Yes, and so does my wife. Who, I’ll have you all know I managed to win over on that trip despite fear of her father catching us, being robbed, having to sleep outside, meeting a deranged man who loves his junk more than Andrew and Gateway hate each other and more sarcastic remarks than have been shared here today.

You are correct, Joel. On all scores. James?

JAMES NORTH, EARL OF WYNN—HERO FROM THE WOOING GAME: I daresay this award is in the bag for me. Charlotte and I had a nasty first start. Blooming humiliating all the way around if I dare say. However, I managed to win her—even woo her—and all by sending her anonymous letters of admiration, a feat not even the notorious Banks men—or heroes of the Banks women–could pull off.

GARETH: The first missive you sent her, wasn’t so anonymous….or charming.

JAMES: Shhh! I made a mistake. You’ve made one I’m sure.

GARETH: Never.

SIMON: Is it my turn yet? Have I waited long enough?

Yes, Simon, you can go now.

SEBASTIAN: I don’t know why you’re bothering to, I’m sure everyone has already decided.

GATEWAY: Yes, they only needed to hear the first three.

ANDREW: Nope. Just the first one.

SIMON: Well, aren’t you both rather cocksure? Haven’t you ever heard of “saving the best for last”? My book was “in the works” for two blasted YEARS. Rose received emails inquiring when it was coming out. People asking why they couldn’t find it. She even received a very nasty email about tying her to a chair and making her write it. I daresay, if the emails are to be believed, I would consider this contest already over. Name me the winner and hand me my crown.

SEBASTIAN: Just because they asked about you and demanded she write your book doesn’t mean they liked it. Heck, if sales reports are any indication, I’d honestly say your book is the least read book Rose has written!

SIMON: That’s because everyone read your book and hated you so much they didn’t want to risk reading the others in the series for fear of encountering you again.

SEBASTIAN: Again, may I point your direction to Exhibit A?

All righty then, I think we’re done.

GATEWAY: No closing remarks?

No, you’ve all said more than enough already. All right ladies, you’ve heard what they have to say and tomorrow—on National Election Day—you can cast your vote for your favorite Rose Gordon Hero on Facebook. Please read over this as many times as you feel are necessary and share with your friends who might like to vote.

From just outside the window of my living room where everyone had gathered…GABRIEL ELLIS—FUTURE HERO FROM HIS PENNILESS BRIDE: Damn. She’s been receiving emails about the whereabouts of my story for four years—that’s before more than half of these fellas were heroes—I now have another four years to get my story, read all of their books to dig up the most gossip and I’ll be an easy win next go-around.

Ah, Gabriel, you forget…since your story hasn’t yet been written, you could be the most scandalous of them all!

GABRIEL: Marjorie! Let’s run away. Now!

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Wicked Wednesday ~ His Jilted Bride

Today’s post is “wicked” in a different sort of way. Elijah plays a wicked trick on Amelia which then leads to another activity that I wouldn’t be so vulgar as to post here!

A little set up, earlier that morning Amelia asks Elijah to be a dear and get rid of Mr. Henry Hirsute, his pet tarantula. Of course Elijah doesn’t wish to comply and they reach a compromise that Mr. Henry Hirsute will move from their bedroom to the parlor area and now Amelia and Elijah have just returned from a day out…

The picnic was wonderful with the tall shade tree, the cool water covering them to their ankles, the gentle breeze, the delicious food, and most importantly the company. Three days ago, she’d have never imagined they could be both friends and lovers. But last night had certainly changed her opinion of that. Her skin grew warm just thinking about it. Perhaps when they got inside, he’d hold up his earlier promise of ‘later’.

Or perhaps not.

“Elijah, why isn’t the glass on Mr. Henry Hirsute’s cage?” she nearly shrieked, on the verge of hysterics as she entered the little cabin where they were staying.

“I didn’t know it wasn’t.” Elijah stepped around her and went to the cage. “Damn,” he muttered.

“Damn? Damn what? What are you damning, Elijah?”

He shot her his best smile. “It would appear Mr. Henry Hirsute has decided to go on another travel adventure.”

Amelia shrieked. She didn’t give a hang if that made her a ninny. There was a fuzzy spider on the loose, and it could be anywhere! Screaming like a madwoman, she ran through the cabin to jump on the bed, stepping only on her tiptoes as she went. She wasn’t going to put her whole foot on the floor until Mr. Henry Hirsute was back in his prison cell.

