People do the strangest things to avoid housework when
sometimes it would be easier just do it. This New Year, I heard a perfect
example of this during a radio phone in. The caller, a man, had called the
radio show to boast about how he'd avoided taking the Christmas decorations
down. I had to turn the volume up because the man was whispering. Why was he
whispering? Because, he was hiding in the attic and didn't want his family to
hear him. And what were his family doing? Taking the decorations down!
It
turns out not only was this man lazy, but he'd gone to extreme lengths to avoid
a little work. When his wife asked him to help take the tree lights down, he'd
made an excuse about needing something from the supermarket. He'd driven to the
local store, parked the car in their car park and returned home on foot. He'd
then crept into the house via the back door, run upstairs and got into the
attic without anyone realizing, where he sat listening to the radio and making
phone calls whilst his wife and children worked downstairs.
As the
radio presenter pointed out: what happens if one of your wife's friends hears
you? Well, I hope they did and he gets his come-uppance.
Of
course, this man was being bone idle, but we sometimes avoid situations because
we are frightened or wary of the consequences. In my latest release,
"Hope's Betrayal", our hero is a naval man, Captain George Huntley
and he is unused to feeling emotion. With his growing love for an unsuitable
woman, Hope Tyler, who happens to be his prisoner, instead of facing up to his
emotions Captain Huntley requests a reposting and in effect runs away?
But all
actions have consequences and just as the man on the radio can't live in the
roof forever, Huntley must return home when seriously injured on active
service. And just as the man-in-the-roof must eventually face his wife, so
Huntley once more comes face to face with the woman he loves, as in the excerpt
below:
In a pain-induced nightmare
where he travelled forever and yet got nowhere, George lost track of time. He
lapsed in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he woke in daylight, other times
in darkness, but always the coach bumping and grinding onward on the home
journey. In his own way, Charles was a comfort, regaling George's more lucid
hours with gossip from the Ton, tales of who was bedding whom and who had
gambled away an inheritance. From the most part George listened through a haze,
focusing on his brother's voice and trying not to faint.
From his hair roots to toe
nails, every inch of Huntley's body hurt. His colleagues feted him a hero, for
shielding Adams, but given the location of his injuries Huntley didn’t feel
heroic, more like humiliated. Worse still, as if the indignity wasn’t enough
with every bump in the road the searing pain in his shattered buttock and
thigh, made it difficult to sit.
There was a subtle change in the
air; a freshness sweeping in off the sea. Overhead, gulls screeched as they
wheeled higher and higher on the currents. The light changed, becoming somehow
brighter, almost blue-tinged and more dazzling. Through the haze of discomfort,
George roused himself to look out of the window. He saw the sweep of a familiar
hill, dotted with sheep. He gripped the ledge, wondering if he might make it
home after all, watching with impatience as the hills subsided and became open
fields.
"Not far to go now."
Charles exuded suave boredom. "Ready to face mother?"
George grimaced. "I'd
rather tackle the damn smugglers."
Charles examined his finger
nails. "Well, there are compensations."
"Such as?"
"The delightful Miss Tyler.
No wonder you kept quiet about her. She's a gem and placated mother wonderfully,
when news of your condition broke."
George shifted uncomfortably.
The mention of Miss Tyler's name sent an unwanted excitement fizzing through
his guts. When first injured, in a laudanum induced haze dreams of her as an
angelic vision, had haunted him. As he resisted death's pull, it was Hope he
wanted by his bedside, to hold her hand and feel her soothing touch on his
forehead. In his darkest hour, he had believed one word of comfort from her and
he would die at peace with the world.
But he hadn’t died, and as the
days passed he had plenty of time to consider Miss Tyler's roll in events. From
the moment he'd chased her on the beach, fate had been set in motion. If she
didn’t smuggle, he wouldn’t have caught her. If she hadn’t wormed her way into
his affections then he wouldn’t have been reposted…and he wouldn’t have organized
that particular patrol, he wouldn’t have shot and killed a man…. There was no doubt;
Hope was the author of his downfall.
Grace Elliot
Grace
Elliot leads a double life as a veterinarian by day and author of historical
romance by night. Grace believes intelligent people need to read romance as an
antidote to the modern world. As an avid reader of historicals she turned to
writing as a release from the emotionally draining side of veterinary work.
Grace
lives near London
Author Links
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Hope’s Betrayal
By
Grace Elliot
Historical Romance
November 2012
One wild, winter's night two worlds collide.
Known for his ruthless efficiency, Captain George Huntley is sent to stamp out smuggling on the south coast of England. On a night raid, the Captain captures a smuggler, but finds his troubles are just beginning when the lad turns out to be a lass, Hope Tyler.
With Hope as bait, the Captain sets a trap to catch the rest of the gang. But in a battle of wills, with his reputation at stake, George Huntley starts to respect feisty, independent Hope. Challenged by her sea-green eyes and stubborn loyalty Huntley now faces a new threat - his growing attraction to a sworn enemy. But a love where either Hope betrays her own kind, or Captain Huntley is court-marshaled, is not an easy destiny to follow.
Fabulous excerpt. I love how he blames her for everything. Just like a man. I tweeted.
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