Spotlight & Giveaway: THE DUKE GETS DESPERATE by Diana Quincy

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Diana Quincy to HJ!

Hi Diana Quincy and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, THE DUKE GETS DESPERATE!

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Raya is a young Arab-American woman from New York City who unexpectedly inherits an English castle from a cousin she’s never met. But she quickly learns life is no fairy tale. The castle is dilapidated and running out of money, and the furious duke who lives there believes the castle is rightfully his. The two clash immediately in classic enemies-to-lovers style. There’s lots of angry kissing and Raya is surprised to learn that she finds dirty talk to be shockingly arousing…
 

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

The plotline for The Duke Gets Desperate was inspired by a true story. In 1993, at the reading of his father’s will, the new Earl of Cawdor learned that the family castle had been left to his father’s second wife rather than his eldest son. The new earl got the 60,000-acre estate but his stepmother got the castle. The two parties have been fighting ever since. Although the castle has been in the family for 600 years, the stepmother is legally entitled to sell the castle or leave it to anyone she wants when she dies. When I read an article about this ongoing feud between the earl and his stepmother, I knew it was the perfect set up for an enemies-to-lovers historical romance!

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

The Duke Gets Desperate is a classic case of opposites attract. Raya represents American boldness and ingenuity while Strick is more like England, old school and traditional. At first, Strick finds Raya’s interest in trying new money-making ventures to restore the old castle to be crass. But he later comes to appreciate her business acumen. And, of course, he is physically attracted to her almost immediately! Raya is attracted to Strick’s love of the land, scholarship in antiquities, and his bad boy vibes…especially when he talks dirty to her.

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

I wanted to make Raya and Strick’s love story feel unique to them, and that includes giving them love scenes that feel authentic to who they are. I came up with a scene involving a full-length mirror, ancient golden jewelry and a footstool, that definitely makes me blush. Several people who’ve read early copies of the book have mentioned this scene, which makes me feel like I accomplished what I set out to do.

Readers should read this book….

Because it gives you everything you love about historical romance while also adding a sprinkling of something new and entertaining given that Raya is an Arab-American, which helps inform her choices. Add in dirty talk, angry lovemaking, a dash of humor and a lingering mystery, all of which I hope will keep people up reading late into the night.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

Next is the story of Strick’s friend, the Earl of Hawksworth, who came back a changed man after a trip to Philadelphia several years ago. I don’t want to give too much away, but who and what caused that change will result in a story that I hope will give off vibes similar to Jane Austen’s Persuasion.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: (1) One Print copy of THE DUKE GETS DESPERATE (US only please).

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Excerpt from THE DUKE GETS DESPERATE:

The Duke of Strickland flung the hammer down with a loud clank.

“What the devil are you doing here?” he barked. Perspiration dampened his disheveled dark golden hair. Most people would look a mess in his place, but his current state gave the duke a disconcerting raw appeal.

She snatched her gaze away, staring into the fire pot, then at the dings on the old iron anvil, anywhere but the duke’s angry expression . . . or his magnificent athletic form. “I apologize.” Her cheeks burned even hotter, which shouldn’t be possible. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the duke snatch up a white shirt and drag it over his
head, covering himself. “And yet, once again I find you where you shouldn’t be.”

How dare he admonish her as if she were a child?

“Is it I who should not be here?” she retorted. “Or
is it you?”

His neck flushed, matching the color of his heatreddened face. “The forge is still mine.”

She belatedly realized there was another man at work near the blazing fire. He’d also relinquished his shirt. He had a fine form, but his bare skin had no effect on her, except to provoke embarrassment for intruding on half-dressed men.

The duke followed her gaze. “You shouldn’t be here.” He came around from the workbench. “I will see you back to the castle.”

“That will not be necessary.” She drew herself up. “I can find my own way back.”

“Derek,” he called to the other man, “I shall see you later to finish up.”

The man’s curious gaze cut from the duke to Raya. “Very good, Your Grace.”

Feeling like she had no other choice, Raya fell in step beside the duke. Heat seemed to radiate off of
him.

“I do not know how it is in America,” he said brusquely, “but in England it is unseemly for unmarried young women to be in company with gentlemen in various states of undress.”

“It is the same in America,” she said, her voice as dry as sand. It was even more inappropriate
among the Arabs. “We are not barbarians. I hardly make a habit of ogling half-dressed men.”

The fortress hovered over them, two massive stone towers flanking the three-story structure like soldiers standing sentry. Raya craned her neck to take it all in.

“I cannot believe this is a family home.”

“Fortifications such as Tremayne aren’t meant to be private abodes. They were built as a demonstration of power and wealth, and to entertain visitors who would then be in awe of the wealth and
power on display.”

“The builders certainly succeeded in making the castle intimidating.” Were they actually having a
civilized conversation? “How many rooms does it have?”

“One hundred and ninety-seven.”

She sucked in a breath. The enormity of the property was hard to grasp. Just the great hall alone was bigger than most decent-sized houses in Brooklyn.

