I've always been just a little bit stubborn. Call me principled or hard-headed, but I tend to do things my own way. For example, medieval romances are much scarcer than they once were--maybe all those vampire brotherhoods horned in on the knight-hero's territory? But when I sat down to write the follow-up to my Robin Hood-themed debut, What a Scoundrel Wants, I somehow got it in my brain to set Scoundrel's Kiss in Spain.
Medieval Spain.
The Kingdom of Castile, to be exact.
Why? Once the idea fired up inside my imagination, I couldn't let it go. Maybe writing a warrior monk hero just sounded intriguing and sexy to me at the time. Imagine all the training and hard-earned experience of a warrior, but all the humility and, ahem, self-control of a monk. Talk about conflict!
Oh, and did I mention that the heroine is addiction to opium?
So I knew from the early moments of this book's conception that I was being stubborn again. But I couldn't help it. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my hard-headed labor!
EXCERPT:
Gavriel brushed his mouth along the curve of her shoulder. She shuddered but did not pull away. The moist heat of his breath raised goose bumps on her skin and reflected back against his face. He waited, glorying in that intimate caress, knowing he would take her if he tasted her.
"Order me to go," he rasped.
Ada looked over her shoulder. He let his eyes fall down the line of her brow and her cheeks and her chin. "I won't do that," she said.
"Why not?" The need to touch her again burned like hell's fires. "No respectable woman behaves as you do."
"We both know I left respectable behind some time ago."
"Then you do this as a game or as punishment."
"You're mistaken if you believe this involves you alone." She spoke with less deliberation and more speed. "Perhaps I do this simply to see what I'll do next. I hardly know who I am anymore. It makes me wonder."
He reached out to trace the line of her shoulder blade but pulled back. "Wonder what?"
"Am I the kind of woman to seduce you outright, or will I wait for you? Either way, you've become a most welcome distraction."
"Ada, don't--"
"You think you've cured me because I no longer shake or cry," she said. "But in that you're mistaken. The need is still here. Right here." She clenched one hand over the other and pressed it to the hollow between her breasts. "It's like thirst or hunger or lust. A need. Can you understand that?"
He could only nod, a weak one at that. A delicious and wanton angel stood before him, his own parable of temptation. The redness of the hot spring had faded, leaving the smoothest white porcelain skin--a feast for his eyes. But he wanted more. No matter his aims or his vows, he was a man who needed more.
"I can understand," he said thickly.
"Then help me, Gavriel. Give me something new to crave."
BIO: Born in California, raised in the Midwest, Carrie Lofty met her husband in England—the best souvenir! Since earning her master’s degree in history, she’s been devoted to raising two precocious daughters and writing romance. Her January release, Scoundrel’s Kiss, is the sequel to her Robin Hood-themed debut, What a Scoundrel Wants. This June, Carrie’s sensual tale of two lovelorn musicians in Napoleonic Austria will launch Carina Press, Harlequin’s new all-digital venture. With Ann Aguirre, she co-writes hot’n’dirty apocalyptic pararnormal romances as Ellen Connor.
www.carrielofty.com / www.ellenconnor.com / Follow: http://twitter.com/carrielofty
2009
