Please give a warm welcome to SHERI HUMPHREYS--one of my Golden Heart sisters! She's giving us the lowdown on THE UNSEDUCIBLE EARL, Book 1 of the Nightingales Series. It will release in July--so you get the details before everyone else.
Before we get too far--I want to make sure you know that Sheri is giving away an ebook or print copy of THE UNSEDUCIBLE EARL to a lucky commenter. See below for her question.
MEET SHERI HUMPHREYS
Sheri
Humphreys used to be an Emergency Room nurse, but today applies bandages,
splints, and slings to the characters of her Victorian romance novels. She
loves to ignore yardwork and housework and read—usually a book every one to
three days. Having conjured stories in her mind her entire life, she wondered
if she were normal. Then she began putting stories to paper and became a
two-time Golden Heart® finalist. She lives with a Jack
Russell mix rescue, Lucy, in a small town on the central California coast.
A Hero to Hold received a prized Kirkus
Star and was named to Kirkus Reviews’ Best Books of 2016.
Let's find out more about THE UNSEDUCIBLE EARL
THE STORY BLURB
The
end of the Crimean War brings Victoria Thorne home to face a society that isn’t
ready for a lady with the education and experience of a physician. While
nursing a Crimean veteran she proves herself able to deal with medical
challenges and discrimination, but she’s dismayed when she develops an
attraction to her patient’s betrothed brother, the Earl of Cheriton.
Robb
Merrick, Earl of Cheriton, is engaged to a darling of society, yet finds
himself drawn to his brother’s nurse. She makes him feel connected with the
world instead of cocooned by his title and position. He craves the freedom to
pledge his love and loyalty, but ending his betrothal means entangling them all
in scandal. How can an honorable gentleman be expected to keep his vow when
doing so means destroying all hope of happiness?
READ A LITTLE
Victoria barely glanced at the
room that served as parlor, kitchen and dining room. A toddler with wide eyes
sat on a rug in front of the fireplace, a wooden horse clutched in one chubby
hand. An iron stove and a substantial table dominated the left end of the room.
A ribbon of steam wafted from a kettle.
She made for the doorway at the
parlor end. A woman’s voice cried out from the next room. “Take care of the
baby, Arthur,” Victoria said, and hurried through to the bedroom, Cheriton at
her heels.
A woman lay abed in her
nightshift. Her chest heaved. “Thank you, Lord.” The woman’s dark, glittering
eyes pleaded for help. Sweat beaded her face and turned her dark blonde hair
brown. Her hands clutched her maturely pregnant belly.
Cheriton stopped in the doorway
and turned aside from the room. “Mrs. Brown, this lady is Miss Thorne. She’s
staying at the Court, nursing my brother. Please, let her help you.”
Mrs. Brown’s gaze flicked
between Victoria and the earl, then locked on Victoria. “It’s too soon, and all
wrong. It started so quick and hard, but the babe won’t come.” Her hand reached
for the bedsheet and pulled it up, covering herself from the neck down.
Victoria heard both puzzlement
and fear in the woman’s voice. Mrs. Brown’s gaze dropped to her belly. She
moaned, grabbed up fistfuls of the bedsheets, and arched her back.
She’s scared to death.
Victoria looked at Mrs. Brown’s clutching hands and placed one hand on the
laboring woman’s hard belly. The lack of resilience there meant the woman was
having a contraction. Her low moan gained in volume, climbing to a crescendo.
The contraction ended, she gasped, and her body sagged.
Victoria picked up the woman’s
hand and gripped it, trying to transfer some of her own resolve to the laboring
woman. “I’m going to help you, Mrs. Brown. I’m an experienced nurse, and I’ve
had midwife training. I’ve delivered many babies.” Mrs. Brown’s crimped lips
trembled and her hand tightened around Victoria’s.
The woman blinked. Two tears
leaked from the corners of her eyes and slid into her hair. She bit down on her
already ravaged-looking lower lip and nodded. Victoria gave Mrs. Brown’s hand
an answering squeeze, then released it and stepped to the foot of the bed.
She tugged the sheet loose from
the bottom of the mattress and folded it back, exposing Mrs. Brown’s bare feet.
Using as much discretion as she could, she lifted the woman’s hem. Bloody fluid
spread under her hips, the buttocks and two small purple legs protruded from
the birth canal. The loop of umbilical cord dangling alongside the legs stopped
Victoria’s heart. If the baby was to have any chance of surviving, she had to
remove the infant from the womb now.
She drew in a sharp breath,
shoved her feelings aside, and concentrated on Mrs. Brown. No matter what
happened, she needed to be collected and decisive. She let the sheet fall and
looked at Cheriton’s broad back. He stood in the doorway, head down, studying
the toes of his boots. Waiting. Mrs. Brown moaned with another contraction.
