Thank you, Kryssie, for chatting with me today about your new book. Let’s get started.
Give us an insight into your main character. What does she do that is so special?
My heroine, Lady Elizabeth Blayneton is an heiress, but she can’t inherit until she marries or turns thirty. Her uncle and guardian is determined she will marry his slack-mouthed son, but she’d rather stay single than wed him. Only she doesn’t want to die a virgin.
Oh, no. That’s terrible! Tell us about your hero.
Brigade Major Lord Rothbury carries the wounds his first love inflicted when she threw him over for his father. To silence the gossip, his father packed him off to fight in the Peninsula war and squandered the family fortune on his new bride. When the current Lord Rothbury inherited, there was nothing but mortgages and debts. He’s been trying to put things right and provide for his sisters ever since. Waterloo looms, and he’s recalled to Wellington’s staff. Then there’s this serving girl who keeps ending up in his bed, only wedding her would cause another scandal and ruin his sisters’ future.
My, he’s been through a rough time too. What genre are your books?
I write romance. Any sort. Paranormal or contemporary. Wickedly Used is my first Regency Romance, although it’s darker than many.
I bet it is darker! What draws you to this genre?
I write the books I like to read. There’s always a strong plot, with lots of adventure. Then there’s the sex. My pet hate is cliff hangers. Each book in either of my series can be read as stand-alone romance. Add in that I’m a sucker for a happy-ever-after, and you’ve got my writing style.
Good to know. What is your favorite motivational phrase.
It’s one of Mohamed Ali’s catchphrases. “If my head can conceive it and my heart can believe it, then I can achieve it.”
Cool! How do you select the names of your characters?
I try to pick a name that fits the world they live in. My paranormal heroines are often named for herbs and flowers. For my contemporary characters, I look at popular names in the year they were born. Sometimes they shout at me that I’ve named them wrongly, but that doesn’t happen often. The heroine in my book Claimed by Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf went through three name changes before I got her name right.
Awesome. Thanks again for chatting with me.
While he is no stranger to pleasurable company from ladies of the night, Major Richard Rothbury of the royal dragoons is not the kind of man who will stand idly by as a woman is taken against her will, and when he witnesses a disreputable cad attempting to force himself on a girl in a back alley, he does not hesitate to intervene.
But after the grateful young woman offers herself to Rothbury, he is shocked to discover that not only was she no harlot, she was a maiden and he has deflowered her. Furious at the girl’s scandalous behavior and her carelessness with her own safety, Rothbury chastises her soundly.
Though she is due to inherit one of the largest fortunes in England, the fact that she cannot touch the money until she marries or turns thirty has kept Elizabeth completely at the mercy of her cruel uncle, and for years she has been treated as if she were a servant. Her encounter with Lord Rothbury is by far the most exciting thing that has ever happened to her, but while he shows great concern for her safety, he refuses to believe that she is anything more than a serving girl.
Despite having made it clear that he doesn’t consider a match between them to be possible, when Elizabeth disobeys him Rothbury proves more than ready to strip her bare, punish her harshly, and then enjoy her beautiful body in the most shameful of ways. But can she dare to hope that he will one day make her his wife, or is she destined to spend her life being wickedly used?
Publisher’s Note: Wickedly Used: A Dark Regency Romance includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Beth? Screaming? From Dawlish’s coach?
Dawlish’s carriage had been heading toward the Antwerp road. Ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder, Rothbury galloped after the coach, but every step the mare took sent shockwaves of pain through his bruised ribs.
The road narrowed into a single track flanked by deep drainage ditches. Thanks to the recent storms, mud oozed, thick, black and foul-smelling in its depths. Passing places were few and far between.
A wild burst of speed and he spotted a coach ahead. He urged his horse after it. Dawlish’s postilion looked over his shoulder, spotted Rothbury, and yelled a warning. The coachman cracked his whip over the horses’ heads. They shot forward. The carriage swung right. It teetered on the edge of the drainage ditch, then swung back to the left.
Rothbury’s shoulder throbbed. Blood oozed from his reopened wound. Spears of pain shot down his arm. Every bone in his body ached. Not that he cared when Beth needed him.
He raced alongside the coach. Dropping his reins, he stood in his stirrups. Teeth gritted, he leaped for the carriage roof. The coach jerked away from him. Rothbury stretched midair. His fingers closed around a roof strut, but his feet dangled over the road. The impact almost dislocated his wounded shoulder. He grimaced when his left arm went numb. Legs kicking and flailing, he tried to find a foothold. If he fell, the carriage’s rear wheels would cut him in two.
From inside the coach, Dawlish poked at him with his cane.
Beth screamed. “Get off him.”
Rothbury swung his legs sideways. One landed on the roof. He heard Dawlish grunt. “Stop that, you bitch.”
Bless her, Beth must have grabbed Dawlish’s cane. If that blackguard hurt her for it, Rothbury would tear him limb from grubby limb. He blinked, trying to focus on his mission, but his fingers slipped. Jaw set, Rothbury hung onto the carriage by a fingertip.
His shoulder burned. One slow inch at a time, he pulled himself forward. His uninjured arm felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t feel the other. The carriage veered right, setting his feet swinging back over the road. Teeth gritted, arms almost popping from his shoulder joints, he clung like a limpet. His fingers turned white against the carriage’s black roof.
The horses swerved again, setting the carriage swinging left. It barely stayed on the narrow road. One more inch and it would tumble into the drainage ditch. Momentum tossed Rothbury onto the roof. His arm hung limply at his side—but he’d gladly lose it to protect Beth.
Amazon USA – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B079WCN3T2
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wickedly-Used-Kryssie-Fortune-ebook/dp/B079WCN3T2
Amazon Canada – https://www.amazon.ca/Wickedly-Used-Kryssie-Fortune-ebook/dp/B079WCN3T2
Amazon Australia – https://www.amazon.com.au/Wickedly-Used-Kryssie-Fortune-ebook/dp/B079WCN3T2
More about Kryssie Fortune.
Kryssie reads everything and anything, from literary fiction to sizzling romance. Her earliest memory is going to the library with her mother. She can’t have been more than two at the time. Reading, especially when a book’s hot and explicit, is more than a guilty pleasure. It’s an obsession.
Kryssie loves to visit historic sites, from Hadrian’s wall to Regency Bath. The first book she fell in love with was Georgette Heyer’s The Unkown Ajax. After that, she devoured every regency book she could. After a while, they went out of fashion, but part of Kryssie’s psyche lives in in in Regency London. She longs to dance quadrilles and flirt behind fans. Of course, Kryssie’s heroines do far more than flirt.
Kryssie lives in Bridlington on the Yorkshire coast –about thirty miles from Whitby, where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula. She enjoys gardening, travel, and socializing with her author friends. You’d be surprised how many erotic romance authors live in the North of England.
Social Media Links Kryssie Fortune Social Media
Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO