My big announcement. My historical romance, A VERY DIFFICULT MAN, will be released in print on Monday, January 19th. I will be blogging (God willing and the creek don't rise) tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow about when, where and how to order my book. Below is a short excerpt to tempt you to purchase my book. There is the beautiful cover. There's a beautiful gypsy fortune teller in my book. That's her crystal ball.
Like a prisoner facing execution Catherine followed her employer across the hallway. Lady Glenmore tapped lightly on the door and opened it.
"Richard, this is Miss Thurston, the young lady I've engaged as your companion." She placed her hand on Catherine's back and gently propelled her into the room. "I will leave you to become acquainted."
The door clicked shut. Catherine was alone with him. She sidled to one side hoping to catch a glimpse of the monster.
The room was dimly lit. A single lamp glowed on the mantelpiece. Blurry images were reflected in a mirror hanging above. As her eyes became accustomed to the gloom she made out a table, a bookcase, a chair by the fireplace, and opposite from where she stood, a high-backed chair, facing away from her.
Suddenly the chair swung around. A second later a book flew across the room. Catherine ducked as it crashed against the door.
He'd almost hit her! Furious at him, she picked up the volume. "How dare you throw a book at me?" Taking aim at the shadowy figure leaning back in the chair she hurled the book. Instead of striking him as she'd intended, it sailed past and thudded against the wall.
Hands clenched against her sides Catherine edged towards the door and safety.
"So this is how you comfort me," he snapped.
"Comfort you, my lord? No indeed, I am not paid to comfort you. I am paid to read to you. Good afternoon, Lord Glenmore. I shall call in the morning. Perhaps you will be in better humor. In the meantime I intend to stroll in the garden."
"You are my paid companion, Miss Thurston. I expect you to obey me. Put up with my ill humor or leave me alone."
"That I will not do, I am engaged to read to you. If you insist on throwing books at me I will sit outside your door and read loudly enough for you to hear every word." She grasped the doorknob and turned the handle. "Good afternoon, Lord Glenmore."
"Return at once, Miss Thurston. I have not finished with you."
Catherine fled to safety and slammed the door behind her. She leaned against it until her heart stopped hammering against her ribs and her knees stopped shaking.
This was worse than she'd imagined. Much worse.
She'd not allow Lord Glenmore to use her as target practice. She'd outwit him. She'd fulfill her contract by sitting outside his door. He was quite mad. Little wonder his previous companions had fled from the house.
She returned to her room, collected her warm woolen shawl from the wardrobe, wrapped it around her shoulders, ventured into the hallway, tiptoed past the madman's door and like an explorer in a strange land, made her way through a maze of corridors to the magnificent staircase leading to the marble tiled entrance hall. In an alcove, an armored knight, visor down, stood at attention. A family relic, she thought, and nodded at the silent figure as she passed.
A stroll in the garden breathing fresh air would restore her fighting spirit. Lord Glenmore was a formidable opponent.
* * * * *
Richard seized his crutches and hopped across to the bell. "Bloody woman," he muttered and tugged the rope almost ripping it from its moorings. He felt around the floor for the book she'd thrown at him. His eyes had improved enough for him to see her outlined in the door before she stepped inside and his mother closed it. She must have worn something dark. He hadn't intended to hit her, but a glancing blow might have driven her straight back home, wherever that was; very likely a residence for single ladies past their prime.
His valet hurried into the room. "You rang, milord?"
"Of course, I rang. Bring me a brandy and don't pretend there's none in the house. I haven't drunk my way through the cellar yet." He threw himself into his chair. "And inform my mother to dismiss the young lady she has engaged to read to me."
I haven't a clue why the print has jumped to DARK AND BOLD and haven't a clue how to change it. It's the gremlins again. To read reviews about my book, please go to my web site. www.anitabirt.com or drop me a line at, anita.birt@gmail.com. I'd enjoy hearing from you.
Anita
No comments:
Post a Comment