“I need towels, a blanket,
string or yarn, and a knife.” She hurried to the pitcher and bowl sitting atop
a
dresser and began a fast scrub of her hands. Even with every minute crucial,
her belief in Florence Nightingale’s philosophy of cleanliness held. Cheriton
lifted his head and looked at her.
Drying her hands, Victoria
crossed to the doorway. “Wash in the scullery. Then get those supplies.” She
paused, grabbed his arm and searched his eyes, the flecks of gold and green
bright in their pools of treacle brown. He needed to understand. “The baby’s in
the breech position and the navel string is hanging out. It’s . . . dire.” He
turned to the main room and she returned to Mrs. Brown.
Victoria folded the bedsheet
and Mrs. Brown’s shift back to her knees. With her legs bent, the fabric made a
tent and obstructed the view of any but someone at her feet.
Cheriton appeared at the door
with a stack of towels and stood sideways, face turned away. “Where do you want
these?”
“Over here. I’m going to need
your help with her.”
“What?” His head jerked around and he stared
as if he thought her an escapee of Bedlam.
“I need your help,” she
repeated, trying to put all her consequence and feeling of urgency into her voice.
He frowned; shook his head as
if rolling the idea from one side of his brain to the other. “That’s
outrageous. I can’t help you.”
She hurried to him, grabbed the
towels from his arms, and put her face within inches of his. “I can’t do this
without you.” He opened his mouth, probably to voice another protest, and she
rushed ahead. “Whether your objection is due to the lack of propriety, a
squeamish stomach, or something else, there’s no choice and very little time.”
He glanced at Mrs. Brown, who
was mumbling a prayer. His mouth firmed and he gave Victoria a short nod,
looking decidedly aggrieved. “Let me fetch the rest of the supplies. I’ll be
quick.” He disappeared into the main room.
Victoria turned to Mrs. Brown.
She hated adding to the woman’s distress, but she had to know what lay ahead.
“Your babe is coming out feet
first. I’m sorry. This may be difficult and painful, but we haven’t any time to
waste.”
Mrs. Brown’s chin quivered.
“Will the baby be all right? I’m so scared,” she said, voice thick with tears.
A strangled sob escaped. “I don’t want to die.”
For every woman, childbirth
meant facing the looming possibility of death. At this moment, Mrs. Brown’s
fear must be overpowering. Victoria wanted to reassure her, hold her hand and
comfort her, but she couldn’t take time. The woman’s infant was in extreme
jeopardy.
She willed Mrs. Brown to meet
her gaze, and when she did, Victoria tried to communicate her determination.
“I’m doing everything in my power to get both you and the baby through this. We’re
going to do it together.” Victoria kept her voice firm. “Now, I’m going to feel
your womb.”
Taking a deep breath, and
mentally throwing out a quick “please, God,” she slid two fingers up the birth
canal and felt the smooth, firm rim of Mrs. Brown’s womb. The baby’s buttocks
were past the womb opening. Why hadn’t the delivery progressed further?
Victoria located the prolapsed
umbilical cord and advanced her fingers past the cervix and into the womb,
lifting and alleviating pressure from the cord. That reduced compression of the
cord, allowing return of circulation to the infant, who was small. Slow and
cautious, she stretched her fingers along the babe’s warm, slick curves.
Victoria let out her pent-up
breath and took in air. She’d determined the orientation of the child by feel.
The arms were extended above the infant’s head, the shoulders the probable
reason delivery had stopped. She slid her hand farther, index and middle
fingers feeling for the shoulder joint. Finding it, she hooked her finger over
the infant’s upper arm and pulled it down. In the tight confines of the uterus
it was difficult, even given how flexible the babe’s bones and joints were.
Mrs. Brown shrieked and
thrashed her head back and forth. She dug her heels into the bed and pushed
away from Victoria’s hands. No. She’d never be successful if Mrs. Brown
struggled against her.
“Cheriton,” she called. “I need
you.”
BUY THE BOOK
It's not up for Pre-Order yet -- but stay tuned! You can check in at Sheri's social media sites listed below.
A LIGHTING ROUND OF Q&A WITH SHERI HUMPHREYS
NAN: How often do you get lost in a story?
SHERI: I read a lot, and
usually do get lost in the story, at the very least for a portion of the book.
I just read TISHA by Robert Specht, for my book club. It’s a biography about a
teacher in rural Alaska in the 1920s. The last quarter of the book, a chase in
a dog sled, was gripping! I couldn’t put it down.
Nan: That does sound fun.
NAN: What’s
your favorite fairy tale?
SHERI: I don’t know that I
can choose just one. As a kid, I read and re-read fairy tales. Now I like to
give fairy tale books as baby gifts, hopeful that mom or dad will read them
aloud. Beauty and the Beast was always a favorite, and it’s a romance trope I
enjoy to this day.
Nan: Start those romance readers young!
NAN: What
do you do to unwind and relax?
