Please tell us about your writing. Can you
explain the title without giving too much away?
La Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess is the stage name given to my character when she starts
performing as a dancer on stage, in part, because it is rumored she was
Napoleon’s paramour before he began his campaign to take over the world.
Because more people have asked than I expected, “La Déesse Noire” means “The
Black Goddess” in French.
I am inspired by authors like Arturo Perez
Reverte, Jack Vance, Dan Simmons, Beatrice Small, J.R.R Tolkien, C. S. Lewis.
What writers inspire you?
In
historical romance, I am inspired by Alexandra Ripley foremost (she is more
historical fiction than romance, but for some reason, I associate her with
romance). I am a latecomer to the genre as a reader and writer, so most of my
influences are current: Lucinda Brant, who wrote my forever book boyfriend,
Roxton, in Noble Satyr; my friend and
colleague, Jude Knight, who wrote Farewell
to Kindness; Ella Quinn, Ava Stone, Elizabeth Bailey, and many, many others
who have become friends and associates. In mainstream historical fiction (where
I started writing fiction and have just contracted to release Blind Tribute, about a Civil War
newspaper reporter with divided loyalties), Ken Follett and John Irving utterly
fascinate, and completely outclass, me.
Whom do you see as your ideal reader?
Technically,
Regency and historical fiction readers are my target audience, but many, many
people who don’t usually read romance have been really excited about my books.
I try to write good fiction, not just good romance, so I hope that is reflected
in my readership.
What do you learn from your writing?
I had a
professor who pointed out once that I learn how the writing will progress as I
write (meaning, essentially, “What a horrible mess you’ve made of this
draft!”), so I learn my characters first, and then they tell me the plot. I
have to go back and add the setting and manipulate their plans in on the second
draft.
What advice can you give to aspiring writers?
Write.
Where can our readers find a copy of your
work?
Any
online retailer: Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and All
Romance eBooks. It is in print at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. You can also
buy direct from my website at www.MarianaGabrielle.com, but pre-order isn’t
available there, so La Déesse Noire
won’t be available for direct purchase until June 10.
And finally, as an author, do you have any
quirks or habits that help you write better?
Probably,
but I would be hard pressed to tell you what they are. The only one I can think
of is mentally drifting off into historical eras to the point of not listening
to present-day conversation. I have been known to say, “Sorry, can you repeat
that? I was in 1804.”
La Déesse Noire: The
Black Goddess
Rafflecopter contest
May 15 - June 9:
— OR —
Free copy of La
Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess, .epub or .mobi, to a random commenter.
Book Blurb
Sired by a British
peer, born of a paramour to Indian royalty, Kali Matai has been destined from
birth to enthrall England’s most powerful noblemen—though she hadn’t counted on
becoming their pawn. Finding herself under the control of ruthless men, who
will not be moved by her legendary allure, she has no choice but to use her
beauty toward their malicious and clandestine ends.
When those she holds
most dear are placed in peril by backroom political dealings, she enlists some
of the most formidable lords in England to thwart her enemies. But even with
the help of the prominent gentlemen she has captivated, securing Kali’s
freedom, her family, and the man she loves, will require her protectors stop at
nothing to fulfill her desires.
Author Bio
Mariana Gabrielle is a
pseudonym of Mari Christie, a professional writer, editor, and designer with
almost twenty-five years’ experience. Published in dozens of nonfiction and
poetry periodicals since 1989, she began writing mainstream historical fiction
in 2009 and Regency romance in 2013. In all genres, she creates deeply scarred
characters in uncommon circumstances who overcome self-imposed barriers to
reach their full potential. She is a member of the Bluestocking Belles, the
Writing Wenches, and the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers. Her first Regency
romance, Royal Regard, was released in November 2014.
Links
Buy/Review Links
Mariana Social Media
Facebook Launch Party, June 10, noon - 8 pm EDT
Website and Blog:
Tags
Romance, Regency
romance, Royal Regard, multicultural romance, interracial romance, courtesan,
Mariana Gabrielle, Mari Christie, @mchristieauthor
Hashtags
#Romance #Regency
#RegencyRomance #HistRom #BellesInBlue #MCRomance #IRRomance #MFRWAuthor #WeNeedDiverseRomance
And now the long waited excerpt (x rated as a reward to your patience)
Kali Matai’s
head bowed under the candlelight of dozen of chandeliers and the mirrored
footlights at the edge of the stage. The silence of the scene, the quiet of the
spirit of the dancer before them caused a hush across the theatre. La Déesse Noire would perform only once
the men settled themselves to give their full attention.
