Underground Inspiration.

My name is Grace Elliot and I have two passions in life: writing and cats. I’m incredibly fortunate because my job as a veterinarian enables me to work with cats all day, and then at night I write – with Widget, my ‘writer’s’ cat, snuggled against my leg. My genre is historical romance which I love because of the horses, handsome men and gorgeous gowns – such great escapism from the pressures of modern living.
“Eulogy’s Secret” is my second novel, a story of greed, prejudice and stolen identity – and I’d love to share a little of the original idea behind the story.
The idea behind “Eulogy’s Secret” sprang from a poster glimpsed on the London underground as I took my sons to the theatre. As the train doors closed, through the scratched glass a dark poster caught my eye, with the word “Elegy” printed across it in large spidery letters. (I found out later the poster was advertising a classical music concert.) I couldn’t get that one word “elegy” out of my head, and after it had tumbled round in my brain for a while it became “Eulogy”. Then it struck me – what a fantastically enigmatic name for a heroine.
The name Eulogy has an aura of sadness about it, a sense of loss and honour and in the way that only a writer does, I chewed away at who would call their daughter “Eulogy” and the circumstances leading to such a name.
The dictionary definition of a eulogy is a speech or writing in praise of a person, especially at a funeral. So whoever named a child thus, must have suffered a great loss…perhaps the mother died in child birth…. but what if there was another, even greater sadness, perhaps some crushing cruelty that separated the child from her home? And so “Eulogy’s Secret” was born.
That said, “Eulogy’s Secret” is not a depressing read, far from it. It’s a story of the triumph of trust and of true love finding a way, a story with humour and compassion that celebrates the human spirit to seek justice.

In this excerpt, Eulogy is rescued by a passing stranger, Jack Huntley.

Her face was pale as the moon, with large dark eyes brimming with tears. Huntley’s heart sank. Just what he needed! An over-emotional woman on his hands.
“Madam, are you hurt?”
“A bit bruised. More injured pride than anything.” She managed a shaky smile. Shrouded in a travelling cloak, he couldn’t make out her features, but she had the voice of a young woman.
“Good.” Huntley straightened, hoping that with any luck he could be on his way in minutes. His expression brightened. This might even work out in his favor. What better excuse for being late than rescuing a damsel in distress? He glanced up and down the road. “So where is your chaperone? I assume he went for help?”
The woman hung her head. “I am alone. There is no one.”
Huntley glared. Well-spoken with a country accent, she was hardly a woman of the street and yet behaved like one. “Are you mad? What on earth possessed you?”
She tilted her chin, dark eyes bright with pride. “I had no choice. Now, I thank you most sincerely for your assistance.” She brushed distractedly at the mud on her cloak. “I make no further call on your time.”
Huntley frowned. Was he being dismissed, and after all that he had done? “But, you’re not detaining me.”
“I think I am.”
Bemused, Huntley watched her dust down her cloak, preparing to go. She seemed a determined chit. “Wait! You’ve been attacked once already tonight. On my conscience, I cannot let you proceed alone.”
She stopped.
“Where are you heading?”
Slowly, her wide bright eyes lifted to meet his and his heart leapt in his chest.
“Sir, perchance you know of a lodging house hereabouts?”
He pushed away baser thoughts and concentrated on the business in hand.
“You’ve been robbed. Have you sufficient funds?”
Silence.
“I…I…” She started to sway. “I feel a little faint…”
In a heartbeat, Huntley was at her side to catch her as she fell. As he scooped her up, cradling her limp form against his broad chest, a strange possessiveness engulfed him. She weighed no more than a child and her hair smelt of herbs. She seemed fragile, and yet so vibrant and alive. Shaken, he made for the steps and sat, nursing her head against his shoulder. He was surprised by the soft silkiness of her hair and suddenly felt undone, a sharp ache twisting through his chest.

If you would like to know more please visit:
http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com
or
www.com/graceelliot/grace-elliot
I am also offering one ebook copy of “Eulogy’s Secret” – for a chance to win simply leave a comment. (The winner to be selected at random.)
Grace x

BUY LINKS.
Smashwords.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/97616

Amazon US
http://www.amazon.com/Eulogys-Secret-Huntley-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B005XD5IBA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1319122129&sr=1-1