Archives

Louise Lyndon: Love and Vengeance

NBTM_TourBanner_OfLoveAndVengeance copy

Louise will be awarding a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

Interview With Louise Lyndon

Susana: What advice would you give to writers just starting out?

Louise: Write. Then write some more. Do not stop after the first rejection – remember, they are rejecting your story, not you as a writer. Enter competitions for feedback. Choose a competition with an editor of a publisher you’re interested in submitting work to. Don’t bombard yourself with reading ‘how to write’ books. I have one or two – and to be honest, I have only read one of them. But just keep writing. This is the only way you’re going to improve on your craft.

Susana: What comes first: the plot or the characters?

Louise: For me, characters. Rather, they come to me in a snippet of a scene. I’ll play that scene over and over in my head and then I’ll write it. Now, that scene is just a random scene. Usually I know nothing else other than that scene. Then I start to think about the characters in the scene. Who are they? Where did they come from? What are they doing there? It builds from there.

Susana: Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Louise: Oh, I’m a panster. I mentioned earlier that I’ll have a random scene pop into my head and then build the characters from there that is how I build the plot. I’ll ask myself, what happened in the scene prior to this one to get them to this point? I do a lot of my writing working backward.

Susana: Tell us something about your newest release that is NOT in the blurb.

Louise: My newest release, Of Love and Vengeance, is about a few things really. Firstly, it’s about prejudices, mainly about how we can tar an entire group by either misconceptions or by the behavior of a few. Both the hero and heroine are guilty of doing this, so we get to see how they deal with this. It’s also about acceptance, not just of each other, but of yourself as well. Laila, the heroine has a birthmark that covers one side of her face, and she really struggles with loving herself because of it. So we also see how she learns to love herself.

Susana: What did you want to be when you grew up?

Louise: I always wanted to be an audio engineer. You know, one of those people who sets up all the audio equipment at concerts and in recording studies. When I was seventeen I took a course in audio engineering, because from as long as I could remember that was what I wanted to do. I got my qualifications and then realized that perhaps it wasn’t what I wanted to be after all!

Susana: What is one thing your readers would be most surprised to learn about you?

Louise: I love doing obstacle races like Spartan, and Tough Mudder. To look at me you wouldn’t think so. I refer to myself as a Rueben’s woman (curvy and plump!) and I do not look as if I am into exercise. I always like to put on make-up and straighten my hair (I love my InStyler), I’m a bit of a girly girl. So, the last place you’d expect to find me is shoulder deep in stinky, sticky mud, crawling under barbed wire, hoisting myself up a rope, and climbing over 12 foot walls. My sister doesn’t believe it and she’s seen the photos!

Susana: What would we find under your bed?

Louise: I’m afraid to look to be honest! But, the last time I did work up the courage to look I found an old pair of ASICS trainers I no longer wear, and empty shoe box, which I should have put the old trainers in, and a recipe book for my nutribullet.

Susana: Do you have a favorite quote or saying?

Louise: I have two. 1/ Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it. 2/ Bang on enough doors and one is bound to open.

Susana: Every writer dreams of getting “the call.” What were you doing when yours came? Who got to hear the good news first?

Louise: My “call” came in the form of an email. I remember it clearly. It was May 17, 7.59am (I remember the time exactly because I was on my way into the office and I checked the time on my phone) and before heading into the building where I work I quickly checked my emails. There was an email from The Wild Rose Press, and I thought it was going to be a rejection. I stopped reading after the first sentence… I have finished reviewing the manuscript, Of Love and Vengeance.  I’d like to offer you a contract. I must had re-read that sentence at least ten times. Then I called my sister, who thought someone must have died because why else would I be ringing her so early!

Susana: What is the one modern convenience you can’t do without?

Louise: Anything electrical! But mainly my microwave, Instyler, and laptop. Not necessarily in that order.

About Of Love and Vengeance

Forced to marry Lord Aymon to ensure her young nephew’s survival, English Lady Laila vows undying hatred for the Norman she holds responsible for the deaths of so many innocents. Discovering Aymon has committed an act of treason gives her the chance to seek vengeance he deserves. But can Laila let Aymon die at the hands of the king once she learns the truth?

A hardened Norman warrior, Lord Aymon has lived through atrocities no man ever should. With the invasion of England over, all he wants is a quiet life and a wife who will give him heirs and obey his every command. Instead, he finds himself wed to feisty and outspoken Laila. But when she learns the truth of his treasonous act, can Aymon count on her to keep his secret?

AmazonBarnes & Noble Wild Rose Publishing

Excerpt

Aymon caught a flicker of movement from a window on the second story. “I think we’re about to meet the welcome party.” An arrow zoomed toward him and landed on the pommel of his saddle. A half an inch closer and he would no longer be able to sire children. As if in demonstration of his ability with the bow and arrow, the shooter fired again. This time directed toward Hugh. The second arrow too came within a half an inch of his friend’s manhood.

Cover_OfLoveandVengeance copy“You missed!” Aymon called toward the shooter. He questioned his stupidity for mocking someone with such a good aim.

“You want me to show you how good an aim I really am?” a woman’s voice echoed out across the yard.

“Bloody hell,” Hugh half cursed, half laughed. “Where does a woman learn to shoot like that?”

Aymon was shocked and admittedly a little impressed a woman had such remarkable shooting skills. He could use such a sharp shooter on his side in battle. After all, it was better to have someone so skilled firing for you than at you.

Aymon raised his black leather gloved hand in surrender. “No. I’m firmly attached to my balls, thank you very much.”

“Who are you?” the shooter demanded. “And what do you want? There is nothing of value here for you to steal. Be on your way, man, and leave me in peace.”

“Some would say a female is of value,” Aymon drawled sardonically.

A second arrow lodged firmly on the pommel between his legs.

“I do not give third chances. I’ll give you to the count of three to leave. Or else you will find an arrow straight through your heart.”

Aymon’s warhorse whinnied, and he fought to control the beast whose temperament was as black as his coat. “Put down your weapon!”

“One!”

“We mean you no harm!”

“Two!”

“I am Lord Aymon, and this is Lord Hugh. I’ve come to claim what is rightfully mine.”

Silence.

The two men looked at one another unsure what to do. “Should we storm the building and lay claim to what is yours?”

Aymon shook his head. He dismounted but never took his eyes from the door to the manor.

“She will soon make her appearance.”

Hugh, too, dismounted. “How can you be so sure?”

Aymon looked at his friend. “We do not have arrows through our hearts.”

About the Author

AuthorPic_OfLoveAndVengeance copyLouise grew up in country Victoria, Australia, before moving to England, where for sixteen years she soaked up the vibrancy of London and the medieval history of England. She has since returned to Australia and now lives in Melbourne.

She has been writing the moment she picked up a copy of Diana Gabaldon’s first Outlander novel twenty something years ago. She thought to herself, ‘this is what I want to do’ – not travel back in time, but become a novelist! She has always had snippets of dialogue and scenes floating around in her head with characters screaming at her to bring them to life.

In 2013, Louise won first prize in the Crested Butte Sandy Writing contest – Historical category for her story, The Promise, which is now called, Of Love and Vengeance.

When not writing, she can be found covered in mud, crawling under barbed wire and hoisting herself over twelve foot walls – under the guise of competing in Spartan races all over Australia.

 EmailWebsiteBlogFacebookTwitterPinterest

Mary Moore: Accidental Fiancée

About Accidental Fiancée

email size copyLady Grace Endicott never would have dreamed she’d be ruined by a rake. But after an innocent encounter with notorious scoundrel Lord Weston is misconstrued, her beloved sister’s introduction to Society-and her own reputation-are put at risk. The only way to avoid a scandal is a betrothal.

