Interview with Racine Weston ~ Julie Lence

 

It’s always fun (and sometimes a relief) when the characters in the book you’re writing talk to you. I’ve had secondary characters blurt out their name, and main characters take me in directions I never imagined, but never has a character talked to me as much as Racine Weston. Racine is the heroine in No Luck At All. Originally, I had written the story more toward her hero’s POV. (That would be Creel Weston.) But the 2^nd go-around, Racine took over the story and wouldn’t let go. Right from the beginning, she had so much heartache built up inside her and needed for me to not only help her find the strength to confide in Creel, but to help her find a path to peace.  

Here, Racine sits down with me on a pretty spring afternoon to answer some of my questions.       

Thank you for meeting with me, Racine. What can you tell me about Creel?  What did you think the 1^st time you saw him?

Papa is a well-known doctor in Boston. He’s also a teacher. Every year he hosts a dinner party for his interns, and every year I beg off attending, but Papa insists I join the festivities. I don’t know why. Mama says my scars are hideous and scare off every man I meet. I can’t argue that, because she’s right, so I arrive at the party more than fashionably late and find a chair in the corner where I can keep to myself. It’s much easier this way. Papa’s interns don’t have to feign an interest in me, and I don’t have to pretend they overlook my appearance. But this year, Papa is guiding a man toward me. And not just any man. He’s tall, heavily muscled, and just about the handsomest man in all of Boston, maybe the entire world. He smiles at me when Papa makes introductions, and asks for a dance. Suddenly, my throat is dry… and my stomach is somersaulting in a most peculiar way.           

What was your 2^nd thought?

That Papa should examine me, because I must have caught an illness. Never have I felt this way. Then again, never have I seen eyes that pretty on a man. Or thrilled to the sound of a deep voice. But as Creel waltzed us around Mama’s ballroom, his heated gaze bore into me, and I changed my mind about Papa examining me. Papa should examine Creel, for surely he was the one with poor eye sight and feeling ill.     

How did Creel convince you he wasn’t ill?  

He wrangled for the seat beside me at supper and engaged me in conversation on a variety of subjects. When someone thought to interrupt, he glowered at them, and then returned his attention to me. At the end of the evening, he asked Papa’s permission to call upon me tomorrow morning. Papa approved, and the next day, Creel whisked me away in a carriage for a picnic in the park. After that, when he wasn’t in class or studying or working his job at the docks, he was with me… Hideous me! We went everywhere together; the theater, restaurants, the park again. Always he held my hand and treated me like a lady. And then, he proposed. I felt as though I was walking on air, but our wedding night, he changed. And not for the better. Deep down I feared I had made a grave mistake, that I shouldn’t accompany him to his home in Colorado. But, with Mama loathing me and shooing me out the door faster than one can blink an eye, I wasn’t sure if I should trust my heart or trust what I know.           

What did you do?

I followed my heart and boarded the train with Creel, hoping he would forget his disdain with me and love me again. Some days he was sweet and kind. Other days he barely tolerated me. His was definitely a Jekyll-Hyde personality, but at the Denver hotel, he accused me of blackmailing him into marrying me and scheming my way back to Boston. Of course, he was wrong, but something inside hinted didn’t believe me, that was better for him and I to part ways in Denver than later when we were both beyond miserable.      

Did you tell him you loved him?

Or course. That’s why I offered to set him free, so he’d have a life of happiness. Not a life of misery. 

How did he react? 

In a manner I never would’ve likened to him. 

To find out exactly what Creel did, and if Racine finds the peace she longs for, grab a copy of their story and start reading today. Available only at Amazon.

www.amazon.com/dp/B0064R6NVI

 

Meet Racine Weston from No Luck At All

Since I’m not releasing a novel or short story this year, I thought I’d introduce you to Racine Weston, my heroine from No Luck At All. Racine is very sweet-natured and my easiest heroine to write. Once she opened her mouth, she took over the story. In her own words, find out more about her:

Hello. I'm Racine, the youngest daughter of wealthy and respected Boston doctor, Donald Somerfield, and his socialite wife, Katherine. Mama hated me from the moment I was born. She had it in her mind that Papa wanted a son, and when I came out a fourth daughter, she blamed me for that mishap. She swore she would not jeopardize her figure and looks again to bear papa another child, moved into her own bedroom, and handed me and my care over to the servants.

My toddler years, I found it unbearable to not have Mama's love and acceptance. My sisters, Valeen, Victoria and Valerie did. Mama would fuss over them, take them shopping and plan parties for them. She did none of that with me, which made me try all sorts of ways to gain her approval, none of which worked. I only earned her 'rolling' of the eyes, a stern lecture on how I was disobedient and very unladylike, and words of how no one would ever like me. I was unlovable.

I found that last part hard to believe. Papa loved me and spent as much time with me as his doctor duties allowed. Even the servants seemed to enjoy my company. Then one day, on a whim to make mama happy, I went to her flower garden to pick her some flowers. A stray dog leapt out from under the bushes and attacked me. His paw clawed my cheek and Papa had to stitch three deep cuts. When the bandages were removed, I had three long, red, ugly scars. Papa swore they would fade in time, But I knew that wasn't true. Every year, they got bigger, more noticeable--this was proven when I overheard my sisters beg Mama to keep me hidden from their friends. They said I was hideous and would scare away the other girls.

After that, I took to spending a lot of time in my room, alone. The maids took pity on me and taught me how to sew. Sophie, our cook, taught me how to prepare delicious meals. My skills flourished under their guidance. Even Papa was impressed with the curtains I sewed for his den.

The years passed and I reached an age where Papa insisted I attend the dinner parties he held for his interns. I wanted nothing to do with socializing and retreated to my room on those occasions. One night, Papa ordered me to attend a dinner. Grudgingly, I did, and kept to the shadows most of the evening until one man asked me to dance. I wanted to decline his offer, but his warm smile drew me to him as his hand drew me out of the corner. I'm thankful I didn't refuse him, for that night I met and fell in love with the most handsome, heavily muscled, kind hearted man to ever exist―Creel Weston.

Creel courted me relentlessly. He took me to the park, to dinner, and for strolls around Mama's flower gardens. He told me he loved me and wanted me to marry him. Part of me believed him. The other part was unsure, until he stood beside me at the altar, said his vows, and gave me a ring. I've never been so happy, and then that happiness disappeared as before my eyes Creel went from warm and caring to a cad on the eve of our wedding.

I don't know what brought about the change in him, but I have a good idea. Somehow, he came to the conclusion he can’t bear looking at me and my hideous scars for the rest of his life. Though he'd never once commented on them, I gathered the preacher joining us together for all eternity sparked feelings in him he never knew existed. I can’t blame him―I am ugly. But I can hope for some semblance of comfort and accord between us. I thought I had found that after Creel and I hashed out some misunderstandings. But now, an old friend from Creel's childhood claims he loves her. After replaying some events over and over in my mind, and pitting Amy's beauty and refinement against my scars and lack of elegance, I fear she is right in that Creel loves her and not me.

No Luck At All is the 3^rd book in the Weston Family series and available for purchase at Amazon:

www.amazon.com/dp/B0064R6NVI

Weston Family Series:

Luck of the Draw  www.amazon.com/dp/B0063VOS4E

Lady Luck  www.amazon.com/dp/B0063WCXO0

Bring Me Luck  www.amazon.com/dp/B00OP5PT2U