I am so delighted to have Noelle Clark on my blog to help celebrate her latest release, Honor's Debt. Noell is a writing buddy of mine and has such a lovely way of putting words together. She's also grandma to new twins who have just joined her ever expanding family. Let's find out more about Noell and Honor's Debt.

What were the elements that triggered the storyline of HONOR’S DEBT?

I originally was going to write about a girl who attended the annual Matchmaking Festival which has been held in a tiny village called Lisdoonvarna for more than 150 years. It draws crowds of over 20,000 each year, and the original weekend has now been extended to a month long celebration of Irish music, dancing, drinking, and was originally the only opportunity for farmers to meet eligible girls.

I was cajoled into attending the event with two other friends a couple of years ago. All, ahem, mature-aged women, we weren’t interested in finding the love of our life, but we went for the craic – the fun – and we all love traditional Irish music.

The first draft of Honor’s Debt had Honor going to the festival. But then I scrapped that idea and went with the plot I ended up with. But…my two friends who attended Lisdoonvarna festival with me can’t rest easily just yet…I plan to one day write about our adventures, or rather misadventures, at the Matchmaking Festival.

What’s your favourite scene in the book?

Gosh. I have several favourites. The last chapter still makes me cry every time I read it. Can you believe that? It’s definitely a Happy Ever After, but it’s sweet. So that one is probably my favourite, although I think the scene with the Bucks and Hens parties takes the cake for being fun.

The characters from HONOR’S DEBT are coming for dinner – what would you cook for them?

The men of Robinhill Farm are big eaters. They love wholesome food, especially lamb roasts. I’d do a roast dinner with all the trimmings, jugs of gravy, lashings of crispy roast vegetables, and definitely a dessert or pudding to follow.

 Do you have a writing routine or a special place you like to create your novels? 

Yes, I have a desk in my office that overlooks a lovely bushy part of my garden. Right now the shrub I call ‘Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow’ is in bloom. Smells gorgeous. Don’t know the botanical name though. Here’s a photo.

If you were shipwrecked on a deserted island which character would you want with you and why?

Oh dear. There are several drop-dead gorgeous men on Robinhill Farm, and the neighbouring farm called An Mullach. They all have very different personalities. I think Sean would be my pick.

Was there a point where you realised yes, I am a writer!? 

This is my fifth published book, with an Anthology coming out very shortly, plus I’m contracted for books two and three of the Robinhill Series. I do consider myself an author/writer now, but only when I’m mingling with my other writer friends. People in the ‘real’ world don’t seem to realise how much hard work and dedication it takes to write a book, and then see it through the long process of publication.

You’re in a bar and they’ve called your name for karaoke – what song do you sing?

I’ve had this happen to me. I sang ‘Leaving on a Jet Plane.’ I chose that because I’m a Sagittarian and I have a very healthy dose of wanderlust. 

What does your ideal Sunday morning look like?

My ideal Sunday starts with a coffee, sipped slowly on the front patio while I glance through the Sunday paper. Then a friend or family phones and says, let’s go out for brekky. There’s a nice little place not far from home where you can eat breakfast overlooking the water. After that, a stroll through the art and craft shops, book stores, and a walk with my dogs, pretty much is the perfect day.

Finish this statement: People often underestimate the power of...

…positive affirmation. Negativity and low expectations help no one.

Finish this statement: I feel most magical when...

…I read a scene that I wrote some time ago, and it surprises me with its beauty.

While the ink on HONOR’S DEBT is barely dry – do you have another story for us in the pipeline? Please spill the beans!

Most definitely. Book two in the Robinhill Series is already on its way. It’s called Honor’s Promise. That may change before publication, but that’s the working title. It will be out in March. Book three is called Honor’s Legacy and will be released in July.

To top that off, I’ve written a short Christmas story for inclusion in the anthology called A Season to Remember. This is a collaborative effort with three other author friends – Susanne Bellamy, Elizabeth Ellen Carter, and yourself, Eva. We’ve had a ball putting this project together and will gift it to our readers as a free download from 28th November.

Blurb:

On a quest to make amends for a long-ago indiscretion, Honor unexpectedly discovers the one thing she’s been missing in her life.

Honor Quirk arrives in Ireland excited—and a bit anxious—about meeting up with the estranged family of her late great-grandmother. The welcome from the residents of Robinhill Farm, Dermot and Bryan, is confusing and far from comforting. One is warm, the other aggressive. The outwardly antagonistic Bryan makes it very clear he doesn't want her there, branding her a gold digger.

Dermot, on the other hand, is delighted to meet her.

But Honor is no pushover and stands up to Bryan, letting him know that his bad attitude and trail of baggage have nothing to do with her. Despite their confrontational and hostile relationship, an undeniable attraction to each other creeps insidiously into the house on Robinhill Farm. They both desperately try to stifle the sparks, but living under the same roof makes it impossible. Unable to cope with the turmoil of living with Bryan, Honor runs away, straight into the arms of a charming newfound friend, Sean, who offers her a home—and love.

Shattered, Bryan finally takes control of his irrational belief that all women are evil, and fights to bring back the woman he loves. But is it too late?

Extract

The sound of a noisy vehicle coming to an abrupt stop outside made them both look up.

“That’ll be himself now.” Dermot stood, the smile that seemed to so easily grace his face suddenly gone. He went to refill the kettle then, as if on impulse, turned back to look at her. “Now, don’t you go worryin’ about Bryan, okay?”

