You Might Be a #Regency Redneck If… (Christmas Edition) A Guest Post by @LouisaCornell #books


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You Might Be a Regency Redneck If…

Christmas Edition

A Guest Post by Louisa Cornell 

 

I write Regency historical romance because I fell in love with the era at the age of nine, and my love has only grown stronger since. I love the manners, the rules of proper conduct, the elegant clothes (especially men in breeches and boots,) travel in carriages and on horseback, the stately homes, and every aspect of life in this unique period.

 

Be that as it may, I have come to realize there are some aspects of Regency life, even in the most elite portions of society, that would not be amiss in the red plastic cup, mud-bogging, tobacco spitting locale in which I live today. Directions to my house do include the words “Turn off the paved road.”

 

Lest you think I use the term “redneck” as a pejorative, I spent a large portion of my childhood living in mobile homes in the South. My mother’s family were Native American sharecroppers. My father’s family were Pennsylvania coal miners. I know who and what I am. Jeff Foxworthy, the leading expert on the redneck lifestyle, defines it as “a glorious lack of sophistication.” For the purposes of this essay, and in my semi-expert opinion, that is the definition we will use.

 

There are examples of redneck behavior to be found in every race, religion, socio-economic group, and country in the world. I now realize the same is true of every historical era. Rednecks have been with us forever. Even during that most gracious and elegant of times—The Regency.

 

Prove it, you say? I give you a series of Regency Christmas traditions any self-respecting redneck would be happy to call his or her own.

 

Snapdragon

 

Under the heading of a Regency version of “Hey y’all, watch this!” comes the Christmas game of Snapdragon. Raisins and nuts were soaked in brandy in a large shallow bowl. The lights were put out, and the brandy lit. People had to try and grasp a raisin or nut and eat it without burning themselves. The winner was the person who managed to capture and eat the most. I think you’d have to soak me in brandy to get me to try it!

 

Bullet Pudding

 

Another Regency era Christmas game with a redneck flair is bullet pudding. One must have a large pewter dish piled high with flour pushed to a peak at the top. A single bullet is placed at the crest of the “pudding.” Players take turns cutting a slice of the “pudding” with a knife. The person who is slicing the “pudding” when the bullet falls must then put their hands behind their back and poke about in the pile of flour with their nose and chin to find the bullet. Once they find it, they must retrieve it with their mouth. All the while trying desperately not to join their companions in laughter as this will result in flour being inhaled into the mouth and nose. Regardless, the bullet retriever ends up with flour all over his face. Any game played with live ammunition and the promise of someone ending up covered in a mess would be as welcome at a Redneck Christmas as it was at Regency Christmases.

 

There were no Christmas carolers in Regency England. However, wassail groups would go from house to house singing begging songs in the hope of receiving food, drink, and money. Wassail was a mixture of beer, wine, and brandy and was usually served to the singers at each house. Every house. A great many houses before the night was done. I think I’ve seen groups like this around my neighborhood at Christmas-time.

 

Very few houses had our idea of Christmas trees during the Regency. Such decorated Christmas trees were made popular in England by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in the middle of the 19th century. However, trees were not left out of the Regency holidays. On Epiphany Eve, men would gather round a fruit tree, usually in an orchard, with cider and guns. In an ancient ceremony, they would drink to the tree and fire the guns to drive away evil spirits and promote the vigor of the trees. Horn-blowing was an alternative to firing guns. (Sounds like a Regency tail-gating party to me!)

 

Speaking of trees, what could be more fun than a large group of men sent out into the woods to find the largest log possible to burn in the Christmas fireplace? The yule log had to be large enough to burn through the entire twelve days of Christmas. In fact, it had to be large enough to burn through to Twelfth Night and leave enough to be used to light next year’s log. Between the mine is bigger than yours aspects of the hunt for the yule log and the opportunity to show off one’s strength in helping to drag the log home, this Regency Christmas tradition is rife with redneck possibilities.

 

Round out your Regency Christmas outdoor adventures with shooting mistletoe out of the trees (a method used by many Regency bucks) and hanging it about the house in every doorway and dark corner, a Regency version of spin-the-bottle if ever I’ve heard one.

 

Oh, and don’t forget a Christmas dessert for which many families put the ingredients on layaway. K-Mart did not invent the concept. The original Christmas clubs were for families who could not afford to pay for the ingredients for their Christmas pudding all at once. Wives in less affluent households deposited their pennies with their local shopkeepers in order to have the money to purchase those luxury food items necessary for a proper Christmas pudding. And after all of that, said dessert was brought to the table amidst great pomp and ceremony and… set on fire. Anyone who doesn’t believe your average redneck would shout “Hell, yeah!” at the idea of a flaming Christmas dessert has never been to a Christmas barbecue in the South.

 

At the end of Christmas Day, men and women of every age, no matter how strict the rules of society, tend to celebrate this joyous holiday with a bit more exuberance than decorum prescribes. Even Regency ladies and gentlemen, at least during Christmastide, might show “a glorious lack of sophistication.” So should we all!

 

Title: Christmas Revels II: Four Regency Novellas

 

Author: Louisa Cornell

 

Genre: Historical Romance

 

Publisher: Singing Spring Press

 

 

Book Blurb:

 

Let the Revels begin-again! Four new stories with four distinctive voices:

The Vicar’s Christmas – Margaret Trent never needs anything or anyone, but when two London solicitors show up on her doorstep, she needs a hero. Enter Henry Ogden, mild-mannered village vicar. Hardly the stuff of heroes… until adversity brings out unexpected talents.

A Christmas Equation – A chance meeting between a reluctant viscount and a self-effacing companion revives memories of their shared past-a time when they were very different people. With secrets to keep, Sarah Clendenin wishes Benjamin Radcliff gone… but he’s making calculations of his own.

Crimson Snow – A trail of blood drops leads Jane Merrywether to a wounded stranger-the only person standing in the way of her wicked guardian becoming an earl. John Rexford, long-thought dead, has returned to claim his inheritance and his promised bride… if he can survive a murderous Christmas.

A Perfectly Unregimented Christmas – After years at war, Viscount Pennyworth returns to his ancestral home to find some peace and quiet and to avoid the holiday he loathes. But four naughty boys, a bonnet-wearing goat, a one-eyed cat, a family secret, and one Annabelle Winters, governess, make this a Christmas he’ll never forget.

 

Christmas in July Fete Sackful of Giveaways:

 

Grand Prize: $75 USD Amazon Gift Card

$5 Amazon gift card and a 1940’s style hair wrap

(plus more prizes…)

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/92db77506/?

Open Internationally

Starts July 1, 2017 12:01 am EST and ends August 1, 2017 12:00 am EST

 

Buy Links:

Amazon – http://a.co/4ogrKbC

 

Apple iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency/id1047951334?mt=11

 

Barns and Nobles – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/christmas-revels-ii-hannah-meredith/1122771468?ean=9781942470007

 

Kobo – https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency-novellas

 

Print – https://www.createspace.com/5739761

 

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Author Biography:

 

Louisa Cornell read her first historical romance novel, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, at the age of nine. This inspired her to spend the next three years of her young life writing the most horrible historical romance novel ever written. Fortunately, it has yet to see the light of day. As Louisa spent those three years living in a little English village in Suffolk (Thanks to her father’s Air Force career.) it is no surprise she developed a lifelong love of all things British, especially British history and Regency-set romance novels. (And Earl Grey tea!)

During those same three years, Louisa’s vocal talent was discovered. Her study of music began at the London College of Music and continued once she returned to the States. After four music degrees and a year of study at the Mozarteum in Salzburg, Austria, Louisa was fortunate enough to embark on a singing career in opera houses in Germany, Austria, and most of Eastern Europe.

Now retired from an active career in opera, Louisa has returned to her first love – writing Regency-set historical romance. Two of her novellas have appeared in CHRISTMAS REVELS anthologies, A PERFECTLY DREADFUL CHRISTMAS and A PERFECTLY UNREGIMENTED CHRISTMAS .  A PERFECTLY DREADFUL CHRISTMAS was the 2015 Winner of the Holt Medallion Award for outstanding literary fiction in a romance novella. Her first full-length novel, LOST IN LOVE, has recently been published and is available widely.

Two-time Golden Heart finalist, three time Daphne du Maurier winner, and three time Royal Ascot winner, Louisa is a member of RWA, SMRWA and the Beau Monde Chapter of RWA. She lives in LA (Lower Alabama) with a Chihuahua so grouchy he has been banned from six veterinary clinics, several perfectly amiable small dogs, and a cat who terminates vermin with extreme prejudice.

 

Social Media Links:

http://onelondonone.blogspot.com/ http://www.louisacornell.com/
https://twitter.com/LouisaCornell
https://www.facebook.com/RegencyWriterLouisaCornell
https://www.facebook.com/louisa.cornell
https://www.pinterest.com/louisacornell/

           

 

 

 

Christmas Revels II by Four #Regency #Romance Authors is Delightful! #bookreview #FridayReads


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Title: Christmas Revels II: Four Regency Novellas

Author: Hannah Meredith, Anna D. Allen, Louisa Cornell, & Kate Parker

Genre: Regency Romance, Historical Romance

 

Book Blurb:

Let the Revels begin-again! Four new stories with four distinctive voices:

 

The Vicar’s Christmas – Margaret Trent never needs anything or anyone, but when two London solicitors show up on her doorstep, she needs a hero. Enter Henry Ogden, mild-mannered village vicar. Hardly the stuff of heroes… until adversity brings out unexpected talents.

 

A Christmas Equation – A chance meeting between a reluctant viscount and a self-effacing companion revives memories of their shared past-a time when they were very different people. With secrets to keep, Sarah Clendenin wishes Benjamin Radcliff gone… but he’s making calculations of his own.

 

Crimson Snow – A trail of blood drops leads Jane Merrywether to a wounded stranger-the only person standing in the way of her wicked guardian becoming an earl. John Rexford, long-thought dead, has returned to claim his inheritance and his promised bride… if he can survive a murderous Christmas.

 

A Perfectly Unregimented Christmas – After years at war, Viscount Pennyworth returns to his ancestral home to find some peace and quiet and to avoid the holiday he loathes. But four naughty boys, a bonnet-wearing goat, a one-eyed cat, a family secret, and one Annabelle Winters, governess, make this a Christmas he’ll never forget.

