Saturday

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #42

Welcome. Last week Kitty thought Lord George protested a little too much when she made a passing comment that his referral to Napoleon sounded somewhat personal, as though he'd been to France. You can read that HERE.

I've skipped ahead a few paragraphs and we are now in Lord George's POV and Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet and Mary Bennet have joined him and Kitty. Which is a good thing because Kitty worried. Although Lord George was clear across the drawing room standing by the fireplace, the fact they were unattended in the drawing room was socially unacceptable.

George watched with mild amusement as Mrs. Bennet fussed with her skirts, chastised the girls for any number of things not worth worrying about and almost laughed out loud when she finally turned her full attention on him. The calculating look in her eye, barely concealed by much fluttering of her eyelashes, led him to believe she had him pegged for son-in-law number four.
"We barely had time for conversation, what with all the excitement of Kitty nearly being killed," began the lady of the house.
George caught a slight eye roll from Katherine, who hid it by looking down at her fingers, which continued to pleat and tug at the blanket covering her legs.
"What brought you to Hertfordshire, Lord Kerr? Surely there are lots of pretty girls in London to catch your eye, although Kitty is quite lovely, when she's not covered in mud." Mrs. Bennet's head tipped to one side as she awaited his answer. She reminded him of a pet bird his mother kept, which always tilted its head and fixed one eye on him, waiting to see what he'd say or do.
"Lord Kerr is not required to share his itinerary, nor does he answer to us as to what ladies he knows in London," Mr. Bennet said, shaking out his newspaper in agitation. "It's not his fault Kitty was in the middle of the road, silly girl, always dreaming her life away."
Thank you for reading my contribution to Weekend Writing Warriors. I'm sure a lot of you are at the RWA conference. One of these years I'll attend, but I'm saving for a fab vacation in November.

To catch up with other authors, please visit the link to Weekend Writing Warriors HERE. They are a talented crew and you won't regret it. Most authors have their selections up on the Sunday.

Tuesday

Tidbit Tuesday

My first book ever published was According to Plan, a contemporary romantic suspense. Heavy on the romance, light on the suspense. I thought I'd share a brief snippet where I exercised my descriptive narrative muscle. I hope you enjoy.


 


Saturday

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #41

Welcome friends.

Katherine is situated on a settee in the drawing room alone with Lord George Kerr. He has declared how many can't wait for Napoleon, or as he referred to him - La Corse - to be defeated. Would you like to catch up, read the post HERE.
"You sound as though you've been there and seen that for yourself."
If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she wouldn't have seen him give a start. Minutiae in terms of reaction, but there all the same.
"No, not this boring English gentleman. My French is deplorable, almost as bad as my Latin." He pretended to shudder. "I took an interest in what Old Boney was up to when Nathan enlisted, I played no part in the war."
The gentleman doth protest too much.
A revised quote from Shakespeare fluttered through her mind at his declaration. Kitty determined Lord George did not want her to question his connection with France and nervously pleated the throw rug on her lap.
That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. For more information on Weekend Writing Warriors, as well as to read other talented authors, click HERE



WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #40

I've been sharing from Katherine, and I'm loving how the story is unfolding, but today I thought I'd share from a paranormal/time travel that I work on whenever I can't think of what to add to my current WIP. It's my stress reliever.

This is from Craven Desires. The image to the left is part of the cover. Dreamy, or what?

Ma'alcom, a dark Druid, has two goals. The most pressing one is to rule the clan. The only thing standing in his way is his cousin, Robert Douglas MacKinnon, Laird of Craven Castle and a powerful Druid in his own right. Ma'alcom has captured Laird Craven's wife and in order for Craven to claim her, he must fight a champion of Ma'alcom's choosing, a giant of a man, topping Craven by a good six inches.

Unbeknownst to all of them, Eve included, she has been imbued with Fae powers... well, that is for another snippet....but they're about to get a taste of what she can do.

I've done a bit of a time jump in this excerpt, in order to leave you on the edge of your computer chair.
Ma'alcom twisted the rope until it bit into her skin and tossed the remaining length of rope over the branch of a tree, stretching her arms until she was forced up onto the tips of her toes. She struggled to stay on the balls of her feet, to help ease the pull on her shoulders.
"Don't think your lover will save you with magic, for the area in which he'll fight my champion has been heavily warded," Ma'alcom bragged before he stepped away and surveyed her, much as an artist would assess a new painting. "Unfortunately, this means my magic will be rendered useless as well, but such is the sacrifice I'm willing to make in order to keep the battle fair."
Hours later, as the full moon rose to its zenith, Eve watched the two men circle each other, testing the other's reactions, gauging their skills. She knew Ma'alcom intended Craven to be distracted by the thought of her strung up on the edge of the warded boundary and prayed fervently he would win and---
Pain sliced through her leg and she involuntarily cried out. Ma'alcom raised his dagger and watched blood drip off the end of the blade. Momentarily diverted, Craven lowered his shield and the giant swung his mallet.
"No!," Eve cried out, and the wood became silent, leaving only her and Craven.
Ooooohhhh, what do you think happened?
Please check out other participants in Weekend Writing Warriors HERE

Tuesday

Tidbit Tuesday

I've been working on KATHERINE, hoping for a fall 2017 release, and I'm close. So very, very close. I've shared numerous excerpts from this story line, and if you're interested in seeing the very beginning of Kitty's story, check out my Weekend Writing Warrior posts.

This excerpt is from another story I'm working on ( I like to have many irons in the fire... ). It's from GEORGIANA, which shall be released Spring 2018.

