I'm just your average goof who loves historical romance!
2. Tell us about your new book?
Alexander Fitzhugh is a bear of a man, quite content to spend his time with his sturdy mistresses. When both his father and his cousin begin to pester the rakehell to fulfill his obligation to produce an heir, he balks at the idea of having to select his bride from the dainty debutantes of the Season. Thinking to eventually find a robust widow, he is not prepared for the campaign launched upon him by "Bill", a petite blonde vixen who already has more than enough young swains dancing to her tune; nor is he prepared for the raging desire and protectiveness she evokes in him.
Lady Wilhemina Kirkpatrick, or Willy as her intimates call her, is enjoying her first Season and plans to find a suitable rogue to teach her the art of becoming a flirt. Once she sets eyes on Alexander Fitzhugh however, the headstrong young lady quickly decides the earl will be the perfect match for her. Undaunted by his surly behavior toward her, for she has seen the blatant passion burning in his eyes, she contrives to ensnare the acrimonious lord and everyone knows - what Willy wants, Willy gets!
3. When you write, does your real life spill over into your book at any time?
For sure. In all different kinds of aspects! From emotions to relationships to 'bout everything else!
4. Do you think about a book of yours, being made into a movie, or not when writing?
When writing the story, no. It would make my tiny brain explode!
5. When naming your characters, do you give any thought to the actual meaning?
I wouldn't call it "meaning" for the name selection as it only has a real name for me but yes. Each character needs to have the appropriate name.
6. What made you want to write and also what made you want to write the genre you are writing?
Writing is ingrained in me. I have written poems, stories, lyrics since I was a child. I discovered historical romance when I was in my teens and found a new reading home!
7. If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
There are just too many. Writers are the most generous , giving, helpful people in the world!
8. Do you have any tips for our readers that might dream of writing?
Go for it! You learn writing by writing. And please reach out to the writing community! They are so generous and willing to help.
Again Thank You so much
You can find Lori at the below locations
Dedicate to my mother, Janet Kalaf.
“You’ve killed me.”
Alexander Fitzhugh, the twelfth Earl of Stapleton, lay sprawled naked and panting on the large pink bed, his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He lifted one large hand and pushed unruly dark hair from his brow.
The nude girl beside him stretched, making him think of a lazy cat enjoying the sunshine.
“That’s what you say every time, my lord.” She raised herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. With her free hand, she played with the dark fur covering his chest.
“Will you stay to dine tonight?”
Alex smiled tenderly at his mistress. “Sorry, pet. I’ve got other plans.” He sat up and stared around the newly redecorated room. “Did it have to be pink this month, Jenny? I fear it will give me a palsy.”
Jenny laughed. “I’m afraid I got carried away. Next month I shall let you pick the color.”
Her sidelong glance told him she wondered if Alex would object to her inference their arrangement would continue. Some men shied off if they thought their mistresses were getting too attached. She had been careful before now not to make any such comments in the four months he had provided for her. She shouldn’t fret. There were clearly no signs he was tiring of her yet, especially given the number of times he had just roared with pleasure.
Alex yawned and rose from the bed feeling wonderfully sated. He realized he was lucky to have found a lover who accommodated him so well and so willingly. Of course, he was always careful to seek out sturdy mistresses who could withstand his large size and lusty appetites, but still Jenny was quite a catch with her easy nature and passionate responses. Besides, she was a damned fine cook.
“I should probably get meself going. Bella will be quite put out with me if I’m late.”
“You will see the duke and duchess tonight?” Jenny rose from the rumpled bed and wrapped her voluptuous body in a white negligee. The pale covering accentuated her dark brown hair and honeyed skin. She told Alex her coloring came from her Sicilian father, but he doubted she had a clue as to her heritage.
Alex picked up his clothing from the floor. “Yes, I have to go and see little Alex. He’s crawling now and nearly ready to walk.” He pulled on his trousers and then his shirt. “His birthday is coming. I shall have to find something dreadfully outrageous to give him. Where the devil are my shoes?”
Within fifteen minutes, Alex, having found one shoe behind the chaise lounge and the other almost in the fireplace, took leave of his mistress and strolled the short distance home to change for dinner with his cousin and her husband. He still found it amusing that the former rakehell, his boyhood friend, had finally succumbed to the blissful state of matrimony with Alex’s own dear relative. It had certainly taken quite a bit of work to get the duke to overcome his jaded opinion of women and see that he was in love with Bella. Thank goodness his friend’s mother had made her son realize the extent of his feelings.
