Spotlight & Giveaway: How to Best a Marquess by Janna MacGregor

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Janna MacGregor to HJ!

Hi Janna and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, How to Best a Marquess!

Hi HJ and everyone! I’m so tickled to be here today and celebrate my new release How to Best a Marquess.

Please summarize the book a la Twitter style for the readers here:

Imagine finding out your deceased husband had two other wives when he was married to you. He broke your trust, not to mention stole your dowry. With the only clue being a receipt for a prize-winning Hampshire pig, you have no one to turn to except your true love, the very man who jilted you eight long years ago! Prepare for a road trip romance where nothing is as it seems! Meet Beth Howell, the third widow in the Widow Rules series and Julian, the Marquess of Grayson.

Please share the opening lines of this book:

Blythe Elizabeth Howell had enough life experience to know when a situation was hopeless and when to take matters into her own hands. Determined, Beth marched up the steps of the lovely Palladian manse that belonged to the Marquess of Grayson.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

Since this is a road trip romance, there are a few stops on their itinerary.

• A fortune teller demands to tell Beth her fortune.
• There’s a pig they’re trying to find.
• An erotic statue of Pan is a “must-see” on their trip.
• A highwayman has a charming interlude with Beth and Grayson when their carriage breaks down.
• Beth doesn’t trust men. But Grayson might be the one to make her change her mind.

What first attracts your main characters to each other?

They were each other’s first and only loves. Beth loved how romantic Grayson was, even if he was poor as a church mouse. Grayson loved that Beth believed in him and his inventions. But then fate dealt them a hand that you can only describe as cruel and tore them apart.

Using just 5 words, how would you describe your main characters”love affair?

Cautious, steamy, patient, scorching, and inevitable.

The First Kiss…

With an expression of gravity he seldom wore, Grayson nodded once. With his familiar voice of reason, he said, “I don’t think you’re ruined. I never have.”

His words stole whatever remaining emotion she felt from her long diatribe. “Then what do you think I am?”

He clasped his arms behind his back and stared at the ground for a moment. Slowly, he raised his gaze to hers. “I think you’re opinionated, stubborn, and sometimes prickly.” He blinked twice, but his countenance continued to be serious. “You remind me of a scorpion I once saw in a book of animals. You sting when you feel threatened. You have a hard time laughing at yourself. Sometimes, you’re entirely too serious, and other times, I wonder if you have any feelings at all.”

She scoffed slightly. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a miserable job.”
“You’re also blunt.”

“Then why do you have anything to do with me?” She didn’t hide the hurt or the challenge in her voice. He was another man who’d failed her.

“I’ll tell you in a moment.” He studied her as if he could see inside her all the way to her heart, which had been battered and bruised by the men in her life. His gaze fell to her lips before he slowly raised it to her eyes.

If she didn’t care anymore, she’d prove it to him by doing something outrageous. She leaned closer. “Kiss me.” The challenge in her voice was clear.

“Kiss you?” His brow furrowed. “Would you like that?”

“What do you think?”

He chuckled softly. “All right. Where?”

“You know where,” she said bravely, knowing she’d
shocked him.

His gray eyes flashed with humor as he brushed his fingers across her cheek. “Here?”

“No.”

“Here?” This time, his lips met her forehead. “Lower,” she urged.

“Ah, here.” He kissed her nose.

The gentleness of his touch had her leaning into him where her softness met his hardness. Like a cat, she moved closer to rub against him. “A little lower.”

He pressed his lips to hers, and she sighed in relief.

His mouth molded over hers as if he were a starving man and she was the only nourishment he needed. She moaned as he deepened the kiss. When his tongue stroked hers, she could almost feel her feet lift off the ground, carrying her to a place where they were the only two that mattered. Her body thrummed. For the first time in her life, she needed to be closer or she feared she’d disappear into a puff of smoke.

Her kiss turned desperate, begging him to not stop until she recognized real passion and desire. All she wanted was to forget about all her disappointments.

He broke away, and a moan escaped her. His kisses could bring her to her knees. Finally, the sensual fog that had enveloped her seemed to dissipate. By then, he was panting as if she’d stolen his very breath.

“You asked why I have anything to do with you.” He cupped her cheek with his hand. “Because to me, you’re just about perfect.”

