Editing an Old Friend - Cupid's Mistake

Almost done proofreading the scanned copy of Cupid's Mistake so that I can republish it as an e-book.

I haven't read it in years, and so I can edit with a good amount of detachment and objectivity. It feels, oddly, as if someone else wrote it, not me.  The good thing is that I believe it's a solid story. The bad thing is that part of me wonders whether I can write as well again after not writing a full-length novel for almost a decade.

I'd like to test the waters by entering some RWA contests, but I think because they won't let previously published authors enter unpublished work unless they've not been published for five years (my last novella--not a full-length novel--was published in 2010), I have to wait a total of 11 years before I can enter an unpublished work in one of those contests.

Yeah, I know, I should just write a new one and put it out there.  But times--and styles--change. I, personally, like my writing style, because the rhythm of it falls well on my inner ear. However, I am not so certain younger, more modern, ears are tuned to such sounds any more, if that makes any sense. As a result, I'd like to test the waters via a contest before I put a book out there.  But, I don't really want to wait more years to test the waters.

That said, it's nice revisiting the Hathaway family in Cupid's Mistake.  The Hathaways are a loving family--a bit eccentric, but all of them kind-hearted.  Even the matchmaking Lady Hathaway--ever ambitious for her children--is there with a hug and a shoulder to cry on should her children need it. There are a lot of dysfunctional families in novels, even in romance novels, and I've written more than a few of them. But the Hathaways are, I think, one of the few who are simply nice, caring people.  And that does make me happy.  It's like visiting old friends, and good-hearted friends at that.  :-)

Vampire Romance bestseller on Amazon

I'm happy to say that The Vampire Viscount hit #4 on Amazon's Kindle Bestseller list for vampire romances.  Thanks all of you readers out there for helping it get there!  As a result, I'm  extending the promo a bit (Amazon only allows me a couple of days of promo every few months).  As a result, it's now 60% off the regular price (down to 99 cents) until New Year's day.  Enjoy!

Happy Halloween! It's Heeeerrrre!

Yep, at last The Vampire Viscount is available as an ebook. It's been a long time since that book has seen light (so to speak) and as I went through it to clean out the OCR scan errors, I remembered it was controversial at the time (1995), and now we have vampires and werewolves everywhere, but I think it still holds up as a decent story.

 It's free, today only, at Smashwords.  And since I also honor All Saints Day (the day after Halloween), you can still get it free on that day, too.  All device formats are supported there--Kindle, Sony, Nook, etc.

It's also up at Amazon, although not free (99 cents). I think you have to join Kindle Select or something to change the price to zero or something, and I'm still working out the details on that.

Barnes and Noble...It will be up there, too, but the site that produces the ebooks has technical difficulties, and since I believe B&N is based in New York, it may well be that Hurricane Sandy is causing them some problems. If you are a Nooker (why does that sound so...hmmm.....) and can't find the ebook for download, e-mail me and I'll see if I can make it available to you at a special price after Halloween.

Anyway, enjoy!

Miss Carlyle's Curricle Available as eBook!

Signet is releasing many of their previously out-of-print Regencies in ebook form out of their Intermix "imprint."  (Is it really an imprint if it's not printed?  Hmm....the new dynamics of the ebook world....)  Today, my book, Miss Carlyle's Curricle is available at Penguin's Intermix site, for Apple iBooks, Barnes and Noble's Nook, Sony eReader, and Amazon's Kindle, among others.  I'm happy to say that it's available at the very affordable price of $2.99.

Want to read an excerpt?  Here it is, below:

Lord Brisbane ran his hand over a curve of the carriage in a contemplative manner. He glanced at her. “I understand this McKinney has been in your uncle’s employ for many years.” It was a statement, but with just a hint of a question in it.

Diana frowned. “If you are thinking of blaming McKinney for my uncle’s accident or of discharging him from his post, I would advise against it. The man has been employed here since my uncle was a very young man, and his service has been loyal and faultless. Indeed, he felt most deeply regarding the accident and proffered his resignation, which I refused to consider.”

Lord Brisbane glanced at her. “You?”

She blushed lightly; it was not her place to accept or decline a servant’s employment unless it was her own, personal, servant. “McKinney was distraught, and Uncle Charles had said more than a few times that my word was as good as his when it came to the stables,” she said stiffly. “If you must know, I directed him to Sir James, thinking he would be the heir.”

