Hunky Heroes In The Lair

posted by Aunty Cindy and friends

As Bandita Caren revealed in the comments earlier this week, the Bandit Lair has several levels of chambers, caverns and secret hiding places. Many of these places are occupied by Hero Hunks, who are the heroes (and sometimes villains!) of all the Banditas' various manuscripts, ideas, and Works In Progress (WIPs).

A few days ago, your old Aunty was hanging out in the lower levels and she ran into a couple of historical Hero Hunks who are about to be loosed on the reading public by two of our soon-to-be-published Banditas. Sebastian Laidley, Earl of Carleton will be appearing in Christine Wells’ “Scandal’s Daughter” in September, and Lord Nicholas Chambers will be in Donna MacMeans’ “The Education of Mrs. Brimley” in October.

Being the generous sort that she is *winks* your Aunty thought our Bandita Buddies/Readers might enjoy talking to these two rather naughty heroes BEFORE their books are released. Aunty encountered Lord Nicholas with his sketch pad, charcoal, and some refreshments in one of the not-so-secret rooms of the lair so she sat down for a little chat.

AC: Please tell us a little bit about who, where and WHEN you are. You appear to be wealthy, how did you manage that? Other family members we should know about?

NICHOLAS: I am, quite frankly, who I am. Questions about philosophy are best directed to my brother William, the Marquess of Enon. Unless, of course, you'd like to join me in a bit of brandy? [AC graciously accepts the snifter from Lord Nicholas' hand, noticing that he squeezes her fingers as he passes it to her.] Then we can discuss poetry and painting, seduction and sensuality. But you should come here, close to the fire. Our Yorkshire winters are long, cold and damp. Let me take that bulky shawl. Such lovely skin as yours should be seen, not hidden. You don't mind if I sketch while we talk? Is it too warm? [A fine sheen of perspiration shines on AC's brow but it has nothing to do with the room temperature.] Feel free to loosen a button or two. We're far from London and society's ridiculous rules. It is, after all, 1876.

AC: Lord Nicholas, I understand you are an artist, specifically a painter. Were you born with this talent? How long have you been engaged in this pursuit? And do you specialize in *ahem* risqué subjects?

NICHOLAS: If you've consulted my brother or my father, they'll tell you I'm no artist...certainly not one worthy of hanging in the Royal Academy. They'll tell you I'm more of a black sheep, as it were, hiding out in provincial Yorkshire to avoid family obligations - whatever those might be. I trust William to handle those responsibilities back in London. My sister, Arianne, understands, but she's off on some continental jaunt and thus not about to support my interests.

However the tavern women, they know me well. One needs the occasional diversion from painting landscapes, you understand. [AC does indeed!] The curves and shape of a woman's body, the play of light and shadow. God truly knew what he was about when he created the feminine form... ummmm... It's probably not a good idea to gulp that brandy, you might find it goes straight to your head... then again, let me refill your glass. [AC offers her empty snifter and this time she squeezes Lord Nicholas' fingers! OOPS! Perhaps she is a wee bit tipsy!]

Perhaps you'd consider allowing me to capture your generous spirit on my canvas? I know the villagers refer to me as "Lord Bedchambers," but I assure you, you are perfectly safe here alone without a chaperone...you don't have a chaperone, do you? [Aunty prefers not to divulge exactly how long it has been since she needed a chaperone.] No husband about to storm the manor? Ah...he trusts you. A remarkable and rare virtue, trust.

I've been trying to convince that delightful young widow at that nearby school for matrimonial-minded females to pose for me. She's resistant, but I have something that she wants. What's that you ask? [Actually, AC thinks she can guess.] Why I have knowledge...the kind of knowledge that comes from experience, lots of experience. The kind of knowledge that the young Mrs. Brimley lacks and desperately needs if she's to teach her charges what to expect on their wedding nights. How does a widow not have this knowledge, you ask? That's an excellent question, but one that she must answer. She expects much of me, you know. She expects honor and respectibility, but then, she's new to the area. Let me refill your glass... [AC hiccups and figures WHAT THE HECK? One more for the road...]

AC: All right, in keeping with Cassondra’s post on Friday, how DO you “savor the sensuous?”

NICHOLAS: Savor the sensuous - what a delightful expression. I believe that sums up my existence. I don't give a fig for society, preferring instead to savor the sensuous. Tell me -- do you know about an artist's tools?

AC: Actually, yes, because my DH is an artist too.

NICHOLAS: Have you experienced the pinch of an ox hair brush against your lovely sensitive skin, or perhaps the silky stroke of sable as it glides across areas untouched and unseen? No?

AC: Er… um… No, my DH is a sculptor.

NICHOLAS: Imagine how the tip of that sable brush would feel if it was moist, like a pair of appreciative lips. [AC begins to pant and splashes the remains of her brandy on her face.]

Aunty Cindy, you appear to be a little overheated. There's a blush on your cheeks that I assume comes from your proximity to the fire. Perhaps you should loosen a few more buttons, I'll be happy to assist...

Caren, Joan, and Jo, resplendent in their bucket boots and masks, swing in through the window to save Aunty’s virtue. Much rapier slashing and crop snapping ensues. Lord Nicholas, hugging his brandy bottle close, sneaks off to another hideaway in the lair, hoping to corner Suz or Tawny.

As of this posting, AC has not yet forgiven Caren, Joan or Jo. However, we did locate Lord Nicholas, minus his brandy bottle. Feel free to ask him some questions. You'll enjoy the answers!