Other people’s books

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Contemporary and Regency heroes discuss transport and children – Part 4

Here’s part 4 of the story that Keisha Page and I co-wrote about a meeting between our two heroes. Separated by 200 years and the Atlantic ocean, they discuss the very different cultures they inhabit. See Keisha’s The Word Mistress blog for the same encounter from the perspective of Alex, hero of Rhythm of Love. My hero is the Marquis of Aldridge, from A Baron for Becky. If you want to start at the beginning, here are links to Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 on my blog.  

fjord_horse_vs__airplane_by_mariszAlex smiled. “Transportation is vastly different now. We have cars; they’re combustion powered wagons that can travel many hundreds of miles in a day. Imagine if a wagon were pulled by three hundred horses all working together. It’s kind of like that, but without the actual horses. I can drive to Denver in two days, if I stop to sleep. Faster if I fly.”

“You can fly?” Aldridge does his best not to look skeptical. How many brandies has Alex had?

Alex laughed.

“Not me. I get into a machine called an airplane, and it flies. The airplane can get me to Denver in about four hours.”

Alex slid the rest of his brandy across the table toward Aldridge.

“You may need this. An airplane can fly from New York City to London in less than eight hours.”

“Eight hours? I find that difficult to… I mean no insult, friend Alex, truly, but… Eight hours?” He pushed the brandy back towards Alex. “In truth, I appear to have had more than enough. Men from the 21st century. Machines that fly. Carriages that need no horses.” He shook his head slowly.

“It may be I have fallen asleep on my horse and am dreaming this whole interlude, but this is certainly the best dream stew and most unusual dream conversation I have ever had. Perhaps the dream will let me visit this New York of the far future. Will you give me a tour, Alex?”

“I would be honored to give you a tour! There’s so much for you to see! Skyscrapers and elevators and the Brooklyn Bridge. I kind of can’t believe I’m having this conversation, because it’s so, well, surreal, but yes, Aldridge! Let me show you the wonders of the twenty-first century. And if you thought the stew was good, just wait. There’s so much food for you to try!”
“Better than this stew?” Aldridge grinned. “You can keep your roast peacock and turtle soup. At the end of a day’s ride, there’s nothing better than good plain hearty fare like this. And the bread is superb.”

“Tell me about your children, Alex. How many do you have? And what are they named?”

Alex’s eyes softened and he smiled as he says, “I have three. My Ella is seventeen. She’s going to be a senior this year. She wants to spend the summer after she graduates in Europe, and I’m not so sure that’s such a hot idea. I know I’m an overprotective father, but I’m not sure she’s as ready to conquer the world as she thinks she is. Leslie and Ella’s mom both tell me that I need to let her go, but I’ve been overseas. I know what the guys there are like.”
Alex shifted in his chair. “My son Ryan is twelve. He’s almost taller than his mom already. He’s gonna be a beast. He’s on the track team and the wrestling team. He’s the fastest kid in his grade, too.”

“Samantha is ten. She is something else, man. Spoiled rotten, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve gotten to spend a lot more time with her when she was younger than I did with Ella, and it made such a difference. I’ve been able to give my kids everything they’ve ever needed because of my job, but I’m not completely convinced that missing out on months of their lives at a time was worth it. What about your kids?”

Aldridge swirls his brandy in his glass. It really is an excellent drop. “I have three, too. I think my world is very different to yours, Alex. I missed the Grand Tour myself. Napoleon, you know. But in our world, it is the men who are sent off to see the world, and the women stay home.

“My Antonia — I say mine, but I did not know of her existence until she was six years of age, and to this day she knows me only as an uncle. I would not for the world attract the attention of the gossips and scandalmongers by telling anyone of our closer bond. But — ah Alex, what a girl!

“She’s smart, she’s kind, she’s every bit as lovely as her mother. I feel very privileged that they let me see her, and be an uncle to her. And anything my name and title can do to smooth her path… Her stepfather won’t ask, of course. But it is hers, nonetheless.” Undoubtedly his smile is every bit as soft and silly as the one Alex wore when talking about his girls. Antonia is ten, too. The same age as Alex’s youngest.

“And I have two boys. I was luckier with them, or perhaps kinder to their mothers would be more the truth. With each one, when I found my mistress was with child… I take precautions, Alex. I would not have you think I am careless, but they don’t always work. Well, twice now, I’ve found my chere aimee a husband who will welcome my child as his own.

“I would give a great deal to be in your shoes, and to be able to acknowledge them without hurting them and their families.”

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Fictional worlds collide – two heroes, two hundred years: part 3

Today, I continue the story that Keisha Page, the Word Mistress, and I cowrote; a meeting between our two heroes. See Keisha’s blog for Part 3 from Alex’s perspective. Aldridge’s point of view follows.

Aldridge glared at them, and Alex said, “Go on, mind your business.”

How could Aldridge explain his difficulties to a man who thought divorce was just a matter of paperwork? He shrugged. “I’ll be the Duke of Haverford, when my father dies. My wife needs to be… can you imagine what the harpies of the ton would do to a woman who has… I should explain, Alex. I don’t know what things are like here in the 21st century, but in my world, women who sell their bodies are… reviled is the best word, I suppose.

“It’s hypocritical. I know only a handful of men who haven’t had a ladybird or two in their keeping. And many women of the highest ranks in the land take a lover once they’ve given their lord an heir.

“Nobody says a word, as long as they are discrete.”

Though Heaven help them if they were not. Men could bed as many women as they liked, but let a woman be seen to let a man under her skirts and her reputation was lost forever.

Young Lady in a White Hat by Jean Baptiste Greuze

Young Lady in a White Hat by Jean Baptiste Greuze

“But Becky… well, she has had a hard life, and I would never even consider exposing her to the kind of hatred and ridicule she’d get if she were my duchess, and people were to find out..” he trails off, and stares once more into his brandy.

“Not that I haven’t considered it…” But think as he might, he could not find a path that didn’t end in disaster.

Alex signalled the girl to bring Aldridge another brandy, and she responded quickly..

“Prostitution really isn’t legal here, but it happens,” Alex said. “Your Becky would probably be called an “escort,” today. Someone you spend time with in exchange for money. Legally, there’s not supposed to be sex involved. But we all know there is, and if it’s proven, both the man and the woman could go to jail. But other than a scandal if it’s a celebrity, it’s not really a huge deal. But I don’t think that most people take lovers today. We expect our spouses to be monogamous.”

Becky would expect her spouse to be monogamous. She was, in many ways, a conventional soul despite the life she’d been forced into. Could Aldridge be faithful to one woman? He’d never tried beyond the usual initial period of infatuation with a new lover. Other men managed, so it must be possible.

Alex was clearly bothered by Aldridge’s dilemma. “Surely, there’s something you could do. I mean, I don’t know who this ‘ton’ is but what could they possibly do? And don’t people step down from that royal stuff all the time? Some duke did it a long time ago, when he fell in love with a divorced woman. I guess it was pretty scandalous, but once the initial shock and surprise was over, I don’t think anyone really cared. People have other things to do with their lives. I mean, the Prince of England has been divorced, and remarried a divorced woman, and he’s still next in line to the throne. And no one even likes his current wife!”

