Hiya
folks, so glad you could stop by. My friend, Jillian Chantal has embraced the
mania today to tell us a bit about herself and her title SEBASTIAN'S SALVATION.
And she's brought along a free copy for one lucky commenter. So without further ado, help me welcome the lovely and talented Jillian
Chantal.
Hi
there, Jill. Thanks so much for visiting today. What was the germ of the idea
behind Sebastian's Salvation?
I
wanted to write a story with a less than perfect-bodied hero. I also wanted to
write an interracial relationship. I combined both in Sebastian's Salvation.
I'm
impressed. Writing can be difficult enough without adding extra challenges.
What is the first book you remember loving?
A
tome of The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes. I learned to read at an early age
and was reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle by the 3rd grade. I carried
that book everywhere.
Holy
cow! 3rd grade? I guess you've always been an overachiever. So, where is the
oddest place you’ve ever pulled out a book?
Good
question and I really don't know an answer to this one. I read in all the
normal places, like the loo and airplanes but I'm also very social so I can't
see myself pulling out a book at a college football game like someone I know
did.
Ahem. I’m not going to say anything, other than, I
love that you say loo! That’s so European! Anyhoo … Most authors begin writing
because they love to read. Is this true of you and if so, did you write your
first book because you were inspired, or because you thought, hell, I can do
better than this?
None
of the above. LOL. I wrote a lot as a pre-teen and teen. Then I went to college
and law school and other things took precedence. I returned to writing as a way
to decompress from a high-stress job as a lawyer. I found writing fiction
helped my active mind wind down and kept me from fretting about the next case.
Yep,
overachiever. I feel so unworthy! Okay, besides a critiquing partner, is there
someone you let read your ms before submitting?
I
have a beta reader who I have do a read through of the story to see if there
are plot holes or if it doesn't hold together. She's super and a big
reader.
Hmmm.
I need to get me one of those. Which of the characters you’ve written most
resembles you, and why?
I've
only ever written one lawyer heroine and she is definitely a part of me. My
paralegal read the story and said she could totally hear me saying some of the
things Evangeline says. This story is not out yet but is being shopped right
now. It's a romantic suspense on an international scale.
That's
so cool! I've never written myself into a character. Can you say booooring?
What is one thing your readers would be surprised to learn about you?
I
have a great sense of adventure. I love, love roller coasters and I have been
skydiving. It's a super experience.
Oh
gosh. I'm with you on the roller coasters, just did my first free hanging one
last week in fact. But skydiving? I would hold your coat for you ... on the
ground. You're nuts! Tell us a bit about Sebastian's Salvation?
Blurb:
Three
lives intertwine—a former Green Beret, now a painter of nude portraits tormented
by the death of his comrade, an earl’s daughter, and a crazed stalker. Will the
acts of the stalker force the soldier back into the life of violence which he
sought to avoid?
Sebastian
Hughes, wounded on a mission in Afghanistan, discovers a talent for painting
nude portraits while in a rehabilitation center learning to walk again after
losing part of his leg. He becomes the toast of London society and women clamor
to be painted by him.
Lady
Joanna Gresham, nursing a broken heart and used to getting what she wants, sets
her sights on having her portrait painted by Sebastian. Once she meets him, she
wants him for herself. She pursues him, intent on winning him. What she didn’t
count on was a stalker who wants to harm everyone Sebastian holds dear.
Excerpt:
Joanna Gresham passed Margaret in the
hallway of Bast’s building. Margaret carried a saddle under her arm.
Margaret stopped her and hitched the
saddle to a more comfortable position. “You one of the many?”
“Many what?”
“Clients of Bast’s?”
Joanna shook her head. “No. But I’m
thinking about it. I was at his show last night and am very impressed.”
“With the man or the artist?” The woman
smiled coyly
“The artist of course.” Joanna stood
tall and looked down her nose at the impertinent woman. The nerve to ask me
such a thing. As if I’d be interested in a hoodlum.
“Don’t have to get huffy, Lady Joanna.
All the women in town are swooning over the man. Some are even commissioning
portraits just to tempt him with their bodies. No harm meant.”
Joanna ran her hands through her hair.
“Sorry. Just moody, I guess.”
“No problem. Enjoy your session.”
