Spotlight - Em Taylor

Hi everyone!

Today please welcome the lovely Em Taylor.  Em writes luscious Regency romances – Saved By a Rake, Restoring Lady Anna and A Desperate Wager.

Em was born and brought up in the Central Belt of Scotland and still lives there. She was told as a child she had an over active imagination--as if that is a bad thing. She's traded her dreams of owning her own island, just like George in the Famous Five to hoping to meet her own Mr Darcy one day. But her imagination remains the same.

http://romanticregency.weebly.com/

So could you please tell us why you write Regency romance?

I started writing Regency romances because I fell in love with the era from reading books by Mary Balogh and Lynsay Sands. I loved the decadence of the time. Sure, the decadence was only for the rich but most Regency novels centre around the lives of the rich. I also love that they had their own rules about how a young lady should behave and the terrible hypocrisy of gentlemen who could carouse all night, bed courtesans and widows and not be deemed damaged goods. While a young girl even being caught in a room alone with a gentleman caused scandal . In some ways it is so different to today and yet double standards still exist.

Of course, writing about Colin Firth look-a-likes in tight fitting breeches, top boots and cravats also has its advantages. 

Oops, sorry I was a little distracted by the thought of tight fitting breeches, top boots and cravats. J

There are snippets and blurbs from all of Em’s books listed below– Enjoy!

Thanks so much Em for visiting and I’m certainly looking forward to your upcoming story – The St. Nicholas Day Wager which will be released in December.

Thanks for stopping by.

Nicóle xx

 

A Desperate Wager

Nathaniel Spencer, the Fourteenth Duke of Kirkbourne wakes up with an almighty hangover and a wager note in his pocket stating he has agreed to marry the Earl of Brackingham’s daughter. And he can’t even remember ever meeting the chit. Clearly his drinking has got out of hand.

Lady Sarah Steele is horrified when her father announces that the Duke of Kirkbourne has agreed to marry her and even more horrified that her father wagered her hand in a game of cards. Not only that, but the earl has not told the duke of the riding accident that left Sarah paralysed when she was sixteen.  But he’s dying and she knows he wants to see her settled before the inevitable happens.

Despite Nate’s drinking and Sarah’s possible complicity in the earl’s plan, they agree to marry. But when accidents start to happen, the newly-weds must deal not only with the fact they are practically strangers, but they must find out who is trying to kill one or both of them. Nate’s drink problem and Sarah’s disability are only a couple of the hurdles they must face to find lasting love.

 

EXCERPT

Nathaniel Spencer, fourteenth Duke of Kirkbourne groaned and rolled over in bed. A tattoo beat a steady rhythm inside his skull, his stomach was bilious and the world spun at an alarming rate.

Last night he had been in his cups—again. He knew he should take a more moderate attitude to alcohol but recently, staying sober had seemed somewhat pointless. Why stay sober if you were just going to end up dead at the side of the road—another silly young buck who had killed himself in a curricle race?

Damn Crosby! Why had he made the damned challenge? Nathaniel, or Nate as he preferred to be called, would never forget Crosby’s lifeless eyes staring up at him, or the crack of the pistol as a bystander put his horses out of their misery. And he would never forgive himself for being the man whom Crosby was racing.

Nate closed his eyes and willed his stomach to stop churning as he tried to recall the events of the night before. He had been at White’s for dinner and had moved to the card room. The brandy had been flowing, and Ormsby had suggested moving on to a less reputable gaming hell. He remembered the Earl of Brackingham tagging along for some reason that defied Nate.

He had no issue with Brackingham, but the earl was at least twenty years the senior of everyone else in their party. He had been coughing somewhat alarmingly, Nate recalled. He hoped the old man was not spreading disease around. The last thing Nate needed was to be laid up in bed—his mother fussing around him and pouring vile-tasting concoctions down his throat. There was another thing that took many young, seemingly healthy lives—fever. Curricles and fever—good reasons to get absolutely foxed if ever he needed any.

Brackingham! The name seemed to be prodding his tired and very painful brain—waiting for him to remember something significant from last night. He had a vague memory of playing vingt et un with him. There had been a ludicrous bet. Brackingham wagered his daughter’s hand and if Nate lost, he would have to marry the girl.

Nate had been on a winning streak. Bravado and alcohol made him foolish. He had a three and a queen. He sat up as the king of diamonds flashed before his eyes.

God, damn it.

The king of diamonds took him to twenty-three. His head swum and he tamped down the urge to cast up his accounts. Twenty-three. But surely a wager like that was a joke. It had to be. Brackingham did not expect him to marry his chit of a daughter, did he? Had he even set eyes on the girl before?

