Welcome to special guest: Jean Hart Stewart

I'm hosting Jean Hart Stewart today as part of her tour with Goddess Fish Promotions. I've been following her tour because her posts have all being fabulously interesting, from information about Napoleon's hemorrhoids (and how they might have changed history) to her grandmother's superstitions. So much fun!

So, today give a warm welcome to Jean (and leave a comment because one lucky person will win a "The Third Rose" T-shirt from Jean and it's a GREAT cover).

Tell us five things we don’t know about you, and probably wouldn't guess.

Which five can I divulge with some impunity? Most people are far from open books. Most don’t even know themselves. Oh well, here are five earthshaking revelations.

One, I come across as natural and friendly. The friendly is fine, I love people, but the natural is not. I’m shyer than a hedgehog. Took years for me to learn not to cringe when somebody, even a stranger, got cross at me. I remember when we were first married I came home and cried because the bus driver had yelled at me. My husband couldn’t believe I let such a minor thing bother me. I think it was the first time he realized he’d married a wimp.

Two, I’m more superstitious than I let on. Learned most of them from my grandmother. Try to cover it up actually, because the rational me knows it doesn’t make sense and I’m married to a scientist who’d think I was crazy if he knew. This one is important! Never give anybody a purse or wallet as a gift without enclosing a coin, even if it’s only a penny. And always pick up a lost coin on the ground. You’ll end up poor if you don’t. Didn’t know that? You’d better pick up that dirty coin next time you see one.

And three, I have the strange habit of regarding some inanimate objects as being sensitive. Do you ever worry about the feelings of piece of china? You don’t want to play favorites with your coffee cups, do you? I definitely think animals have feelings and won’t wear fur. Whoa, I’m starting to sound nutty even to myself!

Four, I adore peanut butter and cabbage sandwiches. I learned to like them as a child when we had little money. My mother thought that inexpensive treat had all the ingredients need for health. Still love them. That crunchy cabbage and lots of peanut butter! So far I’ve never met anybody else who’s even heard of them. Oh yes, the cabbage should be about a quarter of an inch thick, sliced horizontally. Not just a leaf.

Five. I go around constantly with a song in my head. Sometimes I can’t get it out for weeks at a time, and then only by hearing another tune that takes over. Have found out from some of my chat talks this isn’t at all unusual and there’s even a scientific name for it. I think something like thirty percent of the people do this. Not bad, except when the tune gets monotonous. Listening to music is really kinda nice. Right now? I’m stuck on ‘You Light up my Life’. Been about a week on this one.

Fill In the Blank(s): ______ in ______ not the ______.

I like to know the person inside. not the face you present to the world.

Write me a paragraph using the following three words. STRIPED, RASPBERRY, DRIVING

The raspberry riding costume was the most garish outfit she’d ever worn. Why on earth she’d ordered it was a mystery. Usually she stuck with more conservative colors, and it certainly didn’t go with her red hair. At least her dressmaker had followed her instructions. To make it worse, she’d chosen a striped black and white scarf to tie back her hair, instead of her usual hat. She looked like a whore, not a lady. She tossed her head and stalked to the stables to get her horse. No more driving in a carriage and being a lady. She’d not force herself to do anything she didn’t want to do. She’d do damned well as she pleased from now on.

You can find Jean at her website. But first -- read the blurb for what promises to be a very exciting story:

When Sara Coverly hides in Lord Wolverton’s bedroom to avenge him for the rape of her friend, she is determined to shoot him so he can never ruin another female. Instead she finds herself wondering if she’s picked the wrong man! Wolf decides he needs a token fiancée to cover his tracks as he searches for a spy, and soon Sara finds herself helping him. And falling deeply in love.

Wolf’s espionage duties bring danger to them both. When he decodes a message threatening the assassination of Wellington at Waterloo, they both set out for Brussels to catch the villain.

Can their growing love endure through war, a desperate villain who is out to stop them, and Wolf’s determination to save Wellington at any cost?

Want more? How about an excerpt?

At last. The bastard had come home. He must have lit more candles, as the room became brighter. She could see a large man, elegantly dressed, stride across the room. Double drat! He moved out of her vision, and she did not dare part the draperies any further. She waited, breath suspended, as he re-appeared and sat on the bed. He arched one long muscled leg, bending over to tug at his boot. His face was in shadow, but his build was powerful, that of a more than adequate sportsman. His size didn’t worry her. A gun was a great equalizer.

He meant to take his boots off himself? She was surprised he didn’t require his valet to wait up for him. An unusual bit of consideration for a servant, one she’d not expected. She’d thought she’d have to stay hidden until the valet had come and gone. Perhaps this was better, since at least he was decently clothed. Not that she’d let any missish tendencies deter her. Actually seeing a large nude male might be educational.

Now was the time.

She cocked the gun and stepped out in front of him, the barrel pointed directly at him.

“You will please rise, my lord. I do not intend to shoot a seated villain.” She felt pride in the composure of her voice. She’d worried a little about that.

Wolverton did not appear unduly upset, although his eyebrows arched upward. He bent the long leg stretched on the bed and clasped both hands around his knee.

“A woman. How interesting. I admit you make a very fetching young man dressed in those breeches, but your voice is definitely female. Might I inquire why you have your gun pointed at me?”

She had to give him his due. His tone seemed as cool as hers, and she certainly must have been a nasty surprise. Although come to think of it, he probably often found women accosting him in his bedchamber. But surely for more pleasurable purposes, cad that he was.

“Stand up, my lord.”

Neither her voice nor the hand holding the gun on him wavered, as Joshua Sinclair, Earl of Wolverton, slowly placed both his boots on the luxurious Aubusson carpet and rose to his feet.

“Is there anything I can do for you, madam?” he inquired, as politely as if he were asking her if she took milk with her tea.

She shook her head slowly, carefully lowering the gun a trifle. What a shame he was such a handsome devil, but then she should have expected no less from a despoiler of virgins.

She was pleased to see him blanch a little as he realized where she aimed.

“Can I persuade you to raise your gun a little? I don’t mind being shot in the chest nearly as much as if you hit the most valued part of my anatomy.”