Tell us about your latest book, who are the main character(s) and what can we expect when we pick it up?
My latest book is Once Upon a Christmas Castle. Lady Rosalind travels to Weston castle for an arranged marriage with an ancient earl and falls in love with the Duke of Weston, her stepfather’s cousin.
Do you come up with the hook first, or do you create characters first and then dig through until you find a hook?
I came up with the hook first and then created characters around the story.
Which of your characters would you want to share a campfire with, and why?
I would share a campfire with the duke because he’s capable, kind, and hot/
Any favorite authors you enjoy to read in your spare time?
I am reading Becoming the One. I tend to read positive vibe books in my spare time.
Are there any specific themes or messages that you strive to convey through your writing? What impact do you hope your books have on readers?
I like my heroine’s to be smart, capable, and fiery. Women are the heroes to my way of think. But that’s not to say I don’t enjoy a strong, masculine man.
What are some of the biggest challenges you've faced as an author, and how have you overcome them?
Getting traditionally published is a big deal. And I’m happy to not be a novice anymore.
How do you approach character development in your stories? Do you have any specific techniques or methods that you find particularly effective?
I spend time thinking of where I want my characters to start, and where I want them to end up. The rest is easy.
What do you believe sets your writing apart from others in your genre, and why should readers choose to read your books?
My books have a storyline besides romance. I think intrigue, family drama, and intense situations add color to the love story.
Can you talk about the marketing and promotion strategies you employ to reach and connect with your target audience? How do you utilize social media and other channels to build your author brand?
I used to think getting lots of reviews would help and with my last book, I put it on several sites for readers to read and leave a review. I have since changed my mind about the benefits and am trying other strategies with this book.
How do you handle feedback and criticism from readers and reviewers?
For the most part, feedback is good, and I take it at face value. Those unfortunate souls who want to bash every other author aren’t worth taking the time to read.
Can you discuss any upcoming projects or books that you're currently working on? What can readers expect from your future works?
I have a series called Calhan Brides. My second book, A Fallacious Seduction, is the first. My second, Catching Rose is due out in February and I am in edits for the third, A Lilli By Any Other Name. It’s fun, exciting, and very satisfying to see them come to life.
Title: Once Upon a Christmas Castle
Author: Virginia Barlow
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: November 6, 2023
Pages: 276
Genre: Holiday Romance
Lady Rosalind Chatham journeys with her family to Weston Castle
to wed an ancient earl on Christmas day. Yearning for true love, she falls for
the duke, her stepfather's cousin, while preparing for her nuptials. Lady
Rosalind entrances the Duke of Weston. Concerned for her future with the
tempestuous earl, he can't afford to get involved. The fines and scandal will
be too great for a man of his wealth and power. When the truth comes to light,
and he almost loses her forever, he finds he cannot afford to give less than
his whole heart.
What Critics Are Saying:
"Loved this holiday romance between Lady Rosalind
(Ruby) and the charismatic Duke of Weston. Facing a forced marriage to a
loathsome noble, Rosalind uncovers lies and betrayal which almost cost her the
life of the man she loves.
With plot twists, devious characters, attempted abduction,
and touches of humor-- thanks to a little boy and his unpredictable pet frog--
this Christmas novel is a delightful holiday read!"
Buy Links:
Book Excerpt:
Chapter One
Yorkshire, England
Late November 1813
Lady Rosalind Chatham’s first view of
Weston Castle took her breath away.
Gazing out the little window of her
stepfather’s luxurious carriage as they turned a corner on the winding road,
the trees of the dense forest fell away to reveal a magical, ethereal structure
rising high above them.
Standing tall against the dark foliage of
the forest, the heavy stone castle sparkled in the afternoon light.
Rosalind blinked up at the elegant towers
and spires caressing an azure blue sky holding communion with fluffy white
clouds and sighed with appreciation.
The relatives spoke of the beauty of
Weston Castle, but their lavish praise in no way prepared her for this glorious
reality.
