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Author of historical romance, mysteries and young adult stories.
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SEVEN NIGHTS OF SIN
One night, one tryst can change everything...
Seven Sensuous stories by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Sabrina York, with bestselling and award-winning authors Maggi Andersen, Lynne Connolly, Eliza Lloyd, Suzi Love, Hildie McQueen, and Victoria Vane. Enter a world of passion and mystery where dashing heroes and dauntless heroines come together in a scorching conflagration that will will tip your world on its end.
LUSCIOUS by Sabrina York
Revenge...or redemption? Which will he choose?
ONE SCANDALOUS NIGHT by Maggi Andersen
Can one night with a rake be enough for a lifetime?
THE DEVIL YOU KNOW by Victoria Vane
She found heaven in the devil’s arms.
UNDER A SILVER MOON by Hildie Mcqueen
The shadows of the past fall over a man and a woman attempting to start anew.
MY DEAR MR. FORRESTER by Eliza Lloyd
He can't resist a woman in trouble. Will he ever learn?
WHAT HE WANTS by Lynne Connolly
Love hides in unexpected places...
PLEASURE HOUSE BALL by Suzi Love
Love revealed at a courtesan’s ball.
BUY LINKS:
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ONE SCANDALOUS NIGHT by MAGGI ANDERSEN
Can one night with a rake be enough for a lifetime?
Miss Bella Lacey desires to accomplish two things before settling into an unfulfilling marriage to the man her father has chosen. First, she intends to inveigle a goodly amount of money for her orphans from a man of means, and second, to have one night of passion to help her endure the dreary years ahead.
When Derrick, Lord Eaglestone, a wealthy viscount with a scandalous reputation, agrees to donate to Miss Lacey’s charity, he has only seduction in mind. Little does he suspect that Miss Lacey has already chosen him to debauch her before she weds another. The lady has virtually fallen into his lap, but much to his annoyance, he finds himself reluctant to oblige her.
Excerpt coming!
Released: March 14th 2016!
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Enjoy an excerpt from Stirring Passions by Maggi Andersen
Kate had walked for an hour. Grey clouds had drifted in from the horizon, the air heavy with the expectation of more rain. Hot and sticky, she stopped to swat a persistent bluebottle and spied juicy blackberries on the bushes along the river. She pulled off her bonnet and tucked up her dress, exposing her half boots and legs up to the knee, confident no one was there to disapprove. Then she clambered down the steep bank. She was absorbed with picking the ripest berries whilst avoiding the prickles, her fingers stained purple, when a horse nickered. She swung around. A rider had stopped to watch her.
Kate tugged her gown down over her legs. The rider was undoubtedly a gentleman. His tan riding coat hugged his broad shoulders in a fashion only a Bond Street tailor could produce. Kate eyed his glossy riding boots and, though she generally cared little for her appearance, hid her stained fingers behind her back.
The black stallion pawed the ground, its nostrils steaming. The man’s dark brows rose in inquiry, and his grey gaze swept over her, making her more aware of her disheveled appearance. A muscle quivered in his jaw. “What are you doing on my land?” She stared at him. “Your land?”
“I am Lord Broughton from the Hall.” His expression made her suspect he thought her simple.
Kate picked up her skirts and climbed back to the path, vexed, when she noticed the blackberry stain on a flounce her mother’s sharp gaze would find. “How can I be sure you’re telling the truth?” she said, annoyed with his attitude.
At her approach, the Arab stallion snorted and danced back. The man steadied his mount, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “As I carry no identification with me, you shall have to take my word for it. Are you a servant from Firth Manor?”
Insulted, Kate pulled her bonnet straight. Jutting out her chin, she managed to look the rather fearsome Lord Broughton directly in the eye without flinching. “I am Katherine Kilgarth of Roseheath Manor.” She pointed in an easterly direction with one berry-stained finger. “My home is but two miles away over that hill.” Curiosity got the better of her. “Are you about to reopen Broughton Hall? The house has been boarded up for years. No one has lived there for as long as I can remember.”
The stallion stamped its feet, a big black eye on her, which she fancied was filled with impatience. Lord Broughton merely rested his hands on the pommel. “That cannot be so long ago, Miss Kilgarth.” He nudged his chin back along the path. “Do you come this way often? Why?” There was a slightly teasing note in his voice that seemed at odds with the aloofness of his expression.
“It’s a shortcut when I visit the Manor. Surely, my small presence can’t bother anyone,” Kate said pointedly. She was beginning to feel like a poacher. “But if it does, please be assured I shall walk the long way around in the future.”
“So, my blackberries will be safe from further assault?”
Kate flushed. She glanced at him from beneath her bonnet. Was there the suggestion of a smile hovering about his mouth?
“Good day to you then, Miss Kilgarth. I daresay we shall see more of each other, village life being what it is.” He lifted his hat to reveal a thick thatch of coal-black hair. He was a Broughton all right. She’d seen a portrait of his father with the same hair and grey eyes.
