Today I’m thrilled to have Charlotte Russell, author of A Spy’s Honor with me in the Blue Rose Writing Room.
Can you tell us how long you have been writing?
I’ve been seriously writing romance for about 10 years, but I’ve been crafting stories in my head ever since I was a child. I always thought it would be too difficult to write those stories down. Then a friend kind of dared me to and I discovered that I was right—it’s really hard to write a novel! But it’s fun and fulfilling too.
What’s one thing you absolutely can’t tolerate during your writing? One thing you can’t write without?
I really prefer a quiet room to write in and I like to be alone while doing so. I am baffled by all these writers who sit in coffeehouses and write thousands of words. That is just something I could never do.
You sound like me!
What is one place you absolutely want to visit before you die?
I want to get back to England. I spent a semester in London during college and while I enjoyed some of the history of the place (I was a history major after all), I was not a writer at the time and so I missed out on doing a lot of research. And by research I mean merely walking around and observing the history that lives on every corner in London. I would visit museums too, of course, but there is so much to see in the architecture and the layout of the city itself that is timeless.
I’ve been to England twice and would love to return. It’s magical.
What historical figure do you wish you could have met?
This is cliché, but Jane Austen. Although I’m very much afraid of what she would write to her sister after having met me. She had such a biting wit. However, can you imagine sitting down to talk plot and characters with her? Her heroines are all so different—independent Lizzie, spoiled but well-meaning Emma, rigid Fannie. Jane would probably boot me out before I got to ask her all the questions I wanted to.
What are you most proud of about your writing?
That I can make people laugh. My writing isn’t all-out comedy, but I enjoy the occasional subtle joke. I am not super funny in person so I love it when I’m reading my work out loud to my critique group and they laugh at the appropriate times.
I adore humor in romances!
What is something you are determined to do?
Keep writing books. There are times when it’s been a struggle over the years (I absolutely will not reveal how long I’ve been working on my current manuscript) but I have lots of stories I’d like to tell so I’m going to keep at it.
What are you most afraid of?
Spiders. Aside from that, having attention focused on me. It’s really something I dread. So, yeah, this whole putting a book out into the world and asking people to pay attention to it and to me? This is me, facing my fears.
Spiders. Bleck! Can’t stand them either.
Tell us something unusual, quirky, or odd about yourself.
I cannot fall asleep unless I have a pillow over my head and one under as well. I call it the Charlotte sandwich. Bonus quirk: I drive using both feet.
Okay, now for the quickie questions: Answer in three words or less. Ready? Go!
Favorite Disney Character? Tigger
Favorite Fruit? Pineapple
Favorite Hero? Captain America
Favorite Eye Color? blue
Best Vacation Destination? Hawaii
Food you can’t stand? Broccoli
What annoys you? Reality TV
Coffee, tea, or something else? Coffee with cream
Nightgown or Jammies? Jams
Prefer dogs or cats? Cats, have two
Charlotte Russell didn’t always know she wanted to be a writer. At one point she had grand plans to be an architect, until she realized she couldn’t draw anything more complicated than a stick figure. So, she enrolled at the University of Notre Dame and studied her first love—history. Now she puts all that historical knowledge to good use by writing romances set in Regency England. When not pounding on the keyboard, she loves spending time with her husband, three kids, and two cats. (Of course there are cats; she’s a writer.)
The blurb about A Spy’s Honor
LOVE & LIES
At seventeen, Lady Claire Talbot thought she’d found her one true love. But after rescuing her from a dangerous situation, in undue haste he fled to the Continent instead of marrying her. Now, after years of suppressing her romantic side and honing her practicality, Claire is on the verge of an altogether convenient match.
At seventeen, Lady Claire Talbot thought she’d found her one true love. But after rescuing her from a dangerous situation, in undue haste he fled to the Continent instead of marrying her. Now, after years of suppressing her romantic side and honing her practicality, Claire is on the verge of an altogether convenient match.
