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A Rose in Winter Mass Market Paperback – October 1, 1983
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But marriage for love is not to be, for her irresponsible and unscrupulous father, crippled by gambling debts, is intent on auctioning off his beautiful daughter to the highest bidder. And in the end, Erienne is devastated to find it is the strange and secretive Lord Saxton who has purchased her--a mysterious, tragic figure who wears a mask and a cloak at all times to hide disfiguring scars gained in a terrible fire some years back.
But in the passing days, Saxton's true nature is revealed to her. A gentle and adoring soul, he treats his new bride with warmth and abiding tenderness, yet appears to her only by daylight. She, in turn, vows to be a good and loyal wife to him. And then Christopher Seton reenters Erienne's world.
Conflicted by emotions she cannot suppress, Erienne valiantly attempts to remain honorable to her elusive, enigmatic husband but feels herself irresistibly drawn to Seton's passion, his fire, and his secrets. Entangled in intrigues she doesn't yet understand, Erienne Fleming will soon have to make a devastating choice: between love and honor...between her duty and her heart.
- Print length576 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherAvon
- Publication dateOctober 1, 1983
- Dimensions4.19 x 1.15 x 6.75 inches
- ISBN-100380844001
- ISBN-13978-0380844005
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From the Back Cover
The fairest flower in Mawbry is Erienne Fleming, the enchanting, raven-haired daughter of the village mayor. Charming, spirited and exquisitely lovely, she is beset on all sides by suitors, any one of whom would pay a king's fortune for a place in her heart. But Erienne has eyes for only one: the dashing and witty young Yankee, Christopher Seton.
But marriage for love is not to be, for her irresponsible and unscrupulous father, crippled by gambling debts, is intent on auctioning off his beautiful daughter to the highest bidder. And in the end, Erienne is devastated to find it is the strange and secretive Lord Saxton who has purchased her—a mysterious, tragic figure who wears a mask and a cloak at all times to hide disfiguring scars gained in a terrible fire some years back.
But in the passing days, Saxton's true nature is revealed to her. A gentle and adoring soul, he treats his new bride with warmth and abiding tenderness, yet appears to her only by daylight. She, in turn, vows to be a good and loyal wife to him. And then Christopher Seton reenters Erienne's world Conflicted by emotions she cannot suppress, Erienne valiantly attempts to remain honorable to her elusive, enigmatic husband but feels herself irresistibly drawn to Seton's passion, his fire, and his secrets. Entangled in intrigues she doesn't yet understand, Erienne Fleming will soon have to make a devastating choice: between love and honor . . . between her duty and her heart.
About the Author
(1939 - 2007) Kathleen E. Woodiwiss, creator of the modern historical romance, died July 6, 2007 in Minnesota. She had just turned 68. Her attorney, William Messerlie, said that she died after a long illness.
Born on June 3, 1939 in Alexandria, Louisiana, Mrs. Woodiwiss was the youngest of eight siblings. She long relished creating original narratives, and by age six was telling herself stories at night to help herself fall asleep. At age 16, she met U.S. Air Force Second Lieutenant Ross Woodiwiss at a dance, and they married the following year. She wrote her first book in longhand while living at a military outpost in Japan.
Woodiwiss is credited with the invention of the modern historical romance novel: in 1972, she released The Flame and the Flower, an instant New York Times bestseller, creating literary precedent. The Flame and the Flower revolutionized mainstream publishing, featuring an epic historical romance with a strong heroine and impassioned sex scenes. "Kathleeen E. Woodiwiss is the founding mother of the historical romance genre," says Carrie Feron, vice president/editorial director of William Morrow and Avon Books, imprints of HarperCollins Publishers. Feron, who has been Woodiwiss's editor for 13 years, continues, "Avon Books is proud to have been Kathleen's sole publishing partner for her paperbacks and hardcover novels for more than three decades." Avon Books, a leader in the historical romance genre to this day, remains Mrs. Woodiwiss's original and only paperback publisher; William Morrow, Avon's sister company, publishes Mrs. Woodiwiss's hardcovers.
