Today we excited to welcome Jade Lee to the blog! Jade’s
latest title, 50 Ways to Ruin a Rake, is out May 5th and is the first in her
hilarious new Rakes & Rogues series. To celebrate her new release, Jade is
here to share a quiz. See if you can guess correctly!
Question: Warning:
Goofy post! I'm in the home stretch of a 25 stop blog tour where each site has
gotten something original. I've said everything I can about 50 Ways to Ruin a
Rake without giving you the book. It's funny, sexy, and the best thing I've
ever written. Hope you check it out.
In the meantime, you get a goofy multiple choice question.
What does Jade consider the stupidest mistake in her writing career?
A. Starting out in sweet traditional regencies. No sex.
Barely even a kiss at the end. I had no market savvy whatsoever.
B. Writing historicals set in China. My Tigress series was a
six book disaster. Who wants to read about China?
C. Not writing more paranormals. I love those and now the
market is flooded and nobody wants them. Too bad. I'm writing them anyway and
they'll be just for me. And the two other people who can find them.
D. Not googling Jade Lee before I took the penname. She's a
porn star. Latest project: Timid Pimps where she plays Jade the Blind Hooker.
We'll put the answer further down - so keep reading to see if you picked the right one!
--------------------
Title: 50 Ways to Ruin a Rake
Author: Jade Lee
Series: Rakes and Rogues
Pubdate: May 5th, 2015
ISBN: 9781492604990
Mellie Smithson has a plan…
Mellie Smithson is trapped in the country with no suitors
and no prospects on the horizon except, perhaps, the exasperating—although
admittedly handsome—guest of her father. Unwilling to settle, Mellie will do
anything to escape to London...
Trevor Anaedsley has a problem…
Trevor Anaedsley’s grandfather has cut off his funds until
he gets engaged. Beset by creditors, Trevor escapes to the country—ostensibly
to visit his old tutor Mr. Smithson—where he meets Smithson’s lovely daughter
Mellie. The obvious solution is suddenly before him—but will this fake
engagement go as Trevor and Mellie plan? Or will they find that even the best
laid plans often go awry?
USA Today bestselling author Jade Lee has been scripting
love stories since she first picked up a set of paper dolls. Ball gowns and
rakish lords caught her attention early (thank you, Georgette Heyer), and her
fascination with the Regency began. An author of more than thirty romance
novels and winner of dozens of industry awards, Lee lives in Champaign, Illinois.
***** So who wants to know the answer? I DO I DO!!! *****
Answer: D. Starting out in traditional regencies was a labor
of love. That's how I started reading regencies, and I still love the work I
produced back then, even though it's missing the sex. My tigress series might
not have been a huge sales success, but I connected with my mother and my
ancestry with those books. I don't regret them at all. And yes, maybe I should
have written more paranormals back before they were popular, but I was doing
good work in other places.
So
the big stupidity? I didn't google Jade Lee before I took the penname. My
mother once asked me about my newest book, Pussyman's Escape from LA. That's
not a book, mom. I have seriously regretted that stupidity since the day I
discovered there was another Jade Lee. BTW, that's why my website is: www.JadeLeeAUTHOR.com Don't want to confuse anyone.
Excerpt from 50 Ways to Ruin a Rake
Trevor was down. Ronnie was going to finish the fight. But
he hadn’t reckoned on Melinda. She’d been an unwilling participant in this
whole disgusting display. Well, if her cousin wanted a Cheltenham tragedy, she
would bloody well give him one.
She surged forward, having no need to fake the desperation
in her voice. “Stop it! Ronnie, stop it now!” And when he didn’t hear her, she
said the words she’d never thought she’d utter in her entire life. “My love!”
That got his attention. His fist was raised, but he looked
to her, his eyes alight with excitement. “Mellie!”
She flung herself forward. Dropping to her knees, she slid
in the mud, coming to a stop just where she’d intended—right beside Trevor’s
head. Ronnie reached for her, but she pushed him away as she wrapped herself
around the fallen lord.
“Stay away, you brute!” she practically spit at her cousin.
Then she used her cloak to dab at the blood on Trevor’s face. “My love, my
love, are you alive? Oh God, someone fetch a doctor! Please, someone!”
Her words were ten times more dramatic than were needed, but
she’d learned that the best way to deliver a message to her cousin was in the
most theatrical tone possible. So she cradled Trevor in her arms and crooned
like any heroine in the most lurid gothic romance.
Trevor’s face was indeed a battered mess, but not so
unrecognizable that she didn’t see the gleam of appreciation in his eyes or the
mischievous smile that pulled at his swollen lip.
“Are you an angel?” he asked. “Have I died?”
The man was lying in the mud, his ankle nearly snapped in
half. His face oozed from a myriad of cuts, and yet he still had the
wherewithal to give the crowd a good show. It was enough to make her
contemplate dropping him in the mud. She didn’t, of course, but she hoped her
glare would suffice.
Meanwhile, Ronnie just stood there poised, his fist still
raised as he gaped. “Mellie?”
She looked up, shooting a venomous look at his bloodied
fist. “Do you mean to trounce me as well? Lay me out in the mud and the shite
like last week’s garbage?”
“What?” Ronnie took a moment to understand while she
gestured with her chin toward his fist. Then he abruptly gasped and shook out
his hand, dropping it helplessly to his side. “But I won. This was an affaire
d’honor.”
“Congratulations,” she mocked. “You beat a man half your
weight.”
“Hey!” muttered Trevor. “I’m not that small.”
“Oh shut up. I’m making a point.” Then she turned her
attention to her cousin. Best make the situation absolutely clear. “You were
right, Ronnie. You have made everything so clear to me. I could never love a
brute like you. It’s him I want. A man of elegance, not violence.”
She watched her cousin absorb her words, his mind obviously
working slowly, and no wonder. Certainly, Ronnie was an accomplished fighter,
but he’d never in his life been called a brute. He was a poet, for God’s sake.
And his father was wont to call him a useless fribble with no starch
whatsoever. Of course, both appellations were completely wrong, but truth
didn’t matter here. Not when he’d wanted drama. And so she stretched the
truth—she outright broke it—and she felt no remorse.
“I love Trevor,” she said loudly enough for everyone to
hear.
“Since when?” her cousin demanded.
Since never. She had a thorough disgust of them both.
Especially as Trevor began to speak in a quavering voice.
“Oh, to finally hear those words, now in the moments before
I expire. My life is complete.”
“You’re not dying,” she hissed. Unless he was hurt more than
he appeared. The thought shot her with alarm until he started speaking again.
“I am dying!” he cried. “Kiss me, my love. Kiss me, and
mayhap your love will keep me tethered to this mortal coil.”
“I will not,” she said between clenched teeth.
He pitched his voice to a plaintive wail. “Then I shall die
for sure!”
Damnation on all bloody, arrogant, ridiculous men! One
glance about her showed that the crowd was hanging on his every word. She
didn’t really care until she looked at Ronnie’s face. He wasn’t stupid. He
could see that Trevor wasn’t really hurt. It wouldn’t take him long to remember
that she’d never spoken of Trevor with anything but disdain. And from there it
was a small step to realizing that this entire display was a sham. So she had
to do something quickly. Something that he’d never forget, even if he did
suspect the lie.
So she did it. She kissed Trevor.
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