Please welcome historical bestselling author, Virginia
Henley.
It has been an absolute delight
getting to know this lady.
She had a
huge problem with her computer during the time we were getting acquainted, but
she persevered in answering all my questions.
Virginia Henley is the author of thirty historical
romances and five novellas. Henley is
a New York Times bestselling author and the
recipient of a dozen awards, including the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award. Her novels have been translated into fourteen languages.
A grandmother of three, she lives in St. Petersburg,
Florida, with her husband.
Q. Briefly take us
on the journey with you--when did you start writing and what hurdles did you have to overcome to get published?
A. One day around 1978
I read a book by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss that combined history with a sensual
love story. I realized immediately that I could do this. My mother had died and my father came to live
with us. So I had my husband, two sons, and my father, all watching men's
programs on TV and I knew I had to do something for myself.
I forbade the men to touch my writing on the coffee table,
and it took me a whole year to write my first historical romance in long hand,
and a month to type it. Then for the next four years I sent out the manuscript
to various publishers. They'd keep it for about six months and return it saying
they didn't read unsolicited manuscripts. In the meantime I wrote a second book
that I called The Irish Gypsy.
One day I was in a bookstore and I found a historical romance
where the author had dedicated her book to her editor, Page Cuddy at Avon
Books. So I wrote her a letter, told her a bit about myself and a bit about my
book. She said to pop it in the mail and she would read it. She bought the book
for $1,500 and it was published in 1982. I wrote two more for Avon.
Then the publisher left, my editor got married and left, and the new people
didn't want my next book.
So I decided to get myself an agent. I had met Jay Acton in New
York at a book conference, who represented some
big-name authors, and he agreed to take me on. He sold me to Dell Books and it
wasn't long before I started to make the bestseller lists.
The tenth book I wrote, SEDUCED, made the New York Times
Bestseller List and I got up on the roof and shouted it to the world! I
consider myself extremely lucky to have been a part of what I call the golden
age of publishing. In the 90's publishers did marvelous things for their
successful writers. They flew me to New York
to be professionally photographed---hair, makeup, the whole thing. They sent me
to all the major cities in the U.S.
on book tours, meeting me at the airport with a driver, and putting me up at the best hotels. They held contests for my
readers with prizes like a tropical vacation at a Sandals Resort and amazingly,
they bought me full-page ads in Cosmopolitan Magazine that cost $60,000. Those
were the days!
Q. Those were
certainly the days, and they seem to be over for the upcoming authors. I can't
imagine a publisher paying $60,000 these days for a full-page ad. Those were definitely the golden days. Back to more questions now. When do you do your best writing and where?
A. I get up early and
after the newspaper and coffee, I write until about two in the afternoon. About
ten years ago my husband built me an office with all glass sliding doors that
overlooks the pool. Beyond the pool is the waterway that opens into the Gulf
Of Mexico. We have so many exotic birds that I see everyday. There
are flocks of green parakeets, pelicans, herons, anhingas, white ibis, and
ospreys.
Q. What made you
decide to write in the historical genre? Is there any other genre you would
like to try writing?
A. My passion is
history--not writing books. I was born in England,
and when you are an English schoolgirl they teach you a great deal of British
history. It's the research that I love. I
have written one contemporary novella, Hot As Fire, and though I'm quite
pleased with the story, my heart lies with writing historical romance, because
it is what I do best.
Q. Who is the
favorite character in your book?
A. THE DARK EARL was
just released in mass market paperback. It was released in Trade Size a year
before that. This is the third book in what I call my Peers Of The Realm
series, after THE DECADENT DUKE, and THE IRISH DUKE. My hero is usually my favorite character.
They are always dark, dominant and dangerous, and then I create a heroine who
is a match for him, or more than a match.
The hero of THE DARK EARL is Thomas Anson, the Earl of
Lichfield. He marries Lady Harriet Hamilton, daughter of the Duke and Duchess
of Abercorn. These people are real
people of history. The scandalous exploits of these real people are far more
shocking and therefore fascinating, than anything I could make up. I have just turned in the 4th and final book
of this series. LORD RAKEHELL will be published in Nov. 2013.
Q. If a movie were
made of your book, which celebrity would you want to portray the hero? The heroine?
A. There are not a lot
of actors to choose from because they would have to have British accents.
Perhaps Keira Knightley, and Daniel Lissing (who is Australian, and a hunk!)
