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About the author:
Multi-genre author of Victorian maritime romance/family saga, Heiresses in Love, and 20 other books. Marie Lavender lives in the Midwest with her family and two cats. She has been writing for a little over twenty-five years. She has more works in progress than she can count on two hands. Since 2010, Marie has published 21 books in the genres of historical romance, contemporary romance, romantic suspense, paranormal romance, romantic comedy, dramatic fiction, fantasy, science fiction, mystery/thriller, literary fiction and poetry. An avid blogger on the side, she writes adult fiction, as well as occasional stories for children, and has recently started some young adult fiction. She also contributed to several anthologies. Though Marie has standalone titles on the market, her current published series are The Eternal Hearts Series, The Magick Series, The Code of Endhivar Series, The Misfits Series and The Blood at First Sight Series, but she has many others planned. Her Victorian maritime romance series is returning, and the second editions of the trilogy will be released under her new publisher, Foundations Books.
What inspired you to write your book?
I was in a particularly toxic relationship at the time, and in my imagination, I pictured another couple going through trying times. I thought of how the dialogue might play between them. It was cathartic to write the scenes down. From there, I had a basic sense of the plot, until I started writing more of the story. Many surprises popped up along the way, however.
Here is a short sample from the book:
The man carted her to the dance floor, led her through the waltz, following each step, and didn’t bother to converse with her at all. Just as he was about to lead her through a turn, he guided her off the floor, up a short climb of stairs, and into one of the alcoves. He swept the curtain closed behind them and ushered her to a balcony.
“Monsieur!” she managed, winded not only from dancing but also from his abrupt manner. Her heart began to beat in a sick thud. What did he intend? “Monsieur,” she began again, “what is the meaning of this?”
“I thought we could enjoy a moment alone, away from the crowd.” Through his mask, she noticed a lascivious glint in his eyes as he looked her over. “Surely you cannot deny a man what he wants?” He reached to drag her forward with a grip on her arm.
She gasped with indignation. “I certainly can! I will deny you! How dare you treat me like some trollop—”
“Quit your whining,” he grated out before trying to crush his mouth against hers.
She fought him with all she had, teeth, fingernails, and as much strength as she could muster. He reared back, swearing. His lip was cut where she'd bitten him and there was an ugly red scratch on his neck where her nails had sunk in. “Leave me alone!” She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth to rid herself of his taste.
“Bitch,” he muttered. “You'll pay for that.”
“I would listen to the lady if I were you.”
They both swung to see another man dressed in a dinner coat and trousers with a phantom mask over part of his face.
“What business is it of yours?” the man who'd accosted her asked.
“That doesn't matter. I demand you now treat her like the lady she is. Apologize.”
A thrill tingled down Fara's spine. She knew that voice. It belonged to Grant. But if he wanted to remain anonymous, she would play along.
The man beside her shifted uneasily where he stood. “Or?”
“Or you may not make it to the brothel I assume you attend regularly. Suffice it to say you'll regret it, Monsieur. I may not even go to the trouble of challenging you in a duel.”
He must have seen the sincere threat in Grant's eyes as well as his rapier, which he always carried at his side. The man turned to Fara. “I am sorry, Mademoiselle. It won’t happen again.” He didn’t wait for a response; he swept past both her and Grant and was out of the alcove before they could stop him.
“Obviously propriety is lost on him.”
She smiled. It was so like him to make light of a bad situation. She remembered she still hadn't acknowledged that he knew her. Perhaps he didn’t recognize her? “I would like to thank you, Monsieur, for your intervention.”
“There is no need. I did what any man would’ve done.”
“Not every man would aid just any woman. I should not have accepted his offer to dance. Before I had a chance to stop him, he dragged me in here. I shouldn’t have trusted him.”
“Don't punish yourself over it. But, it's true some strangers can have ulterior motives.”
“But, not all?”
“No, I suppose occasionally someone means well.”
“Would you fit into that category? One with no ulterior motives?”
“Perhaps when I first came inside the alcove…”
His eyes beneath his mask seemed to bore into her very soul. In a way, she knew she was toying with Grant, that he probably thought she didn't know it was him, and was appalled she would flirt with simply any man. What was he feeling? Her heart raced in a strange, exhilarating way, and her breaths were shallower. If he did know it was her, did he care?
“Not now?” she teased.
“Now I just might have ulterior motives…”
“Oh?”
The alcove curtain was closed so they had no reason to fear being seen. A part of her didn't care if they were caught without her having a chaperone. The fact that she wasn't supposed to be here because of her mourning period added to the risk. It was enticing.
She closed the distance between them by approaching him, placing her hands on his chest. “I want to thank you.”
“I told you it wasn't necessary.” His voice sounded suddenly husky.
“I think it is.”
Lips inches apart, they stood that way for what seemed an eternity. When Fara thought she would go mad with the waiting, he lowered his lips to hers, softly questing. Their mouths lingered, lost in sensation and the essence of one another until finally, he pulled away. Through their masks and the silence of the alcove, there was an element Fara couldn't quite pinpoint. Temptation perhaps? She wanted to give in to the unspoken need, but it would be idiocy to act on it.
Grant whispered, “Mademoiselle Bellamont, you are a tease.”
He had accused her of it before, but now she could only sigh. “You would know if I was teasing, Capitaine.” At his frown, she shook her head.
Reality returned just as it always did. There were obligations. Grant then escorted her back to Helene and Rosalie and they left the governor's mansion. Part of her only considered what it might have been like if they'd had nothing to worry about.
Could she have a chance with Grant? Her heart needed to believe in the possibility.
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