And the final winner of Surrender the Night is....

Kaitlin Rose!  Congratulations!!  And thanks everyone for entering and for your great comments.

Here are the answers to last week's quiz.

What does Alex say next?

 A, Of course, anything to please you, my dear.
 B. Need I remind you, I am an officer, not a farmer?
 C. When did I become part of your rebel American family?
 D. Tell your precious cow to sleep in today.


Most of you got this wrong and I realized later on that it was pretty hard to tell what his answer would be. Anyway, the answer is B. Most of you guessed D. Which is also a great answer and one I should have probably used in the book!

What does Rose say next?     
       A. Rose narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid it's all we can afford."
       B.  She smiled at him sweetly. "American beds are reserved for Americans."
       C. Rose's heart sank. "I'll see what I can do for you, sir."

D. Rose grimaced. Pompous bore. “No sir. We reserve our barns strictly for odious beasts.”

Most of you guessed this right. It is D.



Anyway, it was a fun month.  I wish I could give you all a free book!

On the writing front, I'm working on the editorial changes to Surrender the Dawn. They are due Monday and I'm hoping to finish today since my hubby, who has been gone for a week on business in Japan, is coming home tomorrow.    Want a sample? For those of you who have read the first book, you're quite familiar with Luke Heaton.

 This is a snippet from chapter 2 of my next book SURRENDER THE DAWN!
Not to be released until August 2011

“Nevertheless, miss, you shouldn’t walk about town at night without benefit of an escort.”

“Lately, there are many things I’m told I should not do.”

He swayed slightly on his feet and the smell of rum once again stung her nose. “Indeed. I suffer from the same malady.”

“I doubt our situations are comparable.” She glanced at the dark frame of a schooner tied at the dock. “How did you come to my rescue so suddenly? I did not see anyone else about.”

“I was working on my ship when I spotted you across the street.”

His ship. But she’d heard no one would hire him as a captain. “A privateer?”   

Mr. Heaton gazed at the vessel bobbing in harbor and sighed. “Alas, she could be one day.” He gestured toward her reticule. “What is it you have in your reticule that would lure such rats from their holes?”

She eyed him suspiciously, wishing she could see the details of his face more clearly. “Nothing of import.” She gripped it tighter. “I had business at the Merchants coffee house.” A chill prickled her skin. Surely this man wouldn’t attempt to rob her after he’d defended her so admirably. She took a step back. “I thank you again, Mr. Heaton, but I really must be on my way.”

“Allow me to escort you home.” Closing the distance between them once again, he proffered his elbow. His massive chest spanned her vision even as his body heat cloaked her in warmth. Her breath quickened.

“There is no need.” Turning, she waved him off. “I’m sure there are no more ruffians afoot.” Except you, perhaps.

Mr. Heaton fell in step beside her. “Nevertheless, I would never forgive myself should any harm come to you, especially carrying such a fortune.”

Shock halted her. “What did you say?”

One dark brow rose. “They wouldn’t accept your money for a privateer, would they?”

Cassandra flattened her lips.

Mr. Heaton scratched the stubble on his chin. “I was aware of the proceedings at the coffee shop tonight, miss. I would have been there myself looking for investors if I’d thought anyone in town would take a chance on me as captain.” Sorrow weighed his voice.

Cassandra took in this news and allowed it to stir excitement within her. If only for a moment. But no. Even if he would take her money, Mr. Heaton was not a man to be trusted. She clutched her reticule closer and started on her way.

Clearing his throat, he walked beside her. “You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Channing. I am no thief. A gambler, perhaps, even a libertine, but no thief.”  He stumbled, but quickly leveled his steps.

Cassandra shook her head. How on earth had he managed to wield his sword so skillfully in his condition? She stopped and faced him. “You are drunk, sir.”

“Ah, yes.” He gave her a rakish grin. “How could I forget? Apparently, I’m also a sot.”

Cassandra searched for a glimpse of his eyes in the darkness, but the shadows denied her. How could he joke about such a disgusting habit?

“Wondering how I managed to fend off three men?”

“Two.” She lifted her chin. “I took care of one of them.”

He chuckled and reached up as if he would touch the loose strands of her hair. 

She began walking again. “Please leave me be, Mr. Heaton. I thank you for your assistance. Good night.”

“You should see my swordplay when I’m sober, miss,” he shouted after her.

“I’d rather not see you at all, Mr. Heaton.”

MaryLu here:  Have a great weekend!