Victoria Gray

Welcome Author Liz Flaherty

2012-02-01T21:25:00.000-08:00

Welcome, Liz Flaherty! So glad you're here today to discuss your new release and finding happiness.

Happy February! Victoria, thank you so much for having me here today and for being so patient while I arrive at the last minute, waving a frantic arm and yelling, “Here I yam!”

VEE-AY-CEE-AY-TEE-EYE-OH-ANN! Anybody else remember Connie Francis’s hit from 1962? Oh, no, I can’t be the only one! I loved Ms. Francis’s ringing voice and twinkling smile when I was 12 (that was the aforementioned 1962) and still do. I love vacations, too, and I’m on one right now, writing this from my sister-in-law’s kitchen in Florida, which has put on a smiling, sunny face just for me. Well, maybe not just for me, but I’m loving it even if I’m sharing it.

Anyone who’s read any of my blog posts over the past year knows—and is likely tired of hearing—that I’m retired from my day job. It was wrenching, leaving a job I’d loved for so long. I stood at the back door of the office where I worked for a full five minutes that last day, realizing that even though I’d had some miserable days there, I’d had a whole bunch of fun years. But, hey, people told me, retirement is a long vacation, and you love vacation. They were right, too—I do love vacation.

And I love retirement. I write when I want, sew when I want, do housework…well, when I have to. But wait, a few months into doing what I want, I sold a book. Even One More Summer came out January 2 of this year, I’m still busy. Doing promo, writing, revising what I hope comes up next. It’s—oh, no, it’s work! I’m sitting here in sunny Florida in my favorite sweats after a great lunch and a refreshing walk (that had more to do with the chocolate cake I had for dessert than it did with being refreshed) and I’m working. What is wrong with this picture?

Well, nothing. Not the first little thing. Because, even though writing and much of what goes with it is work, and it’s hard, butt-in-the-chair work at that, it is its own kind of vacation, too. Because I love writing and everything about it. Although I enjoy Florida and its beaches at any time, I like them the most when I have work to do while I’m here. I am the luckiest of retired vacationers!

ONE MORE SUMMER is the book of my heart and I hope you like it, too. Thanks for coming by.

http://ebooks.carinapress.com/19C28077-E8B2-400A-ACBF-FAE0579EE2F0/10/134/en/Default.htm

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-more-summer-liz-flaherty/1107412429

http://www.amazon.com/One-More-Summer-ebook/dp/B006BE6HAG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1324908781&sr=8-1

I’d love to have you visit my website http://lizflaherty.com or http://wordwranglers.blogspot.com/ where I hang out with some of my best writer friends.

Blurb:

Grace has taken care of her widowed father her entire adult life and the ornery old goat has finally died. She has no job, no skills and very little money, and has heard her father's prediction that no decent man would ever want her so often she accepts it as fact.

But she does have a big old house on Lawyers Row in Peacock, Tennessee. She opens a rooming house and quickly gathers a motley crew of tenants - Promise, Grace's best friend since kindergarten, who's fighting cancer; Maxie, an aging soap opera actress who hasn't lost her flair for the dramatic; Jonah, a sweet gullible old man with a crush on Maxie.

And Dillon, Grace's brother's best friend, who stood her up on the night of her senior prom and has regretted it ever since. Dillon rents Grace's guest house for the summer and hopes to make up for lost time and past hurts - but first, he'll have to convince Grace that she's worth loving...

Excerpt

It was no use.

Grace had taken her lengthy bath in the claw foot tub, shaved her legs and nicked her ankle right on the bone where it hurt most, and put on her chenille robe. She’d poured a tumbler full of the expensive wine Steven had brought a case of and sat on the couch with the book she’d gotten at the library when she’d read to the kids earlier in the week. Louisa May slept on the couch back, twitching her tail occasionally and smacking Grace in the face with it. Rosamunde dozed contentedly in the baseball cap Dillon had left on the lamp table. The window behind the couch was open, affording Grace a cooling breeze scented by the rain that had fallen that evening.

She’d already gotten up once and closed the pocket doors between the living room and the dining room. But she could still hear it.

Laughing. There were Jonah’s guffaw, Maxie’s theatrical trill, and the husky whoop that was always such a surprise coming from Promise’s soprano throat. Now and then another laugh slipped in, quieter than Jonah’s but no less gleeful. Dillon was there too. They sat on the screened porch, a good forty feet from where Grace sat with her feet up, and still she could hear them.

They were playing Monopoly. Grace hadn’t played that since the day before her mother died. She remembered that last game, the board balanced on a bed tray across Debbie Elliot’s legs in the room that smelled of Cashmere Bouquet talcum powder and sickness and medicine. Faith had sat on one side of her mother, Promise on the other, and Grace at the bed’s end.

“Sit on my feet a little, baby,” Debbie had said. “You keep them so nice and warm.”

Grace had won the game, and the next day—when Debbie was dead and life for the rest of the Elliots had irrevocably changed—she had hated herself for buying Boardwalk and Park Place and forcing her mother into bankruptcy.

“I made her die,” she’d told Steven.

“Her heart made her die,” he’d responded, but Grace hadn’t really believed him until he became a cardiac surgeon.

Sometimes, she still wondered. If Debbie had napped in the evening as she often did, would that hour of rest have made the difference? If Grace hadn’t sat on her mother’s feet with her eighty-five pounds of almost-twelve-year-old exuberance, would the final heart attack not have happened?

But she refused to think about those things now, nor would she consider the game of Monopoly with an inward shudder of dread. She thought instead of the laughter that was dancing along her nerve endings, and wondered if anyone else was using the little iron as their token for moving around the board. The iron had always been her favorite. She liked the way it felt between her fingers.

If she just got off her couch and wandered toward the porch like she was bored with her own company—which she was—would anyone make a big deal out of it? If Promise or the others acted surprised by her presence, Dillon Campbell would think she’d joined them just because he was there. Which was nonsense.

Of course it was.

She remembered how Dillon’s hand had felt when he pulled her to her feet the night before. She’d avoided unnecessary touch all her adult life, and one squeeze of Dillon Campbell’s fingers had her wondering if that hadn’t been a mistake.

More nonsense.

She tried again to devote full attention to the book, but finally gave up and laid it aside. She sat in the harsh light from the reading lamp and sipped her high dollar wine and listened to the laughter of the others. Isolation and loneliness wrapped around her, not new feelings by any means, but somehow deeper and darker tonight.

Maybe this time, as Promise often accused, she was excluding herself and the loneliness was of her own making. Maybe if she stepped onto the back porch, no one would make a fuss and no one would make her feel as though she didn’t belong. It was, after all, her porch.

Carrying her glass, she whispered open the pocket doors and strode barefoot through the deserted dining room and the kitchen with its ever-present light over the sink. After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed open the door to the porch.

“Replacement power. Just in time.” Promise’s smile was wide and brilliant. Welcome to the human race. Grace heard the words she didn’t say. “Now that I’ve been trounced, Grace can take my place while I make popcorn. No one’s using your iron, so have at it.”

Grace sat in the chair Promise vacated, taking the little metal iron from the Monopoly box. It still felt nice between her fingers.

“I’m the banker,” Jonah informed her, passing money around the table. “Since I’m better at losing money than anyone else, I was unanimously elected.”

“I don’t even know why I play.” Maxie sighed, fluffing her blond hair with heavily be-ringed fingers. “I seem to spend all my time in jail. Unless Dillon rescues me with his ‘get out of jail free’ cards,” she added with a flutter of eyelashes.

“I’m just a soft touch for a pretty lady.” Dillon smiled at her, his eyes glinting silver in the dim, yellow light on the porch.

Grace’s heart hammered against her ribs.

Geezy Pete, Grace, grow up.

Guest Author Jannine Corti-Petska - The Medieval Mafia

2012-01-09T20:24:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to welcome Jannine Corti-Petska today. She's here to share some fascinating background facts related to her latest release from The Wild Rose Press, Surrender to Honor and the history of the mafia. Welcome, Jannine!

In my latest release, Surrender to Honor, the story gives the reader an idea of how the mafia began. This book is the second in my Italian Medieval Series. While the characters are not patterned after anyone in history, the facts and nuances within the story are true.

The following article first appeared in Renaissance Magazine, issue #41. To read it in its entirety, please go to my website www.jcortipetska.com and click on “Articles.”

There is an ongoing dispute among historians over the date of the actual birth of the mafia. Some believe it sprang to life as early as the 11th century while others believe it came at least 200 years later. But what everyone does agree on is that the mafia planted itself deeply in Sicilian soil and has never relinquished its hold.

The first known record of the word "mafia" surfaced about 1860. The name itself has garnered many educated guesses as to its origin, the strongest argument comes from Sicilian writer Leonardo Sciascia, who believes that "mafia" evolved from Ma afir (place of refuge), an Arab tribe that inhabited Sicily until the Norman invasion in the 11th century. After the invasion, they were forced into the western region of the island, leading many to believe that the mafia's origins were racially motivated.

Scholars believe the Mafia was organized in the 13th century to fight against the oppression of the French Angevins. Their slogan was said to be Morte alla Francia Italia anela! ("Death to the French is Italy's cry!"), where the word "mafia" was made up from the first letters of each word.

Another theory came from mob boss Joe Bonanno. He believed the mafia began with what is called the Sicilian Vespers when, in 1282, a French soldier raped a Sicilian girl on her wedding day. After discovering the tragedy, the girl's distraught mother ran hysterically through the street, shouting "Ma fia, ma fia!" ("My daughter, my daughter!")

But still another theory derives from the early times of the Sicilian feudal baron. To maintain control over his peasants, as well as protect the estates and property of absentee landlords against foreign invasion, barons used gangs of armed guards called compagnie d'armi. They recruited bandits who were generously rewarded for their misdeeds. If the bandits rebelled against the baron's guards, they were simply eliminated.

Finally, another widely accepted belief of the mafia's beginnings stems from the end of the Norman era. Each new sovereign who ventured to Sicily first established himself on the coast by taking over feudi, or land, which he gave to other nobles or his loyal followers, thereby securing himself more power over the island. To insure his foothold, the baron would give each feudo (those awarded a feudi) serfs to work the land. To keep the workers in line, guards and overseers were chosen for their unscrupulous reputations and criminal backgrounds, and their brutal means of supervision. This system of repression is considered by some to be the earliest model for the mafia.

It may seem that the mafia was created only to offset a lack of official security on Sicily. In fact, it was born out of two basic principles of southern Italian life--the vendetta and the Sicilians' refusal to cooperate with foreign authority. Spilling their enemy's blood appeased their vengeful nature. Yet left alone, the Sicilians were resourceful, family-oriented, and content to work their land and care for their own.

Antonio and Prima, the hero and heroine in Surrender to Honor, are prime examples of a Sicilian’s character. Although they rebel against the evil Falcone family’s extortion, their pride and honor for their country is evident. My mother was Sicilian. There is a marked difference in their culture and personality. I know first hand as I have inherited my mother’s spiteful nature—quite dissimilar from my Northern Italian half. You might say I’m often conflicted!

