Two damaged hearts learn there’s a fine line between love and hate in a Wicked Wallflowers novel from USA Today bestselling author Christi Caldwell.
THE BLUESTOCKING by CHRISTI CALDWELL
Series: Wicked Wallflowers #4
Publication date: May 7, 2019
Published by: Montlake Romance
Genre: historical romance
SYNOPSIS
Gertrude, the eldest Killoran sister, has spent a lifetime being underestimated—especially by her own family. She may seem as vulnerable as a kitten, but given the chance, she can be as fierce as a tiger. Her adopted brother, Stephen, has just been snatched back by his true father, and she’ll be damned if she relinquishes the boy to the man reviled throughout London as the Mad Marquess.
Still haunted by a deadly tragedy that left him publicly despised, Lord Edwin holds only hatred for the Killorans—the people he believes kidnapped his son. And not one of them will ever see the boy again. But when Gertrude forces her way into the household and stubbornly insists that she remain as Stephen’s governess, Edwin believes he may have found someone madder than himself.
With every moment he shares with the tenderhearted Gertrude, Edwin’s anger softens into admiration…and more. Is it possible that the woman he loathed may be the only person who can heal his broken soul?
Still haunted by a deadly tragedy that left him publicly despised, Lord Edwin holds only hatred for the Killorans—the people he believes kidnapped his son. And not one of them will ever see the boy again. But when Gertrude forces her way into the household and stubbornly insists that she remain as Stephen’s governess, Edwin believes he may have found someone madder than himself.
With every moment he shares with the tenderhearted Gertrude, Edwin’s anger softens into admiration…and more. Is it possible that the woman he loathed may be the only person who can heal his broken soul?
Purchase your copy now!
Amazon | B&N
Feature: You Might Be a Bluestocking If... with Author Christi Caldwell
EXCERPT
The Bluestocking by Christi Caldwell
In my newest novel, The Bluestocking, Gertrude, the eldest Killoran sister, has spent a lifetime being underestimated—especially by her own family. She may seem as vulnerable as a kitten, but given the chance she can be as fierce as a tiger. Her adopted brother Stephen has just been snatched back by his true father, and she’ll be damned if she relinquishes the boy to the man reviled throughout London as the Mad Marquess.
Still haunted by a deadly tragedy that left him publicly despised, Lord Edwin holds only hatred for the Killorans—the people he believes kidnapped his son. And not one of them will ever see the boy again. But when Gertrude forces her way into the household and stubbornly insists that she remain as Stephen’s governess, Edwin believes he may have found someone madder than himself.
With every moment he shares with the tenderhearted Gertrude, Edwin’s anger softens into admiration . . . and more. It is possible that the woman he loathed may be the only person who can heal his broken soul?
Gertrude was such a wonderful character to write. She’s the eldest of her siblings and firmly on the shelf. She’s incredibly diverse in her strengths and in her interests and in the knowledge she possesses: it’s a knowledge that really is all-encompassing, spanning furniture-making to the care of animals to skills for surviving on the streets. In addition, she’s been responsible for educating the children in her family’s care, and what I found so fascinating is that she knows the value of education and what she’s been providing has been so important, and yet so many have failed to appreciate the power of her contributions.
In honor of Gertrude, an intelligent, interesting, and ultimately irresistible heroine, I have written a short game of "You Might Be A Bluestocking If..." so you can test yourself to see what you have in common with Gertrude.
You might be a bluestocking if...you have more than one cat.
You might be a bluestocking if...your hands are permanently ink stained from your writing.
You might be a bluestocking if...you have an in-depth knowledge of ancient furniture design.
You might be a bluestocking if…you prefer lectures to balls.
You might be a bluestocking if…you would rather have a book in your hands than needlework.
EXCERPT
The Bluestocking by Christi Caldwell
Who was this . . . daughter of Diggory? The one few spoke of and about whom little was known.
Edwin pushed himself away from the door, and folding his arms at his chest, he took slow, predatory steps closer, walking a path around her. His earlier assessment in the darkened foyer of the woman had proven correct. Drab brown hair. Nondescript brown eyes. Of medium height, and in possession of a slender frame that left her cloak hanging unflatteringly upon her, there was nothing extraordinary about the last unwed Killoran. Which was no doubt why she’d not snagged herself a wealthy or powerful husband as her sisters had already done. At his lengthy scrutiny, she dared him with her eyes. And yet for her . . . ordinariness, there was a strength of spirit that radiated, casting a soft blush upon cream-white cheeks, that marked her as . . . interesting. She was interesting. He stopped abruptly. Seeing this woman in any light except the darkened one was a betrayal to his late wife and his children, both living and dead . . . and himself.
“I was clear with my demands. Get out now, Miss Diggory.”
The stubborn chit pursed her slightly too-full lips. “As I said earlier, you were less clear than you give yourself credit for,” she challenged, ignoring the latter part of his directive. My God, she is an insolent bit of baggage. “And my name is Killoran.”
