Thank you, Delilah, for inviting me to hang out with your readers today!

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. And Jill a dull girl. Along those same lines, a common thread in writerly conversations is the need to step away from our computers/notebooks/scrolls and refill the creative well. Getting out of our chairs is good for our physical health. And getting out of our writing cave benefits our mental health. Plus, it’s nice to feel the sun on our cheeks and breath outdoor air.

I know many of my fellow scribes are introverts and would be perfectly happy to be hermits all day, every day. I go for days seeing only my hubby, and I’m fine with that. But there’s a whole wide world outside my walls and it behoves me to enjoy as much of it as I can while I’m able.

To that end, hubby and I dusted off our bicycles the other day and went for a ride. Not far from our house lies a former railroad that has been converted to a walking/biking rail. Lined with trees, shrubs, and flowers, away from vehicular traffic, and without steep hills, it’s a lovely way to bike into town. Or from one town to the next if you’re feeling energetic. Did I mention no steep hills? Because trains needed fairly level terrain, us middle-aged bicyclists benefit now that the rails are torn up.

(As an aside, I wish we had better train service in this part of the world [NS, Canada] like a lot of other developed nations do.)

Our recent trip, the first of the season, was a brief expedition to check out our machines and to limber disused muscles. We encountered a few other bicyclists and a few walkers, including a couple visiting our fair town from Nottingham, UK! We had a lovely chat on the trail and shared the location of a pair of deer we’d seen.

Here are a few pictures I took along the trail:

The larger of the two deer, along with a herd of cattle who quickly became bored with our presence. The lupines are starting to bloom and I revel in the many shades of blue and purple they display. Finally, one of our neighbours welcomed us home.

After a few hours in the saddle I returned to my writing cave refreshed in body and spirit. And eager for our next outing, which will include a picnic lunch and an ice cream at our destination.

To my fellow writers, what do you do to get away from the story mill and experience the wide world?

And to my fellow readers, if you were presented with an entire day free from obligations, how would you spend your time?

Love & Mayhem

Sybil is happily on the shelf, tending to her sheep. But she fears she’ll depart this life without experiencing physical love, which she suspects is rather enjoyable. When her long-lost fiancé returns from sea, she decides he’s the lucky man who’ll receive her virginity.

Max is eager to return to his sugar plantation and has no intention of remaining long in London. However, he didn’t bargain on a wilful, pretty, exasperating spinster determined to take him to her bed.

He insists on marriage but she wants only his body. Her heart is not part of the deal. Unfortunately, love doesn’t always follow the rules.

Get your copy here!

Excerpt:

“I see all sorts of advantages to the married state.” He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing each knuckle in turn before kissing her palm. Then he flicked his tongue over the inside of her wrist. She bit back a moan. Who knew the wrist was such a sensitive spot?

She forced her mind back to the task at hand. Which, when you came to think of it, served the other task as well. Namely, getting him to flick his tongue on other sensitive parts of her body. She took a deep breath. “Some enjoy those advantages without the bother of a marriage ceremony.”

Buy links:

Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/non-american-historical-romance/5180-love-and-mayhem.html
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Mayhem-Luanna-Stewart-ebook/dp/B072TQGG3J
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/love-and-mayhem/id1252491353?mt=11
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/love-and-mayhem-1
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-and-mayhem-luanna-stewart/1126952180?ean=2940158555770

About the Author

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. As soon as she discovered her grandmother’s stash of romance novels, all plots had to lead to a happily-ever-after.

Luanna writes full time, concentrating on sexy romantic suspense, steamy paranormal romance, and spicy historical romance.

Born and raised in Nova Scotia, Luanna has recently returned to the land of her birth with her dear husband and two spoiled cats. When she’s not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious.

Under her previous pen name of Grace Hood she has two novellas published with The Wild Rose Press.