Society had clearly changed greatly in 200 years. “My own prince would happily divorce, but he’d lose the throne if he did it, and he won’t risk that.”

Aldridge took several more mouthfuls of his stew, thinking about what Alex has said.

“In my world, women who sell their bodies can be imprisoned, but mostly only the poor unfortunates who work the streets are actually arrested. The brothels pay bribes to the constables to be left alone, and people like my Becky… no one would dare to accuse any woman that has me for her protector, you can be sure of that.”

“But a world where people marry for love and divorce is easy? Monogamy would work, I think.” Indeed, most of the time he was faithful to one lover at a time, even if the affair lasted a mere night. He raised his brandy glass to toast that kind of monogamy. “One woman at a time.”

“It’s like that here, too,” Alex confirmed. “Usually the women you see on the streets are drug addicts, or forced into prostitution. We have one state where it’s legal, and highly regulated. But mostly, no. I think what your Becky does would be looked at as no big deal.

“But I don’t understand why you can’t just go somewhere, where no one knows you, and begin life fresh with the woman you love. Surely, since you own multiple homes, money wouldn’t be an issue?”

Aldridge was rich, that was true, though the homes Alex spoke of belonged to the duchy. But he’d followed the investment advice of his cousin and half-brother and ignored that of his father. As a result, Aldridge was now buying the unentailed properties his father was selling whenever another gaming debt fell due. Technically, they belonged to Aldridge, but in his mind they were part of the duchy. Even without those properties, though, he would not be penniless.

“I do have some personal money that doesn’t belong to the duchy. There is merit in what you say. I couldn’t just disappear, of course. I will be duke whether I want to or not. But perhaps I could engineer my own death? I have a younger brother… “

No. It wouldn’t do. He could not leave the duchy to Jonathan. “But he’s a feckless fool, Alex. I love him, but…

“I’ve trained to be duke my whole life. His grace my father put me in charge of one of his estates when I was 21, and since then I’ve taken over more and more. I run it all now; the estates, the properties, the industries, the trading enterprises. His grace plays at politics, drinks with his cronies, and chases women young enough to be his daughters.”

Edward Archer by Andrew Plimer, 1815And wastes his patrimony at the tables, and abuses his heir for not raising the rents when the harvests have been poor.

“1000s of people depend on me for their livelihood; one could say their lives, if that doesn’t sound too dramatic. The duchy was in poor condition when I took over, but it hums along very nicely now.

“Can I abandon them just to take what I want?”

Alex was shaking his head, rejecting Aldridge’s argument.

“Aldridge, I’ve had some regrets in my life. To tell you the truth, I’ve done some very stupid things. But I’ll never regret a moment spent with Leslie. Not one single moment. If I had an opportunity to marry her, to be with her in a way that wouldn’t rip apart a family, I would jump on it.

“Can’t you hire a manager or something? Someone qualified to run the estate in your stead? Then your folks, those who depend on you for their livelihood, would be taken care of, and you would still have an estate for your children to inherit. I travel a lot, with the band, but I own a thriving business here, and I would never be able to do that without a great manager to take care of things when I’m gone. Surely, you could find someone who could manage things for you? Then, you could have your Becky.”

Aldridge shrugged off his melancholy with a visible effort. “I will think on it,” he promised. It would never work. This man from the future couldn’t understand. Aldridge had managers for all duchy’s enterprises, and he supposed he might be able to find someone he trusted enough to oversee them. But only the duke could represent the Grenfords at court and in The Lords. An absentee duke? Never. He couldn’t do it.

He changed the subject. “But what of you? 1800 miles, you said? I cannot imagine the rigours of such a journey. That is… why that’s four and a half times the distance between London and Edinburgh, and even the fastest mail coaches, travelling without stopping except for fresh horses, can’t do it in less than 2 days. A week is more likely; more if the weather is unkind. You must love her very much to make such a trip every few months.”

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here

And this table links to Keisha’s postings from Alex’s viewpoint

 

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Two heroes. Two centuries divide them. Two different fictional worlds. Part 2

Today, I’m continuing the story Keisha Page and I wrote for her blog, The Word Mistress. Our heroes – the Marquis of Aldridge from A Baron for Becky and 1810, and Alex from Rhythm of Love and the 21st century – have found their way to a mysterious inn where the food is excellent and time no longer applies.

awY3dMbAlex’s grasp was firm for a hallucination. And he returned to the slice of fresh bread he’s cut with an enthusiasm Aldridge did not associate with ghosts. “Margate?” he asked, between mouthfuls. “Is that your home?”

“It will be,” Aldridge said, without much enthusiasm. “One of them. I mostly live in London, though.” He smiled, his expression softening. Officially, his London residence was the heir’s wing at Haverford House. But the townhouse he’d purchased for his mistress, Becky, was more of a home to him than anywhere else on the planet. “I’ll be home tomorrow,” he said.

Aldridge hoped this was true; that he’d walk out of here and it would still be 1810. “And do you live in New York, Alex?”

“I’ve been to London a few times. I’m guessing it looks much different now. Cars and pollution, and, oh, all of the new buildings that have been built. I live here, in an apartment in the Bronx. My kids live with their mother, in a house a few miles from my place. At least they’re close enough that I can see them all the time.” Alex dunked his piece of bread in his stew.

The London Aldridge knew had dirt and filth enough; pollution, certainly. Cars? He’d seen a few processions, but perhaps this modern London had more? He focussed on the part of Alex’s statement he could make sense of. The term ‘kids’ clearly meant children. “I also have children who live with their mothers, but I see little of them. You are fortunate to have yours close.”

Alex nodded.

“I am pretty lucky. My girl, Leslie, wants to move here, but if she does, then her kids’ dad wouldn’t be able to see their kids. It’s kind of a pain in the ass. Not the kids, but the making sure that everyone gets to see each other when they’re supposed to. I don’t know how anyone makes a second marriage work.”

Another statement with outlandish implications. The man had been married to the mother of his children and now wanted to be married again to someone who had children by another man? How outraged Society’s dragons would be to hear Alex refer so casually to second marriages.

“So, Aldridge, how many times have you been married?”

Aldridge ignored the question, still thinking about Alex’s statement. Perhaps his interpretation was wrong.  “May I… I do not wish to give offence, so please tell me if I breach courtesy in asking this… may I confirm that I understand correctly? Your children live with their mother. And the woman you would marry lives near the father of her children.

‘But you speak of a second marriage. You are both divorced, then? And all the parties work together so that the children can see their fathers and their mothers?”

“Dude. That is the least offensive thing you could say.” Alex smiled at Aldridge, clearly not offended.

“Yes, Leslie is divorced from her first husband, the father of her children. They both live in Denver. I am divorced from my first wife, who is the mother of my children. She lives near me here. We’re actually required by law to make things work. If Leslie moved the children here without her ex-husband’s permission, a judge could put her in jail. And so far, her husband won’t agree to let her move here.

“Truthfully, I can’t say I blame the guy, but it’s frustrating. Leslie and I… I can’t stand being without her. She lives 1800 miles away, so we only get to see each other every few months. The last time I got to see her, it was only for a couple of days; I was in the middle of a tour, so I couldn’t stay long.”

He held up his brandy snifter to catch the attention of the waitress. She nodded in his direction. He sat the glass down and looked at Aldridge.