Kate had little time to respond, as he’d given the powerful horse its head and galloped over the rise to disappear amongst the beech trees of the home wood. She trudged along the path, cursing her scruffy appearance. A man such as he would think her a rustic. Next time, she would wear her new spotted muslin with the yellow sash. But there would be no next time. He had been quite insistent about that. And he had not answered her question. Would he rebuild the west wing of the Hall? The village would be alive with gossip. She’d accompany her mother when she went shopping this afternoon.
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Sensual heat melts the ice in the new Disgraced Lords novel from USA Today bestselling author Bronwen Evans, as a marriage of convenience leads to delightful pleasure—and mortal danger.
Lady Marisa Hawkestone’s nightmare is just beginning when she wakes up naked, with no memory of the night before, lying next to Maitland Spencer, the Duke of Lyttleton—a man so aloof and rational he’s nicknamed “the Cold Duke.” A scandal ensues, in which Marisa’s beloved beau deserts her. As a compromised woman, Marisa agrees to marry Maitland. But on her wedding night, Marisa discovers the one place the duke shows emotion: in the bedroom, where the man positively scorches the sheets.
Taught from a young age to take duty seriously, Maitland cannot understand his new wife’s demands on his love and affection. Marisa’s hot-blooded spirit, however, does have its attractions—especially at night. In retrospect, it seems quite silly that he didn’t marry sooner. But being one of the Libertine Scholars requires constant vigilance, even more so when the enemy with a grudge against his closest friends targets Marisa. Now Maitland must save the woman who sets his heart aflame—or die trying.
REVIEW:
Not a light romance, this is the story of one of the Libertine Scholars, Maitland Spencer, the Duke of Lyttleton and Lady Marisa Hawkestone. A remote man, Maitland's nature has been formed by a bitter childhood. He keeps himself on a tight rein, from which his lady wife is determined to free him. Marisa, an emotional, loving lady, seeks intimacy and struggles to understand the man she is forced to marry after being compromised. Tragedy strikes when the two join forces to counter a dangerous foe.
The powerful story gives readers that HEA, but when it comes it is not what one might expect. There's a lot of heartbreak and action in this one. The well-drawn characters are flawed but are loyal friends who back each other up when need be, and work together to find the mysterious lady who is a blight to their lives.There are several riveting, love scenes that sizzle!
I did question one small thing and that was Maitland permitting Marisa to take part in a dangerous escapade. It's merely a quibble though, and did not spoil my enjoyment of the book.
Evans has a unique style and richly deserves all the accolades.
AmazonSmashwordsKobo She fled Ireland because her life was in danger, now her troubles are worse…
To escape a murderous stalker, Caitlin Fitzgerald flees her home in Ireland and takes a governess job in the top end of Australia, determined to guard her heart against further hurt. In her chosen safe haven, she has poisonous snakes, wild boar and crocodiles to contend with. She learns to deal with those. But there are two men at Tall Trees cattle station who test her resolve. The very handsome and moody station owner, Jake Monterey, who has issues of his own, and Harry Phillips, the big, easy-going station hand.
Jake has two adorable children, and Caitlin loves her job, but when danger follows, must she flee again?
Refreshed edition.
Excerpt:
After they’d put the children to bed and were gathering up their toys, Jake said, “You know that pile of wood and bricks out in the yard?”
Caitlin nodded. Covered in creeper, they had obviously been there a long time.
“I had planned to build the kids a playroom on the cooler side of the house. I think I’ll make a start on the foundations tomorrow.”
“Perhaps I can help load the bricks into the wheelbarrow?”
“A brickie’s laborer?” Jake laughed. “Every building site should have one like you.”
She grinned at him. “You think I can’t do heavy lifting?”
He grinned back. “You’ll get blisters, and you’ll quit when you break a nail.”
“Oh!” She punched him on the arm and hurt her knuckles on his rock hard muscle. “Just because I don’t have muscles on my muscles, like you.”
He raised a brow. “I’m not complaining about the way you’re put together.”
There was a loaded pause.
“I’ll be up and ready when you are,” she said to fill it.
He shook his head and chuckled. “You think?”
The next morning she rose to the sound of hammering. She looked out at Jake working, stripped to the waist. For a moment, she drank in the grace and beauty of the man. The rippling muscles on his chest and back, shiny with sweat. His trim waist and long, lean legs in his cut-off jeans. His dark head as he leaned forward with the hammer, pounding away with rhythmic strokes. There was something primal about it, which made her draw a very deep breath. But he wasn’t building it for her.
Amazon
Lady Hope and the Duke of Darkness ~ Book Three The Baxendale Sisters
As today, Christmas was celebrated with family and friends. Mulled wine was served.The Christmas meal would be either a roast goose, duck, pheasant, turkey, or roast beef roast and vegetables. Christmas plum pudding, trifle, syllabub and mince pies followed by shortbread, sweetmeats, sugar plums, and march pane.