“You think being on the bed will keep you safe?”

Amelia shivered. “It won’t?”

Elijah shrugged lazily. “I don’t see why it would. He can crawl up just as easily as he can crawl across a flat surface.”

Amelia jumped to her feet. “Elijah, I swear if I see that filthy scoundrel, I’ll kill him.”

Elijah chuckled and peered behind the bureau then under the wardrobe. “Must you call him a scoundrel? It’s not as if he’s the greatest debaucher in all of England.”

“No,” she said with a sniff. “He’s worse.”

Shaking his head, Elijah lifted the overhanging bedsheets and searched underneath them for his errant pet.

“Why did you have to keep him?” Amelia asked again.

Elijah frowned. “I couldn’t let him die, could I?”

“No, but you could have at least let his namesake adopt him.”

“You’re in a rather humorous mood today, aren’t you?” He lifted one of the bed pillows and looked underneath.

Amelia’s skin crawled. If that dratted menace had shed even one hair in this bed, she’d be taking up residence in the main house. “Why can’t you give him to Henry?”

Elijah heaved the loudest sigh she’d ever heard. “I don’t think that’s wise. What with how upset he was when Mr. Fuzzinelli died.”

“And just who was Mr. Fuzzinelli,” she asked though she doubted she really wanted to know.

Elijah placed his hands around her ankles, searing her skin straight through her stockings. “A distant relative of Mr. Henry Hirsute’s.”

“Enough said.” She darted her gaze around the room to see if she spotted the soon-to-be dead visitor. “Why did you name him after your brother, anyway?” she asked, hoping conversation would distract her enough to calm her nerves.

“I thought to name him Harry Hirsute, but that seemed too redundant because hirsute already means hairy, So naming him Harry Hirsute seemed to put too much pressure on him to keep his hair. What if he were to start losing it?” He shook his head, his eyes wide as if he were feigning some sort of great outrage. “Besides, Harry by itself is just too popular of a name.”

“Yes, because everyone names their pet tarantula Harry,” she said on the verge of hysteria again. She hadn’t spotted the vile creature anywhere which left two options: one, it was in the common room, or two, it was hiding and waiting to make its grand reappearance later—most likely at a time when Elijah wouldn’t be present. “Elijah, I’m telling you now, if I see Mr. Henry Hirsute and he’s not in his box, his new name will be Mr. Elijah Expired.”

“All right, but that means you have to come down here and help me look.”

Just then, something touched her calf and she squealed like the little ninny Elijah and Henry used to claim her to be. “Something touched me! Mr. Elijah Expired just crawled on my calf!”

“Hmm, I guess I’ll have to look into that for you,” Elijah said cool as can be, slowly lifting her skirt. He handed her the fabric to hold and slowly skimmed his hands up her calves, his eyes never leaving hers.

Were the circumstances any different, she’d melt into a boneless heap at his touch. He slowly rolled down the top of her stocking, then leaned forward and placed a kiss just behind her knee. “Elijah, now isn’t the time,” she choked. “Mr. Elijah Expired touched me. You have to find him now.”

“Yes, Mr. Elijah touched you,” he agreed, caressing her calves. “Mr. Elijah Banks, that is. Your friend Mr. Henry Hirsute has been safely curled up in the bottom of his box this whole time. I must not have shut the glass all the way, but he never got out.”

All the muscles in her body relaxed. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

“I’d planned to.” He moved his hands up to rub her thighs, inching ever closer to where she ached to have him most. “But when I saw you stand up on the bed like this, I decided not to miss the chance to do this.” Just then, two of his strong fingers pressed against the sensitive flesh between her legs in the most delicious way.

She released her hold on her skirt and her hands flew to his shoulders for balance as his probing fingers continued their exploration, now adding a third to the fray. Her knees buckled and his strong hands moved to catch her.

“Lie down.”

Sample Sunday ~ His Jilted Bride

This week, we’ll start the second half of the Banks Brothers’ Brides with His Jilted Bride.

The stars of this book is Elijah Banks as the hero and Amelia Bryce as the heroine.

A little set up on this scene: Amelia has found herself embroiled in a scandal and as a result, she’s being forced to marry Hiram, Lord Friar. Only he doesn’t show up for the wedding so in rushes our dashing hero who does what any Banks man would do: offers to marry her to save her from any further humiliation.