The Flame and the Flower was rejected by agents and hardcover publishers, who deemed it as "too long" at 600 pages. Rather than follow the advice of the rejection letters and rewrite the novel, Mrs. Woodiwiss instead submitted it to paperback publishers. The first publisher on her list, Avon, quickly purchased the novel and arranged an initial 500,000 print run. The novel sold over 2.3 million copies in its first four years of publication.
The success of this novel prompted a new style of writing romance, concentrating primarily on historical fiction tracking the monogamous relationship between a helpless heroines and the hero who rescued her, even if he had been the one to place her in danger. The romance novels which followed in her example featured longer plots, more controversial situations and characters, and more intimate and steamy sex scenes.
"Her words engendered an incredible passion among readers," notes Feron. Bestselling author Julia Quinn agrees, saying, "Woodiwiss made women want to read. She gave them an alternative to Westerns and hard-boiled police procedurals. When I was growing up, I saw my mother and grandmother reading and enjoying romances, and when I was old enough to read them myself, I felt as if I had been admitted into a special sisterhood of reading women."
New York Times bestselling author Susan Elizabeth Phillips, a leading voice in the women's fiction arena, says, "We all owe our careers to her. She opened the world of romance to us as readers. She created a career for us to go into."
The pioneering author has written 13 novels over the course of 35 years, all New York Times bestsellers. Kathleen E. Woodiwiss's final literary work, the upcoming Everlasing, will be published by William Morrow in October 2007. "Everlasting is Kathleen's final gift to her fans," notes Feron.
Kathleen E. Woodiwiss, who was predeceased by her husband and son Dorren, is survived by sons Sean and Heath, and numerous grandchildren.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
A Rose in Winter
By Kathleen WoodiwissHarperCollins Publishers, Inc.
Copyright © 2006 Kathleen WoodiwissAll right reserved.
ISBN: 0380844001
Chapter One
Erienne was somewhat dazzled by the warmth in his voice and failed to devote due attention to the stairs. Her slippered foot partially missed the first step, causing her to stumble and teeter precariously on the brink of a precipitous descent. Her breath froze in her throat, but before she could react, a long arm encircled her waist and yanked her back to safety. Caught against his broad, hard chest, she gasped in breathless relief. Finally, tremblingly, she raised her gaze to the face above her own. Filled with concern, his eyes searched hers until gradually the worry left them, to be replaced by a deeper, smoldering light.
"Miss Fleming . . ."
"Erienne, please." Her whisper was subdued and distant.
Neither of them heard the front door being opened or the mingled masculine voices drifting up from below. They were caught in their own private universe and might have remained there undisturbed for several more moments had not an enraged bellow roused them to abrupt awareness.
"Here now! What's the meanin' o' this?"
Still much in a daze, Erienne pulled away and glanced down to the hall below, where her father and another man stared back in equal amazement. The rapidly darkening, wide-eyed face of Avery Fleming was enough to unsettle her composure, but the thing that really roused doubt about the rightness of her world was the coarse featured visage of the thin, bony stranger who stood beside her parent. He matched her vision of Christopher Seton exactly. All he needed was a large wart on his chin to be her foe incarnate.
Avery Fleming's righteous display of anger fairly shook the house. "I asked ye what's the meanin' o' this!" He gave her no moment to answer before he ranted on. "I leave ye for no more 'an a moment or two an' come back to find ye flauntin' a man in me own . . . You!" Avery threw his hat to the floor, and his sparse hair stood on end. "Be damned! Betrayed in me own house! By me own kin!"
Red-faced with embarrassment, Erienne quickly descended the stairs as she tried to shush her kin. "Please, Father, let me explain . . ."