“I didn’t realize divorce was common in 1810. Or even legal, I guess.”

“It isn’t common,” Aldridge confirmed. “It requires a Bill in Parliament, which means washing the family’s dirty linen in full view of every gossip in England.”

Not an option for any person of consequence. No decent man would do that to his wife and children, not any respectable woman, either, unless in peril of her life.

“A man can get a divorce and custody of his children if he proves his wife was unfaithful. A woman has to prove extreme cruelty, and even then she might not keep the children. A man might survive the scandal, but a woman? I can only imagine what would drive a woman to such a course.”

He took another slow sip of brandy, saying out loud the doom his father had been enjoining on him all this last visit to Margate.

“I’ll have to marry some day. When I do, it will be for the rest of my life.”

Alex said, “Oh boy. It works much differently now. It’s mostly paperwork. You file papers in court, and if a judge agrees that the division of assets is equitable, then six months later, you’re single again.”

It couldn’t possibly be as easy as that. Could it? Aldridge took another bite of the excellent bread. Alex was still talking.

“I hope it works out forever with Leslie. I love her more than I ever thought I could love someone. When we’re together, I feel like I can conquer the world. Do you have a girlfriend?”

At two score and ten, he was old for a girl, but he’d have to choose one, he supposed. A girl who was a friend? He had largely ignored this year’s crop of debutantes, but it seemed unlikely he’d find a friend in their ranks. How he wished…  Well. No point in that. “I envy you, Alex. And I hope it works out for you, too.”

“I’ll marry some women with the right lineage, and for the land or political advantage she offers my family. It doesn’t matter for me… I think I’m not capable of the kind of love you mention. But I feel sorry for the poor lady I marry.” Despite his determination, his mind drifted back to his mistress, and he heard himself saying, “If I could love, I expect I’d be head over heels for Becky, the woman I am going to now. She’s… well, she’s a fine woman. Beautiful, intelligent, kind. I could see spending the rest of my life with Becky.”

If he married his mistress, elevated her to future Duchess of Haverford, the dragons would tear her to pieces. They would never accept her. They would not rest until they had destroyed her and her children with her. He could not subject her to that horror.

See Keisha’s post for her hero’s point of view, and find out how he feels about Aldridge’s revelations.

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Julie Doherty and Scent of the Soul

Today, I welcome Julie Doherty to the blog. Julie is talking about Scent of the Soul, a novel set in twelfth century Scotland.

Do you base any of your characters on real people?

Yes, and since I write historicals, that means carefully threading plots through known events.

SCENT OF THE SOUL features Somerled of Argyll, twelfth century progenitor of many of the Highland clans so popular in fiction today.

My second novel, SCATTERED SEEDS, features Edward and Henry McConnell, two of my ancestors. Like so many eighteenth century Ulstermen, they pinned all hope on a new life in “Amerikay.” How could they know war was about to break out on the frontier with the French and their Indian allies?

Many of my characters are based on people I’ve observed during the mundane activities of my daily life. For example, there’s a scene in SCENT OF THE SOUL where my heroine feels Somerled’s presence before she sees him.

Blackness closed in around her until the room disappeared and took the music and murmur of the crowd with it. She rocked on her heels, unsteady in the infinite shadow, with nothing for company but the king’s scent and her own thrashing heart.

She knew when he moved closer. The heat of him seared her back. Her ears rang, and she felt sick.

Twenty years ago, I experienced this at a gas station when a man stepped into the checkout line behind me. As we inched toward the cash register, I felt an incredible energy emanating from him. There was nothing sexual about it—just a magnetic pull, like I already knew him somehow. Did we know each other in another lifetime? Were we somehow connected? I’ll never know, because I paid for my gas and ran like my pants were on fire.

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

Man, that’s hard. I love Somerled, because he’s so perfect in his imperfection. I love Breagha, because she’s so innocent and trusting. And even though Semjaza (the demon who comes between Somerled and Breagha’s happiness) is downright vile, I adore him because he’s so interesting. Just when we think he can’t sink any lower, he introduces us to a new level of wickedness.

Of everyone, though, my favorite character is Raam, Semjaza’s son. He grew up motherless in a dark lair, the target of Semjaza’s incessant abuse. Because he’s never known love, when he finds it, he’s willing to sacrifice everything to keep it, even his very life.

He writhed and arched his back as his first pain seared through him like molten silver. It did nothing to weaken the joy that swelled his heart. Her face swirled above his, and her tears splattered against his jerkin. He closed his eyes.

If death is the price for even a single moment like this, he thought, it is worth the cost.

What’s your favourite scene and why?

I loved writing the scene where one monk kills another, because I was furious at someone in real life that day.

Raam flipped the cowl off his head with enough violence to tear it in two. “You piece of maggot-infested dung!” He kicked the monk’s corpse, still raging over the dead man’s infatuation with the girl. “May the kites”—he booted—“peck out”—he booted again—“your eyeballs!” Its gaunt limbs flailed as it rolled into a ditch, its expression testifying to the forest canopy that death had come as a terrible shock.

I mean, you just can’t do that in real life, but in a story? Heck, yeah. Better than six weeks of therapy.

I also loved the scene where aged Elisad refuses to relinquish my heroine to the three warriors sent by the king, because it shows the depth of an adoptive mother’s love.

Breagha squealed and tightened her embrace. Elisad pulled her deeper into the corner. “Ye’ll be takin’ this lassie out o’ here o’er my festerin’ corpse!” She shrieked the words, but they sounded muffled to Breagha, whose right ear pressed against the old woman’s bosom.

“Wife, ye old fool,” Harald said, taking another step toward the corner, “the king has sent—”

Breagha heard the scrape of iron as Elisad lifted the fire poker from its peg.

Instantly, the room rang out with the high-pitched sing!-sing!-sing! of three drawn swords.

“Woman!” Harald’s voice raised an octave. He placed a hand over his heart. “Odin’s lost eyeball, ye know as well as I that they’ll kill ye dead!” He turned to the warriors, “Gi’ me time to reason wi’ her. The woman’s got a wicked temper.”

What was the hardest scene to write and why?

First, you should know that bringing my Irish husband to the USA required a four-year immigration battle. During that time, he couldn’t enter the USA, so I had to go to him. My boss allowed seventeen paid vacation days per year, so I was only able to spend one week with my husband every six months.

The worst of it was when our weekly visit ended and we faced another long separation. I will never forget the depth of despair I felt each time my bus pulled away from my beloved.

I relived that heartache while writing this scene:

Somerled grew smaller on the jetty. The helmsman began to sing a Psalm, and sixteen of Argyll’s men put their backs into their work, their oars boiling the waters of the sound.  She fell backward against an oarsman’s knees. In the moment it took to regain her balance, the mist had taken Somerled from her.

The second hardest scene is the one where Breagha is hiding inside a tent, surrounded by her attackers:

She dropped the flap and hid under Somerled’s cloak, crawling as far away from the tent entrance as she could. She could hear little else but the rush of blood in her ears. She was dizzy, and her body convulsed. She whimpered, trying against all odds to remain quiet. She covered her ears, and then uncovered them, unable to decide if she wanted to hear anything.

