Spotlight & Giveaway: The Rake and The Rose by Eva Devon

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Eva Devon to HJ!

Hi Eva and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, The Rake and The Rose!

 
Thank you so much for having me!
 

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

A pahmplet writer determined to expose the dangerous world of rakes suddenly finds out she is falling in love with a very delicious one!
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

“I could marry your sister…”
The moment the words left Alexander Markby’s, the sixth Earl of Derby, lips, despite their earnestness and the depth of the secret longing in his soul, he knew he had made an error. And it wasn’t simply because the lady in question was from a class that almost never married into his own. That? Oh, it gave him pause, but not enough to stop the secret wish of his soul.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• Pamphlets were extremely popular in this period!
• Rakes were often, actually, not very nice guys.
• Being a courtesan was like being a rockstar in this period.
• Being a courtesan allowed women to have access to power, influence politics, and often help artists achieve recognition.
• Losing the patronage of a lord could truly destroy an artist. And a ruined family could really struggle to ever find its feet again.
• Gambling addiction was huge in the period! Lords and ladies lost whole fortunes on a single play!

What first attracts your main characters to each other?

Their mutual intelligence and sense of caring for the world.
 

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

Feisty, conflicted, daring, deep, and full of longing.
 

The First Kiss…

Alexander had not realized that he had wanted to kiss her just about his entire life as a young man, but now he knew it to his very core. Holding Rose in his arms was heaven.
He wound his arms around her back, pulling her close, unable to let her go. He let his mouth take hers in a fiery kiss. He did not hold back because he did not know when this could ever happen again, so he wanted to savor the moment entirely. His mouth teased over hers. Her lips parted with a gasp of astonishment, and her hands came up to his shoulders.
For one moment, he was certain she was going to push him away and tell him to get off. She did not. Instead, she softened at his touch. Her hands slipped up around his shoulders to his neck. Her lips parted ever so slightly, and he could not stop himself. He teased his tongue against hers.
She gasped again. Her mouth opened wider, and the kiss grew wild as they held on tight to each other, as if they could be ripped apart at any moment. But there, in the house in St. John’s Wood, hidden by the curtain, they were in a world of their own. Nothing could stop them, not if they didn’t wish it to.
He felt the soft curves of her body pressed against his, and he wanted to give in to every moment of it. Was this a dream? It felt like a dream. Surely, it had to be, because Rose would never, ever let him kiss her like this, nor should she. With each kiss, with each touch of their body, he knew he was casting himself further into hell and breaking his vows anew over and over again. But he could not stop.
And so, when at last he had to lift his head from hers, for he could not take her there behind a curtain, no matter the fact that a rake and a courtesan might do such a thing for fun, he gazed down into her eyes. “Why did you—”