Allowing her gaze to roam the enchanting
scene before her, she wondered how the gate to her private hell could resemble
the entrance to heaven. Such a thing should not be allowed, for it played with
her mind and heart in a most unpleasant fashion. Shaking her head at the irony
of the situation, she turned her attention back to the lavish grounds
surrounding them.
The cobblestone road they traveled on
meandered through acres of manicured gardens strewn with glistening
diamond-studded droplets of frost to an impressive outer wall made of stone and
curved metal.
Guards dressed in blue, gold, and black
stood at attention beside the arched entrance welcoming her stepfather and
mother in the forward carriage before waving the rest of the entourage through.
Their warm breath hung suspended in the frosty air as they acknowledged their
visitors.
Rosalind’s heart skipped a beat as their
carriage wheeled past the guards. She had never been so happy and so distraught
for a journey to end.
Her ancient, newly acquired fiancé, the
Earl of Gloucester, would arrive within a fortnight for the wedding, planned
for Christmas Day. Feeling as though she received a lump of coal in her
stocking, a shiver of revulsion skated down her spine when his wrinkled face
and snowy white hair popped into her head. Bushy white eyebrows dipped low over
dull brown eyes accompanied by thin lips and nose. An inch shorter in stature
then she, with a rounded belly and hunched shoulders, he hobbled when he walked
because of swelling in his left foot.
When she left this glorious abode, she
would do so as his wife. Anxiety twisted a knot in her stomach as she shoved
the thought aside.
Two London seasons, a handful of
half-hearted suitors, and a less-than-favorable reputation later, she received
one proposal, his, a fifty-four-year-old widower anxious to make her his brood
mare.
She often wondered where the term “love
of my life” originated from. Did one have more than one? She concluded one must
after taking her mother into consideration. Mama claimed Rosalind’s father held
the title until his untimely death, and following her marriage to Lord Timothy
Weston, now claimed her stepfather to be her one true love. Thus, reason
dictated each person must have at last two, perhaps more. And if there were so
many about, why had she not run into at least one of hers?
“Is this Cousin Lucius’ castle?”
Her five-year-old half-brother’s question
jerked her back to the present as he squinted his nose at the drawbridge. “If I
knew we were this close, I would have waited to stop.”
The heavy wooden beams groaned under the
weight of the carriage.
One of the many reasons her stepfather
and mother traveled in their own carriage with Rosalind and Thomas in another
had to do with her brother’s frequent stops to relieve his bladder and constant
chatter. When her
brother grew bored, he invented reasons
to stretch his legs. She would join him if not for the fact she must behave as
a lady.
Shaking her head, she replied, “Next
time, be patient.”
He gave her an eye roll and studied the
scenery with interest. “Do you think Cousin Lucius has a pond?”
Gazing at his angelic face, she smiled.
The child’s big blue eyes stole her heart the second he appeared in this world
as a tiny babe, and she held him in her arms for the first time. She alone
possessed the fortitude to
deal with his precocious behavior.
“Papa says he does.” Although Lord
Timothy did not father her, she called him Papa since she had no recollection
of her real father.
“If I had patience, I would not have
found Admiral Georgeous Frederick Alexander Junior the Third.” A wiggly,
croaking object appeared from the inner pocket of his jacket, clutched tight in
a chubby hand.
Rosalind’s eyebrow rose. “Who? What is
this? You caught a frog?”
He nodded with a wide grin and set the
amphibian down on his best linen trousers.
She frowned in alarm. “He will ruin your
breeches and make Mama upset. Put him back in your pocket until I decide what
must be done.”
Their carriage rumbled across
cobblestones once more and drew to a stop. She shot a quick glance out the
window, noting the parents disembarking. Somehow, she must deal with the frog
before his presence became known or risk her mother’s fury.