It was back in 1800, more than a decade before the Regency began, that I found the earliest reference to a yew tree being used in Christmas celebrations. The Christmas custom of taking a tree inside your house and decorating it was well-established throughout the German states, and Queen Charlotte, who came from the German duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, introduced this tradition to England.
John Watkins describes the royal family Christmas celebrations of 1800 in his biography of Queen Charlotte:
“At the beginning of October the royal family left the coast for Windsor, where Her Majesty kept the Christmas-day following in a very pleasing manner. Sixty poor families had a substantial dinner given them; and in the evening the children of the principal families in the neighbourhood were invited to an entertainment at the Lodge. Here, among other amusing objects for the gratification of the juvenile visitors, in the middle of the room stood an immense tub with a yew-tree placed in it, from the branches of which hung bunches of sweetmeats, almonds, and raisins, in papers, fruits, and toys, most tastefully arranged, and the whole illuminated by small wax candles. After the company had walked round and admired the tree, each child obtained a portion of the sweets which it bore, together with a toy, and then all returned home quite delighted.”
It is interesting to note that the tree stood in an “immense tub” in the middle of the room, presumably on the floor; all the other references that I found talk about table-top Christmas trees. But Christmas trees were not popular until the reign of Queen Victoria.Enjoy an excerpt from LADY HOPE AND THE DUKE OF DARKNESS Christmas, Highland Manor, Tunbridge Wells, 1822
Hope stood back to admire her efforts. Greenery festooned every available place in the parlor, and the scent of pine blended with coal smoke drifting from the hearth. With a heavy sigh, she took another ribbon from the box on the floor. Since touring the Continent with Aunt Amelia, she was more aware of the slow pace of life in the country. Especially now that the snowy weather kept everyone indoors. Consumed with impatience, she couldn’t wait for her life to begin, but the thought of her come-out made her stomach tighten. She banished her nerves with a brisk shake of her head and attached a gilt orange to the woven green arch of holly and pine standing on its wicker base.
When the cat eyed the new addition, Hope reached down and stroked Sable’s soft grey fur. “You won’t touch any of my decorations, will you, pet?”
Sable purred and rolled over, displaying her swollen belly. “We really must try and stop the stable cat, from visiting Sable. Two litters of kittens this year is quite enough,” she said to her sister Charity, who sat reading on the sofa.
“It’s not entirely Old Tom’s fault. Sable is frightfully abandoned.” Charity studied a picture in her book. “I’m thinking of taking up sculpture.”
“Oh?” Arranging a silver paper streamer that their younger sister had created brought her to mind. “Where is Mercy?” Hope asked.
“At the home farm.”
Hope frowned. “She’s always there these days.”
“It’s where she makes her concoctions. Cook has banned her from the kitchen. Mercy has set up what she calls a laboratory.”
“A what?”
“A laboratory. For scientific endeavors.”
“Good heavens! Isn’t she only making creams to treat skin ailments?”
“No, she has gone onto more ambitious projects. Miss Foley gave Mercy a book about a Frenchman called de Lavoisier. He was, I think, involved in chemistry during the French Revolution.”
Hope threaded red ribbon amongst the bright holly berries. She stepped back to study the effect. “I don’t like the sound of that. She may be accused of being a traitor and arrested like Guy Fawkes.”
“I doubt she can achieve much with the little she has. But even the fact that de Lavoisier was guillotined hasn’t deterred her.”
Sable fixed her smoky gaze on the trailing ribbon within reach and sprang. The cat batted at the trimming. The arch tottered on its stand, scattering decorations over the carpet. Hope rushed to steady it. “Naughty cat.”
Their footman entered the room and added coal to the fire.
“I hate the cold.” Hope rubbed her arms. “The French climate is warmer.”
“So it seems are the men,” Charity said. “At least according to Miss Edgeworth’s Leonora.”
“Well one or two, certainly,” Hope said with a slow smile. “They are so much more….”
“More what?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but whatever it is, they have more of it than English men.”
#Regency #Christmas #ChristmasTraditions
PASSIONATE PROMISES: An Embracing Romance Anthology Nine Promises to Stir Your Passions from award-winning, bestselling authors. Enter the dazzling world of brawny Vikings, Regency rogues, and sexy scoundrels as they take you on one romantic journey after the other in these tantalizing historicals filled with betrayal, intrigue, and passion.
Stirring Passions by Maggi Andersen
A Kiss for Miss Kingsley by Collette Cameron
To Challenge the Earl of Cravenswood by Bronwen Evans
Second Chance Marquess by Jessica Jefferson
A Highwayman's Honor by Michelle McLean
Lord Quickthorn's Bargain by Barbara Monajem
A Promise of Love by Ella Quinn
Wanted by the Warrior by Violetta Rand
A Pledge of Passion by Victoria Vane
PRE-ORDER LINKS:
Amazon:Amazon UKAmazon AUFree on Smashwords: A stickler for correctness, Lord Bartholomew Winborne, second son of the Marquess of Brandreth, is about to take up his appointment as a vicar in India. Requiring a suitable wife by Christmas, he has made a list of the most desirable qualities she must possess. The annoying Miss Emily Isherwood appears to have none of them.
