Oh, readers are you in for a treat today! Lauren Smith is releasing another book, and I had the immense pleasure of getting a sneak preview. Today, Bastian and Jane are visiting the Blue Rose Writing Room.
Character Interview for Bastian and Jane
I anxiously waited in the lavishly decorated Egyptian room as Lord Weymouth and his fiancé Jane enter. They had graciously agreed to meet with me to discuss their unique story and how the ghosts of Stormclyffe Hall had brought them together. The first thing that struck me was how lovely they look together. I suppose it is more the way they look at each other, how they seem to move in sync and react like two halves of the same whole. They took their seats opposite me and smiled.
“We’re ready when you are.” Lord Weymouth said.
“Thank you, my lord,” I stammer, a little nervous. He was an earl after all.
“Please, call him Bastian,” Jane insisted with a naughty wink at her love. “He likes to act all stuffy and proper, but he likes us Americans. Do you?” She nudged him in the ribs with an elbow and he grinned down at her.
“I suppose I do like you colonists, don’t I?” He chuckled. “Yes, call me Bastian.”
“Very well.” I clicked my pen and folded to a crisp blank sheet in my notebook…
Me: Bastian, what made you think by restoring Stormclyffe Hall, the tragedies that had mysteriously plagued your family for generations would cease?
Bastian ran his hand over his jaw as he debated on answering. “My family has lived in this place for hundreds of years. We were born here, died here, but the most important part of it is that we lived here. It is my home and yet it felt broken to me. My ancestors have endured so much loss and I couldn’t begin to think of giving the hall up after everything they had sacrificed. Perhaps,” he chuckled wryly, “if I can fix it, the place won’t hold such bad memories, or bear the taint of the past.”
Me: Did you believe any of the gossips surrounding the hall? Had your family ever expressed any concerns?
Bastian rolled his eyes. “Of course there are concerns, like any good family, we don’t like rumors abounding over our family and its history. But once a rumor ignites, we cannot change much of what follows. I believe the important thing is getting to the kernel of truth.” He turned to flash Jane a smile. “That’s what good historians do best, isn’t it.” When he winked at her, Jane covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Me: Jane, I have to tell you, that I’d have hightailed it back to America as fast as I could if I’d encountered what you did when you first laid eyes on Bastian. Can you share a little bit about that, er, unusual experience?
A heavy blush works its way across Jane’s cheeks. “You mean what happened to us in the library?”
I nod.
“Er, right. Well, after the nightmares I kept having, I was still frightened, but not surprised when something seemed to take me over from the inside out. It’s terrifying to be a prisoner in your own body while someone is behind the controls. Richard was using us both.” She reached for Bastian’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “He was trapped in the hall and couldn’t reach Isabelle, and when he saw me, he couldn’t hold back. He jumped into Bastian and things just sort of snowballed. The passion between us was there, but we never would have done that so quickly if it hadn’t been for Richard.”
“Not that I wouldn’t have minded, darling, you were damned adorable.” Bastian leaned over and kissed her cheek, following it with a wicked grin.
Me: Bastian, forgive me, but you’re the stereotypical playboy. Rich, handsome…you’ve led a privileged life and dated many sophisticated women. What attracted you to Jane? I means, she’s not your usual choice of companion.
The earl looked a little amused at my question. Jane stared at him, lips pursed as she waited to see how he would answer.
“Every woman before Jane was a shell, a temporary fix for my loneliness. I couldn’t talk to those women, couldn’t bear my soul to them, not like I can with Jane. They were safe choices. But love,” he paused, meeting my gaze directly. “Love shouldn’t be safe. It’s a wild ride, a desperate risk that you take and you can only pray you are fortunate enough to be loved in return. Jane was my risk. I wanted to know every little thought that passed through her mind, I wanted to sing with her and dance. Lord, I love dancing with her. She’s not perfect, not like the women I’ve dated in the past, but that’s what makes her real. She’s better than perfect. I love the way her nose wrinkles when she is frustrated with me. The way she steals blankets at night. I love all of her.”