 

My Review:

I love historical romance and this collection is a treat! Four Regency romances, each with its own set of heroes, heroines, conflicts and happy ending. Escape the heat of summer to Regency England at Christmastime.

 

The Vicar’s Christmas –

After the death of her father, Margaret gets an unexpected shock. Not knowing what to do, she calls on Vicar Henry. Henry likes nothing better than to sit in his study and read a good book. But when his friend needs assistance, he comes to her aid. Neither of them expect to fall in love but miracles have been known to happen, especially at Christmastime.

 

I loved this story. It’s beautifully written with colourful characters, snappy dialogue and a flowing plot. A few twists and turns kept me interested and the ending was superb. I instantly bonded with both Henry and Margaret and I’d love to read more of them. 5+ stars

 

A Christmas Equation –

The last time Benjamin saw Sarah, he was a lowly third son and studying science. Now a Viscount, he’s visiting a friend for a hunt and discovers his long-lost love, now a lowly companion and going by another name. She whisks him away and makes him promise to not reveal her true identity to the others.

 

Scandal made her an outcast; Sarah’s heart is closed off to any man but starts beating hope when Benjamin declares his love for her. Can Sarah equate that one plus one equals love or will she subtract love and happiness from her life forever?

 

I enjoyed this story immensely. It’s a second-chance love story, filled with societal confines that try to keep this couple apart. In order to start fresh, both must stop telling half-truths and lay their feelings bare. Emotionally-charged, smart, romance with undertones of scientific theory makes this a fun read. 4.5 stars

 

Crimson Snow –

John Rexford, long thought dead, has returned to claim his birthright but when Jane Merrywether follows a trail of blood and finds him near death, she doesn’t recognize him. She saves his life, brings him back to a place of safety. But her guardian and acting Earl will stop at nothing to make sure Rexford dies and Jane is under his thumb. He invites everyone, including John Rexford, to Christmas dinner with a wicked gleam in his eye. Jane fears the worst and warns Rexford of a possible poisonous plot but someone beat John to the punch. Murder, lies, not to mention deceit swarm around John and Jane. Can they manage to stay alive long enough to solve the murder and be together, like their parents wanted?

 

This was a pretty dark romance and one I didn’t really care for. Sure, the writing is impeccable and the suspense caught me by surprise but I like my Christmas happy, not dangerous and wicked. Sparks fly between Jane and John, which bumped up my rating. 4 stars

 

A Perfectly Unregimented Christmas –

After years away at war and escaping with his life, Viscount Pennyworth returns to his ancestral estate for answers.  When he confronts his grand mama, she stone-walls him. Furious she won’t tell him why he was sent away at ten years old, he storms away. He’ll get the answers, even if it takes until he dies, he’ll make her reveal the secret his mother hinted at all those years ago. Then there’s Belle Winters, a supposed god-daughter and companion to his grand mama. She’s smart, beautiful and wicked tongue. All he wanted was to escape the dreaded Christmas in peace and little does he know, he’s walked into a minefield, riddled with haunted memories and family secrets. Does Belle hold the key to unlocking long-buried secrets and his heart?

 

Another dark romance but one I enjoyed thanks to the constant banter between the Viscount and Belle. She riles him and he riles her, so much so that they naturally fall in love. But his heart is closed off, especially to conniving women that remind him of his mother. Both deny each other the love they crave, thanks to past hurts. Marley the butler was a great secondary character, one which I liked best of all. There’s a steamy sex scene but it was tastefully done. The ending was satisfying. 4 stars

 

Favorite Story: The Vicar’s Christmas. This is my favorite story in this collection for the crux of the story: A single woman’s fight to keep her home from unscrupulous family members, namely her brother-in-law. Margaret’s strength dealing with this emotional blow is weakening and she leans on dependable Vicar Henry. Sparks fly and while Anna stays true to the time period, specifically Regency social graces, I found the ending delightful.

 

My Rating: 4.5 stars

 

Christmas in July Fete Sackful of Giveaways:

 

Grand Prize: $75 USD Amazon Gift Card

2 e-copies of Christmas Revels

(plus more prizes…)

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/92db77506/?

Open Internationally

Starts July 1, 2017 12:01 am EST and ends August 1, 2017 12:00 am EST

 

Buy it now:

Get your copy today for only 99 cents USD!

Amazon – http://a.co/4ogrKbC

Apple iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency/id1047951334?mt=11

Barns and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/christmas-revels-ii-hannah-meredith/1122771468?ean=9781942470007

Kobo – https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency-novellas

Print – https://www.createspace.com/5739761

 

Revellers 4

 

Author Biography:

Hannah Meredith is, above all, a storyteller. She’s long been fascinated by the dreams that haunt the human heart and has an abiding interest in English history. This combination led her to write historical romance. Hannah is a member of RWA and Heart of Carolina Romance Writers.

 

Anna D. Allen lives deep in the woods with too many books and not enough dogs. She holds a Bachelor of Science and a Master of Arts in Language and Literature. Her future plans include growing tomatoes and cleaning out the freezer. When not writing or reading, she can be found in the kitchen.

 

Louisa Cornell is a retired opera singer living in LA (Lower Alabama) who cannot remember a time she wasn’t writing or telling stories. Anglophile, student of Regency England, historical romance writer— she escaped Walmart to write historical romance and hasn’t looked back. She is a member of RWA, Southern Magic RWA, and the Beau Monde Chapter of RWA.

 

Kate Parker grew up reading her mother’s collection of mystery books by Christie, Sayers, and others. Now she can’t write a story without someone being murdered, and everyday items are studied for their lethal potential. It’s taken her years to convince her husband that she hasn’t poisoned dinner; that funny taste is because she just can’t cook.

 

Social Media Links:

Hannah – http://www.hannahmeredith.com

https://www.facebook.com/HannahMeredithAuthor

 

Anna – http://beket1.wix.com/annadallen

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anna-D-Allen/366546213501993

 

Louisa – http://onelondonone.blogspot.com/

http://www.louisacornell.com/

https://twitter.com/LouisaCornell

https://www.facebook.com/RegencyWriterLouisaCornell

https://www.facebook.com/louisa.cornell

https://www.pinterest.com/louisacornell/

 

Kate – http://www.KateParkerbooks.com

https://www.facebook.com/Author.Kate.Parker/

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

 

#CHRISTMASINJULY FETE: The Bastard’s Iberian Bride by @AlinaKField #ROMANCE #BOOKS #GIVEAWAY


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Title: The Bastard’s Iberian Bride

 

Author:       Alina K. Field

 

Genre:        Regency Romance

 

Book Blurb:

Daughter of spies

 

For a chance at true freedom, Paulette Heardwyn needs the fortune left her by her inscrutable father. But she doesn’t know what it is, where it is, or how to find it, and the only man with answers, the Earl of Shaldon, takes his secrets to the grave. Worse, the dead earl tries to force her marriage to his bastard son—and leaves her prey to a traitor seeking the same treasure she’s after.

 

Soldier, Steward, Bastard

 

Bink Gibson is ready to throw off his quiet life as steward to his old commander and head for India and the chance of prosperity. But before he can leave he’s summoned to the deathbed of the Earl of Shaldon, a meddling spymaster, a complete stranger…and his father.

 

And the Earl has set a trap Bink will never be able to resist.

 

Excerpt:

A tap at the door brought the innkeeper’s smiling, buxom maid with a flagon of ale and a pint tankard. Bink thanked her for the drink, and silently, for the interruption, and started speaking before the door shut on the wench, before the lady across from him could stop glaring at her and untie her tongue.

 

“I know we haven’t gone far, Miss Heardwyn, but it is, if you will remember, the Sabbath, and in spite of it, we’ve all had a hard day’s labor. The servants are entitled to a rest. Kincaid and the men will watch over your wagon. Nothing will go missing.”

 

She studied her teacup and worried at her lush lower lip with those perfect white teeth. She was a beauty, was Miss Heardwyn, much more to his taste than the flaxen-haired serving wench, and in other circumstances…

 

“As to the cost.” She cleared her throat.

 

“You are not to worry, miss. I’ve said you will have any monies Shaldon has left me, and I mean it. I will bear the cost tonight, and tomorrow we’ll make the arrangements with Bakeley for the rest.”

 

Her gaze shot up, eyes flashing. She did not want to be in his debt.

 

Or… she did not want to return to Cransdall.

 

She stood and walked to the fireplace. The room had gone warm, and he debated opening one of the casement windows a tad wider.

 

“Mabel, wait outside please,” the lady said, her back to the both of them.

 

Bink eased out of his chair. “Leave the door open, Mabel. You may stand outside and eavesdrop but don’t allow anyone else to listen.”

 

The maid’s lips quivered as she curtsied and hurried out.

 

He turned back to the lady. “Is this where you tell me you will not return to Cransdall?”

 

Paulette’s breath caught. Mr. Gibson had moved up next to her with a great deal of stealth, close enough to lay hands on her if he wished.

 

His big body radiated warmth and suffused her with his scent. Even after a hard day of riding, the man-scent was subtle, no stronger than her farmer’s had been on a Sunday morning, dressed in his best. But the yeoman farmer had repelled her. There was nothing repellant about Mr. Gibson.

 

She reached for some calm, trying to still her heart. She was shorter than most women, true, but even if she’d been tall for a woman, he would still tower over her. He spread one enormous hand against the mantel and leaned into it, sending her heart fluttering into her throat.

 

She coughed to clear it. She must not let him think her weak. “Returning to Cransdall is out of the question for me. If you take me there, I will never be able to leave.”

 

Quiet followed, the long silence making her wonder if he’d actually heard.

 

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

 

This inn was on the main road, the groom had said. She might have enough money to get to London, and then a bit more for her keep once she arrived. For a few days, anyway. Once she located the solicitor and one of her trustees, she would be provided for, surely.

 

She would not tell him those plans.

 

“What of your belongings we rescued today?” he asked, before she could speak.

 

Grrr. He was tricky, this one. She had not thought that far ahead. “They will be safe at Cransdall, surely. Kincaid and the grooms can take them back. You can return to your home.”

 

“And you—”

 

“You are not my keeper, Mr. Gibson.”

 

He studied her for a too-long moment, sending warmth up her cheeks. She would not look away. She would not give him the satisfaction.