But to be honest, I would much rather leave it to the reader's imagination.
When we read, we all conjure an image of the hero and heroine, and they are
different for every reader.
Q. What is the
hardest part of any book to write? What is your strongest point as a writer?
A. For me the hardest
part to write is the opening chapter. It usually takes longer to write this
chapter, because you have to get it exactly right and set the scene and tone
for the whole book.
My books are character driven, so the characters and the
dialogue are the strongest point of my books.
I become the hero and feel his lust, I become the heroine and wear all
her lovely clothes, I become the servant and feel her sore feet and aching
back, I become the villain, and
experience his evil desires, and become all my minor characters such as the
prostitute who has to find a way to get the coins out of the men's pockets.
Q. What social media
do you prefer? Facebook, MySpace, LinkedIn, Twitter, etc.
A: Facebook wins hands down for me. My son designed a great
header for my page, and I can publicize other author's books there, as well as
my own.
For more information about Virginia Henley, please visit her Romance Books '4' Us Author page at
http://www.romancebooks4us.com.
BLURB:
Is it about the man... or the manor?
It's love at first sight for
Lady Harriet Hamilton...love with Thomas Anson's ancestral home, that
is. Thomas's father, the Earl of Lichfield, has gambled away the family's
honor, and now it's cost them everything at Shugborough Hall. The estate
sale is shameful enough for Thomas without some little brat sneaking around
his property, but vivacious Harry has caught him
sneaking around as well...
When they meet again years
later, neither Harry nor Viscount Anson has forgotten their encounter.
While Thomas has grown into the exact opposite of his reprobate father, Harry is outspoken,
audacious, and now, Thomas must admit, quite a beauty. But he's committed to
restoring the family holdings, not chasing after a wife. If only she wasn't hurling
herself against his principles-- and having such a good time doing it...
EXCERPT:
They meet in the prologue, but the first chapter
opens where they meet again years later:
Chapter One
Hampden House, London.
June 1854
"Oh, Bugger and Balls!
Sometimes I wish we were back in Ireland." Lady Harriet Hamilton removed the
second hat she had tried on and flung it across the room. "Living in London is far too repressive. I have no freedom to do
anything."
Her sister, Lady Beatrix,
laughed. "It hasn't curtailed your swearing."
Harry joined in her laughter.
"Nor my wagering, or flirting, or roaming about the city unescorted."
She looked in the mirror and wrinkled her nose.
"It's these bloody fashions set by the queen. They are
hideous!"
"You're nineteen, going on twenty, so you can't
possibly go bareheaded."
"Well, I abso-bloody-lutely refuse to wear a bonnet.
They make me look like Old Mother Hubbard."
She was totally unaware that her long dark hair and pale green eyes gave her a rare and striking beauty.
The Duchess of Abercorn swept into her daughters'
bedchamber. "Aren't you ready yet? I usually insist on being fashionably late,
but today that's out of the question. Victoria and
Albert are officiating at this grand opening of the second Crystal Palace, and we cannot insult the queen by walking in late." The Duke of
Abercorn was Prince
Albert's
Groom of the Stole, and for the last eight years also had been his friend and
confidant. "This official opening, which marks the beginning of the
Season, has already been delayed a month because the male statues were
considered too shocking for the queen's sensibilities." She gave a
sardonic laugh. "Since Victoria has had eight children, I'm sure she's more than familiar
with male parts."
"It is utter desecration
to ruin beautiful statues by chopping off their genitals and replacing them
with fig leaves," Harry said with disgust.
"Oh, the fig leaves were
subsequently considered too offensive, so now they've draped all the statues
with cloth."
Harriet and Beatrix rolled
their eyes.
"Do you think Prince
Teddy will be there?" Jane, who was seventeen, asked with apprehension.
"Of course he'll be
there. He's the heir to the throne and his doting parents think the sun shines
out his arse," her mother replied. "What's he done now?"
"When we were at Windsor last week, he touched my breast," Jane declared.
"But he's only
thirteen," Harry said.
"What the devil does age
have to do with it?" her mother asked. "He's a male, and already
randy by the looks of him. Don't be alone with him darling, or he'll have your
drawers off."
"Royalty has its
privileges," Harry quipped.
"Too bad he isn't a bit
older," Beatrix said with a wink. "If you play your cards right, you
could end up a princess."
