Video of the Day
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Wistful Wednesday
Whispered by Margay Leah Justice at 6:33 AM 5 Moonbeams (comments)
Craters: ideas, inspiration, Margay Leah Justice, pulling words out of the air, the art of writing
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Tantalizing Tuesday
the day without having to actually live back in the day (one of the
big disadvantages to time travel, should it actually ever be
invented). I like running water. Hot running water.
Sometimes, readers, reviewers, or critics will make a disparaging
comment about the way historical romance novels are peopled with more
dukes than have ever been created in England's rather lengthy history.
As someone who has studied that history, I know the critics are right.
But I don't care. Sure, if my research tells me that there weren't
many unmarried dukes who qualified for the lead role of hero in a
romance I have to admit I'm taking liberties. But so are my heroes, so
I just have to hope that readers forgive me.
There are many aspects of Victorian England that interest me.
Victoria, for one. Became Queen because her uncles were not that good
at passing on the genes, married a man she loved, had nine children,
worn mourning for the rest of her life after her husband died at a
relatively young age. Reputedly loved her stable master in her later
years.
But the other thing that has always fascinated me about Victorian
England was the idea that an Earl, or a Duke, or a Marquess, inherits
a heavy mantle of duty, responsibility and history with each
successive generation. What does that do to a person, to know that
you're "it"? You represent the family motto, every ancestor in the
portrait gallery, and your people in the House of Lords. Sure, it
comes with power, but it also comes with responsibility (if you're the
hero).
Of the seven books in my Once Upon a Wedding series, half have peers
for heroes (despite my agreement with the critics that I'm stretching
history almost to the breaking point). The Fairy Tale Bride has the
upright Duke of Kerstone who doesn't think he is a worthy living
representation of his family motto. The Star-Crossed Bride has
Valentine the penniless Baron who really should marry for money not
love. The Next Best Bride has an earl in line to inherit a marquisate,
but with no money of his own unless he can marry and produce an heir
to satisfy his grandfather the current marquess. The Twelfth Night
Bride has an Irish peer -- a conundrum in its own right -- who hasn't
got a lot of use for the English, though he does have a seat in
Parliament.
Each of these heroes fascinates me, and each represents one way I
think a person might react to inheriting such weighty responsibility:
the Duke of Kerstone is impeccably proper and ready to die to keep the
dukely bloodline true; Valentine has six sisters to marry off, but he
still finds time to rescue his lady love, even though she isn't going
to bring any funds with her to the marriage; the unrepentantly rakish
earl is planning to gamble and drink himself into an early grave to
avoid the responsibilities of his title; the Irish peer is determined
to use his title to get a little justice. Everyone reacts differently
to power, but most people don't inherit it, they earn it, or are given
it by people who trust them whether they deserve it or not.
Not the dukes and marquesses and earls in historical romances. They
get the weight on their shoulders from birth (except the ones who get
it dropped on them unexpectedly when they didn't really think they'd
inherit…kind of like Victoria herself, come to think of it). They
don't get to do a thing without knowing that it will reflect on their
family honor and legacy. It was fun to think about what that must feel
like (without having to actually having to live with that kind of
weight, of course).
And, since my novels are historical romances, there are the women who
would marry men with such heavy responsibilities on their shoulders. I
wouldn't do it myself. To have to behave impeccably because I'd
tarnish my husband's 400 year old family reputation? No thank you. But
it was fun to imagine what kind of woman could love these men, and
bring them a measure of happiness amidst all the responsibility (not
to mention straighten out their thinking where the weight of the title
had warped it a bit).
And then, of course, I got to escape all that with the other three
books -- sending one heroine off to Boston and another onto the Oregon
Trail. And sending one haring off across England in search of Malory's
Morte d'Artur with her scholarly hero.
My own family can trace our roots back to Ireland, but there aren't
any queens or kings, or even knights in the family line. Just people
who worked the land for the dukes and earls and barons. (History
tidbit: earls and barons are the oldest titles, dukes were almost
exclusively royal for a long time after they were created, and
marquesses and viscounts were added for gradation purposes).
I know some writers like the power part of the title. Me, I like to
flip over the power side and see what's underneath. If I had to
choose, I'd be a Duchess. A boring, and very responsible duchess, who
made everyone call her Your Grace, even the Duke.
Kelly McClymer's The Fairy Tale Bride is on sale for 99 cents until
July ends to help raise funds for her daughter's wedding (a weighty
responsibility she tried not to shoulder -- but when push came to
shove, elopement just didn't seem like as good an idea in practice asit sounded in theory).
