Spotlight & Giveaway: The Wedding Wager 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 Wedding Wager!

 
Hello! Thank you so much for having me!
 

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

A fake rake saves Lady Victoria from being wager in marriage to a horrible lord. And it turns out that the fake rake, and the adventure minded lady have more in common than they ever thought possible. Both are determined to give a miss on love. Fate has other ideas.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

Derek Marcus Andrew Kent, the Duke of Chase, did not usually consider murder.
Tonight was an exception.
As he stood near the fireplace, leaning against the marble mantel, sipping his brandy, he watched the events unfold and felt a shudder of horror.
He had seen many a shocking thing in his time.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• The British Museum was just beginning to find its footing at the time of this book and the archeological practices were horrible. They threw so much away. And of course, they took artifacts out of home countries with no thought to consequences.
• Lords and ladies really did lose and win whole fortunes in single nights.
• Gaming clubs were not just for notorious ladies. Women like The Duchess of Devonshire were addicted to gambling.
• Much like my heroine, many ladies of the period loved reading and writing and had access to incredible educations though they couldn’t attend schools.
• The Duke of Richmond really did lose his eldest’s son’s hand in a wager. The heir had to marry the lady in question! And then they proceeded to have one of the happiest marriage the ton ever saw.

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

Their intellects. Both of them love each other’s boldness and freedom of thought.

Using just 5 words, how would you describe Hero and Heroine’s love affair?

Surprising.
Wild.
Revelatory.
Freeing.
Home.

The First Kiss…

He cocked his head to the side, angling himself toward her kiss. And then he took her mouth with agonizing slowness, certain that the moment his lips touched hers, he would have his answer.
He did not desire his wife.
He did not desire Victoria.
Such a thing was absolutely ludicrous.
The kiss would prove it.
Instead, the moment her mouth touched his, his entire world vibrated with shock and amazement. It was as if a door was opened to a life unseen, and it terrified him to his core.

You’ll have to keep reading to see how they just scorch each other with unexpected passion!

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

I love the scene when Victoria realizes Chase’s secret and she understands he is not at all who he has taught the world to believe him to be. She already likes him. . . But the moment she understands his mission in life, she falls. . . Oh how she falls! And he? Chase finally feels seen. He doesn’t have to hide any more.

I love that they both can finally be free with each other in a way society will not let them be.

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

“The shrubbery are entirely innocent in my wrongdoing,” he teased, hoping levity would remedy the charged air. “Please do not murder them.”
His wife jolted around and glared at him. Her brows rose ever so slightly. “I beg your pardon?”
He gestured to the greenery. “You look as if you might lay waste to them. In fact, your stare is downright terrifying. Anyone within a mile of it should quake.”
“Are you quaking?” she drawled, her brow arched.
“Oh yes.” He gazed down at his feet. “In my dancing shoes.”
Her lips twitched. “You do not look as if you are quaking.”
“I have perfected,” he said, grateful that she appeared to be yielding to his line of humor, “an outward appearance of fearlessness, but inside I am aquiver. I do promise you.”
She laughed. Inwardly, he sighed with relief. He did not wish her to be angry with him and it felt good breaking that tension between them.
“Can you forgive me?” he said gently, sincerely. “For acting so rash?“
Her jaw tightened “I suppose you cannot help it at present.”
He nodded, not daring to contest her statement. “It’s true. I cannot help it at present, but I can work on it.”
“Will you?” she asked, her sapphire gaze rounding. “Work on it?”
He crossed the grass slowly, his heart swelling at the sight of her in the most alarming of fashions. “What is the point of living this life if we do not attempt to improve ourselves?”
“Hmm,” she ventured, remaining still as a light, perfumed breeze sent the thin fabric of her gown fluttering about her legs. “That is not my experience of most aristocrats, Derek. They usually think they are perfect the way they are.”
The sounds of his name on her lips lifted his spirits. It was better than formality. Formality denoted distance. And he wished them to remain close. Very, very close.
“Perfection?” he repeated. “There is no such thing, and anyone who thinks so should resign themselves to an early grave. One can continue to strive for improvement, but there is no destination of perfection.”

Readers should read this book …

Because it will fill them with hope and laughter and fun. No matter how hard things are? There’s love and self discovery and adventure for Victoria and Chase. And they do not let the ton tell them who to be.

