Bluestocking Belles

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Review of Dangerous Secrets

Dangerous secretsI’ve just finished Dangerous Secrets, by Caroline Warfield. Here’s the blurb:

When a little brown wren of an Englishwoman bursts into Jamie Heyworth’s private Hell and asks for help he mistakes her for the black crow of death. Why not? He fled to Rome and sits in despair with nothing left to sell and no reason to get up in the morning. Behind him lie disgrace, shame, and secrets he is desperate to keep.

Nora Haley comes to Rome at the bidding of her dying brother who has an unexpected legacy. Never in her sunniest dreams did Nora expect Robert to leave her a treasure, a tiny black-eyed niece with curly hair and warm hugs. Nora will do anything to keep her, even hire a shabby, drunken major as an interpreter.

Jamie can’t let Nora know the secrets he has hidden from everyone, even his closest friends. Nora can’t trust any man who drinks. She had enough of that in her marriage. Either one, however, will dare anything for the little imp that keeps them together, even enter a sham marriage to protect her.

I’ve been looking forward to reading Dangerous Secrets ever since I read Dangerous Works, and I was not disappointed. In the last week, I’ve fallen a little in love with Jamie, with his secret sorrow, his roguish twinkle, and the bone-deep sense of honour that would not let him forgive himself for the past but also would not let him abandon a woman in trouble.

And Nora, the woman he reluctantly came to adore: as a person who want strong determined heroines, I could not wish for a better one.

Caroline Warfield tells an exciting tale. With the well-being and even the safety of a little child at stake, our hero and heroine need to begin a deception that quickly becomes a reality. But Jamie is hiding more secrets than Nora knows, and those who seem friends may truly be enemies.

Compelling characterisations in secondary characters as well as protagonists, descriptions so real I could smell the paved courtyards in the hot sun, and one realistic crisis after another. Thank you, Caroline, for a great read. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve done with the third in the trilogy.

Note: Caroline Warfield and I belong to the same writers’ co-operative, The Bluestocking Belles. This review is, however, my honest and unvarnished opinion.

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Planning through to January next year

octopus_writer_by_notya_chan-d4lu170I’ve been doing all sorts of things with the grandpeople today. We’ve practiced spelling, made cupcakes, and washed windows. And in between I’ve been writing the Teatime Tattler column for EST Saturday 23rd May, playing in the Bluestocking Bookshop, contacting my beta readers to see who wants to read A Baron for Becky, writing a publications plan, and creating a spreadsheet with key deadlines for the next six publications.

So here we go:

A Baron for Becky is my next release. I’ll send it to beta readers next Wednesday, but I need to give them enough time for feedback, and fit in with the proofreader; publishing on 23 July, as I’d hoped, is just too tight to achieve the level of quality you deserve. So publication date will be 5 August. All going well, I’ll have ARC copies by late June, and reviewable final copies by 19 July.

Next job for me is the novella for the Bluestocking Belles’ Christmas project. We’re publishing an anthology, with eight Christmas novellas. It’ll be launched on 1 November, but I have to have my edited draft ready by 1 June.

Once that’s gone, I’m back into Encouraging Prudence, and I hope to have that ready for beta readers by 9 July. I’m not having my online launch till late October (I’m thinking 23 October), but I need to be finished early enough to order hard copies for BookTown here in my hometown on 17 and 18 October. So it has to be finished and ready to format by 30 August.

I plan to start writing A Raging Madness on 10 July, and release it on 29 January.

And I have two short stories that I wrote as party prizes. With more parties to go, I might have a book of short stories out for Christmas!

All of that, and the day job hasn’t ever been busier. No wonder I’m doing barely any reading!

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Our choices create us

La Déesse Noire is one of those novels you keep thinking about long after you put it down. To me, the crux of the story is how the four main characters are defined and directed by the choices they make.

Kali Matai was born and raised a tawaif; one of the women entertainers who served those of the highest rank in the Murghal Empire of India. Her life was shaped by the choices made by her tawaif mother and the English peer to whom her mother was given. In England, she is the pawn of powerful men, but when all she loves is at risk, her choices give her a future she believed could never be.

Lord Birchbright once loved a tawaif and gave her two daughters. Given a choice between his forbidden family and the wealth and power waiting for him if he returns to England without them, he abandons them. His choice is to pursue power at all costs.

The book unusually has two male protagonists: Fitz and Rook. They, too, must choose between love and position. One chooses a lonely and ultimately self-centred life. The other is prepared to abandon everything he knows for the woman he loves. I loved them both, but I know which one was the hero.