 

“I’ll ask you to sleep on it, and we’ll talk again at breakfast.” He reached one long finger up and swept a lock of hair behind her ear.

 

His touch jolted her, too delicate for the man. She could feel her breath rising and falling like a bellows-blown fire, all deliciously lit up within her, with a promise of something she couldn’t fathom.

 

 

Christmas in July Fete Sackful of Giveaways:

 

Grand Prize: $75 USD Amazon Gift Card

Winner’s choice of an e-copy of one of Alina K. Field’s Christmas novellas, Rosalyn’s Ring (only available in Kindle) or The Marquess and the Midwife.

(plus more prizes…)

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/92db77506/?

Open Internationally

Starts July 1, 2017 12:01 am EST and ends August 1, 2017 12:00 am EST

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071D52388

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-bastard-s-iberian-bride

iTunes: https://itun.es/i6759FF

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-bastards-iberian-bride-alina-k-field/1126282774?ean=2940157193805

 

Author’s Favorite Holiday Food/Tradition:

I love many holiday traditions, but my favorite is gathering around the table with family for a special Christmas Day meal. Usually, it’s roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy, but last year we did a full brunch: ham, Belgian waffles, mini-frittatas, fruit salad, and champagne. That may be our new tradition!

 

AlinaKField head shot

 

Author Biography:

Award winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but her true passion is the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares a midcentury home with her husband, her spunky, blonde, rescued terrier, and the blue-eyed cat who conned his way in for dinner one day and decided the food was too good to leave.

 

She is the author of the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring, a 2015 RONE Award finalist, Bella’s Band, and a 2016 National Reader’s Choice Award finalist, Liliana’s Letter, as well as her latest release, The Marquess and the Midwife. She is hard at work on her next series of Regency romances, but loves to hear from readers!

 

Social Media Links:

http://alinakfield.com/

https://www.facebook.com/alinakfield

https://twitter.com/AlinaKField

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7173518.Alina_K_Field

https://www.pinterest.com/alinakf/

https://www.instagram.com/alinak.field/

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/alina-k-field

 

“Defender of the realm and his heart” Only A Hero Will Do by @alannalucas27 #bookreview #historicalromance


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Title: Only a Hero Will Do (The Heart of a Hero Book 2)

Author: Alanna Lucas

Genre: Historical Romance – Regency, Fantasy, Superheroes

 

Book Blurb:

Defender of the realm…and his wary heart…

 

Captain Grant Alexander is an enigma in London society. Dashing and handsome, he coldly eschews marriage. But the ton knows nothing of his role in the Legion: to bring Typhon, the traitor who seeks to destroy the British monarchy, to justice.

 

When Grant is thrown together with fellow Legion member Elizabeth Atwell, he’s instantly beguiled yet exasperated by this beautiful viscount’s daughter. She has little interest in combing the marriage mart for a well-bred, well-heeled husband, but is adept at code-breaking and handling a bow and arrow. She also refuses to do as she is told, insisting she accompany Grant on his mission.

 

As Typhon continues to evade capture and dark forces are at work, Grant realizes he must act, not only to protect the realm but Elizabeth too…not to mention his heart, which is in danger of thawing every time she comes close…

 

My Review:

Lady Elizabeth Atwell is well known among the Ton for her beauty and yet she hides a secret: she’s a member of the Legion, England’s spy network, and has a gift for code-breaking. She’s quick with a bow and arrow, not to mention helps bring down traitors who wish to bring down the British monarchy. She’s independent and doesn’t take no for an answer as Captain Grant soon realizes.

 

Captain Grant Alexander is a dashing, mysterious man who refuses to be tied down. Many women have paraded in front of him yet none have captured his attention. That is, until he meets Lady Elizabeth. A viscount’s daughter and a fellow member of the Legion, Grant knows she’s hands-off. Yet his heart refuses to listen to that and surges ahead. He tries to protect her yet she goes off on her own, thrusting head-first into danger. They bicker and spar which riles Grant’s anger as well as his passion. Can he keep his hands off of her or is she his matched partner, both in life and love?

 

I loved this book so much! It’s classic historical regency romance (which is one of my favorite genres) with spy/superhero undertones. Filled with plenty of action and intrigue, Only A Hero Will Do sweeps the reader away. The chemistry between Elizabeth and Grant is off the charts which propelled the plot into the stratosphere. Extremely well-written and I read it in two sittings. Lucas has an amazing gift for plunging the reader into the past through intricate details (clothes, circumstances, historical people, modes of transportation, societal manners, etc.) that is unmatched.

 

This is book two of a delightful series where each author reimagines their favorite superhero in Regency England. I won’t tell you who Lucas chose but the clues are woven in the story. I can’t wait to read more in this original series.

 

Favorite Character/Quote: Elizabeth. She’s a viscount’s daughter, not a care in the world, yet she loves working for the Legion. She has a gift for spying and decoding puzzles and messages. She’s got strength in spades and I was totally rooting for her throughout the story. Sure, she can handle herself but at the end of the day, she pines (like the rest of us) for a hero, her hero. A great role model for women.

 

My Rating:  5+ stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Only-Hero-Will-Heart-Book-ebook/dp/B071LS5KSB

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Only-Hero-Will-Heart-Book-ebook/dp/B071LS5KSB

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Only-Hero-Will-Heart-Book-ebook/dp/B071LS5KSB

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35274562-only-a-hero-will-do

 

Alanna Lucas

 

Author Biography:

Alanna Lucas grew up in Southern California, but always dreamed of distant lands and bygone eras. From an early age she took interest in art, history, and travel, and enjoys incorporating those diversions into her writing. However, she believes that true love is the greatest source of inspiration and is always an adventure.

 

Alanna makes her home in California where she spends her time writing historical romances, dreaming of her next travel destination, spending time with family, and staying up too late indulging in her favourite past time, reading.

 

Social Media Links:

www.alannalucas.com

 

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAlannaLucas/

 

https://twitter.com/alannalucas27

 

Author Page on Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Alanna-Lucas/e/B00HPC0MYU

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

 

#ChristmasInJuly Fete: Christmas Revels II by @LouisaCornell et. al #romance #books #giveaway


Christmas in July Book Square - CRII

 

Title: Christmas Revels II: Four Regency Novellas

 

Author: Hannah Meredith, Anna D. Allen, Louisa Cornell, & Kate Parker

 

Genre: Historical Romance

 

Book Blurb:

Let the Revels begin-again! Four new stories with four distinctive voices:

The Vicar’s Christmas – Margaret Trent never needs anything or anyone, but when two London solicitors show up on her doorstep, she needs a hero. Enter Henry Ogden, mild-mannered village vicar. Hardly the stuff of heroes… until adversity brings out unexpected talents.

A Christmas Equation – A chance meeting between a reluctant viscount and a self-effacing companion revives memories of their shared past-a time when they were very different people. With secrets to keep, Sarah Clendenin wishes Benjamin Radcliff gone… but he’s making calculations of his own.

Crimson Snow – A trail of blood drops leads Jane Merrywether to a wounded stranger-the only person standing in the way of her wicked guardian becoming an earl. John Rexford, long-thought dead, has returned to claim his inheritance and his promised bride… if he can survive a murderous Christmas.

A Perfectly Unregimented Christmas – After years at war, Viscount Pennyworth returns to his ancestral home to find some peace and quiet and to avoid the holiday he loathes. But four naughty boys, a bonnet-wearing goat, a one-eyed cat, a family secret, and one Annabelle Winters, governess, make this a Christmas he’ll never forget.

 

 

Christmas in July Fete Sackful of Giveaways:

 

Grand Prize: $75 USD Amazon Gift Card

2 e-copies of Christmas Revels

(plus more prizes…)

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/92db77506/?

Open Internationally

Starts July 1, 2017 12:01 am EST and ends August 1, 2017 12:00 am EST

 

Buy Links:   

Amazon – http://a.co/4ogrKbC

Apple iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency/id1047951334?mt=11

Barns and Nobles – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/christmas-revels-ii-hannah-meredith/1122771468?ean=9781942470007

Kobo – https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency-novellas

Print – https://www.createspace.com/5739761

 

 

Authors’ Favorite Holiday Food/Tradition:

Hannah – I love to decorate for Christmas. I admit I go crazy with greens and bows. Outside there are wreathes – one 4 ft., one 3 ft., one 2 ft., and two 18 inches – all with bows.  I also put up eleven window sprays (with bows) and put sprays (and bows) on the mailbox. Inside—well, I go crazier. Fortunately, we have a big old house that fits my insanity.

 

Anna – Our bizarre Christmas Eve dinner is the only meal we really have with “once a year” foods. I call it a Scandinavian Feast of the Seven Fishes. We have oyster stew–which I don’t care for– and then all these canapés and appetizer-like dishes. There are caviar canapés, and lox, and smoked oysters, and pickled herring, and crab salad, and hot crab spread, and shrimp in butter, and lots of bread and more bread. And we always eat it all much too fast! Then we remind ourselves “ah, but there’s still dessert.”

 

Louisa – My favorite decoration is my small desktop Christmas tree that has shoe ornaments on it. Only shoe ornaments, mostly of Regency or Victorian era shoes, but some stiletto and other contemporary shoes too. And a tiny pair of ruby slippers at the top.

 

Kate – I love watching the Christmas musical programs on TV. Kings College Oxford, National Cathedral, anywhere there is a good choir and a pipe organ or orchestra. A cappella madrigal singing is also a treat at Christmastime.

 

Revellers 4

 

Authors Biographies:

Hannah Meredith is, above all, a storyteller. She’s long been fascinated by the dreams that haunt the human heart and has an abiding interest in English history. This combination led her to write historical romance. Hannah is a member of RWA and Heart of Carolina Romance Writers.

 

Anna D. Allen lives deep in the woods with too many books and not enough dogs. She holds a Bachelor of Science and a Master of Arts in Language and Literature. Her future plans include growing tomatoes and cleaning out the freezer. When not writing or reading, she can be found in the kitchen.

 

Louisa Cornell is a retired opera singer living in LA (Lower Alabama) who cannot remember a time she wasn’t writing or telling stories. Anglophile, student of Regency England, historical romance writer— she escaped Walmart to write historical romance and hasn’t looked back. She is a member of RWA, Southern Magic RWA, and the Beau Monde Chapter of RWA.