Jane blushed. "You are a
devil, Trixy!"
"All three of you are
devils. What's the hold up here?" their mother demanded.
"Harry refuses to wear a
bonnet," Trixy complained.
"Well, I should think
so," the duchess declared, plucking the decoration from one of the discarded
hats. "Pin this bunch of cherries into your hair. Always remember, we don't follow fashion, we
set it." She touched the crimson ostrich feathers on her own hat to prove
her point.
When the fashionably gowned
quartet emerged onto Green Street, they found sixteen-year-old James waiting
by the phaeton. He opened the carriage door for the ladies. "I'm sitting
on the box with Riley. Your crinolines leave no room for me."
"Just don't let your new
top hat blow away," his mother warned.
James shut the door. "I
wish you had let me take the train. It lets you off at the main gate to the
palace grounds."
"The railway was built to
accommodate the masses. There will be such a crush of hoi polloi today, you
wouldn't be able to breathe," the duchess declared with a shudder.
"I'll ride the train with
you later in the week, James," Harry offered. "I rather like the hoi
polloi."
James climbed up beside their
driver. He turned, winked at his sister, grinned at his mother, removed his hat
and held it in his lap for safekeeping.
"You have a tender heart,
Harry. I put it down to the time your father was the Lord Lieutenant of County Donegal and the ruinous rains came. One end of Ireland to the other became a vast wasteland of putrefying
vegetation. I took you with me on my mercy visits to the poor, and you've
championed the down-trodden ever since."
"I'm following in Uncle
Johnny's footsteps." Lord John Russell, the Duchess of Abercorn's half-brother, had served a
six-year term as England's Prime Minister
until two years ago.
"Our family has decidedly
bad timing. Johnny had been in the House of Commons thirty-three years before
he became Prime Minister. Ireland hadn't had a chance to recover from the tragic potato
famine when he took office."
"But he was still able to
do lots of good things," Harry reminded her mother. "Not only did he
abolish the Corn Laws, he was able to limit the working hours for women."
"Oh let's not talk
politics, Harry. The Season officially opens today and it's supposed to be a
celebration," Trixy declared.
"Every other year, the
Season opens in May. That's another delay we can blame on Her Gracious
Majesty," Harry said with disgust.
"Speaking of
celebrations, I don't understand why I can't make my debut with Harry and
Trixy. Think of the expense it will save if we all have our Season
together."
"Since when did you start
caring about expenses, Jane?" her mother asked dryly. "A coming out
ball tells society that the young ladies making their debut are ready for
marriage. Since Harriet and Beatrix are only a year apart, they are having
their Season together."
"But I'm seventeen. I
don't want to be left out," Jane pleaded.
"You're hardly out of the
school room. It would be scandalous of me to throw you onto the marriage
market. Just be happy that I will allow you to attend their ball."
Harry poked Trixy in the ribs
with her elbow. "D'you hear that? We are to be thrown on the marriage
market. Sold to the highest bidder, I warrant."
"Sounds like an exciting
adventure to me," Trixy teased. "A guinea says I get more proposals
than you."
"Marriage proposals, or
the other kind?" Harry asked.
"Don't jest. You'll get
plenty of both," their mother warned.
"You shock my
sensibilities. Society's morals have changed since the decadent Regency era,
when you came of age, Mother. Gentlemen today treat ladies as if they were
saints. They want their females to be pure and innocent, and will do everything
in their power to protect them from being tainted by the wicked world."
Harry gave a mock sigh. "Queen Victoria has taken all the fun out of everything."
"Rubbish! Gentlemen may pay lip service to pure and
innocent, but in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Beneath the
facade of respectability, lust and licentiousness lurk. The male of the species will take
advantage of any opportunity."
Harry winked at her sisters.
"Is that what Father did?"
Lady Lu smiled her secret
smile. "None of you would have been born if he hadn't. The last thing I
wanted was a child."
Harry's eyes widened in
surprise. "How did he persuade you?"
"He promised that if I
gave in to his passionate advances, he would give me a girl." Her wry gaze swept over her daughters.
"If I'd known he would give me three in the space of three years, I might
have resisted."
The Hamilton sisters laughed. Their mother had always said outrageous
things and she encouraged them to follow in her footsteps.