“I don’t have a session. I’m just going
to talk.”
“Good luck then. I think you’ll like
Bast. I gotta go. Late for a practice run.”
“Good luck with practice. Ta, Margaret.”
Joanna waved good-bye and approached the door to Bast’s atelier. Why am I so
nervous? He’s just a man I want to hire. Why should I feel so skittish?
Joanna knocked lightly on the door.
The door burst open, and the man asked,
“What did you for—”
He stopped short. “Uh. Sorry, I thought
you were Margaret, come back for something she forgot. She always leaves
something behind.”
“Is that why you were already at the
door?”
He smiled. “Yeah. I give her about three
minutes after she leaves to come dashing back. I thought I timed it right.” His
smile got larger.
Why does his smile have to be so
spectacular? He’s gorgeous even with that scar across his face. “Sorry, it’s just me. I’m not sure if
you remember—”
“Of course, I do. You’re the lady in the
alley, the one that needed no help with her aching feet. Come on in.” He opened
the door wider to allow her access to the loft.
Once they were inside, he showed her
over to a client chair. He took a seat behind the desk, leaned across the top,
and asked, “What can I do for you?”
She put one hand on the desktop and
scraped her nail across the surface. “I was at your show last night—”
“Yeah, I know. I saw you, remember?”
“I recall.” She frowned. Was the man
determined to make her feel stupid?
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to
interrupt you. Go on.” Bast nodded his encouragement.
“I was thinking I might want a portrait
of myself. Your work is impressive. Very tasteful. I know it seems like I’m
just jumping on a trend, but I really am in awe of your abilities.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it. I’m
a little full right now. The show last night garnered me a lot of commissions,
and I’m afraid I don’t have time to add one more person to my schedule. I’ll be
glad to put you on the waiting list.” He pulled a pad out of his top drawer.
She stood, and the chair teetered and
fell back against the wall. “I know what you’re doing. You jerk.”
He leaned back in his chair and looked
at her. His face showed no emotion. “What’s your problem, Lady?”
“Lady? You say it that way
because you know who I am? You think you can be a sarcastic bastard to me?”
“Ma’am, you came in here, didn’t
introduce yourself to me, and now you’re offended? I can’t figure that
out. All I said was I have to put you on my waiting list. How you think that’s
something offensive, I don’t know.” He sat forward in the chair.
She glared. “I’m Lady Joanna Gresham. I
don’t do waiting lists.”
He stood up and walked around the desk
to her. He got in her face and said, “I don’t do snobby Ladies. So, I
suggest you get out of my studio.”
Joanna pushed his chest. “I just bet
you don’t do ladies.” She looked around and took in the whole room and nodded
toward the fainting couch under the window. “I bet you do the ladies
right over there.”
Enraged, he grabbed her arms and shoved
her against the wall. He pressed against her. “If I wanted to do a lady, I’d do
her right here against this wall.” He lifted her off her feet as if she was no
larger than a toy doll and pulled her over to the other client chair. He sat in
it and pulled her on top of himself. “Or here in this chair.”
She jerked off his lap and stumbled
backward. “How dare you touch me, you arrogant—”
“What? Black bastard? Is that what you
want to call me, your white holiness? Lady Joanna Gresham that doesn’t do
waiting lists? Huh? Huh? That what you want to say?” He stood up.
She continued to back up. “You’re crazy.
You know that? You’re insane.”
He stalked toward her. “And you’re all
alone here with me. A crazy, scar-faced, big black man who isn’t intimidated by
a title. Now, what are you gonna do?”
“I’m leaving.” She flounced toward the
door.
Just as she got to the door and opened
it, he slammed his hand on it and shut it. His body leaned against hers. He
pressed against her and whispered, “I bet you always leave. When the going gets
tough and you don’t get your way, you leave. Right?”
He let go of the door and stepped back.
“Thank you for coming by, ma’am. I’ll be sure to not add you to the
waiting list.”
She jerked the door open and left.
Mmmm. Sounds
like a couple of handfulls. That always makes for a fun read in my book. Thanks
so much for visiting, Jillian. Before you go, where can we find you? And
Sebastian’s Salvation?
Don't forget to leave your email address so Jillian can contact you in case you are her winner today.
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