Brandon Roth-Lord Weston-doesn’t quite know what to think of his independent fiancée…or their growing friendship. Yet their engagement ruse is quickly becoming more than a temporary fix. If he can convince Grace that his wicked ways are now far behind him, he’ll be able to prove that he wants nothing more than to care for the lovely lady…

AmazonBarnes & NobleChristian Book Distributors

Excerpt

Review

“I’m in a Regency tailspin! Toe-curling satisfaction guaranteed. Lord Weston is the quintessential Regency hero. His rakish past and sarcastic humour can’t hide the real gentleman that lies within. I was intrigued after the first meet but when I reached page 139 I became completely smitten. Be. Still. My. Heart.

Grace has no intention of falling in love. She’s given up on believing there’s a living, breathing knight in shining armor in her future. Oh my goodness, but she is so wrong. But, beware, there is treachery afoot that complicates a smooth path towards a happily ever after and that makes for a thrilling read.

In addition, Moore has included a moving inspirational thread that flows easily throughout the story. Nothing stilted or forced. Just pure truth and the hope of grace. Beautiful tie-in to the heroine’s name.

This stunning Regency romance makes for an exhilarating read.”

About the Author

Mary-11 Color Blue w scarf smiling close-up 2- Like copyMary Moore has been writing historical fiction for 20 years. She has dedicated her writing to encouraging others in the Lord.

Her debut, The Aristocrat’s Lady, won acclaimed awards such as 2011 RT Reviewers Choice Award, and 2011 Holt Medallion for Best Book by a Virginia Author.

When not writing, she loves trips with her husband, reading and ministering in her church. Please visit Mary on her website www.marymooreauthor.com.

WebsiteEmailFacebookTwitter

Lauren Smith: The League of Rogues, Book 2

Character Interview with Lucien and Horatia

from His Wicked Seduction

Rochester Hall in Kent was full of life for the Christmas holidays. I was fortunate that I could take a chance to interview Lord Rochester and his soon to be bride Horatia Sheridan. Their engagement had caused quite a scandal because Horatia’s brother Cedric was Lucien’s friend, and they had fought a duel on Christmas day over Horatia’s honor, and then all three of them were nearly killed by an assassin from Lucien’s past. It was a story I needed to hear more details about and had reached out to Horatia for an interview.

Lauren_Smith_2014 copyShortly after arriving at the beautiful mansion in the countryside via coach, I was escorted to a drawing room to wait for his lordship and Horatia to arrive. A few moments later, a maid with a tea tray bustled in, followed by a handsome man in his early thirties with dark red hair and a wicked, yet playful smile. He tugged the edges of his silver waistcoat down and walked over to where I sat on the settee and bowed gracefully.

“Tis a pleasure, Madame.” He captured my hand and feathered a light kiss across my knuckles.

“Thank you, my lord. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” I knew I was blushing, and by the amused glint in his eyes, he knew I was blushing too. Even betrothed and most decidedly off limits to a woman like me, Lucien, Lord Rochester, was irresistible.

The door opened again, to admit a woman I recognized, my friend Horatia Sheridan. In a rich blue silk gown, a color more suited to a married lady than a unmarried one, she looked stunning. In Rochester Hall, away from society’s judgmental eyes, Horatia was wearing gowns that looked much better with her fair skin.

“Lauren!” She rushed to greet me and we embraced.

“I’m so happy for you, Horatia. When I heard the news, I knew I had to come down and speak to you and meet your future husband.”

“Thank you.” Horatia snuck a little glance at Lucien who was grinning openly. The rogue. I smiled too.

“Why don’t we sit down and you can ask us your questions.” Horatia suggested.

Me: Lucien, it is no secret that you are a member of the League of Rogues. What is it like to be branded a rogue by London’s society?

Lucien: “Good lord, you don’t hold back, do you? Well, yes, I’m a member of the League. There are six of us: Godric, Cedric, Ashton, Charles, Jonathan and myself. I don’t mind the amusing moniker of the name. It suits me quite well. I’m both an acknowledged rake and a rogue, so why deny it?” he leaned back in his chair and crossed one booted knee over his ankles.

Me: So, Lucien – tell us about this Midnight Garden we’ve heard about? Is it the type of place you would think to encounter a young girl?

At this Lucien actually paled. “Right, well. It’s a place of ill repute,” he hesitated. “You know, a place where a man or woman with sensual appetites can be sated. Certainly not a place for a well bred young woman.” He coughed and shot a direct gaze at Horatia. She shrugged at him, then smoothed her skirts, as though unperturbed by his silent chastisement.

Me: Then it must have about given you a heart attack when you noticed Horatia there! Tell us about it?

“I’ll tell you,” Horatia butted in before Lucien could speak. “I think I was more shocked than he, even though it was my plan to find him. You see, I bribed one of his servants to find out where he went in the evenings, and decided that if he wanted a woman to take to bed, it had better be me, since I was so completely in love with him. Then when I came into his room, we each wore masks per the rules of the Garden, but he recognized me, and I knew it was him.” Horatia finally looked over at her lover, a playful little smile on her lips. “He thought he’d teach me a lesson and half-seduce me, but we both lost ourselves to the passion and it was wonderful.”

Me: Horatia – it must have been quite frightening to go to that place – what made you decide to do that?

“Lucien was afraid to fall in love with me because he is my brother’s best friend. Cedric would have killed him if he even looked at me in a desiring way. But I knew I had to be with Lucien, and that meant taking wild risks in order to save him from his attempt to hide from me.”

Me: It seems like you took a round about way to love – did you ever have any doubts that you would be separated?

Lucien answered this time. “Well, when her brother had his pistol pointed at my chest there were definitely doubts that I might shed this mortal coil and never seen my beloved, darling Horatia ever again.”

Horatia’s eyes sparked with tears. “And that wasn’t even the worst of it. When that assassin trapped us in the burning gardener’s cottage, I was convinced we would not make it out. But we did.” She took Lucien’s hand and they shared a secret look of love.

Me: You’ve known each other since you were quite young.  Any fun childhood memories?

Lucien laughed. “I was a young man when I met Horatia. She was only fourteen and I was in my twenties. She was also so serious as a child, determined to replace her deceased mother in the family and take care of her older brother Cedric and her younger sister Audrey.”

“And you were all charm and teasing, Lucien. It’s what drew me to you. Like a flower to the sun, I craved your light-hearted spirit to ease my serious one,” Horatia added.

Me: Were any of those memories at Rochester Hall? Had you ever spent the Christmas holidays there before with Lucien’s family?

Horatia shook her head. “I only spent one real holiday at Rochester Hall and it wasn’t during Christmas. I was there during the spring and accidentally ruined Lucien’s attempt to propose another woman. I spilled a bucket of water over her head from the top of a gazebo.”

Lucien chuckled. “I was so furious with you, love, but now I can only thank you from saving me from marrying that awful creature.” He turned to face me. “You see, I was going to marry Melanie Burns. She ended up marrying my dreaded enemy, Hugo Waverly. It was him who sent the assassin after us to kill us, but not because of Melanie. That’s another story, I won’t share here.”

Me: As one of the League of Rogues, we had never thought you’d settle down – not for years! What was it that Horatia did or said to get you to abandon your single life so quickly? 

Lucien smirked. “What indeed?” He slid a hand into the pocket of his dark blue trousers and pulled out a piece of fine red silk cut into a strip. “I discovered my little Horatia had a taste for bondage in bed, she like to be tied up, just as much as I loved to tie her up, among other things.” He winked at his future wife. “But the truth is this, she wasn’t afraid to be herself with me, even when I was a fool and tried to push her away. She was brave, bold and beautiful, and I knew a woman like that was a rare find and I couldn’t deny my feelings for her any longer. A woman like that deserves to be loved and cherished, even by a scoundrel like me.”

Me: Are you sad to leave your reputation as a playboy behind – or are you excited for whatever new adventures lie in front of you with your new wife?

He laughed. “Sad to leave behind my lonely bachelor ways? Absolutely not.”

Horatia giggled. “He’s most happily entertained with me. I keep him busy and satisfied.