Kali is one of the most engaging heroines I’ve read. I loved her dignity, her self-respect, her quiet humour, and her sharp intelligence. And I loved how hard it was for her to let her armour down; to become vulnerable; so that she could reach for her dreams. Her happy ending gave me goosebumps. I also very much enjoyed the interesting and believable secondary characters, both the villains and the friends and allies of the heroine.

Mariana Gabrielle has written a book about people on the edges; people discriminated against and even persecuted because they are different. She has done so with skill, sensitivity, and wit. She left me wanting more. I thoroughly enjoyed her Royal Regard and gave it five stars. La Déesse Noire is better. I wish I could give it seven on Amazon and Goodreads, but this is my blog, and my star system can be anything I like. So seven it is.

Disclaimer: I am a member of the same writers’ group as Mari Christie, who writes Regency novels as Mariana Gabrielle, and I was proof-reader for La Déesse Noire. This did not influence my enjoyment of my book. But don’t believe me. Read it for yourself.LDN meme

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A Baron for Becky

This is an excerpt from the novel (or possibly long novella) I’m writing for release in late July. This story grew out of the adventures that the Marquess of Aldridge had at the Bluestocking Belles inn. Catherine Curzon and I wrote a long chase, a mixed courtship and negotiation, between my Aldridge and her 18th Century Mrs Angel. They could meet only in the timeless world of the inn, but they inspired this novel.

Mrs Darling is by no means Mrs Angel. She is an altogether more naive and vulnerable creature. But Aldridge continues to be Aldridge, and has no idea of the Pandora’s Box he is opening when he conceives a retirement plan for his mistress of three years.

What follows is not Aldridge’s story. But it is Becky’s, and it is Hugh’s.

This excerpt comes near the beginning of Becky’s story, when she and Aldridge are still negotiating.

BeckyAfter an anxious start to the visit, Becky decided to take it as a holiday. The Marquess of Aldridge left to ransom her and Sarah from the man Perry owed money to. At her insistence, he’d taken her few good pieces of jewellery—far fewer than she’d hoped. Next time, she would have any presents checked by a jeweller!

The press of Aldridge’s hands, and the warmth in his eyes when he made his farewells, gave her hope that he might be her next time.

Meanwhile, the Earl and Countess of Chirbury treated her like a guest, and Sarah was in heaven in the upstairs nursery, with the Countess’s daughter and sister, both of whom welcomed a new playmate. For a few days, she could pretend to a life far further up the ranks of the gentry than she would ever have achieved, even if she hadn’t fallen before her sixteenth birthday.

Aldridge returned triumphant.

“Smite agreed,” he told her, catching her alone in the rose garden where two or three late roses clung to the last remnants of their blooms. He sat down beside her on the stone seat, taking up the centre so that she had to lean against the curved arm to keep some distance between them. “You and Sarah are free.”

“How can we thank you?” she said.

“I’m sure we can think of something,” he replied, leaning into her so she could feel his strength, but not his weight, his warmth sparking a responding heat. His complacent assumption, after five days of being treated like a lady, sparked a contrary impulse to deny him, at least for the moment.

She slid sideways off the bench and stood, focusing on smoothing her skirts as she said, “Perhaps you would accept a few pounds a quarter until the debt is repaid?”

“I would accept a kiss on account,” he said.

“Certainly,” she replied. “Sarah would be delighted to give you a kiss. You are quite her hero.”

The moment she spoke she wanted to take it back. She didn’t want to lose him, after all. But no, he was grinning at her, his head cocked to one side and a light in his eyes that said she had his interest. Ahah. The man enjoyed the pursuit. Well then, Becky  would lead him on a right merry chase.

“If you will excuse me, my lord, I promised to help the countess with her knitting.”

She dropped a curtsey and made her escape before he could think of a smart response.

He was waiting for her in the hall outside the countess’s sitting room an hour later.

“I had in mind something more personal than soulless pounds,” he said, without preamble.

“Perhaps I could bake you a cake,” she suggested.

“Certainly what I have in mind involves tasting,” he answered smoothly. “Some licking, undoubtedly. Perhaps a little gentle biting.”

Goodness, it was hot for October.

“A single meal, my lord?”

“Once would not be enough, dear Mrs Darling. Do you not agree?”

If she was not very careful, she would agree to anything he said. “An arrangement, then.”

“Certainly, an arrangement.” He took her hand as he walked beside her, and placed a single chaste kiss on a fingertip before sucking the whole finger into his mouth in a far from chaste gesture.

“Do you garden, my lord?” Her voice was unsteady.

“Garden? No, I don’t garden.”

“I had a garden at Niddberrow. I thought the cottage was mine, you see. Perringworth promised me a house.”

