WINNER: Vanquished by Hope Tarr

And the winner is....

*drumroll*

Virginia C!!!

Congratulations! Please send your name and mailing address (no P.O. Box) to caroletrr(@)gmail.com, and Hope will send you your copy of Vanquished. Happy reading!

Exclusive Peek and Giveaway: A Rogue's Pleasure by Hope Tarr

From Hope Tarr:

Exclusive Excerpt: 

Standing before him, she caught a whiff of the cool, clean scent of his shaving soap. The urge to let her fingertips trace the hard line of his freshly shaven jaw was so strong that, to be safe, she jammed her free hand inside her trouser pocket. 

"I really should be going." Her voice held remarkably steady for a woman whose insides were churning. 

He released her with a show of reluctance. "I had hoped you might stay to join me in a light supper." 

Shocked, she crammed the hand he'd just released into her other pocket. "I'm afraid that is out of the question." 

"Don't tell me that you've already eaten?" His face registered disappointment. 

She was about to answer "yes" when her stomach betrayed her with a loud rumble. 

He grinned. "I think not." Hand on her elbow, he steered her toward the door. "But we can remedy that." 

She halted. "Lord Montrose, I don't think dining with you would be wise." 

"Why not?" he asked, expression bland. 

Was he mocking her? Annoyed, she answered through pursed lips, "I should think that would be obvious. I came tonight only to return the necklace I--" she faltered "--stole from you. I am hardly an invited guest." 

He opened the study door and held it. "That is for me to decide." 

Chelsea hesitated. To accept his invitation would be to chart a perilous course. But over the past twenty-four hours, her body seemed to have developed a will of its own. She laid her fingers atop his, butterflies dancing in her stomach. He linked his long fingers through hers, and her hand disappeared in his warm grasp. 

"You needn't fear discovery." His other hand on her back, he guided her through the sconce-lit hallway. "I have dismissed the staff for the night, including Chambers." 

Recalling the frail, black-clad old man she'd seen answering Anthony's front door the day before, she asked, "I gather Chambers is your butler?" 

"My uncle's butler." He paused, then amended, "My butler now, I suppose. Fellow must be in his eighties. He's blind as a bat and creaks like carriage springs when he walks, but I haven't the heart to retire him." 

A sliver of light showed beneath ornately carved double doors. Releasing her hand, Anthony opened them and led her inside a large dining room with cream-colored walls, emerald velvet drapes, and plush carpet patterned in hues of cream and jade. The faint smell of fresh paint hovered. The night before, she hadn't stopped to admire the chamber's beauty, but now she found her gaze straying. Roundels depicting scenes from classical mythology dotted the intricate plasterwork ceiling. Flames flickered in the wall sconces above a burl walnut sideboard laden with food. 

Lord Montrose stood in the center of the room, the pride of possession shining from his brown eyes. "Do you like it? It's one of the few rooms in this mausoleum that comes close to being habitable." 

Habitable, indeed. Chelsea thought of the shabbiness of Oatlands, Robert's legacy—assuming he survived—and her heart tugged. Rotting woodwork and a leaking roof, veritable calamities a few weeks before, were now the very least of her worries. 

Aware of her host watching her, expectant, she suppressed a sigh and answered, "It's splendid. The most beautiful room I've ever seen." 

"I'm glad you approve." He led her to the end of the long table where two places had been set, a brace of candles between them. "Right now, the thing I like best about this room is that there's no one here but you and I." He pulled out a shield-back chair. "So, you see, you shall be quite safe." 

Safe? Alone in a chamber veiled in candlelight and shadows with an unrepentant rake and a brain brimming with foolish fantasies, Chelsea had never felt less safe in her life.

Everything about the room and the man standing in its center radiated romance. 

Wanting to clear the air before matters got out of hand, she said, "I should tell you that, if you're planning to seduce me, you're wasting your time." 