In 2010, I suffered a home invasion that gave me the tools to write the above paragraph. You just can’t imagine what goes through your mind when you’re kneeling behind your bed, certain you are going to die.

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

The one thing I know for sure is that I still want to be living next to my neighbor, Dan. The other day, Dan brought me a bottle of wine, some Celtic cheddar cheese, and smoked salmon—for no other reason than to feed my muse. Every writer should have a guy like Dan living next door.

Seriously, though, in ten years, I would love to be writing full-time, maybe even editing. It must be wonderful to wake and know that you can devote your entire day to your craft.

For now, my day job as a legal assistant pays the bills. (B-O-R-I-N-G) I’m glad for the regular paycheck, but working full-time (and the accompanying 35-mile commute) means writing time is hard to come by, and marketing time is virtually non-existent. I sometimes rise at 5:30 a.m., write during my lunch break, and then again from 6:30 p.m. until bedtime. I’ve even been known to write during traffic jams or while on hold at my job. (Shh, don’t tell the police or my boss.)

I can only hope that in ten years, when I introduce myself, the person I’m addressing will ask, “Julie Doherty? The Julie Doherty?”

Meet The Julie Doherty

Julie_007 smallJulie is a member of RWA and Central PA Romance Writers. When not writing, she enjoys antiquing, shooting longbow, traveling, and cooking over an open fire at her cabin. She lives in Pennsylvania with her Irish husband, who sounds a lot like her characters.

Back Cover Blurb for SCENT OF THE SOUL:

ScentOfTheSoul600In twelfth century Scotland, it took a half-Gael with a Viking name to restore the clans to their rightful lands. Once an exile, Somerled the Mighty now dominates the west. He’s making alliances, expanding his territory, and proposing marriage to the Manx princess.

It’s a bad time to fall for Breagha, a torc-wearing slave with a supernatural sense of smell.

Somerled resists the intense attraction to a woman who offers no political gain, and he won’t have a mistress making demands on him while he’s negotiating a marriage his people need. Besides, Breagha belongs to a rival king, one whose fresh alliance Somerled can’t afford to lose.

It’s when Breagha vanishes that Somerled realizes just how much he needs her. He abandons his marriage plans to search for her, unprepared for the evil lurking in the shadowy recesses of Ireland—a lustful demon who will stop at nothing to keep Breagha for himself.

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Choosing to Dream – an interview with Jennifer Senhaji

Today, I’m delighted to welcome Jennifer Senhaji to the blog to talk about her writing, and her new release contemporary romance Choosing to Dream.

  1. Why do you write in your chosen genre or genres?

I love contemporary romance because the stories are relatable. I enjoy the escapism of fantasy, historical fiction, and sci-fi, but there is something about reading a story where the characters are people you can easily imagine knowing… When I read a good contemporary, I end up in the story as the heroine or maybe a supporting character, if the heroine is really different from myself. I hope that my readers feel like they become a part of my stories. That they either become the characters or feel that they know the characters personally as part of their reading experience.

  1. Do you base any of your characters on real people?

Yes and no. There are traits from people I know in every character I write, but not solely based on one person. For example, Jasmine, who is Jenna’s best friend in Choosing to Dream, is loosely based on my daughter and a good friend of mine, and yet there are parts of her character that are completely original and have nothing to do with either my friend or daughter.

  1. Who is your favorite character in the book you’re showing us today?

Jenna is my favorite character, but Jake is a close second. There is so much of myself in Jenna that makes her a deeply personal character for me. Jake is the perfect hero, in my opinion. Amy is a hoot and I love writing her. And Jasmine is also a really strong character. Ah hell, I can’t narrow it down. Sorry.

  1. What’s your favorite scene and why?

My favorite scene is the surfing scene. With Jake’s help, Jenna learns how to surf. It’s something she is able to check off her bucket list. It’s something I would love to do as well. I can almost picture myself in that scene, riding a baby wave. Yeah. That was my favorite. It’s not a big emotional scene, but it’s empowering and fun.

  1. What was the hardest scene to write and why?

There is a love scene that takes place in Denver, Colorado, when Jen and Jake finally get to see each other after a long separation. It’s full of angst and confessions, and it was hard to write. I wanted the reader to really feel their frustration. Feel their anxiety. I think I accomplished that. When I was reading the proof, if brought me to tears. It’s what I was going for in the scene, but it was difficult to get right. There’s a funny scene right after that, so we go from emotional angst, to silly fun. But I love those scenes together. They balance each other well.

Choosing to Dream

choosing to dreamJenna Morris and Jacob Walker have finally given in to the flames of passion licking at their heels. But they’re only allowed one, blissful week together before the responsibilities of Jen’s café and Jake’s new film wrench the new lovers from each other’s arms.

Struggling to keep insecurities at bay whilst involved in a long distance relationship with one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors is tough enough. Dealing with Bethany Phillips, ex-supermodel turned actress and Jake’s new costar is almost unbearable.

They say love can move mountains, but can it bridge the gap that fame, jealously, and thousands of miles between them has caused?

Choosing to Dream is book 2 of the Sunset Dreams series, and was released on 17 July.

Amazon Buy Link: http://amzn.com/B0103BEN9Y

Meet Jennifer Senhaji

senhajiJennifer Senhaji was born and raised in San Francisco, CA, and is married with two children. If she’s not singing along at the top of her lungs to whatever is playing on the radio, you can find her making music playlists at home on her laptop. She works full time and splits her spare time between family, reading, blogging, and writing. Other than English, Jennifer speaks Spanish, Moroccan, and a little French. She loves to travel, but doesn’t do enough of it and will weave places she has gone or wants to go into her stories. Reading has been a passion for most of her life and she loves to write. She calls herself Your Sweet and Spicy Romance Author because she loves the sweet nuances of new love, but also is a bit of a voyuer and wants to be in the bedroom when the characters finally come together.

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Amanda Mariel’s witty Scandalous Intentions

AM_ScandalousIntentions_Front_600x900Today, I’m pleased to welcome Amanda Mariel to the blog.

On 18 March, Amanda released Scandalous Intentions, the second book in her Ladies and Scoundrels series. Below, I introduce you to the book and its author, and give you an excerpt.

Scandalous Intentions

When faced with losing his inheritance, notorious rake Lord Julian Luvington sets his sights on Lady Sara. She’s as respectable as they come, just what his father ordered. But the lady shall not be easily won.

She’s determined to marry for love or not at all, and she’ll do anything to obtain the freedom granted to men. A blackguard like Lord Luvington could destroy her hard-won reputation, but marriage to him also offers her the opportunities she can’t achieve on her own. What’s a lady to do?

When Lord Luvington refuses to abandon his pursuit, Lady Sara proposes an arrangement. Only the price may be more than either bargained for. Lady Sara could lose more than her social standing and Julian could lose his heart.

SI RQ newExcerpt

Sarah pushed out a sigh as Lord Luvington lead her toward a stone bench nestled among the lush green hedge.

“Shall we sit for a moment? I wish to explain.” He pressed his arm against her hand then loosened it again.

She looked away. “Very well. Though I cannot imagine what you might say to change things.” Sarah hesitated for a moment, reluctant to release her grip on him before she lowered herself onto the bench. The stone’s cool exterior seeped through her skirts, a welcome contrast to the warmth radiating through her. She rested one hand on her lap and waved her fan with the other.