Again, some piece of information about the girl needled his brain. He had no recollection of dancing with her at balls. But then he hardly ever danced at balls. He had no plans to seek a leg-shackle on the marriage mart, so he steered clear and spent most of the evening in the card room.

God, he hoped she was at least old enough to have had her come out and this was not some medieval plan to marry a thirteen-year-old off to him. Eighteen was quite young enough—too young in his rather jaded opinion.

But no. He had no recollection of ever having set eyes on Lady… Lady what? He had no idea.

He fished in the pocket of his waistcoat, which he still wore, having obviously been so foxed when he had returned that he had either shooed his valet away or he had arrived so late the valet had been asleep. There was a note. A wager. He hoped he owed the man a vast fortune instead.

Marry Lady Sarah Steele. Dowry - £10,000. Meet Brackingham on 5^th day of March to make arrangements.

Today must be the fifth of March. Yesterday had definitely been the fourth. Christ, he had to see if this was a big joke or, if not, was there any way he could inveigle his way out of it. He had no plans to marry. None at all. And that was that.

Amazon -

http://a-fwd.com/asin=B00JZQA1RM

 

Restoring Lady Anna

When Lord James Eversley is accused of a murder he did not commit, he dresses up as his new brother-in-law’s footman and hitches a ride in their carriage out of town. When it seems they are no longer being followed he begins to relax until a minor accident causes them to stop at a shabby looking inn. As his “master” and his sister sip tea in the scruffy parlour, James comes face to face with Lady Anna, the woman who left him in the dead of night five years before and a familiar looking child. 

Lady Anna has accepted her life as Mrs Johnstone, mother of four-year-old Viola, “wife” of Peter, the mentally ill former footman and land lady of a shabby inn on the Great North Road. Her plans for a love match with the handsome Lord Eversley were cruelly snatched away from her five years before. Her ruination means there is no opportunity to return to her family or the ton. When James turns up, dressed as a footman and demanding answers, Anna must decide whether to tell the truth. 

James never stopped loving Anna and now he must learn what happened that fateful night that Anna left him heartbroken. With the truth out in the open, he must convince the love of his life to take a chance on him. He wants to marry her and restore her reputation among the aristocracy. But in Regency England reputations are easily lost and difficult to regain. Can Anna trust James enough to do what is right for Peter, despite his actions, her child and most importantly himself? Can James convince Anna to seek the help that Peter needs and return to the ton? 

 

 

EXCERPT

“Why did you leave?” he asked.

“I...I... did not have a choice.”

“Were you in love with him?”

“No.” She should lie. She knew she should, but his light blue eyes seemed to bore holes into her very soul and she could not bear to hurt him further. She could not bear to have him think badly of her.

“Then I do not understand why you left. Was it... was... God dammit.” He took a large gulp of his ale and looked around before leaning close. “Was it the bedding? I know you were an innocent and it must have hurt but...”

“No.” She shook her head fervently. Could he really believe that the best night of her life had driven her from him? “That night... it was very special. You were wonderful and kind and caring. I could not have asked for a better lover the first time.”

Relief washed over his countenance before he frowned. “Then why?”

Should she tell him? Could she? “It is too complicated to explain, except to say that it was not my choice and it was not your fault.”

He pushed his long fingers through his blond curls and stared into his ale. “Is he—the footman—still alive?”

“Yes.” He looked into her eyes—the hope that had shone there moments before was gone.

“So you are married.”

“We never married.”

“You live in sin?”

“Yes. I refused to marry him—not even to give my daughter a name. I tell people I am Mrs Johnstone, but there are no legal documents and no marriage. Therefore, you can return to the ton, my lord, and tell them that Lady Anna Kingsley is a whore and has a bastard child.”

Now perhaps he would leave her alone to her miserable life and find someone who would make a proper countess when his father died. She swallowed hard, forcing back the tears. Willed herself to stay strong. She only had to stay strong until the damned ostlers could help Lord Ramsey’s horse.

“Shh! I will be returning to the ton to tell them no such thing. I wished you would tell me what actually happened, if for no other reason than to assuage my fear that it was something I did or said that drove you away. You said you have a daughter?”

“Yes. Viola. She is a pretty little thing but can be quite precocious when she wants to be. She would have made a beautiful debutante when her time came.”

“Mama. Who is this?” She turned to see Viola standing at her side and realised it had been the child who was tugging at her skirts.

 

****

James stared at the little girl standing next to Anna, tugging on the grey wool skirt. Blond hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks that reminded him of Rebecca when she was small. She even had the little turn up in her nose that was identical to his sister’s. But, it could not be. This child could not be his? They had made love but once—or at least just one night. But he had not withdrawn as he knew he should. He had been too caught up in the moment—in their love. Had Anna fallen with child that one glorious night, how old would a child be? Three? No—four! Was this little girl four? He had no idea how large or small a child should be at the age of four. He did not come into contact with many children.