Here's a little more about Surrender to Honor:

Prima Ranieri seeks retribution for her family's death and loss of home and land. Her plans go awry when the heir to the powerful Massaro family returns home. After only one glance, Prima's attraction to him undermines her furor toward those she blames for her plight.

After a fifteen year absence, Antonio Massaro returns to Palermo to find a war raging between his family and the evil Falcone. His refusal to accept his rightful position as the head of the Honored Society carries serious consequences. The welfare of the people of Palermo is at stake. But one look at the beautiful woman Prima has become costs him his heart. She's a deadly distraction...one that jeopardizes her life as well as his own.

Thank you, Jannine, for an interesting look at the history behind the mafia and your wonderful new release! Hope you'll come back again.

Sex Up the Holidays with Food - Spicy Advice from Guest Author Louisa Masters

2011-12-18T22:22:00.000-08:00

December is the most chaotic month of the year. The lead-in to the holidays, no matter what you do or don't celebrate, requires energy, patience, and, if you're like me, a whole lot of chocolate. Which makes it fortunate that December is also the best month for eating.

Think about it: one long month of holiday parties. All that baking. And, for those who celebrate Christmas, the turkey and accompaniments. After eating all month long, can you be blamed for feeling un-sexy?

My advice? Use the food to sex things up. After all, sex burns calories! First, holiday parties are a great place to build the heat. You don't have to sneak off for a quickie in the coat room (although I wouldn't rule it out), just kick off your foreplay. Feed your lover from your own plate. Make sure to make lots of eye contact. Don't bother with the fork—it just gets in the way.

I love to bake. And I always lick the bowl. Do I need to point out the benefits of licking batter off your lover's finger? Or anywhere else you fancy...

Then there's frosting...sticky and sweet, and oh-so-delicious. I always make extra—just in case it gets spilled. Or something.

And let's not forget the turkey. I can hear you thinking, what's sexy about cooking a turkey? My suggestion? Ask your lover to help you cook. Don't go naked, there's too much risk of splatter, but an apron covers the important bits and allows the imagination free rein and hands easy access. You need to taste everything as you prepare, of course, so go back to hand-feeding your lover. After all, there will be a lot of dishes to wash up anyway. No point adding to them. I'll let you work out what to do with the leftovers on your own.

Another way to sex things up that works all year round is a naughty story. My latest release, Inter-Office Relations, is one of those. Plus, it has an AMAZINGLY hot cover!

With her resignation submitted, Jeannie Price has one last task she’s itching to perform before leaving her job. After months of sitting next to hot, sexy colleague Tim Harding, it’s time to turn fantasy into reality with a scorching invitation to collaborate on matters of the flesh in Conference Room B. Then she can walk away without regrets.

Tim’s dreams of wild, sweaty sex with Jeannie come true when he accepts her offer, but he’s stunned to learn she doesn’t want to see him again after their steamy tryst. She may be trying to brush him off as just one more item on her To-Do List, but he’s determined to convince her there’s nothing taboo about inter-office relations.

You can buy Inter-Office Relations here, or read an excerpt here. And let me tell you, Tim and Jeannie don't bother with anything as mundane as the coat room!

Thanks to everyone for visiting, and to Victoria for being such a wonderful host. I'm giving one lucky commenter a prize: a free e-copy of Inter-Office Relations. You have until midnight Wednesday to make your comment, so there's plenty of time to try my suggestions and let me know if they worked for you!

Welcome Author Jennifer Jakes!

2011-12-14T19:05:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to welcome author Jennifer Jakes today. Jennifer's romances are sexy page turners. Welcome, Jennifer.

Please tell us a little about your story.

TWICE IN A LIFETIME

Be Careful What You Wish For. . .

No-nonsense stuntwoman Isabella Douglas will do anything to stop an unwanted divorce and reclaim the happy life she had, even allow her old friend to concoct a magical spell to turn back time. But when the spell goes awry, Izzy finds herself trapped aboard a 1768 Caribbean pirate ship with a captain who’s a dead ringer for her sexy as sin husband, Ian. Convinced he’s playing a cruel joke, she’s furious – until she realizes he doesn’t know her or believe they’re married.

Captain Ian Douglas does not have time to deal with an insane woman who claims to be his wife; he has to save his kidnapped sister. But as Izzy haunts his dreams and fills him with erotic memories he can’t explain, he’s forced to admit he feels more than lust.

Trapped in a vicious cycle of past mirroring present, Izzy knows they only have days to find Ian’s sister and prevent disaster from striking a second time. If she doesn’t, their marriage will be destroyed again – along with the man she loves.

Do you have any guilty pleasures? Besides chocolate, watching TV, French Vanilla coffee – hot or frozen – no, not a one. J

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

What are you working on?

By the time you read this I should have a Free Read posted on my website. Then I’m working on a twist to a Classic Fairy Tale – the twist being erotic, western historical. Then back to work on my novel, Alaskan Heat.

Where can readers find you on the web? http://www.jenniferjakes.com

If you could wake up stranded on a desert island with one celebrity hunk (actor, athlete, musician, etc.), who would it be? Why?

Alex O’Loughlin ….and you know why!

Here's a delicious excerpt from Twice in a Lifetime: (Warning- this is an scorching hot erotic excerpt -- if that's your idea of a bad thing, please go no further ; )

Her fingers threaded in his thick hair as she traced his mouth with the tip of her tongue. “Kiss me.”

He hesitated, then groaned and covered her lips in a breath stealing kiss. Hot, wet, silky. Her nipples hardened, ached for his touch, the tug of his fingers, the pull of his mouth.

“Touch me.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, then licked his collarbone. “I need your hands on me.”

He grunted and slid his hands down her back. Rough palms gripped her cheeks, grinding her against his erection. His gaze burned through her as he moved his thigh between her legs.

“Yes. Please.” She tilted her hips, rubbing, needing release more than air. “Oh, God, yes.” Desire roared through her, the ache building. Building. The orgasm so . . .damned. . .close.

A sharp knock sounded at the door. “Captain? The men are ready to go ashore.”

Ian pulled back and swallowed hard, his expression hungry, his heart thumping against her breast.

“Captain?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be right there.” His heavy lidded gaze skimmed her body. Possessive. Aroused. Regretful as he set her aside.

Her mind crawled to process what was happening while her body was doused with disappointment. “You’re still going?”

He raked through his hair, then nodded. “We need provisions before sailing for Jamaica. I’ll only be a few hours.” He stepped to the door, but turned and pinned her with a hard stare. “But when I return . . .”

“Yes?” Her heart thumped in anticipation of some explicit description of what he would do to her. Oh, but his tongue was naughty in all the right ways.

“. . . I expect an explanation.”

Izzy drooped against the door, her thoughts racing even though her legs collapsed. This was going to be the shortest second chance in history.

Wow, that was steamy! Can't wait to read it...and at 99 cents, what a bargain!

Jennifer is giving one lucky commenter a copy of Twice in a Lifetime! Can't wait that long...here are links to purchase the story:

Kindle : http://tinyurl.com/7gvanj6
Smashwords : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/108621
ARe : http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-twiceinalifetime-646657-155.html

Thanks so much for coming today, Jennifer! What a wonderful read!

Holiday Movies

2011-11-26T09:30:00.000-08:00

Nothing says the holidays are here like movies with a holiday theme. As I write this, I've just finished viewing Planes, Trains, and Automobiles with my husband. As a frequent traveler, this movie really resonates with him, while I adore Steve Martin's wry humor and John Candy's earnest portrayal of Martin's polar opposite.

Some of my favorite holiday movies are comedies. During the holiday season, the stress of preparation sometimes tends to overcome the joy of the season. Here are a few of my favorites:

1) National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation - far and away my favorite...Clark and Ellen Griswold could have been modeled after my hubby and myself..."It's Christmas, Audrey...we're all in misery." Truer words have seldom been spoken! And, after all, my husband is the king of exterior illumination...how many people have a Steelers snowman inflatable on their lawn?
2) Scrooged - Bill Murray's take on the classic tale...love Carol Kane's manic, somewhat sadistic fairy.
3) Elf - Will Ferrell in green elf tights...what's not to like?
4) Love, Actually - a tender-hearted romantic comedy. Love Hugh Grant!
5) Jingle All The Way - yes, I admit it...I love this movie...what parent hasn't felt that same panic?
6) A Christmas Story - perfect holiday nostalgia
7) Planes, Trains and Automobiles - a wonderful comedy with serious undertones...Steve Martin's performance was awesome, as was the late John Candy as Martin's unintentional nemesis. A touching and funny story.
8) Die Hard - alright, this isn't a comedy, and it isn't really a Christmas movie, even though it takes place on Christmas Eve...but Bruce Willis in his prime was a real gift to me!

What holiday favorites would you add to this list? Which of my faves are your favorites, too. Leave a comment for a chance to win an e-copy of Surrender to Your Touch. One lucky commenter will be chosen to win.

Classic Romance: Jane Eyre

2011-10-09T21:38:00.000-07:00

October 6 marked the 164th anniversary of the publication of my all-time favorite classic romance, Jane Eyre. The passion between Jane and the enigmatic Mr. Rochester is timeless. Many movie adaptations have been made of this classic...in my humble opinion, one of the best is the recent release featuring Michael Fassbender as Rochester. His portrayal is stirring and marked with raw masculinity. Loved it! Check it out and let me know what you think.

Just to get you drooling, here's Fassbender as Rochester :)

Contest News!

2011-08-30T21:31:00.000-07:00

It’s time to enter the Seduced by History Blog August contest. Check on each blog during the month, look for a contest question, send in your answers to each question in one email to seducedbyhistoryblog@yahoo.com by or on September 5, 2011. IF A BLOG DOESN'T HAVE A QUESTION, SKIP THAT DAY.

Prizes awarded to one lucky winner include: Victoria Gray’s book "Angel in My Arms", "Spirit of the Mountain" package from Paty Jager, Cynthia Owens’ book "Coming Home", a Kansas basket from Renee Scott, Anna Kathryn Lanier’s ebook “Salvation Bride” and gift basket, “Stringing Beads - Musings of a Romance Writer” by Debra K. Maher, Eliza Knight’s ebooks “A Pirate’s Bounty” and “A Lady’s Charade”, Anne Carrole’s book “Return to Wayback,” a 4 gb jump drive, a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card, and more!

All entries must be received by or on Monday, September 5, 2011 to be eligible for the drawing. Please include you mailing address in email. A winner will be chosen from all those eligible on or about September 6, 2011 and contacted by email. Odds of winning will depend on the number of total number of entries received.

Oh, sorry, but Mr. Rochester isn't one of the prizes...but he's certainly nice to look at, isn't he? Now, what are you waiting for...get your entries in today :) Here's the link one more time: www.seducedbyhistory.blogspot.com

New York, New York - My Visit to the City That Never Sleeps

2011-07-21T06:50:00.000-07:00

Last week, I flew to New York City with some friends and had a blast! Talk about the city that never sleeps! During my stay, I managed to squeeze in more than a half-dozen destinations, but I can't wait to go back and take in more of the sights, smells, and sounds of the Big Apple.