At his answer, Jane had relaxed, her eyes softening and her sight seeming far away as she curled her arm around his. I couldn’t help but wonder what her secret thoughts were in that moment. Was she remembering all of the times they’d shared together as they’d fallen in love?
Me: Jane, were you more mesmerized with Stormclyffe or Bastian in the beginning? What about after you’d stayed there for a couple of days and gotten to know him better? Which was the greater allure then?
Jane sat up a little straighter. “That’s a tricky question. I’d been having dreams about Stormclyffe for a while before I came here. It’s what drove me to the castle in the first place. I had to solve the mystery of Isabelle’s death, but when I learned Bastian was the current heir, well he had me intrigued. Even if he was a rich playboy.” A little twinkle gleamed in her eyes as she teased him.
“But to answer your question, after that explosive kiss in the library, I felt connected to him. I sensed his own lost soul tied to mine. He was searching for things, as I was and we needed each other. I had to stay and help him. Help Stormclyffe.” She laughed a little. “It didn’t hurt that he was an English god.” She winked at me and I laughed too.
Me: You both experience supernatural events. Can you each share just a bit what that was like?
Bastian spoke. “I didn’t believe any of it at first. I thought my workmen were suffering from superstitious natures and letting the town gossip get to them. But after nearly losing Jane to her jumping off the wall, I was having trouble dispelling thoughts of Stormclyffe not being haunted. It was the most terrifying sight to see her at the top of those battlements, ready to leap to her death.” He shuddered and drew Jane closer to him. “A damned nightmare. It was exactly as Richard had written in his diary. I hated that I could not slay her dragons because I could not see them.”
“I was possessed by Cordelia. Twice. It was terrifying. It was like she blacked out all sense of myself and I could only see what she wanted me to see and do what she wanted me to do. There wasn’t much I could do. Her will became mine in the worst horrible way. She wanted me to kill myself. It was awful.” Jane’s eyes were bright with tears not yet shed. “I’m a strong person, but when true evil gets a hold of you, you can’t always fight it.”
Me: When did you first start to realize it was your ancestors communicating with you, Bastian? What was that like?
Bastian stood up from the couch and walked over to one of the bookshelves on the side of the room. He plucked a small book, a leather bound one, from the shelf and handed it over to me. I flipped through the pages and realized it was a diary.
“Is this Richard’s?” I asked, dumbfounded that they would hand me something so precious to them.
“Yes. It was after I touched that, when I started having the dreams as though I were Richard. The first time I put my hands on that book, a little electric shock when through me. After that, I dreamed a lot from his perspective. It was unnerving to be in another man’s head.”
Me: Jane, did you feel an affinity for Isabelle? Were you compelled to help her, despite the danger?
Jane nodded. “She and I were very close. She was reaching out to me through my dreams. I was living her nightmare of dying on the cliffs every night and I knew she’d been murdered, could feel the hands at my back, invisible hands, pushing me off into the abyss and I had to figure out who did it and why. If nothing else, I hoped it would put her spirit to rest.
Me: Jane and Bastian, your attraction to each other is quite apparent from the very beginning. When did you suspect it was becoming something more serious?
Jane shot a glance at Bastian, her cheeks pinkening. “I knew when he kissed me that night in the kitchen after we survived the fight in the town, that there was something more between us, at least for me. That kiss undid me. I felt a thousand different things in his arms and I knew I wanted things I didn’t think I could ever have.”
I waited for Bastian to answer.
He swallowed hard. “When Jane told me about her dreams and I could see she was trusting me not to do what her first fiancé Tim did and walk out on her, that was trust. Trusting someone always makes thinks more complicated and more serious. I wanted to protect her, to show her that I wouldn’t be like Tim, but at the same I knew I had to push her away to keep her safe. I was torn because things had become too serious. I loved her but had to protect her and there was not easy solution where I didn’t have to send her away too.”
