Pump Up Chats with Hazel Statham

Hazel Statham photo

Hazel Statham lives in England and has been writing on and off since she was fifteen. Initially she was influenced by Austen, the Brontës, and Sabatini but when she turned seventeen, Georgette Heyer opened up the romance and elegance of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. She immediately knew she had found her eras and wanted nothing more than to re-create them in her work.   www.hazel-statham.co.uk.

 

Thank you for this interview, Hazel.  Do you remember writing stories as a child or did the writing bug come later?  Do you remember your first published piece?

I always received top marks for my essays at school but it wasn’t  until I left school at fifteen that I started to write book-length stories for my own amusement.  It wasn’t until many, many moons later that, in 2004 at the age of fifty-eight, I plucked up the courage to submit my work to a publisher – All Romance Books – who immediately accepted it.  My first published novel was Dominic.

What do you consider as the most frustrating side of becoming a published author and what has been the most rewarding?

The frustration comes when your muse deserts you and the story, for whatever reason, refuses to move forward.  The most rewarding is when you know you have written something that others enjoy.

Are you married or single and how do you combine the writing life with home life?  Do you have support?

I have been married for forty-one years.  Until my husband retired last December, I could write whenever the mood took me but, now that he is home most of the day, I am more limited in my time as I can only write when the house is quiet.

Can you tell us about your latest book and why you wrote it?

My latest book is The Portrait which was inspired by a line from a song from the film Hawks.  The singer says he wanted to be the man she thought he was and this brought about the theme of my book – a wounded hero returning from war, ending his betrothal because of his wounds.  Here is a brief blurb:

England 1812

Severely injured at the battle of Salamanca, Edward Thurston, the new Earl of Sinclair, returns home to his beloved Fly Hall. Determined not to present his prospective bride with the wreck he believes himself to have become, he decides to end his betrothal, unaware that Lady Jennifer, for vastly differing reasons, has reached the selfsame decision.

Throughout the campaigns, Edward was often seen relying greatly on a miniature he carried, and it is to this token he clings upon his return. Will he eventually find happiness with the girl in the portrait, or will he remain firm in his resolve not to wed? Reason dictates one course, his heart another.

Can you share an excerpt? Statham_ThePortrait

Ignoring his wildly leaping emotions at seeing her once more, Edward drank in the delicacy of her features and form and, gathering his cloak of resolve about him, quickly closed the gap between them.  Taking her cold fingers in his warm clasp, he raised them dutifully to his lips, feeling them tremble in his hold.  His eyes never left her face, and he realized that there was no guile about her as he watched the mix of emotions that chased across her pale countenance.  In that instant, he knew that he had made the right decision to end the betrothal. 

 “My lord, I…..” she began, but her voice failed and he saw the tears well up into her beautiful eyes. 

“Will you not be seated, Lady Jennifer?” he said, leading her to a chair by the hearth.  “Croft will bring refreshments and after a cup of tea I am sure you will feel more the thing.”  Releasing her hand he stood before her as she sank into the chair.  He found it necessary to concentrate, to keep his voice neutral, so that she would not be aware of his inner turmoil.  Grateful that he was at least allowed to retain his pride, he was relieved that he showed no signs of the physical weakness that had laid him so low. 

“I realize my appearance must come as quite a shock to you,” he said with an incongruous smile. 

She half rose but he held up his hand to forestall her and she once more sank back against the cushions.  All former irritation forgotten, she was unable to put into words what she was feeling at that precise moment and was relieved when a light tapping on the door heralded an interruption. 

Croft came into the room with a tray full of a light repast which was placed on a low table set at their side, whilst a butler brought in a tea tray and set it on a small table beside Jennifer.

Busying herself with the pouring of the tea, she set up a flow of inconsequential conversation in the hope of presenting a diversion.  She never allowed her eyes to wander from her task, dreading the moment when she would be forced to acknowledge the situation.  However, as she handed the cup to Sinclair, the words died on her lips as she became aware of his intense scrutiny.