“Ah.”

That was all he said, an unassuming sound, but it made her very conscious that she had presumed, and presumed wrongly. “Sir James will not have discharged him, I am sure,” she said.

“Mmm hmm,” he said, gazing at her thoughtfully.

Diana shifted her feet uncomfortably. “I am sure McKinney is about somewhere. You may speak to him yourself.”

“Is he?”

“But of course. I saw him—” She stopped and realized she had not seen McKinney lately. “Surely Sir James did not....”

“There may be some other explanation for why McKinney is not here,” Lord Brisbane said.

Diana made herself look at him, but she could not hold his gaze long, for remorse hit her hard. “I have presumed a great deal,” she said. “And I was wrong to do so. I...I apologize.”

“Yes,” he replied, but there was no censure in his voice. She felt a finger under her chin and she stared at him. He smiled slightly. “Come, cousin, it is no tragedy. Let us be frank: I well know that your uncle’s wish that we wed was unexpected, and highly unusual. Would it be less awkward for you to know that I had no knowledge of it? I met your uncle only a year ago, when he first found me, and because of business our subsequent meetings were infrequent. Had I known of the conditions, I would have protested, of course. I am not certain why he decided we should suit, but he did, and made it nearly impossible for you not to comply.”

“Mama said it was perhaps the closest he could come to giving me the estate...he thought of me as a daughter, almost a son, I think.” His hand left her chin, and she looked down at her hands, then up at the earl again. “Then, too, perhaps he thought it the best way to take care of me and my mother.”

“I wonder, then, that he did not give you a larger annuity.”

She shook her head. “Uncle Charles was never one to reveal his reasons, and we had never real cause to ask, for our lives had always run smoothly while he was with us. I am sure everyone on the estate thought so.”

“Which makes me seem very much the interloper, I see,” Lord Brisbane said, smiling wryly. “Making it even more difficult to see me as a prospective husband and heir to the estate.”

Diana felt definitely guilty now, but made herself look directly at him. “Yes, that is true, and I am sorry for it. My uncle was held in highest esteem by everyone; it would be difficult to accept the presence of any heir, but to have a complete stranger makes it even more difficult.”

“Held in esteem by everyone? He had no enemies? No detractors?” Lord Brisbane shook his head and put on a morose expression. “I have a great deal to live up to, indeed. Most certainly I shall fail, and the estates will fall to ruin.”

Diana cast him a suspicious look, then laughed reluctantly. “You need not try to pull the wool over my eyes, my lord. I suspect you are quite capable of managing this estate, and it is no doubt one reason my uncle saw fit to want you to marry me.”

He raised his brows in question. “And how do you know?”

“I am honest enough to admit you are more perceptive than I had given you credit for. You talked of business—I suppose you were not precisely an idle man, for your hands are not as smooth as I suppose a dandy’s might be. Since your clothes are of a fine cut, I imagine your business endeavors were successful. I suspect you were in trade; you seem to be familiar with the making of carriages, or at least woodworking of some kind. Then you mention you were familiar with illnesses and healing.” She smiled slightly. “I imagine you must be engaged in some sort of merchant shipping. Such a business would at once give a man the opportunity for making a fortune”—she gestured at his Bath superfine coat—“thus enabling him to buy whatever he wishes in clothes, and give him the opportunities to learn of ships and their construction. The illnesses and healing—one would have to be more self-reliant regarding these things if one had to travel to foreign lands.”

“Well, well.” Lord Brisbane rocked back on his heels, then smiled widely. “I congratulate you, cousin; you are correct on all points. Very perceptive. I see it would not do to underestimate you.”

Diana grinned. “You are correct, my lord, it would not. Be warned!”

“I am grateful for the warning. You are a formidable woman, to be sure. It is a good thing I had not the intention of asking you to marry me; I had a distinct feeling it would displease you.” His voice was solemn, but she thought she saw his lips turn up for a moment.

“Very wise of you not to wish to propose to me, for you would be living under the sign of the cat’s foot, and no man could wish a marriage like that.” She shrugged off the feeling of discontent—she had never had a proposal before, why should she have one now, even if it had been dictated by Uncle Charles?—and turned to leave the carriage house. Lord Brisbane moved in step with her.

“Now there, cousin, your perception has failed you.” He gave her a small, crooked smile. “I wanted to marry you the moment I saw you, and have no fear at all of being henpecked.”