Me: Do you think Richard and Isabelle wanted you two to be together? That perhaps they knew what your fates were and orchestrated events to help you along?
Jane smiled. “I think they did want us to be together. They drew us closer and wove a spell over us that we couldn’t escape, not until we got to know each other enough to love each other. I think Isabelle knew all along that Bastian and I together could defeat Cordelia and give Isabelle and Richard the peace they deserved.”
Me: The timeless love Richard and Isabelle had for one another was so gripping. What was it like to experience someone else’s love, for surely when they possessed you, you each must have felt their emotions.
For a long moment neither Jane nor Bastian spoke. They gazed at each other, lost in memories I could only guess at.
“It was beautiful and tragic,” Jane whispered. “They loved each other so much and lost their future before it had even begun. It breaks my heart every time I think about it,” her voice broke.
Bastian curled his body around hers, hugging her close as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Shhh. It’s all right,” he soothed her. I felt as though I were watching something private and personal and was intruding on them.
“Shhh. It’s all right,” he soothed her. I felt as though I were watching something private and personal and was intruding on them.
“In many ways,” he said, “it’s a raw wound for the both of us. To know how much they loved each other and how quickly the lost their lives without a chance to live them. It hurts us both.”
The pain, so evident in their faces and their voices, forced me to change the subject.
Me: So, Jane, what’s it like being a ‘lady’ now? How has that changed your life?
Jane brightened at my question. “Being a lady? It’s interesting. There’s a lot more social gatherings I have to go to, but since Bastian’s with me, it’s easy. Plus, his mother is a real sweetheart. She gets me through all the royalty nonsense that would totally confuse me otherwise. I have to say though, the perks are nice. Stormclyffe is all ours and I get to rummage through all the family documents since I’m soon to be part of the family.”
Bastian barked out a laugh. “Cheeky little thing,” he muttered and shook his head before he looked at me. “She’s always after my papers. This is what happens when you marry a historian.”
Jane scoffed. “Says a fellow historian.” She nudged him in the stomach.
Me: Bastian, how often do you see the doves that returned to the dovecote after Cordelia is finally destroyed? Do you think they might truly be Richard and Isabelle?
“Ever since we destroyed Cordelia, the doves have been back. The same pair. This past spring, they had a nest of chicks. I would say that I’m not a man who believes in coincidences, but I have to admit, it makes me think perhaps they are Richard and Isabelle. I’d like to think so anyway.”
After the interview was over, I thanked Jane and Bastian and returned back to the little inn where I’d rented a room. The white lady still hung on the creaky wooden sign and the chill in my room was less menacing than before. Perhaps the cold was friendly spirit, someone merely watching over me. With a smile, I set down to write the book The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall.
Bastian Carlisle, the Earl of Weymouth, doesn’t believe in ghosts. Even though tragedy and mysterious hauntings have driven his family away from his ancestral home, Stormclyffe Hall, he is determined to restore the castle to its former glory. His plans are disrupted when a stubborn American shows up on his doorstep hoping to pry into his family’s tragic history.
Jane Seyton, an American graduate student, is convinced there’s more to the tragedy of Stormclyffe Hall than history claims. Ever the scholar, she is determined to discover the truth, even if it means putting up with the arrogant, yet sexy, Bastian.
Although Bastian wants nothing to do with the pushy American, it soon becomes clear that something evil is in the house—and that something is targeting both Jane and Bastian. The two must join forces to purge the ghosts of Stormclyffe Hall once and for all—even as they try to fight a physical attraction between them that grows more and more impossible to deny.
Enjoy and Excerpt
Randolph cleared his throat. “Will she be staying here, my lord? I can have a room prepared immediately.”
Stay here? Surely he couldn’t let the woman stay in the castle. Bastian was about to declare as much when something out of the corner of his eye flickered. A shadow at the edge of his vision seemed to be creeping along the wall toward him. He turned and focused in the direction he’d glimpsed it, but all signs of the shadow were gone.
