I’d like to thank Lady Fury (and Shehanne of course) for popping by with her thoughts on Judith and Artemisia (art and history, hurrah!) You can catch up on where to find the lovely lady herself at the end of this interview – along with a gorgeous excerpt from The Unraveling of Lady Fury.
Judith or Artemisia who would you choose?
Firstly I want to thank Alison for inviting me along. Her blog consistently is composed of beautiful. Of course I say nothing about myself in that regard. But I am so grateful to her, not just for allowing me to continue my blog tour, but for guessing the places on this other little tour I am on, I want her to be first to see my latest Where Am I Now postcard?
I know she will guess it. Although there are aspects of it and its place in the book I was very surprised about myself. It comes into the category of thinking on one’s high heeled slippers.
It is sort of what I am doing here, having gotten rid of Shehanne and following on from my little blog about Mary Shelley and Genoa where she didn’t want me showing you the sights.
Especially the organ grinder at Porto Antica.
Artemisia Gentileschi is who I want to speak of today. Please do not say Artemisia who when she was an Italian Baroque painter, today considered one of the most accomplished painters in the generation after Caravaggio. Please go and educate yourself.
Why I want to speak of Artemisia is that she painted many pictures of strong and suffering women from myth and the Bible – victims, suicides, warriors. As you can see it is the kind of picture I would like on my wall.
Indeed my only regret is, that while Shehanne was busily crafting the kind of hanging, or painting that would make me choose a place to stay, she had not heard of Artemisia. Judith, or Holofernes either. Well, she had, she just didn’t know the full story.
Judith? Or Artemisia? Who do I like best? And why do I like them at all?
Well, Judith, like me was a widow, Holofernes an Assyrian general about to destroy her home, the city of Bethulia, which I have to say she dealt with quite nicely by seducing, then decapitating him. So I suppose you could say that again, she did what she had to do in a man’s world in order to survive. (A little…ahem..like myself.)
Artemisia? That she was a woman painting in the 17th century, that she was raped and participated in prosecuting the rapist. How can I not love her, when I see her struggle to survive that same world, where she was regarded as the curiosity? (Ahem…saying nothing about myself here, although I am sure Flint would.)
You know I really can’t make my mind up.
“No, docile’s hardly the word for you. It never was.”
“Why should it be?” She steadied herself. No. She would not debase herself before him. No matter how much he hurt her. “The things you did to me.”
He frowned. “What things?”
“Oh, please, allow me to spend the night telling you when I’ve nothing better to do. But since you’re asking, why don’t we start with the way you took my virginity?”
“Took it? Hell. You were giving it away.”
“So it pleased you to believe.”
“Never saw you refusing, sweetheart.” His gaze picked over her face. Then he narrowed his eyes seductively. “Leastways…” He stepped closer in that way that had always made him very dangerous. “I’m offering now to get you out this little hole you’re in.”
“I don’t need any shovel of yours for that. I’ve got myself out of more than one these past seven years, after you left me.”
“That’s not how it looks to me this time, which is why I’ve just about had enough of this. Now.” He yanked her closer, so she could feel the hard press of his body through the enveloping layers of satin and wool. “You want that heir or not?”
She almost fainted with shock. Straight to the point as ever. So straight she was appalled by what flamed in her blood, how he towered, and how his body—scent and strength—was pure, beckoning male. She had only to reach out and sweep the hair back from his face to let him take control, as he always had.
But not only did she not want her guests coming from their chambers to find him taking control against the banister or even the wall—the stairs, as she had learned last night, were not ideal—she remembered the last time he had issued a similar threat, about her wanting something or not.
Then her trunk, or rather Lady Celia’s, had landed with a thud on Fishside Wharf, displaying its contents for all to see. She did not want the Beaumont heir following suit.
She cleared her throat—if nothing else, it was an action designed to remind herself his offer was outrageous. She refused to be tempted like this.
“No. Not particularly. I believe…I believe I have said all there is to say on that subject.”
Rule One: There will be no kissing. Rule two: There will be no touching…
Widowed Lady Fury Shelton hasn’t lost everything—yet. As long as she produces the heir to the Beaumont dukedom, she just might be able to keep her position. And her secrets. But when the callously irresistible Captain James “Flint” Blackmoore sails back into her life, Lady Fury panics. She must find a way to protect herself—and her future—from the man she’d rather see rotting in hell than sleeping in her bed. If she must bed him to keep her secrets, so be it. But she doesn’t have to like it. A set of firm rules for the bedroom will ensure that nothing goes awry. Because above all else, she must stop herself from wanting the one thing that Flint can never give her. His heart.
Ex-privateer Flint Blackmoore has never been good at following the rules. Now, once again embroiled in a situation with the aptly named Lady Fury, he has no idea why he doesn’t simply do the wise thing and walk away. He knows he’s playing with fire, and that getting involved with her again is more dangerous than anything on the high seas. But he can’t understand why she’s so determined to hate him. He isn’t sure if the secret she keeps will make things harder—or easier—for him, but as the battle in the bedroom heats up, he knows at least one thing. Those silly rules of hers will have to go…
Fury can be found here:
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Shehanne can be found here:
Thank you for coming by to visit ladies! If anyone has any thoughts on Judith or Artemisia, or indeed Lady Fury, please do leave a comment.
I do know the answer to the next postcard, but my lips are sealed!