"Hi everyone and thanks to Stacey for inviting me to visit today. DEDICATION is a book I'm very fond of--it was my first book and I was fortunate enough to get back the rights, rewrite, and have it published with this gorgeous cover--very appropriate for a book about second chances!"
DEDICATION, by Janet MullanyGenre: Regency historical
Adam
and Fabienne came of age and fell wildly in love during a time of revolution
but times have changed. Now he’s a respectable country gentleman and she’s a
powerful patroness of the arts and they have little in common … or do they?
She’s falling in love as she exchanges letters with a reclusive female gothic
novelist, and Adam can’t help responding, but surely she knows who he really
is, a man writing women’s books under a woman’s name? As their lives become
entangled again after two decades apart, dark secrets and betrayals from the
past are revealed, threatening them and others they love.
EXCERPT (The heroine, Fabienne Craigmont, has
traveled to the country to find an authoress with whom she has exchanged
passionate, intimate letters. The writer isn’t home, but she meets instead her
former lover Adam, who reluctantly invites her to stay at his house. She goes
in search of a book to read ...)
As she
lifted her candle to view the nearest books, Adam’s voice came from the
shadows, a sinister growl.
“What
are you doing here, Mrs. Craigmont?”
She
stifled a shriek and dropped her candle. It fell to the floor and rolled away,
the flame extinguished. “What are you doing here?”
“I
beg your pardon. This is my house, my library, madam, and I ask you again, what
you are doing here.” He moved toward her.
“I
am looking for a book. I wish to read something.” Her words sounded inadequate
and foolish.
“I
see.” He took his spectacles off and tossed them onto his desk. Now he was
between her and the desk, tall and forbidding in shirt and breeches.
“Well,
why do you lurk in the shadows to frighten me so?”
He
held a book up. “I was fetching this when I heard you make your not
particularly discreet entrance, Mrs. Craigmont. I snuffed my candle to see what
you were about.”
“Oh,
do not be ridiculous. What else would I do in a library but look for a book?”
“That
is what I wondered too.” He paused in front of her, a little too close.
“What
do you mean—” Oh, God. She was here, alone, wearing only a nightgown and shawl,
her hair loosened. Did he think she had come here to seduce him? She backed
away from him. “I think I had better leave. I see this is not a convenient time
for you.”
“Oh,
please, Mrs. Craigmont. It is not at all inconvenient. On the contrary, I think
we both know what you seek.” His smile was taunting and predatory.
Fabienne
stared back at him, determined not to show any fear. She was no longer a terrified
girl who would beg for mercy, a victim of casual lust, Adam’s or any other
man’s. She reassured herself, trying to think rationally. Once she thought
she’d known this man; she’d even fancied herself in love with him.
His
easy, sarcastic smile and arrogant stance angered her. “Good night, Mr.
Ashworth.” She stepped back, and her heel touched the base of a bookshelf, her
shoulders brushing against the uneven ridges of books. He followed her that one
step back, adept as a dancer or fencer, and placed one hand on the shelf at her
shoulder, half entrapping her, daring her to move.
“One
moment, Mrs. Craigmont.” He trailed his fingers along her jawbone and splayed
his fingers into her loosened hair, drawing her face to his.
“Stop—”
The
word had hardly left her lips before his mouth blocked further speech in a kiss
that was surprisingly gentle, despite his threatening aspect. There was
strength there, certainly in the force of his embrace and the press of his
hips, but it was as though he knew that sweetness would disarm her more than
any show of force. His lips withdrew, then brushed hers, posing a hesitant
question, a promise of passion withheld—for the moment.
Damn
him.
Her
body arched toward his, returning that implicit message as her mouth opened to
his, and years and pain and her common sense faded away.
“Damn
you!” She wrenched away from him.
He
raised his eyebrows and fingered a lock of hair that fell on her neck, his
touch as potent as it had been at Tillotson’s house, as it had always been.
“Well?”
“Damn
you, Adam Ashworth.” Rage made her breath fast and shallow. She hoped it was
only rage. “Damn you. So you still know how to kiss. And you’re still a
bastard.”
He
stepped back and bowed. “Your servant, madam.”
She
swung her hand back and slapped his face as hard as she could. “Good night, Mr.
Ashworth.”
“Good
night, Mrs. Craigmont.” He crossed to the library door and opened it, a mocking
smile on his face.
Head
high, she walked out of the library, willing herself not to hurry. Once he
could no longer see her, she ran through the dark stone passage, blundered into
something that stood in the way, and reached the staircase. Safe in her room,
she flung herself into bed and waited for her pulse to return to normal, the
bedclothes pulled over her head. The thunder of her heartbeat, she assured
herself, was only attributable to her flight upstairs.
It
was nothing to do with Adam, damn him.
Nothing
at all.
Damn
him, she thought, damn him, God rot him, and lay awake for what seemed like
hours before falling into a restless sleep.
~*~
Thank you, Janet for that great excerpt ~ I wish you the best of luck with your book!
Readers, don't forget to leave a comment for your chance to win a copy.
Janet Mullany, granddaughter of an
Edwardian housemaid, was born in England but now lives near Washington, DC. Her
debut book was Dedication, the only Signet Regency to have two bondage
scenes (and which was reissued with even more sex in April 2012 from Loose-Id).
Her next book, The Rules of Gentility (HarperCollins 2007) was acquired
by Little Black Dress (UK) for whom she wrote three more Regency chicklits, A
Most Lamentable Comedy, Improper Relations, and Mr. Bishop and the
Actress. Her career as a writer who does terrible things to Jane Austen
began in 2010 with the publication of Jane and the Damned
(HarperCollins), and Jane Austen: Blood Persuasion (2011) about Jane as
a vampire, and a modern retelling of Emma, Little to Hex Her, in
the anthology Bespelling Jane Austen headlined by Mary Balogh. She also
writes contemporary erotic fiction for Harlequin, Tell Me More (2011)
and Hidden Paradise (September, 2012).
Stacey Joy Netzel
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