5 Things To Remember When Writing About the Victorian Era
I’m delighted to introduce A Talent for Trickery, the first
book in my new Victorian-set “Thief-takers” series. Our hero, Private
Investigator Owen Renderwell, is on the hunt for a thief and murderer. And he
knows just how to catch his man. All he needs is a little help from our
heroine, Miss Charlotte Walker-Bales. The daughter of an infamous confidence
man, Lottie is in a unique position to offer insight into the mind and motives
of a hardened criminal. There’s just one flaw in Owen’s otherwise excellent
plan. Lottie hasn’t spoken to him in eight years. She has no interest in
working alongside a man of the law, and certainly not the one who betrayed her
trust, endangered her family, and broke her heart.
A Talent For Trickery
The Thief-takers, 1
Author: Alissa Johnson
Sourcebooks Casablanca
November 3, 2015
Historical Romance
Summary
The Lady is a Thief
Years ago, Owen Renderwell earned acclaim-and a title-for the dashing
rescue of a kidnapped duchess. But only a select few knew that Scotland Yard's
most famous detective was working alongside London's most infamous thief...and
his criminally brilliant daughter, Charlotte Walker.
Lottie was like no other woman in Victorian England. She challenged him.
She dazzled him. She questioned everything he believed and everything he was,
and he has never wanted anyone more. And then he lost her.
Now a private detective on the trail of a murderer, Owen has stormed
back into Lottie's life. She knows that no matter what they may pretend, he
will always be a man of the law and she a criminal. Yet whenever he's near,
Owen has a way of making things complicated...and long for a future that can
never be theirs.
A wolf in repose didn’t cease to appear threatening—it
simply looked like something you shouldn’t wake.
She frowned at that thought and kicked the bed. She wasn’t
afraid of this man.
“Get up.”
He didn’t jump, as she’d rather hoped. Instead, he pounced,
drawing a blade from under his pillow and coming off the bed in a movement so
quick and fluid, the candle flame barely flickered. Before she could even think
to dodge out of the way, the knife was two inches from her face, gleaming sharp
and silver in the moonlight.
She merely blinked at it. “Charming.”
Owen blinked in return, the glaze of sleep lifting from his
eyes. He yanked his arm back, spinning the knife in his hand to face the blade
away from her. “God, Lottie,” he hissed. “You bloody well know better.”
Admittedly, she did. She also knew he wouldn’t hurt her,
half-awake or not.
He glared at her a moment before turning away to set the
knife on the bedside table. It bothered her a little to see the hand holding
the blade tremble slightly, but it bothered her more that she should be
bothered at all. What the devil did she care if she’d unnerved the man?
“If you damaged my linens, Renderwell, you’ll pay for their
replacement.”
Another glare, this one more irritated than angry. “You used
to be a bit more cautious.”
On the contrary, she used to be a great deal more reckless,
but she had no intention of sharing that with him. “And you. I could have done
you in a half-dozen times just now.”
“Oddly enough, I fancied myself safe here.”
“Yes, that is odd. Particularly in light of that knife.”
“Habit.”
“Habit,” she repeated dryly. “You must pay your mistresses a
fortune.”
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