Griffin has lived alone with his older brother Darius (you’ll meet him soon) since their parents were murdered by the very people responsible for the execution of Helen’s parents. After their death, Helen finds her way to the Channing brothers and quickly learns that they’re her best chance of survival. At first, Griffin seems to defer to Darius out of intimidation, but as Helen gets to know him better, she realizes it’s a form of love and respect. Griffin is more than capable of standing toe to toe with his brother. He simply chooses his battles out of love for his brother.
Griffin has a soft spot for strays and sometimes squints. He needs spectacles — something Darius is fond of reminding him of — but insists he doesn’t. He’s a low-key kind of guy who usually takes things as they come, but when he wants something, he fights for it.
And he happens to want Helen Cartwright’s love.
Actor Jake Abel (pictured above) is a very much how I picture Griffin. Here’s an excerpt from the book featuring Griffin. Hope you enjoy getting to know him!
She looked for him in the library some time later, the fabric
of her strange new skirt brushing against her leg. After finding
the library empty, she searched the remaining rooms on the
ground floor until the only one left was the kitchen. She came
upon him there, crouched at the back door and muttering
something unintelligible to someone she couldn’t see.
Approaching cautiously, she spoke softly so as not to star-
“Huh? What?” He turned, clearly startled despite her best
efforts. “Oh, Helen! That was fast.”
He shut the door quickly behind him.
She waved toward it. “Who is that you’re speaking to?”
He feigned surprise. “That? No one. There’s no one there.”
She tilted her head, trying to place his strange demeanor.
“But you were talking to someone.”
He shook his head, leaning against the door as if that would
prevent her from opening it.
She crossed to it in two long strides, reaching for the knob.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I heard you speaking to someone.”
She tugged on the knob, trying to open it, but he wouldn’t
“Griffin! Why are you acting so strange?” She continued
without waiting for an answer. “I realize we don’t know one
another well, but surely you know me well enough to know
that I’m not leaving until that door is opened and I see for
myself who is on the other side.”
He stared into her eyes for a second before stepping aside
with a sigh. “Very well. Have a look at my small companion,
She held his gaze a moment longer, wondering at his choice
of words, before pulling open the door.
No one was there. She was standing on the same small
porch she had used to escape the house and follow Darius and
Griffin that first night, but it was completely empty.
At least, that is what she thought before she heard the
unmistakable meow at her feet.
She dropped her gaze, noting the black-and-white kitten
lapping cream from a fine floral dish. Then, she understood.
She looked up at Griffin, leaning against the door frame, his
face reddening slightly under her gaze.
He waved her off before she could speak. “It’s nothing to
make a fuss over. The poor thing was bedraggled when it first
came to the door. Anyone in my position would offer it some
A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “You feed the cat?
That’s who you were talking to?”
“Well, technically, there is more than one of them. It didn’t
seem right to turn away Mouser’s friends.” He bent to pick up
the kitten, now done with the saucer of milk. “Isn’t that right,
“Mouser?” Helen said, trying to suppress her smile.
He held the ball of fluff against his body as if he had done it
a thousand times before. “He needed a name.” A note of defen-
siveness crept into his voice. “And he brought me a mouse the
first night he appeared on the step, as if he wanted to trade it
for some food.”
“It’s a fine name.” Reaching carefully toward the kitten, she
let it sniff her hand before touching it gently. “And for the
record, I quite like people who take in strays.” She met Grif-
fin’s eyes with a smile, and something powerful and warm rose
in her as she stroked the animal’s silky fur, her hand brushing
Griffin’s as he did the same.
“I suppose we should work in the ballroom before night-
fall,” he said, reluctantly putting the cat back on the ground.
“You’ll need good light to train with the sickle.”
She had to suppress the urge to protest. She did not want
to work with something so sharp and dangerous. Now, as they
made their way through the kitchen, she wanted to apologize
in advance for the fiasco that would surely be her training with
“I’m not very good with anything physical . . .” she began as
they turned down a hallway she had never seen.
He flashed her a grin as they walked. “I find that hard to