>Over the last several months, I’ve widened my networking circle in the romance author world, and I’ve been delighted to meet so many new and lovely writers. One of those is Katharine Ashe. The two of us work in similar environments on our day jobs, so we’ve commiserated with one another on occasion. Now that I’ve read her bio, she doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll be asking research questions!! LOL
Katharine’s a kind, sympathetic soul, and I’m delighted that she’s here today to talk about her books. I’d also like to point out that Katharine’s current release is part of Avon’s K.I.S.S. and Teal releases this month in support of National Ovarian Cancer Awareness month.
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I adore forbidden love stories. Adore. Despite its horridly tragic ending, Romeo and Juliet is one of my favorite love stories of all time.
This does not make me a glutton for emotional punishment. I am — as I think you may be — quite comfortably addicted to Happily Ever Afters.
But I’m also addicted to first love. New love. Love so intense, so powerful, pure and hot that it will not be quenched. Not even by others that seek to tear the lovers apart. This is why I cannot get enough of young Romeo and his Juliet. Their love defies hatreds and fears. They meet, they woo, they fall, and they love so swiftly, so intensely that every single time I watch it, it’s impossible for me to remain aloof. It doesn’t matter that I know (have known since ninth grade!) that their story ends terribly. I am swept up each and every time they tumble into love. Not tumble. Throw themselves into love.
And I think I know why I adore their story so much. It is because their love is honest. Full of all the confidence yet giddy uncertainty of adolescence, they practically hurl themselves at one another emotionally. In their hearts whisper every fear that we all have of being rejected. But need and desire and hunger clamor louder, drowning out everything else, and they allow themselves to fall into perfect, delectably dangerous bliss.
It’s heady stuff.
She had never forgotten him…
Miss Octavia Pierce is witty, well off, and shockingly unwed. Still, she is far too successful in society to remain on the shelf forever, and her family has hopes that Octavia will finally make the perfect match. What they do not know is that years earlier Octavia was scandalously tempted by the one man capable of sweeping her off her feet—the man now known as the Marquess of Doreé.
A third son, never meant to inherit, Lord Ben Doreé has abandoned his past and grown accustomed to his illustrious new position of wealth and power. But he has never forgotten Octavia, and now she desperately needs his help in a most dangerous, clandestine matter. Although she claims she has put the memories of the passion they shared behind her, Ben is determined to once again have her in his arms—and in his bed.
Still think I’m a glutton for emotional punishment?
All right then, what if a young love of that sort of intensity didn’t have to end tragically? What if a girl just upon the verge of womanhood and a youth just become a man meet, despite the barriers that society erects to keep them apart? Then what if they fall? What if they tumble headlong into first love… passionate love… forbidden love… only to be rent asunder?
(You’d say, “I’ve heard this story before.” And I’d reply, “But the story doesn’t end there.” Because I am, after all, addicted to Happily Ever Afters.)
What if, when they meet again seven eternal years later, they are still in love? And what if this time, no matter the dangers and forces pulling them apart, they will not be denied their greatest desire?
That’s the sort of forbidden love story I adore most. The sort that triumphs because the love is so powerful nothing can stop it. So that is the story in my latest Regency historical romance, IN THE ARMS OF A MARQUESS.
If you could rewrite the ending of any tragic love story of yore, how would you do it? Would Romeo not drink that poison? Would Rhett not walk out that door?