Diana stumbled, and Lord Brisbane’s hand came up under her elbow to steady her. She stared at him. “You jest, surely.”

“No, alas, I do not.” His smile widened, and his normally sleepy look had fled, replaced by sparkling mischief instead.

“You are jesting, and trifling with me,” Diana said, and marched toward the house. “Do not, for I dislike it, and as you said, I am a formidable woman, and could make more trouble for you than you could like.” She could not believe him, of course, but she did not repel him with her words as she could have; an irresistable curiosity as to what he would say next stayed her.

“Behold me trembling,” Lord Brisbane said, his long legs easily keeping up with her.

“Oh, you are odious!” She eyed him sternly. “You cannot have fallen in love with me, not in such a short time.”

“Love at first sight.”

Diana blushed. “Nonsense! There is no such thing.”
Lord Brisbane sighed. “So I thought, myself. But there you were, rain-soaked and beautiful, and I was instantly lost.”

“Lost on the road, not in any other wise,” she retorted. “You are making fun of me, for none of that can be true.”

“Of course it is true. You were definitely rain-soaked.”

“Oh, and you are in the habit of falling in love with rain-soaked women, is that it?”

“Not at all,” Lord Brisbane said. “However, if a woman is beautiful, that would certainly be an incentive.”

She frowned. “Now I know you are hoaxing me. I am not at all beautiful. I am too tall for that.”

“Not for me.”

Diana looked up at him—obviously this was true. “Well. . . well, then, I am not fashionable.”

“Fashion does not make for beauty.”

“Quite the contrary,” she said. “I have had my Season in London, and know that it’s your fashionable sylph who is much feted. Fashion does indeed dictate what is beautiful.” She wrinkled her nose. “I am not sylph-like; therefore I am not beautiful.”

He cocked his head and looked at her. “No one has ever admitted admiring you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, of course not.”

“More fool they.” He shot a quick, laughing glance at her. “No doubt they were intimidated by your formidableness.”

“I am not—” She stopped and closed her mouth, belatedly remembering that she had indeed agreed she was formidable. She gave him a sour look. “Believe me, I was as meek as my Aunt Matchett could make me.”

“Impossible,” he replied. “Nothing could subdue those magnificently flashing and scornful eyes—are they gray or blue? Blue, I believe.”

“They are pale blue,” Diana said firmly. “And they neither flash nor are they scornful.”

“No? They seem to be, now.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Only because you are the most provoking man imaginable.”

Lord Brisbane shook his head mournfully. “Worse and worse. First I am odious and now I am provoking. A very good thing I decided not to propose to you; you would have refused me immediately and I would have been cast into abject despair.”

“I doubt it,” Diana replied, banishing a slight feeling of discontent. “Count yourself fortunate: I am persuaded you would not wish to marry a woman you hardly know, and I would much rather live on a pittance than marry a complete stranger.”

His lordship’s expression lightened. “How gratifying to find you are not mercenary and not looking to marry a fortune or a title. Should I ever take it in my head to propose to you, I shall do so in happy confidence that your acceptance would come from your heart.”

“And if I were to decline?”

“There would be nothing for it but I must put a period to my existence,” Lord Brisbane said cheerfully.

Diana stopped, then turned to stare at him, her hands on her hips. “My lord, I think you must be the strangest man I have ever met.”

He appeared to consider her words seriously, then shook his head. “Since your sojourn in London was so short and you have grown up in the country most of your life, I cannot think your experience of men to be very great at all.” He smiled. “I am quite normal, truly.”

He had an answer for everything it seemed, but Diana’s annoyance with him was weak at best. She smiled slightly. This conversation was indeed the most peculiar she had had with anyone, but somehow her irritation was mixed heavily with a certain exhilaration. She had never traded quick and spirited words with a man before; her conversations in London had always been awkwardly constrained or excruciatingly polite. Indeed, she noted in surprise, the awkwardness she had when she first met this new Lord Brisbane had disappeared.

“You are smiling, I see,” he said. “But I assure you, no one has ever accused me of being odd.”

“Really?” Diana could not help chuckling. “I am surprised, my lord.”

How I write

Argh! My computer is in the shop now--I haven't been able to log onto the thing since Friday, hence the late response to "Ask Me Anything" Friday.