But he did not have to ask her age. His sight told him that Viola was his as did something else…instinct perhaps?

He schooled his features so they were unreadable. Years of training to be a gentleman, to show no outward emotion, were now paying dividends.

“This is Lord Eversley, a friend of mine.”

“Oh. Pleased to meet you Lord Evasey.” She bobbed a small curtsey, and he noted that she over extended her back leg a bit like the actors did in the theatre at the curtain call. It was very sweet. The child obviously did not meet many members of the aristocracy. Though it was just like Anna to have taught her daughter to act like a lady in preparation for meeting a viscount or even a duke.

“Very pleased to meet you too, Viola.” She smiled dazzlingly at him. It really was like being taken back in time to when Rebecca was a child.

“Mama, he’s awake. I heard him shouting.”

“I see.” She turned to James. “I need to go just now. I have things that must be attended to.” Anna stood and looked like she was about to bob a curtsey but seemed to the think better of it, probably remembering he was supposed to be a footman.

He watched her leave, Viola’s hand in hers. He had sired a daughter and all this time he never knew. He did not need Anna to tell him that Viola was his flesh and blood—he knew it with every fibre of his being. If he said it outright, would Anna lie? Could she lie about something as monumental as him having a child? Not the Anna he once knew. But she was harder now—more resilient. He saw it in her eyes. Even though he had sensed she had been on the edge of tears, he suspected Mrs Anna Johnstone did not cry very often. But he must allow Anna to tell him in her own time. There was a lot more to this than a silly lady having her head turned by a handsome footman.

Was the person who had just woken the footman? Why had Viola looked unhappy when she had to announce the footman was awake? And why was Anna the one working in the taproom?

He would find out, and he would not leave this place until he knew the whole truth and certainly he would not leave without his daughter.

 

http://www.amazon.com/Restoring-Lady-Anna-Em-Taylor-ebook/dp/B00JZQA1RM/ref=asap_B00GVEG83M_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1412901201&sr=1-4

 

 

Saved By a Rake

When Lady Rebecca Eversley is left ravished by the Earl of Newthorpe and facing ruination, she has the choice to point her pretty little nose in the air and face the gossips of the Ton or scurry off to the country to live out her life as an old maid. When she meets Lord Daniel Ramsey, a notorious rake, she decides on the former course of action.

Daniel has been given an ultimatum, marry before his father dies or lose the majority of his inheritance money. Rebecca seems the perfect candidate, especially once rumours about her start to circulate in the drawing rooms of Mayfair.

When Newthorpe is found dead on the morning of their wedding, the people they care about find themselves suspects in the case. Who murdered Newthorpe and can Rebecca ever get over what he did to her?

 

EXCERPT

The dance was called. It would be a waltz. Rebecca flushed slightly as he approached.

“Oh, Lord Ramsey. I am not sure a waltz is the most appropriate dance tonight?”

“The waltz is not to your taste, Lady Rebecca?”

“Oh I love to waltz. It’s just…” She blushed deeper and fumbled with her fan. He leaned close.

“As you know, the gossips like fresh news every day to discuss at their morning visits. I would suggest that we give them something other than the Earl of Newthorpe to discuss.”

Her eyes widened—then she smiled and accepted his arm to be led into their first waltz together.

He twirled her onto the floor before snaking his gloved hand around her waist. She stiffened and he moved backwards instinctually. Then she relaxed again as she looked up into his eyes. She placed her hand on his shoulder and her other was placed in his hand.

“All right?” he murmured as he considered faking a twisted ankle if it looked like she was going to freeze again. He had no doubt that, after her ordeal, she had no wish to be touched by a large, strong and virile man, even if half the ton was in attendance at this ball.
The music started and she nodded before taking a deep breath and allowing him to lead her around the floor.

 He would have wished to dance slightly further apart than was strictly necessary in order to give her the space she obviously desired but, as always was the case with the supper dance, the dance floor was busy.

He gripped her waist and pulled her closer as he turned her effortlessly before waltzing her past the open French windows. He asked her about her home this time, in an effort to take her mind off their close contact and keep her at her ease.

As she relaxed into telling him about Chapelbrooke, her back became less rigid and her movements more fluid.  He had to concentrate on her words to distract himself from the feel of her ball gown brushing gently against his own ankle every time he turned her. He could have quite happily danced with her all night, listening to enchanting stories of her girlhood and gleaning small bits of information with which to tease Eversley for years to come.

http://www.amazon.com/Saved-Rake-Em-Taylor-ebook/dp/B00GTA9WS6/ref=asap_B00GVEG83M_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1412901201&sr=1-2