A short story
Meet the Brandreth family from the Spies of Mayfair Series, and The Baxendale Sisters Series.
AMAZONAMAZON.UK AMAZON.AUSMASHWORDS In her first Season, Hope Baxendale attracts the interest of a powerful English duke, the husband all debutantes wish for and some will fight dirty to get. If only the handsome Frenchman Daniel Brienne, Duc du Ténèbres wasn’t distracting her from her course. Daniel shows little interest in marrying again, and surely, it is only the sadness in his deep brown eyes that pulls her to him:
Daniel yearns for solitude. When his very existence is threatened, he wakes to the possibilities of a life passionately lived. He knows just whom he wants in his future, but the weary hawk, the Duke of Winslow, circles. And is it fair to ask Hope to leave her family and her country for him?
Excerpt:
A heavyset man halted beside Hope. When his way forward was blocked, he lost his temper and pushed against her. His foot crashed down on her instep, unprotected in her thin evening slipper. Hope cried out in pain, but the man merely ground his shoe into hers to gain momentum and pushed on.
With an angry scowl at the man’s back, the duke took her arm and pulled her sideways. He frowned down at her. “Did he hurt you?”
She grimaced. “My foot is a little sore.”
Hope limped as he drew her toward the open French doors.
When they reached the doors where the curtains flapped in the breeze, they escaped out into the cool, welcoming fresh air. The terrace was deserted. A small party of guests, who had braved the weather, disappeared amongst the trees to admire the gardens lit by braziers.
Hope had left her evening cloak when she’d entered the mansion. She shivered and rubbed her arms. Her foot throbbed horribly, and she’d begun to hobble.
The duke put an arm around her and led her to a garden seat. He shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I’ll fetch your parents.”
Hope clutched his coat, still warm from his body to her chest and breathed in his musky, masculine scent. “It will be difficult for you to locate them in that crush.” She looked toward the open door. “I expect they’ll soon find me.”
“Then please allow me to see the extent of your injury.”
Hope cautiously lifted her gown high enough to expose her foot and ankle as the duke knelt at her feet.
She muffled a gasp as his gloved fingers took a gentle hold of her ankle and his dark head bent over her foot. Her skin tingled where he touched her. The only man who had ever paid attention to her ankle was the groom who’d taught her to ride. The duke removed her slipper, revealing an obvious swelling beneath her damaged stocking.
“You’ll have a nasty bruise, but I don’t think you’ve broken a bone,” he said, lifting his head and pinning her with his deep, soulful dark brown eyes.
She sucked in a breath and fought to compose herself. He didn’t look beguiled. In fact, he sounded like their doctor. She’d thought him quite sociable when they’d last danced, but tonight, there was more distance between them despite his proximity. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. She supposed she didn’t present well from this angle. She now had a big hole in her soiled stocking. “I was to ride in Hyde Park on Sunday. I suppose I shan’t be able to, now,” she said. “And I was looking forward to it.” She closed her mouth firmly, aware she was rambling.
“I doubt this injury will prevent you. You like to ride?”
“I do. Riding gives one a wonderful sense of freedom.”
“Well put.”
“Although Rotten Row is a little restricting. One cannot gallop there. My father disapproves of women galloping. He says sidesaddles are dangerous.” She pressed her lips together.
“They have been proved so.”
“I would love to ride astride, like men. I don’t see why women cannot.” Rambling and opinionated. She was so nervous she seemed unable to stop.
“In the future perhaps, when you marry.” He straightened, but having him stand so close didn’t improve her breathing.
“A husband would permit it?”
“I don’t see why not in the privacy of his estate.”
“Then you agree?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “You would allow your wife to ride astride, I mean.”
He paused to consider it. “It would be entirely my wife’s decision.” His smile softened the firm set of his jaw and turned his eyes to brown satin. “But I imagine you could persuade your husband without a great deal of difficulty, Lady Hope.”
It wasn’t a criticism, for his tone was warm. He might even like her a little. In fact, his gaze was a soft caress, and oddly, it seemed to bring him closer, although he hadn’t moved an inch. A lurch of excitement shocked her and brought her back to the present. They were at a rout, surrounded by the beau monde. Her dress was rucked up, and he was holding her shoe!
“We’d best replace your shoe before your foot swells.” The duke dropped down again and returned to his task.
He was holding her ankle in his long fingers while slipping on her shoe when her father stormed out of the door with her mother following on his heels.
For a moment, Hope held her breath as her father surveyed the scene. Thankfully, he did not rush to judgment. But neither was he pleased. His brows snapped together. “Thank you for rescuing my daughter from that infuriating melee, Your Grace.” He strode over to Hope. “We feared you’d been trampled underfoot, my dear.” He eyed her foot. “It seems you have.”
Fortunately, she and the duke were not alone, for several guests had emerged from the gardens and approached the terrace steps.
