Is Ivy modeled after someone?
Ivy isn’t modeled after one particular person. She was created out of a general love I have for strong central female characters. She has a little bit of every girl in her.
Why did you choose 1968 Las Vegas as the setting for Ivy’s first
Time Spell
?
I really wanted a time that would be glamorous, fun, and seductive. It took me a while to settle on the exact year, but after a recent trip to Las Vegas, I knew it was the right setting. Ivy travels back and forth between the old Vegas and the new glitzy Vegas we know today. I thought it was a fun setting to portray the contrasts of an ever-changing city.
Where does Ivy get her fashion sense?
Ivy has great fashion sense. She’s your typical twenty-something girl. She reads a lot of fashion magazines, watches entertainment shows, and on top of that, has her own ideas on what is the perfect outfit for each occasion.
Did you have more fun creating one character over another?
Of course, Ivy is my absolute favorite. However, putting her aside, probably Helen. I really enjoyed transforming her from a poised aristocrat into a deranged shell of her former self. I didn’t know it would be so much fun until I started writing the scene with her in the mansion.
What about Finn versus Jack? Do you have a favorite?
Both of those men have unreal, undeniable attractive qualities. I can’t choose between them. That’s one of the great things about creating them; I don’t have to pick just one.
Speaking of Finn and Jack, each man is quite different yet appealing in his own way. Why do you think Ivy is drawn to such different types?
Without revealing too much about how Ivy’s relationships will unfold and develop in the series, I can say Ivy has a unique connection with both Jack and Finn. She and Finn have a physical attraction that is hard for her to ignore, no matter how much she wants to. There is something alluring, mysterious, and a little dangerous about him that keeps her wanting more. Jack, on the other hand, is someone she has developed feelings for over time. They work closely together, and she is drawn to him not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally.
As the book closes, it seems like Ivy is ready for her next adventure. Can you tell us anything about what’s in store for her down the road?
Yes! The next book in the series,
Cover Spell
, follows Ivy to New Orleans, where she is working on the screenplay for
Masquerade
. Her growing magical abilities will be tested, as well as her heart. There’s a new guy in the picture along with someone from her past.
Reader Discussion Questions
Why does Ivy struggle so much with the magical side of her life?
What is the significance of Ivy’s family in the story?
Do you think Richard Grace is right to be so concerned?
Did you feel sympathy toward Simone? What about Holden?
If you could
Time Spell
, would you be as steadfast as Ivy in her commitment not to interfere with the past?
Where would you want to travel?
There are obvious contrasts between Jack and Finn. Are they supposed to be opposites?
Finn is extremely charming. Does that personality skill always lead to positive outcomes?
Each main character is driven by love to some extent. Talk about how love leads them to carry out different actions. How is love different for Ivy than it is for Helen?
Stonevine, Connecticut, 1952
Helen
I
STRUMMED
my fingers along the edge of the baby grand piano, and exhaled a stream of smoke into the already stuffy room. I nodded at George as his fingers banged out the notes to
Blue Tango
on the piano. The band was taking a ten-minute break and George jumped at the chance to show off his playlist on the ivories.
This party was dull. Carolyn Crawford’s engagement was the talk of the town, but this soiree was turning into a drag. Her parents had filled their upper Stonevine home with the town’s most prestigious, wealthy, and affluent families to celebrate their only child’s upcoming wedding. Of course my family, the VonRues, were included. No doubt, we were at the top of the list.
The VonRues were at the top of everyone’s list. My father, Charles, had a hand in the success of Stonevine. There wasn’t anyone at this party who didn’t owe him something, and he knew it.
One of the waiters walking by offered a glass of champagne. I greedily accepted the chilled beverage and surveyed the room for a rescue from George’s singing. He had moved on to an Eddie Fisher song.
Where was Peter
? Why couldn’t I find him in this crowd?
I did my best to take tiny sips of the champagne, but it was sweet and cold and I was bored. I knocked the glass back and heard an instant chuckle from over my right shoulder. Someone was watching me. I turned to face the man who had found my boredom so amusing.
I caught my breath and reigned in my smile. Surely my perfect, creamy skin had turned bright pink as I flushed from the thoughts of him and those devilish eyes. I had never seen eyes that color before. It was like flecks of diamonds were glinting at me.
Who was he?
I was confident I knew everyone Carolyn invited. Maybe he was a cousin or perhaps someone’s date. Whoever the stranger was, he certainly wasn’t from Stonevine.
