Tag Archives: hero

Sneak preview

I’m in the process of working through revisions for my second manuscript so thought I’d share the first meeting of my heroine and hero as I said I would share an excerpt when I had more Facebook likes.

‘The horseman cursed and wheeled his mount around. He galloped away from the water’s edge then turned. With a sudden bellow he cracked the reins sharply and sped back towards the river. As the horse reached the edge, the rider spurred it forward. The horse leapt through the air with ease to land on the deck alongside Eleanor. The ferry bucked, the far end almost rising from the water. Hooves clattered on the slippery wood and the animal gave a high-pitched whinny of alarm. It was not going to stop!

As a cumbersome looking saddlebag swung towards her Eleanor threw herself out of its way. The railing caught her behind the knees and she stumbled backwards, her ankle turning beneath her. Cursing, she flailed her arms helplessly, unable to regain her balance as the river came up to meet her.

The soaking never happened. Something stopped Eleanor with a jerk. Her feet slid on the deck and her head snapped back. Cold spray splashed over her face, her plait dipping below the surface of the water. Blinking rapidly, she raised her head to see what had stopped her fall.

The horseman, still mounted, had twisted across his saddle at what seamed an impossible angle. He leaned almost horizontally over the platform, the neck of Eleanor’s cloak bundled in one gloved hand. Eleanor found herself staring up into a pair of blue eyes half hidden in the depths of his hood.

With ease the man pulled Eleanor back to her feet. Still holding her he threw his leg back across the saddle and dismounted gracefully. As she stood upright a spear of pain shot through Eleanor’s ankle. She gave an involuntary gasp and her knees buckled. With the same speed as his initial rescue, the rider’s arms found their way round Eleanor’s waist, catching her tight and clasping her to him before she slipped to the ground.

“I’ve got you. Don’t wriggle!”

The man’s hood fell back and Eleanor saw him clearly for the first time. He was younger than his voice had suggested. A long scar ran from the outside corner of his eye and across his cheek, disappearing beneath a shaggy growth of beard at his jaw. A second ran parallel from below his eye to his top lip. His corn-coloured hair fell in loose tangles to his shoulder. Close up his eyes were startlingly blue.

Footsteps thundered on the deck as Eleanor’s coachman appeared. It struck Eleanor suddenly that the man was still holding her close, much closer than was necessary, in fact. She because conscious of the rise and fall of his chest, moving rhythmically against her own. Her heart was thumping so heavily she was sure he would be able to feel it through her clothing. As to why it was beating so rapidly she refused to think about.
“You can let go of me now,” she muttered.

The horseman’s eyes crinkled. “I could,” he said, “though I just saved your life. There must be some benefits to rescuing a beautiful maiden in distress, and holding her until she stops shaking is one of them. I suppose a kiss of gratitude is out of the question?”

“You didn’t save my life. I can swim,” Eleanor cried indignantly. It was true she was trembling, but now it was from anger. “I am most certainly not kissing you!”

The man’s forehead crinkled in disbelief. “Even though I saved you from a cold bath?”

Eleanor’s cheeks flamed. “It was your fault in the first instance, you reckless fool. You could have capsized us all. Your horse might have missed completely.”

The horseman laughed. “Nonsense, it was perfectly safe. Tobias could have cleared twice that distance. If you had stood still none of this would have happened. You panicked.”

With an irritated snort Eleanor pushed herself from the man’s grip, contriving to elbow him sharply in the stomach as she did so. She heard a satisfying grunt as she turned her back. She headed to the carriage but her ankle gave a sharp stab of pain. She stopped, balling her fists in irritation. The horseman leaned round beside her. “Allow me,” he said. Before Eleanor could object he had lifted her into his arms and strode the three paces to the coach. With one hand on the door-handle he cocked his head. “Still no kiss? Ah well, it’s a cruel day!”

“There are no circumstances under which I would kiss you!” Eleanor said haughtily, sweeping her gaze up and down him.

His face darkened and Eleanor took the opportunity to wriggle from his arms. Biting her lip to distract herself from the throbbing in her ankle she swung the door open herself and climbed in, slamming it loudly behind her.’

What do you think?

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Casting the roles

Back long before I ever thought I’d get published I made a Facebook page for the book and amused myself by deciding who I would like to play the parts. For a bit of a distraction on a wet, gloomy Sunday afternoon here is the album. Hugh alternates between being Richard Armitage and Tom Ellis depending on my mood. Henry Cavill was always the bad guy though, I think it’s that stare that does it.

If you’ve read the book I’d be interested to see what you think of the choices. Who else did you have in mind when you read it? I’d love to hear!

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.394639830627070.93535.393660027391717&type=1

Excerpt Wednesday

Falling for Her Captor has been out for two weeks now and has already received some lovely reviews so I decided I’d celebrate with an excerpt.

