Spotlight & Giveaway: The Devil To Pay by K. C. Bateman

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author K. C. Bateman to HJ!

Hi K. C. Bateman and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, The Devil To Pay!

 
Hello and thanks for having me!
 

Tell us about the book with this fun little challenge using the title of the book:

The Devil To Pay is a sexy, historical romantic adventure set in central Italy, 1492. Our hero is Alessandro del Sarto, a ruthless mercenary skilled in the art of conquest. Our heroine is Cara di Montessori, an independent heiress whose traitorous uncle has seized her home. Her only hope of regaining her birthright is an alliance with her childhood nemesis, the infamous mercenary Il Diavolo. Unfortunately, the two have a history; del Sarto’s the most irritating—and seductive—man Cara’s ever met.

What’s your favorite line(s) from the book?:

It’s so hard to choose! Cara and Alessandro have such wicked snarky banter. Here’s the moment they meet at the start of the book: Alessandro thinks Cara (who’s disguised under a cloak) is a whore, sent to his room. . .

Cara slid her hand up his ribcage, feigning a caress, and her blade found the spot under his armpit where the artery throbbed close beneath his loose shirt. She leaned into him, trying to ignore the press of her breasts against his rock-hard chest as she increased the pressure. Sharpened steel pricked flesh. Il Diavolo froze. And then, to her astonishment, she felt him smile; the faintest curve of his lips tightening against her throat.
“Put that away, sweeting. It’s a little late to defend your virtue.”
“I’m not here to defend my virtue,” she croaked.
His chuckle was soft against her skin. “Good thing, too. We both know it’s a distant memory.”
She pursed her lips. “You mistake my meaning. I want your attention, not your kisses.”
“Believe me, my lady, you have my undivided attention.” There was mockery in his tone, but whether it was aimed at her, or himself, she couldn’t tell.
Cara pulled back, just a fraction, curiosity warring with pique. “Aren’t you the least bit afraid I might kill you?”
He pushed aside her cloak and dropped a leisurely kiss onto her collarbone, still not looking at her face. “Many have tried. Give it your best. If you succeed, at least I’ll die happy.”

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

These two definitely love to hate each other!
Alessandro has desired / loved Cara secretly for years. He loves her fiercely independent nature and the fact that she’s always up to mischief. She brings laughter to his life. ” She brought out the playful devil in him, made him laugh, without even trying. He enjoyed her company, her quick wit and her unexpected reactions.” He also says: “She was bright and sweet and glowing. And for someone like him, who’d spent his entire life in darkness and intrigue, listening to her was as refreshing as the first sip of water to a parched throat after years in the wilderness.” Aww.

Cara, on the other hand, has desired del Sarto for years, even though she mistrusts him. She loves his strength, his sarcastic wit, and his competence. “She was cold without him. Cold and empty and bored. It was galling to realise how much she missed him, even the bossy infuriating bits. Their daily clashes had been exhilarating, something to get out of bed for in the mornings. Getting under his skin had become her favorite occupation.”
In fact, Cara actually lists all the things she likes about him in the book: “The most annoying part of all this was that, of all the traits she desired in a husband, Il Diavolo posessed more of them than any other man she’d ever met. He was undeniably handsome. Protective. Strong. He encouraged her reading and appreciated her military knowledge. He found her lack of feminine accomplishments amusing, instead of repellent. He made her laugh, made her feel safe.
She’d even appreciate his fiendishly clever mind if it were working with her, instead of against her, and she loved butting heads with him. The thrill of their verbal sparring, the challenge of testing her wit against his own, was thoroughly invigorating. The thought of leaving him, of never seeing him again, made her feel oddly wretched.”

When you sat down to start this book, what was the biggest challenge you faced? What were you most excited about?

I was excited to be writing in a completely different historical setting! My previous three books, (the Secrets & Spies series,) were all set in Napoleonic France and Regency England, circa 1816. I love that time period, but there are so many interesting things I can do with (and to!) my characters in the early 1600’s / Renaissance Italy that I can’t do in 19th century Europe. It was a time of both enlightenment, with glittering, civilized courts— and of very uncivilized behavior; with vendettas, mercenaries, fortresses, scheming and intrigue. How could I resist all that?! Reader, I couldn’t!