Lord Luvington positioned himself on the bench a smidgen closer than was proper, angling himself so that he faced her. The fresh spring scents of foliage and flowers took on a heady intensity. She stared fixedly at the hedge in front of her. Her face flamed though she could not credit it to the heat of the atmosphere.

She needed to take control of the situation before it swept her away. “Speak your piece and be done with it. I do not wish to linger here over long.” He flashed a toe-curling grin just before she glanced away.

“What I said in the park was the truth. Is the truth. But there is more to it than just my need of a respectable wife.”

“Do tell.” She lowered her fan to her lap, its ribbons trailing in the breeze, and locked her gaze with his.

“I have come to care for you, admire you, even. You’re a fascinating and attractive woman.”

She plucked at her satin skirts as the heat climbed back into her face.

“It is true that I will not inherit the duchy without a proper society wife. It is the very reason I began looking for one. I shall not deny it, but nor is it the reason I continue to pursue you.” He reached up and brushed a curl that had escaped her bonnet away from her cheek.

His fingers left a tingling trail in their wake, and something inside Sarah began to crumble. She glanced down at the path they had just walked.

“I would like the chance to make this right. Allow me to court you, Lady Sarah. Let us discover if there might be something real between us.”

Cause A ScandalthsthsfShe glanced at him, unsure how to respond. Her mind screamed no, but her heart and soul begged for him. She wanted to reach out and run her hand across his strong jaw, feel his lips pressed against hers, discover what it felt like to be in his arms.

“Spend the rest of the party in my company, Lady Sarah. Grant me one afternoon to change your mind.”

A wave of tingles ran down her and congregated in her abdomen at his smile. This was dangerous, and she knew it. And yet…

Buy Links:

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Meet Amanda Mariel

author poicAmanda Mariel dreams of days gone by when life moved at a slower pace. She enjoys taking pen to paper and exploring historical time periods through her imagination and the written word. Her hobbies include reading, writing, crocheting, traveling, photography, and spending time with her family. Some of Amanda Mariel’s favorite places in the continental U.S. are Harper’s Ferry West Virginia and Sea Brook New Hampshire. She loves the history that surrounds them and visits every chance she gets.

Amanda Mariel lives along the Lake Huron shore line in northern Michigan with her husband and two kids. She holds a Master of Liberal Arts Degree with a concentration in literature and has a long standing love affair with sugary junk food.

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Anne Stenhouse and Daisy’s Dilemma

Jude, I’m delighted to be visiting your blog so far away in geographic terms and here in electronic ones, on publication day. If any of your readers wish to leave a comment saying why they’d like a copy of Daisy’s Dilemma, then I’ll select a lucky winner from their number at the end of today’s launch celebrations. Daisy’s Dilemma is e-reader only, but most formats are available.

Anne Stenhouse writes dialogue rich historical romance with humour and a touch of thematic mystery from her Edinburgh home which she shares with her dancing partner husband.

Daisy’s Dilemma – released today, 16 June

There’s an excerpt below in the questions, here’s the blurb:

Daisys Dilemmal 300dpiLady Daisy Mellon should be ecstatic when her brother, the earl, allows Mr. John Brent to propose. She’s been plotting their marriage for two years. However, she is surprised to find herself underwhelmed and blames their distant cousin, Reuben, for unsettling her.

In the turmoil caused by the earl’s impending wedding, it becomes obvious that there is a hidden enemy within the family. Tensions rise as the great house in London’s Grosvenor Square fills with relatives.

Reuben Longreach wonders whether the earl understands the first thing about Daisy’s nature and her need for a life with more drama than the Season allows. It’s abundantly clear to him that Daisy and John are not suited, but the minx accepts his proposal nonetheless.

Meanwhile Daisy hatches a plan to attach Reuben to her beautiful, beleaguered Scots cousin, Elspeth. Little does she know that Elspeth is the focus of a more sinister plot that threatens Daisy too.

Will Reuben be able to thwart the forces surrounding Daisy before she is irretrievably tied to John? Will Daisy find the maturity to recognise her dilemma may be of her own making before it’s too late?

 

Buy links

Daisy’s Dilemma from Amazon UK  * Kobo  * Amazon ca *  Amazon au * Amazon US * Amazon NZ

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An interview with Anne Stenhouse

  1. When did you begin to write, and why?

100_4686Most writers will say they’ve always written or at the very least they’ve always been story tellers. I think that’s true of me. I remember having a lovely time at a school camp holding the entire dormitory in my fictional hands as I spun an oral tale about something or other. Can’t remember at this distance in time what it was. I do remember the power and pleasure of the silences and the sudden bursts of laughter or deep collective sighs. I’ve always enjoyed crafting the written word for speech and I suppose that’s why I enjoyed writing plays. I could say I think in conversations as I replay the day’s encounters and change them over and over. And now – novels like Daisy’s Dilemma in which I let rip with the dialogue.

I do think speech and the things we do while speaking create wonderfully dramatic scenes and I hope there are a few in all my books that take readers back whenever they see one of the titles come up. Of course it’s impossible to really know how they spoke in the early nineteenth century, but it’s good fun using appropriate vocabulary words and adding lots of ‘ma’ams’ and ‘your lordships’. I’m also not averse to a bit of inversion – of speech and grammatical patterns.

  1. Why do you write in your chosen genre or genres?

I write ROMANCE because that’s the intense one-to-one relationship I’m most interested in. I may read detective fiction, but I don’t enjoy thrillers where the central relationship, hunter and hunted, is of necessity warped. This is not to say I don’t craft villains whose interest in either the Hero or Heroine might be unhealthy. I do and my villain, Sir Lucas Wellwood, in Mariah’s Marriage, remains one of my favourite created characters. Mariah’s Marriage was my debut novel and Lady Daisy of Daisy’s Dilemma, began life there.

So that might explain romance, why historical? Like many girls, I spent my teenage years reading copiously. In my case, I devoured Jean Plaidy, although today I can’t stand Tudor history and apart from the wonderful Bess of Hardwick, give them all a wide berth. Then came Jane. Austen, of course. Her work is penned at that moment when English became the modern language I recognise. The world she knew was changing so much and so fast. Women were poised to begin the fight for recognition as people, not adjuncts.

Georgette Heyer was next and I have a hardback collection. So, once you run out of the favourites – you need to roll up the sleeves and create your own.

  1. Do you base any of your characters on real people?

Not consciously, no. However, I was approached by the clever fundraisers of St John’s Church in Edinburgh to donate the chance to be a named character in my next book. I agreed and two chances were put forward. So, look out for the Edinburgh neighbour and the Edinburgh family’s coachman in Daisy’s Dilemma.

Basing characters on real people who are alive is a no-no these days. I think in times past writers had a lot of fun, mostly harmless, picking up foibles and simply changing a letter or two in either the first or second name. I’m sure some of them also settled a few scores. Personally, I need to craft. I may recognise a person whose life really needs artistic recognition, but they won’t be interesting enough if you simple put their character traits down on paper. You need to dig a little, embroider a little (for farce, a lot) and make them not just interesting oddities, but compellingly interesting oddities.

