WELCOME BACK TO THE BLOG JENN!!!
Born and raised in a household of other people’s children in this beautiful state —very nearly with a camera in hand— she never left. She started her own family, got used to the curls, went to college, built a CJ, started a business, and totally beat the daylights out of Chuck Norris, all with a camera in hand.
Spending her days in parenting chat rooms she got highly adept with one-handed typing and she can still type just about as fast with one hand as she can with two. It’s a great talent to have when engrossed in a scene and in need of a hit of caffeine. Once she finished her first novel she quickly realized: She was born a photographer.
From the realization that someone ELSE would be shooting the cover of HER book her control-freak took over. What started as an easy cover shoot ballooned into this completely new kind of media, designed specifically for digital book readers.
She lives and thrives off chaos and the constant flow of the creative process. She wears shorts and flip-flops year-round —much to the chagrin of her friends and family— and she is currently working on the illustrations for her second novel. Her first serial novel THE RAKE AND THE RECLUSE is doing its own Chuck Norris impersonation with the time travel charts on Amazon. You can find her on Twitter and Facebook sharing eye candy (NSFW) and being a total rock star.
Road To Ruination...er, RomCon
by Jenn LeBlanc
OMGoodness you guys.
RomCon 2011 was like a big coming out party for me. I convinced a certain trinity of bloggers to come out and party with me...and it was Ah Maze Ing. Um...honestly, I can’t even imagine how we are supposed to top that, but we will certainly try.
Last year I was a newb, a nobody, but this year... this year is different. My little book has stormed the gates and caused a ruckuss, and here we go people, this is IT!! This year is the party to celebrate and we are going to do it right.
What am I looking forward to MOSTEST? Seeing all the people I met for the first time last year, Kati and Jamie OF COURSE, Delilah Marvelle, of course, all the readers I met. Oh my. There are so many of you that have made this year so incredible.
Please for the love of Gideon if you would do me a giant favor and tell me how I know you when we meet, because WE WILL MEET. You WILL stop me in the hallway and tell me who you are. YOU WILL. I am horrible awful with names most of the time. I am sorry, I apologize ahead of time, but without a face attached to the name (and most of y’all have book covers and sexy torsos as AVIs) I won’t know who you are. SO throw a girl a bone OK? Because once I know who you are I will KNOW it. And I CANNOT WAIT.
If you’re NOT going to RomCon you can still order one, they’ll be mailed out after the con.
So go HERE to grab one, but they’re selling fast! YAY!
OK, here is an excerpt from my book, THE RAKE AND THE RECLUSE. A serialized time travel romance that has swept the country, gone viral, taken over digital readers across America, the UK, Australia, and 36 other countries. (WOW) and (THANK YOU)
The excerpt I’ve chosen is a little...STEAMY. Be warned.
Nonetheless, he found himself searching her out in the depths of the first floor balconies whenever he left his study, or walked the stairs, or went to the dining room. She had touched a nerve in him he never knew existed, and he was having a most difficult time in quelling his rampant need.
There was more. Certainly his cock twitched whenever he thought of her, but there was a knot in his chest where she was concerned as well. His position in the peerage, and her status as an unknown, drove him like nothing had in all his years as the Duke of Roxleigh.
He shifted in the bath. Water hit his chest like a waking slap and he released himself. What was he doing?
Bloody hell and damn. He finished the bath and toweled himself off, then wrapped it around his waist. Standing by the fire, he felt the heat singe the hair on his shins, the crackle dissipating his reverie and backing him up against the chaise. He fell into it, the towel falling open as he stretched out long, his ankles hanging from the end. He threw one arm over his eyes.
“Supper, Your Grace,” Ferry said as he entered with a tray. Roxleigh couldn’t even be troubled to grunt a response. Instead he left Ferry to his duty, listening to his footsteps slide across the floor, then become muffled by the rug. The delicate clink of china followed as he arranged the tray in front of the fire before leaving the way he came.
Roxleigh glanced at the tray and saw a missive set by the terrine of soup. He closed his eyes and returned to his thoughts.
Better not to think of her by name. Instead she would be this girl. This unwanted bit of distraction. That was what she was, that was how he had to think of her. No more, no less. She would be gone from his life soon enough, with all of her spit and fire with her.
He thought of the shock of her pulled up against him, neck to knee. Her indecision as her hands drifted between them, unsure whether to touch his chest or curl her fingers in retreat. He remembered the fight in her eyes, stolen by shock when she turned and glimpsed herself in the looking glass. He would have it destroyed. She had been moments from deciding to set him down good and proper, he was sure of it, and nothing in his life had stoked his passion as the anticipation of that set-down.
