Bound By Decency by Claire Ashgrove Blog Tour

Join us in giving Claire Ashgrove a BIG Guilty Pleasures WELCOME!

I’m Really Not Crazy

First, I must preface this blog with the following statement:

Ahem! Those of you who call me by my real name–stay the heck out of this conversation. The readers here don’t need to know the truth of things. Really. I promise. We’ll be just fine without your input.

Okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, and the peanut gallery has been relegated to the farthest corner of the Web… I’m not crazy. I’m just an author.

And that means, at any given moment there’s a plot rolling through my head that demands I space out of conversation right now, only to jump back in after a few moments of silence with a remark, or question, that has nothing to do with the previous topic. The topic I can no longer remember no matter how you squint at me or try to lead me back.

Being an author means I have to deal with characters that don’t get along. Characters who don’t want to get along. And don’t try to tell me that I can force them to get along because I created them—you don’t know these folks! That’s almost like telling me because I bought the pregnant dog, that I can directly influence whether the 8 puppies she had all over your dry-cleaning will play fetch or not.

Being an author means I have the inherent right to forget things…even if you just told me less than 10 minutes ago. Aside from the derailing plot issue and the war between the voices in my head, I have a jillion things to do. And my…look how the time flies… I had absolutely no idea that dinnertime has come and gone.

Being an author means I am easily distractible. Sort of like the “Squirrel!” reaction men suffer. These little…blips…pass right through my head and I’m off and running after them. Yes a nifty billboard sign can sidetrack me. Yes so can one word someone uttered as they passed me going through a doorway. Yes I can draft an entire novel from two sentences in an overheard exchange. It’s those damn ideas—I tell you they are an author’s plague. Three-quarters of all the energy I invest I will never use to boot!

Being an author means the entire world needs to listen to me ramble on about my newest, greatest, destined to be a bestseller, idea. This is why I hang out with other authors. We get that, and we are never offended when someone does a 180 on the conversation. We aren’t offended if someone blanks out. And we don’t take offense that last week’s conversation has now completely faded into the chaos of our minds.

But being an author also means, no matter how frustrating we may be, or how zany we may sound, we’re doing what we love. It’s passion you see when you call us nutty. It’s dedication when we work until the wee hours of morning. All this to put together a book, we hope our readers will adore, only to start all over again after we type The End.

And I sincerely hope all of you enjoy Bound by Decency. Thanks for letting me ramble here today!

Giveaway Details:
Claire will be giving away a $25.00 Amazon Gift Card to one random commenter during the tour. Follow the tour – the more times you comment, the better your chances of winning! Complete schedule can be found here. http://claireashgrove.blogspot.com/p/blog-tour-bound-by-decency.html

About Claire:
Claire Ashgrove has been writing since her early teens and maintained the hobby for twenty years before deciding to leap into the professional world. Her first contemporary novel, Seduction’s Stakes, sold to The Wild Rose Press in 2008, where she continues to write steamy, sexy stories for the Champagne and Black Rose lines. Adding to these critically acclaimed romances, Claire’s paranormal romance series, The Curse of the Templars debuted with Tor in January 2012. For those who prefer the more erotic side of romance, she also writes for Berkley Heat as the National Bestselling Author Tori St. Claire.

She is an active member of Romance Writers of America, and her local RWA chapters, Heartland Romance Authors, Midwest Romance Writers, North Texas Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers.

Claire lives inMissouriwith her two toddler sons, and too-many horses, cats, and dogs. In her “free” time, she enjoys cooking, winning at Rummy, studying Ancient Civilizations, and spending quiet moments with her family, including the critters. She credits her success to her family’s constant support and endless patience.

To learn more about Claire, visit her on the web at http://www.claireashgrove.com/ or www.toristclaire.com.

Bound By Decency Blurb 

After inheriting a portion of Spain’s Royal Inheritance, Cain left The Flying Gang for a chance at honest wealth. With the secrets of his piracy tucked away, he achieved his lofty aspirations. But when his partner and best friend betrays him to the Royal Navy, Cain’s dreams are ripped to shreds. He’s left with his ship, the tattered remnants of a stolen future, and a piece of Spanish mystery. Wanted by three nations and destined for the gallows, he returns to the legendary band of buccaneers for one purpose — vengeance.

Kidnapped by the formidable Cain, India Prescott discovers he intends to kill the man she’s to marry. Cain’s story reveals betrayal. Treachery that extends to her as well. Although she holds the key to retribution, India refuses to become another man’s pawn. Freedom lies before her, the liberty to shrug off propriety, make her own decisions, and claim her destiny. But when she uncovers goodness in Cain’s soul and he awakens passion in her heart, she must combat the chains of convention once more.

Only this time India’s not fighting society. She’s battling a pirate bent on keeping her decency intact.

Series Concept:

The Flying Gang Legacy

1717…
With Europe in chaos over who would claim the Spanish throne, the Atlantic waters bred a most despicable lot. Privateers who pillaged and claimed, loyal to no country, more thief than noble mercenary. One man would claim Spain’s inheritance. He would pass it on. To a band of cutthroats more terrifying and deadly than the nightmares of the deep.
As the nations settle into peace, The Flying Gang knows no boundaries. No sea is safe. No shore unchartered. Chilling Rogers raised to the sky, they reign with fear, bound only to the wind, the brotherhood, and the ships they love. One tiny jeweled box strikes a gleam in their eyes. A golden trinket four rogue Captains risk danger, capture, and even friendship to possess.
Until love interferes with their rapscallion hearts…

EXCERPT:
For a moment, he could do nothing more than stare. Richard had said his intended was lovely, but somehow, Cain had never pictured her as a beauty. Yet now, as she stood before him, her chest heaving with indignation and her hair a sopping mess, he realized Richard had once again played him false. India Prescott wasn’t merely lovely. She was breathtaking.
“What in the name of Mary do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. “My father will see you hang for this.”
Her sharp tongue yanked Cain out of his stupor. He collected himself quickly, and for the first time since his arrest, gave into a broad grin. “Indeed, he will have to get in line.”
India’s eyes widened a fraction, but anger drew delicate brows downward, and those sky-blue eyes narrowed. “I see no amusement in this. Do you have any idea who I am?”
As a rumble of laughter broke through the men within earshot, Cain’s humor subsided. His smile faded, and he reached out to twine a thick lock of her hair around his finger. Turning his wrist, he wrapped the silken length around his hand, slowly bringing her closer. So close that the wet fabric straining across her breasts dampened his shirt. The heat of her skin grazed his. “I know well who you are, Miss Prescott.” He ran the back of his free hand across her dainty collar bone, over the slope of her shoulder, then lifted it to draw his thumb across her parted lips. The audible catch of her breath ricocheted through him. So she was not unaffected by him. Good. He could use it to his advantage.
His gaze held hers. A flicker of fear passed behind her eyes, but to her credit, she didn’t shrink away. She stood straight and proud, even as she shivered in the stirring breeze. Courage Cain didn’t often encounter from the gentle born. God’s teeth, men far stronger and larger than she didn’t hesitate to grovel at his feet. Yet she, no bigger than a lark, defied him with stubborn silence.
Unacceptable.
To drive her subservient position as his captive home, he tightened his hold on her hair until she winced. Leaning forward, he lowered his mouth to her ear. “You are the daughter of a powerful man and presently my prisoner, to do with as I will.” Stepping back, he untwined his hand and smirked.
India’s palm cracked across his cheek. “Rot in hell!”