Social media links:

Website:  http://www.luannastewart.com/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Luanna_Stewart
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Luanna.Stewart.nau
Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/luannastewart/
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14104212.Luanna_Stewart
Amazon Author Page:  www.amazon.com/author/luanna_stewart

In a recent issue of Romance Writers Report, there appeared an article about authors with attention deficit disorder. A primary requirement for many of these unfortunate souls is absolute silence before they can jot down a word. This revelation has led me to believe I’ve got a burning case of ADD.

When I’m not being distracted from writing by pine cones falling, trucks passing, or the thump of my cat as she dismounts from her favorite chair, I tutor. One student meets me at a small library in New York State, which is run by the world’s loudest librarians. These ladies treat the place like it’s their private social club; they talk at full volume, shout across the room, and chatter like parakeets behind the checkout desk. The ringleader is a tall, thin thing with half orange, half white hair, which she parts so not a single orange strand mingles with a single white strand. Plus, she wears horn-rimmed glasses and is nasty.

One time, my student and I arrived to find her and another librarian gossiping in the study room we’d grown accustomed to using. Very politely, I asked if they’d be in there much longer. “What are you, a tutor?” she asked, emphasizing “tutor” as if it were slang for poop. “Tutors aren’t allowed in here. You can use one of those tables.” She waved at a few knee-high structures in the Children’s Section.

We slunk into the tiny chairs and tried to get through the lesson. As she and her compatriots bellowed above our heads, I thanked fate for not making me a citizen of this besieged township. Libraries, after all, are typically a refuge for those of us with an anchovy’s attention span.

A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing

In Lord Hugh Davenport’s opinion, women of the tonperpetually hide behind a mask of deception. That’s hard for Ellie Albright, the daughter of an earl, to swallow—especially since she’s disguised herself as a stable hand to get back the prized stallion her father sold to Hugh to pay a debt. If Hugh learns her true identity she’ll lose the horse and her family will go bankrupt. Somehow, though, losing Hugh’s affection is beginning to seem even worse…

Already only a step away from being snagged in her own web of lies, Ellie’s deceit threatens to spin out of control when Hugh’s mother invites Ellie and her sisters to a house party. Now Ellie has to scramble to keep Hugh from knowing she’s the stable girl he wants to marry, while simultaneously trying to win his trust as herself. Can she keep her costumes straight long enough to save her family? And even if she does, will it be worth losing his love?

Get your copy here!

EXCERPT from A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing

Ellie took a few limping steps after him. “I’ll need your assistance.” He came back and eyed her suspiciously. “Your arm, in fact,” she told him.

His lips hardened, but he looped her arm through his. As they passed a row of seated grande dams, every eye watched with envy.

At an alcove, Hugh stopped to let her pass. “In here,” he said.

“I can’t go in there alone with you.”

“Did you see a free chair on the floor?” he said. “Because what I saw was a row of plump sugar plums, and none of them likely to abandon her seat.”

“People will say I’ve been compromised.”

“Nonsense. I couldn’t possibly compromise anyone in an alcove shielded by a simple palm tree. A young lady compromised in such a manner either wants to be or wants to pretend she was. Which one are you?”

“Neither,” snapped Ellie.

“Then sit.” He whacked back the palm revealing a gilded bench by the wall. “Besides,” he continued, following her into the alcove, “your reputation will swell in direct correlation to the amount of time spent in my company.”

As she sat, she rolled her eyes. “La, what an extraordinary view of oneself.”

BUY LINKS for A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing and The Secret Life of Lords

Amazon.com A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing: Book 1 in the Albright Sisters series

Amazon.com The Secret Life of Lords: Book 2 in the Albright Sisters series

Elf Ahearn
“Regency romance with a Gothic twist.”
The Albright Sisters Series: A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing, The Secret Life of Lords
www.Elfahearn.com
https://www.facebook.com/elf.ahearn

Hi Delilah Fans! Thanks for stopping by my guest post today. For the last month or so, I’ve been reading Regency romance novels. This isn’t my standard fare. I lean more to the erotic end of things in my novels and short stories. But Regency has something to offer anyone who enjoys romance.

