First let's find out more about her book, Eulogy's Secret:
Eulogy’s Secret - a story of greed prejudice and a stolen identity.
In the four weeks since her guardians’ death, Eulogy Foster has lost everything. Penniless and alone she seeks the help of her estranged brother, Lord Lucien Devlin. But Devlin throws Eulogy onto the streets and the mercy of a passing stranger, Jack Huntley. As Eulogy seeks the truth behind her birth, she is drawn into the world of art and artists, where her morals are challenged and all is deception.
Jack Huntley: bitter, cynical and betrayed in love. He believes women are devious, scheming, untrustworthy creatures - and when he rescues a naïve Miss from being raped, his life is about to change forever. As his attraction to Eulogy grows, caught in a deadlock with both denying their true feelings, events take a sinister turn as someone seeks to silence Eulogy….forever.
Bright, moss-green eyes blinked back at her, as Eulogy realized he [Huntley] was waiting for her permission to stay. Her heart skipped and wondering if she’d misjudged him, cautiously, she nodded.
As the housekeeper fussed with the fire, Eulogy fought the discomfort Huntley stirred in her. His voice resonated deep in her body, and when he smiled she wanted to stare, to drink in that strong face, so masculine with its angles and planes, and yet somehow vulnerable. His presence filled her with unnamable sensations as she fixed her gaze firmly on the teapot.
They made an awkward party with Huntley gruff as a bear and Eulogy skittish as a colt. It didn’t help that she couldn’t make up her mind what to think. One moment he seemed high handed and arrogant, and the next a kind word to Mrs. Featherstone and her heart melted. Then there was the way his large hand folded round the teacup, that something so big could be so gentle did strange things to her insides.
Gilbert jumped onto his lap.
“No, Gibbe, get down this instant.” Eulogy leapt to her feet, trying to shoo the cat from a comfortable perch on Huntley’s long thighs and his immaculate buckskin breeches. But Huntley just smiled, ignoring the cat’s sooty feet, and started stroking the stripy ginger coat causing Gilbert to erupt into purrs.
“He really should get down. He’ll ruin your breeches.”
“It’s quite all right. Really.”
As if to emphasize the point, Gilbert bunted against Huntley’s hand as he found the sweet spot below the tom-cat’s ear.
“Oh. He obviously likes you.”
Eulogy sank back, nonplussed by this man who was overbearing, arrogant, domineering and yet strikingly handsome and utterly charming when he wished. That Huntley tolerated the old tom cat was unmistakably attractive and set Eulogy wondering if his bluster was just that…an act. His hooded eyes lifted to meet her gaze, and a moment of understanding passed between them that shook Eulogy to the core.
Guest Post Time!
When Do You Stop
I recently found myself with a dilemma; reading the latest book from my all-time-favourite author, I couldn’t get into the story. To put this in context, I have this author (it wouldn’t be fair to name her) on Google search on my computer, so as not to miss a new release. I seriously love this author and it's because of her work that I discovered a latent love of history which inspired me to write historical romance. I owe her a lot; reading her books has materially changed my life….and yet (gulp) I hate her latest offering.
Based on the quality of her earlier novels I was determined to keep going with the blind faith that there would be a twist and the old magic return. But sadly, I dragged myself through over 300 pages only for the disappointment to continue.
What this experience taught me, is the importance of story telling. There was nothing actually wrong with her novel; it was researched in meticulous detail, historically accurate and a re-telling of actual events - but yet it couldn’t hold my attention! It came to me afterwards that 'a hook' was missing, that vital ingredient which has the reader turning to pages to find out what happens next, and without it I just didn’t care about the fate of the characters.
But it also raised another issue; when to stop reading?
I'm of the school of thought that you should never give up on a book regardless. As a life long book-a-holic I can think of only one book that I gave up on and that was fifteen years ago! It puzzles me as to why I'm so determined to keep going in the face of dissatisfaction, but I guess now it's become an ingrained habit that I cant give up.
But how about you? Is it OK to stop reading if a book doesn’t deliver? How long do you give a book before you put it aside and reach for another? Or are there other people like me out there, who see giving up as defeat? I'd love to know - please comment!
Twitter : @Grace_elliot