Twitter: kellymcclymer
FaceBook: http://facebook.com/
LinkedIn: http://linkd.in/jRqm8P
Whispered by Margay Leah Justice at 8:26 AM 5 Moonbeams (comments)
Craters: Fairytale Brides, Kelly McClymer, Margay Leah Justice, Regency romance, Victorian England
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Twilight Thursday
I tend to hang on to a lot of things. Pictures. Jeans that I swear that I'll be able to get back into once I lose ten pounds. A prairie skirt that I'm convinced is going to come back in fashion.
But mostly, I hoard words. And word-related things. As a writer, I'm constantly doing research, filing ideas and images in the back of my mind. Sometimes, that manifests in the physical world. And an odd collection of things begins to grow at my desk.
First are project notebooks. I keep an old-fashioned paper notebook for each book I write. They're largely illegible, containing scribbled notes and outlines, pasted scraps of articles, and bent photos. But I know where everything is. It gives me a sense of accomplishment to see how I've progressed through the project - all my finds are marked with a date. They are, in their ways, journals.
Next is the inspiring artwork. My desk is made of an old six-panel door placed across a couple of file cabinets. I've covered the top with glass to give me a smooth writing surface and to allow me to slip treasures underneath. When I start on a new project, I change the artwork. Nearly anything can find its way into that collection: Tarot cards, calendar pictures, magazine clippings. They may be silent, but they help inspire words in some way or other.
Finally, there's the tactile debris of the project, strewn across my desk...well, until a cat finds it and absconds with it. This collection is ever-changing. It can include anything from coins to feathers, and bits of sea glass. I now have a cluster of clear quartz perched beside my keyboard. I picked it because it reminds me of a setting in my work in progress. I find myself absently stroking it when I edit, like a spiny worry stone.
I know that I'm finishing a story when the desk is full. When I can visualize the world and characters in all their detail, just by flipping through pages or letting my fingers roam over the space.
There's a certain amount of sadness when a project is finished. I clear out the knickknacks. I take the pictures out from under the glass. I file my tattered notebook on the shelf, take out a crisp new one with unmarked pages and place it on the desk.
It's a blank slate. A new beginning. A little scary.
But then something new catches my eye.
It's an oddly-speckled rock. It looks like an egg.
I place it at the center of my desk. It's the beginning of a new hoard of words.
--
Alayna Williams (a.k.a. Laura Bickle) has worked in the unholy trinity of politics, criminology, and technology for several years. She lives in the Midwestern U.S. with her chief muse, owned by four mostly-reformed feral cats. Writing as Laura Bickle, she's the author of EMBERS and SPARKS for Pocket - Juno Books. Writing as Alayna Williams, she's the author of DARK ORACLE and ROGUE ORACLE. More info on her urban fantasy and general nerdiness is here: www.salamanderstales.com
--
Blurb for ROGUE ORACLE:
The more you know about the future, the more there may be to fear.
Tara Sheridan is the best criminal profiler around - and the most unconventional. Trained as a forensic psychologist, Tara also specializes in Tarot card reading. But she doesn't need her divination skills to realize that the new assignment from her friend and sometime lover, Agent Harry Li, is a dangerous proposition in every way.
Former Cold War operatives, all linked to a top-secret operation tracking the disposal of nuclear weapons in Russia, are disappearing. There are no bodies, and no clues to their whereabouts. Harry suspects a conspiracy to sell arms to the highest bidder. The cards - and Tara's increasingly ominous dreams - suggest something darker. Even as Tara sorts through her feelings for Harry and her fractured relationships with the mysterious order known as Delphi's Daughters, a killer is growing more ruthless by the day. And a nightmare that began decades ago in Chernobyl will reach a terrifying endgame that not even Tara could have foreseen…
ROGUE ORACLE is available now from Amazon.com - http://www.amazon.com/Rogue-Oracle-Alayna-Williams/dp/1439182817/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1289449573&sr=8-1
and Barnes & Noble - http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Rogue-Oracle/Alayna-Williams/e/9781439182819/?itm=1&USRI=rogue+oracle
Whispered by Margay Leah Justice at 10:20 AM 10 Moonbeams (comments)
Craters: Alayna Williams, hoarding words, Margay Leah Justice, Rogue Oracle
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Wistful Wednesday
I wanted the hero of my new book, Deceptive Behavior, to be considered a bit strange by “society,” and so one of the ways I did that was to give him a tremendous aversion to London. For those of you not familiar with Regency romances, it would be like making a movie star allergic to Hollywood. It’s the center of the universe and everyone who’s anyone has to spend at least part of their time there.