The shapely form
was held in perfect abeyance, clothed this night in gold-shot emerald green,
which might as easily have matched any jewel tone: deep sapphire, royal
amethyst, garnet red. The flickering lights from all sides reflected the
rhythmic bass note of the tabla drums, shaking in the jeweled bangles of
her gold chain girdle. The bells began to shake along the edges of her sari
as her lithe shape trembled under the sheerest silk in England. The audience
could not see the secrets of her body, but would swear they might with the next
movement, shake, twist, turn.
The fabric was
like water flowing down her collarbone, curling around her shoulder, drifting
across her bosom and around her trim waist. With a twist of ankle, the jeweled
rings on her toes sent flashes of light tripping across the assemblage, sure to
blind a few men, leaving them, for a few moments, with only the thought of
their last vision of her. The bracelets shaking at her wrists added a sharp
note to music already carrying her body through the steps of the mujra
dance.
The sound wafting
off the sarangi strings seemed to stroke along her inner thighs, her
legs twisting to the melody underneath the full silk skirts, caressing her hips
and buttocks, the length of her sari slipping on and off her shoulder, covering
and revealing her face, rubbing across any part of her body to which she wished
to call attention.
Her hips began
to shake like they might atop a man lying prone, side to side, fore to aft,
hands tracing her legs, a rhythm known only to her, which might take her
blissfully into la petite mort, if a man could but imitate it.
The steps took
her to her knees, her body writhing like a snake might, wrapping its coils
around the legs of any man in the audience who could visualize it, her eyes in
the candlelight glowing, face flushed, as though by sitting with her knees
parted at a man’s feet, rubbing against his calves, her face against his groin,
she might achieve her own, private ecstasy.
With an
unhurried stroke of her arm against her cheekbone, Kali finally loosened the
first strand of her tightly bound hair. One gold-and-diamond pin at a time, she
continued as the music worked back into a crescendo, until her skirts were like
waves crashing against a sea wall, her black tresses whipping around her face
like ash and smoke left by the fires of a vengeful goddess.
Slowing her
limbs to a near-stop, she draped herself backward, one hand and the top of her
head not an inch from the floor, the silk of her sari now loosely covering,
outlining, the treasures between her legs. Turning on her heel, the view
shifted from the crease of her thighs to the furrow between her bountiful
breasts, set off by her slack lips, reddened like they might appear after rough
use. Before the gentlemen looked their fill, slowly, letting the silk caress
her fingers, body loose and limber, Kali rose languidly from the contortion as
gracefully as a raven might stretch its wing.
As the music
once more gained speed and volume, her body followed, beginning to turn, spin,
to keep the rhythm with wrists, hips, and toes, heels keeping time with the
pounding drum. The faster she spun, the more the skirt rose to show her ankles,
her knees, covered in diaphanous muslin, another layer of translucence keeping
her all but nude for her audience’s pleasure.
One quick twist
of her gemstone-covered fingers released a gold chain strung with beads from
the girdle about her waist, letting it fall among the lengths of her skirts to
shimmer among the shot threads of silver and gold, Her hip set the chain
swinging in unison with her turns, and she loosened one bell-strung chain after
another, until the half-dozen that had circled her waist now draped her hips,
tinkling more raucously in their freedom.
When the turns
had entirely mesmerized the men, all eyes following her curves in unison, she
collected her movements once more, her feet almost motionless, the rest of her
body undulating in every direction at once, letting each man in the room
believe he was the one for whom La Déesse Noire might be reaching.
Her body had
been trained for a lifetime to exhibit and elicit the sexual hunger of the most
passionate bed: the depths of her dark eyes, the tangling of her heavy,
black-satin locks, the negligence of her smile, and the outline of her
quivering body undulating under silk, all brought to mind nothing so much as
the way she might look being stroked to completion under a man’s hand.
“Brava! Brava!”
Thanks for hosting me! Great questions!
ReplyDeleteYou're very welcome. It's always great to meet a fellow author.
DeleteI love this book so much , it is in my list of my favorite books ever!!!
ReplyDelete