View Full Version : Contest and New Release

January 28th, 2008, 09:29 PM
WriterCoffee Hi there. I'm new at posting so you'll have to bear with me and hope I do this right. I'm Kelly Kirch. I write Regency set historicals for both CerridwenPress and ResplendencePublishing and I have two books coming out in quick succession.

The one I'm promoting with a contest is for RP. RP has all the authors running a contest prior to our chat on the 12th. You should join us for that. It'll be a lot of fun.The title of my book is Marriage Mart and it's coming out March 11th. So here's the deal...

Since I won't have a book out by Feb 12th, day of the chat, I'm starting off with a bang.

I've tracked down the most beautiful red Swarovski crystal, silver, and garnet necklace. It's in red, silver, and black. The handmade jewelry is from jewelry artist Ann Freehill.

What's the contest, you ask? Excellent question. My RP book is a Regency where the heroine does not want to be married, but her betrothal is set. She does everything in her power to stop the plans, including her attempt to pass herself off as a young lord.

In 300 words or less, send me a true story about the craziest thing you did to get a crush's attention or to rid yourself of someone else's crush.

Send entries to KellyKirch@Gmail.com (KellyKirch@Gmail.com) with "Kelly's Contest" in the subject line. The contest starts immediately and runs through midnight, February 14th 2008.

January 29th, 2008, 10:08 AM
Hi everyone!

I'll be posting excerpts and character interviews here over the next few days. I plan on putting one up later today. Come back for a sneak peak at Marriage Mart, releasing on March 11th!


January 29th, 2008, 12:57 PM
Ester continued. "Still, you have no need to worry. The last I remember--and forgive me for saying so Caroline--Marcus, our esteemed Earl of Rochester, was a scowl-faced old man who had more concerns with his wealth than with pleasantries."

Marie and Penelope exchanged looks.

"Ester, that was almost ten years ago. Your perceptions were those of a little girl to a man home from University trying to prove himself," Penelope said.

"I saw him two years ago and my heart has not yet recovered," sighed Marie.

"His care for investments has made him much respected and afforded him considerable wealth. And," Caroline added, "he cares a great deal for pleasantries. You misjudge him harshly." Caroline swatted her tea napkin at Ester.

"What do I care anyway?" Ester chided, "My father is attempting to marry me off to Mr. Welby. It is his character which concerns me at the moment. I suppose," Ester sighed, "I will make peace with Marcus some day, but in the meantime, I need to know about my intended."

"Marcus is a man of business. Would it not be wise to ask him about Mr. Welby? Perhaps Marcus shares a financial commonality with Mr. Welby," Penelope noted.

"I may need to make peace much sooner than I had thought," Ester murmured.

"That will be quite a feat," said Marie. "Didn't you set fire to all his cravats after he spanked your back end for stealing a pasty from the kitchen?"

"Yes," Ester blushed, "but he was acting superior and it irked me when his cravat never wrinkled through the entire episode. Besides, I was hungry. Cook wouldn't have minded. And I didn't know the pasties were filled with tart apples and cream for his father's birthday."

"True, but whatt about the time you told all of his visiting friends his favorite pastime was galloping about in the nursery in his shirtsleeves and whooping as loud as he could," reminded Caroline. "Or the time you stole down to the pond while he was swimming and took all his clothes back to the estate just before my musicale? He was left trying to sneak in unnoticed but you made sure nosey Lady Haversham saw him through the garden windows."

Marie and Penelope snickered at the memory.

Ester squirmed. "Well, he did like galloping in the nursery when he was a child. And Lady Haversham saw him of her own accord."

"You neglected to inform his friends of the minor technicality of age and I seem to remember you pointing out the windows and saying something like, 'Oh, my, Lady Haversham, I do believe I see something behind those bushes. Can you quite make out what it is?'"

"Marie, hush, before you tell all my secrets. I understand your point. I have a lot of making up to do with Marcus."

January 31st, 2008, 10:42 AM
So what would you do (assuming you were Regency) if your parent had committed you to a marriage you didn't want?

January 31st, 2008, 11:09 AM
Hope that there was someone to rescue me! Seriously, even though I LOVE historicals...in real life...you didn't have much of a choice.

So were you talking realisitically or in a story? :wideeyed:

January 31st, 2008, 01:13 PM
If you were in a situation where saying no wasn't an option but there were no limits to what you would do otherwise. You can pull any trick out of your hat you like, but you are not allowed to humiliate your father by saying no. I guess this is a fictitious, tongue in cheek question for a no holds barred answer. Take a shot at it. :)

Amy Corwin
January 31st, 2008, 02:27 PM
See-I'm ornery and never like being told what to do unless I think it's basicaly a good idea and am convinced it is the right thing to do. Drove my parents crazy, although they learned to cope by "discussing" what I should do and convincing me that it was the correct course of action, rather than issuing orders.