 

Kate Parker grew up reading her mother’s collection of mystery books by Christie, Sayers, and others. Now she can’t write a story without someone being murdered, and everyday items are studied for their lethal potential. It’s taken her years to convince her husband that she hasn’t poisoned dinner; that funny taste is because she just can’t cook.

 

 

Social Media Links:

Hannah – http://www.hannahmeredith.com

https://www.facebook.com/HannahMeredithAuthor

 

Anna – http://beket1.wix.com/annadallen

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anna-D-Allen/366546213501993

 

Louisa – http://onelondonone.blogspot.com/

http://www.louisacornell.com/

https://twitter.com/LouisaCornell

https://www.facebook.com/RegencyWriterLouisaCornell

https://www.facebook.com/louisa.cornell

https://www.pinterest.com/louisacornell/

 

Kate – http://www.KateParkerbooks.com

https://www.facebook.com/Author.Kate.Parker/

#TuesdayBookBlog – The Captain and the Countess by @writerinagarret #bookreview


Morris-CaptainCountess-PRINTCOVER

 

Title: The Captain and the Countess

Author: Rosemary Morris

Genre: Historical Romance

 

Book Blurb:

London. 1706

 

Why does heart-rending pain lurk in the back of the wealthy Countess of Sinclair’s eyes?

 

Captain Howard’s life changes forever from the moment he meets Kate, the intriguing Countess and resolves to banish her pain.

 

Although the air sizzles when widowed Kate, victim of an abusive marriage meets Edward Howard, a captain in Queen Anne’s navy, she has no intention of ever marrying again.

 

However, when Kate becomes better acquainted with the Captain she realises he is the only man who understands her grief and can help her to untangle her past, and help her regain that which should be hers by right.

 

My Review:

From the moment Captain Edward Howard lays eyes on Kate, Countess of Sinclair, he realizes he must do everything in his power to make her happy. There’s pain behind Kate’s façade and he’s determined to help her in any way he can.

 

Kate likes Captain Howard immediately, even when he’s forward with her and seems to disregard propriety in search of the truth. The attraction scares her and she guards her heart against the young Captain’s desire. Her past comes calling and she must choose between what her heart wants and what society expects of her. Will she and Edward have a future or will her past continue to haunt her?

 

This is the first book I’ve read from Morris and I really enjoyed it. Morris is a historian at heart and it shows in her writing. I kept pinching myself, to make sure I wasn’t in 18th century England. Every detail, from English customs to costume and speech was historically accurate. The dialogue was spot-on and I found myself caught up in the emotional tension between the characters.

 

If you’re a fan of historical romance (especially Pre-Regency), you’re in for a treat with The Captain and the Countess. The writing style of Rosemary Morris is reminiscent of Edith Wharton (The Age of Innocence) and I look forward to reading more from her.

 

Favorite Character:

Kate. I loved everything about her, from the way she carried herself in society to the way she cared for her children to the way she fell in love with Edward. She’s a victim of an abusive husband yet that didn’t stop her from living life to the fullest. A woman after my own heart.

 

Favorite Quote:

“She was a lady without comparison, beautiful, mysterious, and vivacious. After he dined, he would take the air in Hyde Park in the hope of encountering her.”

 

My Rating:  4.5 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Captain-Countess-Rosemary-Morris-ebook/dp/B01FCENLKE

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=B01FCENLKE

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30183728-the-captain-and-the-countess

 

Rosemary Morris - Small photo

 

Author Biography:

There is a gigantic canvas for a historical novelist to choose from.

 

I am a multi-published historical novelist whose novels are set in the reign of Charles II’s niece, Queen Anne Stuart, who reigned from 1702 to 1714, and the ever popular Regency era. I have also written a mediaeval novel set in in the reign of Edward II.

 

I chose those periods because each of them affected the course of history. If the Duke of Marlborough had not won The War of Spanish Succession, and The Duke of Wellington had been defeated by Napoleon at The Battle of Waterloo, the history of Britain and that of Europe would be different. Defeat would also have had far-reaching consequences for the rest of the world. If Edward II had won the Battle of Bannockburn, it is feasible that he would have conquered Scotland and, perhaps, as it is claimed, he would not have been murdered.

 

The more I read about my chosen eras the more fascinated I become, and the more aware of the gulf between the past and present. Those who lived in the past shared the same emotions as we do, but their attitudes and way of life were in many ways very different to ours. One of the most striking examples was the social position of women and children in in bygone ages.

 

My characters, are of their time, not men, women and children dressed in costume who behave like 21st century people.

Research of my chosen eras sparks my imagination. The seeds of my novels are sown, and from them sprout the characters and events which will shape their lives.

 

I was born in Kent. As a child, when I was not making up stories, my head was ‘always in a book.’

 

While working in a travel agency, I met my Hindu husband. He encouraged me to continue my education at Westminster College. In 1961 I and my husband, by then a barrister, moved to his birthplace, Kenya, where I lived from 1961 until 1982. After an attempted coup d’état, four of my children lived with me in an ashram in France.

 

Back in England, I wrote historical fiction, joined the Romantic Novelists’ Association, The Historical Novel Society, Watford Writers and on line groups.

 

Apart from writing, I enjoy classical Indian literature, reading, visiting places of historical interest, vegetarian cooking, growing organic fruit, herbs and vegetables and creative crafts.

 

My bookshelves are so crammed with historical non-fiction, which I use to research my novels, that if I buy a new book I have to consider getting rid of one.

 

Time spent with my five children and their families, most of whom live near me, is precious.

 

The second editions of my historical novels and my new ones will be published by Books We Love. http://bookswelove.net

 

Social Media Links:

Website www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

Blog http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com

Twitter https://twitter.com/writerinagarret

Facebook http://facebook.com/rosemary.morris.526/about

Publisher http://bookswelove.net/authors/morris-rosemary/

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

Waltzing With the Earl by @AlannaLucas27 Swept Mrs. N Away #BookReview #HistoricalRomance


Waltzing with the Earl

 

Title: Waltzing With the Earl

Author: Alanna Lucas

Genre: Historical Romance

 

Book Blurb:

Believing he is cursed, Tristram, Lord Trevena, the Earl of Longstone, agrees to do just one favor for a friend, to dance with the man’s sister, but the beautiful and headstrong Isabel Albryght will settle for no less than claiming his lonely heart.

 

A PROPHECY FORETOLD

 

Raised by her doting older brother, Isabel Albryght grew up cosseted and protected. She enjoyed her life in the country, her books, and her freedom. Then her brother married. Within months Isabel’s best friend married. It seemed it was time for Isabel to marry, too. Socially awkward and a bit too keen for most of the ton, Isabel proceeded to have the most horrible season on record…until she was approached by Tristram, the Earl of Longstone.

 

Two dances. That was all Tristram could offer anyone when considering his family curse, which had taken all he loved in the last ten years, so his promise to the beautiful Miss Albryght’s brother was simply that. The ton would soon see she was a desirable partner, her awkwardness would fade and other young swains would beat feet to her doorstep. But then he held her in his arms, and the delightful Isabel became his beating heart. Headstrong and full of passion, she believed she might waltz them away from Death. She alone could tempt him to try.

 

My Review:

Isabel Albryght would rather be surrounded by her books in the country than participate in the season. But she made a promise to her elder brother and so she attends one party/ball after another. Her nervousness causes unfortunate accidents that the ton won’t let her forget. She’s appalled and humiliated, her confidence slipping away.

 

On a whim, Isabel’s brother asks his old friend, Tristram, Lord Trevena, the Earl of Longstone, for a favor. Just two dances, he begs, and Tristram reluctantly agrees. Tristram’s only in town for a short period of time and then it’s back to the country. The last thing he needs is to become entangled with a young woman and activating the dreaded family curse.

 

Tristram and Isabel dance together at the very next ball and sparks fly. Will Tristram let Isabel into his heart, the family curse ignored, or will he sacrifice his own happiness to save the life of the one woman who sweeps him off his feet?

 

This is my first book by Alanna Lucas and let me tell you, I can’t wait to read more! Lucas weaves such a gorgeous historical romance filled with descriptive imagery of Regency England. The characters were such fun and I enjoyed the way they interacted with Isabel and Tristram.

 

Note: this is part of a series (In His Arms) but you can read it as a standalone. Lucas does an impressive job filling in the gaps for new readers to her series and I plan to read the rest of the series.

 

Waltzing with the Earl is one of those swoon-worthy historical romances that melts my heart and the conflict (family curse) added the right amount of drama. Like Isabel, Tristram swept me off my feet and I wanted to dance with him long after I finished reading. A must read!

 

Favorite Character: Isabel. I loved everything about her from her insecurities to her love of books. She’s a bluestocking, through and through, and I must admit she reminds me of myself. She’d much rather be surrounded by books out in the country than attend yet another ball. I also loved the way she spoke her mind to Tristan, especially when he hurts her deeply.

 

Favorite Quote:

“It did not matter what he did, nor how far he rode – his thoughts always strayed back to Isabel. He feared they always would.”

 

My Rating:  5+ stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01BH1F7AS

 

ARe  https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-waltzingwiththeearl-1975672-148.html

 

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/612872

 

 

Publisher http://boroughspublishinggroup.com/books/waltzing-earl

 

Alanna Lucas

 

Author Biography:

Alanna Lucas grew up in Southern California, but always dreamed of distant lands and bygone eras. From an early age she took interest in art, history, and travel, and enjoys incorporating those diversions into her writing. However, she believes that true love is the greatest source of inspiration and is always an adventure.

 

 

Alanna makes her home in California where she spends her time writing historical romances, dreaming of her next travel destination, spending time with family, and staying up too late indulging in her favorite past time, reading.

 

Social Media Links:

Website www.alannalucas.com

 

 

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/alannalucas27

 

 

Twitter https://twitter.com/alannalucas27

 

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

Who is He? by Gwendoline Ewins #MFRWAuthor #BookReview #RegencyRomance


Who Is He - EBOOK

Title: Who is He?

Author: Gwendoline Ewins

Genre: Regency Romance, Sensual, intended for 17+ readers

 

Book Blurb:

1803, London

“I have a cabin booked on the ‘Cambray’ bound for the Southern Seas,” he announces mere hours before they are to be joined as one in the sight of God and Mama and Papa and her very best friend Deborah.