“A woman should have her own house,” Aldridge agreed. “But a woman like you deserves a townhouse in London rather than a cottage in the country.”

“London is so large, though. If I lived in London, would I not need a carriage?”

“A phaeton perhaps, that you could drive in Hyde Park during the promenading hour,” Aldridge suggested.

“It does sound lovely,” she said, but lost what she was going to say next as he whisked her into a curtained alcove and proceeded to kiss her so thoroughly that she almost forgot her campaign plan.

He let Becky go, though, when she pulled back.

“Something on account?” she teased.

“A promise of things to come,” Aldridge said.

“Perhaps.” She peeked cautiously around the curtain and then hurried away down the silent hall.

Aldridge next approached her after dinner, sitting on the other side of the love seat she had deliberately chosen in a shadowed corner of the great parlour, out of the direct view of the earl, who was playing the pianoforte, and the countess, who was turning the pages for him.

“I love that dark blue on you, Mrs D,” he said.

She blushed. Her lovers had seldom bothered to compliment her to her face, though extravagant and excruciatingly bad poetry had been written to the Rose of Frampton by those who didn’t have her in their keeping.

“It needs something else, though,” Aldridge commented. He pulled out a tissue-wrapped package. “This is a nothing. Not the diamonds and sapphires I thought of buying. But when I saw it was just the colour of your eyes, I had to have it.”

‘This’ was a shawl in patterns of blue, so fine that it was small enough when rolled to fit into his jacket pocket, but large enough to wrap warmly around her shoulders. She jumped up to examine it in the mirror, and he followed her, standing inches away, but leaning forward to breathe on her ear as he said, “Exquisite.”

“Something on account?” she asked again.

“Not this time. A present, given freely, with no expectation of reward. Because I admire you, lovely Rose.”

She had to remind herself of every rumour she had heard about the man. And even then, if she hadn’t heard him working his charm on Smite’s men, she might have unravelled as he clearly expected. No wonder he had left such a string of broken hearts behind him.

“And in return,” she told him, “I freely give you my thanks, my lord.”

It was worth it to see the moment’s stunned amazement before the amused look reappeared. “Well played, Mrs D.,” he murmured, just before Lady Chirbury called her to the pianoforte.

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The 18th century cookie cutter

I’ve found some lovely cookie cutters while I’ve been researching for Gingerbread Bride.

Flat hard wafers seem to have first been made in 7th century Persia, and spread into Europe through the Muslim conquest of Spain. And gingerbread was a great favourite in England from medieval times.

Wooden moulds to shape the dough gave way to metal cutters in or around the 16th century. They were made on the spot to the buyer’s specification, every one different.

cookiecutter1

Historically cookie cutters were made by family members and itinerant tinsmiths who travelled the country.  Often the tinsmith would spend several days making cake tins, pans and pails. The cookie cutters for the most part were made from left-over tin scraps. Some interesting examples have turned up showing they were made from flattened baking powder tins and canisters.

As well as the dough and the cutters, I’ve been researching the story. First written down in the 1870s, the gingerbread man is part of a much older classification of folk tales: the runaway food stories. The British tradition seems to have leant towards pancakes and bunnocks, but the gingerbread story, when it first appeared in print, came with the note that a servant girl told it to the writer’s children, and that she had it from an old lady. So I feel quite justified in using the story in my novella for the Bluestocking Belles box set. Here’s the excerpt where my heroine remembers the story.

Mary smiled with satisfaction as she placed the last of the little gingerbread ladies into the box.  In the four weeks she had been at Aunt Dorothy’s, she had learned a number of recipes, and helped with all kinds of baking, but the gingerbread biscuits that the cook of the Ulysses taught her had become her special contribution to the success of the shop.

Making them took her back to the galley where Cookie ruled with a rod of iron over various helpers, but always had time for a lonely little girl. She could still hear his deep gravelly voice telling the story of the run-away gingerbread horse, or it might be a dog, or whatever cutter shape he had used at the time. She would be hovering over the tray of hot biscuits, waiting for them to cool enough to ice and eat.

“And he ran, and he ran,” Cookie would say, “with all the village behind him: the old lady, the fat squire, the pretty milkmaid, and the hungry sailor. But none of them could catch the gingerbread horse.”

The story would continue, with the gingerbread horse escaping one would-be eater after another, and mocking them all, until Cookie had iced the first biscuit, and she would then wait, patient and giggling, for the gingerbread horse to encounter the river, and the fox.

First, he’d put the horse over her back. Then, as the river water rose, on her head. And finally, she would tip her head back, and he would perch the biscuit on her nose, and say the words she had been waiting for. “And bite, crunch, swallow, that was the end of the gingerbread horse.”