My point being that I'm afraid I would seek other alternatives. I would probably find my way into service somewhere as a companion or governness because being paid to do what you're told is vastly different than just being told. I do what I'm told at work--because I'm paid to do it (although that doesn't stop me from arguing if I think it's stupid).

And I'm afraid if my family didn't like it, then I would simply be short one family.

Of course, murder is always an excellent alternative if set in the fictional world. In the real world, I believe very firmly in just walking away.

There are always alternatives.

February 1st, 2008, 02:38 PM
Hi Amy,

That's exactly how I feel. I'm stubborn. That's why I couldn't see a worthy story for Ester simply giving in. Nope. I had to make her fight. So she fights. She thwarts, she dresses up in disguise, she refuses to be told she cannot do something. Ester always has a plan. This time, Ester's plan gets her in trouble.

Why? Because she didn't have the whole story and now her antics have put her family and friends into jeapardy.

I'm posting a picture of the necklace which is up for grabs in my contest tomorrow at www.kkirch.blogspot.com (http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com). If you can tell me in 300 words or less what you have done to either get the attention of a crush, or turn a crush from you, send it in. I'll draw the winning name on February 14th as part of the Resplendence publishing contest going on. Good luck!!!


February 2nd, 2008, 11:33 AM
I'm having problems posting excerpts and the like, so here is a link to the hero interview I wrote:


Meet Marcus. Tell me what you think.

February 2nd, 2008, 05:17 PM
Taken from my blog, www.kkirch.blogspot.com (http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com)
(Hero from Time For Love with www.CerridwenPress.com (http://www.CerridwenPress.com))
I’m getting pretty good at this interview thing. Yes, I know I ran out twice now on my guys because I wimped out, but I think I can get a handle on it this time. I’m interviewing Drake, the most laid-back of the guys I’ve created. Piece of cake, right?
And there he is, standing by that pillar about halfway down the length of the ballroom. He’s leaning on it like he’s propping it up, a punch cup of champagne in his hand. Drake’s dark hair has flopped across his forehead and curls the back collar, a little longer than it should be.
He’s not looking at me yet, so I have the opportunity to observe him just as he is watching the lovely young lady in green, the same seafoam shade as his eyes, dance across the floor with a dandy of a fop.
Drake’s eyes crinkle at the corner as he smiles at some unknown joke. But it’s interest which I see shining through as he studies the abundant curves of the young miss. Lovingly his gaze lingers on her backside and snakes back up to caress her face.
He dares to dress as he chooses. He’s not clothed in bold colors or flashy, light catching materials like the other men, but one’s eyes are drawn to him, regardless. He’s chuckling under his breath when I approach and hasn’t seen me.
I tap his shoulder lightly, proud of myself for wearing something appropriate for the Regency Period ball we’re attending. “Hi,” I say, sporting a huge grin.
His head swings around and he gives me a chagrined look. “Caught me admiring the season’s offerings.”
“Get real, Drake. When aren’t you admiring the season’s offerings?” I wiggle my brows at him because I know he can take a joke and appreciates forward speech.
“Touche, my sweet.” Drake stands to full height and while he doesn’t tower over me, I barely clear his chin with my forehead. He nods toward the balcony, a question in his eyes.
“I don’t think so,” I say, tugging at my bodice.
My actions bring me to his attention. Never having been accused of being stick thin and knowing Drake prefers a fuller figured woman, I do not miss the instant wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Uh. No way, buddy.”
“You have no possible way of ascertaining my thoughts.”
“Wanna bet? I created you. I know exactly what you’re thinking and while I love it, it ain’t happening.”
Drake laughs loudly, making no excuses for the happy, unrestrained sound. “If it bothers you, Kelly, why did you create me in this fashion?”
“I never said it bothered me. In fact I wrote you because I felt men should appreciate the beauty a fuller woman embodies. I think you’re wonderful.”
He winks at me then and the wicked twinkle is firmly placed in his eyes as he settles in for some teasing banter. I know it and I love it. Drake is like a refined best friend who happens to believe you are completely sexy the way you are. It’s one of his most attractive features. Okay, that, the gorgeous green eyes that never falter and the loose-hipped stride which naturally screams playboy.
“Wonderful can house numerous traits. I assume you are pleased with the way I look at you?”
“Ha! Who wouldn’t be?”
His expression grows serious. “I’m not certain Sarah sees me in such a favorable light. Perhaps you could rewrite her to find me similarly desirable?”
“Sarah?” I can’t believe he doesn’t think Sarah finds him attractive. She’s only been drooling over him since she went back in time and woke up in his arms. If anything, his flagrant attraction to her has given her more than enough reason to stay in Regency England, but hey, let him figure that out for himself. It’s all in the book (Time For Love, releasing Valentine's Day 2008. So instead of offering him some consolation, I shrug. “I guess I could think about it. You like her, huh?”
“Sarah is,” he’s struggling to find words. His eyes light up and he begins to speak only to change his mind and search for another description. Finally he just smiles. “I simply adore her.”
And that’s good enough for me. Ah. Another perfect match.

