Wedding anniversary Tribute

Here I am with Eivind at our Nowegian
ceremony

I spent most of 1994 living in the town of Hamar, about an hour and a half north of Oslo, Norway, with my fiancé's parents, Elsa and Gunnar Eikli. Eivind and I had arrived from Botswana on what was supposed to be a three week holiday in Norway where I was to meet his parents, before Eivind was to begin a one-year survey flying contract in Namibia, taking me with him.

Eivind and I had met the previous year in Botswana where he'd been Chief Pilot for Ngami Air, flying tourists and supplies between the many small camps (which are surrounded by water for much of the year) while I was working as a relief manager at Mombo, one of several luxury safari lodges owned by Okavango Wilderness Safaris. My dad had been born and brought up in Botswana and I'd discovered his father's photographic diaries of his amazing years as a young administrator in what was then Bechuanaland between 1916 and 1922. Gerald Nettelton, my grandfather, had gone on to have a long and esteemed career in the Colonial Service, just as my dad did in Lesotho, where he was working as a District Commissioner in the mountainous region of Mokhotlong, when I was born.

There was so much rain during our wedding
ceremony we didn't take any outside
pictures until the following day.

 My dad, Spencer Nettelton, had been private secretary to        Lesotho's first democratically elected PM, Chief Leabua Jonathan, and he'd organised the Independence Celebrations, however several years later he'd taken his young family to Australia and I'd grown up in Adelaide, South Australia.

I was a journalist on Adelaide's The Advertiser when I'd come upon Grandpa's diaries. An unexpectedly lucrative freelance commission on SA Homes Magazine enabled me to travel on holiday, with dad to Botswana, and there I'd met the manager of Okavango Wilderness Safaris, Chris Kruger, who invited me to return some months later to take up the two month relief management job. I met Eivind around a camp fire the day before I was due to return to Adelaide.

Eivind and me at Bungaree, Clare, SA

After 8 months of letter writing - the slow, old fashioned way, for letters took two weeks between Adelaide and Maun (which is the gateway to the game-rich Okavango and fondly referred to, by us, as the Dirty, Dusty Domestic Donkey Den), Eivind visited me in Australia and proposed. We'd spent two weeks in each other's company but felt we knew each other thoroughly through our letters.

 

C 1918 Grandpa on his mule when
 surveying the tsetse fly belt.
(Mules, unlike horses,
 don't suffer sleeping sickness.)

So, fast forward to 1994 where I had the absolute pleasure of getting to know Eivind's family. Elsa - who sadly passed away several years ago - and Gunnar who is a sprightly 96-year-old who still lives in the family home - made me feel a treasured daughter-in-law. Elsa taught me to knit the traditional Norwegian sweaters (Eivind's sister, Kristin, continues to help out with patterns and advice) and they both patiently helped me come to grips with the Norwegian language.

The 'postal service' C1918

Eivind's and my three weeks gradually turned into ten months as the promised Namibian contract was continually delayed. Although we were made to feel so welcome, our spirits suffered, as did our bank balances through ten months of no income. We'd run out of money to return to Australia and had to cancel the wedding planned in the Clare Valley, South Australia.

Finally, the Namibian job was a happening thing with a starting date just a couple of weeks hence. Now we needed to get married in a hurry. Eivind was in Canada, renewing his licence so he could fly in Norway (who didn't recognise the Botswana waiver) when the news came through.

Via fax, we decided to get married in a Registry Office after Eivind returned to Norway. Then Eivind's eldest brother, Erling, editor of the Norwegian Defence Force Magazine, told us he could organise for us to be married at Akershus Festning, the beautiful chapel in Oslo Castle where Norwegian Royalty and members of the Defence Forces get married. He could get us a date the following Friday, September 23rd.

Bronte Manor, the mud brick family home
 we build by hand
(including making the mud bricks)
 in the Clare Valley.
Dad and my sister now run it as a B&B.

I faxed Eivind, along the lines of, 'Hi Darling, do you want to marry me at Akershus Festning next Friday at 2pm?' and he faxed back, 'Sounds a great idea.'