Aunt Dorothy had round cutters, and star cutters, and cutters in the shape of various animals. When the miller’s daughter asked for gingerbread ladies and gentlemen for her wedding breakfast, Mary had been delighted with the conceit, and the cutters the tinker made to her pencil drawings worked very well.

The icing gave them clothes and features; a whole box of little gingerbread grooms, and a box of little gingerbread brides. The miller’s daughter would be very pleased.

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Tropes and storytelling

CarolineToday, I’m pleased to welcome Caroline Warfield to my blog, to post about tropes and storytelling, and to tell us a little about her latest release. And read to the bottom for news about her giveaway!

Jude has written eloquently about the classic tropes, archetypes, and storylines that underlie storytelling in general and romance novels in particular.  It made me pause a bit to consider which ones influence my own writing.

Both of my published books and my work in progress are have English characters and are set in the Late Georgian/Regency era. It might be easiest to begin with what I don’t write.   I avoid very young virginal heroines.  I avoid the “marriage mart.” I have little interest in the reformed rake.  I have also avoided impoverished orphans, inheritance issues and compulsive gamblers, at least so far. While some of my characters have titles, none of them could be defined in terms of power and its uses and abuses, as is often the case. Each of the books, however, uses a classic story line.

romeDangerous Works could be called a spunky bluestocking story, except Georgiana’s pain as a frustrated scholar runs deep and her dedication is fierce.  The classic story is that of the hero (or in this case heroine) who is repeatedly foiled but keeps trying. She pushes forward for years in the face of family resistance, a system that excludes her from so much as a decent library, and the academic snobbery of Cambridge. Ultimately, with the help and love of Andrew, the hero, she succeeds.

Rome - Caroline's postAnother classic storyline is the one in which actions in the past by the hero or heroine eventually catch up with them, and they must pay their debt.  In Dangerous Secrets a terrible mistake haunts the hero, Jamie from the very beginning.  He runs as long as he can. His love for Nora actually makes him run harder, but it catches up with him in the end and he has to resolve it.  This story does have some common story elements: a wastrel father, a stern vicar, a widow recovering from a bad marriage, a wise older woman friend, and an evil count.

In my work in progress, Dangerous Weakness, the hero, Glenaire, is forced to journey in search of Lily who is pregnant with his child.  It is certainly a hero in search of treasure story. However, the oh-so-perfect marquess is thrust into one alien situation after another, peeling off layers of London refinement. He has to fight his way back to normal life, and, of course, redefine what he wants that life to be.

There are no new stories in any genre. My job as an author is to create flesh and blood, imperfect characters that come to exemplify the traits of true heroes and succeed in completing the challenges presented to them by the storyline. I hope my readers find that I’ve succeeded.

About Dangerous Secrets

Dangerous secretsWhen a little brown wren of an Englishwoman bursts into Jamie Heyworth’s private hell and asks for help he mistakes her for the black crow of death.  Why not? He fled to Rome and sits in despair with nothing left to sell and no reason to get up in the morning. Behind him lie disgrace, shame, and secrets he is desperate to keep even from powerful friends in London.

Nora Haley comes to Rome at the bidding of her dying brother who has an unexpected legacy. Never in her sunniest dreams did Nora expect Robert to leave her a treasure, a tiny blue-eyed niece with curly hair and warm hugs. Nora will do anything to keep her, even hire a shabby, drunken major as an interpreter.

Jamie can’t let Nora know the secrets he has hidden from everyone, even his closest friends. Nora can’t trust any man who drinks. She had enough of that in her marriage. Either one, however, will dare anything for the little imp that keeps them together, even enter a sham marriage to protect her. Will love—and the truth—bind them both together?

Available on Amazon

US http://tinyurl.com/ph56vnb

UK http://amzn.to/1Gd9Im9

Canada http://amzn.to/1bbDxde

Euro http://amzn.to/1LrSLru

About Caroline Warfield

Caroline Warfield has at various times been an army brat, a librarian, a poet, a raiser of children, a nun, a bird watcher, a network services manager, a conference speaker, a tech writer, a genealogist, and, of course, a romantic. She is always a traveler, a would-be adventurer, and a writer of historical romance, enamored of owls, books, history, and beautiful gardens (but not the act of gardening).