February 3rd, 2008, 12:14 PM
You rock! How did you do that? I keep getting errors but would love to post more. Let me in on your secrets. :biggrin:

February 6th, 2008, 10:57 AM
This is from Time for Love out 2/14 from CerridwenPress. Sarah has just traveled back to Regency England...
Sarah’s ears rang.
They had to be ringing. The stains of a waltz bloomed in her head. The last time she had heard something like that was when little Timmy Gustaffson had chased her in the playground and she’d run into an arching wooden swing.
Being fired felt kind of like that. The sick crack to the head of disbelief, the stomach plummeting nausea…an arching wooden swing to her psyche.
Rich chocolate tones called her name. She peeked and quickly sealed that one eye back up.
*Whoa! He’s hot! Maybe I should get fired more often. Love the hallucination.*
“Sarah. Open your eyes.”
She did. He was lovely. “Yummy.” *Oh crud! Did I just say that out loud?*
Crystalline green eyes looked back at her curiously.
The angel of sex appeal bent deliciously near her. As sensation seeped back into her numb body, she also realized he held her slumped body against him. A steely arm wrapped supportively around her upper back and pressed her against the lapels of his coat. She decided his shoulder made a wonderful, albeit firm, pillow.
He smelled like heaven too. Male. Musky. And sandlewoody. She could sink into flavors like that.
“Oh, Sarah, you dropped your rose! Lord Hayworth, maybe you should take her onto the veranda while I pick this up. I should have waited until tomorrow after the festivities before I presented it to you, dear girl.”
She’d brought a woman into this fantasy? Sarah reopened her right eye. Reluctantly, she looked beyond the ebony haired vision. She had brought several other people apparently. She opened her other eye to take in the full scope. A dark haired woman bent to collect the shards of a crystal rose and emerald stem that lay at Sarah’s feet.
Another woman, blonde and wearing a petulant frown tapped a cornflower-blue slipper. Two woolen clad male backs screened Sarah from the dancers on the floor. The crystal strains of an orchestra seeped past their guard and filled her head.
*The sound system in this room is amazing. Sounds like they’re right here with me.*
Sarah stood upright with Gorgeous Guy’s support.
“What is the matter with you? People are beginning to notice. Mother, make her collect herself. What if someone sees? I could be ruined.”
Fully supporting her own weight, Sarah faced the owner of the whiney pitched complaint—the one with the petulant frown. The girl had to be upper-teens. She had platinum blonde hair and wide azure eyes. She was petite. Of course. She was Martha Mullen-esque, standing maybe five-two and all of a hundred pounds.
“Alexandra. Hush,” the brown-haired woman admonished. “Drake, please.”
The beautiful man clasped Sarah’s hand to his arm. Another man followed behind, whisking her toward double French doors. She stared across the room. There was a live orchestra here? *Where the heck am I?*
Drake tugged her back into motion and they gained the dark, cool safety of the veranda. “You stay with her. I will be back with some lemonade.”
The other man smiled pleasantly.
“Hi,” she said.
Confusion settled on his forehead. “Perhaps you should come to the bench and rest.” He led her to the bench, patting it. The solid thump of his hand on the stone slab seat reassured her of its reliability. She leaned back on the cool stone trying to still the cacophony of confusion swirling in her head.
Music floated out to them. A breeze ruffled the hairs on the nape of her neck. Candles burned brightly from every sconce in the room beyond. A couple waltzed past the open veranda doors. She wore an elaborate silver ball gown. He was dressed in peacock colors and a tall, stiff collar.
“Where am I?”
“At Grantham house attending their introduction ball for Alexandra. You have been planning this with Elizabeth for weeks. Don’t you remember?” The blond gentleman leaned toward her, concern written on every feature. His blue eyes shone with friendship and mild alarm.
Was she dreaming? Every sense tingled with accuracy. The cool gritty stone under her hands caught roughly at her gloves. The orchestra played sweet notes which floated on the same breeze that ruffled her skirts. Jasmine and candle wax warred for recognition. Never had a dream been more real.
*Great! Getting fired has made me loopy.*
She looked down at herself. She too was dressed in a ball gown. Navy colored slippers peeked from the hem of her navy satin dress. Sarah raised her hand touching the heavy pendant at her throat and higher to her elaborately piled hair. “Where am I?” Panic welled up inside her and settled about her breast bone.
“Is she all right?”
Sarah turned to the sound of Drake’s velvety voice.
“She seems to have forgotten she’s at the ball,” the fair-haired man said.
She didn’t know what was happening but she wasn’t about to show her hand either. “I’m okay. I just need to rest a minute. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. You know, temporary amnesia.”
“You hit your head?” Drake asked.
“When I fainted?” she offered.
“Was there some other time I should have caught you?”
“Uh. No. Just this last time. How come I sound English?”
Drake shook his head. “I think you’re right Lord Milstoke. She’s not well.”
She sipped the lemonade Drake handed her. Her eyes darted, trying to settle on something that made sense. None of it did. Her head throbbed. Lord Milstoke, the fair and Drake, the sexy, were looking at her with marked concern.
“Perhaps you should go to your quarters,” Drake suggested.
“And where would they be?” she asked.
Drake and Lord Milstoke exchanged looks.
“I’ll have Elizabeth take you. I may be a common sight in the Grantham house but my escorting you to your rooms would cause raised eyebrows for which even my title won’t compensate.”
“Of course you have a reputation. How cliché.”
“Nothing. Don’t mind me. I’m just hallucinating. I got fired today.”
“You’ve been burned?” Milstoke asked in alarm.
“No. I was let go.”
“That’s impossible. I caught you myself. You never touched the ground.” Drake looked offended.
Sarah grinned. “Never mind. Take me to your leader. I need a nap.”
Drake tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. She turned back to Milstoke before entering the ballroom again. “Hey, if you see my cab driver, don’t tip him. I don’t appreciate the joke. It’s been a hard enough day as it is.”