Frowning out the window, she eyed red
carpeted stairs leading upward to a tall, dark-haired figure wearing a royal
blue jacket with gold braids on the
shoulders and black breeches standing
cold and aloof at the top. A regal white and gray dog sat at attention beside
the duke, eyeing the newcomers.
The gentleman must be Cousin Lucius, the
Duke of Weston. His face remained expressionless, and his manner impeccable as
the parents approached. Then with a slight nod of his head, his grace welcomed
them to Weston. The dog lay still like a statue, and the only movement arose
from the breeze ruffling his thick fur.
The parents spoke with the duke for a
moment, and then her mother dipped an elegant bow low enough to impress royalty
while her stepfather shook hands with the impressive figure before them.
Masculine, powerful, wealthy, and distant
Lucius Alexander Phillip Weston became the fifth Duke of Weston five years
prior upon the death of his
grandfather. As head of the Weston
family, the duke invited one relative per holiday season to stay at his castle.
This season, their turn arrived with an
extravagant and very expensive, gilded invitation signed by the duke’s own
hand. Fortuitous considering her recent engagement? Perhaps. Rosalind suspected
the duke invited them out of sheer despair at the thought of opening another of
her mother’s hundred-and-one letters begging for the honor.
Mama obsessed over impressing Rosalind’s
fiancé and exaggerated their financial situation to the point a wedding in the
castle was necessary to keep the earl from guessing the true nature of their
circumstance. Her
mother believed if the earl had knowledge
of their lack of funds, he would withdraw his proposal, and she would be pitied
by the local nobility for failing to obtain an advantageous marriage for her
only daughter.
Frantic to maintain the façade and her
social position in their little village, she sent a new letter every day,
entreating her husband’s distant cousin to allow them the privilege of the
upcoming nuptials.
The present returned with a bump when the
parents turned and motioned toward their carriage. What if the dog smelled the
frog? Panic flared as she gazed from her brother to his wiggling, jumping
companion still sitting in his lap and returned to the forbidding scene on the
stairs. The amphibian must go.
“Mama and Papa want to make a good
impression on his grace. You must leave the admiral in the carriage so we do
not disappoint them.”
“But he is part of the family now. Why
can he not meet Cousin Lucius?” The boy held his pet up to her nose as he asked
his question.
“Your friend might shock the parents
since he is so new to our household. Put him on the carriage seat, and we will
return for him later.” She jumped when the carriage door opened, and a footman
set the step stool on
the ground, holding his hand out to offer
her assistance.
“But I want him to come!” The boy’s voice
grew in volume, and his lower lip stuck out, threatening a fullblown mutiny.
If Thomas did not calm down, Mama would
scorch her ears later. “Fine.” Thinking quick, she stuffed the frog into the
left pocket of her gown where she could monitor the situation and hopefully
hide the scent from the great beast beside the duke. “He shall ride with me.
Now behave.”
The child’s rebellion disappeared like a
foul scent in the breeze, followed by another wide grin as they stepped from
the carriage. “You should call the duke cousin, too. I am sure he will not
mind.”
Mama frowned. “Who, Thomas? Who will not
mind?” Casting a quick worried glance in Rosalind’s direction, she took two
steps toward them.
“Everything is fine, Mama. Thomas
expressed his opinion. Nothing more.” She kept her hand against her pocket to
hide the wiggling bulge and prayed no one would notice.
Her mother visibly relaxed and held her
hand out to the boy. “Come.” Catching her brother by the hand, she turned to
their host. “Your grace, I would like to introduce you to our son, Thomas
Hutchinson Weston.”
Rosalind stopped a foot behind and waited
her turn, her gaze on the dog
To his credit, the child executed a
perfect bow in response to the duke’s deep voice bidding him welcome to the
castle.
“And this?” The deep voice drew her gaze
to his, and her knees clacked together as their host’s gaze lingered on her
hair and face before perusing the rest of her.
Stepping forward, she swallowed and
waited for the parents to make the introduction.