Social Media Links

Web http://www.carolinewarfield.com/

FB  https://www.facebook.com/carolinewarfield7

Twitter @CaroWarfield

LibraryThing http://www.librarything.com/profile/CaroWarfield

Amazon Author http://www.amazon.com/Caroline-Warfield/e/B00N9PZZZS/

Good Reads http://bit.ly/1C5blTm

Bluestocking Belles http://bluestockingbelles.com/who-we-are/caroline-warfield/

To enter Caroline’s prize giveaway, go to: http://www.carolinewarfield.com/dangerous-secrets-blog-tour-2015/

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An Interview with Adolph Fouret, Monsieur le Duc de Malbourne, and Madame Michelle Lemaître

Mariana Gabrielle, author of Royal Regard, provides us with an insight into her duc de Malbourne, in this account of an interview by a researcher of her imagination.

While researching the remaining French noble families scattered across Europe, I have interviewed hundreds of émigrés from Scandinavia to Portugal and Ireland to the Austrian Empire. While other scholars are focused on dynastic details, I am fascinated by the human condition.

After thirteen requests to meet with Adolph Fouret, Monsieur le duc de Malbourne, the last surviving member of la famille Fouret, I was invited to his small manor house near Dover, inherited from his late duchess. While the house is no more than thirty rooms and two stories, the surrounding property encompasses tenant farms, a fishing village, a quarry, and a sizable parcel of woodland.

According to diocesan records, Monsieur le duc is past fifty, but apart from hair greying at the temples, might be at least ten, even twenty, years younger. His face remains relatively unlined, his figure tall, back straight, and limbs well-muscled, perhaps a sign of continued interest in swordplay, such skill still legend in Paris.

malbourneWe have been joined by Madame Michelle Lemaître, presumably his paramour, if not wife in common law. As we settle into worn wing chairs in a rarely used parlor, Madame Lemaître pours a fine hock, welcome refreshment on an overly warm day.

Monsieur le duc seems disinclined to idle chatter, waiting patiently for me to begin, never asking me directly to state my business. Madame Lemaître, however, makes it clear by manner and gesture that she would prefer not to entertain company, particularly not mine.

Research indicates you lost most of your immediate family during the Revolution.

“All,” he clarifies. “I lost all of my close relations. Four sisters, their husbands, and all of my nieces and nephews went to the guillotine, twenty-six in total, two still babes. Also, four aunts, two uncles, and nineteen first cousins murdered. My wife and child as well, if one believes fear can cause death in childbed.”

After long minutes of silence, Monsieur le duc hands his glass to Madame Lemaître to refill. As she does, her dagger-like glances attempt to cut out my tongue. His dark eyes, by contrast, are dull and motionless, staring past me, face chiseled from ice above his entirely black ensemble.

“It is not enough Monseigneur must live through this?” She finally snaps. “You come to stir up old troubles, long buried? Finish your questions and leave him in peace.”

Sipping the wine slowly, carefully, he awaits the next question as though I, myself, am a guillotine.

What is your greatest fear?

“Monseigneur is not a coward,” Madame Lemaître growls, staring down her nose at me until Malbourne clicks his tongue.

“Ma chére, the gentleman is not so unwise as to call me a coward.” The look on his face first demands, then accepts, an apology to the lady, whose indignation remains palpable.

Once satisfied his honor is intact in her eyes, he taps the back of her hand and says simply, “I am a Fouret; I fear nothing.”

RR memeWho is the greatest love of your life?

“I have never thought love so important I should count its worth.” Madame Lemaître’s face turns away, eyes downcast, shoulders tensed. “Romance is for peasants who have no money to keep them warm, nor family name to bring them notice.”

His idle index finger tucks a strand of loose hair from her coiffure behind her ear, drawing her attention back to him.

What is your most treasured possession?

His fingers tighten on Michelle’s knee as he shrugs, “I was able to save a folio of sketches by Jean Clouet when I escaped the Revolution. It has been in my family almost 250 years.” His hand slips under hers next to her leg, intertwining their fingers. Her lips turn up infinitesimally.

Where would you like to live?

His nostrils flare and the heel of his latchet shoe begins tapping against the floor, stopping only when she grips his hand so tightly two sets of knuckles turn white.

Forcing his gritted teeth apart, he finally answers, “Had verminous peasants not overrun my family’s land during the farmers’ uprising, I would be living now at le Chateau de Fouret in the Vosges Mountains. This estate…” He waves his hand about the small, dusty room. “This manor house is a hovel.”

What is your greatest regret?

His face twitches as though trying to stop the sneer manifest in his voice. “That I did not execute every peasant in Alsace in 1785.”

