Welcome back, Judith! Always my pleasure to host you! Tell us a bit about your lastest book, Night of the Owl, in the Novels of Ravenwood series.
A woman outside of her time. A man ahead of his.
PhD student Ardyth Nightshade has renounced men and pursues her twentieth-century career with single-minded focus. When fate whisks her to medieval England, she meets her match in a man whose passions mirror her own. Can she sacrifice ambition for a love she never sought?
Hugh, Lord Seacrest confounds all who know him. He refuses to marry without a meeting of minds and hearts, and no lady has even approached his ideal…until Ardyth. But she's an odd one, with unique skills, shocking habits, and total conviction she needs no man. She also harbors secrets, and in the midst of rumors, plots, and murder, trust is fragile.
A woman outside of her time. A man ahead of his. They must take a leap of faith to forge a bond that will shape history.
Find it online now: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo
A little extra…
The hero and heroine’s mutual love of history reflects my husband’s and mine. You might say history brought us together because right around the same time, each of us decided independently to move from different parts of the country to Virginia, specifically to seek work at Colonial Williamsburg. Nowadays, we work (respectively) at The House of the Seven Gables and The Witch House in Salem, MA. There’s a lot of both of us in Night of the Owl. That’s why the release date is perfect; it’s our 19th wedding anniversary. As if that isn't enough, I wore my hair almost exactly like the cover model's on the big day. Neither my publisher nor the cover artist knew about either coincidence. Pretty cool, right?!
Excerpt
Hugh stormed into the cave, unable to stem the tide of jealousy swelling inside him. A pox on Ranulf! Ardyth thought him smart, talented, kind, and handsome. She told me she didn’t need a man. Now here she is, half in love with a goliard!
Her arms dropped to her sides, and she stumbled backwards.
He stopped and frowned. “Why do you recoil?”
She halted and lifted her chin. “Why do you look so angry?”
With purposeful strides, he closed the distance between them. “I met Lady Isobel near the gatehouse. She told me you were here, talking of Ranulf.”
“Oh, she did! How good of her to report my every move, and how predictable that you prize her opinion above mine.”
“As you prize Ranulf above other men?” He clenched his fists, willing her to contradict him yet knowing she wouldn’t.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw the pair of you last night…conversing cozily in the hall. ʼTis obvious he’s claimed your affections, though how I cannot—”
“What?!” Her flushed face was a mask of disbelief.
“You heard me.”
“I did, but I doubted my ears. A man of your depth and perception must’ve realized that…”
His clamped fingers relaxed. “Realized…what exactly?”
“Must I say it out loud?”
“I think you’d better.”
With a huff, she rolled her eyes. “Ranulf is just a friend. If there’s anyone I like around here, ʼtis you!”
He hesitated only an instant, long enough to absorb what she’d said. Then he grasped her arms, pulled her to him, and pressed his lips to hers.
Breaking free of his hold, she took his face between her hands and returned his kiss with passionate abandon. Her tongue took the lead. Her moan harmonized with the howling wind. She tasted of elderberries, ginger, and honey. Of lust and life. Heat rushed through him, heightening every sense as he gave himself to the kiss.
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