Elijah Banks clenched his hands into twin fists and willed himself to stay seated.

He shifted on the hard bench and took a deep, calming breath. It had only been forty minutes. Lord Friar could still arrive.

The silence that filled the room seemed louder than the crowds who gathered each night at Vauxhall.

Or mayhap that was just the steady tattoo of his blood pounding in his ears.

“Would you relax?” his twin Henry whispered. “It’s not your wedding.”

And what a pity that was. For as much as he’d denied the possibility to his father when he was younger, he’d gone and fallen in love with Lady Amelia Brice. And desperately wished it was his wedding today. “It might not be my wedding, but she is my friend.”

“Do you think he woke up this morning and realized he was about to marry a spinster?” one of the ladies sitting in the pew behind him asked with a slight giggle.

Elijah bridled at her remark. Amelia might be four-and-twenty, but she wasn’t what he’d consider a spinster. Besides, if anyone was getting the bad end of this bargain, it was Amelia. At least she was young and attractive. Hiram, Lord Friar was older than her father; and though Elijah had never actually seen the man, as he mixed in circles that even Elijah wasn’t welcome in, the man’s reputation of being one of the worst sort of no-good, lecherous scoundrel preceded him.

Henry lifted his eyebrows at him and Elijah jerked his gaze away. In a moment such as this, he wished he wasn’t a twin. For as odd as it might seem to others, he and Henry had the ability to finish each other’s thoughts and sentences with no difficulty, and with something as simple as an exchanged look, they could communicate every thought and feeling they had to the other. And right now, he didn’t want his twin to know a single thing that was racing through his mind.

“Only five more minutes, then I can claim my winnings,” another lady said behind him.

The hair on the back of Elijah’s neck stood on end. What was she talking about?

He was saved from asking when one of the lady’s companions inquired.

“Nothing you’d be interested in, Griselda,” the woman said archly. “Just a little wagering.”

“You placed a wager on the wedding today?” the lady who must have been Griselda said in shock.

“Perhaps.”

A little sputter of laughter passed one’s lips and Elijah’s temper flared. Amelia had been his friend as long as he could remember and he’d be damned if he’d continue to sit idle while she was mocked behind her back.

He shoved to his feet. “Excuse me,” he murmured, pushing his way down the pew and to the aisle, where he dodged a multitude of curious looks on his way to the back of the sanctuary.

Closing the large oak door behind him, he exhaled and swallowed. He could do this. He needed to do this. He owed it to Amelia.

Chancing a look down both sides of the hall to make sure her father or brother weren’t stirring about, he knocked softly at the door to her bridal chamber. “Amelia?”

No answer.

He twisted his lips and considered knocking again, then dismissed the idea. She was in there, he was certain of it. Quiet so not to startle or upset her, he turned the knob and opened the door.

“Amelia,” he said, uncertain if his word was a question or a statement as his eyes fell over her quiet form.

She half sat, half lay on a floral settee that blended into the equally flowery wallpaper, wearing one of the fluffiest dresses he’d ever seen. Her shawl lay in a little pile of white silk next to her, which was exactly where it should be, not draped around her, covering up her delicate shoulders or the tops of her luscious breasts. He swallowed. She’d always been a beautiful young lady, but just now she was absolutely breathtaking as she sat there and idly twirled a fallen lock of her silky, dark brown hair.

He found an empty chair from across the room and pulled it over to her so he could sit beside her. At least when they were both sitting, the height difference between her petite five foot frame and his towering five foot-eleven didn’t seem so noticeable; and that was much the way he preferred it: equal.

“I should have known he’d do something like this,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Elijah whispered just as softly as she’d spoken.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault he jilted me at the altar.”

No, but it is my good fortune, because now I won’t even have to halt a wedding and pray your answer will be yes. He shoved the thought from his mind. If she truly wanted to marry Lord Friar, he’d have stepped aside and blamed himself for taking too long to tell her how he felt. But since he knew as well as she did that a match between Amelia and Lord Friar would be the equivalent of a death sentence, he’d come today to make one last appeal. Not to her father, to her. Fortunately, Lord Friar’s absence had afforded him an opportunity to offer her marriage without the same risk of scandal or rejection.

He hated the bitter taste that word put in his mouth, but it didn’t change the truth of it. Amelia was no longer the simpering miss she’d once been around him, talking of love and marriage to him. Instead, she seemed guarded around him and spoke as if those sorts of feelings no longer existed.