What, in your mind, makes this book stand out?

All About Romance says: “Ms. Bateman once again offers a masterclass in How to Create Smoking Hot Sexual Tension as Cara and Alessandro strike sparks off each other and trade quips, insults and witticisms that fly effortlessly back and forth. The author writes this sort of sexually charged banter incredibly well and makes it seem easy.” So that’s definitely a highlight!

For me, though, what makes The Devil To Pay stand out is the different time period. I’ve read so many historical romances set in the very narrow timeframes of Regency England, for example, or the Scottish Highlands, and I love many of them. But some of my very favorite romance books have been set in slightly unusual times or locations. Laura Kinsale has written Medieval England, Italian Renaissance, (Shadowheart) and Victorian Hawaii (Shadow and the Star). Connie Brockway’s fabulous ‘As You Desire’ and Loretta Chase’s ‘Mr Impossible’ are both set in Victorian Egypt. I think readers will really love the dramatic Renaissance setting of The Devil To Pay – and the feisty banter between Cara and Alessandro as they unsuccessfully try to resist the other’s charms!

The First Kiss…

Well, TECHNICALLY I tease the reader a little here (my bad!) Is it a kiss? An almost-kiss? To set the scene, Cara’s wounded and has come to demand Il Diavolo’s help. Alessandro demands an exorbitant fee, and says that she must act as his hostess and mistress for two whole weeks. Cara accepts, knowing she won’t go through with the plan. . .

He held his arms out to the sides, offering himself. “In that case, I’m all yours. Let’s seal our bargain, shall we?”
Cara extended her hand forward to shake. He ignored it and stepped in. Her fingers grazed the front of his breeches and she snatched her arm back as though she’d been scalded. She glanced up, cheeks burning, and found his strange, blacker-than-black eyes staring down at her, intense and unfathomable.
“Not like that.” He slipped one hand under her hair and cradled the back of her head.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he drew her closer.
Cara held herself completely still. He was going to kiss her! Alessandro del Sarto, her hero, her nemesis, was going to kiss her! She’d been waiting for this moment for six long years.
His lips were warm and slightly rough.
Cara closed her eyes, determined to savor the sensation—to see if it really was as good as she remembered—but annoying little swirling pinpricks began to dance behind her eyelids. She tried to ignore them, to concentrate on the kiss, but her knees began to buckle. She barely managed to stop herself from groaning in frustration as she sagged back against his supporting arm.
Del Sarto frowned down at her. “What’s the matter? Christ, you’re not going to faint, are you?”
She managed a scornful frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never fainted in my entire life.” She tried to blink away the tunnel narrowing her vision. This was just typical. Here she was, finally getting the kiss of her dreams, and she was making a mess of it.
Except the darkness was irresistible. Cara surrendered to it with a resigned sigh.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

Ooh, I’d use this – one of my favorite scenes in the book. Cara’s stolen Alessandro’s prized warhorse and escaped from his castle. She knows he’ll be in hot pursuit. This scene is a great representation of the dynamic between the two of them – the frustration, the ever-present desire, the teasing and the humor in their relationship. These two strike sparks off each other and make me laugh while doing it!

