“This is the first book I’ve read by Ms. Reid and what an introduction to her utterly enthralling writing. Ms. Reid is a master storyteller revealing bit by bit what makes Nicolas tick. Her descriptions bring scenes to life and I was hooked from the beginning.” -Two Ends of the Pen
What genres do you write?
Historical Romance and Paranormal Romance.
Coffee or tea lover?
Name one thing on your bucket list.
A 3-month trip to Scotland!
Do you have pets?
Not anymore. ☹ My German Shepherd Jafar went to sleep a couple years ago, and I haven’t the heart to get a new pet since.
When I wake up every morning I…
I slide my hand over on the sheets to find my hubby.
Weirdest or unique thing you own.
I still have the first love letter my husband ever wrote to me. That piece of paper is 20 years old and carefully preserved.
Do you have any hobbies or particular skills?
I am a huge foodie and love cooking!
What do you hope readers will experience or gain when reading your stories?
What inspired you to write Sinful Wallflowers?
I was chatting with my sister and trying to convince her to read a book about a wallflower, but she refused, saying wallflowers are boring and tend to have too many self-esteem issues. I found myself thinking about that statement for days and how to show that ladies the ton overlook as inferior/wallflowers are really clever, witty, romantic at heart, and very adventurous. I spent a few more weeks mulling over it until the idea would not let me go, so I sat and created six friends and the journey they would go on to find happy ever after.
Three words that best describes your writing style.
Romantic, angsty, and sensual.
Miss Maryann FitzWilliam is too witty and bookish for her own good. No gentleman of the ton will marry her, so her parents arrange for her to wed a man old enough to be her father. But Maryann is ready to use those wits to turn herself into a sinful wallflower.
When the scandal sheet reports a sighting of Nicolas Ives climbing out the chamber windows of a house party, Maryann does the unthinkable. She anonymously claims that the bedchamber belonged to none other than Miss FitzWilliam, tarnishing her own reputation—and chances of the dastardly union her family secured for her. Now she just needs to convince the marquess to keep his silence.
Nicholas Ives, Marquess of Rothbury has purposefully cultivated a reputation as the most ruthless, unprincipled libertine, all so he can slip beneath the guards of those whose vile actions caused him to lose the only girl he's ever loved. Despite his intrigue, Nicolas is determined to ignore the deceitful and enticing Miss FitzWilliam. However, his enemies are drawing close, and he soon discovers he must keep her closer to protect her. Nonetheless, she rouses a soul-burning passion within him, causing him to question who will protect her from his devilish wiles.
Excerpt of HER WICKED MARQUESS
She stared at him in stupefied amazement. Before she could react, he dropped onto his knees and his hands found her throat in a clasp that was tender yet provocatively intimidating. His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, his jawline flushed red. This close, she could see the different striations of gold in his eyes, the rain on his brow and the bridge of his nose… The hunger in his eyes. Maryann felt beguiled by the unknown expression tightening across his sharply slanted cheekbones. It struck her then with the force of lightning. He wanted her. This was not a game or mild flirtation.
She felt flushed, shivering, light-headed. Silly and empowered in the same breath. A gentleman had never wanted her before. No one had ever shown her that she could even be seen as desirable, and here was a proclaimed rakehell, a reputed connoisseur of beautiful women who indulged in all manner of wantonness, staring at her as if he felt compelled.
As if she were beautiful. Was it that she presented as a novelty?
“I…I…Nicolas,” she stuttered. “I…I need to think…”
“You are making me lose control,” he hissed. “I must not be here, with you.”
“Do not blame me for your lack of self-restraint,” she gasped. “Just admit it…that you feel the same way I do.”
The boldness of her vague confession left her breathless.
He leaned in unexpectedly, took her lower lip between his teeth, and bit down sharply. As if to punish her for making him lose control. She sucked in a harsh breath at the arrow of need that shot through her, striking deep in her belly, and ending in an aching pulse between her legs. “Why did you bite me?”
“Rakes do that,” he said dangerously.
He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, and asked against her flesh, “Are you frightened?”
“You hold my stare so fiercely, an undeniable fire in your gaze.” His thumb moved in a firm caress across her cheek. “I want to touch that fire, and I can only do that by possessing you.”
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