February 7th, 2008, 12:46 PM
<TABLE class=tborder id=post35448 cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=6 width="100%" align=center border=0><TBODY><TR vAlign=top><TD class=alt1 id=td_post_35448 style="BORDER-RIGHT: #f7d8d5 1px solid">Ester clutched the stony baluster for support, hanging her head. Tears streamed down her face in hot trails. She didn’t care if she ruined her disguise. The orchestra’s sweet notes drifted a tender waltz, wrapping around her as if to comfort her. She moved off to the edge of the balcony where the shadows enveloped her. Covering her face with her hands, the grease at her temples saturated her gloved fingers. She removed them with quick jerking motions.
Why hadn’t father told her? Was it so hard to claim he had stood up for a young doctor and felt bound to him? And why the bloody hell didn’t her father call upon Baxter when mother got pregnant again if her own birth nearly cost her mother’s life?
Too many questions.
Ester shook her head almost hypnotically from side to side and tried desperately to muffle her crying. Between the tears and her rubbing hands, she knew her disguise was decimated. She could feel the smooth skin of her jaw and didn’t care. Ester wiped her cheeks along her sleeves and shed her coat allowing the cool November air to sooth her heated body.
In the depths of the shadows, a warm hand fumbled to her shoulder and gently squeezed her. Ester jumped, her heart pounding in her chest. “Who’s there?”
“A friend.” The voice was a soothing balm and she hiccupped. “Do you want to talk about what’s upsetting you?”
“No. I don’t even know you.” Ester tried unsuccessfully to keep her voice from wobbling.
“I don’t know you either but I heard you crying. Come, you need a friend.”
Ester felt her ire rise. “Contrary to popular belief, not all women need to be coddled or seduced.” She prayed the embodiment of that voice hadn’t seen her exit to the balcony as a man. She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
The voice chuckled warmly. “I’m here for neither, though perhaps it is a promising idea to take your mind off your troubles.”
Ester breathed an internal sigh of relief, her identity was preserved. “If I had wanted to be coddled,” she snuffled, “I would have sought out my father.”
“And where would you go for the seduction?”
Ester thought wildly, grasping for any outrageous name that came to mind. She smiled at the incongruity of the one which sprang to mind. “I suppose I would seek out someone like Lord Rochester.” She hoped the defiance in her voice wasn’t overshadowed by the embarrassing hiccup that escaped her.
The man’s voice chuckled with a secret joke. “Lord Rochester, eh? You are in luck then.”
Uneasiness grabbed hold of her. “Why?” she whispered, already knowing the answer.
“Lord Marcus Rochester, seducer of young virgins and mysterious crying women at your service.”
She sensed, more than felt, Marcus gather himself around her.
“You see,” he whispered, lifting her chin, “your tears are already ceasing.” She was so distracted that the sudden sensation of warm breath on her lips caused her to inhale sharply.
She had a flash of momentary irritation for his arrogance. His lips brushed lightly over hers and her irritation vanished, replaced with curiosity. The whisper of a touch could have been imagined, it was so gentle. Ester waited, absorbed with the slight tingling sensation on her lips.
His lips touched hers again, this time with deeper, tender pressure. An image of Marcus as he appeared in the Braithwaite ballroom invaded her mind and she felt her stomach flop unexpectedly. Marcus captured her bottom lip between his and suckled it tenderly.
She moaned. She didn’t remember placing her hand on his chest for support but she felt the rumble of his chuckle before she heard it. On some level, she realized her enjoyment of this stolen kiss could present a problem.
He leaned forward tentatively, as though sensing her hesitance and respecting it, allowing her to pull away from him if she wished. Ester thought she should stop but couldn’t make herself. He held her with no more than a touch of fingertips beneath her chin and the sear of his lips on hers. Her fingers curled against his great coat. She felt a trill in the knowledge that the thumping of his erratically beating heart mirrored hers.
His kiss broke off suddenly, leaving her bereft of his soft warmth.
“Somebody is calling me.” Marcus’ voice was husky and he seemed to waiver between kissing her again and dispatching the potential for discovery.
“Marcus, I must go home immediately. I know you are out here.”
Ester recognized Caroline’s voice and realized Caroline must have seen her exit to the balcony too.
He stood very still. His heated breath still fanned against her lips. “Will you be all right?” he asked.
She nodded not thinking about the darkness concealing her from his gaze. The softness of his lips grazed her again and she sighed into the sensation.
He groaned.
Ester whispered, her lips brushing his as she spoke, “I’ll be all right.”
“I was afraid you might say that.” He smiled against her lips bemusement tinting his voice. “I’m not sure I am able to go.”
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February 11th, 2008, 10:30 AM
Time for Love--- CerridwenPress.com 2/14/08
Marriage Mart---ResplendencePublishing.com 3/11/08