Seeing her unease, Edward straightened himself in his chair, saying in a subdued tone, “Lady Jennifer, I think it only fair that I bring about a swift end to your disquiet.  I see what affect my injuries have on you, and believe me when I say that I quite understand.  I am not so insensitive as to not realize just how devastating it would be if you were forced to ally yourself to such an individual as I have become.  I would not wish it on you.”

She would have given an answer but he slowly shook his head.  “There is no need to attempt to put the matter delicately.  I am quite sure you realize, as do I, that to continue with the engagement would be disastrous.  Therefore, I will not prevaricate on the issue.  I release you from your promise.  The wedding will not take place.”

“It is not your wish that we should marry?” she asked paling still further. 

 “It is not.  I will send a retraction to the Gazette immediately.  It will be seen that I have been too long away and who should blame us if our sentiments have undergone a change during that time.  Indeed, it will be seen that I am the cause of the rift, so you need not fear censure.” 

“Are my feelings on the matter not to be considered then, sir?” she demanded. 

“I don’t think you know what your feelings are at this precise moment,” he replied, noting the indignant tilt of her chin and the militant look in her eye.  “If you would but be guided by me, I’m sure you will see the right of it, and will be relieved to be rid of me.”

 “I am beginning to think that I shall,” she said, coming abruptly to her feet and nearly upsetting the tea tray in the process.  “I’m excessively grateful to you for pointing it out to me.  You have saved me the need to deliberate further on the matter.”

He too came to his feet and bridged the distance between them to take her hand in his.  “You may not think it now, but you will come to be grateful to me for making the decision,” he said earnestly.  “Let not your sentiments at this moment in time cloud your judgment.  You see me as a case for pity, and it’s not what I would wish.  I will not allow you to take me when such emotions rule.”

 “You are quite right, sir,” she snapped, withdrawing her hand from his warm clasp.  “I would not wish that you should think I take you out of sympathy, therefore I see the sense of it.”  She did not understand why his words piqued her so.  Had it not been her own intent to end the betrothal?

An unfathomable look came in his eyes.  “I hope we may still meet as friends?”

 “As friends?  I see no reason why we should not,” she replied coolly, deciding her reaction was that of resentment because it had been he who had uttered the words that ended the betrothal and not she. 

Relieved, he smiled.  “Then we are in agreement?” 

“Most certainly.  You have taken a burden from my mind.  I too had wondered at the sense of continuing with the engagement and had reached the same decision as have you.  Now we are both free to continue with our lives unhindered!” 

 “Have you felt the betrothal a hindrance?” he asked with some concern. 

She colored with confusion.  “Yes…no…I don’t know what I have felt.  We had become as strangers and you were so far away….”  Her voice faltered and she refused to meet his gaze.

“Then the decision to end it is the right one and you may recommence your life without its burden.  Now that the matter is settled, we can be easy in each other’s company.  Won’t you be seated and take some tea with me?  Talk to me for a while.  I am in dire need of civilized conversation.

****    

When the time came for Jennifer to leave Fly, Edward escorted his former betrothed and her companion to their chaise.  Watching from the shallow steps that led to the gravel drive, he raised his hand in farewell as the equipage disappeared down the long driveway, waiting until it disappeared from view before turning back to the hall. 

Repairing immediately to his apartment, he went straight to the dresser and pulled wide the drawer.  Without taking it from its resting-place, he opened up the handkerchief and looked once more at the delicate face in the portrait. 

“The deed is done, my love.  The deed is done,” he said quietly, and once more folding the cloth, he gently closed the drawer.

Where’s your favorite place to write at home?

I write in the lounge, sitting in an armchair with my laptop on a small table.  I would love an office where I could shut myself away but, unfortunately, we do not have the space.

What is one thing about your book that makes it different from other books on the market?

I write ‘sweet’ so there are no explicit sex scenes, just pure romance, making it suitable for all ages.

Tables are turned…what is one thing you’d like to say to your audience who might buy your book one day?

I hope you enjoy reading my work as much as I enjoy writing it.  I love to hear from my readers and promise to answer all my mail.

Thank you for this interview, Hazel. Good luck on your virtual book tour! 

Thank you so much for arranging it all for me. 

I look forward to the stops on the tour and all the lovely people I meet.  I will enjoy every minute of it.