“Nobody has to know he jilted you,” he said, reaching forward to push the hair sweeping across her forehead behind her ear.

She shook her head; her grey eyes shining with unshed tears. “They already do.”

“No,” he corrected. “All they know for sure is a wedding is not currently taking place. What they don’t know is if it was the groom who jilted the bride or the bride who jilted the groom.”

Amelia eyed him curiously. “No, I’m fairly certain they all know it was the groom who jilted the bride. My mother and father are both out there.”

“Yes, and they are doing a wonderful job acting as if they’re waiting for their daughter’s wedding to take place.”

“Acting?” she said, her eyes narrowing in on him.

“Acting,” he confirmed. “See, your mother is sitting in her pew, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief while your father is pacing a hole in the wooden platform just outside the front door of the church. Both are playing their roles perfectly, giving off the illusion to the rest of the guests that they are just waiting for the wedding to begin any moment.”

“Which seems to be less likely to happen as the minutes pass.”

“Exactly,” Elijah agreed. “Which is why you need to act now before someone discovers your game.”

“My game?”

He nodded once. “Yes, madam, your game.” He picked up her petite hand and wrapped his fingers around it. “I’m not as dimwitted as the rest of them. I see what’s really going on here.”

“At least you do, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He ignored her. “I almost fell for it, too.”

“Fell for what?” she burst out in hysteria, presumably due to her current situation, lacing her voice.

“You’re jilting your groom,” he said evenly, meeting her eyes.

A shadow crossed her face and she cleared her throat. Twice. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just merely making mention of the fact that the wedding has yet to begin, and both the bride and the groom have yet to be seen. How does a guest such as myself truly know whether it was the bride or the groom who didn’t come today? How do I—a random guest—know that the bride and groom were not so in love with the other they could hardly wait another day and decided to elope?”

She snorted.

“All right, well, perhaps that scenario isn’t very believable, but the other very well could be possible.” He took a deep breath. “Amelia, listen to me, I know you’re a very strong young lady and you come from a very important family; but none of that will matter come tomorrow when this is all over the scandal sheets.”

“I know,” she said with a swallow.

“Then see the sense in what I’m saying and marry me.”

***

Amelia’s jaw would have hit the end table next to the settee had she had the mouth of an ostrich. Elijah Banks was offering her marriage as a way to escape a scandal?

“Elijah, you don’t have to do this.”

He laughed at her weak protest. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

“Why? To make amends for dumping a bucket of cold water on me after I told your father that you wouldn’t let me ride your mare?”

“No, nor is it because I feel bad about volunteering you to sing during the reception at Edwina’s wedding.”

“I knew it was you, you scoundrel!” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

He grinned at her outburst. “What do you say, Amelia? Will you be my wife?”

Had his question been asked because he loved her, she’d have dissolved into a watering pot on the spot. But it wasn’t. Well, perhaps it was, but not love born of a romantic feeling; but rather that of a friend. A pang of sadness pierced her heart. Elijah was the only gentleman she’d ever wanted to marry. Since she was a young girl running around his parents’ estate when spending summers with her aunt and uncle, she’d fancied herself in love with Elijah. He was the reason she’d turned away any gentlemen who wished to court her, hoping one day he’d see her as more than a friend. How unfortunate he never saw fit to feel the same for her.

She bit her lip. Hard. She needed to put that thought out of her mind immediately. If she let emotions get in the way and didn’t take him up on his offer, she’d forever face a life of shame. But what of her other problem? The one that made this hasty marriage necessary. It had only been two weeks and she still didn’t know whether she carried a life inside of her yet. A lump formed in her throat. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

Amelia blinked back her tears. “Elijah, I cannot marry you and condemn you to—”

“Nonsense,” he cut in. “Amelia, if I didn’t want to be here right now, I wouldn’t be. You know that. No amount of goading and threatening can make me do something I don’t want to do. I want to help you. You’re my friend.”

She inwardly flinched at his confirmation: she was just a friend. She knew that of course, he’d told her for years he was only her friend and had even gone so far as to help her find another gentleman to give her attentions to. Gently, of course. He’d never been cruel about her feelings or dismissive of her as a person, just the sincerity of a young girl’s feelings. But try as she might, she couldn’t fall out of love as easily as she’d fallen in. Only now, she didn’t dare let him or anyone know the truth. He wanted to be her friend and that’d have to be good enough. “But what if I have a secret?” she challenged.

