Rancor Bass...How did he get that name? Guest Blogger: M.S. Spencer #BlogMondays #MondayBlogs #GuestAuthor
Thank you so much for having Rancor, Charity, and me at your
lovely site, J. C.! Today I’d like to talk about Rancor Bass, scion of the Bass
family of Maine.
Midcoast
Maine is the setting for several of my books, including the Penhallow Train Incident. The Pit and the Passion: Murder at the Ghost
Hotel, my
new cozy mystery romance, is set on the Gulf Coast of Florida. But the
hero--Rancor Bass—comes from Camden, Maine. Here he explains some of his family
history to Charity, our heroine.
About the Author:
“The Basses go way back. The first
Michael Bass settled in York in 1623, and several Basses fought in the French
and Indian war. They were paid in pelts. One Ferdinand Bass opened a clothing
store specializing in furs in 1746, and the family has lived there ever since.”
“Are you still in furs?”
“Oh no. By the turn of the
century—that’s the eighteenth century—several ancestors had branched out into
the hospitality industry. We kept taverns along the post road in Massachusetts,
Connecticut, and Rhode Island. Then in the late 1870s, Old Robert—my great
great grandfather—bought his first hotel from some guy named Biltmore. Today,
we have boutique inns here in Florida, Seattle, and San Francisco.” He paused,
his brow furrowed. “I think there’s one in Chicago too. But we’re still based
in Maine.”
Blurb:
At midnight,
in the darkness of a deserted hotel, comes a scream and a splash. Eighty-five
years later, workmen uncover a skeleton in an old elevator shaft. Who is it,
and how did it get there? To find out, Charity Snow, ace reporter for the
Longboat Key Planet, teams up with Rancor Bass, best-selling author. A college
ring they find at the dig site may prove to be their best clue.
Although his arrogance nearly exceeds his talent, Charity soon
discovers a warm heart beating under Rancor’s handsome exterior. While dealing
with a drop-dead gorgeous editor who may or may not be a villain, a publisher
with a dark secret, and an irascible forensic specialist, Charity and Rancor unearth
an unexpected link to the most famous circus family in the world.
In this excerpt
Rancor explains to Charity how he came by his rather peculiar name.
Excerpt
(G): Family Ties
Charity continued to muse. “Of
course, Rancor has to be a pen name. It’s much too outlandish to be real.”
He poured more wine. “Au contraire, ma petite. It is my real name.”
“Really? Rancor? Someone in the
family detested you on sight? I guess that’s not so surprising.”
“Not exactly.”
She took the bottle from him and
peered into his face. His eyes were clouded. Have I pinked an old wound? “Tell me.”
He glanced at her serious face and
assumed a lighthearted air. “My father named me. You see, I was the sixth child
in what was supposed to be a childless marriage.”
“On purpose?”
“Oh yes. My father had renounced
offspring. His father had abandoned his wife and children when Dad was two. Ran
off with a lady of the night, according to family lore. Never heard from him
again. My grandmother died soon after he left, and my great grandparents took
my father and his sister, my Aunt Gertrude, in. As a result, Dad swore he’d
never reproduce.”
“And then he met your mother.”
“Clara Pendleton was the mayor’s
daughter. She had auburn hair”—he reached out to touch Charity’s braid—“much
like yours. Smart as a whip. She intended to go to New York to teach or,
failing that, become a star of the stage.”
“So…er…flexible.”
“Indeed. And lovely. He once wrote
that her breasts were like moons, her eyes like stars, and her vagina like a
lotus.”
“He didn’t.”
“He did. Where do you think I get
my way with words?” He grinned.
“So, he…wait, what was his name?”
“Rupert.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Another gift from his
splenetic dad. According to Auntie, Grandpa refused to pass on the family name
of Robert.”
“So, Rupert fell in love with
Clara. I take it she changed his mind about having progeny?”
“No, never. She just kept having
them. Gave them all names beginning with R.
Rupert Jr., then Rebecca, Rothschild—Mother thought the banking family
exceedingly romantic—Rose, and Rory.”
“And Rancor.”
“That came later. Rory was five
years my senior. My father thought himself well out of it. Then along came this
squawling boy child with a shock of luxuriant hair the color of freshly turned
Delta soil and a penis the size of Long Island.”
The unfortunate Donna appeared at
the table as he pronounced these last words and dropped the water pitcher. She
knelt to mop up the spill and managed to rise just as Rancor stood up, thus
finding herself nose to nose with the aforementioned organ. Charity felt sorry
for her. That blush must really hurt.
