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1. What’s in your fridge
right now?
Not much, my mom used to do the
shopping, but now that it’s me and my dad we have a completely different list
of foods we get. For the longest time there weren’t any vegetables in there,
other than premade Coleslaw for my dad. Other than that, maybe some fruit and
condiments. I know, I know, it sounds pathetic, but when you’re grieving you
don’t really care.
2. What song do you sing
at the top of your voice every time you hear it?
I don’t listen to music anymore,
not since my mom died. But when I did it wouldn’t be the song but my mood that
would dictate whether I sang. Since I moved to where I am now, seven years ago,
I can’t sing anymore as it will disturb my brother’s family upstairs. I have a
trained voice so I like to sing more loudly.
3. Other than writing,
what special or unusual talent(s) do you have?
It would depend on who you ask,
as to whether it would be considered a talent. I sketch, and have posted a few
on my author page on facebook, under notes. They are really faint so you will
have to click on them to see them better. Um...I have a trained singing voice;
I can play the piano, I’ve done a little bit of acting, I used to figure skate,
studied tap, jazz ballet and ballet for a bit, stuff like that.
4. Where did you last go
on holiday?
Holiday? What’s that? No, but
seriously, if we are talking strictly holiday with no conventions
involved...That would be when I was working in Japan for a year, and took a
couple of weeks off to fly over to Hong Kong, during Chinese New Year. We then
went over the border into China, and took a ferry to Macau, which is part of
Portugal, if I remember correctly. But that was twenty years ago.
5. If your house was
attacked by feral aliens, and they were zapping your house with their Über super bombs,
what five items would you save?
Knowing that my family was safe
and that we had food, water, blankets and things like that, I would probably
grab family photos, my flash drive with all my in progress or published work,
my file drawer with all my plots and ideas, my artwork, and something to
remember my mom by.
6.
If
someone wrote a biography about you, what do you think the title should be?
The title would be, “What the...?!”
7. If you were a comic book character, which one would
it be?
Wonder Woman, because I am always
wondering what the heck is going on.
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When his first love, the Lady Marianne, dies in his
arms, the Duke of Albourne believes her lost to him forever…until he meets the
Lady Elizabeth, who seems strangely destined to fulfill Marianne’s promise of a
last dance with the duke.
Excerpt:
Anthony Thornhill, the Duke
of Albourne, was quite enjoying the close company. He had to admit, she was not
like the many other girls he had known, all fluttering eyelashes and coy smiles
behind lace fans. No, she was quite extraordinary, and the fact that she was
not already melting under his most capable charm, as every other sweet young
thing to have graced his presence had done, was evidence enough of that. She
intrigued him, this young woman before him, and engendered a sense of challenge
within him. And he was never more alive than when aroused by a challenge as
sweet as Lady Elizabeth.
He grinned, observing her
downward glance, and then looked in the direction of the refreshment tables.
“It would seem that I must attend to this,” he admitted with a note of
reluctance, having come to appreciate their intimate circumstance. “If you
would wait for me here, I won’t be but a—”
Lady Elizabeth gasped as
someone fell against her, pushing her into Anthony. He reached out quickly,
catching her in his arms. The impact knocked him back although he braced
against it.
“Forgive me,” Lady
Elizabeth uttered. Her palms pressed firmly into the now taut muscles of
Anthony’s chest. She tried to right herself, but the man who’d knocked her over
was still pushing against her as he attempted to stand.
The fragrance of lilacs
rose before Anthony, the firmness of Lady Elizabeth’s body now deliciously warm
as she was pressed helplessly against him. He tightened his arms
around her. Her silken curls caressed his face and as the pink of her
cheeks deepened noticeably, he smiled.
He liked the way she felt
in his arms. In fact, he’d been thinking about it ever since she’d stumbled
into those same arms earlier in High Street. Only then, the moment had been
lost before he’d had the opportunity to really enjoy it.
Now, he was definitely
enjoying the moment, and the fact that he was unable to move—unable to do anything
in which he could remedy the situation—was no cause for alarm as far as he was
concerned. Although she was trying desperately to pull away, moving her body
ever so slightly against him in the process, it only served to heighten his
pleasure.
“Lady Elizabeth—”
The man righted himself and
Lady Elizabeth was at last able to free herself.
“You must believe me the
clumsiest fool, sir,” she said to Anthony, her hands still firmly pressed upon
the embroidered grey silk of his waistcoat.
“I could never believe that
of you, Lady Elizabeth.” An errant curl had come loose, its raven tress
descending upon the milky white of her neck, and he watched as she tried
unsuccessfully to tuck it back into place.
He realized he had been
staring. “Lady Elizabeth?” He hesitated, hoping his words would bring those
green eyes to look upon him, her gaze having been directed everywhere but.
“Lady Elizabeth, I—”
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