The duke stood six feet tall if an inch,
possessed dark wind-swept hair, piercing blue eyes, a broad forehead, straight
nose, and a dimple in his chin. His jacket emphasized the breadth of his
shoulders and the
narrowness of his waist. His muscled
thighs strained against the fabric of his breeches, and his boots gleamed in
the sunlight. No man of this caliber had stood this close to her before, and
Rosalind snapped her gaping
mouth closed, dropping her gaze before
her expression gave her fascination away.
“Lady Rosalind Chatham, daughter of my
wife’s late husband, the Earl of Chatham.” Papa stood beside her, gripping her
elbow.
She dipped a deep curtsy, and the frog
jumped in alarm, straining against the fabric of her pocket.
The dog let out a low growl, and cold
sweat broke out on her forehead.
The duke’s cool, impassive gaze dropped
to the pocket of her gown while he snapped his fingers at the animal beside
him. “Silence, Ulysses.”
The white beast did not make another
sound but kept his gaze fixed on her pocket.
Clasping her hand against the opening to
keep the amphibian from escaping, she rose to her feet and pinched the edges of
the fabric together with her left hand, hoping she adopted a believable level
of disinterest in the dancing fabric at her hip. Casting a worried glance at
the dog, she smiled, ignoring the panic in her chest.
Mama would never forgive her if something
went amiss, and this situation contained enough potential to effect ancestors
yet unborn. She inched backward, praying the breeze blew her scent away from
the massive dog, not toward him.
“Do not be shy, Rosalind.” Mama nudged
her forward, and with her attention on the dog, she tripped on a stair.
“Ah, the bride.” The duke’s gaze traveled
over her a second time, and a smile touched his mouth. “Welcome to my home,
Lady Rosalind.” He bowed from the waist and took her right hand in his, kissing
her gloved
knuckles.
The dog leaned forward, staring at her
pocket.
“I call her Ruby. She is my sister.”
Thomas stepped to her side to establish ownership, tugging on her left hand,
the one holding her pocket closed, and glared up at the duke.
To her extreme consternation. she lost
her grip on the edges of the fabric, and Admiral Georgeous Frederick Alexander
Junior the Third made his debut into the family by jumping out onto the duke’s
bent
windswept hair!
Everyone reacted at once.
The dog barked and leaped at the duke,
jumping around his master for a better vantage point.
Anxious to contain the situation,
Rosalind made a dive for the frog while Mama screamed for help. Thomas yelled
and dove in to retrieve his pet at the same time she did. They hit heads,
falling to the ground in a heap. She
groaned in frustration.
Papa burst out laughing, offering no
assistance whatsoever, to Mama’s verbal dismay.
While the duke snapped his finger at the
dog, captured the amphibian with one hand, and surveyed the group before him as
if this were a common occurrence.
“Heel, Ulysses.”
The dog whined and dropped to his belly,
keeping his gaze on the frog.
The liveried butler, two steps behind,
hurried to the duke’s side to relieve him of the green wiggling creature while
Papa continued to chuckle, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
“You owe me twenty gold coins, Amelia. We
have not been here a full ten minutes, and already we have an incident.”
Her mother sputtered apologies as she
fluttered around the duke, trying to help but unwilling to touch the loathsome
creature he held. She gave the dog a wide berth.
“Cease this fuss.” The duke’s quiet voice
stopped everyone mid-stride. He held his free hand down to assist Rosalind to
her feet before studying her and Thomas.
Silence filled the cobblestone area
around them as the duke gazed from one to the other. “To whom does this
creature belong?” Blue eyes narrowed on her face as he waited for her answer.
Her heart beat loud in her ears, and a
band tightened around her chest as she considered possible repercussions. His
grace might send them home in
shame. And if he did, Mama would send her
to a convent to hide her embarrassment from the world. No one wanted the social
disgrace of having a spinster for a daughter, least of all her mother. Marrying
the earl was her one chance for acceptance and approval.
Anxiety turned to nausea and rose in her
throat as her future loomed before her sending fear skittering down her spine.