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

I’m always working on a new book! I’m currently editing my next big paperback release Much Ado About Dukes. . . And that one is laugh out loud funny with a heroine who takes no nonsense from any one. And most definitely not dukes!

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Print copy of THE SPINSTER AND THE RAKE by Eva Devon.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: If you could go to any moment or place in Regency England what or where would it be?

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Excerpt from The Wedding Wager:

“Come in, then,” she called. “Do not linger in the hall. Lingering is not something I approve of.”
And with that, the Duke of Chase strode into her chamber.
It was like being hit with a wave so intense she could scarce draw breath. He simply took up so much space with his presence.
The length of his black evening cloak flowed about him, bringing to mind raven’s wings, and the firelight danced off his dark hair, lacing it with fiery notes.
He was beautiful. So beautiful it was almost unfathomable. She found herself gaping. For though she had heard of him and read of him, she had never frequented the circles he chose. And now, standing but ten feet away?
Every word she’d read? It rang hollow. There were not words to describe the way he filled up her chamber with his magnetism.
It was appalling…and captivating.
His eyes locked with hers and held.
In all her life, she couldn’t recall feeling so suspended in someone else’s gaze.
And she was having none of it. She was no silly thing to be taken in by him.
“Ferber,” she called, “please remain in the hall and keep the door open. I do not wish for there to be any mistake about the events this evening. I shall not be accused of attempting to trap the duke in marriage.”
The Duke of Chase snorted.
Snorted!
It was a sound that was quite contradictory to his absolutely captivating appearance.
Irritation throttled through her at his seeming perfection and arrogance snort.
No one should achieve that sort of perfection. Certainly not someone who had simply been born to greatness. As far as she was aware, the only achievements he was renowned for were his great scandals.
Dark waves of his hair fell in rather poetic fashion about his chiseled face. In fact, his cheekbones were so sharp, she was fairly certain that if she gave him the slap that she was tempted to do, she might cut her hands upon it. His jaw was so angled, there was a cocky sort of taunt to it, as if he was daring all those about him. It gave the feeling he was playing with her. Like a cat.
But she was no mouse.
Even so, his eyes… As hard and hypnotic as any of the stones she’d seen out in the moors from her homeland.
Impatience swept through him and those eyes flashed like lightning. Like one of the storms that rolled in off the sea coast and swept across the heather. His black silk cravat was askew.
Clearly, he’d been tugging upon it. Beneath his sweeping cloak, his evening coat was wide open. His ivory waistcoat, too, was unbuttoned, as if he had come from a disheveled situation.
His brows drew together most sardonically. “You make good view of me.”
“One would hope I would, given the bizarreness of this scenario,” she countered, undaunted. “Your Grace, what the devil are you doing here and in my chamber? It is not a done thing. As you see, I am not accustomed to the company of gentlemen in the middle of the night.”
“Glad to hear it,” he returned. “Sentiments such as those will keep this simple. Since you’re to be my wife.”
The room swung about her.
Wife.
Wife?!
“I beg your pardon,” she all but yelped. “Have you gone mad, truly?”
“Madness is relative,” he pointed out with a quiet intensity. “I think your father has gone mad, that I can say true.”
She scowled. “What does my father have to do with the Duke of Chase standing suddenly in the middle of my chamber?”
The duke turned and looked back to the hall. “Ferber,” he ordered casually, “your presence is not required.”
“Ferber,” she commanded, wondering what the devil was going on. “Stay.”
“Ferber,” the Duke of Chase demanded, “go wait on the landing or I shall ensure that you haven’t a night’s peace for the next decade. Or, would you prefer Lady Victoria to hear the scandal of your father first aired with an audience?”
Ferber let out a peep of alarm. “My Lady, I am really in the most difficult position.”
“Ferber, you may go,” she said, her stomach tightening. What could her father possibly have done to warrant this? “I can handle the duke without any concern.”
And she felt fairly certain that she could.
The Duke of Chase had a reputation for loving the ladies. Perhaps too well. He was a rake of great renown, but she had never heard that he’d crossed a line into that sort of dissipation that Libertines held.
No, he liked ladies to love him; that’s what she had read and heard, and she needn’t fear him. He did not use force, but temptation.
Ferber’s footsteps padded down the hall. Reluctantly.
When, finally, they had faded, she drew herself up and arched a brow at the man who had thrust himself into her peaceful evening.
“I cannot possibly understand what it is you are attempting to convey,” she stated. “I am not going to be your wife. We have never had a conversation before.”