Despite the (mostly) lack of torrid sex scenes and descriptive words for body parts like, well, you know, Regency stories set 200 years ago tend to be long on sexual attraction and desire. Which, as we all know, is a lot of the fun in romance. Just as in any contemporary romance, these ‘bodice-rippers’ feature tall muscular men who are unbelievably handsome and who, despite all odds, take one look at the female in question and fall completely in love.

Of course, he doesn’t know it yet. They’re star-crossed lovers who can’t possible have a future because—well,  he’s a duke and she a mere seamstress. Or she’s lost her reputation due to some gossip about the ‘ton,’ as London life is called. Or because she’s from a titled family and he’s not, although this is rare because the happy ending usually involves his vast mansions with herds of servants and all the money they could ever want or need—without having to work.

What’s remarkable to me is the frequent reminder in these stories of how far we’ve come, ladies. Seriously, have you lately stopped to think that a mere 200 years ago, in a tradition going back as far as history, women were the property of men without the right to own property in her own right or to divorce her husband? Even 100 years ago, women were still under the thumb of a father and then a husband, although at least by then laws had pretty much curtailed the husband’s right to beat his wife.

Even fifty years ago, being a virgin until marriage was considered the norm and only ‘fast’ girls ran the risk of a scandalous premarital pregnancy. When birth control pills were introduced in the 1960s, everything changed.

Really, things started to change when women gained the right to vote in 1920. Women tended to support social change that not only benefitted themselves but also men in issues such as labor laws that eliminated child labor and created new ideas like weekends, a forty-hour week, and workplace safety regulations. But it would take until even later than birth control pills before publishers started to put sexy romance stories into the mainstream.

When I read Regency romance—which I enjoy because it’s a complete vacation from the real world and hey, what’s reading romance about anyway if not to escape reality for a few hours?—I’m often bemused by the arcane details of life in those times. Multiple layers of clothing including corsets for women and yards of pristine neck cloth for men—among other things—would be absurd in today’s world where both sexes routinely swim or jog in form-fitted Spandex that leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination.

What would one of those folks think now? I look around me at romance novels which explore bondage or menage and have to smile. We’ve definitely come a long way, baby.

If you’d like to explore Regency, here are a couple of authors I’ve been enjoying. And don’t forget to check out my newly revised Cannon Cousins series. Book I, HERS TO CHOOSE, is now FREE at your favorite ebook retailer. Visit https://www.amazon.com/dp/1490513906.

Character Interview – Lady Elizabeth Blayneton

1. If you had a free day with no responsibilities and your only mission was to enjoy yourself, what would you do?

I’d visit all the sights in London that I’ve heard about but never seen. I’m not allowed out the house, you see. My Uncle August keeps me isolated in the hope that I’ll marry his son Frederick. The man stinks of hounds and gapes like a fish. I’d rather die a spinster than marry him.

2. What impression do you make on people when they first meet you? How about after they’ve known you for a while?

I don’t make an impression. I’m invisible, little more than a servant in a household that exists because of my fortune. I only have threadbare gray gowns. When visitors call on my cousins I’m banished to either my room or my stillroom. What with my silver blonde hair and my hideous gowns, I sometimes think my whole life is gray

3. What’s your idea of a good marriage? Do you think that’ll happen in your life?

I can’t marry without my uncle’s permission or until I turn thirty. Since I won’t marry Cousin Frederick, I’ll be an old maid before I can wed. If I ever find the opportunity, I’ll gladly give up virginity while I’m young enough to enjoy it.

4. What are you most proud of about your life?

My herbal skills. Before my parents were killed in a carriage accident, mama and I studied plants and their uses. Even my cousins want my potions. The good thing about that is I’m allowed out at dawn to collect herbs.

5. What about on a personal level?
Some people think my stubborn streak’s a bad thing – Uncle Augustus and my cousins among them. I don’t. I keep refusing to wed Frederick. Nothing could make me take him into my bed.