I’m seeing things, too, blast it! These workmen are driving me to madness as well. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“My lord?” Randolph prompted, which made Bastian realize he must have been silent for several moments. The shadows had him on edge. Perhaps it would be nice to have a bit of company, if only she wasn’t a bloody American. Given the rumors of ghosts and other such childish stories, most of the staff at Stormclyffe refused to stay overnight. Only Randolph and a few of the loyal staff from London remained after dark.
“I shall meet with her. She will not be staying here.”
Jane Seyton was sure to be like every other historian he’d met and probably as stubborn as one of the Queen’s corgis with a bone. Given half the chance, she’d run off to the nearest garden and bury his secrets where only she could find them. He didn’t like anyone having that power over him.
Well, he did have a way with women. If she proved too troublesome in getting her to leave, he’d simply seduce her. There wasn’t a woman born yet that would say no to an invitation to dinner if the Earl of Weymouth asked her. No doubt she was a lonely little bookworm, probably wearing spectacles and never been kissed. The idea was almost charming. He smirked as he headed toward the drawing room. If he wanted her gone by nightfall, she’d be gone and all it would cost him was dinner.
When he reached the drawing room and laid a palm on the heavy oak door, it swung open revealing the rich red- and gold-papered walls and dust covered furniture. He hadn’t had the chance to visit every room in the castle in the last seven months, since he’d been here sparingly, and he had definitely not been into this one. Randolph had been overseeing the cleanup of the rooms upon Bastian’s instructions and given the number of rooms, many had yet to be opened.
Personally, he had been avoiding this room because it was the only room in the castle where a portrait of Isabelle hung. His grandmother had said looking upon Isabelle’s face was bad luck, and since Stormclyffe had been abandoned for longer than he’d been alive, he’d never had the chance to find out himself if it was true. But now, seeing his ancestor for the first time…he was arrested at the sight.
There on the wall was the infamous woman whose swan dive off the cliffs had tainted his family’s lives forever. Bastian studied the portrait for a moment. A fair-skinned woman with a hint of rose in her cheeks gazed out from the layers of oil with serious gray eyes. Her pale blue gown molded to her curves, and waves of rich ebony hair tumbled down her shoulders to tease the tops of her breasts. There was a curious expression on her face. She was happy, but wariness lurked in the depths of her eyes, as though she expected to lose her joy at any moment.
Below the painting, a flesh-and-blood woman stood with her back to him. Windblown hair, dark as a raven’s wing, spiraled down her back in enticing waves. He had the sudden urge to thread his fingers through the silken strands and shape her full curves with his other hand. A curious burning settled deep in his bones, and a ringing filled his ears as visions of him pinning her to a bed filled his mind. Wild, erotic thoughts tumbled through him, stealing his breath before he regained control and focused on his visitor again.
As though she’d heard his lustful thoughts, the woman turned to face him, cheeks flaming. She couldn’t have known what he was thinking. His hand dropped from the door handle, and his jaw slackened in shock.
The dreamy gray eyes fixed on him were identical to the eyes of the woman painted above her. Noble, high cheekbones, curving brows, a sensual mouth made for kisses, and that nose, both delicate and impish, a perfect fit for the face of the woman before him. Her inky-black tresses and curves designed perfectly for a man’s hands made her a living memory of a woman centuries gone.
Dear God… He repeated the words in his head over and over, mesmerized by the closeness of their shared features.
“You must be Lord Weymouth. I’m Jane Seyton.”
The woman strode over to him, hand outstretched. Without thinking, he took it. Heat flared between them. He inhaled sharply.
About Lauren
Lauren Smith is an attorney by day, author by night, who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She’s a native Oklahoman who lives with her three pets—a feisty chinchilla, sophisticated cat and dapper little schnauzer. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including being an Amazon.com Breakthrough Novel Award Quarter-Finalist and a Semi-Finalist for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award.
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