Thursday, January 10, 2013
5 Questions With - Margery Scott!
PS: Isn't that cowboy-cover swoon-worthy? Yeah, wait til you read the excerpt below!
On with the interview!
Kristina: What do you wear when you're writing?
Margery: There's nothing worse than trying to be creative when I'm uncomfortable. In winter, I'm in sweats and fuzzy slippers. In summer, it's shorts, a tank top and bare feet. The look isn't very attractive, but since I'm hidden away in my office and not going to be seen in public, nobody notices .
Kristina: lol, Margery…I hear you on the comfort! When was the last time you argued with one of your characters? And were you caught by a real person?
Margery: I argue with my characters constantly, but I'm proud to say I've never been caught . A closed door helps.
Kristina: I"ll have to try that closed door thing…How do you keep gremlins – like your family – out of your office/writing habitat?
Margery: My problem isn't keeping people out of my office, it's me staying in. We're renovating, which means constant interruptions from my worker boys aka my husband and son. All day, I hear "can you come here?", "do you have a minute?" "I need you to hold this," etc. I don't dare complain, though, since the reno was my idea in the first place.
Kristina: Renovations are so much fun (yes, I'm a masochist!). But distracting, yes. Have you ever taken your frustrations with the Real World out on your characters?
Margery: Absolutely. It's nice to play God, even if it is fiction.
Kristina: Plus, we can always make it better, right? Hehe If you could be one character from this book, who would it be? And why?
Margery: Definitely Isabella. Who wouldn't want to be a woman a man can't forget, no matter how hard he's tried? And who wouldn't want to be lucky enough to find a man who would not only be your lover, but your best friend?
Kristina: Oh, sigh, that would be lovely…okay, give us the blurb:
Blurb for Cade:
When revenge leads Cade Morgan to hold up a stagecoach and kidnap his childhood friend, Isabella Morrow, he discovers his feelings for her are stronger than ever. He suspects Bella feels the same way, so why is she intent on marrying another man? And what kind of future can he offer her now that he's wanted by the law?
Excerpt from Cade:
"Bella and I will meet you later."
Isabella gasped. Bella? No one had called her by that name since she was a child. How did he know that? Was the masked man – Junior – someone she knew?
As Brown Hat kept his gun trained on Mr. Wick and the driver, Junior holstered his gun and approached her. Her pulse quickened. He leaned close to her, his breath brushing her cheek as he whispered in her ear.
"Don't fight me and you'll be safe."
Safe? Safe from whom? And how could she possibly be safe with a gang of outlaws? Heaven only knew what they intended to do with her. She dared a look at Mr. Wick, his back pressed against the side of the stagecoach, his eyes wide. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Obviously he was in no condition to help her.
And she would die rather than be subjected to … well, she didn't know exactly what they intended, but it couldn't be anything pleasant. Yet, something about this masked man seemed familiar, almost as though he was someone she could trust.
Still, she'd be a fool to surrender. "Don't touch me," she bit out, putting as much bravado into her voice as she could muster.
She could tell he was smiling beneath the mask. "I give you my word. I'm not going to hurt you if you come peacefully, but if I have to drag you …" He didn't finish the threat.
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because I give you my word."
"And I should believe the word of an outlaw?"
He stared at her for a long moment. "This outlaw, yes."
A strange sensation fluttered through her, as if a hummingbird had taken wing deep inside her. "I can't go with you," she said, "I'm getting married in two days." As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous she sounded. Why would an outlaw care about her wedding plans?
""I know. That's what I'm saving you from."
"I'm saving you from a life of misery as Mrs. Edward Dobson."
Her heart thundered in her ribs. Her cheeks flamed. How did he know about her wedding? "What do you know about Edward?"
"More than I have time to tell you right now," he said. "I imagine your wedding night will be something to remember. Or maybe one you'd rather forget." His eyes darkened, as if the thought of what was waiting for her when she reached town pained him.
What decent man mentioned the private acts between a man and a woman? She almost chuckled. Of course this man wasn't decent. Decent men didn't rob people at gunpoint and abduct women.
But he had made a point. Her wedding night. She'd heard the gossip about a woman's duties to her husband once she was married. She'd also heard Edward was a demanding – and aggressive – man. She wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but by the hushed tones and the gasps from the other ladies as they whispered details among themselves that she couldn't hear, she couldn't help but feel a little frightened.
And even though she didn't really believe the story she'd heard about Edward injuring one of the ladies at
Miss Minnie's so badly she'd never recover completely, she couldn't help the trepidation that washed over her when she thought about Edward's expectations in their marriage bed.
She was probably worrying about nothing. Surely her father would never encourage her to marry a man who wouldn't treat her well. And even though they were to be married within the week, Edward had never made any improper gestures toward her. Heavens, they'd barely even kissed.
Which was fine with her, she admitted sadly to herself. Instead of the tingling in her lips or the flush through her veins that the ladies had told her she should experience with a kiss, she'd felt nothing more than she'd feel if she'd kissed the barn door.
If she was being completely honest with herself, the thought of Edward's lips on hers, his hands roaming her body, his flesh against hers … She swallowed quickly, her hand covering her mouth as she sucked in a deep breath of warm, dry air to ward off the nausea that roiled in her stomach.
"Now, let's go." The outlaw's voice interrupted her thoughts.
Was this the answer to her prayers? Had the good Lord sent this outlaw to save her?
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