Here are some of my favorite things to do in New York City:
* Take in a Broadway show – my personal favorite is Wicked, but I am dying to see Rock of Ages. I saw Hair last week, so now I can cross that off my bucket list!
* People watch in Times Square on a Saturday night.
* Stay at a hotel high above the streets of Manhattan and enjoy the view.
* Tour the Metropolitan Museum of Art – I spent the day there Saturday and I could still be touring the place…so much to see!
* Visit the New York Public Library – great for historical writers like me and history buffs.
* Shop at Macy's – sure, they're all over the country, but there's something special about being on 34th street. After all, it wasn't The Miracle at The Suburban Mall that became a movie classic.
* Visit Ground Zero – no explanation needed…
* Check out the Empire State Building – King Kong liked to hang out there…isn't that reason enough?
* Stop by The Dakota – even if you aren't a Beatles fan, there's something so haunting about the place where John Lennon spent his last years.
* Stroll through Central Park – an oasis in a sprawling urban city.
* Attend a taping of a tv show – next time, I will do what it takes to get Daily Show tickets.
* Check out the wonderful restaurants, delis, and shops – chain restaurants simply can't compare.
* Visit the giant M&Ms store in Times Square.

Of course, I could go on and on. I can't wait to go back. My first stop will be the Metropolitan Museum. I did quite a bit of research there for a historical that's in the plotting stage. I'll be posting more about my New York trip soon!

Guest Author Alison Henderson - Civil War Romance in the Ozarks

2011-07-05T20:17:00.000-07:00

I'm so pleased to welcome Alison Henderson back today. Like Alison, I love the Civil War era. She's here to share her new romance, A Man Like That, and the fascinating history at its center.

Now here's Alison to tell us about your new release.

I love reading about rakes and dukes as much as the next woman, but the stories of my heart seem to be all-American. I’ve always been fascinated by the history we see around us, no matter what part of the country we live in or visit. Since I’m from the Midwest, the most evocative and poignant historical reminders are from the Civil War.
When we think of the Civil War, we usually think of famous battles that raged from Pennsylvania to Georgia and across the South to Mississippi. We often forget the brutal effects of war in the states farther west. My latest historical romance, A Man Like That, takes place in the Ozark Mountains of central Missouri just after the end of the Civil War when the wounds were just starting to heal.

During the war years, Missouri was a border state – officially still part of the Union (unlike its neighbor, Arkansas) but recognizing slavery (unlike Kansas). The Show Me state was a veritable “No Man’s Land”, with neighbors and families split by competing loyalties.
In truth, many people changed sides depending on which army was in the neighborhood because the soldiers, both Union and Confederate, uprooted civilians, burned towns, and confiscated provisions whenever they passed through. The thin, rocky soil and steep terrain of the Ozarks provided a sparse living in the best of times, and 1867 was not the best of times. But for the fiercely independent folk who called them home, the lure of the mountains remained strong, and my hero, Morgan Bingham, is no exception.
Morgan bears the scars of fighting with the notorious Confederate guerilla, “Bloody” Bill Anderson, and joining a band of renegade outlaws after the war. His brother, Ethan, was conscripted by the army then sent home after losing a leg. Only love can save these damaged brothers from the demons that haunt them.

A Man Like That is a story of healing, redemption, and the value of family – all as important today as they were in 1867.

Here’s a blurb:

Jessamine Randall, fearless crusader and champion of the downtrodden, is not a woman to be left waiting at the altar. When her fiancé disappears hours before their wedding, the ever-resourceful Jessy hatches a plan to track him down and bring him back where he belongs.

Morgan Bingham knows he’s no good. Never has been. Never will be. A former outlaw is no fit husband for the only daughter of the town judge, despite her misguided notions. Besides, after ten long years away from home, it’s time to return to the hills and face his demons.

Ill-prepared, but armed with unshakeable certainty, Jessy follows Morgan to his family’s cabin deep in the Ozark Mountains where she’s sucked into a whirlpool of deep secrets and old hatreds. While she struggles to bring light and hope into their dark lives, her greatest challenge is Morgan himself. Can she ever convince him he’s worthy of love?

Thanks so much, Victoria, for hosting me today. It’s been great fun! I invite everyone to visit me at www.alisonhenderson.com for more details about A Man Like That and to check out the pre-quel, Harvest of Dreams.

Alison

Argh Mateys! How to Act Like a Pirate - Author Eliza Knight

2011-06-23T06:30:00.000-07:00

Thank you Victoria for hosting me today! I am so excited about A PIRATE’S BOUNTY release. It is my very first pirate story, and I had a blast writing it—not to mention the research.

Before your mind starts wondering to the bedroom—which yes, those scenes are fun to imagine and write—I’m talking about acting like a pirate! I like all of my stories to be as authentic as possible, and when you are writing a pirate story, there is a certain amount of language and actions that must be incorporated into the story to make it more realistic.

Here are some examples of pirate speak I used to make my story sound more authentic. I’ve also translated for fun!

“Avast, ye wretches, down ye go, else prepare to feed the fish!”

Attention, prisoners, please exit the ship via the gangplank, or I shall be forced to throw you overboard where you shall be made into a meal for sea creatures.

“Might be best to toss her to the sharks.”

Perhaps instead of letting her live, it would be best if we killed her and let the sharks eat her.

“Avast, men! You landlubbers! Back to the ship! We sail within the hour or I shall see you to Davy Jones!”

Attention please, good crew! My wonderful ship workers! Let us board the ship. We will sail within the hour, or I will be forced to sentence you to an eternity at the bottom of the sea with the devilish ghost of the heartless Davy Jones.

What are some other things you need to make your pirate story authentic?

~A ship of course (which I described on my last post here: http://victoriagrayromance.blogspot.com/2011/04/author-eliza-knight-anatomy-of-ship.html) or at least the need to get one’s ship, like the sexy Jack Sparrow we all know and love… sigh…

~A crew. Every pirate captain needs a crew!

~At least one peg leg, and some eye patches. A pirate story is just not complete without them.

~A pirate flag for your ship, to put fear in the minds of those you intend to dominate.

~A sword fight.

~A hot pirate captain–which you will most definitely find within my novella, A PIRATE’S BOUNTY. Captain Wraith Noir is totally drool worthy! He can capture me anytime! Here is an brief excerpt from the story when Faryn first lays eyes on him:

Faryn chanced a glance above her and was taken aback by what she saw. A man dressed completely in black, from shining leather boots leading to mid-calf, black leather breaches, black linen shirt and cape. His face was darkly tanned, lips covered by a neatly trimmed dark beard on his chin and a mustache. Hard gray eyes stared out at her from beneath raven brows. His hair was not pulled back but left to hang to his shoulders in sleek black locks, and atop that black head was a black cap, various accoutrements attached to it. Beyond beads, feathers and bones, she couldn’t make out more of what hung from his cap, nor did she care. She was sure she stood staring directly at the devil.

~ Said pirate captain, must: swagger, be full of confidence, have a wicked smile, kiss sinfully and have a tortured past.

~ And of course, what kind of a pirate story would it be if our sexy dread pirate didn’t find a lady to love?

Some great links to visit if you’re writing a pirate story are the following:

The Pirate’s Realm: http://www.thepiratesrealm.com/

The Pirate King: http://www.thepirateking.com/

Pirate Info: http://www.piratesinfo.com/

****

Eliza Knight is a multi-published author of historical romance and erotic romance. Her releases this summer include, A LADY’S CHARADE, a medieval romance, and A PIRATE’S BOUNTY, a historical pirate erotic romance. Visit Eliza at www.elizaknight.com

A PIRATE’S BOUNTY – Now Available at Ellora’s Cave!

1764. When Faryn is captured by the mysterious and sensual dread pirate Captain Wraith Noir, who delivers her as a slave to the flesh-hungry court of the pirate queen, she expects her future will be bleak and death imminent. Lucky for Faryn, Wraith doesn’t plan for that to be her end, as he wants her for his own.

Duty, desire, passion, revenge and treachery besiege Faryn and Wraith. With the future uncertain, only fate, love and the truth will set them both free.

Reader Advisory: Contains a heroine experiencing the diverse pleasures of a pirate queen’s court, including f/f touching and scorching public sex, as well as mentions of traditional pirating endeavors.

An Excerpt From: A PIRATE’S BOUNTY

Chapter One

The Coast of the Greek Isles, 1764

The crack of the whip stung as it struck the flesh of Faryn’s bare buttocks. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, refusing to cry out as she knew the crew liked to hear. She would not try to jump overboard again.

Metal clanked against the masts as men shouted, “Heave! Ho!” to get the sails down now that they’d come into port. Instead of a white sail flying prominently against the mainmast, this ship’s sail was a flag. Large and intrusive, its image would shake any ship or person who neared it. Eerie wisps of clouds dusted the night sky, and the large silvery moon shone in flashes on the design, which sent an involuntary shudder through her now, just as it always did. Against the wide black backdrop, sewn in white, a large skull, and beneath it two silver swords crisscrossed. Below that was clearly an image in white of the top half of a man, well-muscled, who held the two swords.

“School your hands, mate! Orelia will not be pleased that you marred the flesh of one of her slaves.” The voice was filled with authority, and though he spoke English, she noted a slight undertone of French, something she ought to remember as he could prove to be an ally, but as soon as the thought entered her mind it was quickly gone again.

Slave.

The word echoed in Faryn’s mind over and over in tune to the throb of the welt on her flesh. She looked around with glazed eyes. A rough crew this was. Weapons covered their bodies, some crude, some elegant—and so very out of place, with their rough clothing. They smiled, some with teeth and some without. They leered at her with one or two eyes, some covered with a patch. Some grabbed at their crotches and waggled what little bits of male flesh hid beneath the layers of grubby breeches. Except for one. The captain. He stood out—dark, mysterious, large and eerily handsome. A cut above the rest.

Slave. Slave. Slave.

This was why they’d taken her in the middle of the night. She cursed her sleeplessness and need to walk on the beach that dreadful evening. They’d ripped her from everything she knew, tied her hands behind her back, tossed her over their shoulders and disappeared into the fog. She would be slave to Orelia. But who was Orelia? She’d never heard the name before now.

“Avast, ye wretches, down ye go, else prepare to feed the fish!” a man shouted, as he hobbled up and down the line of slaves on one foot and a wooden pegleg.

The captain’s gaze held hers, catching her breath in her throat. She was frightened…yet another feeling had her belly twisting into knots. Without taking his gaze from hers, he flicked his hand toward her and sliced through the rope tying her arms around the mast. He jerked his head toward the other gangplank and Faryn hurried to line up with the other beaten and naked men and women who would serve as slaves to the mysterious Orelia, eager to have her feet walk on steady ground again. They’d traveled far, she was sure. And as she stepped down the gangplank, splinters sinking into the tender flesh of her feet, she was hit with the knowledge that escape would not come easy.

