Showing posts with label gavin graystone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gavin graystone. Show all posts

Monday, July 15, 2013

A Full Cast of Characters

In any good romantic novel, play, or movie there is always a clearly defined hero and heroine. But no story would be complete without an accompanying cast, and The Runaway Duchess is no exception.

I've always loved reading (and writing) character driven stories. In The Runaway Duchess, you will get a chance to meet not only the hero (Gavin Graystone) and his feisty heroine (Charlotte Vanderley) but their friends and family as well.

In the Wedded Women Quartet readers are introduced to four best friends, women who grew close to each other in school and maintained that close relationship through heartbreak, husbands, marriages, and children. In The Runaway Duchess Charlotte has one best friend who she turns to when she needs advice, or simply a shoulder to cry on.

Short and plump and perfectly adorable with blond ringlets, rosy cheeks, and dancing blue eyes Dianna had been friends with Charlotte since childhood and the two women rarely went a day without seeing each other. [TRD excerpt, Chapter Two] 

Normally quiet and reserved and unfailingly proper, Dianna finds herself in unfamiliar territory when she wakes up in Charlotte's room after attending a masquerade ball the night before. 

       Dianna sat up on one elbow and squinted blearily in Charlotte’s general direction. Her hair was a halo of messy blond curls around her face and she was still wearing her costume; Charlotte having been unable to peel her out of it before she collapsed into bed upon their return.  “I was foxed, you say?” She pursed her lips. “I have never been foxed before. Did I enjoy myself?”
“Immensely.”
“How do you know?”
Charlotte paused in the act of plucking yet another dress from the depths of the armoire. Frowning, she held it up and tried to gauge the color in the dim lighting. Was it navy blue or plum purple? “How did I know what?” she asked absently.
“That I had indulged in too much champagne.”
“You hung out of the carriage window on the way home and burst into song.” Blue, she decided. Most definitely blue. Folding it in half, she tossed it on top of the others and reached inside for one more.
“I did not,” Dianna breathed.
“You most certainly did.” Charlotte popped out of the armoire holding a traveling cloak to her chest. “Since I was the one who had to pull you back inside before you killed yourself, I should know better than anyone.”
“I was a hoyden,” Dianna said, not sounding entirely displeased by the notion.
“Of the first order,” Charlotte agreed. [TRD excerpt, Chapter Ten]

There is also Charlotte's mother (Bettina Vanderley), a woman who, at heart, wants the best for her daughter but doesn't always go about it in the best of ways. 

“I will not marry him.” Standing with her arms crossed and her jaw set, twenty-one-year-old Charlotte Vanderley shook her head from side to side, sending her unruly mass of red curls whipping across her face. “He is old and grotesque and I would not want him if he were the last man on earth!”
“Pin your hair up dear, you look like a heathen.” Unimpressed by her daughter’s belligerence, Lady Bettina Vanderley sipped her tea and smoothed a wrinkle from her skirts. Always impeccably dressed and well put together, nothing grated on Bettina’s nerves quite like a coiffure that was loose or a stay that was not pulled tight.
A woman of quiet reserve and a spine of steel, she blamed every single one of her gray hairs on Charlotte and often wondered what she had done so wrong to deserve such a troublesome child. There was no denying the girl her beauty (and for that Bettina took full credit) but as for everything else… Well, it was well known the late Lord Vanderley had always been much too indulgent with his only daughter. And this, Bettina thought sourly as she took in Charlotte’s flushed cheeks and the rebellious gleam in her hazel eyes, is the result. [TRD excerpt, Chapter One]

Gavin's closest friend (not that he would ever admit to having one) is Ernie, his valet. A plucky, humorous fellow, Ernie plays a small (albeit very important) part in bringing Gavin and Charlotte together, as seen from this small excerpt. 