But, thank goodness for my iPad. Why I didn't think to use it earlier, I don't know. Duh. Anyway....

Anna H commented (via Facebook):

When noodling the idea for a new book, how detailed do you get, initially? I mean, do you outline the basic plot and characters and go from there, or do you have a germ of an idea and let it grow, taking you where it will?

I'm what's known as a "pantzer"--I usually go by the seat of my pants, or, as you say, I have a germ of an idea, let it grow, and then I go where it leads me. At the same time, I'm very conscious of a sense of structure underlying whatever it is that comes up. I know a story is ready and will work if I have that sense of structure, and most of the time, I find out it's sort of archetypal in nature, that is, I can usually find a myth or a fairy tale in the middle of it.

I don't mean something like Cinderella, although that did come up once (more like "Cinderfella"), and it didn't hit me until about half-way through the book what it actually was.

It all sounds rather disorganized, but to put a better word on it, it's "organic." :-)

That said, it's often helpful for me by the half-way point in the book to look back at what I've written already and see how well the story is structured. I use a five-point structure to analyze the story. If the story hits the right points in the structure give or take a page or two, then I know the pacing is going to be pretty solid.

Sometimes, I don't analyze the structure until I'm almost done, or even after I'm done. One of the dangers of analyzing too soon is that I lose the flow of the story, or I end up second-guessing myself, and I've come to learn that second-guessing myself is not a good thing. I really do have to trust that the Muse knows what she wants to say and to let her say it, no matter how odd or crazy it may seem. Or scares me silly. Seriously, there have been times I've thought while in the process of writing, "are you NUTS? NOBODY will buy this, it's way too out there." I remember thinking this back in 1995 when I had a vampire hero in a Regency England-set romance. Yeah, kind of a Jane Austen meets Dracula thing (not actually Jane Austen, but just imagine if one of Jane Austen's heroines had an arranged marriage with a vampire. Yeah, like that).

Years later, everyone was doing that kind of thing, so hey, not so crazy.

So these days, if the Muse gives me a crazy, irresistible idea, I try to go with it, because chances are good everyone will be doing it a few years later. :-) This happens a lot to me.

Which is why, when people ask me what trend they should be writing to, I tell them, whatever story grabs you and won't let you go, THAT'S the trend. Because chances are pretty good that if you're writing something that grabs you by the throat and won't let go, your Muse is telling you what will be the next big thing, and that you need to write it before it passes.

Signet Regencies

Before I started writing romance novels, I read an enormous number of books--I have, since childhood, and read every kind of book I could get my hands on.  I eventually found a friend in high school who also read a lot, and her favorites were romance novels, in particular Regency romance, and she introduced me to those.

Don't know what a Regency romance is?  Oh you poor dear.  Think Jane Austen.  Pride and Prejudice.  Sense and Sensibility.  Fun, romantic, often witty, and set between the years of approximately 1790 to 1820.

Check out Library Journal's description here:  http://www.libraryjournal.com/article/CA6413456.html

I took off on those like a rocket.  Had to get my teenaged hands on every kind I could find, from Georgette Heyer (the founder, essentially, of modern Regency romance) to Barbara Cartland.  I found, over time, where I could find my favorites, and that was within the covers of the Signet Regency imprint.  I ended up going to those Regencies by Signet first, then the others.  Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of wonderful authors writing for other imprints and publishers, but I could always depend on reading something different, yet still adhering to the Regency feel in a Signet Regency romance.  Signets became my mainstay into adulthood.

I think many Regency and historical romance fans can recognize the names that published with Signet Regencies:  Mary Jo Putney, Jo Beverley, Clare Darcy, Catherine Coulter, Sandra Heath, Barbara Hazard, Joan Wolf, Edith Layton, Marion Chesney (aka M.C. Beaton), Mary Balogh, Anita Mills, Amanda Scott, Laura Matthews (aka Elizabeth Neff Walker), Carla Kelly, Michelle Kasey (aka Kasey Michaels), Elisabeth Fairchild, Candice Hern, Elizabeth Mansfield, April Kihlstrom, Teresa DesJardien, and many more.  If you haven't read these authors' books, go forth, find, and read. For a complete list of Signet Regency authors and their Regency romances, here's a good web site reference:  http://www.thenonesuch.com/signet.htm

When I started writing romances, they naturally were Regency romances, the ones I liked the best.  And my ambition was to be a Signet Regency author, because those were my favorites.  I considered Signet to be the premier publisher of Regencies.  I could count on the history to be as accurate as possible, and the storytelling to be superb, with just a bit of the unexpected thrown in.  If I could achieve those ranks, it would be confirmation of the quality--in my mind, at least!--of my stories.