Ocean stretched far and wide. The sounds of water crashing against the shore, and the scents of salt and ocean surrounded her. Loud voices shouted all around her, mixed with the creaking of boards, boot heels clicking on wood and other ship sounds. From the dock came people, she could barely make them out with only the small lanterns they carried. Naked bodies trembled and wobbled down the planks in front of her. She was delirious from hunger and pain. Cold and wet.

Gooseflesh rose along her limbs, her nipples were hard and stung as her hair whipped violently against her chest.

She cried out and lost her footing. Arms flung out, she sought hold of anything, her hands catching the slippery back of another slave, who jumped forward at her touch. Her knees dropped to the wood of the gangplank.

“Get up!” shouted one of the men wielding a whip. But she could not. She was so weak…too tired. Her vision blurred.

“That one won’t make it. Captain, ye want her back? Might be best to toss her to the sharks.”

Welcome guest author Missy Jane!

2011-06-04T21:35:00.000-07:00

I'm so pleased to have Ellora's Cave author Missy Jane as a guest today. Missy's here to discuss her new projects and release. Welcome, Missy.

Tell us about your new release in 5 sentences or less.
My most recent release is an Ellora's Cave quickie called Educating Macey. It's about Macey, a single mom whose only child has just left for college. Her hot next door neighbor takes the opportunity of her empty nest to reveal his attraction to her, but she's skeptical because of their age difference. The opening scene is my favorite that I've written so far. She walks into his house while he's watching a porno and joins him ;-)

What do you love best in a hero?
Honestly and loyalty. It's fine to write about sexy Alpha males, but if they're shallow and self-centered what's the point? I prefer some realism in my heroes, including a touch of vulnerability.

What's your next project?
I have one in the editing stages and another I'm waiting on the contract for. The first is a contemporary novella about an erotic photographer and his reluctant model. The second is my foray into the vampire genre. I'm really excited about both and hope to have more info very soon.

Tell us about yourself.
Well, I've always been a reader with a crazy imagination. I remember making up stories as a child and telling them to my mom, who often had a frightened expression afterwards. I didn't actually start writing until about nine years ago. At first I wouldn't let anyone see my work and would blush every time I said I was writing. Then in 2008 a friend convinced me to go with her to the Romantic Times Convention and we took the beginning writers' class. And here I am! ;-)

What inspired your story?
Well, the most recent stories are erotic and I'm often inspired by other stories I've read. Educating Macey was born when I considered how taboo it is for women to admit to watching/liking pornography. I thought, wouldn't it be funny for a character to get caught watching it? I also wanted to write a character closer to home. Macey is near my age and shares some of my opinions on sex and the opposite sex. She's someone I can relate to.

Victoria, thanks again for having me on your blog today! Readers, I'm doing a Birthday Blog Tour for the whole month of June. Every comment on this post will enter you into the daily drawing plus put you in the running for the grand prize!(see my site for details) Comment with your email address please. Good Luck!
-Missy Jane
*Make reading a guilty pleasure...*
www.msmissyjane.com

-Missy Jane

*Make reading a guilty pleasure ...*

www.msmissyjane.com

Thanks so much for being here, Missy. I am looking forward to getting my hands on Educating Macey.

Guest Author Paty Jager

2011-05-24T20:15:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to have Paty Jager as my guest today. Paty's new release, Spirit of the Lake, is a touching paranormal romance set in the magnificent American west. Here's Paty to tell us about her story.

Victoria, thank you for having me here today.

The other day a TV show I had on gave away baby items to pregnant women. My oldest is 31 and there weren't any of the gadgets on the show around then. They'd just came out with the umbrella stroller and the front pack. Now they have strollers with bottle warmers that turn into car seats.

My current release, Spirit of the Lake, is the story of a Nez Perce maiden who is raped by a White man and with the help of a Nez Perce spirit, carries the child to term to prove the White man's deceit. During the eight months of the story, Dove, the heroine, lives with an elderly woman who talks in questions. This woman spends the winter months beside the fire making the tekash, or baby board for the baby.

Baby boards provided mobility for the mothers while keeping their babies close. It also gave the babies security from dangers and the closeness of being near their mothers.

The structure of the board was made from rosebush limbs, willow limbs or any easy to bend limbs that could be lashed together and covered with buckskin. The buckskin could be elaborately decorated with paint and beads or plain.

What was/is your favorite gadget for babies?

This post is part of my blog tour. Leave a comment on as many of my guest blogs as you can and the person who travels with me the most will receive an autographed copy of Spirit of the Lake, a sweatshirt, and cowboy chocolate. To find all the places I’m visiting go to my blog: www.patyjager.blogspot.com The contest runs from May 18^th – May 29^th covering thirteen blogs. I'll notify the winner on May 30^th. In the event of a tie I will draw a name.

Blurb for Spirit of the Lake:

Two generations after his brother became mortal, Wewukiye, the lake spirit, prevents a Nimiipuu maiden from drowning and becomes caught up in her sorrow and her heart. Her tribe ignores Dove's shameful accusations—a White man took her body, leaving her pregnant, and he plans to take their land.Wewukiye vows to care for her until she gives birth, to help her prove the White man is deceitful and restore her place in her tribe.

As they travel on their quest for justice, Dove reveals spiritual abilities yet unknown in her people, ensnaring Wewukiye’s respect and awe. But can love between a mortal and a spirit grow without consequences?

Excerpt:

His voice floated to the sky as he chanted and swirled circles on her belly with his large hand. The gentle motion and warmth along with the deep tone of his voice soothed her stomach and her fears. One by one she placed the berries in her mouth and swallowed. With each piece of nourishment a new surge of energy filled her body.

His hand remained light, yet heat penetrated her deer skin dress warming her body. The last berry disappeared between her lips, and she swallowed its sweet goodness. She watched him. His long light lashes hovered on his dark high cheeks, hiding his eyes from her. His deep voice continued chanting. The long hard muscles of his arms bulged, contrasting with the gentleness of his touch.

“I have finished the berries,” she whispered, fearful of disrupting his chant.

His eyes slowly opened, and he smiled down at her. “You must remain this way for a short time.” His hand rested on her belly as he shifted to sit cross-legged beside her.

The intimacy of his touch scorched her cheeks.##

To read more about the spirit trilogy or my other books visit my website: www.patyjager.net

Buy link: http://tinyurl.com/3jlabus

Author Lara Nance - Memories of Murder

2011-05-19T20:39:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased today to have Lara Nance on the blog today. Lara's recent release, Memories of Murder, is sure to keep a reader engrossed. Now, here's Lara:

Lara, what makes a book a keeper in your eyes?

One that I can read over and over and never tire of. Like Dune by Frank Herbert.

Tell us a little about what you are working on.

I've just finished an Urban Fantasy called, The World Beneath. It’s about an city of people living underground in tunnels and caves that no one knows about. They become threatened when their source of power runs out and a young woman who lives there has to find a way to save them.

Tell us about your inspiration for your books.

I find inspiration in a variety of ways. Sometimes from a real historical fact or event that catches my eye and sometimes just from the crazy world inside my head! LOL

What are your must-have qualities in a hero?

A sense of humor and the ability to be tender while still being a rock of strength.

Do you have any guilty pleasures?

Red wine and Pepperidge Farms hot dog buns.

Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you.

I live on my sailboat.

What’s next on your writing horizon?

I’m in the final editing stages for Dealers of Light, a Contemporary Fantasy Romance being published by Crescent Moon Press the end of May. After that I’ll come up with a new idea to work on, but I haven’t decided what it will be yet.

Tell us about Memories of Murder.

Memories of Murder is a paranormal romance that came out in March from Crescent Moon Press. Here's a little about the story:

After Maeve renounces her powers as a witch and moves to Virginia to start a new life, the last thing she expects to see is a man jump to his death the second she gets out of her car. She also doesn’t expect to fall in love with the town’s sexy sheriff, Paul, the son of one of her Alzheimer patients. Unfortunately, as their relationship intensifies, so does the energy of the malicious presence haunting the old asylum whose ruins lie beneath where Maeve works.

When a century old journal with ties to the asylum’s long forgotten cemetery surfaces, Maeve must conquer her inner demons and harness the magic she’s denied in order to stop the murders. If she doesn’t, she and Paul may be the phantom asylum killer’s next victims.

Here's an Excerpt:

"Ready?" Maeve found Paul sitting in the foyer near the Golden Acres entrance. He had changed out of his uniform into black slacks, a white Polo shirt, and a tan raw silk blazer.

"Yes, let's go. I'm in the Range Rover over there." Paul pointed.

The tingle of excitement had returned upon seeing him. She walked to her car, a little breathless. Hopefully they could talk about more than ghosts and evil spirits tonight. She'd shut herself off from others since the attack, filled with guilt and fear. But she was desperate to get over the closed-off feeling that lingered and to connect emotionally to others.

She followed Paul's car past the guardhouse, down the winding road alongside the mountain, and into downtown Rolling Gap. The view over the ravine to her right took her breath away. Jagged rocks interspersed with mountain laurel and cedar trees made a spectacular combination.

Paul sped away from her, going faster and faster. She frowned. Was he showing off? If so, it wasn't funny. It was dangerous. Two of his wheels came off the road around a turn. When the tires landed back on the pavement, the brake lights remained red, but his car went faster. Her heart nearly stopped. Something had to be wrong with his car.

She increased her speed as much as she dared and lost her breath when he skidded around another curve, almost losing control. He could be killed! Instinct took control. Raising one hand from the wheel, she strained her fingers outward. She recited the words of old, and a silvery stream of mist flew from her hand. A sheen of perspiration dotted her upper lip as she twisted her fingers, melding strands of magical gossamer together to form a web that attached to Paul's car. She pulled back on the strands and kept the vehicle from sliding off the edge of the ravine. Her voice grew louder. She tried to direct the path of the car with the web, but only managed to slow it. The best she could manage was to force the SUV into a tree to completely halt its progress.

She skidded to a stop beside him, jumped out, and ran to his door. Clouds of dust swirled up around them. He clutched both arms around the wheel, and a small cut on his forehead oozed blood. She wrenched open the door, and he tumbled out, keeping a hand on his arm as he looked back at his car.

"What the..."

"Paul, get in my car. Now. We have to get out of here."

"The brakes just gave out on my truck. But I don't know how it stopped."

"That's not what happened. You have to trust me. We have to get away from this place," she pleaded.

He hesitated a second, then slammed his door shut and pushed her toward the driver's side. He climbed into the passenger seat.

"Go." He barked out the order with one hand on the dash.

He groaned and touched his head. She put the car in gear and hit the accelerator. She was glad he didn't question the need for urgency or where she was taking him. She couldn't explain anything until they were safely inside the protective barrier the Gems had spelled around her cabin.

They were only five minutes from her place, but it felt like an eternity getting there. She flew up the dirt road and skidded to a stop at the front door. Her mind reeled over what had just occurred. There was no denying she had her powers back, and she was grateful her witch instincts had taken control. If she had paused to think, Paul would be dead. But how had the binding broken?

"Maeve, wait a minute..."

"Come on." She frantically pulled him inside the cabin, slammed the door shut, and took a deep breath. Liadan gazed up at her.