The names were synonymous and interchangeable.
Edwin stopped before her so only a pace divided them. “And tell me, where was I not clear?” he purred. “Was it the part about making sure Broderick Diggory hangs, as he deserves, that was not clear?” The color bled from her cheeks. “Or was it my stated intentions for your sisters . . . what are their names? Ophelia? Cleopatra?” he asked, mocking that Shakespearean queen’s name, and the woman in front of him frowned deeper. “How . . . unfortunate it would be if their business ventures were both to fail.”
The young woman curled and uncurled her coarse hands at her sides. “Do not threaten my family,” she said coolly.
He’d hand it to her. She remained undaunted.
“Or what, Miss Diggory?” A muscle ticked at the corner of her right eye, but she did not rise to the bait, either. “Will you set my townhouse afire and attempt to steal my son . . . again?”
Her features leached even more of their color, leaving those previously blushing cheeks a ghastly grey-white. And for her earlier brave show, it was her turn to falter. “I didn’t . . .” And he celebrated that triumph over his enemy.
“What was that?” he barked, cupping a hand around his ear. “You didn’t what?” Destroy my life? Shatter my family? “Kidnap my son?” he settled for, refusing to voice aloud his greatest agonies before this of all women.
She flinched.
“Now leave, and tell your real brother if he violates our arrangement once more, using you or another one of your . . . sisters or his henchmen to do his work for him, I’ll take you all down.” His in-laws’ earlier recriminations flooded forward. It was just something else they’d been right about.
Edwin had stomped over to his desk when he registered the absolute silence—more specifically, the lack of retreating footfalls.
He turned back.
Miss Diggory jutted her chin up defiantly. “No one sent me, my lord. I am here of my own volition.”
He chuckled, that rusty, ill-used laugh more a growl than anything that could ever be confused with a real expression of mirth. No one came here of their own volition. As a rule, the world avoided him.
Shifting direction, he returned to the stubborn chit’s side, and leaning down, he placed his mouth close to her temple once more and fought the maddening pull of whatever damned perfume she dabbed behind her ears. “Do you think I’m foolish enough all these years later to believe a lie dripping off a Diggory’s lips?”
The young woman’s back moved up and down, an indication of her rapid breath. Of her fear. A lifetime ago, he’d have sooner chopped off his left hand than deliberately taunt a woman and take pleasure in her fear. No longer. That pathetic excuse of a man who’d gotten his wife and babe killed, and the other son snatched, reveled in this woman’s unease. “Hmm?” he prodded, and she jumped.
“I have no reason to lie to you, my lord,” she said calmly, and as she spoke, her breath, containing a whispery trace of honey, filtered from her lips and fanned his mouth. Another unexpectedly sweet scent, at odds with her past and name and sins. It enticed, drawing his gaze to her mouth and holding his focus there, mesmerized. “There is nothing I want, need, or desire.” She darted her tongue out and traced the plump seam of her lips. And God forgive him, his gut clenched. For even as self-loathing spiraled through him, something far worse, far more perilous and viler and more treacherous, held him in its snare: desire. “The only reason I’ve come . . . the only worry I had . . . was for Stephen.”
Stephen.
That single name, spoken aloud, snapped whatever siren’s trap she’d sucked him momentarily into. “August.” Had there ever been a doubt as to his insanity, this quixotic fascination with the woman’s slightly too-full mouth as she spoke was evidence enough of it.
She tipped her head, and one of the few brown strands that had managed a curl bounced at her shoulder.
Edwin flared his nostrils. “His name is August Rudolph Thadeus Stephen Warren, the Earl of Greyley.” He flicked a stare over her face. “You’ve no relation to him. He is His Lordship to you.” Stalking over to the front of the room, he pulled the door open. “Now that you’ve seen him”—he peeled his lip in a mocking sneer—“safely delivered to his rightful home, you are dismissed. You may leave now.”
Gertrude Killoran drew in a breath. “I am afraid I cannot do that.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And whyever not?”
“I’m not leaving.”
“I beg your pardon?” What more could she possibly want or expect of him?
The young woman clasped her palms before her, like a nun at the abbey. “I’m staying.”
Confusion rooted around his mind. “Staying?” he repeated. “Staying where?”
“Here.” She settled her features into a serene expression he’d have believed impossible for a Diggory. “Indefinitely,” she clarified.
Edwin rocked back on his heels.
My God, I’ve finally found someone madder than myself.
Praise for Christi Caldwell:
“Rich characterization and complex themes heighten the drama of this enticing Victorian-era romance by Caldwell.” —Publishers Weekly on The Hellion
"I can't say enough about Christi Caldwell - every time I read one of her books, it's like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day!” —Lady with a Quill
"Fast paced, emotionally charged, intriguing, suspenseful, with mystery, and adventure. Christi Caldwell has a way with her stories that draws readers in and holds them spellbound throughout.”