Alex grinned as he walked along, absently nodding to the occasional passerby, remembering how his friend’s mother and his father had spent so much time together at the duke and his cousin’s wedding nearly two years ago. He had ribbed his father afterward about the lovely and outspoken widow. Father had confessed the attraction between them had been strong, but had said he was content with his life as it was — his mistress waiting for him in Scotland — and Father hadn’t thought the widow wanted to marry again. Though his father had passed it off as a simple flirtation, Alex had his doubts, sensing his father and his friend’s mother were more than a little interested in each other.
Upon entering his large house, Alex was greeted by his butler.
“Good evening, my lord.” Brisby bowed to his master. “We feared you neglected to remember this evening’s dinner engagement as the hour approaches so very rapidly.”
Alex snorted at the old fellow’s subtle scolding. “Don’t be an idiot. Bella would skin me hide and don’t I know it, if I missed dinner without so much as a by-your-leave.”
“Of course, my lord.”
The gray haired, plump servant bowed again. Alex always thought the fellow looked as if he would burst into tears at any moment, he was so very mournful. If the man hadn’t been so bloody good at his job, Alex might have sacked him years ago. But now he was amused by the dour fellow’s occasional disapproving remarks.
Alex climbed the broad stairs and walked down the oak-paneled hallway to his room, his long stride eating up the distance.
“What shall it be tonight, Georgie?” he asked as he entered his grand bedchamber and moved to the armoire. His lanky valet was quicker and opened the doors for his master, pulling out a gold satin vest and dark green evening coat, displaying the outfit proudly. Young George tended to be amusingly conceited about how he turned Alex out.
“Excellent choice, my boy.”
The boy beamed at the praise.
After washing up, Alex was again on the move, now smartly dressed in the coat and vest accompanied by neat black trousers and a crisp white shirt. He arrived at the Atherton household precisely on time as was his habit. The butler bowed Alex into the impressive gold and white foyer, the blazing light from the crystal chandelier shining off the servant’s bald head.
“My Lord Stapleton, how dapper you look this evening. The peacocks in the park were surely quite impressed.”
Alex chuckled at the fellow’s dry tone. “Quite, Tilbot. They all folded their tails in me honor, don’t you know. Where is my little namesake and his proud parents?”
The elegant servant ushered Alex into the drawing room. “They are all cooing in here, my lord.”
“Alex.” Isabella rose from her place on the floor beside her son and stepped forward to hug him. The auburn haired beauty smiled up into his face. “Look how our little lord is standing so well.” She indicated the child, who stood clutching the edge of an ottoman while chewing on the wood rim, with a wave of her hand. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
“He’s eating the bloody furniture, Bella. How can that be so wonderful?” Bella’s husband’s proud smirk belied his caustic words. Rafe, the Duke of Devonshire, crouched near the boy, ready to catch him should he topple over. The duke spared a glance at Alex. “Hello there, Big Alex.”
Alex laughed at the little family. “Bella, my girl, you’re radiant as always. Has that pompous windbag of a husband been treating you well?” He looked her over as if expecting to find some sign of neglect on the part of his friend.
Isabella issued a throaty chuckle, ignored the lusty growl from her husband, and gave Alex a smug smile. “He treats me like a queen, which is as it should be. I am, after all, the mother of his precious heir.”
“Quite. She did extremely well, her first try.” Rafe looked up at his wife and grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. “We shall have to see, though, how things go the next time. She could be sent to the kitchens if I don’t get an imitation of her. An exact little duplicate, that’s all I’m asking for, love. It’s not so much to do for so wonderful a husband such as me. Is it, Big Alex?”
Bella tapped her foot, hands on her hips, and rolled her eyes. Little Alex, having chewed enough on the fine mahogany, let out a loud squeal and released his hold on the footstool. His doting papa caught him before he could take a tumble.
Alex shook his head. “Hello, Little Alex. Would you like to come see me?” The little black haired boy held out his arms to his mountainous relative without hesitation. “That’s right,” Alex said as he scooped up the child. “There’s something in my pocket for you, little man.”
“Now, don’t you dare give him sweets, cousin.”