Hester had fallen in love with him at first sight, before she knew his true character. Now his ridiculous prank has forced them into a marriage neither wants. Worse, he intends to set sail immediately after the ceremony leaving her to endure – alone – the pity of so-called friends. Not likely!

Luke warns her the voyage will be long and arduous but she insists on sailing with him. She is green and vomiting before they even board the ship but will not be deterred. All he can do is ensure she constantly drink to replenish the loss of liquid and wrap her in blankets against the cold air.

Yet against all odds they become friends on the ship and when they set up home in Tahiti. Their friendship deepens in a culture far different than they had known, and over the years becomes abiding love as they experience more joy than either had thought possible, more grief than either could bear alone.

 

My Review:

The year is 1803 in London and in a weird twist of fate, Luke and Hestor are married without even knowing each other. He’s leaving for the Islands in a fortnight and gives Hestor a choice: she can stay in London or come with him on the ship destined for the Southern Seas. Secretly, Hestor has always wanted to travel and this is her opportunity.

Luke and Hestor board the ship as strangers and in the end become lovers and dear friends. Through every trial (by water and land), they become stronger and so does their love.

I enjoyed reading this romance. The author takes the reader on an incredible journey and the characters are complex yet appealing. The way she describes the islands of the Southern Seas, like a true lover of the Tropics, is intoxicating and makes for a good story.

About 60% of the way through the story, though, everything changes. Suddenly, we’re no longer in a romance but in the realities of being missionaries in the 19th century. Life is hard and there are people murdered for no reason whatsoever. I found this part of the story jarring and the author never quite returned to the romance part.

All in all, a good way to escape to the Southern Seas for a lover of regency romance. I am hoping the next book in the series will be better.

 

Favorite Character:

Luke. Normally, I gravitate towards the female in historical romances but Luke is written with such a realistic flair that I couldn’t help but smile every time I read in his POV. He’s as endearing to me as the landscape the author describes.

 

My Rating: 3.5 stars

 

Buy it now: http://amzn.com/B00ATJ5U4I

 

gwendoline-ewins-450

Author Biography:

I grew up in the east end of London and then went where my husband’s work took him. We spent almost a decade in Polynesia before coming to live in New Zealand. “Our” small island was surrounded by never-ending sea and first inhabited years ago as Polynesians left “Havaiiki” in search of something better or simply different. They travelled on fragile trimarans should have sunk but survived the long voyage and they eventually found strings of glorious islands and atolls rising out of the sea.

 

Our travelling was easier. We flew from London to Fiji then sailed on over a spectacular Pacific Ocean. Our two small children vomited all the way and I vowed I would never move again: wherever we landeed we’d stay forever, I told myself and anyone else prepared to listen. But we arrived and were welcomed generously with a feast of food I’d only read about followed by singing and dancing and hand movements of extraordinary beauty.

 

I discovered for myself Polynesians were courageous people, intelligent and beautiful with a lusty appreciation of the physical and a very different set of values to those I knew and accepted as did the teachers, plumbers, nurses and doctors who were part of our expatriate community. Beliefs about sensuality and promiscuity were miles apart. Polynesians knew how to grieve and to experience joy, they took it for granted everything was to be shared whereas “sharing” was tantamount to theft to the Europeans. Put simply, Polynesians thought this was right and this was wrong and Europeans often thought the opposite. I had to learn that values were often simply (and painfully!) different, and accept a generosity that at times was overwhelming. For example one of the busiest women I’ve ever met was the pastor’s wife. A lot was expected of her from the villagers, she had a large family to care for yet at sunset found time to sit with me on her balcony and give me language lessons.

 

Eight years later my husband was offered work in New Zealand and it felt right to move on. Our children went to high school and I went back to work. Then a new chapter in my life began: a good friend enrolled at university and I followed her.

 

Some years later our daughter and children moved to Christchurch. I couldn’t get my practice going in a different city. I remembered a strange dream I had and decided I’d write a book. I didn’t know how difficult that would be! I didn’t give up, and I’m pleased about that.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.gwendoline-ewins.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6561693.Gwendoline_Ewins

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

The Passion of a Marquess by @LindaRaeSa #RegencyRomance #MFRWAuthor #bookpromo


marquess cover.indd

Title: THE PASSION OF A MARQUESS

Author: Linda Rae Sande

Genre: Regency Romance

Book Blurb:

After four Seasons and no prospects, Lady Samantha is resigned to spinsterhood. Her aunt, Viscountess Chamberlain, insists they sail to Italy to find a marriage-minded European aristocrat.

His mines having suffered a multitude of disasters, Ethan Range, Marquess of Plymouth, needs to secure an Italian invention to help alleviate fires. He’s none too happy to find Lady Chamberlain traveling on the same ship. He knows her secret and is incensed she’s able to hide Samantha’s true past from the ton.

While on deck, the marquess confronts Samantha. Incensed by his claims, she slaps the man before a wave washes them both overboard. Forced to save each other, they end up as castaways on a deserted island. Although they face perils a plenty, they may have more to fear from one another than from hunger, weather, and pirates. Can they realize the mistakes of the past are not their own?

Excerpt:

“We need to get below deck,” Lord Plymouth announced suddenly, tearing his gaze from whatever had him spellbound only the moment before.

“What is it?” Samantha asked again as she continued to stare to the west. The ship lifted again, this time higher, so that the main mast wavered above them. She had to take a step to the right to keep her balance, even though the marquess had taken her upper arm in a grip that would surely leave a bruise.

The sky to the west lit up with blue-white intensity as a lightning bolt seemed to strike the ocean.

Struggling to keep her balance as she made it to the companionway, Samantha was about to descend when a wave crashed over the rail and sent seawater washing over the deck. Several barrels suddenly lost their footing as the water lifted them and sent some over the side of the ship. When the wave of water hit the wheelhouse, it rolled back over the deck, grabbing Samantha and nearly upending her. Seawater poured down the companionway as the ship suddenly tilted.

Lord Plymouth kept his hold on Samantha, jerking her away from the stairs just as the water would have caught her and probably sent her head-first through the opening.

“Hang on!” he managed to get out as he gripped a railing.

Samantha reached for anything to grab onto, one gloved hand grasping the marquess’ lapel while the other tried to hang onto the railing.

“Christ!”

The curse had Samantha following the Lord Plymouth’s startled gaze.

Damnation!

 

Although she was fairly sure she didn’t put voice to her own curse, Samantha Fitzsimmons would remember it for all the days of her life. For directly in front of them, a wave of monumental proportions descended on the ship. The roar was deafening. The impact of the water was far more than her tenuous grip on the railing could withstand. Within a fraction of a second, she was forced to let go and move her hand to the only body she could hang onto.

That of the Marquess of Plymouth.

In the cold, black, swirling water in which she suddenly found herself, Samantha was forced to hold her breath and hang on for dear life. Years of spending summers in the Isis River had her kicking with all her might, her half-boots fighting the water’s drag on her skirts, on her petticoats, on her lungs as she struggled not to take the breath she desperately needed to take.

Just when she was quite sure her lungs were about to explode, her head cleared the top of the water and she gulped air. And just as quickly, she was below the surface again. Her entire body seemed to go numb all at once, the cold water permeating her very being. The desire to simply let go and allow the water to take her down was almost more than she could fight.

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RUQEKGW

B&N: http://tinyurl.com/nsz7ayf

All Romance e-books: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thepassionofamarquess-1719144-160.html

Google Play: http://tinyurl.com/lu6t2xu

iTunes; https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-grace-of-a-duke/id643507750?mt=11

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-passion-of-a-marquess

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/508163

LindaRaeSande2074author_amazon

Author Biography:

A self-described nerd and lover of science, Linda Rae spent many years as a published technical writer specializing in 3D graphics workstations, software and 3D animation (her movie credits include SHREK and SHREK 2). An interest in genealogy led to years of research on the Regency era and a desire to write fiction based in that time.

A fan of action-adventure movies, she can frequently be found at the local cinema. During the winter, she hosts several junior hockey players and follows the San Jose Sharks. She makes her home in Cody, Wyoming. For more information about her books, go to her website: www.lindaraesande.com.

Links:

Website: http://www.lindaraesande.com

Twitter: @lindaraesa  https://twitter.com/lindaraesa

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/LindaRaeSandeAuthor

Blog: http://lindaraesande.wordpress.com/

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7008676.Linda_Rae_Sande

LinkedIn :href=http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=2973610

Google+: http://google.com/+LindaRaeSande

My Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/linda2612/linda-rae-sande-author/

AuthorGraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/lindaraesa

Shelfari: http://www.shelfari.com/o1514880478

Southern Seas Series by Gwendoline Ewins #romance #Regency #MFRWAuthor (17+)


Who Is He - EBOOK

Title: Who is He?

Author: Gwendoline Ewins

Series: Southern Seas

Genre: Regency Romantic Comedy, sensual, intended for 17+ readers

Book blurb: 

1803, London

“I have a cabin booked on the ‘Cambray’ bound for the Southern Seas,” he announces mere hours before they are to be joined as one in the sight of God and Mama and Papa and her very best friend Deborah.
Hester had fallen in love with him at first sight, before she knew his true character. Now his ridiculous prank has forced them into a marriage neither wants. Worse, he intends to set sail immediately after the ceremony leaving her to endure – alone – the pity of so-called friends. Not likely!
Luke warns her the voyage will be long and arduous but she insists on sailing with him. She is green and vomiting before they even board the ship but will not be deterred. All he can do is ensure she constantly drink to replenish the loss of liquid and wrap her in blankets against the cold air.
Yet against all odds they become friends on the ship and when they set up home in Tahiti. Their friendship deepens in a culture far different than they had known, and over the years becomes abiding love as they experience more joy than either had thought possible, more grief than either could bear alone.

Excerpt:

London, 1803

“Who is that man?”

“Which man?”

“The tall one – with dark hair and eyes.”

“There are lots of tall men here! Many of them have dark hair and every one of them has eyes!”

“But only one with eyes searching the room feverishly as if all will be lost if he fails to find what he is looking for.”