"Damn it, Maeve, what happened?" He spun her around to face him. His fingers dug into her upper arms.

"Come in, Paul. Sit down, and I'll try to explain." She breathed a sigh of relief as the grip on her arms relaxed. He followed her into the living room and sat on the sofa. She ran into the bathroom for the first aid kit and her medical bag.

She knelt before him, cleaned the wound on his forehead, and put a Band-Aid on it, even though he tried to brush away her ministrations. Then she checked his eyes and neurological status. No sign of cranial injury other than the small cut. Pulse was up, but then, so was hers. He had not sustained a serious injury. She had been so afraid the vehicle was going too fast when she moved it to crash into the tree, but it appeared he hadn't hit his head very hard.

"My brakes gave out completely, and yet somehow my vehicle stopped. I don't understand it."

"I know, I know. Just..."

"I'm not stupid. This is almost exactly what happened to my father today."

She nodded.

"You agree?" His brows went up.

"Yes, I do. And if I'm right, the same thing caused both accidents."

She imagined the thoughts that must be running through his head. She had to tell him everything now. If she didn't, he would be dead in the next few days. He needed protection.

She stood up. "Want a glass of wine? This is going to be a long conversation."

"Since I was just nearly killed, how about some whisky?" He fell back against the sofa. Liadan put her paws on his chest and licked his face.

Maeve walked into the kitchen, trying to figure out how she'd gotten her powers back. It dawned on her that the morning after the Gems had arrived, her tea was not in its regular spot on the counter. She'd assumed her mother had only been cleaning, but apparently she'd also switched the contents of the jar to non-spelled tea.

She reached into the cabinet for the tea container and looked at it, shaking her head, then laughed. Never had she been so glad for the Gems meddling in her life. She threw it in the trash and returned to the living room with glasses, red wine, and a small bottle of George Dickel, missing a few sips. "Here you go."

He took the whiskey and tossed back a shot, then poured another glass, which he held between his hands.

"So, what is it that tried to kill me and my father today?"

"You're not going to believe me at first, but if you'll hear me out, I think I have a pretty good case."

He gestured with one hand for her to begin.

"Everything I've seen and heard, all the information in the journal, points to the presence of an evil spirit. I believe it's the spirit of Dr. Colton Carterage."

Paul stared at her for several moments. "You're serious."

"Completely." She poured herself a glass of red wine from the freshly opened bottle and sat in the chair across from him. A tingle of energy floated in the air. She recognized a witch cat at work. She tried desperately not to laugh at Liadan working her little cat magic on him, licking his face, nuzzling his chest, pushing her paws against his arm. He couldn't have known what was happening, but darling LiLi was removing the mists of doubt from Paul's eyes.

Maeve explained about patients in the dementia unit seeing the ghosts of people described in the book. She told him about the white deer and why the limb had fallen. When she came to the part she dreaded most, she looked at LiLi, and the cat complied. She curled up in his lap, purring, increasing the intensity of her witchy magic to strengthen his belief.

"There's one more thing you need to know. My mother, my aunts...and me...we're witches."

Wonderful excerpt! Thanks so much for sharing this great read with us, Lara!

Welcome Author Eliza Knight - How To Address a Noble or Royal

2011-05-16T18:41:00.000-07:00

I'm delighted to have my friend Eliza Knight at the blog today. In addition to her steamy, sensual romances such as her upcoming release, A Pirate's Bounty and her Men of the Sea series through The Wild Rose Press, Eliza is the driving force behind History Undressed, a fantastic blog dedicated to history through the ages. Eliza's here with us today to discuss a subject that is the bane of many writers, myself included - addressing a noble or royal. Welcome, Eliza!

This is definitely a topic that can confuse many writers. Is she a lady or not a lady? Is he His Grace or my lord?

How were titles acquired? Titles were generally passed from father to son—and those titles were created by the king at some point. The king could appoint new titles whenever he liked. And if you betrayed him or angered him, he could strip you of your title and lands and give it to someone else. This happened often creating lots of feuds among the nobles. Can you imagine living a wealthy life with a castle and lands, and then having it taken all away? Your family left destitute? Forget the fact that you sold information to another nation, time for war!

While a woman generally did not hold a title in her own right—there were a few exceptions to this rule. A woman could actually be knighted, and deemed Dame Name, or My Lady. Some women, like Anne Boleyn, are given titles and lands—she was made Marquess of Pembroke.

You may also run across the term courtesy title. A courtesy title is a title that is bestowed on wives and children of a peer. For example, if a woman is married to a duke, she is called duchess, but it is not a title in her own right. A duke’s son was given the courtesy title of marquess of ___, a marquess’s son was called earl, an earl’s son was called viscount. The son of viscount and baron were called, The Honorable First Name Surname. Grandchildren of a peer, who’s father had a courtesy title, did not have a title. If a peer did not have any children and his title will pass to a distant relative, and that relative had no title of his own, even though he was considered the heir, he would not be called any title until her took over the peerage when the original peer passed. (Does this make sense?)

Here is a chart with the various forms of address:

Title	Addressed (comma between denotes “or”)
King/Queen	Your Majesty, Sir/Sire / Your Majesty, Ma’am
Prince/Princess	Your Royal Highness, Sir / Your Royal Highness, Ma’am
Duke/Duchess	Your Grace, Duke, Sir / Your Grace, Duchess, Madam
Marquis/Marchioness	My lord, Your lordships, Lord Title (ex. Marquis of Arundel = Lord Arundel) / My lady, Your ladyship, Lady Title
Earl/Countess	My lord, Your lordships, Lord Title (ex. Marquis of Arundel = Lord Arundel) / My lady, Your ladyship, Lady Title
Viscount/Viscountess	My lord, Your lordships, Lord Title (ex. Marquis of Arundel = Lord Arundel) / My lady, Your ladyship, Lady Title
Baron/Baroness	My lord, Your lordships, Lord Title/ My lady, Your ladyship, Lady Title, Baroness Title
Baronet/Baronetess	Sir, Sir First Name / (in her own right: Madam, Dame First Name) Wife: My Lady, Lady Last Name
Knight/Wife	Sir, Sir First Name / (in her own right: Madam, Dame First Name OR My Lady, Lady First Name) Wife: My Lady, Lady Last Name
Scottish Baron / Baroness	Title (ex. Baron of Edinburgh = Edinburgh), Baron / Lady Title, Madam
Laird/Wife	Laird, Laird Title / My lady, Lady Title

Often you will need to know how the daughter will be addressed. Here is a breakdown of that:

Duke’s Daughter	Lady First Name Last Name (Ex. Father is Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk = Lady Sarah Brandon)
Marquess’s Daughter	Same as above
Earl’s Daughter	Same as above
Viscount’s Daughter	Miss Last Name (subsequent daughters, Miss First Name)
Baron’s Daughter	Same as above

If you have any questions, I’ll be around today! Please feel free to ask questions regarding your characters and what their titles would be, or how they’d be addressed!

Eliza Knight is a multi-published author of historical romance and erotic romance. Visit her at www.elizaknight.com or http://historyundressed.blogspot.com

Welcome Author Tess St. John!

2011-05-11T04:59:00.000-07:00

I'm so pleased to welcome my friend Tess St. John today. Her new release, Second Chances, is a powerful, emotionally gripping love story. Tess, tell us a bit about the book and the story behind the book.

I want to thank Victoria for allowing me to join her blog today! She asked me to tell you a little about my process for Second Chances and a little about myself. So here it goes...

When I began writing Second Chances, I was thinking of entering a contest where the stories had to be historical and short. My first thought was, NO WAY, historicals take too much research. But honestly, the short story took very little time (and very little research—since I’ve read so many historicals) to write. The result was a very sweet story. And very dull. But as I read over it, I saw a new first scene in my mind. I sat in front of my keyboard and began typing. Tears began rolling down my cheeks and I knew I could never give the reader the emotional impact in a short, so it would be a full length manuscript. I'd never felt so connected to a story. But I wouldn’t have had the courage to write SC without having written the short story first!

I live near Houston, Texas, with an amazing man who I fall more in love with every day, and two kids who would make any mother proud. I worked as a bookkeeper and tax preparer for years, but had to stop a couple of years ago for health reasons. I'll be honest, while I can still look for two cents all day long (and most of the time enjoy it), I'm so pleased I don't have to!

Second Chances by TESS ST. JOHN

Love that frees a heart—also captures it.

When fifteen-year-old Emma Easton eloped to Gretna Green with an elderly infirmed Duke, he promised she would never have to see her abusive father again. But five years later, her husband becomes ill. On his deathbed he asks Lord Harold Drake, Viscount Drake, to marry and protect Emma.

After losing his wife in childbirth, Drake will never marry again, but offers to protect Emma. After a month of residing together, they become close friends. One afternoon Emma saves Drake’s daughter from being trampled and killed by a runaway horse and he realizes how close he came to losing them both, and how much he cares for Emma. But he can’t ask her to marry him until her mourning period is over

During the reading of her husband’s will, Emma’s father arrives claiming her elopement null and void because he believes it was never consummated. He insists since she is not yet one-and-twenty, she is still his ward. In order to save her, Drake devises a plan for her escape. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll take the matter of her virginity into his own hands.

Second Chances is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

Also, you can visit TESS ST. JOHN’S website at http://www.TessStJohn.com.

Thanks to everyone for stopping by...and thanks again, Victoria!

Welcome Heather Hiestand!

2011-05-05T22:26:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to welcome Heather Hiestand to my blog today. She's here to share her new release, Victoriana Adventure. Welcome, Heather.

Hi, Heather. Tell us about your new release.

Marooned in backward Victoriana by magic, Ollie Brown wants to get home to modern Tacoma. The enticing girl who shelters him tempts him to stay in this alternate reality, but what does a nineteenth century princess need with a twenty-first century skateboarding chemist in a world where science is banned?

Princess Lenchen thrills at the chance to assist the handsome stranger who speaks of oddities like candy bars and “grinding.” Ollie offers a breath of freedom, but Lenchen knows he feels trapped and out of place. She reluctantly tries to help him find a way back to his world, though she longs to know more about him—and to escape her cloistered life in the widowed Queen Victoria’s court.

If your story is made into a movie, what would the "tag line" be?

Every girl wants her own Cinderella story, even if she's already a princess

What's your next project?

I'm shopping a full-length romantic steampunk urban fantasy novel that I wrote with a friend, and I just finished the first draft of an erotic shapeshifter novella. Lucky Number Seven, my first werewolf story, still remains one of my top two bestsellers, and I've had fun returning to that world for this story. But with sexy firefighters added!

What inspired your story?

The first "Victoriana" story (in Holiday in the Heart, Highland Press, available in print and electronic forms) came to me in a dream. It was very much a Christmas story, and I wrote it exactly as I dreamed it. "Victoriana Adventure" is a standalone, summer-set return to that Victorian fantasy world, with a sibling of the first hero as my heroine. Osborne House, a home of Queen Victoria's family, also inspired me. Just gorgeous, and I had a photo of the part of the grounds where Ollie and Lenchen first meet as my screen background for years.