“That has not stopped countless couples in the past,” he pointed out ruefully. “And you are indeed going to be my wife. Your father gambled you away tonight. I own you.”
“You cannot win me, Your Grace,” she declared rashly, grasping to laws, even as her reason pummeled her with alarm. “Not under the laws of England.”
“Do not be ludicrous,” he growled again, with seeming frustration not at her, but at the rule she had mentioned. “The laws of England are barely coherent and they make it very clear that ladies are indeed chattle. Perhaps by law, you can’t be gambled away. But you are no fool. Laws mean little to men like your father and myself. You know how these things are often done. And I’m about to save you from one of the greatest fools alive in England today. Your father.”
Well, she could agree with him on one thing. Her father was a bit of a fool. But generally speaking, he had always been a benevolent fool.
Her throat tightened with growing horror. Surely, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
But there was no forgetting that her father was also a fool who believed that she should get married even if he adored having her on the work that he so often filled his hours with. Namely, the excavation of burial grounds on their property and in the surrounding areas in the North of England.
The Saxons and Vikings were his passion. She’d spent her childhood digging things up, making sense of them, and writing down all their postulations about said objections.
She had no intentions of ceasing her work, even if her father seemed to think that all ladies needed to give up such endeavors, marry, and produce heirs upon coming of age.
Narrowing her eyes, she replied, “Your Grace, I do not know what has transpired between you and my father, but a marriage to you will not be occurring.”
“I shall not force you to it…even if your father would. But it is imperative I warn you.” The duke’s hard face softened for a single moment, concern lining his brow and mouth. “Your father was about to gamble you away to a different man. Not me. I saw who it was and joined the wager. And won.”
“I beg your pardon,” she gasped.
“I loathe that you are in this circumstance, but you find yourself in a situation with a choice. You can marry me, or you can marry Lord Craven, an old, lecherous buffoon who has a great deal of money and a good position, of course. But I can tell you, his reputation is one to be appalled by. Now, I do not usually find myself in the position of marrying ladies whose fathers decide to suddenly gamble them away. After all, a man can only get married once. But I found myself unable to accept the fact that you might be cast into the possession of such a lecher.”
She swallowed. “I don’t… I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t blame you for that,” he said. “It is quite surprising. I would not see you forced into marriage. But by the rules of noblesse oblige, the rules of gambling and the rules of my gentleman’s club, I own you. Your father has given you away. And if you do not choose me? It will almost certainly be Craven. You see, your father lost considerable funds. All of which he managed to keep by gambling away your hand.”
“My hand?” she whispered, shocked. “I have refused all offers. And I know those offers were made for my fortune alone.”
Besides, she had no desire to wed. Marriage would steal what little freedom she had.
“Well,” he began, his voice far more gentle now. “I cannot express a reason as to why, but you are the eldest daughter of a marquess. No doubt you have a great portion and you are associated with one of the most powerful houses in the land.” His lips curved ever so slightly. “I can only assume you have not had more offers due to your acerbic nature.”
She drew up, wondering if she could throw him out. He was rather large. Even if she’d been born a man, she doubted she’d be able to make such a muscular man go if he wished to stay. “You have been in my presence, but three minutes, sir,” she returned. “How can you assess my nature to be acerbic?”
He looked at her then, his gaze raking from the top of her head, down her body, to the tips of her toes. Then, oh, so slowly, he dragged that gaze back up, taking his time from her ankles to her knees, to her hips, to her waist, to her breasts.
His eyes lingered there for a moment, then deliberately, he drew his gaze back up to her exceptionally plain face. “Because,” he said, “a lady with so many financial and family attributes clearly must have something that makes gentlemen run the other way. I have a feeling, Lady Victoria, it is your cutting, witting tongue that makes you unappealing. But never fear.”
A strange look overtook him. “What other men dislike in you… Those things make you my ideal wife.”

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

The Wedding Wager is the first of a fun new sexy historical romance series from USA Today bestselling author Eva Devon.

When a gambler wagers his grown daughter as the winner’s wife, a duke who has sworn off marriage is so disturbed by the bet that he ensures the woman’s safety by making certain he wins her.
Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Goodreads |