She had no idea how many seconds, minutes, or hours she stood there with her mouth open.

He’d insulted her earlier, but then his words had turned into one of the loveliest compliments she’d ever received in her life.

Without revealing too much, what is your favorite scene in the book?

The above “First Kiss” scene!!!

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would be absolutely crucial to include?

They would have to include the “steam” scene. Grayson designs steam engines, and Beth is quite intrigued with him and his work as you can tell.

“About last night,” she said.
“
What about it?” A playfulness came over him that softened his face. Yet his eyes seemed to smolder with a fire that could ignite her from within. “Did you want to discuss last night’s dinner conversation?”

My God, he wasn’t just handsome, but breathtaking when he looked at her like that. Somehow, she managed to shake her head.

“The food served?” His whisky-dark voice possessed the power to make her drunk just on his words.

“Stop teasing me,” she said.

“I don’t think I can.” He leaned closer. “I’ve become quite fond of the way your mouth twists when you’re trying to think of a retort.”

The silkiness of his voice mesmerized her. “I want to discuss . . . your kiss.”

“From last night?” he asked.

Her chest rose and fell with every breath betraying how affected she was by his nearness. “Your kiss . . . reminded me of one of your steam experiments.”

He chuckled. “How so?”

“It shows promise, but it’s not quite hot enough.” “You want hot?” The heat blazing from his eyes made her squirm in her seat. “The next time I kiss you, I’ll make you burn.”

She sat there with her mouth gaping and her entire body quivering as he stared at her with an intensity that left little doubt he’d deliver what he promised. His eyes raked over her mouth as if ready to claim her, causing her pulse to beat faster and faster.

Readers should read this book …

If you love a second-chance, road trip romance with an engineering marquess, a bit of mystery seasoned with a dash of danger, and where there’s only one bed with lots of steam, then you’ll love this standalone book in the Widow Rules series.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

My next release is a novella that will be featured in the upcoming charity anthology entitled Pride Not Prejudice. It features a stellar list of contributing authors and releases on June 6th. I’m currently working on a new series that features some of the characters in How to Best a Marquess and another new series that I can’t wait to tell you about!

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A signed copy of How to Best a Marquess. This giveaway is for the US only.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Grayson convinces Beth to have her fortune told when they stop at a country fair. Needless to say, it did not go well. Beth regretted it as soon as she stepped foot in the tent. It becomes a running joke throughout the book. Have you ever had your fortune told? If not, would you?

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Excerpt from How to Best a Marquess:

Chapter One

London, 1816
The Mayfair home of the Marquess of Grayson

Blythe Elizabeth Howell had enough life experience to know when a situation was hopeless and when to take
matters into her own hands.

Determined, Beth marched up the steps of the lovely Palladian manse that belonged to the Marquess of Grayson. Tonight proved that she must create her own future and define her own ideals of a perfect life. No longer would she abide by her brother’s edicts. Nor would she cower behind society’s machinations of her ruined reputation.

The only way to accomplish all of this was to convince the marquess to lend assistance and travel to Hampshire with her.

As soon as possible.

She’d laugh if it weren’t so ironic that she was turning to Grayson for help. Especially since he’d been the one to run from her all those years ago after he’d asked her to marry him.

With her brother insisting she marry again, drastic situations required drastic actions. Beth had vowed tonight that she would no longer delay. She would find the lost dowry that her late husband, Lord Meriwether Vareck, had taken with him when he’d left her after two weeks of marriage.

That dowry represented her freedom.

Her traitorous gaze ventured skyward as she studied the gray brick home that was as intimidating as its owner, Julian Raleah, the Marquess of Grayson.

He’d been the first man to ask her to marry him. She’d fancied herself quite in love with the marquess. Beth had found him honest, polite, with a hint of devilment in his eyes.

When her brother had refused the marriage, Grayson hadn’t tried to convince him. He’d simply left without saying goodbye.

She’d been devastated by his actions. Obviously, the blasted man hadn’t cared for her the way she’d cared for him.

But none of it mattered now. This was business and a chance for her to reclaim her dowry.

He was the one she’d ask for assistance since he was in the same position as she. He needed a fortune and so did Beth.

