My good friend and awesome author, Shehanne Moore and I got to talking (surprise, surprise) and discovered that our two heroines, Lady Abigail Houghall from Moonstone Conspiracy and Lady Malice Mallender from The Viking And The Courtesan seemed to have a lot in common.
Well, let them tell you in their own words and do read through for an exciting excerpt from The Viking And The Courtesan out on July 29!
Lady Malice: My dear, how do you like your tea? Even if I personally prefer coffee, Shehanne saw to it that I like tea, out of fine bone china cups with a dash of lemon. And also, before we go further, may I ask where you got your shoes?
Lady Abigail: Without sugar, thank you my dear. Sweet is not really my cup of tea, if you don’t mind me saying so. And these shoes? They’re lovely aren’t they. Since I’ve befriended Sir Percy Blakeney, his wife has introduced me to the most marvellous cobbler – she’s French you know. Not the cobbler, Sir Percy’s wife. And your boots they’re very… one of a kind?
Lady Malice: Oh indeed. I buy all my shoes at Madame Faro’s. I mean I did and works of art they were too but now living several hundred years ago what can one expect but revolting Viking shoes.
Now, I really do think the past is something we should all draw various veils over but before we go further, may I ask, given some of your misfortunes with the Prince Regent, and indeed, Sir James Mitchell, if you are needing a marriage wrecked at all?
Lady Abigail: First that Irish Radical poet Eamon Dauncey, then it was my friend Lady Jane and now you?
I see my reputation proceeds me. I like men, they like me. I don’t wreck marriages, well, not deliberately, any way. What I need is a man who challenges me and who keep up with me, and I have to confess, there is something about that agent of Sir Percy’s, Daniel Ridgeway who has a habit of getting under my skin. And what about you, and that big Nordic god there? Sin… now that’s an interesting name…
Lady Malice: Well, yes. Of course it is really short for Sinarr. My dear, I hope I said nothing wrong. May I assure you neither of are like our names….. Sort of not like our names. Ahem.
Lady Abigail: I’m thinking of moving to Italy – Naples specifically. Lady Hamilton is a wonderful hostess, I’m given to believe. I understand that you’ve been abroad too. Would that have been Italy as well or further afield?
Lady Malice: Not exactly. No. As I explained to my not so dear husband, that was Scandinavia. Norway in fact since they treat giraffes better there. I must say though, Italy is a divine place I would not have minded visiting. But alas one’s marriage wrecking skills are no long required so I doubt if I will ever visit there now. I am led to believe that you are very skilled in certain departments.
Lady Abigail: I have to confess to a certain skill in picking locks. Very handy for opening a rival’s diary or rescuing lovers from French mental asylums.
Lady Malice: Asylums? Do you know the swine I married had the temerity to put me in one?
Lady Abigail: While we’re in a confessing mood, do you boast an unusual talent – apart from the obvious, of course!
Lady Malice: Well, I suppose that time travelling might come into that category. Of course it is a family trait. Did you know my grandmother was apparently a NYT best selling author? I didn’t until I kissed my husband. Tell me, this Daniel…what is he like? How did he end up in a French mental asylum?
Lady Abigail: Ah yes, the straitjacket – I’ve had experience of those – only from the outside…
Daniel… Daniel is an unusual man and most times I don’t know what he’s thinking. That annoys me greatly. In my experience, men are so easy to read, their needs are so simple – food and sex… but Daniel, he’s different. I wish I knew what he was thinking, but I don’t.
I digress. The straitjacket. Daniel was in one of those because of me – well indirectly. We were searching for a confederate of Daniel’s when we were ambushed by Colonel Alexis Roux from the France’s new secret division of the Committee for Public Safety. He has a nasty habit of locking up suspects in a mental asylum for ‘private’ questioning. With some help, I had to rescue him.
Lady Malice: Goodness, re food and sex and men’s needs, here was me of the opinion that most men think with one thing and that thing isn’t their….well,… let me not digress either, except to say that noticeably you rescued him. Let me not tell you about the scrapes I get Sin out of because of his big…mouth.