  1. What’s your favourite scene and why?

My favourite scene in Daisy’s Dilemma comes near the beginning of the novel and shortly after those Edinburgh relatives mentioned above arrive in the great London townhouse of Daisy’s brother, the Earl of Mellon. Daisy’s older cousin, Elspeth Howie arrives and her appearance, in dowdy tweed and acres of shawls, appals Daisy. But, she is bred to be a hostess and a hostess never makes her guest feel out of place or uncomfortable. Here’s a wee taster:

Daisy’s dilemma, Anne Stenhouse, editor Judy Roth

“Stephens, can someone assist Miss Howie.”

“Don’t worry about me, Lady Daisy,” the girl said, but relinquished a leather grip, two books, a stone hot water pig and a paper wrapper that looked to hold the remains of some bread, when the butler came closer. Daisy watched in fascinated horror while Stephens transferred the haul to a footman. She heard a step coming smartly along the garden passage behind her, Reuben, and saw the smile light Elspeth’s violet eyes when she recognised him.

“Why, it’s cousin Reuben.” Elspeth unwound a shawl from her shoulders and another from around her waist. She allowed a maid to catch them as they slid floor-wards. “I didn’t know you were staying, too.”

Reuben surged forward and enveloped Elspeth. Daisy, surprised by this show of intimacy, stepped aside. When had they met, she wondered. How had they come to know each other so well that a polite bow and curtsey was by-passed in favour of this warmth?

****

We’ll leave them there for the moment.

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Heather Boyd and An Improper Proposal

HeatherBoyd_200I’m delighted to welcome Heather Boyd to the blog. Heather has a new release out: Improper Proposal, book 6 in her Dangerous Rogues series. Read on to find out more about Heather, for an extract, and for links to the new book.

1. When did you begin to write, and why?

I began writing in 2008. It was either write or go mad from the stories swirling around in my head. I had owned a bookshop, which meant I had access to all kinds of amazing works. When that ended, I had way too much time on my hands. Since my imagination just wouldn’t stay quiet I wrote a story… and it was terrible. Everyone in it had to have a scene in their point of view (something not recommended). I listened to advice, learned my craft until I thought I was ready. Like most authors, there were rejections. I’m not big on quitting so I let the bad roll off my back and kept going. And I’m still learning. Perseverance and a thick hide is a good trait for an author to have.

2. Why do you write in your chosen genre or genres?

Before I was a writer, I read in a lot of genres. Fantasy and science fiction stories were essential to surviving my 4 hour daily train commute to the paying job. Reading made the miles blur nicely. But it wasn’t until I worked in the bookshop that I found romance. Regency romance novels were the first books that made me laugh out loud. Not something I usually do around other people. Once I’d stripped the store of its best, I knew that’s where I had to focus my writing energy. There is nothing quite like a regency for escapism, strange medical practices, and heroines deserving a wonderful hero. It’s loads of fun to write around the rules of what was considered proper in the early nineteenth century and see how far you can bend them.

3. Do you base any of your characters on real people?

My usual answer is to say not directly. Sometimes I’ll be inspired by something I see or hear around me and that might go in with a twist. Everyday life inspires so many creative endeavors. My kids wrestling inspired a funny/sad scene in my most recent book, An Improper Proposal, but I applied it to older pair of men.

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

I always love the men. Lord Louth, the hero of An Improper Proposal, has been running in and out of my other stories for quite a number of years as a best friend character. He’s been fun and it was wonderful to finally work on his love life and give him his own happy ever after. Of course, the man did want to be difficult about my matchmaking efforts but I had my way with him in the end.

5. What’s your favourite scene and why?

In An Improper Proposal, Iris Hedley asks for training as a mistress. Lord Louth disagrees with her chosen career, but he’s not offering her a better life with him. In fact, thanks to events around his daughter’s birth (she’s illegitimate) he’s never getting married. They’d already discussed the pros and cons of her decision to become a mistress to a limited extent, and then proof of the pitfalls of a scandalous life comes rolling straight at him in a baby carriage (pushed by Mrs. Hughes). It was awkward for him but revealed the one thing Iris longed for most—children and a family of her own.

An extract from An Improper Proposal

AIP_Cover533x800Martin leaned toward her ear and pitched his voice low, eager to change the topic of conversation. “Have you thought what you would do if you became pregnant to a protector?”

“I would keep the child,” Iris said immediately. Her brow furrowed and she glanced over her shoulder toward Mrs. Hughes’s retreating back. “I’ve no idea if it’s the done thing or not but that is my answer.”

“You would allow your child to suffer an irregular birth?”

She licked her lips. “I should not like to see them suffer of course, but that is likely what will happen, isn’t it?”

“Very true, and yet there are some gentlemen who would do the right thing.” Martin would have married Vivian if he’d been given the choice. “What if your protector were to propose marriage to give the child his name? Could you marry the man if you did not love him?”

“Many women do marry for a title rather than affection.” A tiny smile twisted her lips. “I would have to consider the matter at that time, of course.”

He stopped. “You would hesitate to live a respectable life?”

“Well, I cannot say with any certainty what I would do at this moment. I’ve not even begun to be a mistress.” She smiled cheekily. “Perhaps he picks his toes at the dinner table and drinks custard with his pork chops.”

After that point, the conversation goes further downhill. LOL Thanks for having me. xx

About Heather Boyd: Bestselling author Heather Boyd writes sizzling regency historical romance that skirt the boundaries of propriety to keep readers enthralled until the wee hours of the morning. She has published over twenty novels and shorter works.

Connect with Heather: Website | Twitter | Facebook Page | Mailing list

An Improper Proposal
Distinguished Rogues, book 6
Regency Historical Romance
Release date: June 9, 2015

About the book: In order escape a devil’s bargain penniless spinster Iris Hedley requires private lessons in seduction to become a wealthy man’s mistress. No stranger to scandal or bad choices, Lord Louth is convinced Iris is headed for heartbreak and sets out to prove surrendering to wicked pleasure can have unwanted consequences.

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Kali counsels Becky – part 2 of 2

Continued from Kali counsels Becky – part 1 of 2

It had been some years since Kali Matai, The Black Goddess, met Mrs. Rose Darling, known as The Rose of Frampton, and it was a meeting neither wished to remember, both having been at the mercy of protectors with no morals and less conscience. During that earlier meeting, Kali had taken it upon herself to protect the sweet, young girl from the worst of the abuses at the gentlemen’s party. Kali, after all, knew better than any woman in London how to feel nothing.

When they came upon each other at Mrs. Marlowe’s Book Emporium, however, not only their prior encounter bound them, but also a mutual understanding of the way the world treats women of easy virtue—as though they have no virtues at all. Now, in an effort to help the girl again, Kali has invited her to tea to discuss a topic of great import. Or so Mrs Darling’s note had said.

 (To read the first half of their conversation, go to part 1 of 2.)

***

Kali

Lady with Swarbat by Raja Ravi Varma

“Lord Aldridge returns to me several times each week. And…” Becky colors, “he seems to need very little sleep.” Choking on the words, she finally spits out, “Truth be told, Miss Shaheen, I fear the pox.”

Kali sits back. At least the girl was not such a fool as she appeared at first glance. Falling in love with the man was forgivable—somewhat. It had even happened to Kali once. But allowing herself to be polluted by his excesses? That was a much more serious kind of folly.