But my hero is a bit odd.
He has his own reasons for disliking the city, but I thought today I’d share a Regency tourist’s impression of London – I think in many respects the tourist concurs with my hero.
“London does not strike with admiration,” he begins. While he admits the best parts of town are clean and convenient, he adds that “the site is flat; the plan monotonous; the predominant color of objects dingy and poor.”
Until I read this, I did not realize “dingy” was a color. Someone should notify the Crayola people.
My “tourist” is Louis Simond, a French émigré to America who titled his observations “An American in Regency England.” Since he could compare London to Paris in great detail, he was not a typical American, starting with the fact that most Americans did not have the time or money to tour England from December of 1809 to September of 1811. He is certainly not a Jed Clampett and he is not awed by being in one of the biggest cities in the western world as a more provincial American would be. For example, he complains that “[a]t night, you have eternal rows of lamps, making the straightness of the streets still more conspicuous and tiresome. This palpable immensity has something in it very heavy and stupifying.”
Most American towns had almost no streets, let alone streetlamps. So where most Americans might have said “wow!” at the sight of so many long rows of flickering lamps, Simond says “ho hum.”
He finds the Tower of London similarly unimpressive – “an irregular collection of buildings” which included a strong room with the crown jewels and menagerie that was “small, ill-contrived, and dirty.”
So what did he like about London? Well he liked shopping, but he mostly liked the jewelry stores because he was glad he had no urge to buy anything in them. (His wife’s feeling about this issue are not recorded.) The only thing he mentions buying is a snack. The pastry shops were a big hit with Simond. The other thing he liked? Let’s get another quote. “The breweries of London may justly be ranked among its greatest curiosities,” he notes, and then he goes on to describe the enormous tanks in great detail.
So here we have it, a guy’s view of sightseeing: the scenery is boring, I’m hungry and hey, did you see all that beer?
Fashions may change, but people apparently don’t.
Thanks for reading!
Kate Dolan writes historical fiction and romance under her own name and contemporary mysteries and children’s stories under the name K.D. Hays. Her latest book, Deceptive Behavior is part of a “Love and Lunacy” series about people who makes lots of bad choices. She blogs about history, fitness and other topics on her website at http://www.katedolan.com.
Book Blurb:
Geni Bayles has made some pretty poor choices when it comes to men. So she finally agrees to meet the suitor her mother has chosen, a painfully shy baronet from the country. When she encounters Sir Richard Latimer, however, she finds him witty, considerate and charming—but only because he thinks she’s a maid. She decides to continue the deception just long enough to learn his true personality.
Richard knows he has a duty to marry a rich woman to restore the estates on which so many people depend. But he would give anything to marry a fun, clever girl like the maid he’s just met. And just kissed.
He’s fallen for the right girl for the wrong reason. She’s made the wrong move for the right reason. They just might be perfect together—if it weren’t for the complete lack of trust.
______________________________________________
Link:
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9447-deceptive-behavior.aspx
______________________________________________
Excerpt, if you have room:
“Goodnight, Lady Latimer,” Richard whispered as he slipped away from her.
“You’re leaving?
He nodded. “You have said you do not trust me.”
“What if I changed my mind?” her voice sounded unusually deep and husky.
“You would need a solicitor and three witnesses.”
“What?”
“You are not in a proper state to know your own mind at the moment, let alone to change it.”
“Are you saying I’m…that I am…” Damn, what was the word she was looking for?
“Foxed, yes.”
“That wasn’t the word. I meant incompetent.” That was the word that frequently came up in conversations about members of the Wright family.
“That too, if you prefer.”
“I resent your implication.”
“I would so much rather you resent my words than resent me.”
She turned away from him, crossing her arms against her chest. “Well I resent you both.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“I am too.” Now she had to fight back tears. Her advances were rejected by her husband on her wedding night. What could possibly be more degrading?
Warm arms wrapped around her from behind. “You cannot possibly regret this any more than I do,” he said in a low voice.
“Then stay.” Her voice cracked.
He sighed, a deep sound full of longing. “You will understand tomorrow.” His breath made the back of her neck tingle.
She leaned back against him, but he gently pushed her away. “I must go.”
“But it’s our wedding night.”
“Which means nothing if you do not trust me.”
“But I said I do trust you now.”
“Goodnight, my love.”
