Friday, March 22, 2013

Saturday Snippets - NEVER TOO LATE - in the library

Before we get to this week's snippet, here are a few updates:
  • I received some new favorite things in the mail this week: print copies of the eKensington Sampler - Spring 2013, which features blurbs and excerpts from upcoming eKensington releases, including Never Too Late! So I'm giving copies away (signed, if you wish)! Click here for details!
  • If you're interested in seeing more of my writing apart from Never Too Late, I submitted a guest entry to the Lascaux Flash Fiction contest entitled "A Flight of Fancy." It's a challenge to write flash fiction well, and I enjoyed the exercise of trying to develop a historical piece. The contest is run by the editors of The Lascaux Review, an online literary journal, and I've known some of the Lascaux editors for a while now via blogs and publishing sites. I hope next time they run the contest I can do more to spread the word. 
  • are just a few "This Week in Romance Novels" links I think are important:

Okay, so now that I've gone and sent you to do lots of other reading, here's a snippet from Never Too Late in which we spend some time in the Devin library:

The library was what one would expect of such a house, and Alex knew its secrets would be irresistible to a bibliophile like Mrs. Duchamp. Bookshelves lined three walls, ceiling to floor, and were completely full. Decorative paneled columns on each wall broke up the visual monotony. A writing desk and chair stood between the windows on the far wall, and a heavily upholstered settee sat askew in one corner. Two long tablelike display cases ran perpendicular to the windows. The room was lit only by sconces behind the desk.

“This is inappropriate, you know,” she said. Yet she appeared drawn to the nearest display case, captivated by the sight of leather and parchment. “You should not be here with me, unaccompanied, in a dark room, no matter what your mother said.”

When she described it like that, he could imagine all sorts of inappropriate reasons exactly why he should be here with her in this dark room, lit only by a few candles. It was also conveniently out of earshot from the evening's festivities. He could see her comment was an idle one, though; she made no move to open the door. She knew all too well this was a business matter between a lord and a merchant, best handled behind closed doors, just as everyone would perceive it. So he shifted his thoughts to business, particularly in light of her dark observations at dinner about the Featherbury deaths. He’d given the sample printed sheet from her shop to Withersby to demonstrate his meager progress. It was time for him to do more extensive archaeology of her professional work, but he had to do so delicately, or she’d startle and bolt like a cat.

“I did not think you would come this evening,” he admitted wryly, as he poured a brandy at one of the corner shelves. He offered the glass to her.

She gave a tight smile, shook her head, and said, “I was given to understand that I didn't have much choice.” She tilted her head as she added, “Very adroitly implied, I should say.”

“True, but you do not seem the type to cave to the demands of others.”


  1. I hadn't seen the follow-up articles--thanks for posting! :)

  2. Lara--it's such a complex discussion!


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