Yet the heartache still lingered. After Grayson had walked away without even fighting for her, she’d never
given any other man the same regard. It was as if she’d become an empty shell of who she once was.

But once she found whatever remained of her dowry, at least her reticule would be full.

Standing in front of the imposing black entrance doors, Beth straightened her shoulders, then knocked. Grayson helping her attain her goal was not a certain outcome. But he was the only person she could turn to.

He didn’t have a wife or a family. Nor did he have any commitments that would require him to remain in London. More importantly, they were not friends. Beth would classify their acquaintance as merely that—
confrères who had a past with each other. He would be the perfect partner in her bid to recover her lost dowry.

With a creak, one of the massive oak doors swung open.

“Good evening,” a man said. He must be the butler. In his early thirties with black hair and green eyes, he was
dressed in the Grayson livery.

“Is the marquess at home?” Beth nodded as she stepped across the threshold.

“Your name?”

“Beth Howell.”

He nodded, then smoothed his formal livery. “This way, my lady.”

“I’m a miss, not a lady,” Beth corrected him.

One black brow rose a fraction. “Come with me.” After a few steps, he stopped in the hallway. “I apologize for
my manners. Lord Grayson rarely has visitors. I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m Cillian Patrick, his
lordship’s butler.”

A hint of an Irish lilt colored his voice. But it was the twinkle in his eyes that gave Beth pause. He seemed delighted to have her here.

“Shall we?” Without waiting for her answer, he continued his path down the main hallway.

She followed. Though it was rather dark, there was enough light to see the contrast of faded wallpaper that
once had surrounded large paintings or perhaps family portraits. “Is the marquess redecorating?”

An exaggerated sigh of unerring patience escaped Cillian. “In a manner of speaking, Miss Howell.” He stopped outside an open door and waved her in. “Lord Grayson?” His earlier lilt had been replaced with a perfect formal accent. “Miss Howell to see you.”

The Marquess of Grayson glanced up from a journal, methodically replaced a quill pen in its stand, then rose
slowly from his desk.

With his great height and massive shoulders, Grayson intimidated most people. His perfectly angular cheekbones appeared sharp enough to cut a diamond. An appropriate comparison as his gray eyes glimmered in recognition. A hint of a smile pulled at his lips. His relaxed manner was in sharp contrast to his black formal wear. All the times she’d ever seen him, it was the only color he wore.

Odd. He must like to appear imposing, wearing all black except his shirt. It certainly lent him an air of formality.

“Miss Howell.” The low rumble of her name on his lips sent goose bumps across her flesh. He bowed slightly. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time?” A plate with a single meat pie sat next to his journal. “If I’ve interrupted your meal, I apologize.”

Her timing may not be perfect, but she wouldn’t leave until she said her piece.

An untied cravat dangled from his neck, revealing a glimpse of his bare chest. She forced herself to look away. It was unseemly that she noticed such a sight. Instantly, her body became overheated. The temperature in the room had risen by twenty degrees.

Hadn’t it?

Such an inconvenient thought didn’t even deserve consideration. Yet there was no denying how handsome he was. The candlelight enhanced the silver in his gray eyes, while his black hair gleamed. There was even a hint of danger about him in his state of undress.

This was simply ridiculous. Grayson was a beau from long, long ago. He was merely a man from her past.

Yet she would admit there had been a time when she’d have counted the hours until she would see him at a ton event and dance in his arms.

But not now.

He turned his back to her and faced a mirror behind his desk. Several times his reflected gaze latched with hers as if trying to divine her thoughts. He’d needn’t worry. Soon, he’d know what she wanted from him.

He quickly tied the neckcloth into a simple mathematical knot. When he turned to face her, a slight scowl
appeared. The earlier fire in his gray eyes had now transformed into smoldering embers.

“Won’t you sit down?” He lowered his voice. “Your lady’s maid is free to join us.”

“No need. She’s with my brother,” Beth said.

His eyes widened at the pronouncement. “Your brother requires your maid’s assistance?”

She cleared her throat, determined not to let him or this evening upset her even more. “No, of course not. She’s still at the house. I didn’t ask her to accompany me.”