“Forgive me if I offend,” Becky stammers, “but I have heard that ladies of the Orient know remedies, preventatives…”

“You are right to be concerned,” Kali says in measured tones. “On this subject, however, I have no more knowledge than any other woman well-versed in our trade. Tell me, does he wash the part of himself that is of concern? Wash it well, I mean, with strong soap?”

Becky nodded, hiding her eyes behind her lashes and allowing the hair falling across her forehead to drop like a curtain to hide her face. “Yes. He is very thorough. He… Never mind… He… Yes.”

“Good. You can, of course, ensure such cleanliness by offering to attend him in his baths. He will never decline, and it will provide you some measure of control.”

“That… I already… He rather likes me to…” Becky was scarlet to her ears

Becky

Young lady in white hat by Jean Baptiste Greuze

Kali smiled and patted her hand. “Of course he does. As I have said, men are simple creatures. Does he use sheaths when you have relations? As a matter of course? With all of the women with whom he—?” She stops short, not wanting to hurt the poor, wounded bird any more than her protector already had.

Becky gathers her dignity. “He gives me to believe that he always wears a cundum. He is not unaware of the dangers, and he wishes no mo—er, no children out of wedlock.”

“If he is consistent with you, his regular mistress, you can guess that he does with the others.” She frowns. “But do not forget that a man will say anything to lie with a woman he desires.” Sighing, she follows with, “Of course, you cannot insist. As you say, he owns the lease on your body. There are risks… to this way of life. This is one… your beautiful daughter is another.”

Kali had met Sarah briefly on one occasion, which reminded her of her own loss. Nevertheless, the girl was sweet and charming and a bright spot in her mother’s otherwise sad life.

Becky shuddered. “Sarah is only eight, Miss Shaheen. I worry about her living in the house where I… where I sell myself. And I am determined to escape this life with enough money to give her more options.”

“Many would send her away,” Kali suggests, in a tentative manner. “To school, perhaps? To a friend or family in the country?”

“I have no family—I have no friends. I fear to send her to strangers. Of course, I am also afraid to keep her with me. You will think me silly to be so uncertain, but she is the one treasure of my life, and I would do anything for her. But the best thing? I do not know.”

“I do not think you foolish, and you have a friend in me. As such, I must tell you: you have fewer choices than one might hope. You must make your own luck and control your own future, my dear. You must subtly suggest Lord Aldridge give you jewels and gold and silver ornaments, for emeralds and rubies may be sold to keep you, no matter his inclination. Should he be generous enough, you may give Sarah and yourself any life you choose.” Eyes narrowed, lips thinned, she continues, “You do not protect yourself, Miss Winstanley. This is a mistake of the most immense proportions. Much more concern than the pox.

“You allow yourself to be defined by the gentleman in your life, most of whom do not have your interests in mind. Lord Aldridge is better than some, but he is inconstant, and will leave you in the street when he tires of you. You are a strong woman—” She holds up one finger. “No, do not think to argue that point when you have survived so much. You have a mind and heart worth cultivating, and your protectors will not do so. So then, you must do it yourself. That, my dear, is the legacy for your daughter. That is what you will give her and why you will keep her safe with you.”

Becky opened her mouth, thought again about what she wanted to say, and then closed it again. After a moment, she looked up from the glass she had been examining intently.

“You are right. You are right, Miss Shaheen. He has purchased the use of my body, but his needs do not define me. Indeed,” Kali could see her intent thoughts crossing her face, “it is not my body that keeps him visiting. He has never before signed a two-year contract. Did you know that? His… a relative of his told me.

“And he comes back to me from his other women. I have something that he needs. If I can work out what that is, Miss Shaheen, then I can… I can negotiate… Jewelry, yes. A separate house and a governess for my daughter, so she be can safe and… uncorrupted. And another two-year term. I have but a year left of this one. Three more years of using his purse as he uses my body will do quite nicely. Yes. Those requisites will serve. They will serve very well.”

“All of those, my friend,” Kali laughs, “are as simple as the man himself. I will call for tea, and we shall begin today.”

###

La Deesse Noire coverMeet Kali and read her story in La Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess, to be released June 10, available for pre-order now.

Sired by a British peer, born of a paramour to Indian royalty, Kali Matai has been destined from birth to enthrall England’s most powerful noblemen—though she hadn’t counted on becoming their pawn. Finding herself under the control of ruthless men, who will not be moved by her legendary allure, she has no choice but to use her beauty toward their malicious and clandestine ends.

When those she holds most dear are placed in peril by backroom political dealings, she enlists some of the most formidable lords in England to thwart her enemies. But even with the help of the prominent gentlemen she has captivated, securing Kali’s freedom, her family, and the man she loves, will require her protectors stop at nothing to fulfill her desires.

Pre-order now for June 10 delivery:
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To connect with Mariana Gabrielle:
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Meet Becky and Lord Aldridge in A Baron for Becky, to be released August 5, available for pre-order now.

BfB cover finalBecky is the envy of the courtesans of the demi-monde – the indulged mistress of the wealthy and charismatic Marquis of Aldridge. But she dreams of a normal life; one in which her daughter can have a future that does not depend on beauty, sex, and the whims of a man.

Finding herself with child, she hesitates to tell Aldridge. Will he cast her off, send her away, or keep her and condemn another child to this uncertain shadow world?

The devil-may-care face Hugh shows to the world hides a desperate sorrow; a sorrow he tries to drown with drink and riotous living. His years at war haunt him, but even more, he doesn’t want to think about the illness that robbed him of the ability to father a son. When he dies, his barony will die with him. His title will fall into abeyance, and his estate will be scooped up by the Crown.

When Aldridge surprises them both with a daring proposition, they do not expect love to be part of the bargain.

Pre-order now for August 5 delivery:
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Kali counsels Becky – part 1 of 2

Kali

Lady with Swarbat by Raja Ravi Varma

It had been some years since Kali Matai, The Black Goddess, met Mrs Rose Darling, known as The Rose of Frampton, and it was a meeting neither wished to remember, both having been at the mercy of protectors with no morals and less conscience. During that earlier meeting, Kali had taken it upon herself to protect the sweet, young girl from the worst of the abuses at the gentlemen’s party. Kali, after all, knew better than any woman in London how to feel nothing.

When they came upon each other at Mrs Marlowe’s Book Emporium, however, not only their prior encounter bound them, but also a mutual understanding of the way the world treats women of easy virtue—as though they have no virtues at all. Now, in an effort to help the girl again, Kali has invited her to tea to discuss a topic of great import. Or so Mrs Darling’s note had said.

***

“I can offer you tea, Mrs Darling,” Kali said, “Or something more… fortifying. Palm wine or feni or sherry. I only keep brandy in my protectors’ homes.”

“May I try feni?” Becky says. She likes trying new things, and fortifying is exactly what she needs. “And if you would not mind, Miss Matai, My true name is not Mrs. Darling. I am not Rose. And I am not a… That was a name given me by a… by someone who wished to increase my… price. My real name is Winstanley, Miss Becky Winstanley.”

Kali pours out the coconut liqueur into crystal glasses and passes one across the table. “Ah, very much like Miss Matai and La Déesse Noire, then. I would be grateful if we might use our real names. I am Kali Shaheen, though I beg you not make it known outside these rooms.”