SHERI: I
moved from Central California to the Central California Coast four years ago. Recently,
I started walking on the beach pretty much every day. I take my dog, and she
adores it! I’ve been posting daily pictures on Facebook and am amazed how each
visit I notice something new and interesting. I love looking for and finding
moonstones and sea glass (the beach I walk on is called Moonstone Beach), and
love the way the ocean and sky constantly change.
Nan: Your beach walks sound wonderful.
NAN: What three things are, at
this moment, in your heroine’s purse, satchel, reticule, weapons belt or amulet
bag (whatever she carries)?
SHERI: : Victoria Thorne in THE
UNSEDUCIBLE EARL carries a Victorian nurse’s satchel. Among other things, it
contains dressings/bandages made of cotton fabric, needle, suture material
(silk and catgut ligatures), lancet, lint (cotton), salt, sodium bicarbonate,
oak bark decoction, laudanum, tincture of white willow bark, and honey.
Nan: Honey! Good for burns?
NAN: Who's your celebrity crush
and why?
SHERI: I cast all my
characters with actors, past or present (appearance only), and have a tiny
crush on each of my heroes. I have a Pinterest page for each book, with
characters, locations, clothing, pets, etc. Frequently, when I describe a
heroine’s dress, I’m describing a real dress I’ve found depicted on some
historical website. Here’s a list of my heroes:
David Scott from A
HERO TO HOLD: Aaron Eckhart
Robb Merrick, Earl of
Cheriton from THE UNSEDUCIBLE EARL: a young Rob Lowe
Jamie Merrick from BY
THE LIGHT OF A CHRISTMAS MOON: Kevin McKidd
Cameron MacKay from
THE SEDUCTION OF CAMERON MACKAY (coming later this year): Daniel Craig
I saved this picture
because I loved the dress and hoped to use it in a book. I did. Charlotte
Haliday wears it on her last day at the office in A HERO TO HOLD.
It wasn’t the kind of dress she’d normally wear to the Patriotic Fund offices, being as she’d ordered it with Rose Cottage in mind. Beribboned bouquets of red roses danced upon a cream-colored skirt. A robin’s egg–blue jacket, trimmed with matching rose fabric and crocheted lace, topped the flouncy skirt. It was a dress made for laughing and kissing, and she hoped David got a look at her in it. It would serve him right. ~ Excerpt from A HERO TO HOLD
Nan: That's a great list of heroes and I love the excerpt!
NAN'S GOTTA ASK: Is there something special
you do (listen to music, go to a special location, etc.) to help you write?
SHERI'S GOTTA ANSWER: I’m pretty analytical, and decided early on that
the human brain should be able to write in any environment. Professional
athletes are expected to think and perform at their top level while thousands
of people watch and yell. I told myself if they could do that, I should be able
to write anywhere, anytime, and using a variety of tools. I acknowledged there
might be a learning curve and told myself to be patient and keep at it.
I’ve written in my car and on planes and trains,
in airports, on boats, a winery tasting room, and a workplace lunchroom. I’ve
used a clipboard and lined notebook paper; I’ve dictated into a digital
recorder while I drive the freeway. I’ve used an iPad, and paper napkins. Some
days it’s slow, others it’s smooth, but I’m always able to produce something
useable. The one thing I find really helps is having the last couple paragraphs
that precede the section I’m working on.
I know lots of writers find music beneficial. I
don’t. I tend to get involved in the music. I have no trouble “tuning out” TV
or environment noise, but I find ignoring a tune I like next to impossible. I
experienced a pretty big learning curve with the digital recorder, but when I
went on a road trip I looked at the journey as an opportunity to become
accustomed to dictating. I’m a big believer in people being able to do what
they believe they can do, and that
was at the center of my decision to write anywhere and anytime.
FIND SHERI :
Contact: sheri@sherihumphreys.com
Website: http://sherihumphreys.com
Twitter: @Sheri_Humphreys
Blogs: Sheri’s Blog
Previous GLIAS INTERVIEW: Click HERE
UP NEXT
Next will be book #2 in the Nightingales series: THE
SEDUCTION OF CAMERON MACKAY.
Nurse Elissa Lockwood meets Crimean War surgeon Cameron
MacKay in a British military hospital in Turkey. When they surrender to a
private moment, Elissa is sent back to England in disgrace. She finds work in
London, and is shocked to discover Cam employed at the same hospital. He’s not
the confident surgeon she knew. He’s drinking, he’s lost his nerve and spirit,
and he’s not performing surgery. Their problems seem insurmountable. They’re
ready to admit they don’t belong together when a man with a soul-consuming
grudge puts both their lives in jeopardy.
Nan: Sounds great!
SHERI WANTS TO KNOW:
How
many sex scenes in a book are too many?
One lucky commenter will win an eCopy or print copy of THE UNSEDUCIBLE EARL once it releases in July. NORTH AMERICA only.