He pulled a face that reminded her of his late father. “It’s not that you’re genuinely in love with Lord Friar, is it?”

“Most certainly not! It has nothing to do with him.” At least it had better not. She’d still yet to determine the identity of the masked stranger, and for all she knew it could have been Lord Friar. Her stomach lurched at the wretched thought. “It’s something else.”

Elijah’s gloved fingers tilted her face up toward his. “As long as it’s not that, I don’t care what it is. Now, what do you say?”

A lead weight lowered on her chest. He might say he didn’t care about her secret, but how would he feel in nine months when she presented him with a child that wasn’t his? Or even sooner when he went to take her innocence only to discover it was already gone?

His deep sigh pulled her from her thoughts. “You’d be doing me a favor, wouldn’t you know?”

How could she be doing him a favor? “How so?”

“Now that Weenie and Alex have both married, Mother has nobody to play matchmaker for except me and Henry, and if I’m married…that only leaves Henry.”

Amelia nearly laughed. “Your mother doesn’t play matchmaker, Elijah.” She played the role of confidant and voice of sanity to perfection, but never once had Amelia caught Regina Banks, the dowager baroness, playing matchmaker.

“Just because she hasn’t yet, doesn’t mean she doesn’t intend to,” Elijah pointed out. “She and my Aunt Carolina have been spending a lot of time together recently. And there is nothing that can stop thatwoman when she takes a notion into her mind. So what do you say? Will you spare me the unpleasant fate that would befall me otherwise?”

“All right, but only if you promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“No matter what happens, you won’t regret this?”

Elijah grinned and shook his head. “I accept your condition. Now we just have to sneak you out of here.” He walked over to a window and opened it just far enough to poke his head out. “Perfect.” He pushed open the window as far as it would go and motioned for her to come over. “All right, I’ll climb out first and then help pull you through.”

She cast him a tentative glance. “Is that really necessary?”

He stared at her as if she’d just asked the stupidest question ever. “Do you know another way to get out of here without being seen?”

“No.” But that still didn’t mean she wanted to climb out a window.

“Don’t worry, Amelia. I’ll be right there to help you.”

“Wonderful,” she muttered as he threw his left leg over the window sill, then his right.

He jumped down and took a step back. “All right, Amelia, let’s see those superb leaping skills you used to boast about having.”

Had she a heavy object at her disposal—and not been in the middle of escaping what was sure to be the scandal of the season—she’d have brained him right then and there. With as much grace as her heavy satin gown would allow, she made her way to the window, pulled her skirt up as far as she could, and then threw one stocking-clad leg over the windowsill.

And that’s as far as she got.

Between the heavy skirts and the voluminous petticoats underneath them, she couldn’t move.

“Elijah, help me. I think my skirt is stuck.”

He grinned at her.

“Elijah, why are you just standing there?”

“Just admiring the view,” he said with a wink.

“Elijah!” She gave her dress a hearty yank, but it would seem her iron hoop stays were too wide to go through the window. “You can gawk all you want later. Just help me out.”

“Promises, promises,” he muttered, coming up to her.

If she honestly thought he was genuinely interested in seeing her naked body, she’d be flattered by his staring and excited by his statement. But she knew better. He was just enjoying the fact she was stuck in the window!

He walked over toward her and reached his hands up inside her skirt to find the ties that would release her stays. The bare skin of her thighs burned at the feeling of his gloved hands brushing them.

“Just cut them,” she blurted.

“Are you sure?”

She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. “Yes. I have no idea why my mother insisted I wear these hoops anyway, they’re nearly twenty years past fashion.”

“All right, I’ll cut them. Step back into the room and lift your skirt.”

“How charming,” she said under her breath.

“I try,” he said with a smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his penknife. “Ready?”

She nodded as nervous excitement coursed through her. It was bad enough she’d been jilted today. It’d be even more awkward if someone were to enter the room at this very moment and see her holding her heavy skirts up so Elijah Banks could reach in through the window and cut her stays away. If her bridegroom not showing up wasn’t enough to make her a laughingstock already, this particular situation would get her name whispered behind fans for generations.

The sharp sound of cloth—not just any cloth, but the cloth under her gown—being torn sent chills up her spine. Chills of excitement or danger or uncertainty, she might never really know.