The kitchen door opened and a shadow fell into the room. Honor glanced up to see the doorway totally filled by the silhouette of a tall, muscular man wearing dark clothing. His features were impossible to see, but a shiver rippled its way up her spine as the hulking figure oozed bad vibes in her direction. He didn’t move, just stood there.

The room seemed to tremble as his deep, resonant voice entered the small space of the kitchen.

“So, if it isn’t the crazy English tourist who can’t drive. I take it you’re lost now, and asking for directions.” He paused and his dark gaze flicked from Dermot’s to hers, obviously taking in the scene before him. “Well, if this isn’t a picture of perfect domesticity. Bacon and eggs?” His mocking tone stung and he stood, still blocking the doorway.

She glanced at Dermot whose face showed no trace of the relaxed, affable man of a few minutes ago. Instead, he looked at her for a second then over at the man in the doorway.

“Oh won’t ye come in now Bryan. Come and meet Honor.” Dermot reached over and picked up another cup and saucer from the sideboard behind him and placed it on the table. His voice was somehow different. “There’s still another cup in the pot.” He picked up the teapot and swilled its contents around, then poured it into the empty cup. The air in the kitchen had suddenly got very cold.

Slowly, the hulk in the doorway moved and entered the room. She gasped as she recognized him. The jet-black, short-cropped hair and beard, the strong jawline, those black eyes…now she understood what he meant about the mad English woman. A shiver ran through her as she realized that things had, all of a sudden, taken a turn for the worse. Ill-humor darkened his face, his eyes smouldered with disdain, and his countenance was most unfriendly. She took a deep breath and, even though her knuckles under the table were white from squeezing, her voice came out strong.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Bryan.” She extracted one hand and held it out to him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight tremor of her fingers. A flash of uncertainty showed in his eyes, ever so slightly. Good, he’s not as tough as he’d like to think.

His large paw reached out and took hers to give it an almighty squeeze. She couldn’t tell if the pain was meant to be a punishment, or whether he always shook hands like that. Whatever it was, it was certainly a different welcome from the warmth and affection she’d received from Dermot. She stared at his long fingers, the dusting of black hairs on the back of his hand and his olive skin.

“Here, Bryan.” Dermot handed him the cup and saucer. Bryan released her hand and wrapped it delicately around the fine china. The man’s a litany of opposites, she thought, vacillating from harsh to gentle in a heartbeat.

“Can I cook you some breakfast?” Dermot’s friendly smile was back. Honor breathed a sigh of relief and took a sip of tea.

Bryan pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her, staring at her with a mixture of loathing, curiosity and familiarity. Dermot busied himself at the gas range and the sound and aroma of bacon sizzling on a hot pan once again filled the small kitchen.

“Honor.” His voice, deep, almost a growl, sounded like it came from way down in his boots. “I’m truly sorry about your car. I’ll pay to have it fixed.” There was no doubting the sincerity of his words. Relief swept through her. She glanced at Dermot who, although curious, seemed obviously pleased that Bryan was now being sociable.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Those narrow roads are really something, aren’t they?” She held his black eyes with hers, never blinking. “I appreciate your apology, but I think the insurance will cover it.”

A deep frown transformed his face. Did she imagine it, or did he glower at her now? Maybe he’s not used to women standing up to him, she thought.

Dermot broke the awkward silence as he placed a plate, piled high with shiny, steaming bacon rashers and fried eggs, in front of Bryan. “I’ll make ye some toast.”

Bryan’s eyes held hers as he responded. “Thanks, Derm. I could eat a horse.” A small sigh escaped his lips and he broke the intense gaze and turned his eyes to the meal before him. He grabbed the knife and fork and attacked the food.

The kettle on the gas hob began to whistle, the toaster popped, and the telephone rang. Honor, breaking her fixated stare at this brutish man, snapped into action. She grabbed the teapot, whisked off its woollen jacket and took it over to the kettle. While she busied herself adding tea leaves and filling it with boiling water, she glanced back over her shoulder. Bryan shovelled food into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Dermot chatted on the phone, something about a delivery of lucerne bales. She placed the now filled teapot on the table, grabbed the toast and placed it next to Bryan.

He looked up at her and again their eyes held. This time, though, she noticed that some of the fire had gone out. In fact, he appeared tired. Exhausted. There were fine lines etched at the corners, near the place where his thick, dark brows ended and his beard began.

“Your eyes. You have Dermot’s eyes.”

She stared, unblinking, as his deep voice resonated in her ears. It was as though he had two personalities, she mused. For some strange reason, she felt a surge of tenderness for this aggressive, bad-tempered, beast of a man.

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About Noelle Clark

Noelle Clark is an Australian author of contemporary romance and historical novels. Her books weave romance, intrigue, and adventure into colourful and often exotic locations around the world. Widely travelled, Noelle uses real life experience of places, culture, and people, as a backdrop to her stories, giving the reader an authentic taste of the location. Her novels feature strong, mature, heroines and heroes, who—often without knowing it—are ready for new beginnings.

 She lives close to the sea and shares her home with two cats and two dogs. She has two grown up children, and five very small grandchildren. When Noelle's not writing and travelling, she plays guitar, tends her vegetable garden, enjoys the company of family and friends, and—of course—reading.

Contact Links

• Website www.noelleclark.net

• Facebook www.facebook.com/NoelleClark.Author

• Twitter @noelle_clark

• Amazon www.amazon.com/Noelle-Clark/e/B00CENUDLC

• Goodreads www.goodreads.com/author/show/7046284.Noelle_Clark

Buy Links

Available for pre-order now from Secret Cravings Publishing online store and Amazon.

Available from all other online retailers November 13th, 2014.