So that's what happened. In Norway many brides marry in the traditional Bunad, so I was kitted out in a beautiful array of Norwegian finery: my 16-year-old niece, Inger-Lise's Oslo bunad, hand embroidered by her mother, Astri, together with the

traditional Norwegian pewter jewellery. The closest of our Norwegian family were all in attendance (my wonderful sisters-in-law, Britt, Kristin and Astri - for Eivind is the youngest of five and has 94 first cousins) while my mum arrived on a week's notice from Australia, still suffering the horrible side-effects of her breast cancer treatment.

After ten years of marriage we now had the first of two
daughters

It was a sunny, happy day, as you can see from the photographs, and within a couple of days we were off to Namibia to start what would be - for me - the beginning of a truly wonderful four-year career as an airborne geophysical survey operator, working the computer equipment in the back of Cessna 404s and CASA 212s, in Greenland, French Guiana, Sweden and Botswana.

The following year we made it back to Australia where we renewed our vows on November 4th, 1995, in the little church at Bungaree Station just north of Clare in the Clare Valley, South Australia. Mum had given me away at my Norwegian ceremony and now dad 'gave me away' in our Australian vows renewal.

My brother-in-law, Gudmund, and my lovely sister-in-law
Britt Eikli

Immediately afterwards we returned to where we would be based for three years - Ottawa, in Canada, now that we were working for Fugro, a Canadian survey company. They'd employed me on the basis that my low 45kg weight made up for my lack of technical training since it meant the pilot could now upload more fuel and therefore fly more lines during each 8-hour sortie.

My sister-in-law Kristin, and parents-in-law, Elsa and
Gunnar

Six months later, my darling mother died unexpectedly. I was in Canada and Eivind was flying in Namibia when the call came through that she was failing fast. Eivind caught the next flight from Windhoek, arriving a little earlier than I did from Ottawa, and my two younger sisters were there (Penny from Botswana, T from the Gold Coast), at mum's bedside in the small Clare country hospital where we we were able to say goodbye. Mum had suffered a massive heart attack several years earlier as the result of being injected with someone else's stem cells during experimental Triple Dose Chemotherapy treatment and she'd never regained her strength fully.

So on this day, November 4th, I remember the joys of two fabulous wedding ceremonies, with two wonderful families who have made me feel a true daughter on both sides of the globe. It's a fitting opportunity to pay tribute to a truly kind, interesting and gorgeous husband who has led me on such an exciting ride as we've made our home in 12 countries or cities during nearly twenty years of marriage. And it's a chance to honour my own parents: my mother, Gail, who could see I was in good hands when I married, even if she never saw

Granny, dad and mum when dad was awarded his
medal at Buckingham Palace

her grandchildren; and my lovely dad, still hale and hearty at 82 and living at Wuthering Heights, the family property in the Clare Valley. We've been working on his memoirs for many years and he's been the sounding board for my illegal diamond buying 1960s Lesotho-set thriller I'm about to submit to my publisher, Choc Lit.

Hard to believe that year it'll be twenty years. That sounds a long time, yet I feel like I've packed several lifetimes into what I've had. So, thank you, Eivind, for giving me what I really need in marriage: excitement. It hasn't always been smooth sailing, with broken backs, the ups and downs of airline companies folding and corruption in the Pacific throwing another

My beautiful mother, Gail, with me as a baby

unexpected curve ball - but it's always been interesting.

Dad last August in Qld

Aussie actor was a great icebreaker

Rob took this of me with my 2014 release, behind -
The Maid of Milan. I look a little mealie-mouthed.

I'm very happy to say the costume talk was great, very well attended, people enjoyed it, Romsey Library put on a fabulous afternoon tea, and I sold quite a few books.

I now also have a chauffeur and someone to introduce me, for this, and my upcoming talks...thank you, Rob Greer :)

Rob is one of my former writing students, a charming, charismatic retired stage and screen actor who appeared on Aussie television in favourites like Homocide and Division Four, as well as overseas with English actors, including Derek Nimmo and Sid James.

Not only did Rob pick me up and drive me to Romsey - after DH had laced me into my corset and helped me into my regalia - he provided a spontaneous and hugely appreciated ice-breaker.

