Thursday, May 4, 2017

**GIVEAWAY** Interview with Valerie Bowman - Never Trust a Pirate

I'm so excited to welcome Valerie Bowman back to the blog to talk about book 7 in her Playful Brides series, Never Trust a Pirate. After you learn all about Pirates and Valerie enter to win a copy for yourself courtesy of Valerie's publisher St. Martin's Press. Details below.
ISBN-13: 9781250121691
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Series: Playful Brides #7 Release Date: 05-02-2017
Length: 320pp
Buy It: Amazon/B&N/Kobo/IndieBound

The rules of engagement were never so scandalous. . .
A rumored pirate and the scurrilous black sheep of his well-to- do family, Cade Cavendish relishes his world of rebellion, deception, and seduction. Nothing and no one can hold him to be the duty-bound, honorable man he is expected to be. But when an unexpected run-in at his twin brother’s estate with a ravishing, raven-haired maid leads her to believe he’s actually a viscount, Cade’s renegade life is thrown wildly off-kilter. And even though a case of mistaken identity can be quickly set to rights, matters of the heart are quite different…
Miss Danielle LaCrosse is startled to learn that the handsome gentleman who radiates sin and has the devil in his eyes is not her employer the Viscount, but rather his infamous brother. A former heiress, orphaned and left penniless, Danielle has more than a few secrets of her own. Cade may be skilled at coaxing even the most hidden desires out of Danielle but can he earn her trust—and win her heart—as they embark on an adventure to confront a dangerous enemy from both of their pasts . . . and uncover the identity of the so-called Black Fox along the way?
Never Trust a Pirate is part of the Regency-set Playful Brides series by Valerie Bowman

St. Martin's Press is sponsoring this giveaway of
One Print copy US ONLY Never Trust a Priate
Please use the Rafflecopter form below to enter
Good Luck!

Read an excerpt courtesy St. Martin's Press:


London Harbor, July 1817
Only three steps. Only three steps separated him from the map. It was there, lying on the rickety wooden table in the captain’s stateroom aboard a ship aptly named Le Secret Francais. The only sound in the cramped space was his own breathing. Sweat beaded on his brow. He’d come this far. Braved the murky, cold water, swum out to the ship moored at the London docks. Climbed aboard, silent as a wraith, dressed all in black. Wrung out his clothing to keep it from dripping so there wouldn’t be a trail. Managed to steal into the captain’s quarters as the man slept, and now, now only three steps remained between him and the priceless map.
One water droplet fell to the wooden plank floor like a hammer against steel. The sound of his breath echoed to a crescendo. The blood pounding in his head became a distracting whirring noise.
One step forward. The ball of his foot ground onto the plank. Stealth and silence. Always. The calling cards of the best thief in London.
The captain stirred slightly in his bunk and began to snore.
He froze. One leather-clad foot arrested on the wooden plank. A pistol rested on two nails directly above the captain’s bunk. If the man awoke, he might shoot first at any noise. The captain well knew the value of the treasure he carried.
He counted to ten. Once. Twice. He had long since mastered the art of keeping footing on a ship. He waited until his heartbeats became steady again before taking the next step. A slight creak in the wood floor. A hint of movement from the captain. Another endless wait. Impatience was a roiling knot inside his belly.
Out of the shadows now, he stood only one step away from the table bolted to the floor. The moon shone through the window above the captain’s bed, shedding light on the man’s balding head. The map lay spread out, anchored by pins in the four corners. He would have to remove those pins. Ripping the paper would make too much noise.
Another interminable wait as the captain turned away from him in his sleep. His snores subsided.
He glanced over at the bunk. The pistol shone in the moonlight. One hard swallow. He never carried a pistol. Too loud. Pistols brought the crew, the wharf police, and anyone else interested in such activity. The only weapon he carried was a knife, tucked in the back of his breeches. A weapon of stealth.
Another count to ten before taking the final step. There was no time for an in-depth study of the map now, but a quick glance revealed the destination. The island of St. Helena, off the western coast of Africa, circled in bold scrawl. The map of the route planned for a dangerous man’s next escape. That bastard in the bed had been planning it.
All ten fingers itched to snatch the paper and run, but he forced himself to take a deep, silent breath. Carefully, he dislodged the first pin at the top right corner. It popped out easily. The top of the map rolled toward the center, making a slight flapping sound. Breath held, he glanced toward the captain again. No movement.
He stuck the pin back into the table to keep it from rolling, then his hand darted to the next pin at the bottom right corner. It also popped out easily. He quickly stuck it back into the wood. With two sides free, he carefully rolled the map toward the center. Reaching up to the top, he grasped the third pin. No movement. It was lodged deeply into the wood. Must pull harder. With one black-gloved hand, he clasped the pin between a thumb and two fingers, pulling upward with as much strength as he dared. His own breath in his ear was the only sound … that and the water lapping at the sides of the ship.
The pin finally gave way. He pressed a hand to the top of the map, to keep the freed top left corner from curling and making a noise. His chest and torso flattened against the map and the table, he pressed the third pin back into the wood.
Click. An unmistakable sound. One he had heard too often before. Another hard swallow. Damn it. He’d been so preoccupied with keeping quiet, he hadn’t realized the captain’s snores had subsided.
Half-splayed across the table, he contemplated his options. The door was ten paces to the left, the open window five paces to the right. Would he fit through the window? It’d be a hell of a time to learn the answer was no.
“Step away from zee map, if you don’t want a bullet through your back.” The captain’s voice was harsh and angry.
He slowly rose from his position hunched over the map, arms braced upright at right angles near his head to show the captain he had no weapon. “Ye wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man, now would ye, Cap’n?”
“I’d shoot a thief without thinking twice,” the captain replied with a sneer, nearly spitting the word thief.
He glanced down at the map. Studying it in case he was forced to leave without it. He had been in worse situations, more times than he could count. He considered the knife in the back of his breeches hidden beneath his shirt. It would be simple and quick to snake it out and whip it into the bastard’s throat. But a voice in his head reminded him … justice must be served in proper course.
“Turn around,” the captain ordered. “Slowly.”
“Why?” he asked, trying to garner some precious time.
“Because I want to see zee face of zee man who would steal my secrets.”
He began his turn. Slowly. So slowly and so quietly that he could have sworn he heard a drop of sweat from his forehead hit the wooden plank of the floor. He finally stood facing the older man.
Êtes-vous le Renard Noir?” the captain asked.
Pourquoi veux tu savoir?”
Visible in the light of the moon, the captain narrowed his eyes. “Ah, perfect French? Why do I find zat difficult to believe from an obvious Englishman?”
“Who else would want zis map?”
His fingers ached to choke the bastard. He might not be able to kill him, but he could wound the scoundrel. Nothing wrong with a wound. He whipped his hand behind his back, grabbed the knife, and hurled it at the captain. It hit the arm that held the pistol. The captain howled. The pistol fired. Smoke filled the cabin with its acrid stench. He ripped the map and fourth pin from the table and ran to the door.
Steps sounded on the planks above the captain’s cabin. In the pitch black belowdecks, he forced himself to wait in the shadows under the stairs until the first group of rescuers filed down the steps into the captain’s cabin. He flattened the map’s scroll and folded it into a six-inch square.
“He’s escaped, you idiots! Find him before he jumps from the ship!” the captain yelled in French.
The group dutifully filed back up to spread across the decks. The captain came running out, clutching his injured arm, blood seeping between his fingers, crimson dripping down his nightshirt. He made his way up the stairs and ran off across the deck.
Springing from the shadows, the thief raced back into the empty cabin. He flew over to the window, said a brief prayer to fit through the tight space, hoisted up to the ledge, and pushed his upper body through. He ripped off his black tricorn, stuck the folded map to his head, and pulled down the hat as firmly as possible.
A rope swung outside the captain’s window two feet to the right. Thank God for small favors. He lunged at it and grabbed it. Noiselessly, he lowered himself down the rope, bracing both feet against the hull to rappel toward the water. Lowering quietly, he winked back at the figurehead of a saucy French woman carved beneath the captain’s cabin. As soon as he made it into the water, he let go of the rope and swam like a mackerel fleeing a shark toward the shore, careful to keep his head out of the foul-smelling drink. He counted on the black of night and the murky Thames to hide him from the searchers on the ship.
As he covered the distance between the French ship and the shore, the Frenchmen’s shouts filled the night air. He dared a glance back. Every lantern on the ship appeared to have been lit and the crew was scurrying about like a bevy of ants on an infiltrated hill.
He swam to the darkest spot on the far end of the docks, around the bend from sight of the French ship, and pulled himself ashore beneath a creaky dock using only his forearms. Exhausted, he rolled onto his back and lay breathing heavily in the pitch-black night. One hand went up to clap the top of his tricorn and a wide smile spread across his face.
He’d done it. He’d escaped from a French ship with the map detailing the planned route to rescue Napoleon from St. Helena. Of course he had. He was the Black Fox.

Copyright © 2017 by Valerie Bowman

Valerie hi! Welcome back to the blog.
I just had to have you visit and talk about your new novel, Never Trust a Pirate.
Will you please tell my readers a bit about it?
I call it The Scarlet Pimpernel meets Dirty Rotten Scoundrels set in Regency England. It’s the story of a black sheep and a lady’s maid and an elusive character known as the Black Fox.

