A (Surprise!) Release Party for Christina Brooke

by Christina Brooke (aka Christine Wells)

Break out the cabana boys and get your dancing shoes on because it's time for a very special SURPRISE Release Party in the lair!

By the time you read this, I will be at RWA in New York, squeeing and hugging the Banditas and Bandita Buddies who are there, and missing the ones who aren't like crazy. Oh, and hopefully signing copies of my new book, HEIRESS IN LOVE!

Yes, it's a long time since I had a new book out and finally I can tell you the reason--I'm so thrilled to be writing a brand new Regency historical series for St. Martin's Press, called the Ministry of Marriage or M.O.M. for short. You can read more here.

The series is about six Westruther cousins, three boys and three girls, who have grown up under the guardianship of the Duke of Montford. In this first trilogy, we begin with the girls, Jane, Lady Roxdale in HEIRESS IN LOVE, Lady Rosamund Westruther (MAD ABOUT THE EARL, January 3, 2012) and Lady Cecily Westruther (A DUCHESS TO REMEMBER, July 2012).



Here is the official trailer, which gives you an idea of what HEIRESS IN LOVE is about. You can read more on my website.



Hope you were wearing flame-resistant glasses for that one! And I'm not talking about the candles:)

When Jane and Constantine first meet, they are immediately at loggerheads. Constantine has inherited the house Jane lives in but she doesn't realize at first who this disturbingly handsome stranger is...

JANE OPENED HER EYES and a large form filled her vision—or at least, he filled the doorway—dark hair tousled beyond any recognizable style, heavy-lidded eyes trained on her, and a cigarillo clamped between very white teeth.

She gasped. The rider she’d seen from the upstairs window.

Now, he was close enough to reach out and touch. He smiled at her around that horrible cigarillo, Jane realized with dismay. Her heart lurched into a frantic dance.

Jane’s mind fixed on the source of that smoke as a drowning woman might clutch at a rope. She shoved Rosamund’s handkerchief into her pocket and scowled up at him. “I hope you aren’t going to puff on that disgusting thing in here.”

The man’s green eyes narrowed, observing her for a moment. Then his lips closed around the repellant object. The hollows in his cheeks deepened; the end of the cigarillo glowed amber. Deliberately, he removed the cigarillo from his mouth, tilted his head and blew smoke upward. The stream of cloudy gray passed between his well-formed lips, lifting, clouding, curling in tendrils to caress the plasterwork.

In that attitude, the slightly stubborn jut of his chin became pronounced. Despite her annoyance at his studied disregard for her wishes, Jane’s fascinated gaze traced the strong lines of his throat as they disappeared into a stark white cravat.

The stranger turned and pitched the butt off the terrace in a sailing arc, into the rain.

As if the heavens resented this wanton act, they opened, hurling water down in sheets. The wind gave a ghostly howl. Blood red curtains billowed around him, and the fanciful image of a devil stepping out of hell popped into her head. The gentleman moved inside and closed the long window behind him, shutting out the storm.

Jane shot from her chair, which brought her within discomfiting distance of the stranger’s tall form. He smelled—not unpleasantly—of horse leathers and rain and the exotic hint of Spanish smoke.

They both moved at once, and she fetched up against him in a heady brush of palm to chest, side to muscular thigh. Two large, strong hands gripped her upper arms to steady her. “Whoa there.”

The heat from his palms and fingers seeped into her chilled skin. He seemed even larger than he’d appeared from beneath her window. She had to crane her neck to look up at him and his decided chin.

A sudden fire glinted beneath those lazy eyelids. She almost expected him to hold her longer, but he unhanded her almost before she’d regained her balance. She retreated a hasty step and the backs of her knees hit her chair.

The stranger smiled, another flash made brighter by the contrasting swarthiness of his face. “No, no! Don’t go on my account.” His voice, a husky tenor, plucked its way down her spine.

Jane frowned. Who did he think he was? A gentleman did not barge into private rooms without an invitation. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere. You’ll find the other mourners in the drawing room, sir.”

“I know. That’s why I’m in the library.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You don’t have the faintest idea who I am, do you?”

She was beginning to think she did.

As if a new series and a new name weren't exciting enough, I'm delighted to announce that Penguin Australia is releasing the Ministry of Marriage series in trade paperback at the same time as the mass market comes out in the U.S.