Having replaced her shoe, the duke straightened. “Your daughter has suffered a slight injury.”
“I’m grateful for your assistance,” Father said, his tone brisk. He whipped the duke’s coat from Hope’s shoulders and held it out to him. “Most grateful.”
The duke shrugged into his coat. “Lady Hope finds it painful to walk.”
“Come, Hope.” Her father took hold of her arm and led her across the terrace.
A sharp pain shot through her instep, and she staggered. “I can’t walk, Father.”
“Dashed infernal entertainments, so called,” her father muttered. “How on earth are we going to get through that crowd?” He swung Hope up into his arms.
Hope held on to her father’s shoulder and peered around at the duke, who nodded to her as she was carried inside. “Thank you,” Hope mouthed.
Her father blustered his way through the throng, which was thankfully dispersing, her mother behind them. Reaching the front porch, he set Hope on her feet. “Never ask me to attend another of these ridiculous routs again,” he said to her mother through clenched teeth. “I’d rather brave Billingsgate fish wharf.”
“Are you overset my dear?” her mother asked. “He actually had his hand on your ankle! The French do not have the same sense of proprieties that we English do.”
“He wore gloves, Mama.”
“Nevertheless. He might have seen more than was fitting.”
“He did see my foot and my ankle. I believe he will recover from the experience.”
“Don’t be impertinent,” her father said. “Your mother is quite correct.”
At least her parents were now in agreement.
As they were led to their vehicle, the duke strolled onto the porch. Footmen stood to attention while others scurried for the carriage. His fingers on her ankle had been gentle and impersonal, and he’d showed no sign that he found her irresistible. Why would he? It had been kind of him to bother with her. He was a puzzle, however, welcomed with respect in English ballrooms and sought by those in high office, but at the same time, there seemed a wall between him and the rest of the world.
(http://btsemag.com/redcarpet/2016-awards
Exciting news! I have two books nominated for the Red Carpet Book Awards: WHAT A RAKE WANTS (Book #3 in my Regency spy trilogy The Spies of Mayfair)
LADY HONOR'S DEBT (Book #1 in my Regency series The Baxendale Sisters)
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Due to the codicil in his father’s will, Blake Dangerfield, Earl of Hawkeswood, must marry the woman chosen for him, or lose part of his inheritance. Did his father hate him that much? Wilhelmina Corbet is a hoyden, not long out of the schoolroom, who hails from a farm in Northumberland. The last time Blake saw her she wore braids and climbed a tree to rescue a kitten.
Wilhelmina Corbet has dreamed of Blake since she was twelve. But the thought of marrying the handsome earl terrifies her. She comes to his estate, Hawkeswood, determined to measure up to his expectations for a wife. But after time spent with him in London, Mina begins to wonder if the rake is the man she wants to marry.
Can they find happiness when a handsome heir to a dukedom, unruly pets, and a young chimney sweep are thrown into the mix?
Breathless In the Bush: Miranda's October Musings
Let's talk about NOVELL...: Miranda's October Musings Let's talk about NOVELLAS! So PERFECT for your busy life! Spring has sprung here in Oz, darlings. B...
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Gretna Green
By Maggi Andersen
“I publish the Banns of marriage between Groom’s Name of–his local parish–and Bride’s Name of–her local parish. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in Holy matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is the first [second, third] time of asking.”
In the third of my Baxendale Sisters series, LADY HOPE AND THE DUKE OF DARKNESS, lovers set out on the long journey to Gretna Green. Whether they marry there or not, I shan’t reveal, but since Georgette Heyer first created her charming Regency world, we have been reading about lovers escaping to Gretna Green to be married, when no other option is open to them.
So why Gretna Green?
The introduction of the “Scottish Elopements and the Marriage Act of 1753. An Act for Better Preventing of Clandestine Marriage, was also known as Lord Hardwicke’s Marriage Act), and was the first statutory legislation in England and Wales to require a formal ceremony of marriage. The Act prevented clandestine marriages (valid marriages performed by an Anglican clergyman but not in accordance with the canons). And ended the notorious Fleet Marriages associated with London’s Fleet Prison.
Boomsbeat.com
Scottish law allowed for “irregular marriages,” meaning that if a declaration was made before two witnesses, almost anybody had the authority to conduct the marriage ceremony. To be married “over the anvil,” meant that the eloping couple took their vows at the blacksmith’s shop. “Blacksmith priests” conducted the ceremony, which was a public acknowledgment of a couple’s desire to pledge themselves to one another.
Any man could set himself up as an ‘anvil priest.” Although they were frowned on by the local church for calling themselves a priest, the fee and a tip which could be as much as fifty guineas, made it very attractive. Couples could also marry at an inn.
So where is Gretna Green?
The village of Gretna Green lies on the main road from Carlisle to Glasgow and is situated on the most southerly point of the English border on Scotland’s west side. The Sark River marks the border itself, a half mile from Gretna Green.