What makes a book a keeper for you?

Characters you never forget, a setting that feels utterly real, and laugh out loud or cry moments.

Contact information:

Victoriana Adventure: http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=177_139&products_id=4457

Heather Hiestand page at Amazon, which includes my Twitter feed and a blog feed:

http://www.amazon.com/Heather-Hiestand/e/B004NG0A98/ref=sr_tc_img_2?qid=1302649134&sr=1-2-ent

blog: http://blog.heatherhiestand.com

website: www.heatherhiestand.com

Guest Author Linda Morris

2011-04-28T22:04:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to welcome Linda Morris to my blog today. Like me, she loves American historicals. She's joining us to discuss the inspiration and history behind her new release, Montana Belle. Welcome, Linda.

Thanks for having me here today to talk about my western historical, Montana Belle. When I started writing this book, set in 1882 Montana, I knew I wanted my hero to be in the ranching world, but not really of it. I like cowboy stories as much as the next person, but I sort of wondered that I had to add to that genre. I wanted a different take. My heroine, Augusta Springer, is a cattle baron's daughter who has been educated back east and has come to despise ranch life, mostly because she's been ignored by her inattentive father, who is obsessed with running the Bar D to the exclusion of everything else. In addition, she's spent her time at school in Boston doing charity work under the tutelage of a philanthropic schoolmistress. She's been changed by exposure to the grim poverty in Boston's slums and plans to spend her life doing good works. As I got to know Augusta better, I knew that just any old cowboy wouldn't be able to convince Augusta to drop her dreams of a life beyond the ranch!

The year 1882 was an interesting one in Montana history. By that time, most forward-looking ranchers could see that the days of the cattle barons and endless open ranges were not going to last forever. Mining was also well-established in Montana at that time. It was a time of great transition, just a few years before Montana became a state. It occurred to me that mining could be a good alternative profession for my hero, Joshua Bradley. During my research, I came across the real historical figure of William Andrews Clark, and my hero's fate was sealed! Clark mined for a short time, but soon discovered the real money was to be made on the business end of things. Instead of mining, he helped miners file their claims, shipped in and sold supplies, and generally supported the needs of miners, for a price, of course. Here's what the PBS documentary, Las Vegas: An Unconventional History, has to say about Clark's money-making scheme:

"When a miner's monthly salary of $4 was considered a respectable income, Clark priced eggs at $3 per dozen. But such amenities were scarce in the rural mining towns of Montana, and the miners grudgingly paid Clark's asking price."

This site has lots of great photos of Montana mining camps that were a great source of inspiration: http://miningartifacts.homestead.com/MontanaMines.html. Clark was quite rascally: His business dealings wouldn't pass muster and his dealings in politics were no better.

He went on to succeed in many business ventures, including building and operating smelters and mills to process minerals he mined. Clark wasn't just the copper king of Montana. As the title of the PBS documentary suggests, he later played a critical role in the founding of Las Vegas, Nevada too, creating the town as a way station on the railroad he developed from Salt Lake City to Los Angeles. Clark County, where Vegas is located, is named for him.

For you constitutional scholars out there, a scandal relating to William Clark's first attempt at a US Senate seat resulted in the passage of the 17th amendment to the US constitution, which results in the direct election of Senators by voters. (Previously, Senators were chosen by state legislators.) Clark bribed members of the Montana legislature to get them to vote him into the US Senate, but the resulting scandal ruined his chances and spurred passage of the amendment to prevent such scandals in the future. Amazingly, he later overcame this stain on his record and was legitimately elected to a single term in the US Senate. Clearly, some things never change in the world of politics.

If you are interested in reading about my (highly fictionalized) version of William Andrews Clark, you can buy Montana Belle here: http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_146&products_id=4353.

You can also check out my blog at lindamorriswriter.blogspot.com, follow me on Twitter at @LMorrisWriter, or Like my Linda Morris, Writer page on Facebook. Thanks again, Victoria, for having me here today!

Author Eliza Knight - Anatomy of a Ship

2011-04-26T21:56:00.000-07:00

I'm so pleased to have Eliza Knight as my guest today. Eliza is the acclaimed author of several historical and erotic novellas and her blog, History Undressed, is a terrific read for any history buff. She's here today to discuss the anatomy of a ship and its impact on sea-going romance. Who wouldn't want to be swept away on a pirate ship by a brawny pirate?

Now, here's Eliza!

I have used ships in my historical romances several times—my Men of the Sea series, features Royal Navy Captains, and my upcoming summer release, A Pirate’s Bounty, features a French Pirate in the 18^th century.

When writing a story that features a ship as the setting, it is just as important to get the details correct as it is when describing your setting at court, or a stately London home. So today, I’m here to try and make sense of the anatomy of a ship! I’m going to use some excerpts throughout this post to show how I’ve used a ship’s anatomy in my stories.

Let’s start with the front of the ship, called the bow, and the back of the ship called the stern.

Excerpt from Her Captain Returns:

The salty sea air whipped against Ryder’s face. He stood at the bow of the ship. The sun began to set, and the pink of the horizon reminded him of his wife’s full lips. ©Eliza Knight, 2009

Now what are those long poles jutting towards the sky that sails are connected too? The one closest to the bow, is the foremast. The one closest to the stern is the mizzen mast. The one in the middle, which usually has the ship’s flag flying from it, is the mainmast.

Excerpt from A Pirate’s Bounty:

I should also mention that fore means the front of the ship and aft means the back.

So your character is going to board the ship… Let’s say it’s the hero, (only because I don’t want to have to write he/she for the next several paragraphs J) he will walk up the gangplank from the dock and step onto the main level of the ship, called the, wait for it… main deck. You’ll notice that most historical ships seem to have stages of decks on top. You have the main deck, the next deck up is the quarter deck (and I will note here that on ships that only have two decks, the quarter deck is used as the main deck) and then the top deck is the poop deck. These three decks are on top of the ship and exposed to the elements. At the bow of the top deck, is the forecastle. The forecastle housed the belfry (a bell), a canon (sometimes), the galley stove flew, and a marine walk—the giant grate (also referred to as a gang board) that provided easy access to the bowsprit without having to go through the upper deck. The captain’s quarters were usually right below the poop deck, the entrance on the quarterdeck. The ship’s wheel is also on the quarterdeck.

Excerpt from Her Captain Dares All:

The ship was a bustle of activity, as men untied lines, set sails and carried crates and barrels to and fro. Captain Williams led Tessa by the arm up the plank and onto the deck. The crew stopped and stared, some with mouths agape, and others warily. Her stomach plummeted to her feet and then jumped to her throat.

[a couple paragraphs later]

She nodded and followed him around the deck and down a narrow flight of stairs. They descended and walked down a hall to a wide oak door. Carved into a brass plate was his name, Captain Jeremy Williams. ©Eliza Knight, 2010

Now, beneath these decks, with a view of the outside through portholes is the gun deck where the cannons are operated and fired through special holes called a gun port in the sides of the ship. On this same level is also the gallery toward the stern. Some ships have an upper gun deck, a middle gun deck and a lower gun deck. The upper gun deck would hold the dining areas for upper level crew, sick berth (medical), and a work space for repairing sails and ropes. There was also sometimes an area for prisoners on this level.

On the middle gun deck you’d find officers quarters for any officers on board, the galley—where all the cooking was done, and the capstans, which were used to raise the anchors, or masts and yards. And perhaps some guns as well.

The lower gun deck, housed the lower crew members (they slept in hammocks), and had their mess hall. This was also where any animals on board were kept. Pumps for pumping out water were also located here.

Below the gun decks, was the orlop. The orlop was below water, so therefore it would not have any guns on this level. Here you’d find the surgeon, the purser (man who issued clothes, food and other supplies)—this man was in charge of rationing out, and often he or his assistant would sleep there to protect the goods. Beneath the orlop deck is the hold. This is the ships storage area, and also housed some of the mechanics of the ship like the ballast which kept the ship upright, more chain pumps.

Excerpt from Her Captain Surrenders:

The moonlight streaming through an opening in the ceiling revealed just as she suspected. The room where she’d been held was in the cargo hold. A ladder led from the opening on the ship’s deck to just a few feet away. She was in the very bottom of the vessel. ©Eliza Knight, 2009

Ships came in all sizes, the one described above is quite large, and as I stated before instead of having three gun decks, you may have only one or two. You can be the ship’s designer!

In my stories, my ships tend to be smaller and simpler, because I don’t want to describe layer upon layer.

I hope this post gives you a better idea of what a ship looks like, now tell me, have any of you used ships in your writing? Do you want to?

One lucky commenter will win ALL THREE novellas in my MEN OF THE SEA series.

Cheers!

Eliza

Eliza Knight is the multi-published author of historical romance and erotic romance. Visit her at www.elizaknight.com or www.historyundressed.blogspot.com. Eliza also writes historical fiction under the name, Michelle Brandon. www.authormichellebrandon.com

And the winner is....

2011-04-02T06:57:00.000-07:00

Clancy Metzger is the winner of a $5 Starbucks gift card and has been entered into the drawing into the Fool for Romance contest grand prize. Please email contact information to victoriagrayromance@gmail.com so I can send you the gift card. Details of the Fool for Romance grand prize can be found at http://www.crystalrainlove.com/foolforromance.htm. Thanks to everyone who stopped by and commented. Check back for more contests throughout the spring.

Ten Reasons Why I Love Romance Novels

2011-03-29T22:01:00.000-07:00

Now available from The Wild Rose Press

Years ago, the romance genre was widely held in disdain. So called bodice rippers were the rage in the seventies and eighties. The term was not intended as a compliment. Bodice rippers are historical romance novels in which the heroine is viewed as a sex object by the hero, the villain, and possibly even the man in the moon. The covers of the novels often featured the heroine in a state of disarray, with heaving breasts that would give Pamela Lee an inferiority complex and a testosterone-fueled hunk whose lust for the heroine is rivaled only by Charlie Sheen after six months in a monastery. The novel that started it all was Sweet Savage Love. I remember sneaking to read my mother’s copy of this book, and honestly, I never made my way through it. The hero was a brute, an ill-mannered thug who made the teenage boys I knew seem like regal princes by comparison, while the heroine had the mental capacity of a blow-up doll. I decided to stick to writers like Barbara Michaels, who wrote stories with gothic elements and heroines who actually possessed working brain matter. It wasn’t until years later, when I picked up a novel by Jude Devereaux, The Raider, that I fell in love with the historical romance genre. Her heroines were smart and spirited, her heroes fueled with enough testosterone to be hot and sexy, but not so much that they behaved like the Incredible Hulk in a traffic jam. Best of all, the heroes and heroines actually liked and loved each other for reasons other than their ample bosoms and muscular, furred chests. Was sexual attraction a part of the story? Sure. Isn’t sexual attraction a part of real life romances? But as in real love stories, it’s not the only part, and in a well-written romance novel, sex is only one ingredient in the mix.