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

As he closed his eyes and let his head drift back, ready to nap for a little bit before he went to the next party, he let out another sigh. This time, not quite so content. He felt hollow. It was a strange sensation that had been coming to him as of late. His dear friend the Duke of Ashebridge, one of his true friends, had married and left for the Americas. He would come back, but Alex still felt the loss of it. With the American Duke, he’d felt a sense of belonging. And just as he was about to castigate himself for such self-pity, the coach door swung open, exposing the London night, and someone bolted inside. His eyes snapped open. He grabbed the person and threw them across to the other bench. Alex landed atop them and pressed his body down. He had no idea what this person was doing in his coach, but whoever it was was female. He could feel that from the curves writhing against him underneath his own hard body.
He reached for the person’s hands, checking for weapons. He patted them down quickly, keeping himself on track as he briskly traced her ribs and hips and the curves that might bear a knife. No, no knives, no pistol.
“Get off,” the young woman growled with surprising force underneath him.
He tensed. The voice was familiar, but he could not place it.
“Get off, Alex,” she demanded again.
He jolted in surprise. “Do I know you?” He had known many young women over the years. Was it possible someone had come to him and he had not helped them? Had he done someone wrong and they were here to attack him? He was not generally attacked. He was well-liked and beloved by most. He made certain of it with his work. And, yet, anything could happen.
He lifted himself slightly and gazed down at the face as the coach stuttered to a halt. He could feel his footmen jump down from his position as the vehicle swayed underneath the change in weight. Alex blinked at the face beneath his, at the dirt smudged on the cheeks and the blue piercing eyes staring up at him. “Rose?”
She arced a magnificent brow. “Exactly, you clod. Now get off me.”
But he did not. He lingered for a moment, unwilling to let her go just yet. His footman thrust his head in.
“My Lord.”
“Everything is fine, Jenkins. It is an old friend. Go on back up top and slam the door shut.”
Jenkins did exactly as he was told. And the coach began to roll on.
“What are you doing?” He eased his hold but did not pull back. He had not seen Rose in years, and he certainly had never held her, not like this. It felt too perfect. And he knew he was a cad for doing it. But after all this time, he was afraid to let her go, as if she might slip through his fingers like smoke, as if he was imagining it all. Was he dreaming? Had he closed his eyes and allowed himself to bring her to life like some magic creature in his mind?
“You are pinching my back,” she said.
He groaned and climbed back. He tsked as he settled into his seat. “Then you shouldn’t throw yourself into a gentleman’s coach. You’re quite lucky it was mine.” Then he paused and groaned again. “You knew it was mine.”
“Excellent deduction,” she drawled. “Of course I knew it was yours, Alex. Do you think I’d throw myself into any old man’s coach?”
Alex. Bloody hell, he loved the sound of his name on her pert lips. “Well, one doesn’t know with behavior like that,” he said. “And I have heard you’ve done some shocking things over the last few years.”
“Oh, you’ve heard about me, have you?” She sat up and straightened her clothes.
“I have indeed,” he said, realizing he shouldn’t admit he had been following her escapades over the years. And aiding her in whatever ways he could, from secretly suggesting she be chosen for certain pamphlets, to nudging her publishers to give her larger remuneration, to occasionally making certain those who might wish her ill will understood that any action on such wishes might lead to a long, permanent swim in the Thames.
He did not want her to know he had followed her. He certainly did not wish her, proud soul that she was, to know how much he had secretly helped her over the years. And he damn well did not want her to know that she had been an ever-present person in the back of his mind, like a ghost or specter, haunting him, with a whole other life, of a way that things could have been before. Well, it wasn’t good to think of the past. “What are you doing? That was bloody dangerous.”
She pursed her lips. “I have a need. And if one has a need, they should be willing to act upon it.”
“You have a need to be in a coach alone with me? Your brother will kill us both.” And the image of having to confess he’d broken his vow to Harry flashed before him. It was not a pleasant image. Evisceration came to mind, verbally and physically. He repressed a shudder.
A knowing smile tilted her lips before she returned easily, “No, he won’t kill me. He’ll kill you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s accurate. And you’re willing to put my life at risk?”
“Yes,” she said, “because I can see you’d handle yourself just fine.”
He laughed. “Why? Because I’m able to throw you against the coach bench?”
“You have good reflexes,” she said with a grin. “Besides, I don’t think he’d kill you. He might maim you a bit, and he has excellent judgment. He’d realize the extent of the damage that could occur. Killing an earl will result in Tyburn, even if one is a vicar.”
“Well, that’s the truth.” And the fact was lords were rarely hanged, but men like her brother could be hanged every day. Harry was not important enough to be spared from the noose, unlike a lord like Alex. He thrust a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Still, it must be desperate for you to be here.”
“I’m glad you realize that. I need your help.”
He leaned forward. “My help?”
She shrugged as if it was all so obvious. “You are the only lord that I can trust. The rest are nefarious fools.”
He cocked his head to the side, uncertain if he was meant to be insulted or flattered. “So what is it you think I can do for you that would cause you to fling yourself into my moving equipage?”
She cleared her throat. “I was sitting in a puddle outside the club trying to figure out how to gain admittance. And then you came along.”