“Turn,” Elijah commanded.

She turned and he continued cutting the fabric until suddenly the sound of fabric-covered metal hitting the wooden floor floated to her ears.

Elijah put his knife away and then reached up toward her. “Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, she leaned out the window, wrapped her arms around Elijah’s neck and let him pull her out of the church and away from the public shame and embarrassment she’d be condemned to as a jilted bride.

Which Book is WHOSE???

Two years ago, I never really anticipated this, but being emailed every few days to inquire about a reading order, really isn’t a bad thing. However, I wanted to post this here for those who are wondering, so they don’t have to wait on my response.

First, I should mention that The Officer Series isn’t really connected to my other books so they can be read first or last, it doesn’t really matter.

Now, for the others, I’d strongly suggest to read them in the order I wrote and published them. Why? Because though two of them are prequels, I was able to write in events/activities that are described in the earlier books without any sort of explanation other than “that’s just the way it is/was.”

So if you’re new to me, I’d suggest you read them like this:


SCANDALOUS SISTERS SERIES (First)

Intentions of the Earl

Liberty for Paul

To Win His Wayward Wife

 

GROOM SERIES (Second)

Her Sudden Groom

Her Reluctant Groom

Her Secondhand Groom

Her Imperfect Groom

 

BANKS BROTHERS’ BRIDES (Third)

HIs Contract Bride

His Yankee Bride

His Jilted Bride

His Brother’s Bride

 

Now, if you are one who MUST read things in chronological order, I’d say to read them like this:

 

BANKS BROTHERS’ BRIDES

HIs Contract Bride

His Yankee Bride

 

SCANDALOUS SISTERS SERIES

Intentions of the Earl

Liberty for Paul

To Win His Wayward Wife

 

GROOM SERIES (Second)

Her Sudden Groom

Her Reluctant Groom

Her Secondhand Groom

Her Imperfect Groom

 

BANKS BROTHERS’ BRIDES

His Jilted Bride

His Brother’s Bride

 

His Contract Bride and His Yankee Bride are prequels that are about the parents of the siblings/cousins in the other books.

 

I know just listing it out doesn’t really “help” everyone, so if you’re more of a visual person, I’ve attempted to make a family tree as best I could on here.

BANKS FAMILY TREE!

Edward & Regina—His Contract Bride

Alex & Caroline Her Sudden Groom

Elijah & Amelia His Jilted Bride

Henry & Laura His Brother’s Bride

Edwina & Sir Wallace Her Imperfect Groom

John & Carolina—His Yankee Bride

Brooke & Andrew Intentions of the Earl

Madison & Benjamin To Win His Wayward Wife

Liberty & Paul Liberty for Paul

(Naturally born Banks family members are in bold. Also, I’d strongly suggest NOT reading them in this particular order, I write it out this way so you could see birth order.)

Two books that I’ve written that aren’t part of the Officer Series are NOT listed in this family tree–Her Reluctant Groom, which is about Alex’s friend Marcus. His parents, however, are witnessed in action in His Contract Bride. Also, Her Secondhand Groom is also not a “Banks book”. It’s about Marcus’ other friend–Patrick. When I first got the idea for the Groom Series, Marcus was to be the main “connection” between the heroes. They were both friends with him. But when I got Sudden and fell in love with Edward (and of course John threw a curveball at me when he mentioned that the circumstances surrounding his and Carolina’s marriage were not up for discussion), I decided I needed to write about them. This was also the case with the whacky Sir Wallace in Reluctant. I loved him INSTANTLY and knew almost immediately who would be the perfect heroine for this imperfect groom.

Clear as mud?

 

Updates!

Here are a few updates on what’s going on:

1. The Officer and the Bostoner is currently with Proofreader #2.

This morning, it came back from the first proofreader and after I accepted her changes and cough, cough made a few modifications to two parts, I sent it off to Proofreader #2. This is crucial as I alway seem to create two typos when fixing one. At this point, when it comes back the only thing I plan to do is fix the formatting. Then I’ll be done touching it.

It’s been a LONG time since I’ve had a book done and ready to go so early, however, I still plan for a late June/early July release. My goal is to have the next one in the series completed by June 30th and into editing in July for a late August/early September release. So putting them out two months apart, rather than three. I’m on track so far with more than 21,000 words. Yesterday, I wrote 3,700 in the book and today 3,200 (so far). So I’m doing good to reach that goal.