Cara pulled off her dress and bundled the expensive material into one of the saddlebags. The early morning air was cool against her exposed skin and she shivered in just the thin cotton shift and flimsy half-bodice. She hitched her underskirts over her knees and bunched them around her waist so they wouldn’t get wet.
A twig snapped and she jumped, then let out a relieved sigh as a bird fluttered low over the water. No reason to be so nervous. There was no one to see her for miles.
She urged Saraceno into the shallow water and the stallion moved forward, stepping carefully on the sandy shingle that lined the bottom. The water rose, first to the horse’s knees, then to its belly. At the center of the stream the water lapped the horse’s chest.
Cara had just taken her feet out of the stirrups and balanced them up on the saddle to stop them getting wet when she heard the most horrifying sound she’d ever heard in her life.
It was laughter, deep and rich, accompanied by slow, sarcastic applause.
She cursed in every single language she could think of.
A shrill whistle sounded from the undergrowth and Saraceno stopped dead.
Cara turned around and of course, it was him. Her worst nightmare. Waiting on the bank behind her, as if he had all the time in the world.
Another whistle. The traitorous horse turned around. No amount of kicking or tugging on the reins could make it turn back. Cara shrieked in frustration.
“Miss me?” Del Sarto called.
“No!”
“I was talking to the horse,” he said dryly. “Congratulations on getting so far, though.”
Cara ignored him. It wasn’t easy; she was facing him, on an uncontrollable mount, in the middle of a freezing cold river. She tried to turn Saraceno’s head again but the stubborn thing stood still as a statue.
Del Sarto laughed. “Don’t waste your energy. He’s too well trained to ignore my commands.”
Too late, Cara recalled the perfectly executed bow the horse had made the day she climbed down the tree. Damn and Blast and Bloody Hellfire.
“You realize stealing a horse is an offence punishable by death?”
“I was only borrowing him! I’d have sent him straight back, when I’d reached—”
“St. John’s? Your uncle will be having it watched.”
“I know that! I wasn’t going to ride up to the front gates. I know plenty of ways to get in and out without being seen.”
“Of course you do. Still, I can’t let this crime go unpunished. It’s the principle of the thing.”
“You don’t have any principles!”
He held up one hand to silence her. “Can you swim?”
She narrowed her eyes at the innocuous question. “Of course. ”
He whistled again. Saraceno began to sink down into the water. “Take a deep breath!” he shouted cheerfully.
“Don’t you dare—!”
Her shriek of outrage was cut short as the devil horse sat right down in the icy current, fully immersing them both. She gasped in shock. Her hands slipped on the wet leather as the horse rolled sideways, neatly dislodging her from its back. Submerged in the frigid water, she made a desperate grab for the pommel, but the fast-flowing current snatched it from her fingers and she went under. She resurfaced, coughing and spluttering, only to hear del Sarto whistle again.
Saraceno, the deceitful beast, stood up, splashed past her, mounted the bank and shook himself vigorously. Del Sarto patted his wet neck and the horse snorted in pleasure.
“Good boy! That will teach the bad lady to steal you away.”
Her bare feet found purchase on the rocky bottom as she belatedly realized the water was only up to her chest. She considered pretending that she couldn’t swim, just to make him jump in and rescue her, but discarded the idea. Del Sarto wouldn’t get himself wet to stop her from drowning. He’d just watch and laugh.
Snarling, she glanced at the opposite bank, weighing her chances. She couldn’t get far without a horse, but any plan that annoyed him seemed like a good one.
He read her mind. “Don’t even think about it. You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you make me come after you. I promise you won’t like it.”
She gritted her teeth and set out towards him. “I am going to kill you, del Sarto,” she said sweetly. “Maybe not today, but soon. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it. You should watch your back.”
He grinned, unrepentant. “Brave words, coming from someone looking like a drowned rat. Have you forgotten your vows to me so soon? I distinctly remember there being something in that oath of allegiance about safeguarding my life and limb. That includes from yourself.”
Cara swallowed another mouthful of water and started splashing through the shallows towards him.

If your hero had a sexy-times play list, what song(s) would have to be on it?

OK, let’s assume I’m not stuck with Renaissance-era tunes (because there’s really nothing sexy about a harpsichord madrigal!) Alessandro’s a sexy, sneaky, cynical hunk of Italian manhood. Like many physical men he’s outwardly fierce—and a reluctant softy on the inside, for the right woman. How about Charlie Puth / Meghan Traynor’s “Let’s Marvin Gaye (and get it on)”? It’s sexy, cheeky, and exactly what Alessandro would be thinking at a time like that. Let’s just DO it already!

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

That sexy, funny, enemies-to-lovers capers can be set in Renaissance Italy just as well as in a Regency ballroom! Break out of your hist-rom comfort zone and give it a go!

What are you currently working on? What are your up-coming releases?