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

“Monseigneur is sixteenth in line for the French throne,” Madame Lemaître exclaims, as proud as if he had discovered a cure for the Black Death. Her hand flies to her mouth, apparently unsure if she should boast on his behalf. The incline of his head both reassures and confirms her claim, and his thumb caresses hers.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

“I find men, on the whole, an inferior breed.” His hand smooths a wrinkle in Madame Lemaitre’s sleeve, trailing a fingertip down her forearm. “Women are much more satisfactory companions.”

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

RR meme2“That must depend, monsieur,” he laughs, “whether the woman will grace my bedchamber or my dining hall. For a lover,” he says, tugging at a lock of Michelle’s greying red hair, “I prefer a flame-haired wench of loose morals who will meet my appetites.” When she blushes, he taps the tip of her nose and almost smiles.

At the smallest movement of her head toward his shoulder, he shifts away and the hair pull becomes a warning to keep her place. “Were I to take a second wife, which is not my inclination, I would seek a woman whose conduct will bring credit to me, a noblewoman of sophistication and refinement.”

Madame Lemaître sniffs and turns her shoulder to Malbourne, but at a sharp pinch to her arm, she turns back, watching his face closely, stopping her motion when he raises a brow. As she settles against the back of the sofa, he rests their joined hands on her thigh.

“In either case,” he says, attention on Madame Lemaître, eyebrow still raised, “I value obedience most highly. It is best for females to be subject to the will of their fathers or husbands, lest their capricious natures bring them to harm.”

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

“I detest commoners. They are lazy and stupid and smell of pigs.”

Clearly, given her heavy rural Lorrain accent, Madam Lemaître is not of noble birth, but a stark nod denotes complete agreement.

“The bourgeoisie, though, are grasping, ill-mannered vipers.” Ignoring the flush on her cheeks, the only indication thus far of her pedigree, he continues, “It is hard to know which is worse.”

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Madam Lemaître laughs aloud before he answers, an ironic twist to his lips, “Chastity is a ridiculous notion, but for faithful servants of God and unwed noble daughters.”

On what occasions do you lie?

“You say now Monseigneur is a liar and a coward?” Madam Lemaître tugs at his wrist, as though to pull him out of the room. “He is cousin to the Kings of France, monsieur, and you are no one.” She waves her hand as though to sweep me from the room. “Not a horse dropping on Monseigneur’s shoe.”

With a firm jerk, he reseats her at his side and silences her outburst. “Noblemen do not lie,” he says, with the barest twitch of his shoulder.

At her harrumph, he adds, “Clearly, I must remove Michelle before she does you some injury. I should not like to be you, monsieur, should she find reason to use teeth and talons in my defense. Ma doux pute has a sharp tongue but her fangs, they are like rapiers.

“If you do not believe me…” he says, a teasing note in his voice, tugging at the knot in his black cravat, “I can show you…” The corners of his lips turn up, closer to a smile than at any time since my arrival, seeking her reaction from the corner of his eye. For a moment, he appears inexplicably young, like a small boy playing a prank.

She slaps at his knee and giggles, so he abandons his mischief and they rise, Malbourne holding her snug against his side. One of her arms reaches around his waist; the other rests lightly on his hip, and with her head tucked under his chin, he absently caresses her cheek. Placing a kiss on the crown of her head, he says, “I expect, monsieur, you can find your way out.”

To learn more about le duc, read Royal Regard.

10344772_332286826980418_8952381697101373143_nAfter fifteen years roaming the globe, the Countess of Huntleigh returns to England with her dying husband. She soon finds herself plagued by terrible troubles: a new title, estate, and sizable fortune; marked attentions from the marriage mart; the long-awaited reunion with her loving family; and a growing friendship with King George IV.

Settling into her new life, this shy-but-not-timid, not-so-young lady faces society’s censure, the Earl’s decline, false friends with wicked agendas, and the singular sufferings of a world-wise wallflower. Guided by her well-meaning husband, subject to interference by a meddlesome monarch, she must now choose the dastardly rogue who says he loves her, the charming French devil with a silver tongue, or the quiet country life she has travelled the world to find.

Buy/Review Links

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Social Media 

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Author Bio

Mariana Gabrielle is a pseudonym for Mari Christie, a mainstream historical and Regency romance writer. She is also a professional writer, editor, and graphic designer with twenty years’ experience and a Bachelor’s in Writing from the University of Colorado Denver, summa cum laude. She lives in Denver, Colorado with two kittens who have no respect at all for writing time.

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Introducing The Teatime Tattler

Tittle-Tattle2The Bluestocking Belles have started a gossip rag. On The Teatime Tattler, we plan to have character sketches, interviews with characters, scenes with characters, and gossip about characters. What makes this different is that the entries won’t be excerpts. They’ll be original pieces, written especially for for The Teatime Tattler.