He smiled his mesmerizing smile. "I appreciate your candor, Lady Robin. Now that you've broached the subject, I must confess that the thought had crossed my mind, but I assure you that I shall respect your wishes. I meant what I said last night, that it is not my custom to force my attentions where they are unwanted." He gestured toward the sideboard. "But it would be a pity for all this to go to waste, don't you agree?" 

Disarmed, Chelsea found herself returning his smile. "The toast I had for breakfast does seem rather a long time ago."
His smile broadened. "Even fierce knights of the road have to eat. Besides," he added, his connoisseur's gaze sweeping over her, "You look like someone who could benefit from a good meal." 

She surrendered with a grimace, slipping into the chair he held out. "After such a gracious invitation, how could I possibly refuse?" 

She might have no designs on Lord Montrose, romantic or otherwise, but she was woman enough to wish for something pretty to wear. And to think Robert had always cared for clothes far more than she had. How smart he'd looked in his uniform, the creases of his spotless white trousers ironed as sharp as knife blades. Imagining how bedraggled and filthy he must be by now—if, indeed, he still lived—she felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. 

Fortunately Lord Montrose had moved to the sideboard, affording her a moment to compose herself. 

"Sending the staff to bed does have one disadvantage, namely, that we shall have to fend for ourselves. This is my first time waiting at table, so you'll have to bear with me." 

A bottle of wine had been left to decant. Slinging a napkin over his arm, he carried it to the table. 

"Reputedly a very fine red bordeaux. I hope 'tis to milady's liking." 

He gave a servile bow before bending to pour, and Chelsea couldn't help but smile. How charming he was, how amusing. 

He stepped back. Awaiting her verdict, his dark eyes glinted with mischief. His playfulness was contagious, and Chelsea found her mood lightening. Falling in with the game, she swirled the liquid around her glass before raising the rim to her lips.

"It is rather... wonderful." 

Reminding herself that red wine always gave her the headache, she set down the goblet. She couldn't afford a muzzy head tomorrow just as she couldn't afford to become tipsy in his lordship's presence. He'd promised he wouldn't force himself on her, and she trusted him to keep his word.

Herself she trusted far less.

Book Summary: 

Miss Chelsea Bellamy is desperate 

Her beloved brother is being held for ransom. Impoverished after the deaths of her parents, Chelsea doesn’t have five shillings, never mind the 500 pounds the kidnappers are demanding. With no one to turn to, she resorts to highway robbery to raise the sum.

Lord Anthony Grenville is bored 

The Viscount Montrose is on his way to London when his coach is overtaken by a highwayman – who turns out to be no man at all! Anthony hasn’t been this intrigued by anything, or anyone, since his return from the war. And when he catches the flame-haired thief breaking into his London house to further pad her coffers, he comes up with a plan to rescue her brother – and resolves to seduce her into his bed.

Their passion is mutual 

To save her brother, Chelsea accepts Anthony’s aid, but she’ll never become his mistress – even if the thought of it fills her veins with liquid fire…

Available at Carina Press (ebook).


Don't forget the giveaway we're having. You may also comment on this post. Good luck! Giveaway ends Sept. 9, 1150pm EST.

GUEST POST and GIVEAWAY: Weighing in on...Erotic Romance

by Hope Tarr
Website

As a Libran, I’m obsessed with balance or at least the illusion of it. “I feel so out-of-balance,” I’ve been known to lament—okay, whine—notably during the last few weeks of a deadline. 

But as we know, a perfect balance rarely if ever exists. As the late great Gilda Radner said in one of her popular comic personas, Rosanna Rosanna Danna, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” 

Indeed. 

I’ve been a proud member of Romance Writers of America since 1997 and on moving to New York, one of the first things I did was join the RWA/New York City Chapter. How glad I am that I did!

Among the benefits of membership is a monthly newsletter and the theme of the August issue was erotica. The editor for the issue, a friend of mine, asked me to give a quote on what erotica means to me. What the heck does erotica mean to me? For the first time in a very long time I hit a stumbling block, dare I say “writer’s block.” 
 