From Gretna Green Memoirs by Robert Elliot (1842):
Near the Solway Firth, the Regency era’s Greta Green is “…[a] small village with a few clay houses, the parish kirk, the minister’s house, and a large inn. From it you have a fine view of the Solway, port Carlisle and the Cumberland hills, among which is the lofty Skiddaw; you also see Bowness, the place where the famous Roman wall ends.”
LADY HOPE AND THE DUKE OF DARKNESS Coming soon.
#Regencymarriage #Regencyromance #maggiandersen #HistoricalResearch #GretnaGreen
Annemarie Brear: Historical research: Horses, carriages, stables an...: On a recent trip to Normanby Hall, a local historical manor house a few weeks ago, I spent a lovely few hours in the sun strolling around th...
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My new release, HOW TO TAME A RAKE is set in the Victorian era, because I wanted to feature an amazing woman, 1st Baroness, Angela Burdett-Coutts, who was widely known as ‘the richest heiress in England’. Angela did some amazing things in her lifetime, she proposed to the Duke of Wellington, and at 67 years old, despite the huge disparity in their ages, married her 29 year old secretary, American-born William Lehman Ashmead Bartlett. But it’s her philanthropic endeavors which are most impressive.
Burdett-Coutts spent the majority of her wealth on scholarships, endowments, and a wide range of philanthropic causes. One of her earliest philanthropic acts was to co-found a home for young women with Charles Dickens. Urania Cottage was for those who had ‘turned to a life of immorality’, including theft and prostitution.
Her amazing achievements are too large to list here. My interest lay in her close involvement with the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA).
The RSPCA was founded in a London coffee shop in 1824. The men present knew they were creating the world’s first animal welfare charity, but they couldn’t have imagined the size and shape that the charity would become today.
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| A painting of the trial of Bill Burns, showing Richard Martin with the donkey in an astonished courtroom, leading to the world's first known conviction for animal cruelty, after Burns was found beating his donkey. It was a story that delighted London's newspapers and music halls |
Back then, they were called the SPCA - Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Royal patronage followed in 1837 and Queen Victoria gave permission to add the royal R in 1840, making us the RSPCA as they’re known worldwide today. They are best known today for the work they do with pets. But they were influential in forming and improving animal welfare law.
When they were founded, their focus was on working animals, such as ‘pit ponies’, that were worked down the coal mines.
In 1822, two years before they were founded, ‘Martin’s Act’ was passed. It was the very first animal welfare law and it forbade ‘the cruel and improper treatment of cattle’.
Thirteen years on, in 1835, and ‘Pease’s Act’ consolidated this law. The prohibition of cruelty was extended to dogs and other domestic animals, bear-baiting and cock-fighting was forbidden, and it insisted on better standards for slaughter houses.
Other successes long after my story ends have included laws for lab animals, the abolition of fur farming in the UK, the ban of fox hunting with dogs and the animal welfare act.
How to Tame a Rake
Due to the codicil in his father’s will, Blake Dangerfield, Earl of Hawkeswood, must marry the woman chosen for him, or lose part of his inheritance. Did his father hate him that much? Wilhelmina Corbet is a hoyden, not long out of the schoolroom, who hails from a farm in Northumberland. The last time Blake saw her she wore braids and climbed a tree to rescue a kitten.
Wilhelmina Corbet has dreamed of Blake since she was twelve. But the thought of marrying the handsome earl terrifies her. She comes to his estate, Hawkeswood, determined to measure up to his expectations for a wife. But after time spent with him in London, Mina begins to wonder if the rake is the man she wants to marry.
Can they find happiness when a handsome heir to a dukedom, unruly pets, and a young chimney sweep are thrown into the mix?
Refreshed edition.
Here’s a taste:
Another day passed before Mina felt well enough to leave her bed. The breakfast room was empty. Crowley informed her that Blake always rode early and Lady Elizabeth took breakfast in bed. She sipped her tea, gazing at the gardens beyond the window, where an unusually mild day beckoned.
Donning her pelisse and bonnet, she ventured outside into the brisk air and went for a long walk, glad to be out again after the stuffy, overheated rooms. The day was cool, but not as cold as it had been. She ambled along the path and descended a graceful, stone stairway flanked by enormous marble urns and onto a long sweep of lawn. A statue sat on a plinth in the distance, and she walked toward it. Before she reached it, she saw something lying stretched out on the grass. At first, she thought it a pile of leaves. On closer inspection, she found a fox cub. As she knelt down to him, he lifted his head, his dark eyes pleading.
“Oh, you poor, poor thing.” She stroked the red-gold coat. How beautiful he was. He’d hurt a leg, probably in one of those horrid traps. It was broken, dangling at an odd angle. She knew just what to do about it. She’d splinted one of her dogs back home when he’d broken his leg jumping from a high wall.
Picking the cub up carefully, Mina cradled him against her chest. He didn’t struggle. Perhaps he knew that she was a friend or was too weak to care.
She carried him along the path. As she rounded the corner of the house, she came face to face with Blake.
