Meet Sandra Masters, a fellow Wild Rose romance author. She writes Regency romance. When she’s not in front of her computer writing passionate steamy novels, she can be found in the kitchen cooking way too much food to share with friends and family. One of her specialties is Rusticana Italiano Meatballs and Red Gravy from scratch. Take it away, Sandra…
Challenges in getting first book published:
I was fortunate to choose only The Wild Rose Press to submit to. The editor assigned to me was Cindy Davis and she took great pains to tell me how to improve my work. Her faith spurred me on and on the third submittal, I got my first contract. That was in September 2015. Moral to the story: Be humble, accept criticism, and be grateful for those who help you.
How much research do I go for each book?
For the Regency Historical book series, (Six novels), I’ve researched for hours and sometimes months, to get the period era correct. I’ve double checked with members of the RWA Beau Monde Chapter, and believe it is all the small details that lend to its creditability.
Is there any particular book authors who influenced me?
Judith McNaught with Whitney, My Love.
And all of Mary Balogh’s Regency books, especially, Simply Dangerous.
They made my heart sing.
What other genres do I write?
Contemporary, but Book Six of the Duke Series, is a Regency Fantasy Supernatural Romance, a definite departure and challenge. Just love this book. Sent it o my publisher and it’s titled, THE BLUE-EYED BLACK-HEARTED DUKE, so I’m waiting to hear the hopefully good news.
I’m also planning a three-book novella series – Saints, Sinners and Scoundrels.
What was my favorite phrase about One Night With A Duke?
“What would I have to do,” she asks. He answers: “I leave that to your resourcefulness…and mine…under a starlit night with nothing but our naked imaginations.” “Sweet heaven,” she muttered.
Advice to aspiring authors:
Rule #1 – Never give up.
Rule #2 – Never forget rule #1.
Fall in love with Romance all over again
From a humble beginning in Newark, New Jersey, a short stay at a convent in Morristown, N.J. at the age of fourteen, Sandra Masters retired from a fantastic career for a play broadcasting company in Carlsbad, California, and settled in the rural foothills of the Sierras of Yosemite National Park with her husband, Ron, and two dogs, Silky and Sophie. She traded in the Board Rooms for the Ballrooms of the Regency Era and never looked back.
She wrote her first book at the age of thirteen and since then she’s always traveled with pen and notebook for her writing experiences. It’s been the journey of ten thousand miles with a few steps left to go. She deemed it a pleasure to leave the corporate world behind decades later.
Nothing she expected, but everything she desired. Her business card lists her occupation as Living The Dream.
Reclusive, cold as ice, the politically powerful Raven, Duke of Ravensmere, denies love after the tragic deaths of his duchess and baby. He is bound by his vow never to allow love to enter his heart again. Samantha Winston permits him to seek refuge in her carriage in a time of need, and what started as a kiss in the name of safety, becomes something more pleasurable and not so safe after all. In spite of every caution, his interest escalates into unexpected desire.
Samantha, a young widow with a secret, irreverent and high-spirited, has constructed impenetrable walls against all men. When she and Raven meet again, strong wills clash. Political intrigues and a dreaded nemesis place his life at risk, and Samantha finds herself in a dire predicament. All the while, passion soars.
Can Samantha’s barriers fall with more kisses?
Can Raven be released from his deathbed vow?
ONE NIGHT WITH A DUKE “I have no husband, Your Grace.” She spoke in an assured tone, but to his ears, it sounded like a siren’s call to temptation.
He did not expect the ruffle of her fan tap to his cheek. A light one, it surprised him. “Does that mean you will meet me?”
The provocative look in her eyes wielded its power, “Yes.”.
His hand went to his cheek and an amused chuckle rose to the trees. “Touché.”
“Don’t be late.” She flicked open her fan.
“Hah, you are dismissed.”
“Hah,” she laughed back. “You’ll find I don’t dismiss easily.” With a wide swoop of her silk skirts, she turned away; her heels punctuated the stone floor, and she never looked back.
The mirth of her laughter appealed to him. He closed his eyes in contemplation of his head between her full breasts—soon. The pang in his groin elevated his desire. Damnation, he never experienced such a thrill.
Obsession, a word he disdained, came to mind. What does a man do with an obsession? He answered his question…I give in.
The amazement of her action with her fan amazed and stilled him. Like fine wine or cognac, she would not disappoint. This gave him delightful food for thought. What else would that fan do?