I put up the first article – a little scene set in Longford, where one of the local ladies is snooping to find out whether her competition for the fete pastry prize is instead competing on the preserves bench. She finds a tasty bit of gossip she doesn’t expect when the earl’s man knocks on the back door.

Click on the link above to read the sketch, and come back each Saturday and Wednesday to find out what the Belles and our guests have written for your delight.

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An interview with Susana Ellis

P13 copyToday, I’m welcoming another Bluestocking Belle to the blog. Susana Ellis writes sweet regency romances. She says she has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. Voracious reading led to a passion for writing, and her fascination with romance and people of the past landed her firmly in the field of historical romance. Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and central Florida in the winter.

Read on to find out about the box set she is launching, with other authors, on 1 April, for a description of her story in that set, and for my interview with Susana. Her contact links are at the bottom of the post.

Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles

The stories in Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles are sweet Regency romances with Waterloo themes.

You are all invited to

Amazon buy link

400 x 600About Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles

Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles is a celebration of the bicentenary of the showdown between Wellington’s “Infamous Army” and Napoleon’s Grande Armée.

 A collection of nine sweet Regency stories of courage, hope, and the miracle of love surviving in uncertain times, brought to you by nine distinguished historical romance authors.

Jillian Chantal • Téa Cooper • Susana Ellis • Aileen Fish • Victoria Hinshaw • Heather King • Christa Paige • Sophia Strathmore • David Wilkin

 About Lost and Found Lady

 On April 24, 1794, a girl child was born to an unknown Frenchwoman in a convent in Salamanca, Spain. Alas, her mother died in childbirth, and the little girl—Catalina—was given to a childless couple to raise.

Eighteen years later…the Peninsular War between the British and the French wages on, now perilously near Catalina’s home. After an afternoon yearning for adventure in her life, Catalina comes across a wounded British soldier in need of rescue. Voilà! An adventure! The sparks between them ignite, and before he returns to his post, Rupert promises to return for her.

But will he? Catalina’s grandmother warns her that some men make promises easily, but fail to carry them out. Catalina doesn’t believe Rupert is that sort, but what does she know? All she can do is wait…and pray.

But Fate has a few surprises in store for both Catalina and Rupert. When they meet again, it will be in another place where another battle is brewing, and their circumstances have been considerably altered. Will their love stand the test of time? And how will their lives be affected by the outcome of the conflict between the Iron Duke and the Emperor of the French?

An interview with Susana Ellis

When did you begin to write, and why?

Learning to read was like a lightning bolt to my imagination. I read everything I could get my hands on from that day forward. When I was nine I used to write plays for my friends and me to act out at recess. With all that was going on in my head, it seemed natural to write them out, but in those days the chance of becoming a published author seemed remote, so I became a teacher. I’ve only begun writing seriously for publication in the past three years, since leaving teaching.

Why do you write in your chosen genre or genres?

History and the way people lived in the past has always fascinated me. I want to know how they thought, what they did everyday, what they wore/ate/read, where they traveled, who they married and why, and pretty much everything. I’m especially fascinated by the courtship ritual—how they become acquainted and fall in love and marry first before falling into bed. I find it so much more romantic that way.

Do you base any of your characters on real people?

Not usually, although the characters in my story Lost and Found Lady (in the Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles anthology that releases April 1, 2015), are based loosely on Harry and Juana Smith. Harry was a brigade major in the Peninsular War who met Juana (a descendent of Ponce de León) after the Battle of Badajoz, and married her four days later. Like Harry, my hero is one of Wellington’s Explorer Scouts, and like Juana, my heroine is a Spanish girl. But that’s where the resemblance ends. Rupert and Catalina have their own story to tell.

Who is your favourite character in the book you’re showing us today?

Catalina, because she refuses to accept the bleak life she faces as an illegitimate peasant girl with little hope of a decent marriage. The marriages she observes in her daily life aren’t particularly appealing, and for a while, she envisions finding freedom in a convent.

 What’s your favourite scene and why?

One of my favourites is in the beginning where Catalina mentions to the priest who teaches her that she would like to emulate Sor Juana de la Cruz of 17th century Mexico, who became a nun because she couldn’t otherwise study and write as she wanted. Although 150 years have passed, she reflect sadly that the role of women hasn’t changed all that much. And while many things have changed since 1812, equality has still not been reached, and will not be in my lifetime, I fear.

What was the hardest scene to write and why?

I don’t usually write about battles, but when your hero is in the army at Waterloo, you can’t leave the readers hanging! I agonized over the scene for several days. My mother told me somebody was going to have to die, meaning one of my characters. I told her no happy ending ever had a character die in the end! But they did see the grim side of things, with all the dead and wounded after the battle, and I imagine those images won’t leave their memories any time soon.