The Australian cover is slightly different from the U.S. one, although the beautiful girl in the pink gown is still there.

So to celebrate in style with my favourite people in Romancelandia, today I'm offering a signed copy of HEIRESS IN LOVE to FIVE readers who answer this question:

What's your favourite first meeting in a romance novel? Any cute true life first meeting stories to tell?

And just for today, in a shameless piece of bribery, I am offering a bonus prize of one HARDBACK edition of HEIRESS IN LOVE! All you have to do to go into the draw is sign up for my newsletter here and tell me in the comments that you've joined my mailing list! Let's party everyone!

What is Your Dream Home?

by Christine Wells

It's no secret in the lair that the Wells house is undergoing a major renovation at the moment. We have moved out while this is going on but I often drive to or past the site and feel both exhilarated and slightly nauseous at the mammoth task ahead.

I spent hours this morning choosing tapware, sinks, toilets and baths. I felt that I was quite decisive (for a Libran!) It's amazing how quickly you can make up your mind when your builder gives you a bare weekend to do it. The fun part of choosing wall colours and tiles is yet to come and I daresay I'll spend a lot more time on those things because that's what interests me more than plumbing.

But it got me to thinking about dream homes and in particular, fictional homes.

I grew up on a diet of European fairytales and traditional English books like The Children of Cherry Tree Farm, so the homes I imagined for myself were usually situated at the edge of a wood, surrounded by fields of wildflowers. There'd be a great stone hearth in the living room and patchwork quilts on the beds. (That's when I wasn't imagining myself in a Hobbit house or a gingerbread cottage or Green Gables--not that I actually knew what gables were).

Of course, discovering Regency romance took me away from fairytale cottages to enormous Palladian mansions and landscaping by Capability Brown. Chinese silk wall hangings would cover my bedroom wall and of course I would have a separate chamber for my extensive designer wardrobe.

But the reality of living in subtropical Australia (not to mention one's budget!) does tend to limit options somewhat. In fact, I love my 1920s Queenslander home with its gables (yep, I know what they are now!) and big deck and polished wood floors and tongue-and-groove walls. I miss living there and it's only been a couple of months. I'm going to be terribly homesick before the work on it is finished!

But the gorgeous photos Christie posted of her finished renovation give me hope. In the meantime, I can still dream of Pemberley...

What fictional (or real) house would you love to live in? What luxury feature do you think is essential in a dream home?

Listen Up!

by Christine Wells

There's been a bit of debate in recent years about romance novels being made into movies. Some people say they'd love to see their favourite novels brought to the screen. Others have pointed out the 'interiority'--if that is a word--of the romance novel. So much of the good stuff goes on inside the characters' heads that it doesn't translate well to drama.

I happen to think all many romance novels need to be effective on the screen is a good script and decent actors. After all, there are various dramatized versions of Pride and Prejudice, a love story without car chases or a tragic ending (or written by a man but let's not go there!)

However, it seems that few movie makers agree with me:) Recently, I rediscovered an interesting compromise between a movie and the written word--talking books.

Now that I have an iPod (a cute little hot pink iPod shuffle) I can listen to books being read to me wherever I go. Driving, exercising, doing housework. I love being able to 'read' while doing mundane chores. Plus, if the narrator is talented, it often brings a new dimension to the reading experience.

For some reason, I seem to gravitate toward books I've already read: Georgette Heyer (three of which are read by the wonderful Richard Armitage), Elizabeth Peters (Barbara Rosenblatt reading these books is not to be missed) Jennifer Crusie and Susan Elizabeth Phillips, to name a few. If you're thinking of downloading Crusie's books, I recommend "Faking It" -- the voice of Clea alone is enough to give you your money's worth.

Sadly, not every book makes it to audio but I think that as the popularity of listening to books grows, more and more books will be made into audio versions.

So what about you? Do you like audio books and do you have any recommendations? What romance novel would you like to see made into a movie?

Isn't it Neurotic?

by Christine Wells

It occurred to me today that I'm really rather odd. No, really! Hmm, I don't seem to be hearing much argument from you folks in the lair. At least you Bandita Buddies could stick up for me! What's that, Sven? Huh. It's so hard to understand him when he mutters in Swedish.