Ha! Well, after all that harping on about different time periods . . .I’m writing another three-book series set in Regency London for St. Martin’s Press. I know! I know. But I DO love that era. And in my defense, it’s not all carriages and ballrooms. The series is called THE BOW STREET BACHELORS, and it follows three aristocratic second sons who undertake investigations for Bow Street – England’s fledgling police force.
There are Earls, of course, and bastard Dukes. And diamond-thieving heroines, and sexy times in underwater submarines (yes, really!) and all sorts of marvelous skullduggery. I’m half way through book 2 now and I’m so excited by this series. Just as in The Devil To Pay, and my Secrets & Spies series, these books have my favorite badasses-in-bodices heroines and hot, snarky heroes. In fact, I’d better get back to the keyboard. Those gorgeous rogues don’t write themselves, you know.

For those who want more exotic locations, I’m also writing an Egypt-set Victorian novella as part of an anthology to be released early next year, called ‘The Curse of the Red Scorpion’. Think intrepid female cartographer (mapmaker), and the exasperated Indiana-Jones hero who’s sent to rescue her. Again.

The anthology will include books from some of my author besties, including a Medieval Highlander romance from USA Today bestseller Suzan Tisdale and a paranormal from USA Today bestseller G.P Ching! Join my newsletter or follow my social media links for updates.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: One random commenter on this post will receive their choice of an either an e-book or a signed print book of The Devil To Pay. Giveaway open to anywhere in the world!

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: I love discovering new time periods through reading historical romances. If you could go back in time to any period in history, where would you go?

 
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Excerpt from The Devil To Pay:

All right. Here’s the REAL first kiss between Cara and Alessandro. During hand-to-hand combat, of course!

When he advanced again, Cara closed her eyes, pulled back her fist, and punched him as hard as she could in the face. Pain shot through her knuckles at the contact. Sweet Lord! She’d just broken every bone in her hand!
The crowd bayed with delight. She opened her eyes to see him clap one hand to his nose. The pain was worth it; blood dripped from between his fingers. She shook her wrist to try to restore some feeling and treated him to her finest smirk. “Do you yield, my lord?”
He gave the smear of red a disbelieving glance before wiping his upper lip on the sleeve of his shirt. A dangerous smile hovered at the corners of his mouth as he sketched her a mocking bow. “Nice move. We’ll make a mercenary of you yet.”
“No thank you,” she panted, bracing her hands on her knees as she struggled for breath. “I have better things to do with my time.”
He swung his sword so fast she barely had time to block it; the blow shuddered all the way up to her shoulder blades. Cara staggered backwards, her ankle turned on an uneven patch of ground, and with a yelp of dismay she landed flat on her backside. Del Sarto knocked her blade aside and she watched in mute horror as it tumbled point-first into the soft ground, just out of reach. He grabbed her arm and hauled her upright.
They were both panting hard. He was hot and sweaty, covered in dust, and as she looked up into his hooded gaze she felt hot too. Hot and restless and violent.
“Now do you yield?” His eyes were dancing with laughter and something else she didn’t dare identify.
She shook her head.
He pressed his mouth to hers. It could hardly be called a kiss; it was swift and punishing, a symbol of dominance and possession. A cheer went up and Cara belatedly realized that almost everyone in the castle had gathered to witness her humiliation.
“Do. You. Yield?” He enunciated each word.
She still had her knife in her boot. She could stab him in his injured shoulder. But if she did that, he would lose face in front of his men, and she needed his deadly reputation—and his sword arm—intact if he was to beat her uncle.
He interpreted her silence as another refusal. His mouth lowered to hers once more and Cara braced herself for another assault, but this kiss was nothing like the first. His breath shimmered over her lips like ripples over the surface of a pond and then his lips brushed hers, petal-soft.
Her heart stilled. Such gentleness from a man with so much physical strength was glorious. Unexpected. Irresistible.
A sudden urgency siezed her. He might never kiss her again. She would escape, and he’d probably go and die in some stupid battle somewhere and never come back to haunt her.
Not acceptable.
Cara bunched her hands in the front of his shirt, opened her mouth, and kissed him back.
His inarticulate growl, deep in his throat, turned her knees to water. The hand on her arm tightened, and his tongue swept inside her mouth, dancing in and out in some strange, erotic rhythm that was new and yet, somehow, achingly familiar. Cara gasped. He was claiming her. Branding her.
Well, she’d claim him right back.
The kiss became a battle for supremacy. The whole world dissolved and narrowed to his lips, his tongue, his breath in her mouth. It was darkness and sin, promise and fulfilment, all rolled into one swirling red-black vortex. The whole world tilted on its axis.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, del Sarto pulled away and Cara’s wits returned with the dash of cold air. The sound of the crowd intruded and the reality of their public position made her cringe in embarrassment. She glanced at the sky for impending thunderbolts, this time aimed at her, for being so monumentally stupid.
The corner of his lips curled upwards into that irritating half-smile. “Well, that was interesting.”
She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, then raised it to hit him again, just for good measure. “I hate you!”
He caught her fist and kissed her knuckles in a parody of a courtly greeting—which elicited more cheers from the crowd at his tomfoolery. Cara dragged the hand back and hid it behind her. The spot he’d touched throbbed as though burned.
“You don’t hate me,” he taunted. “You hate what I do to you.”
Her heart missed a beat as he wiped the pad of his thumb over her lower lip and she watched in horrified fascination as a bright smear of blood stained his fingertip. He brought it up to his mouth and licked it clean, his eyes brimming with secrets and complicity. Heat pooled between her legs. It was barbaric, what he did.
“I find fighting with you strangely arousing,” he murmured. “Next time you draw my blood, in fact, next time you show me any act of aggression, I’ll treat it as an invitation. Clearly the way to subdue you is through kisses rather than blows.” He raised his voice so all those present could hear. “Do you yield?”
Cara bit back her instinctive denial. Her submission now was the most politic option if she wanted to regain her home. She let out a disgusted sigh. “Yes.”
He gave a satisfied nod, placed his hands on his hips, and glanced pointedly at the grass in front of him. She knew what he wanted. On shaking legs she bent and kneeled, her gaze fixed on his boots. Then pride kicked in and she raised her eyes to his. She would not be cowed. He might have won this battle, but the war was far from over.