“You cannot call me your love and then leave.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closed.
Geni flung herself on the bed and hurled her nightrail and dressing gown to the floor. She didn’t need a husband to help her undress. She didn’t need a maid to help her. She could…
She pulled the coverlet over her. She could sleep in her clothes.
_______________________________________________
And as an extra treat, I have a summer video suggestion:
“If You Leave Me, Can I Come To?”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSGtg26-TpU
Sort of fits the desperation of a romance novel, IMHO!
Whispered by Margay Leah Justice at 8:28 AM 19 Moonbeams (comments)
Craters: Deceptive Behavior, Kate Dolan, Margay Leah Justice, Regency
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Wistful Wednesday
Whispered by Margay Leah Justice at 10:47 AM 10 Moonbeams (comments)
Craters: Leah Hultenschmidt, Margay Leah Justice, pitching your book, Savvy U, Sourcebooks
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Wistful Wednesday
Whispered by Margay Leah Justice at 9:42 AM 9 Moonbeams (comments)
Craters: Casey Anthony trial, Margay Leah Justice, nightly news
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Starlight Saturday
I was in the middle of writing a completely different book, a historical set in Hawaii that I am still plugging away on, when this insistently horny wife popped into my mind’s eye while I should have been refining my chapter outlines. Susanna was lying in her bathtub, holding a prognosticating Magic Eight ball, and asking it ridiculously erotic questions involving activities to try with her workaholic husband. Well, she would not leave me alone, and so in very short order her story came out as Magic Eights.
It’s a fun, steamy romp for me, different then a lot of my books. Most of my books are historicals with lots and lots of heavily researched plot. This is sex, sex and more sweet, hot sex. It’s the magic-enhanced dream world of a happily married couple, and it was so much fun to write. Susanna has finally left me alone, but her friend Esme is bugging me now. She’s the witch who gave Susanna that enchanted Magic Eight ball as an anniversary present, and now she wants her own story told. I have a feeling that my Hawaiian epic is going to get interrupted again!
Still, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I often have two or three manuscripts going at any one time, and countless short flash fictions and drabbles. The more I write, the more I write, and I like to keep my mind agile with whatever is flowing the best. At the moment my main projects are that infamous interrupted Hawaiian story, which is part of my Passion Magi series along with Enchant the Dawn, Reveal the Heart, Foretell the Flame and Command the Wind. Competing for my writing attention is a very cool tale of demigods and would-be vampires set in 1880’s London, with a five thousand year old heroine and a snarky thermodynamics professor. And finally, there’s the first stirrings of Esme’s tale, which is shaping up to be a whole lot of fun.
I’ve got a whole huge file of story ideas, and characters that occasionally pop into the forefront of my mind and demand that I scribble notes about them on paper napkins, the back of envelopes, or the always useful palm of my hand. After all, I’ve got a day job, or two, and I’m a mom and a wife, and I’ve got to grasp on to inspiration when it comes and hold on tight to the heart and soul of it before it disappears back down into the chaos of the everyday.
I hope you check out Magic Eights when it comes out next week, but if you just can’t wait to take a look at my writing, a lot of my older books on are sale right now at Amazon and All Romance eBooks! And my recent releases Mask of Ice and the anthology Some Like it Sweet, deliver more hot and sweet romance with a touch of magic.
Want to know more about my writing and me? Check out my webpage at www.elainelowenovels.com, or connect with my on Twitter. I’m elainelowe there, and I tweet about anything and everything, although I promise I won’t give a play by play of how I brush my teeth, but you might see pictures of my latest goggles I’ve acquired for my steampunk Dickens costume, or get a hot and juicy quote from whatever manuscript I’m working on at the moment. I also love to hear comments, ideas and input from readers, so drop on in and say howdy or send me an email at elalowe@gmail.com. Have fun and keep reading!
Elaine Lowe
Blurb for Magic Eights:
A casual wish by a frustratingly horny wife and a most unexpected bit of magic results. Susanna walks into her kitchen to see two copies of William, her husband of eight years. When they both seduce her, she’s helpless to resist. Who would want to? When another copy walks in and makes love to her, and another, she ceases to ask why, only, how much can she take?
Seven copies, one original and all of them want to push her to the very brink. Can she handle them all? Sinful satisfaction is the best anniversary present, and eight is Susanna’s lucky number.
Whispered by Margay Leah Justice at 9:08 AM 6 Moonbeams (comments)
Craters: Elaine Lowe, Honey Bee Promotions, Magic Eights, Margay Leah Justice