Welcome! Please introduce yourself and tell us about your latest release.
Hi, I’m a multi-pubbed author, now working on my eighteenth book. My romantic paranormals are with Cerridwen Press , and they just released no. four in Mage series. I also just had a great historical just released by RedRosePublishing. Love this one to pieces.
Have you ever had an idea for a story which scared you after you began writing it?
Yes, but it hasn’t been placed yet. It’s called For Love and I are New, another long historical but the beginning is so dark I think I have to rewrite it a little.
Have you incorporated actual events from your own life into your books?
I think any writer does that unconsciously all the time. Can’t pin an instance down though.
How much research do you do? Do you research first and then write, or do you write first, then research as needed?
I do tons of research. And I do it first, needing to get the general feel for the book in my head before I start. Of course all through another point will come up that calls for more research, but basically I do it before starting to write. Just like I do a character sketch for each main character before I start. I need about six weeks thinking and researching before I put a word down.
Is there any message you want readers to take from reading your work?
Love makes everything possible.
Are you a plotter or a pantser? And have you ever had a story take on a life of its own?
I’m a little of both. Generally do a chapter outline with the first few chapters well in mind, as well as the ending. But then the book itself tells me where to go next. Sometimes I have a meltdown though in the dreaded middle of the book, though. That can be rough to work out of, and once in a while a character will get bossy and lead me out of it.
How long did it take for you to be published?
Three years, or more.
If you could go back and tell yourself anything when you first began your writing career, what would you say?
Be better prepared for doing a LOT of promo-ing. Get your website up and running.
Laptop or pen and ink? What are your ‘must-haves’ when writing?
I do notes in the car or at night when I wake up, rather cryptic but on paper. Basic writing is all done on computer. My handwriting is so bad there’s no way I do it all my pen. Nobody in the world could read it, not even me.
Who are your favorite authors? Who would you say influenced you the most?
Mary Balogh, Jennifer Cruisie, Linda Needham, Jennifer Blake. Mary Balogh with her wonderful insights into her characters has inspired me with awe and envy.
What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?
Probably that I’ve fought all my life to overcome shyness. Promo is hard, hard, hard for me.
Favorite Fourth of July tradition?
Watching the Capitol Fourth fireworks on telly.
Mountains or Beach?
Can’t pick. Love them both
Favorite amusement park ride?
None, really. I don’t do well with crowds.
Any Summer Festivals you like to attend?
Used to adore the Berkshire Music Festival, but now it’s too far from my home in California. Now there’s good Pop concerts down in Mission Bay here in San Diego.
If you’re writing a Christmas-themed story, how do you get ‘in the mood’?
Gosh, can’t answer that either. Never did a Christmas themed story. Since I adore Xmas though shouldn’t think it would be hard.
Thank you for being here today! Please tell us where we can find your books.
The Third Rose by Jean Hart Stewart
Available now at Red Rose Publishing
Sara accosts Lord Wolverton in his bedroom late at night with the intent to shooting him in the groin so he’d never again rape an innocent girl. Fortunately Wolf overpowers her, since she finds he is not the villain she seeks. They embark together on a hunt to find the real rapist. Then the spy Wolf is also seeking turns his vengeance on Sara. Wolf needs her help to decode a cryptic message about ‘the third rose’ and track down the spy. He fears for her safety and yet knows he needs her help.
The spy hunt turns desperate and Sara and Wolf find themselves hurrying to
Was the blasted rotter ever going to come home? She didn’t want him arriving so intoxicated he wouldn’t realize why she was shooting him.
Sara peered from behind her hiding place as she heard someone enter. Another servant! Not the depraved Earl. At least not yet. There’d been no activity since a housemaid entered the room and turned down the bed linens. A long time ago and Sara’s stiffness was beginning to worry her.
The servant checked the level of wine in the decanter by the bed, then turned away. Sara’s vision wasn’t the best as she peered through the slit where the draperies almost met. At least she could focus on the main point of interest. The bed. Presumably when my Lord Wolverton finally came home he’d make for that overlarge, comfortable appearing bed.
Sara shifted her position slightly. She’d not realized standing so long could be so tiring. Or that heavy drapes would be so stifling. She flexed the fingers on each hand, working her muscles and passing the gun from one hand to the other. She was an equally good marksman with either. Or should she say markswoman? At least her irresponsible father taught her well in this respect.
She sobered immediately. Blast and damn to her wandering thoughts. She must concentrate on her mission. To maim, and perhaps kill, a man known to his friends as Wolf. To make sure he never raped again.
She heard a click as the door handle turned.
At last. The bastard had come home. He must have lit more candles, as the room became brighter. She could see a large man, elegantly dressed, stride across the room. Double drat! He moved out of her vision, and she did not dare part the draperies any further. She waited, breath suspended, as he re-appeared and sat on the bed. He arched one long muscled leg, bending over to tug at his boot. His face was in shadow, but his build was powerful, that of a more than adequate sportsman. His size didn’t worry her. A gun was a great equalizer.
He meant to take his boots off himself? She was surprised he didn’t require his valet to wait up for him. An unusual bit of consideration for a servant, one she’d not expected. She’d thought she’d have to stay hidden until the valet had come and gone. Perhaps this was better, since at least he was decently clothed. Not that she’d let any missish tendencies deter her. Actually seeing a large nude male might be educational.
Now was the time.
She cocked the gun and stepped out in front of him, the barrel pointed directly at him.
“You will please rise, my lord. I don’t intend to shoot a seated villain.” She felt pride in the composure of her voice. She’d worried a little about that.
Wolverton did not appear unduly upset, although his eyebrows arched upward. He bent the long leg stretched on the bed and clasped both hands around his knee.
“A woman. How interesting. I admit you make a very fetching young man dressed in those breeches, but your voice is definitely female. Might I inquire why you have your gun pointed at me?”
She had to give him his due. His tone seemed as cool as hers, and she certainly must have been a nasty surprise. Although come to think of it, he probably often found women accosting him in his bedchamber. But surely for more pleasurable purposes, cad that he was.
“Stand up, my lord.”
Neither her voice nor the hand holding the gun on him wavered, as Joshua Sinclair, Earl of Wolverton, slowly placed both his boots on the luxurious Aubusson carpet and rose to his feet.
“Is there anything I can do for you, madam?” he inquired, as politely as if he were asking her if she took milk with her tea.
She shook her head slowly, carefully lowering the gun a trifle. What a shame he was such a handsome devil, but then she should have expected no less from a despoiler of virgins.
She was pleased to see him blanch a little as he realized where she aimed.
“Can I persuade you to raise your gun a little? I don’t mind being shot in the chest nearly as much as if you hit the most valued part of my anatomy.”
Again she gave him credit. He seemed remarkably self- possessed; no pleading, no ranting, just civilized conversation. As if they were at a blasted tea.
“I am aiming precisely where I wish to aim, my lord. And I’m a good shot. You will ruin no more girls like Samantha.”