Please help me welcome Collette Cameron to the blog. She agreed to settle in for an interview. I had such a good time getting to know her a little better and I think you’ll enjoy learning more about her as well as her latest release Heartbreak and Honor.
Afterward, don’t forget to check out her blurb, excerpt, and of course enter her giveaway 🙂
Let’s get started …
What 5 words describe you best?
Funny, organized, dachshund-lover, introverted, intelligent.
Love it! When did you know you wanted to be an author?
Umm, I hate to confess this, but I didn’t know I wanted to be an author until I started writing my first book and fell in love with writing.
Now , I kick myself I didn’t start sooner.
What was your first thought when you saw the book cover for Heartbreak and Honor?
I was giddy!! The cover artist absolutely captured the essence of the story and the hero and heroine.
It’s an awesome cover 🙂 What makes your book stand out from others in the same genre?
This is a cross genre romance. I have a Scottish heroine and a British hero. Actually, the entire series is Scottish Regencies, hence the series title, Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series.
Of course my signature humor is interspersed throughout. I can’t help myself!
I always enjoy a book with humor 🙂 What’s the one scene from your book that stands out in your mind as being your favorite to write?
I have scene in the beginning of the book where Tasara punches Lucan and gives him a black eye when he stole a kiss. Then he has to explain how he came by it.
That definitely intrigues me. What’s the first paragraph in your book?
Agonized screams and raucous shouts penetrated the stout door Tasara pressed her ear against. Did friend or foe attack her Scottish captors? She hugged the arched entrance closer, straining to hear. The wood scraped her face, and her unbound hair tumbled forward, snagging on a splinter. Her drumming pulse and the blood whooshing in her ears further muffled the skirmish below.
Would you like to tell us what you’re working on now?
I’m writing Schemes Gone Amiss, the second book in my Conundrums of the Misses Culpepper series. I really let my humor go in these Regencies!
I also have a boxed set releasing in January and an anthology releasing in February.
Readers can also look for the next two books in the Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series, the third book in the Conundrums of the Misses Culpeppers, and another Waltz with a Rogue Novella.
RANDOM FUN: FINISH THIS SENTENCE…
When I was a kid I always wanted to go explore castles.
I’m excited for 2016 because I’m not teaching anymore.
For breakfast I usually just have coffee with pumpkin spice creamer.
My kitchen is my second favorite room in my house.
I can’t leave my house without my cell phone.
If I won the lotto the first thing I’d do is pay off my children’s student loans.
Abducted by a band of renegade Scots, Highland gypsy Tasara Faas doesn’t hesitate to blacken the eye of her rescuer when the charming duke attempts to steal a kiss. Afterward, Tasara learns she’s the long-lost heiress Alexandra Atterberry and is expected to take her place among the elite society she’s always disdained.
Lucan, the Duke of Harcourt, promised his gravely ill mother he’d procure a wife by Christmastide, but intrigued by the feisty lass he saved in Scotland, he finds the haut ton ladies lacking. Spying Alexa at a London ball, he impulsively decides to make the knife-wielding gypsy his bride despite her aversion to him and her determination to return to the Highlands.
The adversary responsible for Alexa’s disappearance as a toddler still covets her fortune and joins forces with Harcourt’s arch nemesis. Amidst a series of suspicious misfortunes, Lucan endeavors to win Alexa’s love and expose the conspirators but only succeeds in reaffirming Alexa’s belief that she is inadequate to become his duchess.
A click announced the lock giving way.
Creaking on unoiled hinges, the door edged open, inch-by-cautious-inch, and as it did, the brutal sounds from below filtered into the chamber. Light from the corridor’s brackets illumined a sinister, black-clad form.
A disheveled man paused at the threshold, his coat unbuttoned and a pistol protruding from his waistband. In one hand, he held a sword at the ready, and in the other, he brandished a dirk. Legs braced, he stood at the entrance like a buccaneer balancing atop a ship’s deck.
A pirate in the Scottish Highlands?
She blinked, slapping aside the ridiculous notion. Lack of food and sleep made her imagination run amuck.
For a tormenting instant, Tasara feared the ethereal body Satan himself, except she doubted the devil possessed pale blond hair and required blades to inflict mortal damage.
Fallen angel seemed more apt for the apparition illumined within the doorway.
She strained to see the man’s face. The dim interior hid his features except for a well-defined profile and a strong jawline. Evil men weren’t supposed to be attractive.
Stance wide, and her hand lifted to bury her knife, she waited for the intruder to move away from the door’s protection.
She must defend the children, no matter the cost.
“Tathara?” Lala’s plaintive cry filled the chamber. “Piuthar, where be ye?”
The man’s head whipped toward the bed.
The bedding rustled, and a tear-logged voice whimpered, “Me be ascared. I hearded screaming.”
Advancing farther into the room, the intruder looked this way and that. Light from the passageway spilled across the threshold but failed to reach the bed or the room’s outer edges.
“A child? Might have told me,” he muttered in a clipped British accent while sheathing his weapons. “No matter, I suppose. A female’s a female.”
My God, what did the debauched knave intend?
The same loathsome things the Scots threatened?
Not as long as Tasara’s heart pumped, he wouldn’t. She shifted, ready to spring. A wee bit farther and she’d have a clear target. He would taste her blade before he laid one finger upon Lala.
The man faced the bed and extended his arms. “Come, sweeting, let’s be about it then. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
How dare he, the loathsome degenerate? Tasara made an inarticulate noise.
He whirled, his body tense and alert.
“Tathara!” Terror resonated in Lala’s high-pitched cry.
Tasara lunged, swinging the blade in an arc intended for his neck. “Depraved sot.”
Ducking, he leaped away, her dagger slicing air instead of flesh. Half-crouched and keenly alert, he regarded her.
“Ah, the gypsy wench I expected.” Straightening, and apparently unperturbed at practically being skewered, he pointed at her dagger. “I do believe you tried to impale me. Most ungrateful of you, I must say.”