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

“We should have started an hour ago.”
“I did try to get your brother to turn around past Hampstead Heath, but he was having none of it.”
“Oh, dear,” she said with a hint of sympathy. “He took you out on one of his walks?”
His lips twitched. “I feared we’d end up in Scotland. I adore Scotland, but not when I’m supposed to meet someone, and that someone being you, who is still being extremely judgmental.”
“Forgive me,” she said at last. “I should have thought better of you.”
“Yes. You should.”
But, truthfully, she still had her suspicions. He was a rake. Surely, he was merely doing this because, well, he felt a certain obligation since they had been friends as children. She didn’t even know if he’d fully keep his word. “What are we going to do to begin?”
“There are two possibilities. We go immediately to the Duchess of Ashbridge’s establishment and get you your wardrobe.”
“Surely, a gown. I cannot comprehend the need for more,” she said.
“Well, you must, because if I take you out to the club or others like it, you need to be dressed to perfection. You need to make men sigh and wish to die for a single night with you and for women to look at you and want to know who made your gown.”
“I see,” she said, her throat tightening as a wave of nerves rushed through her. “I hadn’t thought of that, which is terribly impractical of me.”
He stared at her quite seriously. “Yes. Considering how clever you are, one would’ve thought it was one of the first things in your consideration. You know the importance of how one looks.”
She did. All her life she’d been beautiful, and all her life she tried to ignore that. People had assumed she’d make a decent marriage, despite her father, because of her face. Most had assumed she’d use her looks for advantage to find a protector. Well, she had no desire for that. She’d seen the way that beauty could go. Far better to develop one’s personality and character.
She smoothed back her already smoothed back coiffure, as if affirming her belief. She licked her lips. “And the other option?”
He shrugged. “I can start to teach you how to behave,” he said. “As if you adore me, don’t you know? When we’re in company.”
The reality of it all hit her in that moment. She’d thought of this, to a degree. But, originally, she’d hoped to enter as a servant or sneak about the shadows. With him, she’d be on full display. And she’d have far better access to the information she hoped to acquire. She had avoided being noticed as a beautiful woman all her life, on purpose. She pressed her lips together as apprehension shimmied through her. “Am I really going to have to? I’m a writer, not an actress.”
“If you’re not an actress, you should give this up and just interview Cyprians and—”
“No, that’s not possible,” she said swiftly. “Sometimes, they don’t tell me the truth in an interview.”
“Nobody tells everyone the entire truth,” Derby said. That statement rattled through her.
“And you?” she asked softly, noting the hint of pain in his voice, the surprising depth of knowledge there. “Do you keep things to yourself?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Oh, Rose. Doesn’t everyone?”

Readers should read this book …

If they want to feel all the feels! This one was a joy to write and I loved taking the characters to the depths of despair and the heights of bliss!

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

I’m currently at work on a new book for Entangled with a super fun twist. And I have an Indie book coming out at the end of November, Why I Caught the Duke. It features a house party and loads of fun and angst.

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: 15$ Amazon Card

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Excerpt from The Rake and The Rose:

Are you ready?”
She lifted her gaze from her work. “Oh yes, of course.” She coughed. “Let us begin,” she said. She crossed to him quickly, placed her hands in front of her middle, and raised her chin, as if she was a governess about to begin a lesson.
“Now, I assume you’re going to tell me I should drape myself over you and tell you how darling you are.” She flashed him a cheeky grin. “Shall I give it a go?”
He gazed down at her. “Rose, though you have an excellent humor,” he began, “that is not at all what I was about to suggest, and I think that this is a moment in which you need to admit I’m superior in knowledge in this.”
She stared up at him, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, I will definitely admit that you are superior in sensuality and its indulgence.”
“A little indulgence is good for the soul, Rose,” he said. “Who taught you that pleasure was so terrible?”
“Life.”
“Well, then, let me show you that not all pleasure is bad or at least it can be used.”
“Oh, I have no doubts it can be used as a weapon or a tool,” she said, arching a delicate brow. “So let us begin since we must.”
“How excited you sound,” he drawled.
She laughed. “That’s sarcasm, Derby.”
“Indeed, it was, Rose. I’m glad to know you can recognize it.” He cocked his head to the side. “Now, come here.”
Her eyes narrowed anew, but she stepped forward.
“At some point, you can drape yourself on me,” he said, his gaze trailing over her face, that face he had admired for so long. “And, yes, you can tell me you adore me when we are in public. But, truthfully, that is not the sort of thing that mistresses are required to do.”
“No?” she said, her mouth quirking with disbelief.
“Mistresses are required to sparkle. They are a prize that will improve the appearance of an earl or a duke. You are a jewel in my crown, and you must show me off.”
“But,” she demanded, confused, “I must show you off?”
He nodded. “You have to show the entire room that I have the best mistress there, the most luxurious creature. You behave in a way that makes everyone want you, but the world knows that only I can have you.”
Her mouth dropped open into an O. “Are you talking about that mistress who arrived on a silver platter with no clothes on?”
“Exactly, Rose. You see, that’s what many mistresses do.”
“I can’t do that.”
“And I’m not asking you to. But I want to expand your ideas about what a mistress does and what she is for.”
Her shoulders squared as if she was preparing herself for an unpleasant battle. “I see.”
“Let us get comfortable together. Come. I think the best way—” He held out his hand to her.
“What?”
“Is to dance with me, Rose.”
“I don’t dance,” she stated as if it was the most obvious fact.
“Why ever not?” he asked, astonished. Did she deny herself all joys?
She licked her lips, tucking a nonexistent errant lock of hair behind her ear. “Because, because, because.”
“You must release some of the tension in your shoulders.”
“I’m not tense,” she countered before she paused. “I don’t know how to explain it, Derby, but I don’t do anything like that.”
He wanted to show her she could let go for a moment. “I’m going to put my arms about you.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she said, her eyes widening. “The only dance that requires that…”
“Is a waltz,” he rumbled, wanting to show her there could be so much beauty in the world he chose to live in. That there could be joy, and fun, and pleasure mixed with duty.
She scowled. “Look, I’m game to do all required, but surely, I can keep to a corner in the clubs and—”
“Rose, I’m doing you a favor, and it would be helpful if you showed a bit of enthusiasm for my tutelage. Or do you wish to fail before you begin?”
She drew herself up. “You are correct. Forgive me. I do want to do this, and I’m acting most remiss. Now, I will be an excellent pupil.”
“As you always are. New things can be daunting, and it seems pleasure is new to you.”
“Exactly,” she said. “Thank you.”
He had a funny feeling Rose always excelled at wherever she did. And from the look in her eye, she was about to throw herself at this. He slipped his hand to the back of her shoulder blade, took her other hand up.
“Now, we’re going to rock together slowly,” he said, gazing down into her eyes, wishing he could gaze into them without any sort of hesitation. “I wish you to simply give your way to the movement.”
And as they moved together for a moment, he laughed as her hands firmly pulled at him, trying to tilt him about the room. “Rose,” he said softly. “You are leading me.”
“Am I?”
He nodded. “Though I know it is infuriating, the gentleman does lead.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course he does. The way of the world is also the way of the dance floor.”
“Yes, but the lady can lead in many other things.”
“You’ll have to teach me that, then.”
“Happily,” he said, his lips curling as he imagined her taking the lead in other acts of pleasure.