I write romance, and I read romance. I enjoy all types, though historical romances are my favorite. Here are ten of my top reasons for loving romance novels (in reverse order):

10. Romance heroines come in all shapes and sizes. They're not all petite, buxom blondes, and they're not all ravishing beauties.

9. Writing and reading historical romances allows me to immerse myself in another time.

8. Romance novels often feature the triumph of good over evil, a classic theme I adore.

7. Romance heroes and heroines are strong characters with deep values or deep flaws...or both.

6. I don't have to read the end of the book first to know it's going to be a happy ending. That's one bit of predictability I like.

Now available from The Wild Rose Press

5. Romance characters undergo character development throughout the course of the story. They aren't static...the relationship helps them grow.

4. Romances reinforce the value of mutual respect and trust in a love relationship.

3. Romance heroines aren't sitting around waiting to be rescued. Many times, they are actually the rescuers! More and more romance heroines are strong, kick-ass women.

2. Romance heroes are hot!

1. Did I mention the happily-ever-after?

My love stories all feature smart, spirited heroines who love their men with a passion but stand up for what they believe in. Click on the captions beneath the novel covers to learn more about my historical titles.

Don't forget to leave a comment and follow this blog to be eligible for the Fool for Romance contest. You could win a Kindle and a wonderful prize package! I'll also select one lucky commenter to win a $5 Starbucks gift card.

Author Chat Tonight at Romance University

2011-03-17T05:10:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited...I'm a guest author tonight at Romance University. We'll be chatting starting at 9 o'clock. Hope you'll drop by Romance University and join the fun.

Fool For Romance Contest - You Could Win a Kindle!

2011-03-13T20:00:00.000-07:00

I'm participating in the Fool for Romance Contest. Enter this contest, and you could win a Kindle. Check out the contest page Fool For Romance Contest .

I'm So Excited...

2011-03-13T19:56:00.000-07:00

Great news! The third book in this trilogy, Surrender to Your Touch, has been contracted by The Wild Rose Press. I'll post the new cover as soon as I get it and will pass on the release date. Surrender to Your Touch continues the love story between Kate and Will that started in Angel in Your Arms.

Romance through Conflict - the Civil War in Romance

2011-02-17T21:45:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to welcome fellow Wild Rose Press author Susan Macatee today. She's here to discuss her Civil War-inspired romances. Welcome, Susan!

Thanks, Victoria, for having me on your blog today.

When I first started writing toward publication—after my youngest son started school—I wrote stories for children and young adults. But when I discovered there wasn’t much of a market for that type of story, I decided I wanted to move away from writing for young people and try writing romance. The first step was to immerse myself in the genre and I was instantly drawn to reading time travels.

During this period, I was also drawn into the American Civil War period and became a Civil War civilian reenactor. My husband had joined the military side and they welcomed family members to join as well, so after being immersed in the period—right down to the clothing, accouterments and food—it felt natural for my first manuscript to be a Civil War time travel.

It made sense to use the knowledge I’d already gained as a reenactor to show readers what it might feel like for a modern-day woman to be transplanted to a Civil War army camp. And of course she meets the man of her dreams, a real-life Civil War soldier. Watching the men in their uniforms at a battle reenactment can be a stirring sight. There’s just something about a man in uniform. Sigh.

Thus came my first full-length romance release, Erin’s Rebel.

But, my Civil War romances didn’t stop there. I used my knowledge of reenactors to write a novella for the Civil War anthology, Northern Roses and Southern Belles. In my story, Angel of My Dreams, the hero is a reenactor who meets the ghost of a Civil War nurse on a reenactment battlefield and learns a secret about himself in the process.

My next foray into the American Civil War came from my fascination with women who disguised themselves as men in order to join the army and fight. This occurred on both sides. I also read about immigrants to the United States who fought in the war for both North and South. So the heroine in my second novel, Confederate Rose, is an Irish immigrant who has a grudge against soldiers of the North for killing her husband and father-in-law, as well as causing the death of her unborn child. Although fiction, my heroine, Katie O’Reilly, is patterned after those real-life women soldiers who fought, often undetected until injured or killed. Many were never discovered at all, except many years later through letters sent home or journals.

The hero of Confederate Rose is a Southerner who’s driven from his home after refusing to fight for the Confederacy. He goes north and joins the Union Army to work as a spy.

The Civil War affords so much variety for heroes and heroines of all types. No two stories need be alike. And stories of romance possibilities are seemingly endless.

In the American historical Christmas anthology, An American Rose Christmas, I visit the woman soldier situation again. In my story, The Christmas Ball, the heroine is a Union soldier who falls for the camp surgeon. She’s a farm girl, while he’s a society man. Once he discovers the soldier he thought of as a boy is a woman, he shows her what it’s like to live in high society, taking her to a Christmas Ball in Philadelphia where his family lives. I partially patterned the heroine of this story after the true life heroine, Sarah Emma Edmonds, who grew up on a farm, joined the Union army disguised as a man and served as a mail carrier. She developed a close friendship with a medical steward in camp, and fell in love, but couldn’t reveal she was a woman, so, sadly, nothing came of it. In fact, she learned he became engaged to marry another woman.

I even foray into the supernatural with my Civil War vampire novella, Sweet Redemption. My hero is a fallen priest, now a Union army captain, who encounters a vampire. The heroine is a Southern woman whose husband was killed in the war.

Learning about this period in American history brings to mind all sorts of stories of romance, passion and danger. Reading first hand accounts and other non-fiction books about the people—both soldiers and civilians—who lived through the war, brings to mind tons of story ideas. Although the stories I’m working on currently all take place years after the war ended, I’ll never run out of ideas for Civil War set romances. I’m passionate about the period.

To learn more about me and all my stories, visit my website, www.susanmacatee.com

Valentine's Day Kick-off at Long and Short Reviews

2011-02-12T07:37:00.000-08:00

I'm over at the Valentine's Day Kick-off at Long and Short Reviews. Hope you'll stop by!

Saint Valentine’s Day—Not Just a Modern Gimmick—Guest Eliza Knight

2011-02-10T20:36:00.000-08:00

I'm so thrilled to have Eliza Knight at the blog today. The founder of the award-winning History Undressed blog is an expert on what I like to call the history of romance. She's here with us today to provide some fascinating insights about one of our most cherished celebrations, Valentine's Day.

Welcome, Eliza!

Valentine’s Day is fast approaching… Which is a bit unnerving considering it seems that New Year’s was just last week…

But what is this day we celebrate every February 14^th with cards, chocolates, flowers and words of love? Believe it or not, this day of love is not something drummed up by modern culture. In fact it’s been around for hundreds of years. There is not one specific Saint Valentine that can be attributed to the holiday as the Catholic Church recognizes three sainted Valentine’s, all martyred. Here is where legends come in to form where the celebration of love was derived on this saint day.

One legend states that in Rome, Emporer Claudius II (3^rd century) banned young men from marrying so he could use them as soldiers to fight his wars. A local priest named Valentine rebelled by secretly marrying young couples in love. When his treachery was discovered, he was executed.

Yet, another legend decrees that Valentine while in prison sent the first Valentine’s card himself to a woman who was his beloved, and signed it, “From Your Valentine”.

Why February? Some suggest it is because this is the anniversary of Valentine’s death. Others say that it is because when the Roman’s were trying to convert Pagans to Christianity, they chose a date that coincided with the Lupercalia Festival (a festival celebrated between February 13^th and 15^th that was meant to chase away evil spirits to release health and fertility.) Judging from how many Christian holidays and saint days fall on or around Pagan celebration days, it would be my guess that the latter was the beginning of it, and the legends created afterward—but that is only my opinion.

It was in the year 498 A.D., Pope Gelasius declared that February 14^th was Saint Valentine’s Day.

It is said prior to Chaucer that links to Saint Valentine and February celebrations were mostly about sacrifice and not love. In 1382, Chaucer recorded what is noted as the first indication of Valentine’s Day being romantic. Now, is that to say that there were not previous stories told? No. It just means this is the first piece recorded and used as evidence of an origin date. The problem with history is that we are only as good as the facts we have on hand…

Here is what Chaucer wrote in Parlement of Foules (yr. 1382):

“For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.”
(Translates as: For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird comes there to choose his mate.”)
Perhaps this is where we get the term, “love birds”?
Click here to read a modern translation of Chaucer’s Parlement of Foules: (http://www.umm.maine.edu/faculty/necastro/chaucer/translation/pf/pf.html)

The oldest Valentine’s Day card still in existence today, was written by Charles, Duke of Orleans, in 1415. He wrote the poem for his wife while imprisoned in the Tower of London after the Battle of Agincourt (French and English battle took place in Agincourt, France—English, by what some deem a miracle, won.). The card can be seen at the British Library in London, as part of the manuscript collection. Here is an excerpt:

Je suis desja d'amour tanné
Ma tres doulce Valentinée...

(Translates as: I am already sick of love, my very gentle Valentine.)

Shakespeare, in the 16^th century, even noted the love-day holiday in his play, Hamlet (Act IV, Scene 5)

To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine.
Then up he rose, and donn'd his clothes,
And dupp'd the chamber-door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.

In the 17^th century Valentine’s Day became even more popular, another chance for not only courtly love to endure, but every one to celebrate love and romance. By the 1700’s pre-made cards became available for purchase. In strict contrast to the romantic period of the 15^th and 16^th centuries, during the 18^th and 19^th centuries, expressing ones emotions was frowned upon. Cards that were already made with devotions and admonishments were eagerly grabbed up and given to those who wanted to share romance and love.

In the 1840’s mass-printed Valentine’s Day cards became available in the United States when Esther A. Howland created her beribboned, laced cards.

One of my ALL TIME favorite poems about love was written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (and one of the reasons I took 18^th and 19^th century Lit in college), here it is:

How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)

How Do I Love Thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being an ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,- I love thee with the Breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!- and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

So, for those of you who are skeptics that Valentine’s Day was created to make those in the flower, chocolate, card and jewelry business money, YOU’RE WRONG. While those industries may very well benefit every February, this traditional holiday of expressing one’s romantic feelings dates back hundreds and hundreds of years. For those of you who can’t wait to find the perfect card, or to write the most wondrous poem, I bow to you. Keep the tradition alive and celebrate love to the fullest! But most of all, celebrate that we have the ability to love, and that in this modern age, we can voice it if we want to.

Happy Valentine’s Day! What will you do on this special day?

*****

Eliza Knight is the author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. She writes historical fiction under the pen name, Michelle Brandon. Visit her at www.elizaknight.com or http://historyundressed.blogspot.com

To celebrate Valentine’s Day and love, Eliza will be giving away an e-copy of the 3^rd book in her Men of the Sea series, a Regency historical novella, to one lucky commenter. Winner will be announced on Monday, Feb. 14^th.

Pursued by kidnappers, Lady Tessa Woodward is running for her life. When handsome Captain Jeremy Williams comes to her rescue in the backstreets of Paris, she persuades him to help her escape France and return to her home in England.

Captain Jeremy Williams is captivated by Lady Tessa's fiery nature and agrees to give her passage aboard his ship. Once on board, his desire grows and soon reveals a sensual side to the woman he can’t deny. But when danger threatens his lady, will the captain dare all to save her?