As a writer of steamy if not exactly erotic fiction—though as one reviewer rightly pointed out, THE TUTOR definitely cuts it close—I also know that sometimes imbalance can be…intriguing. So long as the shift doesn’t swing too far in one direction. So long as it swings far enough. 

In my July Blaze Historical, THE TUTOR, the heroine, Lady Bea Lindsey, approaches her brother-in-law’s private secretary and former East London street rogue, Ralph Sylvester on the night her engagement to another man, a very nice but apparently sexually clueless gentleman, is announced. 

“I wish for you to tutor me in…sex,” she says and to dispel any doubts, she slides off her red velvet cape beneath which she is wearing absolutely nothing. 

There’s something simultaneously titillating and empowering about a young Victorian woman, a lady, taking control of her sexuality and more broadly, her life. 

In MY LORD JACK, my July 12th single-title historical reissue with Carina Press, my heroine, French émigré, Claudia Valemont, likewise takes charge of shall we say…the situation. Only unlike Ralph, the object of her desire, Scotsman, Jack Campbell is…a virgin. And Claudia is an experienced woman, a former courtesan. Erotic? You be the judge. 

So I suppose for me good erotica, like good sex, is always about the delicate dance between the partners, the subtle and not so subtle shifts in passion and power, in tenderness and lust; the advances, retreats, and yes, submissions; the glorious imbalances that comprise any relationship, be it a long term love affair or a single sexy night.

Wishing you an end-of-summer filled with the “perfect” balance of naughty and nice. 

Hope

Check out the excerpt on The Tutor. 

Hope Tarr is the award-winning author of thirteen historical and contemporary romances including MY LORD JACK (Carina Press, July 12, 2010) and A ROGUE’S PLEASURE (Carina Press, August 16, 2010). For other in-person appearances as well as blog tour stops, check out the Media & Events page of her web site at http://www.hopetarr.com/.

Now, for the GIVEAWAY! 

Hope has very kindly sponsored a print copy of Vanquished for International giveaway! Yay! 

How to Enter/Rules: 

1. You must be a follower (GFC, at least).
2. Comment here or in the post tomorrow (until September 9), or

3. Ask Hope a question.

Note: Not a follower + no comment/question = no chance to win.

Additional Chances to Win:

1. Each time you spread news of this contest (via Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, etc) earns you one point as well. Be sure to come back and give us the link of your tweet or announcement.

2. Follow us! Blogger, Facebook, Twitter, Good Reads. Each "follow" earns you one point. (Old followers are automatically entered.)

Contest Duration: September 8 to 9, 1159pm EST

Contest Winner Announcement: September 10

The winner will be picked via Randomizer.org. Instructions will be given then on how to claim your prize, so be sure to come back and check because we won't hunt you down. If prizes are unclaimed after twenty-four hours, a new winner will be chosen.

True Vows, Hope Tarr, Blogfest 2010 and Jennifer Estep

Now what do True Vows, Hope Tarr, Blogfest 2010 and Jennifer Estep have in common?

We discovered them all this year!

First, True Vows. Lisa Munley of TLC Book Tours approached me in August to see if The Romance Reviews would like to be part of a book tour for an exciting new sub-genre of romance that's about to be unleashed on the market. It's True Vows, Life...Romanticized, a couple's true story of love in novel form. I was seriously wowed, floored. What a marvelous concept! How utterly fascinating and interesting!

Of course I said yes!

Let them tell you in their own words what True Vows is all about. From the True Vows website:

Introducing True Vows, a daring new series from HCI Books that will rock the romance world and redefine memoir forever. A timely new dimension and subgenre of romance, each book in the True Vows series is sexy, entertaining, inspiring, and TRUE.

Welcome to Reality-based, or RB Romance™ where the inspiration of each novel is ripped from the headlines and based on personal interviews with real couples whose love stories read like the best in romantic fiction. Esteemed authors Judith Arnold, Alison Kent, and Julie Leto are beloved story-tellers whose distinctive styles have won them large and loyal followings.  Readers trust them to deliver compelling, page-turning reads, and beginning this fall romance readers will not be disappointed. They will be captivated by the unexpected—an experience that transcends anything that’s ever been offered in the genre before.