 Ernie had never seen his boss in such a state before, snapping orders left and right. Something had certainly gotten up under his britches, and he was pretty sure he knew what – or rather, who – that was.
He just never thought he would live to see the day the notoriously hard hearted Gavin Graystone fell in love. And to fall for such a slip of a girl… Ernie grinned. He wondered how long it would take for his boss to figure out he had taken the big jump. Gavin was a tough man. Some would even say a cruel one, although he certainly had his reasons, though few were privy to them.
Rocking back on his heels Ernie crossed his arms and rubbed his chin where a pitiful excuse for a beard grew. He tugged it thoughtfully.
He owed Gavin his life, a debt he had been struggling to repay for nearly half a decade, ever since Gavin lifted him up – quite literally – from the gutter, shook the filth from his clothes, and made him his person valet (among other less glamorous job titles). Maybe, at long last, he’d finally found a way to repay him… if his new bride was agreeable, of course. [TRD excerpt, Chapter Thirteen]

Other character's pop up throughout the novel [Dianna's eccentric aunt, the nefarious duke to which Charlotte is unwillingly engaged, and Gavin's butler, to name a few] but hopefully these three piqued your interest. And don't forget, The Runaway Duchess will be available on Amazon TOMORROW! So look for it then. :) 

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Kissing & Chemistry

I write historical romance. In romance there are love scenes. A love scene can involve a lot of things besides the obvious: a lustful glance passed across a crowded room, a secret touch beneath a table, or - my personal favorite - a good old fashioned kiss. My job as an author is build believable chemistry between the hero and heroine in my novels. Sometimes that chemistry is there from the get go, and sometimes it takes a while to flame the fires of passion (sorry... I always wanted to use that line in one of my books, but since it's unforgivably cheesy I'll use it here instead).

Why are good love scenes important? Well, because they will (hopefully) stick with the reader and make them root for the characters involved. Take the following kisses for example... I know they're from movies, but guaranteed you know what movie they came from because the characters made an impression on you. Better yet, their chemistry made an impression on you. And what better way to illustrate chemistry than with a kiss?





The following excerpt is from The Runaway Duchess (05/10/13). It's the first time the hero (Gavin Graystone) and the heroine (Charlotte Vanderley) meet. I'll let you decide if they have chemistry or not. 

_____________________________________________

“I am leaving,” Charlotte announced before she spun on her heel and closed her hand around the doorknob.

Gavin did not know why he did it. One moment he was lounging against the chair, the next he was uncoiling to his impressive height of six feet and crossing the room to stand behind the girl. She wrenched the door open. He moved with lightening quickness to slam it shut. He saw the muscles in her shoulders and neck tighten before she whirled around and lifted her chin to glare up at him; a titian haired warrior princess with a Cupid’s bow mouth just asking to be ravished.

“You cannot leave yet,” he said, his voice coming out unnaturally husky. Lord, but she smelled sweet. Like violets and sunshine and something just a little dark. A little dangerous. She was dangerous, if only for the fact that she made it so temptingly easy to forget who and what she was: an innocent, but worse than that – far worse, to Gavin’s mind – a highborn lady. Aye, this one’s blood was as blue as they came; he would stake his life on it. He fought to remember why he despised the nobility, but it was a losing battle. In this moment, in this breath, there was only him and there was only her. He ached to touch her. To know the feel of her skin. The taste of her flesh.

“Are you going to kiss me?” she asked. In the dancing candlelight her eyes were endless pools of shimmering green. He shifted closer and her eyes widened, but she did not look away or fight to be free of him. She stood quietly, her head tipped slightly to the right, her arms poised at her sides. Gavin wet his lips. The small motion drew her gaze to his mouth, and the naïve curiosity he saw flicker across her face was nearly his undoing.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured, dropping his head and bracing both arms on either side of the door, effectively pinning her between them. From inside his chest his heart pounded and his pulse raced, as if he were an eager school boy again about to lose his virginity. When had a woman affected him like this, let alone a slip of a girl with fire in her hair and steel in her eyes? Never. The answer was never. “Tell me to let you go,” he said roughly, dragging one hand from the door to cup the delicate curve of her jaw.

“Why?” she whispered.

Why indeed? Throwing caution to the wind, Gavin muttered a savage oath as he claimed her mouth with his.

The Runaway Duchess