Eventually I did become a Signet author.  Of the eleven novels I have published, seven were with Signet.  Of the four novellas I've written, three were also with Signet.  To top it off, when I received a letter from one of my favs, Mary Jo Putney, complementing me on the first Signet Regency I had published, I just about cried and ran to tell my husband, I was that thrilled.  Not that he totally understood the significance of this, but he knew enough to give me a hug and congratulate me.  :-)

Unfortunately, in about March of 2006, Signet ceased publication of their Regency line.  For me, and for many others, it was a sad day in romance history.  No, not because I had been a Signet author, but because there are a limited number of Georgette Heyer and Jane Austen books around, and there has to be some way to feed the Regency-era habit.  For a Regency fan (e.g., me), it was a day for weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Well, I'm glad to say that Signet has revived the Signet Regency line, this time as ebooks.  These will include both out-of-print books as well as never-before-published Regencies.  You can find them at Penguin's Intermix site (Penguin is the publisher of the Signet imprint), or click on the "invitation card" at the top of this blog.

Will one of my books be e-published there?  Yes (Miss Carlyle's Curricle, sometime in July).  Will I totally spend my royalty check at this site?  No doubt.

Seriously, Signet should just have a buyer's account for me into which they deposit my royalty checks and out of which I can buy Regency romances.

A Special License is available at Regency Reads!

Description:  When the Earl of Rothwick mistakenly absconds with Miss Linnea Ashley, all he has to do is the honorable thing:  marry her.  But life is never as simple as that for a man as wrong-headed as Lord Rothwick, especially when his ex-fiancee Sophia becomes hell-bent on retribution.

You can find the book here:

http://www.regencyreads.com/bookstore/online/a-special-license-p-534.html?zenid=3gv3akh8log800mnl1cu394ar2

My second book was published by HarperCollins back in 1995, so is out of print.  I believe I have some paperback copies of this, so if anyone wants to read this book the old-fashioned way, let me know.

This is a traditional Regency romance.  It’s...somewhat humorous, and I have a somewhat quirky sense of humor that occasionally slides into the outrageous, so there’s no telling how it’ll come off to other people.  However, I enjoyed writing it, so I hope that comes through to whoever does read it.

I think it did, actually, because Romantic Times Book Club said this about it:

"...bright and shining talent...gleams with added lustre in this impeccably crafted Regency romance...(a) lively tale with the flavor of authenticity so valued by Regency connoisseurs, along with a fiery spark of passion sure to win every romance reader's heart."

Bless their romance-loving hearts.  :-)

Want to know what the book is like?  You can read an excerpt here:

http://www.regencyreads.com/bookstore/online/excerpts/a_special_license.html

And an extra excerpt here:

Well, well, thought Rothwick. Opportunity knocks.  

Although, if he had known at the outset that the woman was Paul's so-called inamorata, he would have left her to her fate. No doubt it was all some squabble about money or jewels.

He grimaced to himself, feeling the knuckles he had bruised on one man's jaw. Untrue. He could no more have let her be assaulted than if she were his own sister. In truth, no woman should be assaulted, regardless of what she was. Besides, he had not known who she was until he had seen her face. 

However, he could teach her a lesson. What an actress she was, to have claimed kinship with Lord and Lady Boothe, and with such an unconscious air! But she had slipped, and slipped badly. He had heard long ago that Lady Boothe was a woman of rigid propriety; he would bet his estates that she would never let a young female relative out of her sight or from the close proximity of one of her dragons. Much less would Lady Boothe let a female of her household walk alone at a time of night when only men and prostitutes dared appear. He felt himself confirmed that this woman was no innocent maiden at all, but as sly a bit of muslin as he had ever come across. 

Rothwick pursed his lips slightly, as if a sour taste had entered his mouth. He did not like liars. His past mistresses had been honest, making no claim to be anything other than they were. He would not bother making her his—but most certainly he would teach her a lesson. She would learn to stay away from members of his family. 