The contest ends 2/14/08 for the necklace mentioned in the first thread. OR go to kkirch.blogspot.com/kellykirch.com for more details.

DON'T FORGET that Resplendence is doing a chat HERE tomorrow night 6-10 EST with all its authors. We'd love to hear from you!!

Georgie Lee
February 11th, 2008, 05:10 PM
So what would you do (assuming you were Regency) if your parent had committed you to a marriage you didn't want?

I think I might have stolen, uh, I mean borrowed some family silver and tried to make my way in America. :euro:

February 11th, 2008, 09:12 PM
LOL Georgie!! Not a bad idea. I like your spunk.

February 12th, 2008, 12:06 PM
Tonight from 6-10p EST RIGHT HERE the authors of Resplendence Publishing will be chatting and giving away prizes!!!

Don't forget...
Time for Love is first to release by Cerridwen on Valentine's Day and Marriage Mart by Resplendence is on March 11th. So here's the deal:

The RP book is a Regency where the heroine does not want to be married, but her betrothal is set. She does everything in her power to stop the plans, including her attempt to pass herself off as a young lord (Marriage Mart, RP 3/11/08).[/URL]
http://bp0.blogger.com/_KKZCJc9KSho/R6_WUmhVV0I/AAAAAAAAATY/_BzEIXI63m8/s200/067.JPG (http://bp2.blogger.com/_KKZCJc9KSho/R6h5T7H9ARI/AAAAAAAAARE/Q3RpBe3fvRc/s1600-h/068.JPG)

In 300 words or less, send me a true story about the craziest thing you did to get a crush's attention or to rid yourself of someone else's crush.

Send entries to [U]KellyKirch@Gmail.com (KellyKirch@Gmail.com) with "Kelly's Contest" in the subject line. Time is running out. You have til midnight after Valentine's day to turn in your entries! Get yours in ASAP.

Also, there is a Resplendence Publishing chat tonight on CoffeeTimeRomances.com from 6-10p EST. There will be the whole stable of authors and prize giveaways galore. If you get a chance stop in and learn something about this new publisher who works for the author.