“Kali Shaheen. Miss Shaheen. It is a lovely name.”

Becky

Young woman in a white hat by Jean Baptiste Greuze

“One I have not heard in a good many years, Miss Winstanley.” Kali began, “Your note spoke of some trouble you wish to share?” Some way in which I can help?”

Becky takes a cautious sip, and then another, more appreciative, one. “It is not so much that I need help. More that I would appreciate someone to listen; someone who, perhaps, might… understand how complicated it is.”

Kali chuckles. “If it is about a man, my dear, there is nothing simpler.”

Becky smiles in return, and then turns wistful. “The man is simple enough, Kali, that is true. If his appetites are satisfied and his ego is stroked, he is happy. I am the complicated one.”

“Ah,” Kali sighs, taking another delicate sip of her feni. “Yes, women are certainly complicated, are we not? Have you some concern about Lord Aldridge?”

Her primary concern, Kali thinks, should be seeing the man does not leave her with the French pox. Rare, indeed, are gentlemen with such copious appetites, and no lightskirt in London holds any illusions about the Merry Marquis—with the possible exception of the one before her.

Kali has never dallied with him, though not from lack of trying on his part or amused interest on hers. She merely chooses to remain true to her protectors, for reasons she cannot disclose. If ever she might wish an affair merely for the enjoyment of it, however, Lord Aldridge would be near the top of the list.

“When you and I first met,” Becky begins softly, “you rightly deduced the protector I had then was not kind. You will understand, I think, what it means when I say that he was among the best of all the men by whom I have been kept.”

Kali nods. Every mistress understands all too well.

“Lord Aldridge saved me—in every sense—and more important, saved my little daughter.” Kali’s smile becomes just a bit brittle at the mention of the little girl. “Not just from more of the same, but from worse. I will always be grateful to him.”

Even a heartless rogue like Aldridge, Kali reflects, might find himself an accidental hero on occasion.

“He is always polite. He always ensures my pleasure. He is kind to my little girl. He is generous with his gifts and with his praise. He is kind, Miss Shaheen. It has been a heady experience for a girl like me.”

Smiling with a certain softness about her eyes and mouth, glad this sweet girl has had some small measure of kindness, even if at the hands of a man like Aldridge, Kali urges, “Go on.”

“It has been nine months since we signed a contract. For six months, he barely let me leave his side. You will think me foolish, but I imagined… I knew he would not marry me. Indeed, so I told his… certain members of his family. But I thought we were in love. Foolish.”

Kali raises a brow and the softness in her eyes vanishes. “Quite.” Her hand trembles just slightly as she finishes her drink and pours another, also offering it to her guest. When Becky holds out her glass, Kali pours a short ration, unsure whether the girl is accustomed to strong spirits.

Setting down the bottle, she straightens in her chair, as rigid as if she were part of her corset, not just wearing it. But for sipping the feni, her jaw is clenched tight, and her fingernails dig deeply into the palm of her hand. Still, outwardly, she is calm as an iced-over pond.

Becky’s tone is bleak. “I forgot what you told me when we met before. I forgot he is my buyer, not my lover. Not my friend. I knew it, but I forgot.” At Kali’s frown, she hastens to explain, “He did not encourage me, Miss Shaheen. It was my own doing. He did not speak of love. He did not talk of permanence. But he was kind. And I have known so little kindness.”

Kali uncurls her rigid fingers from the arm of her chair and grasps Becky’s hand. “It is an easy thing to forget when they so believe they wish to be our friends.” She sets her glass aside, taking Becky’s chilly fingers between the palms of her hands. “Do you expect he will set you aside?”

At Becky’s stricken look, Kali asks gently, “Have you savings to keep you? He has given you the deed to the house, has he not?”

Watching the crash of a fallen woman was never an easy thing, especially for those who might just as easily follow her rapid descent.

“The house and my income are mine to keep if I finish the two years, or if he chooses to end the contract early. I lose them only if I leave.” She examines her empty glass, as if looking for words within it. “Lord Aldridge’s cousin, Lord Chirbury, suggested the clause.”

“He is a wise man, then, and you are fortunate to have received his counsel.” Lord Chirbury clearly knew his cousin almost as well as the entirety of the demimonde did. “Do you not have a solicitor? A woman alone must have her own solicitor, Miss Winstanley.”

“A solicitor? A solicitor could not help me with my problem, Miss Shaheen.”

“You are not considering… Surely not.” Kali’s brows drew together. “Think, Miss Winstanley. Do not feel.”

“Considering what?” Becky’s brows drew together.

If the girl truly hadn’t thought of leaving the man with whom she had so unwisely fallen in love, Kali could not forgive herself if she were the one to suggest it. “Never you mind, sweetling.” She patted Becky’s hand. “Tell me what it is I can do to help.”

“Aldridge owns my body,” Becky says, baldly. “Or perhaps it would be truer to say he holds the lease. I need it returned to me in good condition at the end of the contract. Not for my sake. For my daughter.”

“I cannot believe,” Kali says slowly, “with what I know of Lord Aldridge, that you are concerned about maltreatment.”

Becky shakes her head.

“So, rather, you worry about… disease?” She sat back. “Or is it only your heart for which you fear?”

“Aldridge returned my heart to me when he began swiving other women and discussing it with me. It is bruised, I cannot deny, but he is a man of prodigious appetite who enjoys variety. Yet he returns to me several times each week. And…” Becky colors, “he seems to need very little sleep.” Choking on the words, she finally spits out, “Truth be told, Miss Shaheen, I fear the pox.”

(To read the rest of their conversation, come back tomorrow.)

###

La Deesse Noire coverMeet Kali and read her story in La Déesse Noire: The Black Goddess, to be released June 10, available for pre-order now.

Sired by a British peer, born of a paramour to Indian royalty, Kali Matai has been destined from birth to enthrall England’s most powerful noblemen—though she hadn’t counted on becoming their pawn. Finding herself under the control of ruthless men, who will not be moved by her legendary allure, she has no choice but to use her beauty toward their malicious and clandestine ends.

When those she holds most dear are placed in peril by backroom political dealings, she enlists some of the most formidable lords in England to thwart her enemies. But even with the help of the prominent gentlemen she has captivated, securing Kali’s freedom, her family, and the man she loves, will require her protectors stop at nothing to fulfill her desires.

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Meet Becky and Lord Aldridge in A Baron for Becky, to be released August 5, available for pre-order now.

BfB cover finalBecky is the envy of the courtesans of the demi-monde – the indulged mistress of the wealthy and charismatic Marquis of Aldridge. But she dreams of a normal life; one in which her daughter can have a future that does not depend on beauty, sex, and the whims of a man.

Finding herself with child, she hesitates to tell Aldridge. Will he cast her off, send her away, or keep her and condemn another child to this uncertain shadow world?

The devil-may-care face Hugh shows to the world hides a desperate sorrow; a sorrow he tries to drown with drink and riotous living. His years at war haunt him, but even more, he doesn’t want to think about the illness that robbed him of the ability to father a son. When he dies, his barony will die with him. His title will fall into abeyance, and his estate will be scooped up by the Crown.

When Aldridge surprises them both with a daring proposition, they do not expect love to be part of the bargain.

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