“I’m glad to see you out and about…” he began. His dark brows shot up. “What on earth do you have there?”
“A fox cub. He’s hurt his leg. I’ll have to splint it.”
“You’ll do what?”
“A splint. You use a straight piece of—”
“I know what a splint is, Mina! But this is fox hunting country. We can’t keep a fox here.”
“Why not? When his leg is healed, he will go and join the other foxes.” Her lip trembled. “And then you can hunt him down and kill him.”
“For Lord’s sake!” Blake searched her face as she hugged the animal possessively in her arms. “Come on, then. The animal is ruining your gown. Fortunately, that’s no great loss for Mother plans to see to your wardrobe.” He turned and headed back toward the stables. “We’ll get my head groom to splint it.”
“And feed and water him until he’s strong again?” she called after him.
“Yes. All right!”
Early the next morning, Mina returned to the stables.
Blake came in as she was sitting with the fox. He had a stall all to itself. He was sitting up, his ears pricked. “Won’t be long before the leg is mended,” Blake said, leaning against the stall door. “And then you must let it go, Mina.”
“I know. He’s a wild thing.” She stroked the fox’s soft fur.
“Are you feeling well now?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good. Arrangements have been made for you and Mother to go to London. Tomorrow.”
Mina gazed up at him. “You’ll look after Felix?”
“Who?”
“That’s his name. Felix. Promise you’ll look after him after I’ve gone.”
Blake tilted his head, gazing down at her. “You are an odd girl, Mina. I would have expected you to be far more interested in going to London.”
She stood and shook out her skirts. “I’m very excited, I assure you. I must go and pack.”
“The maids will do it,” he called after her. “But you can leave most of your clothes behind.”
Mina had a strange impulse to turn and poke her tongue out at him. But she suspected he already thought of her as too young for him. She put her fingers to her lips. No matter what happened, she would always remember her first kiss.
#VictorianRomance #HistoricalRomance #RSPCA #Earl #Ton #Romance #Maggiandersen
Due to the codicil in his father’s will, Blake Dangerfield, Earl of Hawkeswood, must marry the woman chosen for him, or lose part of his inheritance. Did his father hate him that much? Wilhelmina Corbet is a hoyden, not long out of the schoolroom, who hails from a farm in Northumberland. The last time Blake saw her she wore braids and climbed a tree to rescue a kitten.
Wilhelmina Corbet has dreamed of Blake since she was twelve. But the thought of marrying the handsome earl terrifies her. She comes to his estate, Hawkeswood, determined to measure up to his expectations for a wife. But after time spent with him in London, Mina begins to wonder if the rake is the man she wants to marry.
Can they find happiness when a handsome heir to a dukedom, unruly pets, and a young chimney sweep are thrown into the mix?
Refreshed edition.
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Excerpt:Another of my refreshed backlist books is released for pre-order in a week: HOW TO TAME A RAKE. A romance with a touch of comedy and suspense:
Due to the codicil in his father’s will, Blake Dangerfield, Earl of Hawkeswood, must marry the woman chosen for him, or lose part of his inheritance. Did his father hate him that much? Wilhelmina Corbet is a hoyden, not long out of the schoolroom, who hails from a farm in Northumberland. The last time Blake saw her she wore braids and climbed a tree to rescue a kitten.
Wilhelmina Corbet has dreamed of Blake since she was twelve. But the thought of marrying the handsome earl terrifies her. She comes to his estate, Hawkeswood, determined to measure up to his expectations for a wife. But after time spent with him in London, Mina begins to wonder if the rake is the man she wants to marry.
Can they find happiness when a handsome heir to a dukedom, unruly pets, and a young chimney sweep are thrown into the mix?
Here's an excerpt: The groom rushed over to Blake and engaged him in conversation. When Blake spied Mina atop Thundercloud, he looked much like a thundercloud himself. He gestured for her to return to the mounting yard with a sharp motion of his arm.
She meekly obeyed.
“You are not riding that stallion, Wilhelmina! He was a misjudged purchase of my father’s. He’s the very devil.”
“As you see, Cou ... Blake, I am riding him.”
“Come here.”
She rode up to him, and Blake unceremoniously pulled her down from the horse. “Take him back to his stall, Tarrow,” he said, tossing the reins to the groom.
More breathless from the touch of Blake’s hands at her waist than at the confrontation, Mina studied his handsome face, hating to see the world-weary expression in his eyes. She was just a nuisance to him, and he wished her gone. “I assure you I can handle him. He was a perfect angel.”
“An angel one minute and a devil the next.”
Mina folded her arms. “I would have thought you could ride him.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I can.”
“But you’re a bit wary of him,” she said politely.
Blake frowned. “I’m not a bit afraid of him. I prefer Ebony Fire—he’s a far superior horse.”
“Oh, I understand.” She gazed up at the sky. “One is entitled to have a favorite.”
“Thank you,” he said in an ironic tone.
“Not at all, I quite understand.” Mina tapped her riding crop on her gloved hand.