When fantasy meets reality anything can happen. Believe it. It’s true.

Want to see your story in book form someday? Submit your story.

Here are the first three books in this sub-genre:

I've read Meet Me in Manhattan and it's amazing! You really don't want to miss this. My stop on the blog tour will be on September 20, which will feature my review, so drop by then. I'll also be having a giveaway of these three books (one winner only).

Other information you might want to know:

Blog Tour info from September to November - Blog Tour starts on Sept 6!

More about True Vows

Chapter Giveaways

Submit your story

Hope Tarr will be visiting the blog on September 8 and 9, and will be sponsoring a giveaway! International! So drop by and come bearing questions! She loves them. ;)

The Romance Reviews is having a Blogfest party from September 10 - 12! The following prizes up for grabs (International), 3 winners:

Larissa Ione - Sin Undone
Joanna Bourne - The Forbidden Rose

Nalini Singh - Play of Passion

Check for the post on September 10 for the instructions to enter the giveaway!

Jennifer Estep will visit the blog from September 13 to 15, and we're also having a giveaway of Elemental Assassin #3 -- Venom, Jennifer's newest release! Check out our review of Spider's Bite. The reviews for Web of Lies and Venom coming soon!

Exclusive Peek: The Tutor by Hope Tarr

From Hope Tarr:

A family supper and reunion between former “friends” takes a steamy turn:

“Cake, Ralph?” 

Ralph looked up to see that Beatrice had rounded the table to his side, a dessert plate in either hand. “Thank you,” he said, gazing drinking in the sweet curve of her cheek, the lovely long column of her neck, and the shadowed swell of her breasts where the gown’s simple square cut neckline dipped ever so slightly. 

She set the dessert down before him and slipped into the empty seat beside him. “I made sure to find you a piece that wasn’t squished.” 

“Squished?” he echoed, feeling his pulse pick up and his blood heat.  The cursed cake was the very last thing on his mind but at least it had them talking. 

“Yes, squished.  You know, from the baby.”  She forked up a bite of cake and smiled at him, not only with her mouth but with her eyes. 

The temperature inside him spiked another notch, and he slipped a finger beneath his starched shirt stock.  “Oh, right.”  He forced his gaze downward to his dessert plate. 

His slice was one of the more pristine specimens being served.  It even boasted an intact pink rose atop.  Would Beatrice Lindsey’s breasts be tipped in a like shade of pale pink or were her areolas and nipples more the coral color of ripe peaches?  Roses, he decided, and forked up a bite, rose and all.  Chipmunk-cheeked, he chewed, hoping his lark wouldn’t end with a tooth breaking off. 

“Hard as a bloody brick,” he said beneath his breath and only afterward did it strike him he wasn’t only speaking of the confection. 

Squalling from the end of the table announced that, so far as the guest of honor was concerned, the evening was at an end.  The company set their napkins aside and rose.  Hattie collected the cake encrusted infant and carried her off to bed.  The doting parents followed her out, the sleepy-faced dog bringing up the rear, but not before Kate announced they would reconvene for coffee and a very special surprise in the library. 

Secretly delighted to be without a chaperone, Ralph offered Beatrice his arm.  “Shall we?” 

She nodded and laid her smooth hand and slender forearm atop his sleeve.  The frisson of awareness that light touch set off was almost alarming.  It was alarming. 

She blushed becomingly and lowered her gaze though he noted she looked up at him through her lashes, the old shyness spiced with a knowingness that was refreshingly, intriguingly new.  “Tell me, do I seem dreadfully grownup to you?” 

“Dreadfully.” 

She rolled her eyes.  “You’re making fun of me.” 

His eyes found hers.  “No, I’m not.  Not really.” 