Daringly, I thought about introducing myself or asking him if maybe he played the piano, but the instant I glided forward he turned his back to me and began shamelessly flirting with the girls crowding around him. Really, those girls are indecent—throwing themselves at a man like that. Let them make fools of themselves. Who would want to bother with someone like him? His tux didn’t fit quite right, he laughed a little too loudly, and it looked like he had straight bourbon in his glass. He most certainly was not from any of the families I had spent my life socializing with.
I reached for one more glass of champagne floating by on another waiter’s tray and turned toward the door. I stepped on to the Crawfords’ front porch and inhaled the Connecticut spring air. I wanted to shake off how that man stared at me, but at the same time, I wanted him to do it again.
Looking through the windows of the house, I saw my friends, arm in arm, gathering around George and his silly singing. Carolyn and Phillip were at the center of the circle. Truly, they made a lovely Stonevine couple. That will be Peter and me in a few months.
My mother was already planning the precise details of our engagement announcement. She had chosen my deep blue cocktail dress for the evening—she liked to plan. I couldn’t believe it when she told me it was the same one Princess Margaret had worn. As if it was designed especially for my tall thin frame, the folds of the silk hugged my hips swishing like an airy cloud when I walked. We were waiting until after Carolyn’s party to break the news to our friends. Stonevine can only handle one lavish wedding at a time. And the VonRues were not going to let my engagement to Peter Willoughby be anything less than spectacular.
I sighed and leaned against the column closest to me. At nineteen, I knew I was ready for marriage. Two years at Briarcliff had taught me how to achieve the necessary duties my socialite wife status called upon me to perform. All Briarcliff girls knew how to do those things. Me, I just knew how to do them better.
Peter would give me a wonderful life. We’d honeymoon in Paris for the summer then come back to Stonevine and find a charming home, probably close to my parents. Father had offered Peter a position at VonRue Holdings as the Vice President of Operations. There would be parties, bridge every week, and trips to the city for the theater. We had already decided we would have one boy and one girl. What more could I ask for? It was all planned, all settled, and all tidy.
I pulled out a cigarette from my clutch when the door opened and a giggling girl scurried past me with an eager suitor in tow. Her curls bobbed up and down as they darted into the shadows created by the corner of the house. “Shhh.” She giggled some more. I don’t think they saw me on the porch.
I had no interest in listening to this nonsense. I stuffed the unlit cigarette in the silk purse and turned to rejoin the party. I might as well search for Peter.
Shouldn’t he be looking for me?
Irritated my future husband hadn’t noticed my absence, I huffed and pulled on the door handle.
“Whoa, pretty kitty. Where are you going in such a hurry?”
He was there, filling up the doorframe in his ill-fitted tux. The beautiful stranger with the mesmerizing eyes. The reason I needed fresh air. The man who made me lose my senses for an enthralling five seconds. And there were only inches between us.
“Cat got your tongue?” He teased.
I snapped back, “Certainly not. I’m looking for my…my…date.” I tried to step past him, but he remained planted in the doorway. “Excuse me. I’m trying to return to the party.”
He laughed. “Now, just wait. If you have to go looking for your date, it’s apparent he’s the wrong Joe for you.”
My eyes dropped to the floor. I was equally vexed and embarrassed that this man I didn’t even know said exactly what I was thinking.
“You don’t know Peter. He’s quite the gentleman
and
quite the catch. He would never leave in the middle of a conversation. That would be rude, wouldn’t it?” I glared at the stranger and his perfectly carved cheekbones. He looked like a flawless statue I had seen in my art history books. “I’m sure he can’t just break away from his current company. Besides, I’m more than capable of entertaining myself.”
He laughed again, and I absorbed every vibrating note ricocheting between us. “I can see that you are. Defend him if you like, but if my date was as gorgeous and sexy as you are, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight—not even for a second.” His eyes dipped toward the V in the sweetheart line of my dress.
Did he just say I was sexy? Out loud so everyone within earshot of the Crawfords’ porch could hear him? I felt his pale icy eyes undressing me right out of my couture gown. My head was spinning. This outsider was crossing all kinds of lines I couldn’t even fathom. He was dangerous. He radiated something undeniably sinful and powerful. I smiled as I felt it encircle me in slow undulating rings.
I took a step back, and then another so that the tall handsome guest had room to close the door. There was just enough light from the windows to allow me to see his wicked smile and captivating eyes, even though most of him was a mysterious silhouette cloaked in darkness.
In one long stride, he cut the distance between us, and his hand reached for the column my back was now pressed against. I heard the band start up again, and the words to
You Belong To Me
suspended in the air between us.