“No doubt,” Lucien continued. “We’ll have plenty of children to keep us both busy. My mother will get her wish for grandchildren sooner rather than later I expect.”

Me: And now the most important question of the interview – now that Lucien is in wedded bliss, which of her children will Lady Rochester now turn her matchmaking abilities to?

“My mother? Who will her next matchmaking victim be? That’s a frightening guess to make. I feel, if I answer that I’d condemn one of my younger brothers or my sister to a wedding. But, then again, I’d love to torture one of my siblings. Let’s see, next in line by age is Lawrence, he’s like me, too stubborn for even my mother to arrange anything. Then there’s Avery, the family spy, always off on the Continent doing lord knows what to save King and Country. Then there’s Linus, he’s lovestruck with Lucinda Cavendish but far too young to marry, he’s only twenty-one. I would have to my bet on Lysandra, my only sister, just nineteen. However, she’s a real blue stocking, addicting to education and learning, not into husband hunting. I imagine my mother will set her sights on poor Lysa.”

I laughed and thanked Lucien and Horatia for allowing me to ask those rather personal questions. They in turn insisted that I stay with them through the remainder of the holidays. A Russell family Christmas? How could I refuse? Humming merrily, I picked up my belongings and went straight to my rooms, determined to write their story, His Wicked Seduction, one more adventures of the League of Rogues. I can’t wait!

About The League of Rogues, Book 2

Can the League’s most wicked rakehell be tamed? Or has this Rogue fallen too far?

Horatia Sheridan has been hopelessly in love with Lucien, her brother’s best friend, ever since he rescued her from the broken remains of her parents’ wrecked carriage. His reputation as London’s most notorious rakehell doesn’t frighten her, for under his veneer of cool authority she has glimpsed a man whose wicked desires inspire her own.

HisWickedSeduction300 copyLucien, Marquess of Rochester, has deliberately nurtured a reputation for debauchery that makes every matchmaking mother of the ton quake with fear. His one secret: he is torn between soul-ripping lust for Horatia, and the loyalty he owes her brother.

That loyalty is put to the test when an old enemy of the League threatens Horatia’s life. With Christmas drawing near, he sweeps her away to his country estate, where he can’t resist granting her one wish—to share his bed and his heart.

But sinister forces are lurking, awaiting the perfect moment to exact their revenge by destroying not only whatever happiness Lucien might find in Horatia’s arms, but the lives of those they love.

Warning: This book contains an intelligent lady who is determined to seduce her brother’s friend, a brooding rake whose toy of choice in bed is a little bit of bondage with a piece of red silk, a loyal band of merry rogues and a Christmas love so scorching you’ll need fresh snow to extinguish it.

AmazonBarnes & NobleiBooksKobo • Samhain • Google

Excerpt

She is going to be the death of me.

“Lucien! You’re not even listening to me, are you? I’m in desperate need of a new valet and you’ve been woolgathering rather than offering suggestions. I daresay you have enough for a decent coat and a pair of mittens by now.”

Lucien Russell, the Marquess of Rochester, looked to his friend Charles. They were walking down Bond Street, Lucien keeping careful watch over one particular lady without her knowledge and Charles simply enjoying the chance for an outing. The street was surprisingly crowded for so early in the day and during such foul wintry weather.

“Admit it,” Charles prodded.

Lucien fought to focus on his friend. “Sorry?”

The Earl of Lonsdale fixed him with a stern glare which, given that his usual manner tended towards jovial, was a little alarming.

“Where is your head? You’ve been out of sorts all morning.”

Lucien grunted. He had no intention of explaining himself. His thoughts were sinful ones, ones that would lead him straight to a fiery spot in Hell, assuming one wasn’t already reserved for him. All because of one woman: Horatia Sheridan.

She was halfway up Bond Street on the opposite side of the road, a beacon of beauty standing out from the women around her. A footman dressed in the Sheridan livery trailed diligently behind her with a large box in his arms. A new dress, if Lucien had to hazard a guess. She should not be out traipsing about on snow-covered walkways, not with these carriages rumbling past, casting muddy slush all over. It frustrated him to think she was risking a chill for the sake of shopping. It frustrated him more that he was so concerned about it.

“I know you think I’m a half-wit on most days, but—”

“Only most?” Lucien couldn’t resist the verbal jab.

Charles grinned. “As I was saying, it’s a bit obvious our leisurely stroll is merely a ruse. I’ve noticed we’ve stopped several times, matching the pattern of a certain lady of our acquaintance across the street.”

So Charles had been watchful after all. Lucien shouldn’t have been surprised. He hadn’t done his best to conceal his interest in Horatia Sheridan. It was too hard to fight the natural pull of his gaze whenever she was near. She was twenty years old, yet she carried herself with the natural grace of a mature and educated queen. Not many women could achieve such a feat. For as long as he’d known her, she’d been that way.

He’d been a young man in his twenties when he met her, and she’d been all of fourteen. She’d been like a little sister to him. Even then, she’d struck him as more mentally and emotionally mature than most women in their later years. There was something about her eyes, the way her doe-brown pools held a man rooted to the spot with intelligence—and in these last few months, attraction…

“You’d best stop staring,” Charles intoned quietly. “People are starting to notice.”

“She shouldn’t be out in this weather. Her brother would have a fit.” Lucien tugged his leather gloves tighter, hoping to erase the lingering effects of the chill wind that slid between his coat sleeves and gloves.

Charles burst out into a laugh, one loud enough to draw the attention of nearby onlookers. “Cedric loves her and little Audrey, but you and I both know that does not stop either of them from doing just as they please.”

There was far too much truth in that. Lucien and Charles had known Cedric, Viscount Sheridan for many years, bonded during one dark night at university. The memory of when he, Charles, Cedric and two others, Godric and Ashton, had first met always unsettled him. Still, what had happened had forged an unbreakable bond between the five of them. Later, London, or at least the society pages, had dubbed them The League of Rogues.

The League. How amusing it all was…except for one thing. The night they’d formed their alliance each of the five men had been marked by the Devil himself. A man by the name of Hugo Waverly, a fellow student at Cambridge, had sworn vengeance on them.

And sometimes Lucien wondered if they didn’t deserve it.

Lucien shook off the heavy thoughts. He was drawn to the vision of Horatia pausing to admire a shop window displaying an array of poke bonnets nestled on stands. Her beleaguered footman stood by her elbow, juggling the box in his arms. He nodded smartly as Horatia pointed out a particular bonnet. Lucien was tempted to venture forth and speak with her, possibly lure her into an alley in order to have just a moment alone with her. Even if he only spoke with her, he feared the intimacy of that conversation would get him a bullet through his heart if her brother ever found out.

Charles had walked a few feet ahead, then stopped and turned to kick a pile of snow into the street. “If this is how you mean to spend the day then consider me gone. I could be at Jackson’s Salon right now, or better yet, savoring the favors of the fine ladies at the Midnight Garden.”

Lucien knew he’d put Charles out of sorts asking him to come today, but he’d had a peculiar feeling since he’d risen this morning, as though someone was walking over his grave. Ever since Hugo Waverly had returned to London, he had been keeping on eye on Cedric’s sisters, particularly Horatia. Waverly had a way of creating collateral damage and Lucien would do anything to keep these innocent ladies safe. But she mustn’t know he was watching over her. He’d spent the last six years being outwardly cold to her, praying she’d stop gazing at him in that sweet, loving way of hers.

It was cruel of him, yes, but if he did not create some distance, he’d have had her on her back beneath him. She was too good a woman for that, and he was far too wicked to be worthy of her. Rather like a demon falling for an angel. He longed for her in ways he’d never craved for other women, and he could never have her.

The reason was simple. His public reputation did not do justice to the true depth of his debauchery. A man like him could and should never be with a woman like Horatia. She was beauty, intelligence and strength, and he would corrupt her with just one night in his arms.