He felt his grin against his arm. This girl, this girl. God help him with this girl. How was he to survive in his own household? Part of him wanted to catch her somewhere she should not be, only for the chance to reprimand her, to see if he could get her to fight him again.
He growled. Picking fights with a girl? What was he, still in short pants? But she wasn’t a girl; she was a woman, and he a man. One leg slipped off the chaise and he anchored himself, planting his foot on the floor next to him.
The fire warmed and dried his skin from the bath, and he felt it soak in through his inner thighs and up though his groin. He really should move. He really should eat his supper. He really should read the letter. At the very least he should cover himself like a proper gentleman instead of laying here in his glory for all his furnishings to see.
His jaw clenched.
He took himself in hand. This time, a bit gentler. His thumb notched the base of his manhood and he palmed himself in one long stroke. He smoothed his hand down, then back up again, and he spread his legs wider, pushing into the floor as his thighs tensed.
Her hair was the color of toasted butter and cinnamon, her eyes the varied colors of the sky, and her demeanor was just as changing. He’d felt her watching him ride across the valley to the wood, each of his nerves striking the hairs on the back of his neck as it took all of his concentration to stay his course and not turn toward her. The launch into the thick forest was a release as much as it was a disappointment to no longer feel her awareness prickling his skin.
When he returned to the manor to find her on the balcony, her breasts straining the fabric of her nightgown, the garment pulled tight as she leaned into the wind above him, he nearly lost himself on his mount.
He pulled at the favorite memory, his stomach dampening with the early proof of his desire as he shifted and strengthened his grip.
His other hand found the towel half beneath him and tangled in it, pulling and grabbing the soft fabric until the muscles of his arm strained.
He gasped at the rough gritty edge to his own voice and pushed his head against the cushions, his back bowing out from the seat.
Sweet Francine. Her eyes were like windows to the world, lips as softly tinted as the blush on a rose. Her sweet, terrified face interchanged with that fierce vixen who prodded his chest, demanding to know who he was and how he was going to help set her to rights.
This was not normal. This should not be happening to him. This was something he should easily be able to avoid. His life was beyond controlled, ordered, set, decided, simple.
He felt the knot in his abdomen tighten, a frisson of electricity coursed down his spine, and every muscle stiffened, then release washed over him as his hand stroked feverishly, working to his end.
He collapsed into the spasms, his jaw and fingers flexing as he pulled the towel from beneath him and threw it across his belly.
As he settled before the fire to sup he picked up the note from Dr. Walcott that had been brought with his tray. Roxleigh never liked receiving news that someone in one of the shires was injured, and this one in particular was terrifying.
There was no reasonable explanation for the girl’s injuries and no one could account for her whereabouts, leaving them no idea as to what had happened to her. He made a mental note to send a man to Kelso.
Excerpt from The Rake and the Recluse ©2011 by Jenn LeBlanc
Photo ©2011 by Jenn LeBlanc. Used with permission.
The Rake and the Recluse:
A woman out of time.Get Your Own Copy of Full Serial: Kindle | Nook | ARe | iBooks
A man stifled by propriety.
A nemesis determined to take her away.
A brother to the rescue.
How will a powerful Duke deal with a woman who doesn't know her place? How will a woman used to the 21st century survive in time where she is considered property?
THE RAKE AND THE RECLUSE Part One brings Francine to the world of the Duke of Roxleigh, clashing worlds in first installment of the completely revised novel, with all new material.
Part two finds Francine in the world of the Duke of Roxleigh. The clashing of worlds in first installment of the completely revised novel continues as Francine finds her footing, discovers secrets about her elusive host, and learns more about herself than she ever thought possible.
Part THREE brings Francine and Gideon closer than they ever imagined possible, until the unimaginable tears them apart. What will Gideon do if he loses her, this time, forever? This is the third installment of the completely revised novel, with all new material.
Part FOUR is full of revelations, celebrations, protestations and one surprise that will have you holding your breath for the final chapters. What has Perry done?
Part FIVE Perry leaves Roxleigh House without a backward glance only to be tossed headlong into one of the most difficult trials of his life. How will he protect the very thing he is dedicated to pursuing? How will a man dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure survive a woman who refuses to relent, when he knows he cannot have her.
In the final part of THE RAKE AND THE RECLUSE, Perry must find the woman who has managed to capture his heart, then he must find a way to keep her. Someone else is on the hunt, someone from her past who doesn’t appreciate that she still lives and breaths.
Book Extras: Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Get FREEDOM: Part 1 Free: Kindle | Nook | ARe | iBooks
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A huge thank you to Jenn for hanging out at the blog, for her friendship and for the fabulous posters.
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