When they arrived at Crystal Palace Park, there was already a crush of carriages. Riley drove the phaeton as close to the front
entrance as he could manage, and the Hamilton family alighted and made their
way inside to await Her Royal Highness,
Queen Victoria and Albert, her Prince Consort.
They made their way past the
series of ornamental fountains and ascended the dais built especially for the
ribbon-cutting ceremony. Within minutes the royal family came into view with
its retinue of attendants.
Harry's glance was drawn to
her father who walked directly behind Albert.
Not only was Abercorn taller,
but far more handsome in her opinion, since the Prince Consort's hair had
receded alarmingly. She watched her parents exchange an intimate glance. They
are still in love with each other. That's the kind of marriage I want.
As Queen Victoria delivered her speech, extolling the Crystal Palace as a showplace for the industrial,
military, and economic superiority of Great Britain, Harry's mind wandered back to the summers at Barons Court, their Irish estate. Vivid memories of her father rowing
her mother across the fairytale lakes, or taking her up before him on one of
his Arabians filled her head. He's still wooing her after twenty years of
marriage. Harry sighed. How utterly romantic!
Her thoughts were brought back
to the present when she saw young Prince Teddy edging close to her sister Jane.
Harry murmured to her brother, "Teddy can't keep his hands off Jane. When
you get him alone, thump him on the nose."
He whispered back, "I may
be reckless, but I'm not raving mad. Teddy will be king one day. It pays to
have friends in high places." He glanced at fourteen-year-old Princess
Vicky. "It must run in the family. The Princess Royal can't keep her hands
off my private parts."
"Well, I'll be
damned!" Harry exclaimed in utter shock.
"We declare the second
Great Exhibition open to the public." Victoria cut the ribbon and the throng cheered, "God Save Our
Gracious Majesty!"
The fountain water jets
suddenly rose up over a hundred feet in the air. The spectacle caused the crowd to step back,
and only the privileged spectators on the front row were anointed by the spray.
Harry lost no time making her
getaway. But before she left the dais she paused before Prince Teddy and smiled
sweetly. "I dreamed about you last night, Your Highness. You touched Jane's breast, and I shoved you
on your arse!"
It took him a moment to gauge
her meaning then he threw back his head and laughed with glee. "That's why
I didn't touch yours, Harry."
She shook her fist at him and
hurried off, eager to see the fantastical displays that had been brought from around
the world. An entire wing of the glass building had been divided into courts
depicting the history of art and architecture from ancient Egypt through the Renaissance. Harry drank it all in, moving
slowly so she could appreciate the fine details. She stopped to look at a
display of extinct animals from around the world. She stared at some ugly green
creatures made of plaster.
A deep voice from behind her
said, "They are called dinosaurs. Do you like them?"
Harry turned around to see who
addressed her. The gentleman was tall and extremely dark. There was something
vaguely familiar about him that stirred her memory, and suddenly she was swept
back to Shugborough, the mansion that had stolen her heart more than a decade ago. She could even
smell the jasmine and honeysuckle.
"I would call them monstrosities," she drawled. "I much
prefer centaurs."
Their eyes met, and held.
"So, you know who I am."
"And you, obviously, are
aware of my identity."
Green eyes stared into black,
as the male and female took each other's measure. Harry saw a man in his late
twenties. Though handsome, his features were stern and unsmiling. He carried
himself with a great deal of unbending pride, and had an animal magnetism that
was fatally attractive.
"I think it unwise to
wander about alone in this crowd. May I escort you back to your family, my
lady?"
"You arrogant
devil!" She laughed in his face. "I would be offended, if you weren't so ridiculous. I do not conform to the rigid
rules of propriety, my lord!"
He looked pointedly at the
cherries adorning her hair. "It is evident that your upbringing has been
remiss. Your father should have taken you across his knee."
"And tanned my arse? If I
remember correctly, that's what you threatened to do the last time we
met."
It was clear the young beauty
was mocking him. She had been outspoken as a child; now she was downright
brazen. Thomas Anson was tempted to take her by the shoulders and shake the
insolence from her. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from violating her.
Anson possessed a supreme air
of authority that rubbed Harry the wrong way. She threw him a contemptuous
smile and turned away. Before she had taken a dozen steps, she came face to
face with D'Arcy Lambton, the young Earl of Durham. He was the grandson of Lord Earl Grey, and a close
family friend.
"Hello, Harriet. You look
ravishing today."
"D'Arcy." She gave him her hand and he took it to his
lips.