2. I’ve picked up another project…

Two years ago, I realized that I was going to have a significant time gap between my first series and my second, so I thought I should write a standalone to go in between the two. I got about 6,000 words in and abandoned ship. It was moving along at first, then completely stalled out. I didn’t  really have time to worry about it since my #1 priority was to get the Groom Series done (there were still only three of them to be written at the time, but only two were done…). After I added Edwina and Wallace’s book, I briefly opened this other up and thought it would be where I picked up. But I wasn’t feeling it, so I decided to do an American book. This is where the Officer series idea came in. I started on it and as you all know, things got in the way, so somewhere in the 15-18,000 word range, I put it away and started on the Banks Brothers’ Brides. Those are now done and out and I finished The Officer and the Bostoner, so on a whim, I opened this other back up and am writing it at the same time as The Officer and the Southerner.

We’ll see how it goes. My daily goal is 2,500 words for each story each day. In the morning, I write about America and in the afternoon, I’m back in England. The first one is a bit further into the story so the writing comes a little easier as I have things pretty well figured out by now. The other one is a little slower. So far I’ve met or come close to my word count goals. If things stay on schedule, this book could be done the first week of July… I caution you though, I’ve tried to write two books at once before and have ended up tossing one over in favor of another. Be warned.

If I’m able to finish them both about the same time, I’m thinking I’ll release them alternately: American, Regency, American, Regency, etc.

This book was originally set to be a standalone, but I’ve found a way to make it into a series, so I’ll probably do that with it. And if not, I guess I can always get halfway and bury it under my bed again. So…until I know without doubt that it won’t go back into storage on my computer, I’ve shied away from a synopsis or cover (that might also be because I cannot decide on a title, but shhh don’t tell anyone).

3. Her Sudden Groom will be my next audiobook. 

There was one final change that will be done this afternoon, then it will be under inspection and made into an Audiobook soon. Jilted will be after that, then Reluctant.

4. Something scandalous is going on…

For those wishing to get their hands on an early copy of The Officer and The Bostoner (or any future books), you might want to consider joining my Scandalous Sisters Street Team on Facebook where you share books and links or do other missions and win prizes. This has been in the early test stages for a while to get it rolling, but we’re now opening it up to more people. If you’d like to join or wish to know more, send an email to rose.gordon.author@gmail.com

The MOTHER of all things SCANDALOUS (well, just three daughters…)!

I always knew the mother of the three scandalous sisters: Brooke, Madison and Liberty was forward, stubborn, determined, and all for breaking any rule she could. Now I know just how much!

Two weeks ago, I announced that the calm Regina and blunt Edward, cast of, His Contract Bride had won the Silken Sands Self-Published Star Award (which is a readers choice award).

Well…leave it to Carolina the heroine of His Yankee Bride and her forward approach to everything (and not backing down for anything) to be a finalist in the Colorado’s Romance Writers Award of Excellence! This is one of the few contests that’s open to any published book, no matter who the publisher. I scanned the list and only recognized three or four finalists out of the 45+ in all categories that weren’t with a traditional publishing house. So, even if I don’t win my category (winners are announced June 8), for me, just being a finalist in such a well-known contest with some of these other very prominent names is very humbling and exciting all at the same time!

So in honor of that…I think another chance to win a signed copy or two of His Yankee Bride is in order.

This time, instead of leaving comments (which you’re welcome to do, if you’d like) if you will share on Facebook about my current sale at Amazon for Jilted being at $.99 (yes, this was supposed to end on Monday but despite my efforts to change the price back, it’s stuck… So feel free to take advantage and buy a copy for yourself, a friend, etc.) Please go to this page and share the top post about this sale. I can only keep track of shares done from my original post, if you share it directly off of Amazon I have no way of knowing seeing who you are and adding you to the list of entries.

I’ll randomly pick one winner for every 30 shares the status gets between now and Friday at 6pm CST so feel free to ask others to share the status, too, if you want to increase the number of prizes.

His Jilted Bride on sale for .99 until Monday!

From now until Monday, you can get His Jilted Bride for .99 at the following:

Amazon

All Romance eBooks

Apple’s iBooks

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

It’s her wedding day and there is no groom in sight. But why should Amelia Brice be surprised? Hiram, Lord Friar is known for having no gentleman’s honor to speak of and his jilting her on their wedding day makes it official.

