Exciting week ahead with Lori Brighton
October 25th, 2009 by Edie Ramer
Lots of exciting news about our guest this Thursday, Lori Brighton, whose Kensington debut historical, WILD HEART, will be available on Nov. 3rd. She’ll be giving away THREE autographs books to lucky commenters on her Thursday blog.
Before I tell you more about her book, she’s planned one of the best contests since Karin Tabke’s First Line Contest. Lori is having a First Paragraph Contest! Her editor, Megan Records, is the judge. You can read more about it on Lori’s blog.
Our extraordinary guest has a degree in Anthropology and worked as a museum curator. Deciding the people in her imagination were slightly more exciting than the dead things in a museum basement, she set out to become an author. She sold WILD HEART after only six years of writing.
For your enjoyment, here are the back cover blurb and an evocative excerpt:
Wanton. . .
Leo Roberts is next in line for an earldom and the power and fortune that come with it, but he is uncultured, unrefined–and completely untamed. . .until governess Ella Finch arrives upon the scene. Can so young and inexperienced a woman tutor him in the manners and mores of his class? Leo’s mysterious past has rendered him an outsider, too wild for polite society. But he finds her innocence most intriguing. . .
Willing…
What manner of man he may be, Ella does not know. Yet he fascinates her and she must know more. Capturing Leo’s reckless heart is about to free her in ways she never dreamed of. . .and his sensual touch releases the deepest yearnings of her body and soul. . .
Excerpt
Eager to be alone, Ella stumbled into the room, closing the door behind her. Her heart raced in her chest, her mouth dry. Familiar feelings, but completely inappropriate at the moment.
“Why now?” she whispered, looking heavenward.
She took in a deep breath and moved to the narrow windows, pushing them wide. A crisp breeze swept inside, rustling the thick, green curtains and providing relief to her fevered skin. Below, a rich and colorful garden thrived. There wasn’t enough light to see the ocean, but the flowers below would be a merry sight to greet her every morning. She leaned forward and breathed deep. The perfumed scent of roses wafted in from a vine that crawled up the house to her window. Taking comfort in the blooms, she closed her eyes and focused.
An animal, desperate but not crying out for help. She didn’t understand the mixed signals, had never experienced such a confusing blend before. Fading and then pulsing to life as if the poor beast weren’t quite sure if he needed assistance or not. A trapped hare? A sickly bird? But it felt larger. A hunted deer?
She pulled the necklace from her collar, running the pendant up and down the thin, silver chain. Frustrated, she started to turn away when a sudden movement caught her attention. A man stalked from the house. The wind teased his hair, brushing the strands across his neck—strands much too long for any decent gentleman. Was he the culprit? The man responsible for tormenting whatever animal was in need of help?
Stunned and curious, she pushed the curtain further aside and peered into the evening. In his hand he dragged what looked to be a framed canvas. How odd. Was he real or some mythical beast made visible by the magic of twilight? Her gaze slid from his face, hidden by his long hair, down to the sleeves of his white shirt, which were rolled to his elbows. Even from her vantage point she could see the corded muscles flexed in his forearms.
An unfamiliar heat pulsed through her body, pushing aside the familiar hum of her powers. The subject of her fascination stopped and threw the canvas in a wide arc. The painting sailed through the garden and landed on a yellow rose bush.
“Rather peculiar,” Ella whispered.
He spun around as if he heard her comment. Ella squeezed back behind the curtains. The small, porcelain clock on the fireplace mantel ticked the time by. Unable to control her curiosity, she finally peeked between the folds of the drapes. His gaze lingered directly at her window. For a few seconds he merely stared. Surely he couldn’t see her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited…waited…waited.
Finally, he dropped his attention and disappeared into the house. Ella raced across the room and bolted her door. Safely ensconced, she leaned against the thick, wooden panel and breathed a sigh of relief. By God, who was he?