“If anyone saw you come to an unmarried man’s house, they’ll reach to the wrong conclusion.”

“And what conclusion would that be?” She baited the bear when he pursed his lips into a thin line. For the most part, she didn’t care a whit for what he or anyone else thought.

At least, that was the attitude she exhibited to most people. The truth was her self-worth felt like a piece of metal. Every time she read about herself in the gossip rags, there was a new dent. It was exhausting being pummeled by rumors and judgments that she had no control over.

That’s why she needed to recover her dowry and get on with the rest of her life. If society thought her a woman of loose morals, that was their misjudgment and not hers.

“Thank you for your concern, but there’s no need.” She blinked, an outward appearance of calm as a storm of
nervousness raged within her. “I’ll only take a moment of your time. I have a proposal for you.” She straightened her shoulders in a show of emboldened self-confidence.

Grayson’s bergamot-orange scent followed her. She inhaled the fragrance and held her breath.

“You’re the only one I can turn to.” She closed the distance between them. “I wouldn’t ask if the situation
wasn’t dire.”

He nodded.

“Will you accompany me to Kingsclere? My former husband . . . I mean Lord Meriwether . . . left each of
his wives including me a packet of receipts. It’s a trail of where he spent his money. I believe those receipts hold the key to my dowry. I’ll make it worth your while.” The room turned deadly silent, but she refused to look away from him. She tightened her stomach in preparation. If he said no, she was determined not to collapse into a heap.

“I can’t do that.” Her gaze pierced his.

Her lungs burned from the breath she’d been holding. Slowly, she released it.

Bloody hell. Why couldn’t anything be easy?

“I’ll split whatever I find with you. Equal shares. My dowry was worth twenty thousand pounds.” In seconds,
she was in front of him. “Ten thousand pounds for each of us.” She hesitated for a moment. “I know you need the money as much as me.”

He shook his head once, then walked to the fireplace. He picked up a poker as if to tend the unlit fire, then discarded it. “I always need money,” he murmured.

It wasn’t for her ears, but she heard it anyway. That’s why he was perfect to accompany her. The truth was that a woman traveling alone was an easy target to be taken advantage of even if she minded her own business. As a viscount’s sister, she’d always had outriders and groomsmen to protect her. But this trip would not include any of those protections. Anyone who accompanied her she had to trust that they’d not tell her brother the true reason for travel. If she found her dowry, she had little doubt that St. John Howell would try to weasel her money into his own pocket.

She’d rather share her dowry with the devil before she’d give another shilling to her brother.

Even sharing with the man who had asked her to marry him, then had forsaken her the very next day, was better than sharing with her brother.

How much better?

Time would tell. She only hoped Grayson was worth the risk.

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Book Info:

Beth Howell needs to find her dowry, post haste. After her good-for-nothing first husband married her―and two other women, unbeknownst to them all―she’s left financially ruined and relegated to living with her brother, who cares more for his horses than he does his blood relatives. If Beth fails to acquire her funds, her brother will force her to marry someone fifty years her senior and missing half his teeth. She’d prefer to avoid that dreadful fate. But her now-deceased husband, Meri, absconded with her money mere days after their illegitimate marriage. To find it, Beth will have to leave town and retrace Meri’s steps if she’s to take her future into her own hands.

Julian Raleah, Marquess of Grayson, cares not a whit for social norms and generally growls at anyone in his path. Grayson has had a heart of stone ever since his engagement to Beth Howell went down in flames―long before she married that cad, Meri, and sealed her own fate for good. But now she’s on his doorstep, asking for use of his carriage and accompaniment on the hunt to find her lost dowry. Surely Grayson cannot go on the road with the woman who has occupied his thoughts for the past decade. Yet, knowing she needs him, how can he resist helping her this one last time? And maybe that’s just enough time to change the ending to their over-too-soon love story.
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Meet the Author:

Janna MacGregor was born and raised in the bootheel of Missouri. She credits her darling mom for introducing her to the happily-ever-after world of romance novels. Janna writes stories where compelling and powerful heroines meet and fall in love with their equally matched heroes. She is the mother of triplets and splits her time between Kansas City and Minneapolis with her very own dashing rogue and one smug, but not surprisingly, perfect pug. She loves to hear from readers.
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