Within the ton, there was scandal and then there was scandal. For a certain class of woman, being seen with the wrong man in the wrong place could be enough to ruin her reputation and damage her prospects. These fair creatures deserved nothing but the utmost in courtesy and propriety.

For others, the widows still longing for love, those who had no interest in husbands but did from time to time seek companionship, and that rare lovely breed of woman who had both the wealth and position to afford to not give a toss about what society thought, there was Lucien. He seduced them all, taught them to open themselves up to their deepest desires and needs, and seek satisfaction. Not once had a woman complained or been dissatisfied after he had departed from her bed. But there was only one bed he sought now, and it was one he should never be invited into.

He glanced about and noticed a familiar coach among the other carriages on the street. Much of the street’s traffic had been moving steadily and quicker than the people on foot, but not that coach. There was nothing unusual about it; the rider was covered with a scarf like all the others, to keep out the chill, yet each time he and Charles had crossed a street, the coach had shadowed them.

“Charles, do think we’re being followed?”

Charles brushed off some snow from his gloved hands when it dropped onto him from a nearby shop’s eave. “What? What on earth for?”

“I don’t know. That carriage. It has been with us for quite a few streets.”

“Lucien, we’re in a popular part of London. No doubt someone is shopping and ordering their carriage to keep close.”

“Hmm,” was all he said before he turned his attention back to Horatia and her footman. One of her spare gloves fell out of her cloak and onto the ground, going unnoticed by both her and her servant. Lucien debated briefly whether or not he should interfere and alert her to the fact that he and Charles had been following her. When she continued to walk ahead, leaving her glove behind, he made his decision.

Lucien caught up with his friend still ahead of him on the street. “I’ll not keep you. Horatia’s dropped a glove and I wish to return it to her.”

“Plagued by a bit of chivalry, eh? Go on then, I want to stop here a moment.” He pointed to a bookshop.

“Very good. Catch me up when you’re ready.”

Lucien dodged through the traffic on the road and was halfway across the street when pandemonium struck.

Bond Street was turned on its head as screams tore through the air. The coach that had been shadowing him raced down the road in Lucien’s direction. Yet, rather than trying to halt the team, the driver whipped the horses, urging them directly at Lucien.

He was too far across the street to turn back; he had to get to safety and get others out of the way. Horatia! She could be trampled when it passed her. Lucien’s heart shot into his throat as he ran. The driver whipped the horses again, as if sensing Lucien’s determination to escape.

“Horatia!” Lucien bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Out of the way!”

About the Author

Amazon Best Selling author, Lauren Smith is an attorney by day, author by night, who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She’s a native Oklahoman who lives with her three pets: a feisty chinchilla, sophisticated cat and dapper little schnauzer. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including being an Amazon.com Breakthrough Novel Award Quarter-Finalist and a Semi-Finalist for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award.

 WebsiteFacebookTwitterGoodreads 

“Smith’s fast-paced historical keeps readers on their toes as they’re taken hostage by a whirlwind of characters and an unforgettable romance. Readers will get their fair share of emotional outbursts, which includes laughter, lust, anger and sadness…it’s action-packed, sizzling hot and readers of all genres will enjoy the scramble to the finish.”—RT Book Reviews Magazine
 
“Lauren Smith’s debut League of Rogues novel is a fun, clever and wonderfully sympathetic read that will no doubt earn her a number of fans. Her insight into her characters and willingness to take risks with them is impressive…and brought a fresh voice and a heap of compassion, transforming it into something highly readable and quite enjoyable.”—The Romance Reviews
 
“The best thing for me was the quality of Lauren Smith’s writing. I will read her again. She is a fresh voice to watch out for.”—Romantic Historical Reviews
 
“I really enjoyed Wicked Designs, Lauren Smith’s debut Regency historical novel. This witty and entertaining romance features an emotionally scarred hero, a smart heroine and a loveable group of rogues… Emily is a delightful heroine. She is smart, courageous and spirited enough to stand up for herself. I love her determination to outwit her captors and escape. She certainly keeps those five rogues on their toes!”—Rakes and Rascals.com

Gina Danna: Great & Unfortunate Desires

BBT_GreatAndUnfortunateDesires copy

Gina will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click on the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About Great & Unfortunate Desires

Victorian England c. 1870

Operating as a British spy, Tristan St.James, the new Marquis of Wrenworth, barely escapes Afghanistan with his life in the spring of 1869. He plans to seek vengeance against the traitor who exposed him and for the agent he’s forced to kill. Returning to England, as a lord, he must marry. Haunted by guilt from the horrors of war, he avoids love at all costs, but finds himself drawn to the only woman who is disinterested in him.

Lady Evelyn Hurstine has waited over two years for the return of her love, a man who left for war in the East. But during that time, she suffered a brutal assault, resulting in a child and fear of any man touching her except for the man she once knew. The pursuit by the marquis scares her but her excuses against his proposal dwindle.

Their marriage strengthens into love until she discovers her husband isn’t the safety she believed but the one who killed the man she once loved. Caught in a world of intrigue and mayhem, Tristan must prove his love to her before the traitor destroys them both.

AmazonBarnes & Noble

Excerpt

“I shall talk to him shortly.”

Evelyn raised her brows, eyeing over his shoulder. “Shortly may be now, my lord.”

Cover_GreatAndUnfortunateDesires copyTristan turned. Barreling down the lawn, creating a wake in in his path, Evelyn’s father stormed toward them. Not far behind him was Huntington and his son. Tristan gauged their pace and the distance. He had a few seconds and could hear Evelyn’s foot tapping against the grass. Frankly, he was surprised she hadn’t crossed her arms in anger or left him. With every second, her behavior and decision to stay put only made him more interested in her. Damn! Her dowry and position made her exactly what he needed his English bride to be like, with a ramrod backbone and a defiance of societal rules. As Evelyn’s father got closer, there was only one thing Tristan could think of to ensure she become his. In one swift move, he turned, pulled her close, bent her backward, and pressed his cheek to hers. She gasped.

“Considering the situation, you need me as much as I need you. We are the perfect match,” he whispered, smiling and gesturing as if to kiss her.

They both knew in that moment she became his forever. The compromising position between two single people in a public setting was shocking to the ton.

Tristan heard the grass crunching under the footsteps of the Baron and his party. He didn’t look in their direction but eased back from Evelyn, watching her reaction. Suppressed fury blazed in her eyes, and her body was rigid.

“Naught, naught, naught,” he murmured. “To slap me would be appropriate but would serve you no purpose.”

Despite the fire in her gaze, she relaxed a little within his arms. “But it would give me satisfaction nevertheless,” she whispered defiantly, although she didn’t move.

About the Author

AuthorPic_Great and Unfortunate Desires copyBorn in St. Louis, Missouri, Gina Danna has spent the better part of her life reading. History has been her love and she spent numerous hours devouring historical romance stories, dreaming of writing one of her own. Years later, after receiving undergraduate and graduate degrees in History, writing academic research papers and writing for museum programs and events, she finally found the time to write her own stories of historical romantic fiction.

Now, under the supervision of her three dogs and three cats, she writes amid a library of research books, with her only true break away is to spend time with her other life long dream – her Arabian horse – with him, her muse can play.

 WebsiteFacebookTwitter

The York Road: The Stamford Regent Faces the Peril of a Flood

dust jacket

The following post is the nineteenth of a series based on information obtained from a fascinating book Susana recently obtained for research purposes. Coaching Days & Coaching Ways by W. Outram Tristram, first published in 1888, is replete with commentary about travel and roads and social history told in an entertaining manner, along with a great many fabulous illustrations. A great find for anyone seriously interested in English history!

The Playfulness of the River Ouse

Click here to see map.

