Thank you, Anne. I’m very happy to be here.
What inspired you to write this novel?
Once I found historical romance novels, I couldn’t put a book down. I fell in love with the characters and needed to know their happy ending. I would have liked to live in the Regency time period. Dashing Lords and pirates seem so romantic. I had all these ideas running through my head and one day I just put words to paper. The more I wrote the more I became involved with the characters, and they seemed to take a life of their own. I love pirates!
When did you start writing this book? How long did it take you?
Fifteen years. Once I wrote my story, life got in the way. Husband, kids, job—I put my story on a shelf. Fifteen years later, I got it down, joined RWA and finished my MS. WOW! So glad you grabbed it off the shelf! I know what it is like: husband, kids, job. Finding time to write can be tough. RWA is a great place to be:)
Are your characters or plots based on anyone or experiences in real life? Or are they completely fictitious?
My characters are fictitious. However, I do a lot of research for the time period to be as accurate as I can be. I have taken real life experiences to achieve the emotion for my characters.
If you stepped into your hero/heroine’s shoes, would you react the same way they did to adversity?
Oh yes. Don’t we always try to warn the hero/heroine, say we would do things differently? I’d love to live in the Regency or Southern Bell time period. In my stories I try to do the unexpected, make my heroine stronger. And I think to myself—how would I react? So I play the scene out and that’s what my character does.
What are your feelings about sequels? Is this a possibility for your novel?
I love recognizing a character from another book. So The Right One is the first of three in “The One and Only Series.”
Are you a full time writer? If not, what fills your day?
I have a full time J O B. But I’m retiring this year and can not wait. I don’t have to tell any writer how difficult it is to find time to put words to paper, let alone create them in your mind. I’m so proud I finally managed to finish a novel and now it is being published. Looking forward to the day I may spend more time on my writing. Congratulations on both retirement and your published novel!
What genre do you like to read the most? Why?
Historical. I would have liked to live in the Regency time period. Dashing Lords and pirates seem so romantic. Historical romance has always been my favorite, but I love a some of the Harlequin and Silloute romances for a quick read.
When you pick up a book at the store or library, what makes you select it? What makes you put it down?
The cover and the blurb. I have favorite authors, so I usually go to see what books they have out. Not too long ago, I’m in a book store looking at the covers wanting to try a new author. I see the face of a hunk on a book cover and immediately bought that book. Yep, ladies. A book cover can make a difference. I’m reading Anna Campbell and – I was hooked! I went back and bought her other two books (which was all she’d written at that time.) An awesome cover always sells books! And yours is very impressive!
When I pick up a book, I scan a paragraph or two. If it catches my attention, I buy it. I always check the inside cover page for an excerpt. If it doesn’t have one, I usually put it back.
What are you most proud of about your writing?
That I never stopped. I get a lot of joy from creating new characters and bringing them together in a romantic tale. It took years of putting words on paper, joining RWA, joining other chapters, entering contests, submissions, rejections. Every one of these things created the author I am today. Keeping my spirit and turning criticism into drive. My hard word has paid off and I have two books being released this month.
Twice the Fun! Congratulations Again!
Time for some Fast & Furious questions:
Favorite Ice Cream? Vanilla
Favorite Song or Band? James Taylor
Favorite Super Hero? Iron Man
Favorite Princess? Bell/ Beauty & Beast
Favorite flavor of lip balm? Strawberry
Food you can’t stand? FISH
What annoys you? Shopping carts in parking lots
Jeans or Sweatpants? Jeans
The day is not complete without… Does not begin without Coffee
One Word that best describes yourself… Friendly
Here’s a little info on Samanthya Wyatt---
Samanthya Wyatt loves a good romance story. Ideas were persistently running through her head, so she began writing in hopes to one day see her own book sitting on a shelf.
Samanthya lives with her husband in the Shenandoah Valley. She left her accounting career and married a military man traveling and raising her children in the United States and abroad. Samanthya loves a good book, a good joke, and her playful, witty husband. She enjoys long walks on the beach, and adores her grandchildren.
Although historical is her first love, she appreciates contemporary romance and enjoys penning a story with strong characters, a bit of humor, and active scenes. She invites you to lay the worries of the world off your shoulders and get lost in the pages of a romance, where you embark on a journey with the hero and heroine, become involved in a dream, plunge into a world of fantasy, and live an adventure your heart can share.
Speaking of back covers...here is what the back cover of The Right One looks like:
He abducts the wrong woman . . . she proves she is the right one.
Morgan Bartholomew Langston, Earl of Whetherford, has finally decided to accept his fate. Tired of dangerous assignments and putting his neck on the line, he has returned to his ancestral home to accept the title of his birthright and produce the required heir. But, when he arrives, he finds his home has been invaded and a female has taken off with his mother’s jewels. Morgan decides the traitorous jade will not get away, so he sets into motion a plan to bring her back. When he abducts the wrong woman, his reaction to her brings him dangerously close to breaking his vow of forbidden emotions.
Katherine Elizabeth Radbourn is a strong, independent woman and at the age of twenty three, is still unwed. In a desperate attempt to find her brother, she is abducted which leads her on a journey to love and mistaken identity. Once she meets her captor, fear and indignation dissipates to an overwhelming awareness. Even though he tells her she is the wrong one, Kat realizes she has finally met a man that – not only she is attracted to – but has awakened her woman’s body. Does he really care for her or does he secretly yearn for the woman she is supposed to be? Uncertainty makes her risk the very man she has given her soul.
Now sit back and enjoy an excerpt from The Right One!
Kat had been summoned. He had requested her presence, not demanded. Beckoned, as if she were an invited guest. The irony of it all.