Elijah Banks cannot allow his childhood friend to continue to be shamed this way. It’s been almost an hour past the time when the wedding was to start, and that bounder still hasn’t shown up. Unable to sit still a second longer, Elijah does the only thing that seems logical from where he stands: kidnap the bride and marry her himself in order to escape this scandal with one far more forgiving for a young lady’s reputation.

The only trouble is, she has a secret…but so does he; hers is big…but his is bigger.

SWAG Part 2: Bookplates (And a few reader questions)

Yesterday I showed bookmarks, today I have bookplates!

For the sake of me not sending out so many emails to clog your inbox, I’m going to answer a few reader questions in this post.

1. What does “swag” stand for?

“Something we all get” If you ever go to a readers’ conference or book fair or even sometimes your own library, there are items that you’ll get in your registration bag or just to pick up. This can be anything from pens to chip clips, lip balm to USB drives, business cards to signed book covers, chewing gum to bandage dispensers. Just a hodgepodge of items that the author has his/her name put on to help you remember their name/books.

2. Who designed the bookmarks and postcards?

Anya Kelleye. I meant to post that yesterday, but I got distracted (sorry, Anya!). Anyway, she has done several projects for me including the bookmarks and bookplates.

3. Is it necessary to read the two previous books in the series to read His Jilted Bride?

Not at all. The two previous books take place nearly 30 years earlier and are the stories of the hero’s mother and father and aunt and uncle, respectively. If you want to see Elijah (or his twin Henry who is the hero in His Brother’s Bride) in previous books, I’d recommend Her Sudden Groom which is about his eldest brother, in which he plays a very minor role toward the end, and in Her Imperfect Groom where they both play another small roll in the first third. Nothing that is crucial to the plot of Jilted takes place in any of the other books.

4. Will you be signing books at RT this year?

Yes. I will be signing during the Indie Expo on May 2, from 4-6pm. I’ll also have two “meet & greets” in Club RT at 1pm on Wednesday and 2pm on Thursday. Come see me and divest me of some swag! In addition to this, I have pressured a good friend of mine Ruth Ann Nordin to come to dinner with me and with us, we’d love to have some readers join us for that dinner! So if you’ll let one of us know that you plan to be there and would like to dine with us, we can get you more details.

5. What is your progress with The Officer and the Bostoner, young lady? (That was EXACTLY how that was written to me and it was not from my mom!)

Very, very good. I am hoping to finish the first draft today, actually. I have one more chapter and the epilogue. It shouldn’t take long, then I have to spend the afternoon and Sunday to sort swag before I can start my prelim edits on Monday morning.

6. When will The Officer and the Bostoner be out?

July. I still have to do several rounds of edits, THEN send it to the professional, then make changes and have it go to proofing. At the same time, I can’t just focus on this book with RT coming, a 70 mile bike ride for diabetes and a ton of end-of-the-year field trips that I have to chaperone. Oh, and for some crazy reason, I agreed to take a group of tweens and teens from my church camping the weekend before RT. So…it’ll be a bit. I want it done right. Also, I’m hoping while this one is being worked on with edits, I can start writing the next. If they can both be done being written before July, and I can work on the final installment, then I’ll be able to put them out closer together. (Keep in mind, this its just all in theory, I’ve learned never to make promises!)

And for our last question…

7.  At the end of Liberty for Paul it’s mentioned that Sam (Paul’s brother) will no longer be able to sire children, what exactly happened to his parts?

Uh…well, I really left this open to the reader’s interpretation and what they wanted to happen to him. How much do they hate him and what do they think he deserves. In my mind, I imagined the privilege was gone. As in, he wasn’t like Marcus where he’d had an accident and could still perform but not sire children; but rather his ability to even have any type of sexual activity was squished right along with his…er…wedding tackle. Realistically, back then, I don’t think he’d have survived if the accident had been so bad it had actually divested him of his lust musket (yes, I put lust on purpose–that man doesn’t know the meaning of love) or if not immediately, but later. They have the means such a misfortune now, but not back then. But that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t hurt in such a way that destroyed the nerves underneath that allow him to rise to the occasion and that perhaps his whirligigs didn’t get damaged to a point that it was necessary for them to be removed. Really though, it’s up to you. How badly do you want to imagine he got injured?