“And what are your plans?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject. The sun slanted against his hair, making it look like spun gold. “To stay here in England indefinitely, separated from your family?”

“To be frank, I am not sure. I came for a visit. I didn’t expect to inherit a castle.” She scanned the structures around them. “What are all these buildings?”

“Some, like the old malt house, are vacant.” He pointed around them. “That’s the barn, as you probably surmised.”

Raya knew what a barn was. “And those are used to shelter animals?”

He nodded. “And their feed and other supplies.”

He pointed to the other outer buildings, his manner brusque but not unpleasant. “Those are the stables, that’s the brewery, the bake house, sawmill, the dairy and, of course, you are familiar with the forge.”

“What happens in the sawmill and the dairy?”

She’d already witnessed firsthand what work went on in the forge.

He explained the functions of each structure and even escorted her inside for a look. The workers
treated the duke with great deference while seeming confused about how to respond to her.

The dairy had rows of milk bowls laid out in various states of making cream and cheese. In the sawmill, workers stripped bark from logs and cut wood into various sizes. She was surprised to learn that one structure was devoted to weaving. Inside, a lone older woman worked a loom in the deserted-looking space.

“The castle has its own weavers?” she asked as they stepped back out into the sunshine.

“It used to be a much more robust operation,” he replied. “Now it is just Betsy. There is little for her to do.”

“Why do you keep her on?”

“Betsy has been with the Carey family since she was a little girl. Her father was the master loomer before her. I cannot turn Betsy out. She would not be able to find work elsewhere.”

“It’s like a small village all on its own,” Raya said. “Tremayne is very impressive.”

“We’ve had to be self-sufficient in order to survive. In the event of a siege, the castle had to hold for months. There needed to be enough stores to see the castle through.” His pride for the place of his birth shone with every word. “Tremayne has never fallen. Not once in 400 years.”

“You love it here.” It wasn’t a question. The duke’s affection for the decrepit property was palpable. But then why didn’t he take better care of it? Why hadn’t he repaired and refurbished the inside? The walled garden was lovely but untended and overgrown. Why had he allowed the place he treasured to fall into disrepair?

“Of course, I treasure my home,” the duke answered. “Tremayne has been in my family for centuries. This place is in my blood.”

And yet Deena left the castle to Raya, a complete stranger. Guilt waved over her. Yes, Tremayne was
legally hers, but what right did Raya really have to take this man’s home. She couldn’t blame Strickland for resenting her. In a way, hadn’t Salem done something similar to Raya?

Mr. Price’s insinuations rolled around in her head. “Did Deena hate you?”

Surprise lit his eyes. “You are very direct,” he said gruffly. “It would be fair to say that we did not get on.”

“Is that why she left everything to me, someone she’d never met? To get back at you?”

A muscle ticked in his left cheek. “We shall never be able to ask Deena why she did what she did.” He paused. “And she didn’t leave it all to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“She left the castle to you. That includes the gardens and a small meadow beyond the formal gardens. However, all of the surrounding land and properties, including all of these outer buildings and the houses rented to our tenant farmers, are mine. My father left them to me.”

Raya gaped at him. “But why would he do that? Even I can see that the castle cannot exist without what the land provides for it.”

“Exactly.” The duke wore a grim expression. “And Deena knew that as well. She’s left us in a situation in which neither of us can exist without the other.”

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Diana Quincy returns with a steamy affair between an Arab-American woman who inherits a run-down castle in the English countryside and the duke who asserts the castle is his, in the first book in a brand-new Victorian historical romance series.

Anthony Cary, Duke of Strickland, inherits his spendthrift father’s title and can finally restore the family castle to its former glory. But at the reading of the will, Strick is stunned to learn that his father has secretly disentailed him, leaving the family manor—home to twelve generations of dukes—to Strick’s American stepmother. Everyone knows Strick detests the dowager duchess, and when she dies mysteriously, damning rumors start to surface.

When Raya Darwish unexpectedly inherits her glamorous late cousin’s castle in the English countryside, she clashes with the charismatic young duke who insists the castle is rightfully his. The estate is practically bankrupt, so she must find a way to work with the duke in order to save both of their futures.

The two cannot stand each other, but mutual disdain soon gives way to desire. When questions arise about how her cousin died, Raya cannot help wondering if Strick’s sudden unbridled passion for her is part of a scheme to get his castle back…
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Meet the Author:

Bestselling author Diana Quincy is a former television journalist who decided she’d rather make up stories where a happy ending is always guaranteed.

Diana grew up all over the world as the daughter of a United States Foreign Service Officer. Since her 2013 debut, Diana’s books have landed on annual “Best of” lists in Library Journal and The Washington Post.

Diana is now happily settled in Virginia, but still gets the itch to explore far-off places. When she’s not bent over her laptop, Diana reads, practices yoga and plots her next travel adventure.

Diana loves to hear from readers. You can follow her on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and join her private readers’ group, Diana’s Divas, on Facebook.
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