The earl turned up the carriage lamp and surveyed her in the dimness. She neither moved nor spoke during their ride, and though she was not deeply asleep, he thought she dozed. The lights made shadows under her closed eyes; she looked very tired. Rothwick shrugged. The light was muted, and if she was tired, it was no doubt from dissipation. Women grew old quickly in the oldest of professions, for all their knowledge of paints and lotions. 

The carriage slowed, and Rothwick could see that the Boothes' town house was near. He quickly made a decision. Leaning out of the door, he murmured a few words to Grimes. The groom's brows rose, but the man said nothing. The carriage continued down the street. Rothwick gazed at the woman, thinking about what he would do. Should he expose her charade at the nearest stopping place, or should he continue to his hunting box? He reviewed the various inns on the periphery of London and thought better of it. An inn was too public a place—if she set up a screech, it would cause no end of scandal, and he wanted to keep his—well, he would admit it—abduction of Miss Pickens quite private. It would have to be his hunting box. Once more he leaned out the door and gave his groom the new direction, then smiled to himself and settled back down on the carriage seat. 

When she finally opened her eyes, she sighed, looking around her for a few seconds. Her eyes rested on the earl and lost their sleepy vagueness, looking embarrassed instead. "I am truly sorry, sir—I think I actually slept for a while. Your carriage is remarkably well sprung." She laughed tentatively. "It must have been terribly dull for you. Was it long?" 

"No," replied the earl. "It was but a moment." He did not want her to know they had been traveling for more than half an hour. It would be most inconvenient if she made a fuss before they were out of London; indeed, he had hoped she would actually sleep. They were already at the outskirts of town, however, so it was not likely she would be able to make much headway in escaping if she did find out. He smiled briefly at her. "I do wish you would not call me 'sir' every time you address me. It is quite tiresome, you know." 

She blushed but said with a touch of spirit, "I can hardly address you otherwise, since I do not know your name." 

He raised his brows. "I am remiss; you must forgive me. I am William, Lord Rothwick, at your service." He inclined his head slightly. 

She returned his bow with quaint dignity, he noted with reluctant admiration. "I am honored, my lord. And I am—" 

"I know who you are, Miss Pickens. You have become quite well known to me." He laughed shortly. 

"Pickens?" she said. "I am afraid you are mistaken; I am not Miss Pickens, I am—" 

"Come, come, my dear—shall I call you Cassey? No matter. There is no need to pretend you are other than you are. I know what you were up to with my nephew, Paul. He may still be wet behind the ears, but I am not. I have had experience with your sort, and I needed only to look at Paul's expression when he escorted you that day to see he was almost secured in your trap." 

"Of—of my sort?" She looked confused. "What can you mean? And who is this Cassey? It is not I, I assure you, my lord. My name is Linnea—" 

"Really, Miss Pickens," Rothwick drawled. "I concede you are a good actress, but did you really think you could fool me with that story about Lady Boothe? It does your case no good to change your name, either." He leaned back in a leisurely manner. "It was a good story—one I have heard before, however—though the invention of a relationship between you and Lady Boothe was a bold stroke, I must say! But I happen to know Her Ladyship is extremely strict in her observance of the proprieties, and would never let a young woman of her household leave without escort. So, my dear, why don't we dispense with this unnecessary pretense and engage in some pound dealing, shall we?" He smiled genially. 

Her face was the picture of stunned astonishment, and she seemed bereft of words. Really, he thought with a touch of irritation, she was an excellent actress, but he would prefer she be open with him now. 

"But—but, I assure you, sir, I am not who you think I am," she managed to croak. She cleared her throat and said more calmly, "Please, you need only let me down at Lady Boothe's and she can identify me." 

He laughed. "And have you make a run for it?" She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand. "Or, no. You seem to be an imaginative young woman.... Let's see. You will be so bold as to approach Lady Boothe and demand her presence. She will not recognize you, and you will then protest that she is against you and seeks only to cast you out from her house." 

The young woman opened her mouth again, only to shut it. A hopeless look came over her face. "But, my lord, she must acknowledge me!" she whispered. "I am her kin, after all." She seemed almost to be talking to herself. He could see she was on the edge of giving up her act. 

"Come now. You know she wouldn't," he said soothingly. 

She looked at him as if bewildered. "But wait—wait! Am I to assume from this conversation you are not taking me to Lady Boothe's?" 

"No, I am not." 