It was late before the Duke allowed Aline to return to her chamber. In a daze she barely registered the fact that the door was unguarded and unlocked. Walking into the room, she stopped in shock. Seated in her chair, silhouetted in the light of the dying fire, was a figure. Her hands flew to her mouth to stifle her cry of alarm and at the sound the intruder looked up.
‘I’m sorry,’ Hugh said gently. ‘I did not mean to startle you.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Aline demanded.
Her heart thumped in her chest. Her eyes slipped to the curtained bed and she felt heat rising to her cheeks and throat as images crossed her mind that she knew were utterly inappropriate.
Hugh rose from the chair. At some point he had removed his coat. The flickering light of the fire caused interesting shadows to move across his chest, where his shirt lay open.
He smiled. ‘Waiting for you of course.’
‘But why are you here?’ Aline asked.
Hugh’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘After this afternoon, where else could I be? I needed to see how you fared.’ He brushed back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across his eyes and fixed Aline with a look that sent shivers through her. ‘I had come to bid you goodbye,’ he whispered gruffly.
‘Had come?’ Aline asked, her heart missing a beat at his words.
‘I was going to leave Roxholm,’ Hugh admitted. ‘For ever. The thought of seeing you every day, knowing you belonged to Stephen, was too much to bear. But that would be the coward’s way. I will not let you face him alone and friendless.’
He took her hands, pulling her closer, and Aline felt the enticing warmth of his body.
‘Say the word, Aline, and I will be your champion, your defender. Whatever you wish of me I will do.’
Aline’s mind flashed back to Stephen’s parting words: ‘Your conduct will be impeccable. If I hear the mere hint of you casting your eyes at another man I will have him executed and brand you as an adulteress. As much as it would pain me to see your beautiful face disfigured, I will do it.
‘No!’ she shook her head. ‘I don’t want a champion.’ She pulled her hands free and stepped back. ‘I wish I had never met you—never laid eyes on you!’
*
At the bitterness in her voice Hugh recoiled as though he had been stabbed. He balled his fists and lifted his chin sharply. ‘Then, if it is your wish, I shall leave Roxholm immediately.’
He stalked past her to the door. She caught him within three paces, the sound of her light step causing him to pause in his exit. ‘Don’t leave!’
‘What do you want of me, Aline?’ he asked, flinging his arms wide in exasperation.
She recoiled at the anger in his voice and shook her head, momentarily lost for words.
‘How else do you want to wound me?’ Hugh asked, his voice gentler now but full of pain.
‘I…I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… I only meant…’ Aline stopped, her eyes brimming with tears.
Hugh reached his hand to her face but stopped short of touching her.
Aline raised her face and closed her eyes. ‘Because marriage to him might have been bearable if I had never known you,’ Aline whispered, her voice trembling.
At her words a hot burst of passion raced through Hugh and he could restrain himself no longer. With a fervour that took him by surprise he pulled Aline close, his strong arms imprisoning her, one hand encircling her slender waist, the other across her back as he buried his face deep in her hair.
Aline leaned her head against Hugh’s chest with a soft sigh. Her arms found their way around his waist, pulling him closer as her breaths came deep and fast. He pulled her tighter until he could feel every contour of her body. She melted against him as if she was wax, her fingers sliding up to his jaw, brushing against his beard, and he gave an involuntary moan of desire, his lips parting in anticipation.
At the sound Aline froze, her arms dropping to her sides. Hugh opened his eyes in surprise. Aline’s eyes were closed and tears glinted on her long lashes, coursed down her pale cheeks.
‘Aline—’ Hugh began, but Aline cut his words off with a strangled sob. He wrapped his arms about her again but she broke away from him, her shoulders shaking. ‘I just want to protect you,’ he said gruffly. ‘Let me look after you.’
‘I don’t need your help—it’s too late for that now. I asked you to release me before, but you refused. I can’t blame you for all my ills, but you brought me here on his orders.’
Aline looked deep into Hugh’s eyes and he saw the anguish mirroring her own.
‘I cannot do this, Hugh. I cannot let myself get close to you. If you feel anything for me at all, go now. Please don’t make me ask again.’
Hugh nodded. He turned on his heel and left, closing the door softly. Through the heavy wood he could hear Aline’s sobs as they grew thicker and faster. He stood there, for how long he could not say, his forehead and hands pressed against the door, sharing in her grief until no further sounds came from the room. Then, with strength of will he had not known he possessed, he walked away.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Falling-Captor-Mills-Boon-Historical-ebook/dp/B00M1OL2X2/ref=pd_ecc_rvi_2

http://www.amazon.com/Falling-Captor-Mills-Boon-Historical-ebook/dp/B00M1OL2X2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1410194483&sr=1-1&keywords=elisabeth+hobbes
Hope you liked it. Let me know what you think in the comments (and if you’ve read further then no spoilers please). x

In Just Seven Days…

I’ve never had the opportunity to create a man before.  I birthed a son once, but I had a pretty good idea how he was going to turn out, and anyhow, I didn’t have much say in the result.

Today however I received my AFS, which stands for Art Fact Sheet.  Before today I didn’t know these even existed.  I don’t know how I thought book covers came about.  I think I just assumed someone would magically look into my brain and make it up from there (or, I dunno, read the book).  Instead I get to fill in a very detailed document asking for what the characters look like, wear, any other visual elements and so on.  It’s all rather fun.

I have a very clear picture in my head what the characters look like, especially my hero -who wouldn’t, that’s half the fun of writing.  Of course he isn’t just one person (though Tom Ellis in Merlin comes pretty close).

Like a latter day, and slightly less gruesome, graverobber I’ve stolen bits of various different people.  So he’s got J*’s lovely blue eyes, the dark, floppy curls that belong to K, that way of looking through his eyelashes that L does, the slightly crooked smile belonging to M, and so on.  Which is all rather lovely in my head but probably less than useful for an art department.  I’m half tempted to get a load of photos and make a collage but the resulting image would be more likely to send readers screaming for the hills than swooning with lust.

So I’ll fill in my sheet and attach plenty of links to photos online and wait with antic…pation to see what they come up with.

*why do X, Y and Z always get all the fun!