6. Do you think you’ve turned out the way your parents expected?

No. Papa made his will when my aunt was alive. She’d never have let Uncle Augustus treat me the way he does. Mamma and I were planning my come out when their carriage overturned and killed them. They wanted me to enjoy a couple of London Seasons, but obviously that never happened.

7. What would you like it to say on your tombstone?

She lived well, had fun, and helped those in need. It hurts that I can’t do any of that until I turn thirty and inherit my fortune. The only men who will want me then are fortune hunters. I want to live now, not in seven years’ time.

8. Describe your ideal mate.

I’d like a husband who sees me as I am and loves me for it. I don’t want my fortune to matter. I’d like him to be tall and dark-haired. Someone unafraid to stand up to Uncle Augustus. A dashing soldier maybe.

9. What are you most afraid of?

Dying a virgin – unloved and unwanted by anyone.

10. Are you lying to yourself about something? What is it?

I keep telling myself everything will work out find. Only deep down, I know it won’t. My solace is my herbs. If I concentrate on them and ways to heal people, then I can get through each day as it comes.

Wickedly Used

While he is no stranger to pleasurable company from ladies of the night, Major Richard Rothbury of the royal dragoons is not the kind of man who will stand idly by as a woman is taken against her will, and when he witnesses a disreputable cad attempting to force himself on a girl in a back alley, he does not hesitate to intervene.

But after the grateful young woman offers herself to Rothbury, he is shocked to discover that not only was she no harlot, she was a maiden and he has deflowered her. Furious at the girl’s scandalous behavior and her carelessness with her own safety, Rothbury chastises her soundly.

Though she is due to inherit one of the largest fortunes in England, the fact that she cannot touch the money until she marries or turns thirty has kept Elizabeth completely at the mercy of her cruel uncle, and for years she has been treated as if she were a servant. Her encounter with Lord Rothbury is by far the most exciting thing that has ever happened to her, but while he shows great concern for her safety, he refuses to believe that she is anything more than a serving girl.

Despite having made it clear that he doesn’t consider a match between them to be possible, when Elizabeth disobeys him Rothbury proves more than ready to strip her bare, punish her harshly, and then enjoy her beautiful body in the most shameful of ways. But can she dare to hope that he will one day make her his wife, or is she destined to spend her life being wickedly used?

Get your copy here!

Thank you, Delilah, for inviting me to visit with your readers.

Writing is hard. There, I said it. I’m in the middle of, well, actually closer to finishing, a somewhat major revision of my work-in-progress. I say somewhat major but what I mean is a massive overhaul of all aspects of the book – character arcs, plot, inner conflicts, the whole kit and kaboodle. And that is hard, difficult, painful. By the end of the day my brain is mush and can just about function enough to get supper on the table. Ask me a difficult question and expect blood to flow from a cranial orifice.

Alas, I’m not one of those lucky people who can relax in front of the TV. I have to be doing something whilst streaming my latest obsession (Penny Dreadful) or enjoying an old black & white comedy (Arsenic and Old Lace).

That’s where crafts come into play. Even before I began this writing career I’ve done something whilst viewing TV. I’ve been stitching counted cross-stitch samplers and Christmas ornaments for more years than I can count. Every family member and most friends have received at least one cross-stitched item as a gift. Rug hooking is a newer craft to me, introduced to me by my mom. I’m now completely addicted. Knitting is a craft I’ve been pursuing for decades. Most members of my family have received at least one hand-knitted item as a gift as well. These crafts are not mindless activities. But they use a different area of my brain, and they use different muscles in my hands and arms. So after eight hours of tapping at the keyboard, devising obstacles for my characters and creating fictional worlds, I curl up on the chesterfield with my needle or hook and create something soft and tangible.

Do you have a craft or an activity you use to unwind at the end of the day?

One commenter will receive a hand-knitted (by me) washcloth
and a bar of handcrafted soap. (USA and Canada only.)

If Wishes Were Earls

A mysterious letter and an enchanted keepsake promise to lead Miranda to her heart’s desire. Or does her heart secretly yearn for more than a sexy earl?