Lady Abigail: I’m not sure I know what a New York Times is. I only read the London Times. But I’m rather intrigued by time travelling. How did you discover that you had this most remarkable gift?
Lady Malice: Hmmmm. Well, do you know I kissed my husband finally? Yes, after five years. It was as simple as that. And then there I was in Saxon England in the middle of a Viking raid on a convent. As to how I got back to Regency London, well, that involved a little more but I am a great one for keeping things clean. Now I know you will be thinking…excuse me?
Indeed Shehanne’s editor thought the very same. But once it was explained re this being a family trait and secret, no more was to be said, except we are looking at a series, like you with the Moonstone. Now I see all this rescuing stuff. I trust you and Daniel ARE an item? I would worry if you were not. Also, pray tell us that your author is going to write more Moonstone books.
Lady Abigail: Ah, that remains to be seen… my author Elizabeth is somewhat of a time traveller herself. At the moment she is in 3rd century AD Rome, has some plans to spend time with her handsome husband in Medieval England (perhaps she will see you and Sin there if you’re planning another jaunt).
I understand that Sir Percy has asked if Daniel and I would like to continue in his employ and we’ve not yet made up our minds, so you never know.
Lady Malice: Well, these authors are so selfish, aren’t they that us humble characters can but live in hope. More tea? Or would you, like me, prefer something stronger?
“Jewels? What do you think I am? Do you have any idea what I want—”
Pressing his fingers harder against her mouth, he tipped her back on the mattress. Just when Snotra would be listening this hissing, spitting troll was going to ruin this.
“I don’t care what you want,” he gritted.“Shoes are what you can have. And jewels and whatever…”
Actually tipping her back onto the mattress so her flailing body was underneath him, wasn’t the smartest, although if Snotra had crept up the ladder and was staring through the drape, this tussle with the troll would certainly look convincing. On the surface anyway. He didn’t know how much muster it would pass if Snotra looked closer. He could and would make this Saxon she-wolf obey him now.
“Do you understand?”He seized her wrists, dragging them above her head so she couldn’t move. “You’re in no position to bargain here. If you can’t moan, I’ll get someone who can.”
She stuck her chin in the air. “So you say.”
“And they can have the damned dress, the troll toothed shoes too.”
“Viking shoes. Oh fortunate them.”
“Start doing it now.”
“So Snotra can tear my eyes out?” Her face was set in the blandest lines. “You know? I think not.”
“Well I do.”
Blurb – Coming July 29th Soul Mate Publishing.
In 898 AD she wasn’t just from another land.
Wrecking a marriage is generally no problem for the divorce obtaining, Lady Malice Mallender. But she faces a dilemma when she’s asked to ruin her own. Just how businesslike should she remain when the marriage was never consummated and kissing her husband leads to Sin–a handsome Viking who wants her for a bed slave in name only?
She came from another time.
Viking raider Sin Gudrunsson wants one thing. To marry his childhood sweetheart. Only she’s left him before, so he needs to keep her on her toes, and a bed slave, in name only, seems just the thing. Until he meets Malice.
One kiss is all it takes to flash between two worlds
But when one kiss is no longer enough, which will it be? Regency London? Or Viking Norway? Will Malice learn what governs the flashes? Can Sin?
Where worlds collide can love melt the iciest heart?
Pre sale buy links.
When not cuddling inn signs in her beloved Scottish mountains alongside Mr Shey, or spending time with her family, Shehanne Moore writes dark and smexy historical romance, featuring bad boys who need a bad girl to sort them out. She firmly believes everyone deserves a little love, forgiveness and a second chance in life.
Shehanne caused general apoplexy when she penned her very first story, The Hore House Mystery—aged seven. What hasn’t she worked at while pursuing her dream of becoming a published author?
She also loves playing various musical instruments, decorating and hearing from readers, not necessarily in that order and is thrilled to be with Soul Mate Publishing.