The punishment would be far worse for Thomas. A convent, she could escape from,
but a boarding school for him would crush his spirit, and without her, he would
be unmanageable.
Swallowing, she lifted her chin to meet
the duke’s piercing gaze and take responsibility. “He belongs—”
She squeezed her brother’s hand, stopping
short when Thomas stepped forward.
“He is mine. Ruby kept him safe in her
pocket so he would not embarrass Mama.” The child stood with his head thrown
back, his gaze unwavering as he faced their host.
“I see.” The duke held the frog out and
glanced down at the boy. “And did you plan to carry him into my home?”
Thomas nodded. “We must because we named
him, and he is part of the family now. He cannot stay in the carriage. He will
get lonely.”
Mama groaned as if she could hold back no
longer.
“For God’s sake, Thomas, frogs do not
belong in castles nor in carriages. Really, Rosalind, I should think you would
discourage him rather than abet him in his nonsense. His grace will no doubt
want us to return home now, and I warned you of the repercussions if he did.
How can this happen when I worked so hard
to get us here?” Flushing with embarrassment, Mama dipped down in a swooning
curtsy, addressing their host. “Your grace, I do apologize for all this.”
Waving her hand toward her two children and the frog still wiggling in the
duke’s fingers. “What can we do to make this up to you?”
“May I have him back?” The boy held his
arms up to retrieve his pet, not at all repentant.
The dog whined as if unable to bear the
tension of the frog being so close and having to obey his master and stay.
Rosalind held her breath and waited as
the duke studied the boy’s face, her mother’s fawning curtsy, and Papa’s jovial
laughter. Thinking he meant to be stern with them all, he surprised her by
dropping to his haunches, becoming eye level with the child.
“You may have him on one condition. While
you are here at the castle, you must ask before you invite any more creatures
into my home whether they are part of the family or not. I like to know who
occupies my castle. Do
I have your word?”
Thomas did not hesitate. “Yes, your
grace. Thank you, Cousin Lucius.”
Their host handed the frog back to the
boy and rose to his feet. Holding out his hand to help Mama to hers, he offered
her his arm. “If I may voice my opinion, do not be too harsh with them, my
lady. The boy meant no
harm. Frogs do possess a certain charm
for lads of his age. As for Lady Rosalind, she meant to defend the boy. A kind
heart is an admiral trait in a young lady.”
Mama gaped and then snapped her mouth
closed as she allowed him to lead her up the stairs to the heavy entrance door
while monitoring the large dog keeping pace on the duke’s other side. “I pray
you feel as lenient
toward us by the time we leave, your
grace.”
Papa fell in behind them, clasping his
hands behind his back as he strolled along, still chuckling. “I agree, Lucius.
Both with you and my wife. I remember a time or two we were sent to our
chambers for such antics.”
“Quite right.”
The three approached the open door to the
castle and disappeared inside.
Rosalind followed, bemused by the way
their host dealt with her younger half-brother. “Come along, Thomas.” She took
his hand and hurried after the parents, trying not to envision the talk she
knew her mother planned for later. The duke may be appeased, but Mama would not
be until she had her say.
About
the Author
Virginia has always loved reading romance novels. She used
to sneak into her mom’s room as a young girl and read them while her mother was
gone. As she grew older, her reading tastes expanded to sci-fi, dystopian,
paranormal, and fantasy.
She considered becoming an author in her late
twenties but as a busy mother with toddlers, she didn’t have the time or the
energy. Later, in her fifties, she decided to give it a try and has enjoyed
every moment of it since. She recently signed her fourteenth contract and is
over the moon with excitement. Writing is truly her happy place.
Her
husband of forty-one years is her greatest support as are all her children.
Most of them are grown and carving out lives for themselves. But they are the
beat of her heart and with every grandchild, the rhythm gets stronger. She
enjoys every moment of her life and plans to live them to the fullest.
Author Links
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