At a place called St. Neot’s, fifty-six miles from London, the Regent coach used to leave the main road, every now and then, for some reason which remains occult, and go round by some paper mills, which were naturally situated on the flat. The river Ouse has a habit, as is well known, of playfully overflowing its banks, and the consequence was that the road lying before the Regent coach lay sometimes for half a mile under water. Now an extra pair of leaders were put on, and ridden by a horsekeeper, who made the best of his way through a situation which was novel not to say precarious. The water was often up to the axle-trees; and on the particular occasion…went beyond this limit and invaded the inside of the coach. For a moment or two the Stamford Regent was afloat, also two old ladies who were inside of it, with their goods and chattels. Their cries and laments when they found the coach gradually be converted into an Ark were heartrending in the extreme. They gave themselves utterly for gone, and prepared for the most comfortable, but noisiest of all deaths. Nor were the outside passengers in very much better plight. For though they were not sitting absolutely in the water, as I am sorry to say the old ladies were; still they were sitting in wet clothes, which is the next thing to it—and in this situation commanded as fine a prospect of water above, below, and around, as has been seen by travellers I should say since the flood. In addition to this not altogether gratifying panorama of flood effects, unseen dangers were on every side; to wit, a large ditch on one side, and a series of huge heaps of stones on the other; both pleasantly invisible by reason of great waters, but both clearly there for a specific purpose; the stones to overturn the carriage; the ditch to receive it when it had been overturned. It must have been a truly critical five minutes for the Rent, Tom Hennessy, the passengers, the horses and everybody else, but they all got safely through and thanked their stairs.

 carriage flood 18831908-horse-carriage-print-river-flood_700_600_O7K9

 Index to all the posts in this series

1: The Bath Road: The (True) Legend of the Berkshire Lady

2: The Bath Road: Littlecote and Wild William Darrell

3: The Bath Road: Lacock Abbey

4: The Bath Road: The Bear Inn at Devizes and the “Pictorial Chronicler of the Regency”

5: The Exeter Road: Flying Machines, Muddy Roads and Well-Mannered Highwaymen

6: The Exeter Road: A Foolish Coachman, a Dreadful Snowstorm and a Romance

7: The Exeter Road in 1823: A Myriad of Changes in Fifty Years

8: The Exeter Road: Basingstoke, Andover and Salisbury and the Events They Witnessed

9: The Exeter Road: The Weyhill Fair, Amesbury Abbey and the Extraordinary Duchess of Queensberry

10: The Exeter Road: Stonehenge, Dorchester and the Sad Story of the Monmouth Uprising

11: The Portsmouth Road: Royal Road or Road of Assassination?

12: The Brighton Road: “The Most Nearly Perfect, and Certainly the Most Fashionable of All”

13: The Dover Road: “Rich crowds of historical figures”

14: The Dover Road: Blackheath and Dartford

15: The Dover Road: Rochester and Charles Dickens

16: The Dover Road: William Clements, Gentleman Coachman

17: The York Road: Hadley Green, Barnet

18: The York Road: Enfield Chase and the Gunpowder Treason Plot

19: The York Road: The Stamford Regent Faces the Peril of a Flood

20: The York Road: The Inns at Stilton

21: The Holyhead Road: The Gunpowder Treason Plot

22: The Holyhead Road: Three Notable Coaching Accidents

23: The Holyhead Road: Old Lal the Legless Man and His Extraordinary Flying Machine

24: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part I)

25: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part II)

26: Flying Machines and Waggons and What It Was Like To Travel in Them

27: “A few words on Coaching Inns” and Conclusion

Vanessa Kelly: How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy

History Revisited

Hi, Susana! Thanks for hosting me on your lovely blog to talk about How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy. This is the 3rd book in my Renegade Royals historical romance series, featuring the illegitimate sons of England’s royal dukes. Most Regency readers know who Prinny is, aka the Prince Regent, well-known rake and bon vivant. It’s thought that he had at least four illegitimate offspring and possibly more.

IMG_0031 copyBut the Prince Regent wasn’t the only bad boy in the family. Most of his brothers also produced children born on the wrong side of the blanket. The Duke of Kent, for instance, had at least ten with Mrs. Jordan. Trust me—those guys were busy! All told, there may have been as many as twenty-five illegitimate children with royal blood running through their veins. It’s fairly ironic, then, that there was such a scramble to produce a legitimate heir to the throne after the death of Princess Charlotte, the Prince Regent’s daughter, in 1817.

There’s not a lot of information about most of these children. After all, their births would surely have been scandalous and, in most cases, would not have been formally acknowledged. That, naturally, makes them perfect fodder for writers, since we can take quite a lot of license in creating characters that are actually well grounded in historical fact. That’s what I did with my Renegade Royals: I researched the royal dukes and their reputed offspring, worked up the appropriate timelines, and then came up with fictional heroes who would fit both the period and also my goals for the book.

Which, of course, is to write sexy, appealing, and dashing heroes that my heroines and readers will fall in love with!

How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy introduces the next two heroes in the series—Captain Will Endicott and Captain Alasdair (Alec) Gilbride. Will is the son of the Duke of York, and Alasdair is the son of the Duke of Kent. They’re friends, cousins, and military spies who’ve worked many missions together.

Now, I have to admit that my inspiration for Will and Alec didn’t just come from history. While I was developing the proposal for this particular book, I also happened to be binge-watching the TV show Strike Back, an exciting thriller about two agents for the British Defense Intelligence Service. I won’t deny that some elements of that show, particularly the portrayal of the heroes, made their way into my story! It was huge fun to meld modern inspiration with historical background to create my take on a slice of Regency history.

How much history do you like in your historical romance? Do you prefer the emphasis on the history or the romance, or does it matter?

One person who comments will win a copy of Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard, book one in the series.

How to plan a weddingroyal spy copy

About How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy

Whether as spies or lovers, the Renegade Royals—illegitimate sons of England’s Royal Princes—are bold, skillful, and a force to be reckoned with…

A war hero returned from Waterloo should be able to indulge in a bit of bad behavior. Instead, Captain William Endicott is summoned by his father, the Duke of York, to investigate an assassination plot. The unlikely suspect: William’s former sweetheart. Will can’t believe that innocent Evie Whitney could be mixed up in anything so nefarious. Then again, almost everything about Evie has changed—except for his body’s instinctive response to hers…

Just as Evie’s life is finally coming together, Will saunters back into it. Should she slap him—or seduce him? Even as she tries to decide, scandal pushes her toward marriage with a man she can neither trust nor resist—and into the heart of a deadly conspiracy…

Buy Links

Excerpt

Will pushed away from the column, scowling at the smirk on Alec’s face. “It’s about time you showed up. I’ve been trailing around after Beaumont and his friends for the last hour, trying not to look like a lunatic. The last time I dodged behind a potted palm our hostess looked ready to have me carted off to Bedlam.” He was joking, of course, since his skills at discreet surveillance were as good as they’d ever been—despite the distractions Evie posed.

Alec, resplendent in his regimentals, cast a quick glance around them.

“No one is listening,” Will said dryly. “You know I haven’t lost my touch.”

His cousin shrugged. “Can’t be too careful, not with the cannonball this bloody assignment is turning out to be.” His gaze fixed on Beaumont and Evie, just coming off the dance floor on the other side of the massive ballroom. “I spent some time with Beaumont last week. While you were capering about with Miss Evelyn, I was practically paying court to the fellow. God only knows what he must think of me.”

“That you’re an ardent philanthropist, no doubt. And, by the way, I was hardly capering with Evie. Except for that day in the ruins, she’s treated me like I’m a leper, bells and all.”

Alec folded his arms across his chest and smiled, conveying the appearance of a man engaged in casual conversation. He liked to give the impression that he was a genial and not very bright giant, but Will knew he had his eye on Beaumont, Evie, and probably twenty other people in the room at the same time. “I noticed that. What did you do to rattle the poor girl?”

“I’m not sure,” Will said with a casual shrug. It was a lie, but Alec didn’t need the gory details. “I suppose she hasn’t yet forgiven me for abandoning her, as she put it.”

“And yet you two seemed quite chummy in the carriage.”

“I know it’s difficult, but try not to be an idiot,” Will replied in a tone of false sympathy.