"Ahhh, ye needn't!" he snarled in derision. "I can see it all with me own eyes! Betrayed, it is! An' by me own daughter!' He flung up a hand contemptuously toward the man who came down the stairs behind her and sneered, "With this bloody bastard!"
'Father!' Erienne was shocked at his choice of titles. "This . . ." She also indicated the one descending down the steps. "This is the man you sent. Silas Chambers, I believe."
The raw-faced stranger stepped forward, bobbing his head in a confused, birdlike manner. He jabbed his hat out in front of him to gain their notice and began to stutter, "I . . . I a-a-am, I-I m mean, h-he . . . he's n-not . . . ooof!'
The last was an abrupt exhalation caused by Avery when he stepped forward and flung his arms wide in a gesture of complete disgust. The gaunt man was brushed aside as the father's discomfiture burst in broad display.
"Ye mindless little twit! Have ye lost yer wits? He's not Silas Chambers!' He thrust a thumb over his shoulder at the bony one. "This one's yer man! Right 'ere!" Then he struck a portly, bowlegged pose and stabbed a stubby finger at the man on the stairs. "'At one! 'At fatherless swine . . ."
Erienne leaned against the wall and shut her eyes tightly. She already knew what her father would say.
". . . 'E's the one what blasted poor Farrell's arm! 'E's yer Mr. Seton! Christopher Seton, it is!"
"Christopher Seton?' Erienne's lips formed the words, but no sound issued forth. She opened her eyes and searched her father's face as if fervently seeking a denial of what she had heard. Her gaze went to the gawky stranger, and the truth was only too clear. He was no different from the rest of the suitors her father had brought for her consideration.
"You foolish ninny!" Avery continued to berate her. "This is Silas Chambers! Not that conceited scoundrel ye was wrapped up with!"
An expression of stunned horror on her face, Erienne stared up into the green eyes.
Christopher smiled sympathetically. "My apologies, Erienne, but I thought you knew. If you'll remember, I questioned you about it."
The dismay on her face yielded beneath the onslaught of pure rage. She had been duped! And her pride ached for revenge. Hauling back a hand, she let fly a stinging slap to his bronze cheek. " 'Tis Miss Fleming to you!"
Rubbing the side of his face, Christopher Seton laughed softly, his eyes still warm and sparkling. Erienne could not bear his taunting gaze and presented her back to him. He admired it briefly before he lent his attention to her father. "I came to inquire about a debt you promised to make good, sir. I'm wondering when I might expect such an event to take place."
Avery's head lowered sheepishly between his shoulders while his face glowed a bright red. Avoiding Silas's inquisitive stare, he mum bled something about paying the debt as soon as he could.
Christopher stepped into the parlor to retrieve his coat and came back shrugging it into place. "I was hoping you could be a bit more specific than that, Mayor. I don't like to intrude on your hospitality too often, and you did promise to pay me within a month's time. As you must be aware, the month has come and gone."
Avery clenched his hands into tight fists but dared not bring them up from his sides lest the movement be taken as a challenge. "You'd best keep yer moldy presence away from here, Mr. Seton. I won't have the likes o' ye servicin' me daughter. She'll be gettin' married, and I'll not see ye hinderin' the nuptials."
"Ah, yes, I did hear some rumors about that," Christopher replied with a sarcastic smile. "After meeting her, I'm somewhat amazed that you haven't been more successful, though it seems rather unjust that she must pay the rest of her life for a debt you made."
"Me daughter's none o' yer concern!"
Though Silas Chambers had jumped as each word was being shouted, Christopher had held a bland smile on his face. He appeared undaunted as he replied, "I hate to think that she'll be forced into a marriage because of a debt owed to me."
Avery gaped at him in surprise. "Aye? Ye wouldn't be thinkin' o' forgettin' 'bout the debt, now would ye?"
Christopher's laughter dispelled the notion. "Hardly! But I'm not without eyes in my head, and I realize your daughter would be a most charming companion. I'd be willing to wait a bit longer for what is due me if you would allow me to court her." He shrugged casually. "Who knows what might come of it."