When a mysterious note directs Miss Miranda Large to a tiny village in Cornwall to find her heart’s desire, she has no choice but to go. An enchanted keepsake heightens her curiosity. A snowstorm forces her to accept the hospitality of a sullen, albeit sexy and handsome, earl and Miranda’s wish doesn’t seem so out of reach.

Edward Penhallion, the 12^th Earl of Claverlock, is not in the mood to start his search for a new wife. He wants to be left alone with his books and his dreams of revenge. But the arrival of a headstrong, sharp-tongued spinster forces him to play the charming host. Not a difficult task, given her intelligence and beauty. Suddenly, he’s not terribly eager for her to leave.

But as the snow falls and the winds blow, Edward discovers there’s more to Miranda than a lively wit and a lovely face. And Miranda wonders if the trappings of wealth are enough for true happiness.

Buy Links: Amazon | Nook | Kobo | iBooks

All other retailers: https://www.draft2digital.com/book/209375

Like most writers, I get asked regularly where I get my ideas. If the questioner is referring to one of my more steamy stories, the question is often accompanied by either an embarrassed chuckle, or a bold wink.

I find it difficult to say where the plot comes from but I can say exactly where the idea for the location comes from. My own town has served as the model for the location, as has a nearby city, and the village where my mum was raised. I’ve also invented cities and entire countries.

For my most recent release (If Wishes Were Earls, available for pre-order) I knew I wanted my Victorian-set historical romance to take place in Cornwall. The idea of Cornwall has intrigued me from the time I first read Daphne du Maurier. And again whilst watching Poldark on TV – both the original and the more recent version. And in a more light-hearted vein, Doc Martin (BBC TV program).

Cornwall is a large county though, so I had to narrow it down. I turned to a favorite research source – maps. I needed a small village, but it had to be fairly near a larger town that would have rail service, a necessary feature in the plot that was developing in my notebook. I chose St. Erth as my village, the nearest train station is in Hayle, and my heroine and her BFF live in Camborne, just a few stops up the line.

Now, here’s the funny/spooky part. Eons ago I worked as a nanny for a family in London. On my most recent trip to that city last month I had dinner with the mum, dad and little boy, who is now in his early 30’s! (I did say it was eons ago.) We were talking about my writing and when I mentioned the village of St. Erth there was a gasp of amazement. They own a summer cottage a stone’s throw away, and have been to St. Erth and Hayle.

The universe is strange and wondrous.

Where is your favorite village, town or city? Either somewhere you’ve been, or somewhere you are dreaming of going. I really, really want to visit Scotland, the land of my forefathers. One lucky commenter will win a prize pack of autographed books and fun conference swag.  (Sorry, this contest is open to residents of USA and Canada only.)

If Wishes Were Earls

A mysterious letter and an enchanted keepsake promise to lead Miranda to her heart’s desire. Or does her heart secretly yearn for more than a sexy earl?

When a mysterious note directs Miss Miranda Large to a tiny village in Cornwall to find her heart’s desire, she has no choice but to go. An enchanted keepsake heightens her curiosity. A snowstorm forces her to accept the hospitality of a sullen, albeit sexy and handsome, earl and Miranda’s wish doesn’t seem so out of reach.

Edward Penhallion, the 12^th Earl of Claverlock, is not in the mood to start his search for a new wife. He wants to be left alone with his books and his dreams of revenge. But the arrival of a headstrong, sharp-tongued spinster forces him to play the charming host. Not a difficult task, given her intelligence and beauty. Suddenly, he’s not terribly eager for her to leave.

But as the snow falls and the winds blow, Edward discovers there’s more to Miranda than a lively wit and a lovely face. And Miranda wonders if the trappings of wealth are enough for true happiness.

 

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N0QJSHA/
Draft2Digital: https://www.draft2digital.com/book/209375

About the Author

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. As soon as she discovered her grandmother’s stash of romance novels, all plots had to lead to a happily-ever-after.

Born and raised in Nova Scotia, Luanna now lives in Maine with her dear husband, two college boys, and two cats. When she’s not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious.