Her heeled slippers put them on equal footing, reminding him of all the many advantages being of a like height might bring when seeking to have sex standing.  Feeling as though his flesh was afire and his clothes too tight, he led them out into the corridor. 

The library was on the same level.  They had to cross the minstrel’s gallery to get there.  Moving them along at a slow stroll, Ralph pointed out the various improvements made since her last visit. 

Halfway through, she stopped and turned to face him.  “You have a spot of frosting on your cheek.  May I?”  She moved to the front of him. 

Feeling like a fool, he nodded.  “Thank you.” 

She slid the tip of her forefinger into her mouth, whetting the digit.  “Sorry, I don’t have a handkerchief at hand,” she said, swiping at the spot. 

“I don’t mind,” he said.  Had he suspected such a happy outcome, he would have smeared himself with the stuff. 

Her upturned face brought their mouths all but meeting. “There, I’ve got it.”  She stepped back, licking frosting from her finger and like as not the salt from his skin, too.  “Now you’re perfect,” she added, her grave gaze traveling over him and, he fancied, lingering on his lips. 

“Thank you…milady.”  Even with nine months’ of shored up fantasies involving every exotic sexual position he could grasp with his mind, still he couldn’t afford to allow himself to forget the gulf in their stations. 

She tilted her face to the side.  “So formal you are, Ralph. Shall I address you as Mr. Sylvester then?” 

“I’d rather you didn’t.”  He took a step toward her, his pulse thrumming. “It’s one thing for a married matron such as your sister to call me by my surname, but a beautiful unattached young woman doing so would have me feeling old.” 

A funny look crossed her face.  Like a lamp being turned down, the teasing light in her eyes dimmed.  She stepped back, spoiling the moment. 

“Yes, well, I suppose we should be getting on.  Surely Kate and Rourke will have tucked Lucy in by now.” 

He reclaimed her arm, and they walked the rest of the way in suddenly awkward silence.
Reaching the library, he saw that Rourke and Kate were indeed within.  He released Bea with reluctance and stepped back for her to precede him inside. 

“There you are,” Rourke called from the rose marble mantel shelf upon which several silver-framed photographs of Kate and Baby Lucy commanded pride of place.  “Och, Sylvester, you must have taken the lass the roundabout way.” 

“Yes, we thought you two must have gotten lost,” Kate chimed in, sharp-eyed gaze darting between them. 

Ralph slanted his gaze to Beatrice, who’d slipped behind the camel-back sofa as though seeking to set some barrier between them. “Lady Beatrice was catching me up on London gossip.” 

Plucking at the sofa back, she sent him a grateful smile.  “Were it not for Ralph guiding me, I should have found myself quite lost,” she said brightly, too brightly.

Hattie entered followed by a parlor maid bearing a silver tray of champagne flutes. Ralph accepted his flute, wondering what more wanted for celebrating.

Pushing away from the fireplace, Rourke raised his glass and turned to Bea who, along with Kate, had drawn up by his side.  “Katie only just told me your grand news. If you and your Mr. Billingsby are half as happy as your sister and I, then it’s blissful you’ll be indeed.” 

Ralph cinched his fingers about his flute and focused every fiber of his being on not snapping the fragile stemware in twain.

Beaming, Kate piped up, “To think that in but three weeks our Bea-Bea will walk down the aisle as a bride!”


Book Summary:

"I wish you to tutor me in...sex."

Lady Bea Lindsey is desperate. She's newly engaged to a very nice but dull gentleman and is fully aware that if she wants any joy in her marriage bed, she'll have to call the shots. But first she needs to be taught. And who better to instruct her than irresistibly sexy rogue Ralph Sylvester?

Ralph is surprised by Bea's request, but he can't turn down the woman he's lusted after for the past nine months. He agrees on one condition. For the next seven days and nights, Bea must relinquish total control to him. No pleasure will be off-limits, no act of lovemaking forbidden, no desire too shocking.

It's every man's fantasy... until the student surpasses the teacher...

Available in Book Depository (print, ebook).