He eyed her suspiciously. “No need to repeat it.”
“But I do, honestly.”
“Why, you wicked girl.” A brief smile lifted his lips. “I believe you’re toad-eating me.” He called to the groom. “Bring Thundercloud back, Tarrow, and put a saddle on him. I’ll ride him.”
“Oh, if you’re sure?” Mina said. “He really does need exercise.”
“And shall you be glad if he throws me over a hedge?”
“Oh no,” Mina said hurriedly. “I shan’t like that at all. But you can ride him, can’t you? I wouldn’t—”
“Enough!” Blake said. “We shan’t travel down that road again.” He looked around. “Where’s that horse I picked out for the lady to ride?” he bellowed at the hapless groom.
Mina shook her head. “I’m not riding that ... that sleepy pony.”
Blake gave a grudging laugh. “Sleepy pony, is it?” He walked along, studying his stable of fine horses. He stopped in front of a solidly built grey of about fourteen hands. “What about Silver Shadow?”
She came and rested her arms on the box and the sturdy horse nudged her hand looking for apples. “Very well,” she said. But she intended to ride Thundercloud one day. She was confident of her ability and would fight to prove her worth to this man.
18th and 19th Century: How Regency People Passed Their Time: Regency people filled their free time with a variety of public and private amusements. Such amusements offered Regency people a mild form ...
From Geri Walton.
AMAZON BUY LINKAfter refusing him once, heiress Miss Selina Wakefield accepts Giles Devereux, Earl of Halcrow’s, offer of marriage, against her better instincts. The handsome earl confesses that he needs to marry into money to save his crumbling estate, Halcrow Hall, and produce an heir.
Giles is the most interesting and fascinating man Selina knows. But he is also the most secretive. He has resigned his commission in the army while England is at war, and members of the ton cut him.
Because of the earl’s rakish reputation, Selina fears she may be leaving her calm, organized life for one of disorder and heartbreak. But she never expects what lies ahead.
Excerpt:
Devereux collapsed into a leather chair by the fire. Leaning back exhausted, he rested his boots on a leather ottoman. She bit her lip at the ridge of high-color on his cheeks, made obvious by his pallor. Her unreliable heart turned over with anguish. He was far sicker than she’d first thought.
Selina gave up on her determination not to touch him. She rested her hand against his brow, finding it burning. “You must go straight to bed,” she said, alarmed. “I have your bedchamber prepared.”
“Not the marriage bed then, Lady Halcrow?” His savage laugh turned into a cough.
Selina pulled the bell cord. A minute later, the butler appeared. “Send Joseph for the doctor. Joseph must be sure to tell the doctor his lordship is very ill.”
“Very good, my lady.”
“And send Mrs. Lark to me, Frobisher.”
Moments later, the housekeeper entered the room, and Selina introduced her.
“Welcome to Halcrow Hall, Mrs. Lark,” Devereux said.
Mrs. Lark curtsied in her neat black gown. “A pleasure to be here, my lord.”
“Have the bed in the blue suite made with fresh sheets and a bed warmer, if you please, Mrs. Lark, and the fire lit,” Selina said. “Ask Cook to make beef tea.”
“I’ll not drink any of that foul stuff,” Devereux muttered. “Bring me a brandy.”
“Does your throat hurt?” she asked, ignoring his bad temper.
“A little,” he said gruffly.
“My mother had a good remedy for sore throats,” Selina said briskly. “Mrs. Lark, Cook is to steep horseradish in a gill of vinegar and add a gill of honey. I’ll have his lordship take a teaspoon every twenty minutes.”
“Are you trying to poison me, madam?”
“And for his lordship’s cough, Mrs. Lark,” Selina continued, “we shall need sliced lemon mixed with a half-pint of flaxseed and two ounces of honey, added to one quart of water. Cook must simmer the mixture for several hours and then strain it.”
Mrs. Lark hurried from the room.
Selina turned to find Devereux slumped in his chair watching her.
“Good God, I’ll not take that,” he said. “You’ll have to tie me down.”
“No brandy.”
He widened his eyes. “You are refusing me?”
“For the time being.”
“What gave you such conviction, Selina?” he asked with a lift of his brows. “Was it your father? Were you his pet? I can imagine you as a child, ordering everyone about in your ebony plaits.”
“I declare you are color-blind, my lord.”
He grinned. “See? Resolute, right down to your toes.” His gaze roamed down her body, making her unsure what point he was making.
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As the second novella in my Baxendale Sisters Series, LADY FAITH TAKES A LEAP is released today;
Faith appears in the first book of the series, LADY HONOR’S DEBT. Vaughn and his large family the Brandreths, in TAMING A GENTLEMAN SPY.
LADY FAITH TAKES A LEAP – The Baxendale Sisters Book #2
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18th and 19th Century: Jane Austen's Vocabulary From Persuasion: Anne Elliott and Henrietta Musgrove Jane Austen's Persuasion was published posthumously in 1818. This novel focuses on the fashionab...
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