Miss Hester Urquhart and her best friend Lady Deborah Appleby had stopped their slow promenade around the edge of the Pilkington’s dance floor to whisper behind fans they fluttered with well-taught delicacy. It was generally agreed by the guardians of polite society that these two young ladies had risen like cream to the top of the vast quantity of milky maids in London during their very first season: their deportment was perfect, their behaviour demure, their conversation proper. And more than one eligible male had taken notice.

“Oh – that man. Mmm – he is rather handsome, is he not? He is the Wainwright heir. You know, the Earl of Darlinghurst’s cousin ninth removed or some such. The only surviving male in that illustrious family of his. Not that he has ever shown more than a passing interest in the family, except for a desultory attempt to prevent its extinction by pursuing Jane Throgmorton andher fortune. It did not work but perhaps he will have more success now he is returned from the Antipodes.”

“The Antipodes?” Luminous eyes shone with innocent radiance that might – in the right circumstances – darken with passion.

“Yes, Hester, the Antipodes, that land mass at the bottom of the world full of deserts and strange creatures. Apparently he was helping one of the darlings of the botany world collect flowers – hundreds of them. After a while that must have become most tedious -” Deborah followed her pronouncement with the bored sigh she had recently perfected.

For a brief moment Hester almost forgot Deborah as in her mind’s eye she saw the tall, dark-haired figure of Mr Wainwright with his beautiful eyes – which if she were closer to him she would surely be able to confirm were of the deepest blue, sensitive and passionate at the same time – fixed steadfastly on field after field of beautiful flowers of every conceivable hue while above him in an azure sky delicate clouds floated happily towards the horizon. “What sort of flowers is he collecting?” she breathed.

Deborah looked confused. “Is collecting? You mean was collecting, do you not? He was collecting orchids.”

“Orchids?”

“Yes – apparently orchids grow wild over all the hills around Botany Bay.”

“Deborah! How glorious that sounds and how wonderful it must be to be a man – able to leave everything behind to travel to distant places like Botany Bay and pick armfuls of real orchids.”

Deborah giggled and almost lost the ennui she was trying so hard to perfect. “Unfortunately setting foot on Botany Bay requires a voyage of several months across the oceans of the world, tossing and turning on a narrow cot in a tiny cabin – and regularly losing the contents of your stomach on the floor. I must tell you now, Hester, I am sorry. I cannot find it in my heart to accompany you. You will simply have to find a man who has the wanderlust and travel with him to paradise. I promise faithfully to answer your letters.”

“I think I may have found him.”

Deborah’s fan stopped fluttering as she followed the direction of Hester’s eyes. “Hester – please think carefully before you do anything!” For all her attempted sophistication Lady Deborah was at heart the more compliant of the two. She was also kind-hearted and protective of her far more adventurous friend. “We are no longer children. We have made our come-out. This is not the time for pranks and devil-may-care schemes.”

Hester scarcely heard. Her attention was fixed on Luke Wainwright, who in turn appeared transfixed by one of the dancers who had come to a halt in front of him. “Jane Throgmorton,” Deborah whispered and Hester studied the heiress from behind her fan.

Miss Throgmorton was a most attractive young lady. Her hair fell in perfect golden ringlets over perfect shoulders revealed by an exquisite – if extraordinarily low-cut – gown of palest lemon. Hester could well understand any man, let alone a man who had spent the past years collecting orchids from the hills around Botany Bay, being overwhelmed by such beauty. However more than beauty was needed to make a man happy, she decided. Among her friends Hester had a fine reputation of reading character. It took but an instant to read Miss Throgmorton’s and pronounce judgment.

“He is making a terrible mistake,” Hester said briskly. “Miss Throgmorton may be lovely to look at but she could never make him happy.”

Deborah accepted the verdict without question. Hester was rarely wrong. “Well, we do not need to worry ourselves about Miss Throgmorton and Mr Wainwright because she has allowed herself to fall for the fortune and dubious charms of that elderly libertine Lord Frankton -”

“Poor Mr Wainwright,” Hester sighed. “He has been out of society and free from the wiles of devious women for years. I think we – you and I, Deborah, should prepare a plan to protect him from Miss Throgmorton.”

Buy linkhttp://amzn.com/B00ATJ5U4I

Drums - WEB

Title: Drums
Book blurb: 

1825, Polynesia.

Amelia Yorke is a destitute teacher with a petunia in a flower pot outside her dingy cottage in Sydneytown. Guy Richmond is a botanist seeking orchids in the rainforest and heir to vast lands in New South Wales. Each has experienced tragedy.
They are from different worlds and should never have met, yet come together on the deck of a sailing ship overlooking a spectacular tropical lagoon.
Drums on the beach threaten and a man desperately paddles for freedom: a man Amelia has never met but agreed to marry. A man Guy loathes.

Excerpt:

1825, Sydneytown 

By the time Amelia Yorke unlatched the tiny window her armpits were soaked in perspiration and she knew something was wrong.

The cottage was stifling and too quiet – the only sound was the whine of flies competing for crumbs of bread scattered over the table. There was no sign of a sodden Mama in crumpled clothes, hair wildly askew, just a sad empty gin bottle on the floor.

Amelia spun around, searching the cramped living space and even smaller scullery beyond as if Mama might magically materialize on the broken sofa. Or on one of the two wooden chairs. Or under the table.

“Where are you, Mama? Are you all right?” she worried aloud before noticing a thin strip of light around the back door. Rushing toward it she pushed the door wide open.

And groaned.

All-too visible was a figure collapsed in front of the privy in a puddle of vomit and worse. One arm was thrown over head, thighs were revealed in a flagrant disarray of bared flesh, mouth agape and doubtless emitting a ghastly procession of snorts and sniffs and snores.

Mama.

Bile filled Amelia’s mouth as the horror of it all flooded her eyes with tears because it hadn’t always been like this. There had been a time when Mama was happy, when the two of them picked daisies from a much bigger garden and made garlands for their hair. A time before Papa died and Mama found respite from grief in a gin bottle.

Amelia’s eyelids squeezed shut. She longed to stay behind them forever. She wanted to let her thoughts wander to a place where they became dreams – but it was more and more difficult to allow thoughts to wander, and almost impossible to dream. Money was tight and made tighter by Mama’s uncanny ability to find any cache set aside for necessities while time passed pitilessly – in a month it would once again be her birthday, one dreary year giving way to another just as dreary, two-and-thirty giving way to three-and-thirty, another line on her face, less flesh on her bones, less life in the brown eyes that had once been described as “fine”.

Smothering another groan she ran to Mama’s side, dropped to her knees and began to rub her hands. They were oddly stiff and cold on this too hot a day.

“Mama, wake up,” she urged. There was no response.

She tried to lift the comatose body and failed. “You have to help me, Mama. I can’t lift you by myself.”

“Let me help you, Miss Yorke.” Duncan Blowes – his ever increasing impudence was becoming worrisome, his constant scrutiny distasteful. She shivered at the thought of his watery eyes watching her return from the schoolhouse, and of him following her into the cottage and out of the back door to the patch of grass they called a garden. Now she felt his eyes leering down at her, no doubt hoping to glimpse some private part of her body revealed as she tended Mama.

A quick glance along the long line of cottages confirmed no one else was around. His hand was the only one available. Unease must be swallowed.

“Thank you, Mr Blowes.” Amelia forced the words through a tight throat. “Can you help me carry Mama into the cottage? She has had one of her turns.”

He smirked in triumph. “Willingly, my dear. I’m only too happy to help a sweet young lady like you. Your mama’s health must be of constant concern to you.”

Fussing over Mama’s skirts provided an excuse to ignore his comments. Amelia moved to take the weight of the lower now fetid part of Mama’s body while Blowes positioned himself to take her shoulders.

But instead of lifting Mama he gave a long low whistle.

Amelia jerked up her head.

“She’s gone,” he said.

“Gone?”

“She’s dead.”

1825, Polynesia

 

The time for feasting was over. Huge amounts of food had been consumed or spirited away in banana leaves, now the drums primed the guests for the appearance of dancers.

Guy Richmond was quickly aware of the dancers’ erotic spell, summoning a wry smile even as he fidgeted to ease the tightness of his crotch.

Grass skirts hung temptingly low on hips, swaying gently to reveal long legs and tight buttocks. Hips swivelled to the tempo of the drums. Navels demanded attention. Breasts were exposed in a glorious assortment of shapes and sizes to fit the dream of any man. Arms were adorned with sweet-smelling gardenia.

Guy shared a good-natured grin with a young Adonis who had been eyeing a particular fifine with lascivious intent. Sialosi had befriended Guy from the first and probably dreamed of accompanying him when he finally packed up his botanical specimens and moved on.

The grin faded as Guy’s glance rested on another man close by, equally honoured by being seated on a woven mat not far from the chief – and similarly aroused if the contortions of his face were anything to go by. Guy had taken the Reverend Jeremiah Howard in dislike during their first brief interchange, instinctively distrusting him regardless of his showy humility and earnest manners.

The tempo of the drums quickened and the new bride stepped out of the shadows into dazzling sun.

Buy link: http://amzn.com/B00EDZDV0E

Perfect Wife For Peregrine Winthrop - WEB

 

Title: A Perfect Wife for Peregrine Winthrop

Book Blurb:  

1857, Little Chormsby in the South of England, Peregrine’s wedding night is a nightmare. He discovers how very foolish he was to rely on others to find him the perfect helpmate to accompany him across the world. Those others will not have to live with her or sleep with her. He will.
As years pass his worst fears are realised. His marriage is bleak. Colour and passion surround him in Polynesia though there is none in his marriage. No joy. No companionship. He is sustained by his work alone.
Until fate intervenes.

Excerpt:

1857 Little Chormsby, in the south of England

My very new wife bids her father good night but says nothing to me. She simply leaves the room and pads along the hall and then up some stairs until her footsteps fade away and all is quiet.

I’m not sure where she has gone, or if I should follow.

I remain where I am, in the silence and gathering gloom. I almost wish my new father-in-law would say something but, as is well-known, he has no small talk – just a booming voice to preach from the pulpit or other places where people collect together.

The silence is so loud it hurts my ears.

My chair gets harder, making it difficult for me not to squirm, and my hands are awkward. They clasp. Then unclasp. And clasp again.

The room darkens but the Crombies are frugal and no candle will be lit until it is impossible to see beyond the distance of a hand.