Alec’s laughing gray eyes flashed back at him. “Someone is certainly in a foul mood. You know what you need?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“A visit to a cozy little brothel. It’s been much too long since you’ve had a good shagging.”

“I think not, but feel free to carry on without me.”

His cousin let out a soft hoot. “That’s what I thought. You’re still keen on the girl, aren’t you?”

Will narrowed his eyes in warning. “I suggest we stick to business. We haven’t had much chance to speak the last few days, since you’ve been busy with other things.”

Before answering, Alec took the time to give a pair of pretty girls strolling by a flourishing bow. They both giggled, flirting behind their fans, before gliding away.

“I’m sorry, old son,” Alec finally said in a vague manner. “What were we talking about?”

SusanaSays3Susana Says

…another thoroughly enjoyable Regency romp: 5/5 stars!

I can’t say enough about Ms. Kelly’s knack for characterization. The relationship between Evie and Edie, their parents (particularly their frequently misguided mother), and Will and his friend Alec (surely the next of the not-so-royal brood to be struck by Cupid’s arrow) give the story authenticity. Hovering over the courtship—if it can be called that—is a dangerous secret that threatens to wreak havoc on the security of England…and yet Ms. Kelly manages to weave it all together with a light touch of humor, leaving no doubts in the reader’s mind that Will and Evie’s romance will stand the test of time.

Highly recommended read!

About the Author

Vanessa Kelly is an award-winning author who was named by Booklist, the review journal of the American Library Association, as one of the “New Stars of Historical Romance.”  Her Regency-set historical romances have been nominated for awards in a number of contests, and her second book, Sex and The Single Earl, won the prestigious Maggie Medallion for Best Historical Romance. Her current series, The Renegade Royals, is a national bestseller. Vanessa also writes USA Today Bestselling contemporary romance with her husband under the pen name of V.K. Sykes.

Website • FacebookTwitter

The York Road: Enfield Chase and the Gunpowder Treason Plot

dust jacket

The following post is the eigthteenth of a series based on information obtained from a fascinating book Susana recently obtained for research purposes. Coaching Days & Coaching Ways by W. Outram Tristram, first published in 1888, is replete with commentary about travel and roads and social history told in an entertaining manner, along with a great many fabulous illustrations. A great find for anyone seriously interested in English history!

The Gunpowder Treason Plot

The conspirators

The conspirators

In 1605, a group of English Catholics, led by Robert Catesby, met at a house called White Webbs near Enfield Chase, to plot to assassinate James I and put his daughter Elizabeth on the throne, who, although only nine years old, was to be the Catholic head of state. An anonymous letter galvanized the authorities into action. Guy Fawkes was found in the House of Lords with 36 barrels of gunpowder on October 26, 1605. The other conspirators fled, but were captured, although Catesby was killed in a shootout. The other men, including a Jesuit priest called Father Garnet, were sentenced to be hanged, drawn and quartered. There was speculation that the priest, although he undoubtedly knew of the plot, was innocent because of his vow to the confidentiality of the confessional. Our illustrious author, however, seems to think that Father Garnet was in it up to his eyeballs.

For here, at this lonely house, then in the middle of Enfield Chase, nearly all the actors in the dark catastrophe, imminent at Westminster, at one time or another gathered. Over and over again the ten miles between Enfield Wash and London must have rung to the sound of their horses’ hoofs, as they rode fiercely between White Webbs and London. That Catesby was here ten days before the mediated explosion is evident from Winter’s confession:

“Then was the parliament anew prorogued until the fifth of November, so as we all went down until some ten days before, when Mr. Catesby came up with Mr. Fawkes to an house by Enfield Chase called White Webbs, whither I came to them, and Mr. Catesby willed me to inquire whether the young prince came to the parliament: I tolde him I heard that his grace thought not to be there. ‘Then must we have our horses,’ said Mr. Catesby, ‘beyond the water, and provision of more company to surprise the prince, and leave the duke alone.’”

That a more important factor in the deadly design—if the latest judgment of posterity is to be believed even that Catesby himself was frequently at the old house in Enfield Chase is shown in the examination of James Johnson: that is to say in the examination of Guy Fawkes.

It was stated by him that the place had been taken of Dr. Huicke by his master, Mr. Meaze, of Berkshire, for his sister, Mrs. Perkins (alias Mrs. Ann Vaux); that Mrs. Vaux had spent a month there and mass had been said by a priest whose name deponent did not know.

Father Henry Garnet

Father Henry Garnet

And as Mr. Meaze, of Berkshire, was none other than Henry Garnet, the Provincial of the English Jesuits, the importance of the testimony becomes apparent. And the fact gives birth to a fancy. It is interesting to me to think that Mr. Meaze, of Berkshire, with his candid blue eyes, his fair curling hair, his polished, courteous manners, his form tending to an embonpoint by no means suggestive of asceticism; it is interesting to me, I say, to think that Mr. Meaze of Berkshire, may have been a well-known and respected figure about Enfield Wash. That he may have been recognized as Father Garnet, for the first time as he stood absolutely under the beam on that May morning—”the morrow of the Invention of the Cross”—on the great scaffold at the west of end of old St. Paul’s; that he may have been recognized there by some Enfield yeoman, who had ridden in from Enfield to see the show, little expecting to see in the last victim, in the most distinguished of all the victims perhaps, to a justly outraged justice, the courteous, handsome stranger, who he had so admired and respected down in his quiet Enfield home!

Father Garnet at the gallows

Father Garnet at the gallows

Guy Fawkes Day

Apparently, all that remains of Guy Fawkes Day is an occasional bonfire and the burning of effigies of disliked celebrities, and fireworks. In some places it gets lumped together with Halloween. But it no longer has much to do with religion and politics as it originally did.

Guy Fawkes interrogated by James I

Guy Fawkes interrogated by James I

 

 Index to all the posts in this series

1: The Bath Road: The (True) Legend of the Berkshire Lady

2: The Bath Road: Littlecote and Wild William Darrell

3: The Bath Road: Lacock Abbey

4: The Bath Road: The Bear Inn at Devizes and the “Pictorial Chronicler of the Regency”

5: The Exeter Road: Flying Machines, Muddy Roads and Well-Mannered Highwaymen

6: The Exeter Road: A Foolish Coachman, a Dreadful Snowstorm and a Romance

7: The Exeter Road in 1823: A Myriad of Changes in Fifty Years

8: The Exeter Road: Basingstoke, Andover and Salisbury and the Events They Witnessed

9: The Exeter Road: The Weyhill Fair, Amesbury Abbey and the Extraordinary Duchess of Queensberry

10: The Exeter Road: Stonehenge, Dorchester and the Sad Story of the Monmouth Uprising

11: The Portsmouth Road: Royal Road or Road of Assassination?

12: The Brighton Road: “The Most Nearly Perfect, and Certainly the Most Fashionable of All”

13: The Dover Road: “Rich crowds of historical figures”

14: The Dover Road: Blackheath and Dartford

15: The Dover Road: Rochester and Charles Dickens

16: The Dover Road: William Clements, Gentleman Coachman

17: The York Road: Hadley Green, Barnet

18: The York Road: Enfield Chase and the Gunpowder Treason Plot

19: The York Road: The Stamford Regent Faces the Peril of a Flood

20: The York Road: The Inns at Stilton

21: The Holyhead Road: The Gunpowder Treason Plot

22: The Holyhead Road: Three Notable Coaching Accidents

23: The Holyhead Road: Old Lal the Legless Man and His Extraordinary Flying Machine

24: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part I)

25: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part II)

26: Flying Machines and Waggons and What It Was Like To Travel in Them

27: “A few words on Coaching Inns” and Conclusion

The York Road: Hadley Green, Barnet

dust jacket

The following post is the seventeenth of a series based on information obtained from a fascinating book Susana recently obtained for research purposes. Coaching Days & Coaching Ways by W. Outram Tristram, first published in 1888, is replete with commentary about travel and roads and social history told in an entertaining manner, along with a great many fabulous illustrations. A great find for anyone seriously interested in English history!