Her stomach was tied in knots—had been ever since she received his invitation. She tried to slow her breathing. She swallowed, but the lump that lodged from her throat to the center of her chest never moved. Her head throbbed. The pulse in her temples pounded with every beat of her heart. So loud in volume, she feared surely someone could hear it. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the blond man’s smirk, which was becoming all too familiar. He waited for her to enter the lion’s den. She faced the huge solid oak door, the only thing between her and her impending fate.
The vein in her neck throbbed. If she didn’t calm down, she would be at his mercy. And that would never do. She could not allow him to know how defenseless she believed herself to be.
Lord Whetherford should have absolved her by now. If he was any kind of a gentleman, he would have set her free. She hesitated another moment outside the door. He was at fault—not her. She would demand to be released at once. Her body as taut as a tightly-drawn corset, she knocked on the wooden door.
Hearing his utterance, Kat smoothed her hands down the sides of her gown and squared her shoulders. Knowing Hathridge studied her, she summoned the courage to enter with a confident determination she did not feel.
She opened the study door.
He stood by the window, facing the sunlight, his back to her. A large, dark, muscular man, in all his finery, with broad shoulders and a commanding stance. Inky black waves hung thick and unruly. Tresses just long enough to curl over the neck of a white shirt peaking from the collar of his black suit coat. This man stood as tall as her brother, and Stephen loomed well over six feet. Even from the back, his broadness showed plenty of muscle. Remembering his fight with the ruffians made her sigh, marveling at the instant craving that pierced her torso.
The latch of the closing door generated a spike in her already rapid pulse. No chance to flee since Hathridge, quite possibly, barred the door. She lifted her chin and forced her arms by her side. Not knowing what to say, or if he expected her to say anything at all, she waited. He remained motionless, taking his darn sweet time to acknowledge her presence. Why didn’t he turn around? Why did he ignore her? The silence drew out so long she thought her unsteady legs would not hold her much longer.
Finally, he spoke. “Would you like a drink, my dear?
She had forgotten the low deep timbre of his voice. The rich baritone sent surges of awareness down her spine. An unexpected, distinct wakefulness. She resisted the urge to clasp her hands and entwine her worrisome fingers. Kat answered in a voice she hoped would not crack. “No, thank you.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin when he whirled around like the lash of a whip. He didn’t speak. He stood like stone, the same as she. Smoldering dark eyes seized hers in a heated, locked gaze, drowning her in their penetrating force. She had not been prepared for the dark threatening expression—threatening in the way that she felt something move within her.
Time stood still.
Nothing else in the room existed but the two of them. His hypnotic pull seared her, sending a tingling sensation beginning in her stomach, then flowing down the back of her knees and extending through her limbs making it impossible to move.
Her throat tightened.
If those eyes could shoot fire, they would sear holes right through her. But the expression on his face . . . he looked like he’d just had a good kick in the teeth.
Morgan felt as though someone had just punched him in the gut—hard. His breath caught at the sight of the stunning creature before him. Lost in amazing green eyes—adrift in their sparkling jade and mystique sensuality. He scanned her high cheekbones with soft creamy skin, and let his gaze slide down to fasten on luscious lips. Suddenly his mouth was dry
A cloud of vibrant red hair floated around her shoulders—like the brightest sunset at the end of a day, resting on the shimmering ocean. Luxuriant masses of thick curls inviting a man’s hands. He flexed his to keep from reaching for her. The movement reminded him of the snifter in his palm, which brought him some sense of stability.
He took in her exquisite form, stared at the more-than-generous swell of bosom, letting his heated gaze linger there. A notion popped in the back of his mind telling him to breathe. He tightened his jaw to make sure his mouth did not hang open. His hungry eyes moved lower, perceiving a slim waist before the folds of her gown hid the rest. He swore under his breath. She is exquisite.
She stood straight and tall with her chin at an angle in challenge. Even with that rod in her backbone, he sensed her vulnerability. A pang of concern struck his chest.
“You,” he whispered. What the hell is she doing here?
An explosion went off in his brain. Holy Mother of God! Those fools. They must have brought her here thinking she was Juliana.
Blood and the devil!
Morgan’s heart kicked and landed somewhere in the bottom of his gut. Choking on the words for this unsettling circumstance, he compelled himself to speak hoping his voice would not betray him. “I owe you my profound apology. There has been a horrendous mistake, madam. And I fear that I have made it.”
Those beautiful eyes blinked. She stared at him as though someone had taken over her senses. Was this woman a simpleton?
He hurried to the sideboard. Even though she could quite possibly be in shock, he ignored the stronger spirits and poured a generous amount of sherry. He didn’t want to knock her on her bum, just bring some color back in her face. He strode back to the unknown beauty and placed the flute in her hand.
Changes came over her face. Stupor—awe—surprise—and . . . anger. Although Morgan was not a patient man, he waited.
Her eyes flamed with fire. “Did I hear you correctly? Mistake?”
Morgan stopped the oath before it left his mouth. “Yes. I believe your being here is a mistake.”
“A mistake.” She echoed with a stupefied look, unseeing the crystal she held in her hand. “That’s what I thought you said.”
She raised the glass and downed the liquid in one swift movement. Tears came to her eyes as she tried not to cough. She marched to the side table and he feared she planned to get more. Instead she set the glass on the table top. When she faced him, her hands were fisted and the fire in her eyes burned brighter than the flames in the hearth.
“Mistake?” she snapped. “I was kidnapped! I have been a prisoner in your home. Forced to come here and forced to remain. I’ve been scared out of my mind. Every day I worried if you still lived. I agonized over what would become of me if you died. Then I walk in here and you have the audacious daring to tell me it was a mistake?”
Here’s how you can contact Samanthya Wyatt
Thanks again, Samanthya for joining me here today!
Thank you Anne, for helping me celebrate my new book.
Buy links: Click on the blue box below to check out The Right One o