Shall I stay where I am or do as my wife did – go out of the door and up a flight of stairs to an upper floor? My blood rushes madly hither and thither through my veins, frantically seeking the answer to my dilemma.

Then Reverend Obadiah Crombie’s angular form rises out of his special chair that no one else would ever dare sit in and comes to loom over me. I try to smile in the friendly – but not too friendly – manner incumbent upon a son-in-law of some four hours. And wait.

“Until you sail you will share Marianna’s room,” he intones eventually, as if conducting the last rites rather than proposing that I sleep with his daughter – lie alongside her, skin touching, bodies joined as we consummate our marriage.

Before this moment the thought of sharing a bed, or my body, with Marianna had never occurred to me. Incredible. The closest to thinking of her in amorous terms had been to delight in her name: Marianna. Such a pretty name to have rolling around my mouth and under my tongue – like a luscious strawberry ready to be nibbled with my teeth until my mouth overflows with juice. Thus Reverend Crombie’s suggestion – or command – that I share Marianna’s bed tonight and tomorrow night brings me no joy, and the prospect of uniting my body with hers is … incomprehensible.

I feel almost dead inside, as if my heart is trying to hide, ashamed because of the dreadful mistake I have made and unwilling to forgive me because I have only myself to blame.

And my heart is right.

I should have chosen my own wife myself, not left it to others wiser than me.

“Marianna Crombie is the perfect wife for you, the perfect helpmeet,” some told me. “A little older than you,” others said, “but that’s no great fault. She’s a good Christian woman, hardworking, zealous.”

But none of those wise people will have to live with her. Sleep with her.

They should have known better – as should I.

Mama alone had remained silent – but then she wants more than the perfect helpmeet for me. Mama wants me to know bliss. She is constantly affirming me, hugging me, showering me with huge smacking kisses, with her love streaming out of sparkling eyes the same shade of blue as my own.

I should have taken note of Mama’s silence and looked into her eyes. They would have told me the truth.

My only excuse is that my head was full to the brim with the thought of sailing ships and beautiful tropical islands and preparing myself to bring joy to benighted men and women oppressed by Satan. That meant there was no room for much else, and none for pondering the frequent sharpness of Marianna Crombie’s tone or the tightness taking up permanent residence on her face.

I’m pondering now.

Trapped by a bleak father-in-law in a bleak manse, my only escape is to join an equally bleak wife and honor the vow made mere hours ago:“With my body I thee worship”.

Quite simply, even though she is the perfect wife for someone like me, I find it impossible to connect that vow with Marianna. We have never held hands, let alone kissed – had I attempted such intimacies she would quite properly have rejected me. But I made no such attempt and felt no desire to do so, despite witnessing time and again my friend Jacob Hasselthwaite and now-rounded Rebecca exchanging loving glances and touching one another even in the company of others.

I feel none of Jacob’s obvious longing to share his body with Rebecca – and that bodes ill.

The door of her room squeals in protest as I push it open. Through the gloom I catch sight of my wife on her knees beside a narrow bed. She continues to pray without registering my presence in any way – so I remove my daytime clothing as fast as my nervous fingers will allow, haul on my nightshirt then carefully fold my clothes and put them on a wooden chair.

She is still praying when I sink onto my knees on what presumably is my side of the bed.

Prayer is impossible. I can only pretend.

After a lifetime the floorboards creak and the sheets swish as she slips between them. I remain on my knees wondering how long to wait before joining her.

When at long last I lift the covers and climb into her bed, my wife’s body is on the far side. My brave hand staggers over the sheet to reach for hers.

Straightway it is slapped for its effrontery. Suitably chastened, my hand scrambles back to my side, twitching.

Overcome with exhaustion, I eventually fall asleep, but waken before dawn with an understanding of what my marriage will be.

 

Buy Link: http://amzn.com/B00A45B1DQ

Unexpected Hero - WEB

Title:  Unexpected Hero  

Book Blurb:

The South Pacific, 1866. Their parents have been friends for years but Sebastian Churnside and Charity Trescothick have never warmed to each other. He believes she is complacent about living in her parents’ shadow. She believes him to be a cuckoo in the warm family of the seacaptain, though his inability to follow the family tradition of seafaring is because he is violently seasick at first sight of the sea.
But when Charity’s mother dies unexpectedly Sebastian is the only member of his family available. Willingly – if excruciatingly – he sails to her aid and discovers Charity is more than dutiful, just as she discovers he is more than aloof.
Meanwhile Reverend Trescothick accepts he has made a terrible mistake – he should have settled his daughter in Sydney years ago. Now it is too late. He is dying and Charity’s future is insecure. However Sebastian’s coming is a god-send. He can secure Charity’s future, he can marry her and make her a member of the fine Churnside family.
All Trescothick has to do is convince Sebastian and Charity they have a future together.
But there is little time.

Excerpt:

The Southern Seas              

September, 1866

The Southern Star glided up and over the vast ocean’s swells, sails plump under an indigo sky, while in the bowels of the ship Sebastian Churnside suffered another explosion of retching and wished he was dead.

He’d loathed every minute at sea. And every excruciatingly cheerful visit of the captain and the ship-boy who emptied his bucket.

He stuffed a ship’s biscuit into his mouth to quieten his grumbling innards.

Chewed.

Swallowed. Straightway his belly balked and a tell-tale gush of fluid flew into his mouth as the biscuit returned to punish him.

Limp, covered in sweat, the patience for which he was renowned was tested to the limit as The Southern Star pitched and turned somersaults on an ocean described by the crew as “calm” when it was anything but. With each passing hour he rued the day he’d succumbed to the pleading of his seafaring father and brothers to play Sir Galahad to the Trescothicks.

He could have helped them without leaving Sydney.

He should have helped them without leaving Sydney.

A scratch on the flimsy pretence of a door interrupted his wild imaginings. “Come in!” he barked, and gagged at the stench of greasy food.

The ship-boy stepped nervously to the foot of the cot. The plate in his hands was piled with bacon. “Are you ready for your breakfast, sir?”

Sebastian groaned.

Makatea, three days later.

 

“Let me finish, Charity, I beg you.” Desperation gave Reverend Richard Trescothick strength to grasp his daughter’s arm and shake it. “There’s so little time. I want you to leave on the ship and I need your promise you won’t marry him, no matter what happens.”

Charity patted the hand gripping her arm. “Don’t distress yourself like this, Papa. I am staying here with you and nothing you say will dissuade me. Pastor Ikiua will watch over me and Moale will stay with me until the next ship comes. As for McKenzie, I promise you nothing would persuade me to accept his proposal. Don’t forget I saw how he treated poor Mrs McKenzie. I would never put myself in her position.”

He sighed and loosened his grip, and as his eyelids drooped Charity rubbed her arm.

Moale caught her eye and nodded at the pandanus mat flap, a signal to leave, to finish her letters, to go down to the beach.

Smiling mute thanks, Charity left.

On the verandah she dropped heavily onto the chair behind the old wooden table. In front of her was the letter she had been writing to her brother ready to send on the ship. Don’t worry about me, dearest Oliver, I am well able to cope with everything here, she had written

It was a lie. She had no idea how to get through the next hour, let alone the next days.

Her straw bonnet, all frayed round the edges, waited at the end of the table. She stood up and grabbed it, tied it under her chin, lips quivering she came to a standstill.

These were the last letters the ship would ever bring Papa, the last letters he would read. The yearning to flop down and bury her head in her arms was almost impossible to resist. She put a hand on her chest while she fought and won a battle against temptation, then straightening her shoulders she stepped down from the verandah, out of the shade of the mission house into the burning sun where it was safe for tears to fall.

It was even hotter on the beach, all hazy heat and high excitement. Leis by the hundred were piled up on the sand, adding gardenia to the heady mix of coconut oil and aromas of fish and pawpaw drifting down from umu.

An old crone lifted her eyebrows in greeting and asked Fano ki fe, Misi Saliti – where are you going, Miss Charity? Charity clenched her jaw lest she answer I don’t know. I don’t know anything. But there was no time to reflect as villagers gathered around her wanting to know if Papa wasmalolo, if he had slept well, if she needed any more help.

The questions were curiously comforting, as was being with the many people who had cared for Papa and had known her all her life.

And more villagers were still arriving – pushing, shoving, squeezing into non-existent spaces, raising eyebrows in greeting, slapping backs. Chatter was focused on what would happen after the feast when everyone had eaten their fill and wrapped food in banana leaves to take home, when the drums began and the fifine sauntered onto the grass wearing garlands of frangipani and gardenia.

Speculation was rife about the sailors’ reactions to sparkling eyes and glistening skin and long limbs revealed by swaying grass skirts. Men and women alike bellowed estimates of the sailors’ virility and the fifine’s fecundity, made generous guesses about the size of the sailors’ most private parts and the quality of seed that would flow when they coupled with fifine under the moon. Fantasies proliferated about the creation of babies with golden skin and strong new blood.

And all the while children ran amok and got cuffed for their pains, fifine tossed thick waist-length hair over shoulders to more perfectly reveal pert breasts, and fuata hung about in small groups rippling biceps and starting mock-fights. Two of the fuata waded across the jagged bed of the lagoon to the very edge of the reef and stood buffeted by the swell, staring at the ship, dreaming dreams of bygone years when their ancestors navigated the vast Pacific.

The sun was rising rapidly. People used what little shade there was and when none remained they covered themselves in a wild assortment of leafy concoctions and strange hats.

But no one departed – how could they when there was so much going on, so many people to talk to, so much to see on the beach and the crowded sea beyond the reef. Virtually every canoe in the village had been launched as soon as the ship billowed into the bay. Now most of those canoes had already crossed the lagoon and were  over the reef circling The Southern Star and creating mayhem.

This ship was expected. Unlike the marauding ships it was known and trusted. It was welcomed.

Buy Links:  http://amzn.com/B0086REMQW

gwendoline-ewins-450

Author biography:

I grew up in the east end of London and then went where my husband’s work took him. We spent almost a decade in Polynesia before coming to live in New Zealand. “Our” small island was surrounded by never-ending sea and first inhabited years ago as Polynesians left “Havaiiki” in search of something better or simply different. They travelled on fragile trimarans should have sunk but survived the long voyage and they eventually found strings of glorious islands and atolls rising out of the sea.