—My Book Addiction on The Scoundrel’s Honor
"I can't say enough about Christi Caldwell - every time I read one of her books, it's like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day!” —Lady with a Quill
"Fast paced, emotionally charged, intriguing, suspenseful, with mystery, and adventure. Christi Caldwell has a way with her stories that draws readers in and holds them spellbound throughout.”
—My Book Addiction on The Scoundrel’s Honor
GIVEAWAY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
USA Today bestselling, RITA-nominated author Christi Caldwell blames authors Julie Garwood and Judith McNaught for luring her into the world of historical romance. When Christi was at the University of Connecticut, she began writing her own tales of love. She believes that the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections, and she rather enjoys torturing her couples before crafting them a well-deserved happily ever after.
The author of the Wicked Wallflowers series, which includes The Governess, The Hellion, and The Vixen, Christi lives in southern Connecticut, where she spends her time writing, chasing after her son, and taking care of her twin princesses-in-training. Fans who want to keep up with the latest news and information can sign up for Christi’s newsletter at www.ChristiCaldwell.com or follow her on Facebook (AuthorChristiCaldwell) or Twitter (@ChristiCaldwell).
You can find her on:
The Bluestocking by Christi CaldwellMy rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Gertrude is the last sister in the Killoran family to get her book. Although she has always been the most unobtrusive one, the one everyone always seemed to feel was the weakest link in the family, I was eager to read her story. She is a true wallflower in every sense of the word, and she could easily have been the crowning glory in the series. I can be a picky reader. I don't hand out five star ratings very easily, and yet the first three books in the Wicked Wallflowers were enthusiastic five star reads. I can count on one hand the authors that were able to pull that off.
I give Christi Caldwell such huge respect as an author because her character development and storytelling abilities are rare and exceptional. However, Gert and her relationship with Lord Edwin fell short of what they could have delivered. Their combined histories could have given us a lot of emotional dimension and complexities, but unfortunately we didn't delve as deep as I would have liked to have gone which ended up making their romance fall somewhat flat.
This heroine had a lot of great qualities that I admired. She was the most intelligent of the sisters as you'd probably guess by the title. After losing her sight in one eye due to her father's abuse, she was no longer forced to thieve and risk her life on the streets. Instead she escaped into books, and can now quirkily spout an abundance of information on a variety of topics. She's nurturing, observant, and insightful because of how quietly she watches in the background. Less hardened than everyone else, she's able to see the good in people because she'd been shielded from a lot of the depravity that goes on in her world. Yes, she'd had some damaging experiences, but she never lost her optimism or faith in humanity. And finally, she's gentle with her pet menagerie, but tough when the situation demands it with her family. She's a character that's easy to like, and had me laughing quite a bit at her stubborn face-offs with "The Mad Marquess," Lord Edwin.
Gertrude has the patience of a saint for how she holds her own with Edwin, as well as managing Stephen's out of control behavior. Up until the last book? I wanted to shake that kid until his teeth rattled and kick him where the sun doesn't shine. He still has some maturing to do, but he really did redeem himself and show that he's on the path to improvement. I sympathized with him a little more in this book because the poor kid is having his life turned upside down for a second time and doesn't have the capacity to process it adequately. By the end of this book, I can see the man that he could become now that's he's found a safe and loving home back where he belongs. His anger and resentment had really softened and I'm really hoping I get to see him find his HEA...in The Spitfire perhaps?
Lord Edwin is far from insane as society has labeled him since the destruction of his family. He is wracked with crippling grief and pain. He's reclusive, angry, and bitterly blames himself for not trusting his instincts and failing to protect his pregnant wife and son. It didn't help that his in-laws made him the scapegoat and encouraged public belief that he was at fault and unstable. I did feel for the poor man, but my problem with his character was that his hatred for Gertrude was too quickly overcome, and his attraction and love grew almost instantly. It did not feel entirely realistic that he came to believe he loved her after 10 short days because of their complicated history. Instead of feeling angsty, their interactions felt rushed and even awkward at times.
Another issue that started to bother me was that I was being told excessively through Gertrude's POV how Stephen can't stand his father, her family played a part in stealing his son from him, and how he hated her family and would never get over it. She kept reiterating over and over that father and son were strangers and the repetition was not necessary. I would rather have been shown through their actions/conversations how distant they are and see their relationship grow organically.
I didn't dislike any of the characters, and in general I still enjoyed seeing Gertrude finally owning more assertiveness and finding someone who believed in her. I liked seeing the fragile trust between father and son develop and Edwin shedding the blame that he'd accepted unfairly for so many years. While the romance felt rushed for my taste, many others didn't feel the love leaned on the "insta" side. Like all of Caldwell's books I've read, this was very fast-paced, easy to stay engaged with, and comforting to slip in more page time in the world she's created. I'm crossing my fingers that the next book gives us Stephen's ultimate HEA with a heroine that can properly bring him to his knees.
FOLLOW SMOKIN HOT BOOK BLOG ON:
0 komentarze:
Post a Comment