It's true. I do have a few, shall we say... *quirky* habits. Here are just a few of the more sane ones so I don't scare you too much:

1. I always have to say 'white rabbit' on the first day of a month before I speak to anyone or I'll have bad luck. And when I see the first star of the night (which my killjoy husband informs me is actually a planet, but anyhoo) I have to say that little wishing rhyme in my head.

Starlight, Star Bright
First Star I see tonight
Wish I may, Wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight

2. I don't use bookmarks. I used to splay novels (ones I hadn't borrowed from other people) face-down to keep the page I was up to but said husband threatened to divorce me for this. I acknowledged he had a point--not about the divorce but that kind of treatment does damage the spine of the book. So I now close the book and memorize the page number. :) Yeah, I know. Since I'm a writer with a lot of writer friends I have bookmarks coming out of my ears. You'd think I'd learn to use one.

3. I always cut my elder son's 2 slices of toast into 8 triangles and arrange them in a particular pattern on his plate for his breakfast. He won't eat the toast unless it's in the same pattern every day. I don't know who is responsible for this particular quirk but I think it probably started the day I first did it that way. Lesson to self: be careful of setting precedents like this because your mother-in-law will look at you strangely when you try to explain.

4. I get depressed if the sun stops shining for too long. When I finished my articled clerkship and was admitted as a solicitor, I wanted to go with my friends to London to work but I knew I couldn't live without Australian sunshine for that long. Nor could I live without said husband. *G* So I content myself with visits. Interestingly, we spent a month there a few years ago and it did not rain once.

5. I can't have clutter on my desk when I write. Nothing is more distracting. I can write with music blaring, in crowded places, with my husband interrupting to ask where he put something, with my kids riding their scooters and yelling outside. Heck I used to type with one hand and push the stroller back and forth with the other when they were babies. But write with lots of 'stuff' on my desk I cannot. And it's not that I'm a neat freak. I could have piles of washing behind me as I'm an expert in denial (in fact, I often do. Oops!) But what's in my line of vision has to be clutter free. (That's not my desk in the picture, by the way!) If it was my desk it would not even have that much clutter. It would have the laptop and a coffee mug and that's all. Maybe a refernce book, but only while in use.

So...am I alone in my insanity? Or are there other brave souls in the lair who might possibly own up to some little quirks of their own? And if you don't have quirks or don't want to share them, what are the most endearing or annoying hero or heroine quirks you've read in romance novels?

Oh, and be aware that there are plenty of writers watching, so be prepared to have your little quirk show up in a book sometime!

Pet Peeves... and a Moment of Zen

by Christine Wells

Do you find yourself getting irritated for very little cause these days?

When I worked in a legal firm, I would often put in twelve hour days and work on the weekends, too. Life was fast-paced and stressful. And I found myself getting irritated at the least little thing in the world outside that went against me. I had so many pet peeves, I could have filled a zoo.

I've left that life now, but I still feel the stress of deadlines and balancing writing and family life. We're about to start a house renovation and won't that do a lot to improve my blood pressure?

Here are just some of my pet(ty) peeves:

*People who leave the toilet seat up, which is closely tied to people who refuse to replace an empty toilet paper roll

*People who assume that because I am at home with children my time is less valuable than theirs

*Litter in public places--how hard is it to find a bin/trash can?

*People who spend the entire train ride talking loudly on their cell phone

*Rudeness from people in the "hospitality" industry.

*Sultanas. I wish sultanas had never been invented. Nasty, squishy little surprises that creep in to all sorts of food that would otherwise be delicious... Uh, sorry. See what I mean? The more stressed we get the more petty our peeves become.

But I realized one day that I need to let go of these small irritations to become a more effective writer. When your head is preoccupied with little things, it's very hard to get the creative brain working to its full capacity.

How do you let go of stress? I've found some things that work--exercise, especially yoga, hypnosis, meditation. I imagine a session with the boxing gloves would help(though the only time I tried it I couldn't lift my arms without pain for a week!)

Sometimes, all it takes is reminding myself that this time next week I'll have forgotten all about this particular incident. Have a little tolerance, for goodness' sake!

OK, so tell me your day to day pet peeves... and now tell me how you decompress. I'd love to add some strategies to my list!