Avery nearly strangled over the suggestion. "Blackmail and debauchery! I'd sooner see her dead than taken up with the likes o' ye!"
Christopher considered Silas, who nervously crushed his tricorn against his chest. When he returned his gaze to the mayor, his mockery was subtle yet direct. "Aye, I imagine you would."
Avery blustered under the jibe. He was aware that Silas was not much to look at, but the man had a modest fortune. Besides, his daughter was better off avoiding marriage to a handsome rake who would get her with a brood of brats. Silas would be suitable enough for her needs. But then, after seeing her with this Seton devil, Silas might be hesitant about offering marriage for fear he might be getting tainted goods.
"There be plenty o' suitors willing to pay the bride price," Avery insisted, just in case Silas had any doubts. "Men what are wise enough to see what treasures she'll bring 'em, and not one of 'em abused her kin."
Facing Erienne, Christopher favored her with a lopsided grin. "I suppose this means I won't be welcomed here again?"
"Get out! And don't ever darken this door again!" she cried, fighting tears of anger and humiliation. Her lips curling with contempt, she gave him a scathing perusal. "Were a twisted, scar-faced, hunch backed cripple the only other man on earth, I would surely choose him over you!"
Christopher let his gaze glide down her. "As for me, Erienne, were you cast down before me, I would not be wont to cross over you to get to some broad bovine." He smiled in wry humor as his eyes met hers again. "Twould be pure foolishness to spite myself for the sake of pride."
"Out!" The word was spat from her lips with vengeance as her arm thrust out in the direction of the door.
Christopher gave a curt, mocking bow of compliance and approached the peg which bore his redingote while Avery seized his daughter's arm and jerked her into the parlor.
Continues...
Excerpted from A Rose in Winterby Kathleen Woodiwiss Copyright © 2006 by Kathleen Woodiwiss. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Product details
- Publisher : Avon; Reissue edition (October 1, 1983)
- Language : English
- Mass Market Paperback : 576 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0380844001
- ISBN-13 : 978-0380844005
- Item Weight : 10.2 ounces
- Dimensions : 4.19 x 1.15 x 6.75 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #191,164 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #924 in 20th Century Historical Romance (Books)
- #4,636 in Western Romances
- #5,431 in Regency Romances
- Customer Reviews:
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About the author

With more than thirty-six million copies of her bestselling novels already in print, Kathleen E. Woodiwiess remains one of America's most successful and beloved storytellers. She is the author of twelve enormously successful masterworks of romantic fiction, including The Flame and the Flower, Shanna, Ashes in the Wind, Petals on the River, and The Elusive Flame.
Photo by Joan Bingham (ebay.com, front of photo, back of photo) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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“A Rose in Winter
A crimson bloom in winter’s snow,
Born out of time, like a maiden’s woe,
Spawned in a season when the chill winds blow.
’Twas found in a sheltered spot,
Bright sterling gules and blemished not,
Red as a drop o’ blood from the broken heart,
Of the maid who waits and weeps atop the tor,
Left behind by yon argent knight sworn to war,
’Til ajousting and aquesting he goes no more.
Fear not, Sweet Jo, amoulderin’ on the moor.
The winter’s rose doth promise in the fading runes of yore,
That true love once found will again be restored.”
“Do you think calling me ‘Mr. Seton’ is going to stop me from wanting you?” he asked as his eyes caressed her. “You know very little about me… or men… if you think mere words can quench what I feel for you. ’Tis no simple lust that gnaws at me, Erienne, but an ever-raging desire to have you with me every moment, to feel your softness beneath my searching hand, and to claim you as my own. Nay, no stilted title can cool what burns in me.”
-Christopher to Erienne
“I believe, my dear Erienne,” he began solicitously, the humor in his voice disguised by a disapproving frown, “that you either have a penchant for self-destruction… or you are somehow testing me… or my ability to protect you. I think this may bear further investigation.”