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Italy, 1492.
A ruthless mercenary skilled in the art of conquest.
An heiress who refuses to be tamed.
A wickedly sexy bargain . . .

Cara di Montessori has a price upon her head. Her traitorous uncle has murdered her father and seized her home. Her only hope of survival, and of regaining her birthright, is an alliance with her childhood nemesis, the infamous mercenary Il Diavolo. The most irritating—and seductive—man Cara’s ever met.
Battle hardened and world-weary, Alessandro del Sarto has earned the sobriquet Il Diavolo. He needs a politically expedient marriage to secure the lasting peace he craves, but the simpering ladies of court hold little interest. More than anything, he longs for a challenge.

Headstrong beauty Cara has always been Il Diavolo’s only weakness, the one woman he’s never been able to forget. When she appears at his door begging for help, the two strike a devil’s bargain. In return for his assistance, for two weeks Cara must entertain his guests, relieve his boredom—and warm his bed.

Cara has no intention of succumbing to del Sarto’s studied seduction, but the passion that simmers between them is more potent than her paper twists of gunpowder. Surrounded by danger and intrigue, she must choose between what she’s always thought of as her destiny, and what could be the greatest prize of all—her heart’s desire.

From #1 Bestselling author K C Bateman comes a romantic adventure filled with passion, vengeance, and redemption.
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Meet the Author:

Kate Bateman, writing as K. C. Bateman, is the #1 Amazon bestselling author of Regency and Renaissance historical romances, including To Steal a Heart, A Raven’s Heart and A Counterfeit Heart. She’s also an auctioneer and fine art appraiser, the co-founder and director of Bateman’s Auctioneers, a fine art and antiques auction house in the United Kingdom. She currently lives in Illinois with her husband and three inexhaustible children, but returns to England regularly to appear as an antiques expert on several popular BBC television shows, each of which reaches up to 2.5 million viewers.
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