I have to admit I’m particularly excited about Pirates in romance.
Is this your first featuring a Pirate if so why now?
Yes! It’s my first pirate book, but I hope it won’t be the last. I’ve always adored pirates in historical romance myself. I try to write what I’d like to read.  As for why now, it’s only because the Playful Brides series hasn’t lent itself to a pirate before now.

Valerie this is book 7 in your Playful Brides series.
Are they just loosely connected or should they be read in order?
They don’t have to be read in order but they definitely feature the same characters so readers who’ve read the others will see some familiar faces.

In our last conversation you said you’d love to eventually write a contemporary novel. Hmmm I can think of plenty of Pirate heroes that would work today ;)
Obviously it’s historical scoundrels that make your muse happy.
I’m actually writing my first contemporary RIGHT NOW. No pirates I’m sorry to say. But the Playful Brides series is still going strong and I have no plans to stop writing historical heroes. A man who can rock a cravat and some boots is just hot. That is all.
Well Yay for us fans!!

Valerie back when you were planning your wedding you appeared in the Reality TV show, Atlanta version of Say Yes to the Dress.
I am actually going to be Mother of the Bride later this month, my daughter and her fiancé are getting married at an exclusive resort in Mexico and I’m so excited.
Did being a part of all that chaos and craziness help you in your writing career?
Wonderful news! Best wishes to the happy couple! It’s funny you should ask about Say Yes to the Dress. Every time it’s on, I get a spike in traffic to my website and I often have readers write and tell me they found my books through the show. So, I guess it has helped my career!

So fans know what you like to write.
What do you like to read and what was the last book you recommended to a friend?
In addition to historical romance (of course) I like to read True Crime books and books about writing. I’m currently reading Kerrigan Byrne’s The Duke and highly recommend it.
Oh that’s fabulous Valerie, I just happened to have interviewed her

Valerie did you always want to write, are you an accidental author? Will you share your road to authordom with my readers and me please?
Yes, I did always want to write. I wrote my first book when I was in kindergarten. It was called The Three Little Chickens and my grandma hole-punched it and tied a ribbon through the pages to make it into a real book. I still have it. It wasn’t until I was much older, however, that I began to write historical romance novels to pursue publication. My sister suggested it to me one day in 2007 and a few weeks later my mom said, “Weren’t you going to write a book someday?” I decided the universe was trying to remind me of something, so I began to write. I’ve been writing ever since.

Valerie thanks for stopping by the blog I love reconnecting with my writer friends. Good luck with your new novel.
Will you be attending any author/signing events in the near future?
Yes! I’ll be at the RT Booklover’s Convention in Atlanta in May, I’m having a big signing party in Jacksonville, FL on 5/13, I’ll be in Orlando at the Romance Writers of America conference in July, and I’ll be at Buns and Roses Tea for Literacy in Dallas in October.
Thank you so much for having me!
Meet all the Playful Brides

Connect with Valerie - Website - Facebook - Twitter
Meet Valerie:Valerie Bowman grew up in Illinois with six sisters (she’s number seven) and a huge supply of historical romance novels. After a cold and snowy stint earning a degree in English with a minor in history at Smith College, she moved to Florida the first chance she got. Valerie now lives in Jacksonville with her family including her mini-schnauzer, Huckleberry. When she’s not writing, she keeps busy reading, traveling, or vacillating between watching crazy reality TV and PBS. She is the author of the Secret Brides series, starting with Secrets of a Wedding Night, Secrets of a Runaway Bride, and Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage.

Today's Gonereading item is:
Items for Austen lovers
Click HERE for the buy page

a Rafflecopter giveaway


  1. Meagan McKinney, "Till Dawn Tames the Night. Excellent story.

  2. Thanks so much for sharing this Debbie and wonderful interview like always. ;)

  3. The Pirate Lord by Sabrina Jeffries. Thanks for this lovely feature and giveaway.

  4. Love a good black sheep story. Lovely cover!

  5. It's been a long time since I've read a pirate romance.

    1. Me too Mary I know it was a Johanna LIndsay Mallery Family novel though

  6. A Scarlet Pimperell mash-up and its a pirate story? Yum.

    How neat that Say Yes to the Dress hooked in many readers. And hey, congrats Debbie on your daughter's wedding, too.

    Thanks for the interview and book intro, ladies. :)

    1. I know her story just fascinated me Sophia Rose.. Thanks, we all leave in a little over a week!!!

  7. This sounds delightful. The cover is at RT, and I have been loving seeing my friends heads replacing the heroines.

  8. Congratulations in making your dreams come true, whatever happened to those three little chickens? Maybe writing children's books is in the horizon for you too :)

  9. The pirate lord by sabrina jeffries

  10. I have never read A Pirate romance.

  11. I haven't read one yet, but am eager to read one.