Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Wednesday Guest- Roberta C.M. DeCaprio

Roberta C.M. DeCaprio is a native of Schenectady, N.Y. and a freelance writer of all genres in romance and woman’s mainstream fiction. A prior “sexuality” columnist for A.B.L.E.D. WOMEN magazine, and former Assistant Editor for INDEPENDENCE TODAY newspaper, www.itoday.org (both publications dedicated to the needs and rights of the disabled), Roberta has insight into the problems other physically challenged people face due to living herself with a walking impairment.
She is an award winning poet and author of paranormal, thriller, and historical r omance. Her books can be found at Wings Press, www.wings-press.com www.fictionwise.com www.thewildrosepress.com and www.zlspublishers.com in both ebook and print.
A mother and grandmother of two, Roberta shares her upstate NY home with many dearly loved pets and her artist husband. To read excerpts from Roberta’s books log on to: www.robertadecaprio.com

Why do you write westerns with Native American characters?I loved watching westerns with my father on TV when I was a youngster. Such shows as Roy Rogers, Hop-a-Long Cassidy, and Wild Bill Hickcock filled my Saturday morning viewing slot. But my favorite was The Lone Ranger....I even met Clayton Moore twice in my life and the first time he gave me a silver bullet (which I still have today). I also loved Tonto, the good, kind, and loyal Native American friend who stood by the masked ranger. From loving Tonto as I did I always knew one day I'd write a novel about Indians.

What triggered this book?When most westerns portrayed the Native American people in a violent and ruthless light, I began to do some research of my own, and discovered the true spirit of their culture. When I wrote THE GOLDEN LADY I made the hero an Apache warrior and the heroine a white woman because I wanted to finally bridge the gap. And what better way to do it then in a romance novel.

How long have you been writing and what put the bug in you to write? I've been writing for 40 years....poetry first. For many years I traveled around town with a Poet Troop and did readings of my work in local cafes, bookstores, and libraries. I always had a flare for ryhming words. But it was in 1984, while going through a divorce, that a friend brought me a book by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss to read, entitled A ROSE IN WINTER. That novel inspired me to write THE GOLDEN LADY. . . .which took 25 years to get published.

BLURB: True love, like a rose in amber, lasts forever. . . Sunny Eagle is sent to England, along with her two siblings, to live with her mother's aunt in Brighton. Separated from her sister along the way, Sunny must adhere to Britian's protocol and rules, as well as cope with an overbearing aunt. Captain Rafe Cavendish, a man who vowed never to fall in love again, is drawn to Sunny and saves her life twice. Can he keep his distance from this beautiful and caring woman, or will he lose his heart to her and chance having it broken once again?

EXCERPT:

He stiffened beneath the gentle finger that traced the scar across his back.

“How did you get this?” a voice laced with concern came from behind.

Rafe spun around to find Sunny standing with a flask of water in her hand, and a most endearing look upon her beautiful face. “Don’t look at me like that.”

She neared him. “Like what?”

Frustration coursed through his body. “Like that . . . the way you are now, as if I was an injured animal in need of rescue.”

She gasped. “How do you know about my animals?”

“It doesn’t matter how,” he scowled. “I’d also advise you not go sneaking up behind a man wielding an axe. It could be disastrous.”

“I did not sneak up, in fact I called out your name twice,” she defended.

Frustration mounted to rage. “And so you thought touching me would be better?”

She ignored his anger. “How did you get that scar?”

He frowned at her audacity. “That’s none of your business.”

“Why?”

He wiped the sweat from his brow with an arm. “Why, what?”

“Why is it not my business?”

“Because it isn’t,” he retorted. “Nothing I do has any bearing on you at all.”

“How can you say that?” she argued. “We are friends, are we not? You are staying in my aunt’s home, helping my brother, you have saved me from my doom twice already . . . and you even know about my rescued animals. Why am I not part of your life as you are of mine . . . why can I not ask you a simple question?”

Her bold assessment to the rights of his privacy took him totally by surprise. He arched a brow. “You can ask any question you wish, it doesn’t mean I will answer.”

“Why are you so grumpy all the time?” she flung at him. “I can honestly say I have never met such a man, so out of sorts all the time, as you.”

“Why are you here bothering me while I’m working?” he spat, his rage becoming impossible to control.

“I peered out the window and saw you looking tired and warm, so I brought you a flask of water,” she said, holding out the container for him to take. “In my village when a man works hard a woman brings him something to drink.”

“Well, you are not in your village anymore,” he snapped, refusing to take the flask in spite of his growing thirst. “And it’s best you begin to realize it. You are in England, not Arizona. Women here do not touch men that are not their husbands unless they want to offer them something more then a flask of water.” He frowned. “Do you see, Miss Eagle?”

“What I see is that you are an ass, Captain Cavendish,” she replied with a curt response, pushing the flask into his hand and stalking away.

He threw the flagon to the ground and marched after her, turning her around by the shoulders. “You are bound and determined to get yourself caught into something you will definitely regret.”

“What I regret is ever trying to be nice to you,” she snapped. “You are a mean, bitter and confusing man and I . . .”

He could listen to no more, especially when the words were sprouting forth from the most desirable and tantalizing set of full lips he ever yearned to taste. And then the scent of her, the feel of her shoulders beneath his hands, the heat coursing through his flesh and filling his loins, was just too much for a man to ignore. He pulled her to him and lowered his mouth to hers, smothering her lips with demanding mastery. He took her with a savage intensity, crushing her to him.

1 comment:

Lauri said...

Your very own silver bullet? I am so jealous!!!

Great interview and excerpt. Oodles and oodles of best wishes for many sales and many more books--that don't take 25 years to get published! All of Katherine W. books remain favorites of mine!

Cheers,