The Great North Road

map

220px-Hadley_GreenAnd Barnet is soon a memory on the great north road. A memory however which shows some claim to “recollection dear”, fixing as it does the site of a great battle and of a highwayman’s exploits, which have occupied almost the same space in history—I mean fiction—No! I mean history. To come to details:—On Hadley Green, half-a-mile to the north of the town, was fought on a raw, cold and dismal Easter Day, in the year 1471, the famous battle between the Houses of York and Lancaster which ended in the death of the king-maker, and established Edward IV on the throne; and behind an oak tree, which still stands opposite the Green Man at the junction of the York and Holyhead Roads, the immortal Dick Turpin used to sit silent on his mare, Black Bess, patiently waiting for some traveller to speak to.

The romanticized Dick Turpin

The romanticized highwayman

A Not-So-Gallant Highwayman

Dick Turpin attacking the mail-coach in Epping ForestLet me preface this by saying that the real Dick Turpin was a violent criminal and not the sort of gallant Robin Hood frequently found in historical romances and in William Harrison Ainsworth’s Rookwood. His gangs robbed, maimed, killed and raped. It was due to men like him that coaches traveling on the highways of England often had armed outriders for protection. Nor was he a particularly handsome fellow. The London Gazette describes him as:

Richard Turpin, a butcher by trade, is a tall fresh coloured man, very much marked with the small pox, about 26 years of age, about five feet nine inches high, lived some time ago in Whitechapel and did lately lodge somewhere about Millbank, Westminster, wears a blue grey coat and a natural wig.

The London Gazette: no. 7379. p. 1. 22 February 1734. )

turpin1

Prior to taking up coach-robbing, Turpin was part of a gang who did what we would call home invasions—beating and torturing the occupants, in one case forcing a bare-buttocked man to sit on the fire. Scenes right out of Criminal Minds! A behavioral analyst would understand this better than I, because I simply cannot imagine why anyone would do this for the piddly amount they came away with—often less than thirty pounds!

That gang—termed the “Essex Gang”—ceased to exist when authorities rounded up and executed many of the members in 1735. That’s when our Dick turned to robbing coaches. He was hiding out in Epping forest when he shot and killed a servant who recognized him.

Dick_turpin_murderer

It having been represented to the King, that Richard Turpin did on Wednesday the 4th of May last, barbarously murder Thomas Morris, Servant to Henry Tomson, one of the Keepers of Epping-Forest, and commit other notorious Felonies and Robberies near London, his Majesty is pleased to promise his most gracious Pardon to any of his Accomplices, and a Reward of 200l. to any Person or Persons that shall discover him, so as he may be apprehended and convicted. Turpin was born at Thacksted in Essex, is about Thirty, by Trade a Butcher, about 5 Feet 9 Inches high, brown Complexion, very much mark’d with the Small Pox, his Cheek-bones broad, his Face thinner towards the Bottom, his Visage short, pretty upright, and broad about the Shoulders.

—The Gentleman’s Magazine (June 1737)

Escaping to the north, he began calling himself Palmer, and under that name, was accused of shooting another man’s cock (a chicken, I believe!) and tossed in the House of Correction at Beverley. Suspected of horse theft, he was transferred to York Castle and sentenced to death for that. It wasn’t until he wrote a letter to his brother-in-law—who promptly refused it—that his true identity was discovered. He was executed at Knavesmire and buried at St. George’s Church in Fishergate. Ironically, his body was robbed by bodysnatchers, who made their living selling bodies to medical schools—but it was recovered soon after and reburied.

Dick-Turpin-Grave

 Index to all the posts in this series

1: The Bath Road: The (True) Legend of the Berkshire Lady

2: The Bath Road: Littlecote and Wild William Darrell

3: The Bath Road: Lacock Abbey

4: The Bath Road: The Bear Inn at Devizes and the “Pictorial Chronicler of the Regency”

5: The Exeter Road: Flying Machines, Muddy Roads and Well-Mannered Highwaymen

6: The Exeter Road: A Foolish Coachman, a Dreadful Snowstorm and a Romance

7: The Exeter Road in 1823: A Myriad of Changes in Fifty Years

8: The Exeter Road: Basingstoke, Andover and Salisbury and the Events They Witnessed

9: The Exeter Road: The Weyhill Fair, Amesbury Abbey and the Extraordinary Duchess of Queensberry

10: The Exeter Road: Stonehenge, Dorchester and the Sad Story of the Monmouth Uprising

11: The Portsmouth Road: Royal Road or Road of Assassination?

12: The Brighton Road: “The Most Nearly Perfect, and Certainly the Most Fashionable of All”

13: The Dover Road: “Rich crowds of historical figures”

14: The Dover Road: Blackheath and Dartford

15: The Dover Road: Rochester and Charles Dickens

16: The Dover Road: William Clements, Gentleman Coachman

17: The York Road: Hadley Green, Barnet

18: The York Road: Enfield Chase and the Gunpowder Treason Plot

19: The York Road: The Stamford Regent Faces the Peril of a Flood

20: The York Road: The Inns at Stilton

21: The Holyhead Road: The Gunpowder Treason Plot

22: The Holyhead Road: Three Notable Coaching Accidents

23: The Holyhead Road: Old Lal the Legless Man and His Extraordinary Flying Machine

24: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part I)

25: The Holyhead Road: The Coachmen “More Celebrated Even Than the Most Celebrated of Their Rivals” (Part II)

26: Flying Machines and Waggons and What It Was Like To Travel in Them

27: “A few words on Coaching Inns” and Conclusion

A Regency Christmas Quiz

A Regency Christmas Quiz

(Answers below)

For this quiz, the Regency is defined as 1811-1830.

True/False

  1. Christmas trees lit by candles were common decorations in Regency England.
  2. Gift-giving was a prominent Christmas tradition in Regency times.
  3. The Twelve Days of Christmas began on December 26 and ended on January 6 and did not include Christmas Day because it was a solemn, holy day and not one for partying.
  4. Many Christmas traditions were pagan in origin.
  5. Although it originated as a pagan ceremony to ensure a good apple crop, wassailing became more of caroling event in the Regency.
  6. Christmas Pudding, or Plum Cake, contains raisins rather than plums.
  7. A Christmas Pudding can be made months in advance.
  8. Finding a thimble in your slice of Christmas Pudding means good luck for the coming year.
  9. Mince pie and all things Christmas were banned during Cromwell’s reign because they were considered “pagan,” but it all came back when Charles II came into power.
  10. Originally, mince pie was made with meat and spices and served as a main course.
  11. The three spices in mince pie—cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg—were meant to represent the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
  12. Originally, the Yule Log was from the largest tree that would fit in the fireplace so it would keep burning throughout the Twelve Days of Christmas.
  13. “Mummers” were traveling troupes of actors who would go door-to-door offering to perform and sing for a few coins.
  14. In the Regency era, Christmas decorations were often left up throughout the month of January.
  15. Silent Night was one of the Christmas songs commonly sung in the Regency era.
  16. The custom of stealing kisses beneath the kissing bough, or even a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling or doorway in a place where people were certain to walk beneath it, became popular in the late eighteenth century.
  17. Boxing Day was a time to reward servants, tenants and tradesmen with gifts of money and/or food.
  18. Plough Monday, which is the Monday after Twelfth Day (Epiphany), is when the farm laborers are called back to work after the Christmastide.
  19. Christmas Eve was the traditional night for wassailing.
  20. If your piece of King Cake contained a bean, you were crowned “King” for the night.