Beth Trissel on Groundhog Day

2011-02-02T04:52:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to welcome author Beth Trissel. Like Beth, I have a fondness for Groundhog Day...the prospect of some harbinger of the end of winter is always promising to me. And, I love the movie Groundhog Day. Bill Murray has always been one of my favorite actors, and his predicament in Punxsatawney was a great fun.

Punxsatawney Phil's prediction for 2011 is in - he did not see his shadow, so he's calling for an early spring. Let's hope Phil is right!

Beth's here with some fascinating information on Groundhog Day.

For some reason, not entirely sure why, I’ve always been a fan of Groundhog Day, maybe because it’s the first time when we can at least begin to contemplate spring. And I love spring. Plus it’s a fun, quirky sort of event/holiday when nothing else is happening and involves a furry critter. I also like the movie with Bill Murray. But back to the day, each winter, the quaint town of Punxsutawney, PA is host to thousands of visitors who wait two hours in line for the 3:00—6:00 AM shuttle to Gobblers Knob. Nine times out of ten that furry little marmot, Punxsutawney Phil, sees his shadow, and being easily alarmed, likely due to those overdressed guys snatching him from his snug home and jabbering to him in ‘groundhogease,’ he scurries back inside.

So, what does the famous Phil have to do with weather prediction? Groundhog Day is a direct descendent of Candlemas, an early Christian Holy day to bless and distribute candles, especially popular during those long dark winters. Somehow along the way, these cynical celebrants decided that clear skies on Candlemas meant a longer winter, which I never understood as I’d think one would be more inclined to hopefulness than if standing in a blizzard. But, oh well. By the time this tradition reached Germany, the groundhog and his shadow had entered the story. When the Germans came to Pennsylvania, they brought their traditions with them. Ever seeking an excuse for a party, these jolly folk came up with what we now celebrate as Groundhog Day.

That still leaves us with how Phil comes into it. According to the official website of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club, “in 1887, a spirited group of groundhog hunters from Punxsutawney dubbed themselves “The Punxsutawney Groundhog Club.” One member of the club was an editor of Punxsutawney’s newspaper. Using his editorial clout, he proclaimed Punxsutawney Phil, the local groundhog, to be the one and only official weather prognosticating groundhog. He issued this proclamation on, appropriately enough, Groundhog Day. Punxsutawney Phil’s fame began to spread, and newspapers from around the globe began to report Punxsutawney Phil’s Groundhog Day predictions. Today, 20,000 fans come to Punxsutawney on Groundhog Day to experience this unique—and fun—tradition. For more information about the evolution of Groundhog Day and the story of Punxsutawney Phil, visit Punxsutawney’s official Groundhog site”

For more on Author Beth Trissel my blog is the happening place: One Writer’s Way~

“Once in awhile, Right in the middle of an ordinary life,
Love gives us a fairy tale.”

Guest Author Paty Jager - How My World Shaped My Writing

2011-01-25T21:28:00.000-08:00

I'm so pleased to have Paty Jager as a guest today. Paty's a fellow Wild Rose Press author - the stories in her Halsey series are wonderful western romances that make you feel like you're in the arms of a hero. She's here to discuss how her experiences have shaped her writing. Leave a comment for a chance to win a pdf of one of the Halsey series books.

First off, thank you, Victoria for having me here today!

I’ve dabbled in different venues of writing over the course of my lifetime. First as a child writing plays for stuffed animals, then at thirteen writing stories of love and lust that my friends and I passed back and forth adding scenes, to witnessing what words can do when an English teacher read one of my assigned fiction projects to the class- all the way through writing children’s stories for my kids, writing murder mystery when I wanted to kill someone (killed that person off in two manuscripts), writing for the local paper when it fit my lifestyle, and then to finally settle into historical and contemporary western romance.

Each stage of my writing had to do with what was going on in and around me at the time so it only makes sense that I find myself writing about the western lifestyle. American History, specifically the 1800’s has always been my favorite subject. I love museums, historical sites, and finding bits of history that were so integral to life when this country was spreading and growing, becoming the wild west we all fantasize about .

I think having grown up in a semi-isolated part of the state that was slow to get technology it brought out the pioneer spirit in me. Until I was twelve, my paternal grandparents lived with us. There were seven people in a three bedroom, one bath farmhouse. We had a woodshed where we chopped kindling and stored the wood for the cookstove. When we did get an electric range we still had a wood heating stove and used the wood cookstove when the power went out which was fairly often when I was young. When the power went out we used kerosene and oil lamps, the outhouse, and hauled buckets of water to the house from the ditch. And it was usually in the winter that the power went out. And on many occasions the pipes from the well to the house froze, and we had to haul water to the house.

My family had a small herd of dairy cows and used an old hand crank separator to separate the milk from the cream. We used the milk for ourselves and the hogs we raised. We made our own butter from the cream and sold the rest to the creamery. We raised 100 chickens every year, butchering all but thirty, which were laying hens. I hated the smell of the wet feathers after you dunked them in the boiling water to loosen the feathers. And disemboweling them and cutting them up- I’d always offer to fold clothes, clean the bathroom or whatever other chore I could think of then spend hours smelling the feathers and butchered chickens. My grandmother sold extra eggs to neighbors and the local grocery store.

These are all events in my life that easily happened in the era that I write about. I can feel the woodstove, hear the clank of the metal plates as grandma put more kindling in the fire. Smell the acrid smoke that slipped through the chimney that went through my bedroom. I more or less lived the life I write about.

Now, the outlaws and heroes. Those are the characters I dreamed about while riding my horse in the Wallowa Mountains bareback, reclining with my head on my horse’s rump, staring up through pine trees at the blue sky accented by fluffy, white clouds. My heroes and outlaws were shaped by my over active imagination! They all thought I was gorgeous ( in reality I was an overweight child) So in my dreams I was slender and beautiful and had both the hero and the outlaw fighting over me.

And if you read my Halsey brother series, Marshal in Petticoats, Outlaw in Petticoats, Miner in Petticoats, and Doctor in Petticoats, you’ll see I've captured the western life and manipulated my heroes into falling in love with independent, intelligent women.

If you are a writer, what shaped the genre you write? If you are a reader, what is your favorite genre to read and why? I’ll pick a name from the comments and send the winner a pdf of one of my Halsey brother books.

You can read excerpts and blurbs on all my books at my website and enter my monthly contest.

Website: http://www.paytyjager.net

Blog: http://www.patyjager.blogspot.com

BuyLink: http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=19

Welcome Caroline Clemmons!

2011-01-13T22:13:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to welcome fellow author Caroline Clemmons as my guest today. As an author of a series beginning with Destiny and Angel in My Arms, I know firsthand how much fun (and how much of a challenge) it can be to develop characters over more than one book. Welcome, Caroline!

Recently, someone asked me about setting up a series. Sounds like a good segue for me to expound on my theories on series—pardon the alliteration. Readers, myself included, love series. We love seeing the initial characters evolve in the background as further books develop.

Occasionally, a writer will have such a great response to a secondary character that he/she decides to write a linked book featuring the character. This has happened to me with Finn in THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE; to Beth Trissel with Fergus in SOMEWHERE, MY LASS; and to Nicole McCaffrey with Kip Cooper in WILD TEXAS WIND. Love, love, love when that happens!

Usually, though, writers plan a series and incorporate one or two secondary characters who will make good heroes or heroines of a later book. I’ve done this with a series I’ve worked on featuring three brothers. This post is directed at others who want to write a series. Because characters and places will recur in two or more books, keep especially good records. This record is known as a writer’s bible (small case as opposed to the religious Bible) and contains everything about your setting and the people and places that occupy it. I even draw a map on a sheet of printer paper where I place businesses as I name them. A sheet of posterboard works even better if you’re planning a long series or a contemporary series where lots of buildings are involved.

I recently saw a great movie except for a major error. Initially, the home in which the main characters were housed was described as way outside of town. Later, the hero and heroine jogged to town, then later walked there. Okay, how far is “way outside town?” You don’t want your readers stopping to ponder questions like this. Be specific in your bible so there are no questions later. A writer I know once forgot the color eyes of a character on whom she wanted to base a book—three books after he was first mentioned. She persuaded a fan to reread her books and locate the character’s initial description.

To prevent errors is not difficult—at least this type error. Keep a list of characters with minimal identifying points: hair color, eye color, height, build, job, and age in the first book. As your series progresses, everyone must age at the same rate. Have you read a book series in which a child suddenly pops up as a teen or adult when the primary characters have aged only a year or so? Keep things as credible as possible.

In short, a few good records will prevent errors and headaches. We have enough of those in this volatile industry without creating our own. Now, please allow me to share the first book of my McClintock series, THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE. Here’s the blurb:

Cenora Rose O’Neill knows her father somehow arranged the trap for Dallas, but she agrees to wed the handsome stranger. She’d do anything to protect her family, and she wants to save herself from the bully Tom Williams. A fine settled man like Dallas will rid himself of her soon enough, but at least she and her family will be safely away from Tom Williams.

Texas rancher Dallas McClintock has no plans to wed for several years. Right now, he’s trying to establish himself as a successful horse breeder. Severely wounded rescuing Cenora from kidnappers, Dallas is taken to her family’s wagon to be tended. He is trapped into marrying Cenora, but he is not a man who goes back on his word. His wife has a silly superstition for everything, but passion-filled nights with her make up for everything—even when her wild, eccentric family drives crazy.

Here’s an excerpt from their wedding celebration:

Dallas raised his gaze where Aoife directed. Four girls danced, but only one drew his attention. Shoulders straight and feet flying, Cenora met his glance, then broke away from the other dancers to perform only a few yards from him.

Catcalls sounded nearby. She ignored them but gave a toss of her head. Her hair had come unbound, and her act sent her fiery hair awhirl. Light from the blazing campfire cast an aura-like radiance around her. Lantern glow overhead reflected her eyes sparked with merriment, challenge, and something mysterious he couldn’t name.

No longer the delicate china doll, her wild beauty called to him, mesmerized him. He visualized her brilliant tresses spread across a pillow, her milky skin bared only for him. His body responded, and savage desire shot through him. Surprised at the depth of his reaction, he wondered if her performance in bed would parallel the unbridled nature of her dance.

Good Lord, could this glorious woman truly be his wife? And if so, heaven help him, what on earth was he to do with her?

Buy link for THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE in print and e-book is from The Wild Rose Press, www.thewildrosepress.com/caroline-clemmons-m-638.html My books are also at Amazon and other online stores. Please visit my blog at http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com and my website at www.carolineclemmons.com I love to hear from readers at caroline@carolineclemmons.com Follow me at www.Facebook.com/CarolineClemmonsRomance, Twitter as @CarolinClemmons (no E after Caroline), Goodreads, and Amazon.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-24T16:08:00.000-08:00

Wishing everyone a very merry Christmas and a wonderful 2011! Hope everyone gets a new e-reader for Christmas...I'm hoping for a new one...my old faithful needs an upgrade.

Hugs!
Victoria