Today I’m happy to welcome Marin McGinnis with her latest release Tempting Mr. Jordan. Congratulations, Marin!
Thanks for having me today, Barb!
Could you tell us a little about Mr. Jordan?
Love to. Here’s the BLURB:
After four unsuccessful London seasons, Lady Julia Tenwick despairs of ever making a love match. With spinsterhood looming on the horizon, she and a friend set sail for America on one last adventure. When her travels take her to northern Maine, Julia meets a reclusive but handsome artist, whose rudeness masks a broken heart Julia feels compelled to mend.
Still haunted by the betrayal and death of his pregnant wife two years before, Geoffrey Jordan is determined never to risk his heart again. Certainly not with the gorgeous and impetuous aristocrat who intrudes upon his small-town solitude, and is far too similar to his late wife to tempt him to take another chance on love.
But when Julia and Geoffrey find themselves united in a reckless plan to save Julia’s friend from ruin, they discover that temptation is impossible to resist.
Is this your first book? What others have you published?
I’ve published two other books featuring the Tenwick family with Wild Rose Press—Stirring Up the Viscount and Secret Promise.
What draws you to this genre?
I love the Victorian era, because although it had many of the social constructs of the Regency era, it was a time of great change. Train travel, packaged food, ready-to-wear clothes, increased understanding of the larger world, scientific advancements, the emergence of a middle class and women’s rights--all of this and much more happened during the Victorian era. It’s a lot of fun to write about.
Was any character particularly stubborn in cooperating with you during the writing process?
My characters are always stubborn—they will persist in doing things their own way!
If you had to describe this book as a color, what would that color be?
What a fabulous question! Where I thought of my first book in muted pastels and the second in dark, earthy tones, this one is bright. Oranges, yellows, reds of a sunrise, and the bright blue sky of a cold winter’s day.
I don’t have a special place, particularly. I have a home office, but it’s usually a mess--I’m a total slob—so it’s sometimes hard to focus. I get a fair amount done at the hockey rink while my son is practicing.
Challenges with finding writing time?
The thing I noticed this year is that I have plenty of writing time, should I choose to write. My bigger problem is that I’m lazy--writing is work, even when it’s fun, and sometimes it’s far easier to do something else, like watch Netflix. J
What’s your next project?
I have two books I’m finishing up now. Both are set in England in the 1850s, and there’s a mystery component to each. After that, I’m planning to take a stab at a cozy mystery set around the same time.
What one tip would you offer writers?
Butt in chair, fingers on keyboard. Seriously. I should take this advice more often.
But in addition to that, there’s a ton of information out there to help turn you into a better writer. Most of it is free or low cost and you can learn at your own pace within the comfort of your home. Join a local writers group if you can—it’s wonderful to hang out with other people who hear voices in their heads, and they can understand and inspire you like no one else in your life. Check out RWA.org, SavvyAuthors.com, SistersinCrime.com for more.
Thanks so much for being here today. I hope you’ll come back again.
Thanks for having me. I had fun!
Oh, but before you go, please share an excerpt!
Of Course! Here you are.
Cranberry Cove reminded Julia of home, her family’s estate in Durham, where ton rules were abandoned in favor of lazy days riding, reading, caring for her pets, or playing the piano. It occurred to her that she had not played in weeks. Her fingers itched to touch a keyboard, and she flexed her hands inside her calfskin gloves. She vowed to play soon. She thought she had seen a harpsichord in the drawing room of Maria’s enormous house.
Reaching the end of the little lane on which Maria lived, she took a right onto Main Street. It consisted of several houses similar to the one in which she was staying, so she turned left onto Maple Street, which was much more interesting. There was a green grocer, a bookseller, a milliner, a tailor, a blacksmith—everything one could want in a village. The streets were clean—much cleaner than London—and the air was crisp and fresh, even if it smelled ever so slightly of fish.
Julia was staring into the newspaper office—a badly written but oddly gripping tale about missing lobster traps was plastered to the window—when she was nearly knocked off her feet.
“Oh, I beg your pardon!” She managed to right herself, wondering why she should be the one to apologize. She looked up into the hooded eyes of Geoffrey Jordan, who held a book in one hand. “Mr. Jordan!”
“Lady Julia.” He reached out to steady her, the touch of his hand on her arm causing a charge to shoot up her spine. “Please forgive me. Are you hurt?”
“Are you in the habit of running over tourists on your streets?” She freed her arm, flustered by her own reaction, and busied herself with adjusting her hat. When she regarded Mr. Jordan again, he was smirking.
“No, just the ones who stop in the middle of the street,” he said.
Julia opened her mouth to retort, but he held up a finger to silence her. “Nevertheless, I am sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. And the scintillating prose of our local newspaper could halt anyone in her tracks.”
She laughed. “It is not The Times, to be sure.”
His lips quirked up at the tips in something approaching a smile. Julia thought she hadn’t seen him do that before and found it oddly entrancing. “Where are you headed, Lady Julia?”
She forced herself to look away from his lips. “Um. Nowhere in particular. I was in need of a walk after luncheon, so I thought I would explore a bit.”
“The Universalist church, just around the corner, is particularly beautiful, and you will need to sample lobster from the establishment run by the Maclays, on the pier. It will melt in your mouth.”
The way he looked at her as he made the remark made her own mouth dry. Her cheeks burned.
“Um. Yes. That sounds lovely.” She gazed down at her feet until she collected herself. Raising her head, she found herself caught in his sights. She swallowed nervously. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Jordan, I really must get back. Constance will be wondering where I’ve got to.” She brushed past him, her shoulder tingling at the contact with his arm.
“Lady Julia?” His tone was vaguely amused.
She stopped and turned to face him. “Yes, Mr. Jordan?”
His thin lips turned up at the corners again, and he pointed behind him. “I believe your house is that way.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She willed herself not to stumble as she passed him, at least not until she’d cleared the corner.
A northeast Ohio native, Marin McGinnis has been a voracious reader ever since she could make sense of words on the page. She’s dabbled with writing for a long time, but didn’t start writing in earnest until she discovered historical romance about a decade ago. Marin has three historical romance titles published with The Wild Rose Press, and is a member of RWA and its Northeast Ohio, Hearts Through History, and Kiss of Death chapters. She will serve as President of the Northeast Ohio RWA chapter in 2017. Marin lives in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, in a drafty 100 year old house with her husband, son, and two standard poodles named Larry and Sneaky Pete.
You can find Marin here:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarinMcGinnis (@MarinMcGinnis)