Contest Winner

(from the Sweet N Sexy Divas blog contest)

Nancy Mayer

Regency Researcher Extraordinaire

Answers

  1. False. Christmas trees did not appear until the Victorian era, when Prince Albert brought the German custom to England.
  2. False.
  3. True.
  4. True.
  5. True.
  6. True.
  7. True.
  8. False. It means “thrift.” Finding a wishbone means good luck.
  9. True.
  10. True
  11. False. The three spices were in honor of the Three Magi who came from the Orient to honor the Christ Child.
  12. False. The Yule Log was the largest and tallest true and was inserted the long way into the fireplace, with the rest jutting out into the room. In the Regency era, it was a large log that would burn at least twelve hours on Christmas Day.
  13. True
  14. False. It was bad luck to have them up past Twelfth Day (January 6th).
  15. False. Stille Nacht was one of many German songs that were exported to Britain during the Victorian era.
  16. True.
  17. True. Because servants were required to work on Christmas Day, it was tradition to give them the next day off to spend with their families.
  18. True.
  19. False. Twelfth Night (the evening of January 5th) was the traditional night for wassailing.
  20. True. Whoever got the pea was “Queen.”

About A Twelfth Night Tale

In A Twelfth Night Tale, the Barlows celebrate the holiday with their neighbors, the Livingstons, and the St. Vincents—a wealthy viscount who is courting the elder daughter Lucy and his three daughters. Andrew Livingston, who has returned wounded from the Peninsula, suffers a few pangs of jealousy as he watches the viscount’s attentiveness to the now-grown-up-and-very-desirable Lucy. Is it too late for him to stake a claim for her?

http://www.susanaellis.com/A_Twelfth_Night_Tale.html

twelfthnighttale_msr copy200x300

Ellora’s Cave • Amazon • Barnes & Noble • Kobo

 

Nancy Fraser: Dream Lover

BBT_TourBanner_DreamLover copy

Nancy will be awarding $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click on the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About Dream Lover

Haley Parker lost her academic scholarship when she quit school to care for her dying mother. Now, eager to return to her studies, she must find the perfect job that will allow her the freedom to attend evening classes.

Her best friend Chloe teaches at one of Boston’s finest private schools, a job Haley had once hoped would be hers. When Chloe snags Haley a referral for a position as nanny to high-powered attorney, Eric Garrison’s, two young children, Haley looks forward to taking on the task.

Eric finds himself drawn to the intelligent and loving young woman who has bewitched his children. It’s not long before he’s re-thinking his plan to avoid romantic entanglements. On a family vacation to Paris, he finds it impossible to resist the lovely, yet innocent Haley.

Haley willingly gives up her innocence for a chance to make love with Eric, even though she realizes it will change their professional relationship forever.

Dream Lover, as well as the four previous novellas in the Golden Decade of Rock and Roll Series, will be on sale for $0.99 during the tour. 

Amazon • Barnes & Noble • The Wild Rose Press

Excerpt

They finished the first book and were five pages into a second when the door to the library opened.

“Daddy,” Winnie shouted, jumping off Haley’s lap and running toward the opposite side of the room.

Haley stood and set the book down on the table beside the chair and then turned to meet Eric Garrison, the man who would hopefully become her employer. The moment their gazes met, Haley’s breath caught and her heartbeat picked up its tempo, fluttering inside her chest as wildly as the wings of the smallest hummingbird. The man was absolutely the most handsome she’d ever seen.

Her knees knocking, Haley started forward until she stood a few feet from the man. “Good evening, Mr. Garrison, I’m Haley Parker.”

“Miss Parker,” he acknowledged, nodding in her direction while scooping his daughter up in his arms. “I see my daughter has already coaxed you into reading her a book.”

BookCover_DreamLover copy“Yes, we were just beginning our second.”

“Between your willingness to read storybooks and your obvious skill at making paper hats, I’m sure you’ve already won over both my children. However, it would be remiss of me to not conduct a proper interview.”

“Of course.”

Eric Garrison pressed a quick kiss to his daughter’s forehead and suggested, “Doodlebug, perhaps you could head up to your room and get ready for bed. I’ll come up in a few minutes and finish your storybook.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She turned in Haley’s direction, “It was very nice meeting you, Miss Haley.”

“It was very nice meeting you as well, Winnie.”

“I’m sure my daddy will like you as much as we do.”

Haley could only hope that were true. “She’s a lovely child,” Haley said once Winnie had left the room.

Eric Garrison motioned Haley toward one of the two chairs facing the fireplace then took the other for himself. “She can be handful, as can her brother. I’m looking for someone who, while exploring both academics and play, can administer discipline when necessary.”

“Discipline?” Haley repeated. The thought of spanking a child totally went against everything she believed.

“Time spent in their rooms, contemplation of bad behavior,” he clarified. “I do not condone physical punishment of any sort.”

Haley breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Neither do I Mr. Garrison. I find the best approach to questionable behavior is either quiet time or perhaps an additional school lesson.”             He nodded in agreement. “I understand you are friends with Winnie’s teacher.”

“Yes, Chloe and I grew up together and were roommates at college, at least for the first two years.”

“Mrs. Wilkes tells me you dropped out to care for an ailing mother. I find your sacrifice most admirable, yet a bit foolhardy.”

“Foolhardy? How can caring for loved ones seem rash or unwise?”

“Foregoing the remainder of your education sets you up for failure. Or, do you prefer a position as a nanny to that of a teacher?”

Haley suddenly understood what Stephen Garrison meant when he suggested his brother had scared off yet another nanny. The man was obviously not shy about voicing his opinion of other people’s choices in life.

“I have no intention of giving up on my desire to become a teacher, Mr. Garrison. I fully intend to devote my evenings off to night school and the eventual attainment of my degree.”

“At which point, I’ll be out a nanny.” His serious expression would have been worrisome were it not for the softness of his amber-colored eyes. He pressed a finger to his mouth and tapped his lower lip, as if in deep thought.

Had her honesty about returning to school possibly cost her the job? Haley’s heart skipped a beat while she formulated an appropriate answer. “I don’t foresee graduation any sooner than two years from now. By then, your son will also be in school full time, and your need for a full time nanny will likely diminish.”

He nodded, as if accepting her logic. “Agreed. I do applaud your decision to return to school as long as you can guarantee me it will not interfere with your care of my children.”

“You have my word, Mr. Garrison.”

He sighed deeply, as if contemplating the taking of a wife rather than the hiring of a nanny. “We can give it a try, if you’re agreeable. I’ll prepare an employment contract for your review. Would you be available to begin next Monday?”

“I see no reason why not. While I am working part time at the moment, they do know I am looking for a permanent position and will not mind my leaving on short notice.”

Eric Garrison passed Haley a folded piece of paper. “This is my offer for both salary and incidentals. Please review it tonight and if you require any changes, convey them to Mrs. Wilkes by tomorrow afternoon. As long as the request is not outrageous, I will work it into the finished contract.”

He stood and Haley rose to her feet behind him. Her fingers itched with the urge to unfold the paper and see what he offered. Yet, it seemed somewhat tacky to do so right there in front of him.

“I look forward to working with your children, Mr. Garrison, and with the rest of your staff. I appreciate the opportunity.”

“The majority of the staff refer to me either as sir, or Mr. G. I do allow Mrs. Wilkes and her husband to call me Eric, in deference to their years of service with my family.

“Do you have a preference as to how I should address you?”

Haley could have sworn she saw a muscle twitch in his cheek just before he leveled his gaze on her face. Heat radiated up from the Peter Pan collar of her blouse and warmed her neck. If he didn’t stop staring at her, she was sure she’d turn beet red at any moment.

“You may call me Mr. Garrison, Mr. G, or sir in front of the other staff and my children and Eric if it’s just us.”

Just us? Was he crazy? Once their initial meeting was over, Haley had no intention of ever being alone with Eric Garrison again.

About the Author

Like most authors, Nancy Fraser began writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English teacher’s pet, which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it was worth it.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five beautiful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people. She invites you to visit her website, her blog, and follow her on Twitter. Or, more importantly, just enjoy what she writes.

Website • Blog • Twitter • Facebook • Goodreads