*~*~*
Georgiana Darcy bumped along the narrow road, the basket of preserves on her lap threatening to spill over with each jostle. She gripped the handle tighter and continued to gaze out the window, enjoying the vista spread before her. In two months time she'd leave this all behind and head to London in preparation for her first Season.
The thought of leaving Pemberley and all that was familiar caused her stomach to clench. She knew the fear was irrational, but the thought of meeting so many new people almost made her sick.
"Are you quite all right, Miss Darcy?"
The polite enquiry came from the Reverend Lord Nathanial Kerr, better known as Mr. Kerr to the parishioners of Kympton parish. His dark curly hair, broad shoulders and ready smile caused many a young lady to wish he belonged to her, but he had no eyes other than for his wife, the former Miss Caroline Bingley.
"I'm fine, Lord Nathan. Thank you."
As attractive as Lord Nathan was, he didn't make her heart race. No, that pesky organ only galloped along like a new colt around the vicar's brother, Maxwell Kerr, the fifth Duke of Adborough. Try as she might, no amount of internal scolding changed how she felt around him.
They hit another bump and her maid straightened her bonnet.
"Only one more mile, Sarah."
They were taking some much needed food items to one of Pemberley's tenants. This would be one of the last times she had the chance to drive around the estate as she would be leaving for London and who knew when she'd return, if ever. If all went as planned, she'd make her debut, meet a suitable gentleman, fall in love and get married.
Her stomach clenched again.
*~*~* 
 

Monday

Mondays With Jane ~ Persuasion 1

Chapter One
Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensation, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt, as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century - and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest that never failed - this was the page on which the favourite volume was always opened:

'ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH HALL.

'Walter Elliot, born March 8, 1760, married July 15, 1784, Elizabeth, daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of Gloucester; by which lady (who died in 1800) he has issue Elizabeth, born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son, Nov 5, 1789; Mary, born Nov. 20, 1791.'
Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from the printer's hands; but Sir Walter had improved it by adding, for the information of himself and his family, these words, after the date of Mary's birth - 'married, Dec 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles Musgrove, Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset,' - and by inserting most accurately the day of the month on which he had lost his wife.
Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and respected family, in the usual terms: how it had first settled in Cheshire; how mentioned in Dugdale - serving the office of High Sheriff, representing a borough in three successive parliaments, exertions of loyalty, and dignity of baronet, in the first year of Charles II, with all the Marys and Elizabeths they had married; forming altogether two handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding with the arms and motto: 'Principle seat, Kellynch Hall, in the county of Somerset,' and Sir Walter's hand-writing again in the finale:
'Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson of the second Sir Walter.'
Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character; vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did; nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and devotion.

Wow - Think much of yourself, Sir Walter? Can you hear the wit and sarcasm in Jane's words? I'd love to hear your thoughts of the beginning of Persuasion.


Saturday

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #39

Welcome friends. I hope that Canada's 150th birthday on July 1 was drier for my Canadian friends than it was for me, and I lived in envy at the beautiful weather my American friends had for their Fourth of July celebrations. Now that the holiday fever is behind us, it's time to get our butts back into the chair and our hands on the keyboard. I've set a goal of 30K words this month and I'm behind by 30K.... *sigh*

Kitty has been deposited on a couch in the drawing room. Lord George has stayed to supper and as soon as it was polite, joined her in the drawing room.
Standing by the fireplace he watched her with what she'd come to recognize as a habitual grin. Normally she would have fussed and fidgeted, but the slightest movement incurred a biting pain.
"I believe you are the most fetching patient Mr. Wilson has had these past few months," Lord George offered as a conversation starter. "I overheard him tell your father that all he treats lately are red coated soldiers with broken noses and twisted shoulders from holding their muskets the wrong way and not learning when to duck."
"I would rather the injuries happen here than on French soil," Kitty said, thinking about the young men who would never return to Meryton. Maria Lucas worried constantly about her brother Jonathan as they hadn't heard from him in over a month.
At one time Kitty fancied herself in love with the tall, lanky boy, not hard to do when they were such close neighbours, but he never saw her in the same light. Over time and few shed tears she learned to treasure their friendship and when he'd enlisted, she'd added him to her daily prayers along with Lydia, Elizabeth, Jane and Georgiana.
"There are many who live for the day that L'Corse is defeated," Lord George muttered, the muscles along his jawline clenching as his lips formed a thin line.
There were bitter tones laced throughout that statement and she was filled with curiosity at his brief display of emotion.  
Check out other participants in Weekend Writing Warriors HERE.


WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS #38

Happy 150th Birthday Canada!
I'm continuing with Kitty and Lord George who have arrived at Longbourn. Lord George has Kitty in his arms and Mrs. Bennet is having a fit of vapors. I've skipped past some mundane conversation in order to keep your interest and not leave you glassy-eyed at the end of this snippet. *insert cheeky grin*
Lord George followed Mr. Bennet, taking care not to bump the door frames or any furniture that loomed in their path and Kitty was reminded of how gentle he'd been throughout this whole ordeal. He carried her as though she were a feather pillow and all too soon found herself being deposited on one of the couches in the parlor.
"I must check on Buttons, Miss Bennet, I shall return shortly." Lord George stepped back and gave her a polite bow.
Kitty watched him depart, thankful she was not standing because her legs felt as though they had the rigidity of an embroidery thread. He took her breath away and if she weren't careful, her heart could become more involved, and that wouldn't do.
Within the hour the local doctor, Mr. Wilson, had attended Longbourn and treated both she and her mother. One for a fractured rib and sprained ankle, the other for her nervous disposition.
With her ribs and ankle bound tight, Kitty attempted to rest on one of the settees scattered about the drawing room. Lord George had stayed to dinner and as soon as it was polite, joined her.
Have a great week, and for my American friends, have a safe July 4 holiday. Check out other participants in WeWriWa HERE.

Banner Ad: CAROLINE
BUY LINK