-Christopher
The warmth that went through her could not be laid entirely to a hot blush. “You, sir, have a very evil imagination!”
“Nay, madam,” he denied. “Vivid, aye! But nothing about you is evil, and that’s all I think about.”
-Erienne & Christopher
“Tis obvious that you’re easily…” She paused, searching for a more sarcastic and descriptive word than “encouraged.”
“Aroused?” he queried.
Erienne gasped. “Certainly not!”
“Have you changed your mind? You said at a twitch of a skirt…”
“I know what I said!”
“The subject seems to be on your mind quite a bit, my lady.”
“I wonder why,” she retorted with unmistakable satire. It was impossible to ignore the manly feel of him against her.
“Because you lust after my body?” he asked, feigning innocence.
Erienne caught her breath in outrage. “I am a married woman, sir!”
He heaved a laborious sigh. “Here we go again!”
“Oh, you buffoon! Why don’t you leave me alone?”
“Did I ask you to follow me?” he protested.
She groaned aloud in frustration. “I’m sorry I did!”
“Were you bruised?” He snuggled her closer against his body. “You feel all right to me.”
“Christopher, if I weren’t so afraid of this horse, I’d slap you,” she threatened.
“Why? I only inquired of your health.”
“Because you make free with your hands! Now, stop that!” She threw away the hand that had settled on her thigh. “Don’t you ever get tired of playing the rake?”
“The sport warms and excites me, madam,” he said, chuckling in her ear.
-Erienne & Christopher
“Tis a fact I’ve learned all too well that words cast out in the light of day, like doves, oft come home to roost in the darkest hours.”
-Christopher
“I can’t leave you alone.” He touched his lips to the smoothly rising slope of her shoulder. “The thought of you stumbles the beat of my heart and arouses such a hunger in me that I must seek you out or groan beneath the torture of it. You have chained me to you, Erienne. The beast is your slave.”
-Lord Saxton
“Whatever my lady desires,” he breathed, nuzzling the fragrant tresses beside her ear. “My world is where you are, and I follow where you lead.”
Erienne giggled as his teeth nibbled at her earlobe. “Nay, sir. I will never lead you, for my hand will be tucked firmly in yours. We are one, in truth, and by your side I will gladly walk or stand if you will have me there.”
“If?” There was amazement evident in his tone as he repeated the word. “Have I fought for you all these many months just to place you behind me, where I cannot view your beauty? Nay, my lady, beside me is where I would have you, always close to my heart.”
“Aye, milord.” She snuggled close to him, but his low, wheezing laughter made her draw back again to try to see the eyes that were only a dark shadow behind the silken cloth.
“Something amuses you?”
“Sleep! ’Twill be impossible with you in my arms.”
“Shall I go?” she questioned, resting a hand on his chest.
“Never!” He caught her to him in a fierce embrace, burying his face against her throat.
-Erienne & Lord Saxton
I know that many reviewers have complained about Erienne and Christopher being "too beautiful", "too good looking" and "too perfect". What these reviewers have not thought about, is that these characters lived in a time when the population in these towns/ villages were very small. So the likely-hood of Erienne being the most beautiful woman ( or Christopher being the most handsome and dashing man ) in the village was probably not that far fetched. This book is also a work of FICTION and fantasy, that was written in the early 1980's. I think the author had a right to make the characters as beautiful, good looking, funny and rich ( basically as perfect ) as she wants them to be. That's the whole point of fiction and fantasy! Have fun with it, and stop nit-picking every little detail of the author's story :)
I have read this book at least once a year ( since that first time when I was 17 ), as other reviewers have said they've done. It never gets old, and it never disappoints!! I can honestly say that this is definitely my favorite book/ novel of all time.
While I know there are some very negative reviews that I don't agree with, I also understand that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, even if that opinion isn't one that others will agree with. I, however, adore this book and would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a great romance novel that you can lose yourself in :)