"Did you know they have a
circus set up in the center transept?" He pointed in the opposite
direction. "Oh, there's my friend, Thomas. Come, let me introduce you to him." He led her toward Anson, and
greeted him warmly.
"Allow me to present Lady
Harriet Hamilton...this is my good friend Thomas, Lord Anson."
The corners of Harry's mouth
lifted with amusement as she offered Anson her hand.
He took it stiffly, and bent
his mouth to her fingers.
"You're supposed to kiss
it, not bite it," she warned with a gurgle of laughter.
"You know each
other?" D'Arcy asked with surprise.
"Thomas and I have been
acquainted for years. We once conspired to steal some paintings together."
D'Arcy laughed. "I
warrant they were valuable. Thomas is an authority on art."
Anson glared at her with
disapproval. "You are incorrigible," he muttered.
"Flattery, begod!"
Harry teased.
"Harriet and I are going
to take a look at the circus. Why don't you join us?"
"Oh, yes, please
do," she urged. "I hear they have a tightrope walker."
Anson accepted immediately.
Since he knew her invitation was insincere, it gave him perverse satisfaction.
Harry, flanked by the two
handsome lords, one fair the other extremely dark, made her way through the
crowd to the center transept. Trumpets blared, followed by a drum roll, and as
everyone raised their eyes they saw a man ascending a narrow metal ladder. He
didn't stop until he reached a dizzying height, then he took a firm grip on a
long, thin pole and stepped out onto a high wire that was almost invisible. The
crowd below gave a collective gasp.
"His name is Blondin. If
he walks the tightrope successfully, it will make him famous," Thomas predicted.
"A guinea says he doesn't
make it all the way across!"
D'Arcy coughed uncomfortably.
"Thomas doesn't make wagers. He is opposed to any kind of gambling on principle."
Harry felt her cheeks flush.
She knew she had made a faux pas. Instead of apologizing, she said recklessly,
"Surely when a male wagers, it shows courage."
His features hardened. "And
when a female wagers, it shows vulgarity. As a matter of fact I find this
entire display rather vulgar."
"If you are referring to
Blondin's tights, I think they display his manhood magnificently."
It was D'Arcy's turn to flush.
Harry gritted her teeth. There
was something about the dark devil that made her behave outrageously. She saw
Anson's eyes narrow. The look of censure he gave her was threatening. If we
were alone he'd shake me until my teeth rattled.
Harry slipped her arm into
D'Arcy's, using him as a shield. "Did you receive your invitation to our
ball? The guest list was extremely selective, but since you are an earl, we
made an exception in your case," she teased.
"You and Lady Beatrix are
making your debut together. I assume you'll be spending the Season in London and won't be going to Barons Court until later in the year?"
Harry sighed. "You assume
correctly, more is the pity. I miss Ireland."
"What is it that you
miss?" Anson asked pointedly.
"I miss the people. They
have an irreverent sense of humor. They are not straight-laced like the
English, who worship at the altar of respectability."
"To the Irish, drinking
and gambling are virtues," Anson said dryly.
"Indeed they are. I am
grateful that they taught me to do both."
His dark eyes were filled with
censure. "You revel in audacity."
"You have guessed my
secret, my lord. Since I discerned your secret years ago, I warrant we are
even."
A cry of alarm from the crowd
drew all eyes upward, where Blondin swayed precariously, before he regained his
balance.
"Oh Lord, I can't bear to
watch. If he falls, it will make me ill. It's outrageous that a man is forced
to do such things for money."
Anson's grim expression softened.
"You've just revealed another secret...you are tender hearted."
"Yes, I do take pity on
those less fortunate." Her green eyes glittered with mischief.
"So you may consider
yourself invited to my debut ball."
"I admit to being guilty
of showing my disapproval, Lady Harriet, but surely such cruel punishment
doesn't fit the crime."
She threw back her head and
laughed. "You do have a sense of humor after all!"
It sounds like a wonderful story, Virginia. It has been lovely getting to meet you. Is there anything you would like to add?
I am grateful for this opportunity to be interviewed by
Romance Books 4 Us.
Virginia, I assure you, we have loved
having you here. Here are some other
places where you can find Virginia.
Facebook:
http://www.Facebook.com/virginia.henley1
Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/VirginiaJHenley
Pinterest:
http://pinterest.com/VirginiaHenley