Our travelling was easier. We flew from London to Fiji then sailed on over a spectacular Pacific Ocean. Our two small children vomited all the way and I vowed I would never move again: wherever we landeed we’d stay forever, I told myself and anyone else prepared to listen. But we arrived and were welcomed generously with a feast of food I’d only read about followed by singing and dancing and hand movements of extraordinary beauty.

I discovered for myself Polynesians were courageous people, intelligent and beautiful with a lusty appreciation of the physical and a very different set of values to those I knew and accepted as did the teachers, plumbers, nurses and doctors who were part of our expatriate community. Beliefs about sensuality and promiscuity were miles apart. Polynesians knew how to grieve and to experience joy, they took it for granted everything was to be shared whereas “sharing” was tantamount to theft to the Europeans. Put simply, Polynesians thought this was right and this was wrong and Europeans often thought the opposite. I had to learn that values were often simply (and painfully!) different, and accept a generosity that at times was overwhelming. For example one of the busiest women I’ve ever met was the pastor’s wife. A lot was expected of her from the villagers, she had a large family to care for yet at sunset found time to sit with me on her balcony and give me language lessons.

Eight years later my husband was offered work in New Zealand and it felt right to move on. Our children went to high school and I went back to work. Then a new chapter in my life began: a good friend enrolled at university and I followed her.

Some years later our daughter and children moved to Christchurch. I couldn’t get my practice going in a different city. I remembered a strange dream I had and decided I’d write a book. I didn’t know how difficult that would be! I didn’t give up, and I’m pleased about that.

Social media:

Website: http://www.gwendoline-ewins.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6561693.Gwendoline_Ewins

I’d Like to Introduce You To… @Ejohnsauthor #AuthorInterview #Regency #Romance


I meet the most interesting authors and today, I’m thrilled to introduce you to Elizabeth Johns. She and I share a love of all things Jane Austen. Whether you read Regency Romance or not, she is worth knowing. I surely don’t know how she finds the time to write. She agreed to sit down with me for an interview and to showcase her series. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Elizabeth Johns.

 

What authors have inspired you?

First and foremost, Jane Austen. She sparked my love of reading. Since then, Georgette Heyer is my favorite for her clever dialogue, and Tasha Alexander made me realize it was possible to write with a young family.

 

If you didn’t write books, what would you do for a living?

Since I have two other careers, I would say medicine and nutrition. My professors have always teased me about what career I will finally settle on, but we are never too old to learn new and try new things!

 

What is your writing process?

I make a rough outline—very rough—and I dictate one scene at a time. When I have ideas about the story, I add them to the end until I think of how the scene plays out. Then I go back in and fill the holes.

 

So that answers the next question, am I a plotter or a punster?

I lean more towards panster—which is shocking since I like to be organized in everything else! Over-plotting just frustrated me when the story wanted to go a different direction.

 

Best marketing tip?

I am no authority. However, engaging with your readers and being my genuine self has been rewarding for me.

 

Do you write naked?

I am sure I will regret answering this, but I do my best writing in the bathtub! It relaxes me, takes me away from other distractions, and allows me to visualize the scenes as they play out. (MRS N here- I do some of my best brainstorming in the bathtub) 🙂

 

What were you like as a child?

My father and sisters say my daughter is like me in every way. I modeled a character after her in my latest book. She is charming (not to say that I was), talkative, and has endless energy. Endless. I appreciate my parents now more than ever!

 

What’s your vice?

Sugar. I can become easily addicted if I don’t watch it. I love to bake, and I have to stop myself!

 

Have you ever been in trouble with the law?

In a way. I managed to get a rather large ticket on the autobahn—yes it is possible—and they took my license away for two months and charged me 1000 euro. Ouch.

 

One place to visit that I haven’t been before?

I never made it to the south and west of France. I am drawn to the beautiful Mediterranean, the Loire Valley and its lush vineyard-covered hills, and also the beaches of Normandy and the Mt St Michelle. I would also love to visit the Holy lands. That is almost too surreal to contemplate.

 

 

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000040_00005]

 

Book Title: Surrender The Past

Author: Elizabeth Johns

Genre: Traditional Regency Romance

 

Blurb:

Elinor Abbott was only 14 years old when she and her father left England for America. Six years later, with war at their doorstep, Elinor Abbott is forced to return to her land of birth and a life amongst the aristocracy she abhors. A return to England also means facing the man who brutally attacked her as an adolescent.
Viscount Easton came to the United States at the behest of His Majesty’s Army, for his last assignment. He was sent home early due to an injury and must face his new destiny as the heir to an earldom. An unexpected encounter with the unrefined beauty links Easton and Elinor together in society, and he must decide whether to save Elinor’s reputation or hold on to bachelorhood.
Can Elinor navigate the perils of coming out in aristocratic England and still retain her sense of identity? Can Easton help her overcome her aversion to men? Or will her past keep her from facing her future?

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

Easton took a small boat from the ship in the harbor up the Potomac to the dock on Sir Charles’ property. He let out a gasp when the plantation and property came into view. A beautiful white manor house stood overlooking a bend in the river. The house was surrounded by enormous oaks, pines and rolling hills covered with vineyards and fields of tobacco. A more picturesque setting, he could not imagine. It was as if a fine portrait came to life with sounds and fragrances in accompaniment. At least he understood why Sir Charles had stayed on in America after the war started when most British loyalists had fled.

 

Standing there, Easton was struck with a longing he had never known before. He had spent eight years wandering nomadically with the army both following and giving orders. The bonds he had felt with his fellow soldiers had been enough—an unspoken comradeship of people who would have never interacted otherwise were it not for the connection of war. He had been a mere child when he’d left, invincible and arrogant, the military his destiny as a second son. He had accepted it willingly, but nothing could ever truly prepare one for the harsh realities of war.

 

Now he was a man, hardened by the horrors of battle and loss, littered with scars both physical and mental. Suddenly, the thought of settling down and working his own land almost overcame him. He longed to return home and never look back at this life. He had to hope that somewhere a small measure of peace existed for his estranged soul.

 

“Easton then remembered Sir Charles’ daughter, Little Elly they had called her. He wondered how old she might be now. She had been an adorable little spitfire with golden curls and charm enough for a whole army. She had followed them everywhere in her pink pinafores and dirt, and none of them had had the heart to turn her away, not that it would have deterred her. So she had gone riding, fishing and shooting with the lot of them. Of course they had teased her relentlessly by putting frogs and worms in her bed, but she had been full of pluck, reciprocating as much as she was able. He sure hoped she hadn’t turned into a silly, simpering miss like most females of his acquaintance.

The noise of a galloping horse shook him out of his reverie, reminding him to paste his pleasant façade back in place. He looked up to see a girl flying straight at him on her chestnut mare in a breakneck fashion, much too fast and distracted to notice him coming up from the dock on the property. She was dressed like a stable hand, blonde hair flowing wildly behind, riding astride in her split-legged skirt.

As he stood there gaping, he realized she did not see him and would soon run him over. He jumped back into the muddy riverbank at the same time she saw him and pulled up on her horse to try to avoid trampling him. Instead of stopping, the horse reared, and the girl flew off, landing with an ungraceful thud at his feet.

“Ouch.” Her hair in the mud and her limbs splayed in all directions, he offered his hand to help her sit up as she tried to catch her breath, but she ignored it.

“Are you all right, miss?” She looked around and spotted her horse, and then glanced at him. Clearly, the horse’s well-being was of utmost importance here. Again, he offered his arm, but she shooed it off, then stood and began smoothing her mud-covered skirts. A little late to be concerned with appearances he thought.

“Of course I’m not all right! Why were you standing in the middle of the path? You must have seen me coming!” the girl shouted with her fists balled up and her arms stiff at her side.
He gaped at her from under his hat. He longed to wipe the mud off her face to see what she looked like. Of course he had been mesmerized watching her, but he wasn’t going to fess up to that while she was trying to blame him for her reckless riding!

“I wasn’t the one riding like a hellion!” he said to her as if she were one of his troops.

“Ugh! Well, I can see you are unharmed, so kindly remove yourself from our property!”

With that, she turned on her heel and marched over to her horse that was lazily chomping grass. Once mounted, she managed to spray Easton with mud as she urged her horse forward. He realized she’d said our property. He groaned. He wouldn’t call Little Elly missish or simpering at least.

 

Links:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1ARDniY

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1ttqqMw

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/surrender-the-past

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/surrender-the-past-elizabeth-johns/1119882665?ean=9781500401665

ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/surrender-the-past/id931621380?ls=1&mt=11

 

Other books in the series:

 

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000039_00072]

 

Title: Seasons of Change

Blurb:

Rhys Godfrey, Lord Vernon and Lady Beatrice Chalcroft, daughter to the Duke of Loring, had been betrothed since childhood in an arrangement made by their fathers. Unlike most arranged marriages, Vernon had loved Beatrice since the first time he saw her. The season they should have been married found the relationship severed by jealousy and pride.

Beatrice was sent away from home to reform her spiteful behavior, and Vernon was hurt and determined to forgo love.

Lord Vernon decides to move on with an unemotional marriage of convenience.

Lady Beatrice finds herself reduced from a Duke’s daughter to a life of service in Scotland trying to learn the ways of the less privileged.

Will the two find their way back together again? Or will Vernon choose another bride first? Will Beatrice be able to humble herself and reform her shrewish spoiled ways?

 

SR Final

 

 

Title: Seeking Redeption

 

amazon uk

Author Biography:

Like many writers, Elizabeth Johns was first an avid reader, though she was a reluctant convert. It was Jane Austen’s clever wit and unique turn of phrase that hooked Johns when she was “forced” to read Pride and Prejudice for a school assignment. She began writing when she ran out of her favorite author’s books and decided to try her hand at crafting a Regency romance novel. Her journey into publishing began with the release of Surrender the Past, book one of the Loring-Abbott Series. Johns makes no pretensions to Austen’s wit but hopes readers will perhaps laugh and find some enjoyment in her writing.

Johns attributes much of her inspiration to her mother, a retired English teacher. During their last summer together, Johns would sit on the porch swing and read her stories to her mother, who encouraged her to continue writing. Busy with multiple careers, including a professional job in the medical field, author and mother of small children, Johns squeezes in time for reading whenever possible.

 

Social Media:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorelizabethjohns

Twitter: @Ejohnsauthor