He began to move her about the room. “We are lucky,” he said. “We do not need to have the formality of Almacks or the ballroom. For where we will be, we can be as close together as we like.”
“Or as necessary to show we are intimate.”
“Well said,” he replied, and he pulled her closer to him. He let his gaze soften as he stared down upon her face. It was not hard to do, at all. But the truth was he had wanted Rose for a long time. He still did. And with each growing moment, the reality of their deception tangled with the truth of how he felt.
Her own gaze began to soften. “How is it you are looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“As if I am the center of the universe.”
Was he so transparent? He could not let her think such a thing. “Oh,” he said easily, “practice. Anything one is good at requires practice.”
“I see,” she breathed and then tilted her own head back, gazed up at him, and mirrored his look.
And he nearly tripped. “How did you do that, Rose?”
“What?”
“Gaze at me as if I’m the center of the universe.”
“Practice,” she teased.
“What were you thinking of?” He wished to know what could cause her face to transform thus.
She blinked as if she was thinking of a quick reply. “I was thinking of a world with no pain in it.”
He winced. Some part of him had hoped that she was thinking of him, but of course, she was not. How foolish of him. He turned her slowly about the room until her body was beginning to relax and feel more languid in his grasp.
“Very good, Rose.”
She nodded. “I told you I’m a good student.”
“I shall never doubt you again.” He tilted her slightly to the left, brought her back, and spun her under his arm.
She let out a laugh as she went around quickly and suddenly collided with his chest, her hands splaying over his hard shoulders. “My goodness, you are far stronger than I imagined you were.”
“How so?” he queried, still taking in the feel of her palms on his chest.
Her gaze traced over his shoulders. “I can feel every line and sculpture of your muscles,” she said. “Most lords aren’t like that at all. They’re soft, but you are not. However do you find the time to make yourself thus?”
“I make time,” he said. “Because I want to be the best that I can be.”
“You do?” she said skeptically. “I thought you gave all your time to indulgence, in pleasure.”
“I have dreams and goals, as you do,” he said, trying to hide a note of bitterness at her clear disdain for him. “And if I spent all my time in a bottle of wine, like so many of the rakes do, I would not accomplish anything.”
“You have dreams?”
He laughed. “Rose, you make it sound as if I think of nothing but cakes and mistresses and wine.”
Her brow furrowed. “Don’t you?”
“I went to Oxford.”
She bit her lower lip. “Yes, but from what I understood, you did not spend a great deal of time studying.”
He groaned. “What did your brother tell you about me?” he asked softly, his hand roving over her back.
She did not remove her own hands, and their warmth seeped through his shirt, and he could scarce breathe at the slight touch. “He said,” she began, her voice softer than it was before, “that you were not interested in studying and that you spent a great deal of time with the other lords, out and about.”
“I did spend a great deal of time with lads out and about, because that’s what lords do,” he said simply, the dim candle glow somehow making the exchange more intimate. “I was raised to do certain things, and I have done them, because that is what society and my family expected. But that doesn’t mean,” he gazed down at her face, his eyes slipping to her lips, “that I can’t want more, Rose.”
“Like what?” she whispered, her own lips parting ever so slightly.
“Would you like me to show you?”
“What?” she asked suddenly.
“Nothing,” he said, kicking himself for a fool. “Nothing. And I have an engagement, Rose. I must go.”
“But we were just beginning.”
“I have forgotten,” he said, pulling away though it was half agony. But he had to or he was going to do or say something he could not take back. He’d not been prepared for how she would make him feel. Feel…so… No, he couldn’t think it. “I shall come again tomorrow, and we will continue.”

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

She’s out to expose all of London’s most notorious rakes—even if it means colluding with the most devilish of them all! But it’s “once a rake, always a rogue” in this engaging, playful romp from USA Today bestseller Eva Devon…
Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Goodreads |
 
 

Meet the Author:

USATODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, Eva Devon, was raised on literary fiction, but quite accidentally and thankfully, she was introduced to romance one Christmas by Johanna Lindsey’s Mallory novella, The Present. A romance addict was born.
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