What is the most memorable book you’ve read in the last three months, and why has it stayed with you?

I’ve been reading Georgette Heyer’s The Spanish Bride, which is largely an account of the adventures of Brigade-Major Harry Smith and his Spanish bride Juana as they traipse around the Iberian Peninsular with the British army. Believe it or not, I do a lot of my “research” from reading fiction. It’s so helpful to get a glimpse of what it was like to follow an army, which you don’t get from non-fiction sources.

What do you like doing in your spare time?

Reading, cooking, traveling, blogging, and, of course, writing.

What was your favourite book when you were a kid?

I used to read Nancy Drew books voraciously, so much so that I used to get punished for reading “too much.” My mother used to tell me one chapter a day was enough, and I always told her it was impossible to do that because the chapter always ended with a hint that something exciting was going to happen in the next one.

If you could give that kid one piece of advice, what would it be?

The sky is the limit—don’t let yourself be intimidated by the impossible.

Where do you want to be in 10 years’ time?

Alive, in good health, and still writing. If you’re asking about my plans for becoming a best-selling author, well, that would be great and I’ll still aim for that, but I won’t consider my writing career a failure if that doesn’t happen.

Meet Susana

Website • Facebook • Twitter

Susana’s Parlour • Susana’s Morning Room

 

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An interview with Sherry Ewing

11086780_10206606130775444_1686985195_oToday, I’m starting something new: interviews with guest authors, starting with my friend and fellow Bluestocking Belle, Sherry Ewing.

Sherry Ewing is a self-published author who writes historical and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. Her three books are all currently on bestseller lists on Amazon, and her latest release, Only For You, is currently in the top 20 on a historical romance list.

Sherry, when did you begin to write, and why?

Although I wanted to be an author for as long as I can remember, I didn’t actually start writing until 2008 when a friend of mine asked why I hadn’t written that novel I always wanted to write. Since my children were for the most part grown, I had the time to throw myself into the manuscript. It’s a total train wreck since I’ve learned so much in the past several years on the craft of writing, but I hope to edit it in the next several months with a release in early 2016.

Today, you’re showing us Only For You. (See below for an outline and buy links.) Who is your favourite character in the book?

It’s hard to determine whether my hero or heroine is my favourite characters since I love them both. But if I must choose, then it would be Katherine. She’s a modern day woman thrown back in time who quickly adapts to her new surroundings as she begins her life with her very medieval husband.

What’s your favourite scene and why?

Katherine and Riorden share their dreams so there is one dream scene in particular, when they think that all hope is lost, that is very memorable to me towards the end of Only For You. But I’ll let your readers find it out for themselves since I don’t want to give any spoilers.

Most writers start as avid readers. What was your favourite book when you were a kid?

I’m probably dating myself when I tell you I read The Flame and the Flower by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss as a teenager. It was my first historical romance and I’ve been hooked ever since. She is most likely the reason why I write in this genre today. She was my ideal author and I wanted to write wonderful stories that carried me away to another place in time just as she did.

If you could give that kid one piece of advice, what would it be?

Just because an English teacher tells you that your writing will never amount to anything, don’t let that stop you from going after your dreams of becoming an author. Keep on writing and never give up. It may take years for those dreams to become reality, but in the end it will be worth it!

Only For You – A medieval romance with a hint of time travel, Release date March 17, 2015

One gorgeous cover!

One gorgeous cover!

Katherine de Deveraux has it all, or so she believes, when she begins her life with her husband Riorden. But as she settles into her duties at Warkworth Castle, she finds that an easy life is not only difficult but downright dangerous to her well-being.

Consumed with the haunting memories of his father, Riorden must deal with his sire’s widow who just happens to be his ex-lover. Yet how could he know just how far Marguerite is willing to go in order to have the life she feels they were truly meant to live?

Torn apart by circumstances neither Katherine nor Riorden could ever imagine, Time becomes their true enemy even while Marguerite continues her ploy to keep Riorden at her side. With all hope lost, will Katherine and Riorden find a way to save their marriage and have their happily ever after ending, or will Katherine be whisked back to where Time truly feels she belongs?

Buy Links:

Amazon; Barnes & Noble; iBooks; Kobo; Amazon Australia; Amazon Canada; Amazon UK

Find Sherry on social media:

Website & Blog: http://www.sherryewing.com

Bluestocking Belles: http://bluestockingbelles.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sherryewingauthor

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/SherryLEwing

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/sherry_ewing

Tsu: https://www.tsu.co/sherryewing