Welcome, Rose! Please start off by telling us a little about yourself.
Hi Lia, thank you so much for having me on today. It is a pleasure to be here. Now, about your question...there’s not much to say, I’m afraid. I’m rather boring—or so I’m told by those who know me best! But since you’ve asked, I’m a USA Today Bestselling Author of ten unusually unusual historical romances that have been known to include scarred heroes, feisty heroines, marriage-producing scandals, far too much scheming, naughty literature and always a sweet happily-ever-after.
When not escaping to another world via reading or writing a book, I find myself chasing two young boys around the house, being hunted by wild animals, or sitting on the swing in the backyard, using my arms as shields to deflect projectiles AKA: balls, water balloons, sticks, pinecones, and anything else one of my boys picks up to hurl at his brother who just happens to be hiding behind me!
Is His Jilted Bride a single title, or part of a series?
A bit of both. It is part of a series, but this series is very unique in that the first two books take place in the late 1700s and the second two books happen roughly thirty years later, involving the children of one of the previous couples. So they’re all connected, but certainly a standalone.
What were your inspirations for the story?
The hero. I’ve been writing about various members of his family now for three years and I’d met him in two previous books. He just never had a lot to say or a very big role, so I knew there was something more to him, and most of all, he deserved his own happily-ever-after. Thus, I had to write the book.
Please share your setting for His Jilted Bride. Have you ever lived or visited there? If so, what did you like most?
It’s set in Regency England—a place in time I’ve never been, and neither a physical location I’ve been to, either, I’m afraid. All but one of my current books is set there. Only in the previous book, His Yankee Bride have I been to where it’s set in Charleston, South Carolina, if that’s worth anything. But as for England, one day I’ll get there. But first I have to either A. get over my fear of flying over the ocean, or B. find a doctor who will give me a tranquilizer that will last the duration of the flight.
When did the writing bug first bite?
First? When I was nine and was told to either read or write, but keep quiet at my desk while everyone else finished their work. I did just that. Unfortunately, the girl sitting next to me (who was somewhat of a snob, if I must be honest) asked to be written into the story—which I did. Strangely enough, though I granted her request, she took exception to the role I’d given her a of homeless beggar who ate from the dumpster and had the nerve to complain to the teacher! It would be three years and with great reluctance that I ever put my imagination on paper again. Then it was slow going. A story about the life of an eraser. A poem about my love for figuring taxes (my degree is in accounting, what can I say?). But at 23, I started my first novel, and totally fell in love with writing. Or actually, it was my characters that I love and writing about them just comes naturally.
Boxers, brief or commando?
Commando—but only for the heroes in my books. Me personally, I’d rather admire my husband in his boxer-briefs!
Favorite eye color?
What's the strangest thing you've heard or seen?
I don’t even know where to start. I have the strangest luck in the world, and I cannot leave the house without hearing/seeing something abnormal, so I’ll pick the two things that tie: 1. at Panera one day, I overheard a 40-something year old woman announce to the group of business associates seated next to her that she thought SpongeBob was sophisticated. I’m sorry, what??? 2. A year or so ago, I was at my local mall writing in the food court and I actually met a pimp. He was dressed in black and dark purple, had shiny buttons and shoes, a top hat, cane, the whole nine yards. Best yet, he wanted to have a conversation with me! I’m a magnet for weird.
Again, thank you so much for having me on. I certainly appreciate it. I’d be willing to do a giveaway for a paperback copy of a previous book His Yankee Bride (but only for in the US if possible) and/or a giveaway of one of my backlist titles for international entrants.
If you need anything else, please let me know!
His Jilted Bride
by Rose Gordon
It's her wedding day and there is no groom in sight. But why should Amelia Brice be surprised? Hiram, Lord Friar is known for having no gentleman's honor to speak of and his jilting her on their wedding day makes it official.
Elijah Banks cannot allow his childhood friend to continue to be shamed this way. It's been almost an hour past the time when the wedding was to start, and that bounder still hasn't shown up. Unable to sit still a second longer, Elijah does the only thing that seems logical from where he stands: kidnap the bride and marry her himself in order to escape this scandal with one far more forgiving for a young lady's reputation.
The only trouble is, she has a secret...but so does he; hers is big...but his is bigger.
“Nobody has to know he jilted you,” he said, reaching forward to push the hair sweeping across her forehead behind her ear.
She shook her head; her grey eyes shining with unshed tears. “They already do.”
“No,” he corrected. “All they know for sure is a wedding is not currently taking place. What they don't know is if it was the groom who jilted the bride or the bride who jilted the groom.”
Amelia eyed him curiously. “No, I'm fairly certain they all know it was the groom who jilted the bride. My mother and father are both out there.”
“Yes, and they are doing a wonderful job acting as if they're waiting for their daughter's wedding to take place.”
“Acting?” she said, her eyes narrowing in on him.
“Acting,” he confirmed. “See, your mother is sitting in her pew, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief while your father is pacing a hole in the wooden platform just outside the front door of the church. Both are playing their roles perfectly, giving off the illusion to the rest of the guests that they are just waiting for the wedding to begin any moment.”
“Which seems to be less likely to happen as the minutes pass.”
“Exactly,” Elijah agreed. “Which is why you need to act now before someone discovers your game.”
He nodded once. “Yes, madam, your game.” He picked up her petite hand and wrapped his fingers around it. “I'm not as dimwitted as the rest of them. I see what's really going on here.”
“At least you do, because I have no idea what you're talking about.”
He ignored her. “I almost fell for it, too.”
“Fell for what?” she burst out in hysteria, presumably due to her current situation, lacing her voice.
“You're jilting your groom,” he said evenly, meeting her eyes.
A shadow crossed her face and she cleared her throat. Twice. “What are you suggesting?”
“I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just merely making mention of the fact that the wedding has yet to begin, and both the bride and the groom have yet to be seen. How does a guest such as myself truly know whether it was the bride or the groom who didn't come today? How do I—a random guest—know that the bride and groom were not so in love with the other they could hardly wait another day and decided to elope?”
“All right, well, perhaps that scenario isn't very believable, but the other very well could be possible.” He took a deep breath. “Amelia, listen to me, I know you're a very strong young lady and you come from a very important family; but none of that will matter come tomorrow when this is all over the scandal sheets.”
“I know,” she said with a swallow.
“Then see the sense in what I'm saying and marry me.”
Rose will be awarding a $100 gift card to Amazon.com to a randomly drawn commenter during this tour and her Reviews Tour.
Follow the tour: http://goddessfishpromotions.
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AUTHOR Bio and Links:
USA Today Bestselling Author of ten unusually unusual historical romances that have been known to include scarred heroes, feisty heroines, marriage-producing scandals, far too much scheming, naughty literature and always a sweet happily-ever-after. When not escaping to another world via reading or writing a book, she spends her time chasing two young boys around the house, being haunted by wild animals, or sitting on the swing in the backyard where she has to use her arms as shields to deflect projectiles AKA: balls, water balloons, sticks, pinecones, and anything else one of them picks up to hurl at his brother who just happens to be hiding behind her.
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