“Will there, will there be
anything else…sir?”
“Thanks. She’ll take the check.”
He waved at Charity. “I need to pee.”
The two women watched the tight
jeans walk away, gulping in unison.
Charity didn’t have a chance to
resume her interrogation until they returned to her apartment. When she dropped
her sweater on the back of the couch, Rancor picked it up and took it to the
closet before heading into the kitchen.
“You hadn’t finished about your
birth…I mean childhood.” Moving on for
now, if only for Donna’s sake.
He returned with two glasses.
Handing one to her, he observed, “The last of the Glenlivet. You might want to
pop into the liquor store tomorrow.”
Mind-boggling. “Your childhood?”
“Yes, well, Father was not amused
by the arrival of said infant. He claimed it was Clara’s revenge for his
negative attitude. Or was it for the fireworks he set off when Clara told him
Rory would be the last?” His upper lip twisted. “According to Mother, he picked
me up by the scruff of my neck, shook me, and declared me to be the spawn of
her rancor. Hence the name. I am eternally grateful he didn’t name me ‘Spite.’
”
Charity found herself at a loss
for words. Rancor interpreted her silence as an invitation to take her in his
arms, spilling both their drinks. “Rancor!”
“Damn. Now you’ll have to go out
immediately for more whiskey. Do you want me to accompany you?” “No.” The man is utterly oblivious.
“All right. I’ll wait for you
here.” He poured what was left of the whiskey into one of the glasses and
knocked it off. When she made no move toward the door, he sighed. “I guess it
can wait.” An unproductive pause later, he sighed again. “But enough about me.
What about you? Did you finish the article?”
“I have a single column drafted on
the discovery, with more to follow. I sure hope we hear from Captain Kelly
tonight.”
He checked his watch. “It’s almost
eight o’clock. Don’t expect anything today. Also, tomorrow is Sunday, and
somehow I doubt the good professor works on the Sabbath.”
She said uncharitably, “Well, it’s
a sure bet he doesn’t go to church.”
“However, I do. I noticed the
Longboat Chapel has a service at ten. Care to join me?” Her jaw dropped.
“I’ll consider that a yes.” He
stretched. “I’m going to take a shower.” His fingers grazed her breast. “Early
to bed, you know.”
After a suitable interval, she
followed him. The rest of the night went pretty much like the night before had.
Only upside down and backward.
The Wild Rose Press, January 22, 2018 (Crimson Rose)
Mystery, Humorous/Romantic Comedy
Rating: PG13
418 p.; 97370 words
Buy Links:
Barnes
and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-pit-and-the-passion-m-s-spencer/1127750685?ean=2940158925351
About the Author:
Although
M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents, the last
thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian,
Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, policy wonk,
non-profit director, and parent. After many years in academia, she worked for
the U.S. Senate, the U.S. Department of the Interior, in several library
systems, both public and academic, and at the Torpedo Factory Art Center.
Ms.
Spencer has published eleven romantic suspense novels, and has two more in
utero. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She
divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
Contacts:
Thanks so much for having Rancor, Charity and me on your beautiful site today. I hope your readers enjoy the excerpt!
ReplyDeleteYou’re welcome! Thanks for being my guest :-)
DeleteI wondered about that name. And I love the character! Looking forward to reading this one!
ReplyDeleteEnjoy!
DeleteI wonder d about the name, too. The dad sounds like a piece of work!
DeleteI can't resist a story set in the Florida Keys. And getting to know Rancor is a bonus. :)
ReplyDeleteWishing you all the best.
Love Florida. The setting in The Pit & the Passion is of course a Gulf Coast key--Florida has keys on every coast--all beautiful. Thanks for reading!
DeleteI’ve never been to Florida, so I love to read about it - makes me feel like I’m there, you know? Thanks for visiting!
DeleteI love the name. Thanks for sharing with us.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading!
DeleteI do, too! Thanks for stopping by Kayden!
DeleteRancor is an intriguing character. I enjoyed learning more about him. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI don't usually admit it in case my other heroes are listening, but I love Rancor! Thanks for reading.
DeleteVery intriguing. I can already tell he’s a complex character :-)
DeleteSounds like an exciting story! Best of luck, M. S.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by and commenting Barb!
DeleteRancor is an interesting character! Sounds like a fun read! Best of luck!!
ReplyDeleteThanks for visiting Karilyn!
DeleteThank you everyone for stopping by and most of all for reading! M. S.
ReplyDelete