She half rose from her seat. "Then where—" She stared at him in horror. "You must be mad! You cannot just—just abduct someone and carry her off!"

"Your presence here proves that I can." 

"No. I cannot go with you, it's impossible!" 

"What, another assignation with a... er... paramour? Or is it Paul?" 

Her gaze was one of incomprehension. "Paul? What has Paul to do with all this?" 

"So you are on a first-name acquaintance with him, are you?" 

"Why, yes, I have known him for a good while." 

"Your mask slips further and further, Miss Pickens. There is no one in Lady Boothe's household who is closely acquainted with Paul." 

She pressed herself into the seat, away from him. "You jump from one thing to another! You must be mad or—or full of drink! I cannot see why you chose to abduct me and then talk of people I don't know, and acting as if I should!" 

"People you don't know," mocked Rothwick. "You just said you knew my nephew!" His distaste grew. She was playing the innocent maiden role, an act that often lent some spice to other men's pursuit of women, but it was one he detested. 

"Ah, sir! Why do you do this to me?" she exclaimed. She looked about her wildly. "You must be mad—or I! I cannot go with you!" She jumped up and seized the carriage handle, tearing open the door. 

She moved so swiftly that she was halfway out of the moving carriage before he seized her about the waist and pulled her back in again. From out the swinging carriage door, Rothwick could see the quick flashes of reflected moonlight on the road's rocks and pebbles. She could have been killed. He turned his head and looked at her. She had fallen against him, and he still had one arm around her waist and a hand clamped around her wrist. She breathed in small gasps, and he could feel how thin her wrist was in his hand and how little flesh covered her ribs that were pressed against him. Her eyes looked up into his, and in the turned-up carriage lights he could see a spark of defiance beneath the fear and fatigue in her eyes.

The horrible suspicion that had risen in Rothwick's mind when the woman had gone for the door now turned into certain consternation. Women of the demimonde may act the unwilling maiden to tantalize, but they soon gave way to seduction at the end. They did not try to escape into what might have been death or at least severe injury. 

"Who are you?" he whispered tersely. He let go of her waist and let her down gently on the seat opposite him. 

She pushed herself into the corner away from him, her hands clutching the cushions. "I am Linnea Ashley. I live with Lady Boothe, my—my cousin. She lacked a footman to send a message to Lady Strahan, and she sent me instead."

"Oh, my God." Rothwick sank his head into his hands and wearily ran his fingers through his hair, pulling a little. He glanced up at Miss Ashley. "You can stop trying to wedge yourself into the woodwork. I don't ravish women, much less ladies of quality." She relaxed a little but kept a wary eye on him. "Please," he amended. 

She lifted her chin mutinously. "You might change your mind," she said. "Indeed, I do not know what you will do next."

"Surely you don't take me for a madman—yes, well, I see you do." He sighed. "I assure you, I am quite sane. You see, I, ah, I thought you were someone else, and was trying to teach her a lesson." The excuse sounded weak even to his own ears.

"How flattering." Her voice was sarcastic, but she unclenched her hands from the upholstery.

The Marriage Scheme available on Amazon!

The Marriage Scheme is now on Amazon, and can be downloaded to your Kindle.

Which is motivation for me to get the next one out there.  And write more books.  And revise more!  I have one book that never got published that was going to be called "Midnight Surrender," and I really need to go over it and fix it.  It's very dark, and I don't think I want it to be that dark, because the world needs a bit more levity these days.  Plus, there is such a thing called "comedic relief."

There are so many things I want to write, now that there is this new territory called "e-publishing" to explore.  I love the novella form, so I'd love to write more of those.  Also, I'd like to write the continuing adventures of Arabella Templar and William Marstone (from "Miss Templar and the Holy Grail"), as well as of Anna Vanderzee and the samurai-ryu-kami Nakagawa (from "Anna and the King of Dragons").

So...gotta get crackin'!

The Marriage Scheme is now available!

My out-of-print book The Marriage Scheme (a Regency romance) is now available as an ebook at Regency Reads!  

This is the first book I wrote.  I started writing it 25 years ago, and finished the month my son was born--both a nine-month process. Funny how the creative process mirrors the process of childbirth.  :-D

Seven years later, it was published by HarperCollins in 1994.  Had I known what I know now, I would have sent it out for publication earlier.  Which all goes to show that the idea that "first books don't sell" is really, really wrong.