A man of few words but much passion, Lord John Reyburn always regretted his decision to turn back from Gretna Green. Now, wounded in more ways than one, he is in the place—but not the position—to correct his mistake. His mission in England is to capture an assassin. And, so, one of His Majesty’s more unconventional spies, John must add yet a further deceit: cold indifference to Claire’s impending marital bliss. For unless sweet loyalty and devotion couple with suspicion and betrayal, nothing can make things right.
Enjoy an excerpt from A Spy’s Honor
London, May 1812
Lady Claire Talbot stared wistfully at the couple leading the dancers down the floor of the Duke of Allerton’s grand ballroom. The handsome duke, his untamable hair falling over blue eyes bright with love, partnered his bride with a breathtaking tenderness and grace. The two were perfectly matched—he, tall and strong; she, petite and pretty. But more than that was the romantic air swirling around them, causing an outbreak of smiles and happy laughs in all who watched.
“You’ve wasted my time and money, girl.” The Earl of Bradwell’s brandy-coated breath assaulted her nose. “Not one offer of marriage this Season. Not one suitor coming to call. No one has even asked you to dance at your own sister’s wedding ball.”
Claire flinched, at seventeen still unable to disguise how much her father’s words hurt her. One day she would master that skill.
The Earl of Bradwell moved to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the bride and groom. Cheeks burnished a deep red and eyes glazed over with drink, he shook his head. “‘Tis no wonder. Look at you. Plumper than a Christmas goose. And the color of that dress—why did you not ask Emily for her opinion? Not much rattles around in that brain of hers, but she does know what’s fashionable.”
I did ask her. I always do! She said the peach color was perfect for my darker skin tone. She said the overdress flattered my figure. She said I looked lovely. And what would you know of fashion anyway? You can barely see straight.
Not a word of this passed her lips. There was no point in protesting; he never listened to a word she said. And, truthfully, he must be right. Not a single man had attempted to court her this spring despite her not-insignificant dowry. She’d been lucky to dance once at each affair she’d attended, and she wouldn’t be surprised to learn Emily had slyly solicited those offers on her behalf.
She picked at a loose thread on the embroidered overdress and hoped the temptation of swilling more of the duke’s brandy would lure her father away.
“I cannot afford to give you another Season.”
Of course he couldn’t afford it, not when he whiled away so much of his meager wealth on drink and traveling aimlessly around the world. Claire’s dreams of finding that perfect man to sweep her off her feet and rescue her from the brunt of her father’s drunken anger skittered away at her father’s pronouncement. No one like Allerton would ever have the chance to save her.
All she could manage in reply was a weak, “Yes, Father.”
“Now, don’t have a fit of the dismals on me, daughter.” A white-gloved finger wagged in front of her face. “I know how much you want to marry. So, I’ve done your work for you. I’ve found just the man. Never say I didn’t do anything for you.”
The prospect of her father choosing her husband didn’t exactly elevate her spirits. However, this man could have potential…
“He’s willing to overlook all this”—her father waved a hand up and down in front of her body—“for your nice, fat dowry. That’s the only thing that should be fat, eh?”
Or perhaps not. Claire closed her eyes, only wishing she could cover her ears too, to block out her father’s derisive laugh. When in his cups his mood always turned foul. He derided her for her appearance and her sister for what he perceived as a slow intellect.
“Wait here,” her father ordered. “I’ll bring Lord Landry over for a dance.” As he turned away, she heard him mutter something about “that demmed dress.”
Claire, eyes still shut, drew in a deep breath and let the rustling of beautiful gowns and the tap-tap of slippered feet wash over her. Where was a dashing hero when you needed one? Should she hide from her father? Would it do any good?
“Lady Claire, may I have the next dance?”
Here’s how you can contact Charlotte
Twitter: @authorCharlotte
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorcharlotte
Website: www.authorcharlotterussell.com
Thanks again, Charlotte, for joining me here today!
Buy links:
Barnes and Noble: http://www.amazon.com/Spys-Honor-Charlotte-Russell-ebook/dp/B00M8EQ76M/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1407174232&sr=1-1&keywords=charlotte+russell
Boroughs Publishing: http://www.boroughspublishinggroup.com/books/spys-honor