Writing under the pen name Grace Hood, she has two novellas published with The Wild Rose Press.

Website:  http://www.luannastewart.com/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Luanna_Stewart
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Luanna.Stewart.nau
Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/luannastewart/
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14104212.Luanna_Stewart
Amazon Author Page:  amazon.com/author/luanna_stewart

Not long ago I was discussing one of the sub-plots in my latest release When a Marquis Chooses a Bride with someone, and they were surprised to hear that human trafficking had been going on for over two hundred years. They thought it was a modern problem. In fact, it’s been going on for over a millennium, but I will focus on the Regency era.

As readers and writers we tend to idealize certain periods in history, and the Regency is one of them. We focus on Mayfair and think that all parts of England were safe, when even Mayfair, the most exclusive area of London was not truly safe. Not only were there slums that even soldiers thought twice about entering, but predators roamed the town.

Well-bred ladies were admonished not to walk or ride alone for good reason. It was not uncommon for young women just up from the country to disappear and wind up in a brothel. After that, most of them could not return to their families. Why? Because the women were blamed for their situations and their families would not take them back.

Children as young as four and five were kidnapped and made to work for thieves because if caught, they would be transported and not hung.

There were private charities that helped both women and children, but they were few and far between. Many people in government believed that the poor, even children were responsible for the way their lives turned out.

In When a Marquis Chooses a Bride, the heroine, Dotty, is one of those ladies who worked at improving the lives of people caught in bad situations.

A furious female voice Dom knew well rose above the rabble. “He is only a small, hungry child. You will not arrest him.”

Thea. He should have known. Quickening his stride, he swiftly arrived at the gathering of street cleaners, vendors, and the merely curious. The small crowd of onlookers parted for him. At the middle of the scene was Thea squaring off with a sturdy-looking farmer. An underfed, filthy child of perhaps six or seven years clutched an apple in one grubby hand and her skirt in the other, clearly recognizing her as his savior.

“How much for the apple?” she demanded of the farmer.

“That ain’t the point, miss,” the man said belligerently, spittle flying from his mouth. “He’s a thief and deserves to be punished.” The child ducked behind Thea as the farmer leaned to one side. “Hanged or transported.”

Thea’s chin rose as she stood her ground. “I am not saying he was right, but you might steal too if you were starving. The law in this case is too harsh.”

Dom’s cravat threatened to choke him. The law she referred to was one he had supported.

When a Marquis Chooses a Bride Blurb

Thanks to their large extended family and unconventional courtship, The Worthingtons have seen their share of scandal and excitement. But nothing has prepared them for this…

The Dowager Lady Worthington isn’t quite sure what to make of country-girl Dorothea Stern. As the granddaughter of the Duke of Bristol, Dotty is schooled in the ways and means of the nobility. But her sharp wit and outspoken nature has everyone in a tizzy. Especially their cousin, Dominic, the Marquis of Merton.

Prematurely stuffy, Dom was raised by his cheerless uncle to be wary of a host of things, including innovation, waltzing, and most perilous of all: true love. Still, there’s something about Dotty, beyond her beauty, that Dom cannot resist. But the odds are against him if he intends to win her as his bride. Will he choose loyalty to his family—or risk everything for the one woman he believes is his perfect match…

When a Marquis Chooses a Bride Buy Links:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OPiCIK
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1oP58HL
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1ILP9mR
B&N: http://bit.ly/1QTj93N
Books a Million: http://bit.ly/1QrfpkA
Kobo: http://bit.ly/21HhiAL

About the Author

Bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them. She has just finished her first series, The Marriage Game, and her new series, The Worthingtons, began in April 2016.

She is married to her wonderful husband of over thirty years. They have a son and two beautiful granddaughters, and a dog. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat cruising the Caribbean and North America. Europe is next!

Website: www.ellaquinnauthor.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/EllaQuinnAuthor
Twitter www.twitter.com/ellaquinnauthor
Blog http://ellaquinnauthor.wordpresscom