I was in a back room doing last-minute preparations as the audience was seating themselves, and when I approached the side entrance to do the talk, Rob was up the front entertaining the room with his jokes. These went down really well, and no sooner had Rob sat down than an Irish gentleman sitting in the front row stood up and told his own joke. So there was my ice breaker, and a wonderful way to get everyone relaxed and already enjoying themselves by the time I walked on to talk about the changes in fashion from 1760 - 1820. One of the women asked Rob if he was my father so he reckoned that at the Kyneton Library talk on November 14th he'll give them some touching anecdote about 'my childhood'. 

Here's a nice added extra: one of the ladies tapped me on the shoulder during the tea, afterwards, and told me her friend had read The Reluctant Bride in a weekend. She added, "My friend said I had to read it, too, so it was just such a coincidence that you were doing this talk in Romsey."

Now everybody, one final thing - please drop by The Romance Reviews End of Year Splash Party http://www.theromancereviews.com/event.php to answer an easy question on The Reluctant Bride in order to win a prize. There are loads of prizes to be won, and my book is up there from November 1 - 5.

I'd love to see you! 

'History Through Costume' Talk at Romsey Library on Wed. Oct 30th

By Beverley Eikli

Last minute preparations are keeping me busy, ready for my talk on Wednesday at the Romsey Library.

'From Georgian Splendour to Regency Simplicity' is the title and I'll be wearing a 1780s polonaise made from Janet Waugh's iconic pattern book and referring to a mannequin wearing a simple 1805 Jane Austen muslin gown (again, using one of Waugh's patterns). Janet Waugh deconstructed a great many gowns found in historic homes throughout the UK and has produced them as patterns, which costumers and dressmakers can enlarge.

I started making the costume quite by impulse when I found two russet silk curtains priced at $1.99 in an op shop. I'd long wanted to make a Georgian gown but knew the cost would be prohibitive if I wanted to use beautiful, authentic material. So this was a serendipitous find.

Of course, that impetuousness resulted in a great deal more work than I'd anticipated, since I quickly realised that if I were making an authentic gown, then of course the underwear of today wouldn't do. Our modern day bras and no corsets, or I should say, stays (which was the term used in pre-Regency days) would create a body shape that would fit into the Janet Waugh gown I was spending so much time making.

I therefore started researching corsets and stays and settled upon half boned stays from the 1780s. These give my body the required 'barrel-shaped' torso required for the fashions of the day, pushing up my cleavage into what was referred artistically as 'rising moons'. After that I had to make panniers to create the wide hips.

Anyway, there are lots of pictures of these items and of the dress on this and other places I've blogged, though I will post a couple of pictures here, of the patterns used.

So on Wednesday at 2pm I'll be at the Romsey Library, about an hour north of Melbourne, doing my talk. It is in fact one of six costume/author talks scheduled for this month.

Kyneton Library (Nov 14) and City of Melbourne Library (Nov 4) are hosting the costume talks, and then I'll be celebrating the launch of my new book The Reluctant Bride at the Clare Valley Writers Festival on Wed November 17th.

So now I've returned to this late and will post with lots of pictures tomorrow.

Please visit me at one of these locations....

Here I am in costume at the Bendigo Writers Council

Please spread the word because it's all FREE (Victorian and South Australian
events)

I'm doing a History through Costume Talk at the City of Melbourne Library on Monday November 4, from 6pm - 8pm, (followed by three weeks of writing workshops on Mondays at the same time.)

I'm teaching a 4-week romance writing class at the CAE, Flinders Lane, starting Saturday Nov 2, 10am - 1pm.

I've also got Costume Talks at:

Romsey Library, Wed Oct 30, 2-4pm
Kyneton Library, Thurs Nov 14th, 2.30 - 4.30pm

as well as author talks at Gisborne Book Bonding Bookstore (Thurs Nov 21 at 7pm; and
Lancefield's Red Door Books, Saturday Nov 23, 10.30am (to coincide with Market Day).

Also, another Costume Talk in South Australia at the Clare Valley Writers Festival, next to Collins Books, on Wednesday November 27 at 7pm.

I'd be really grateful if you could spread the word. They're all FREE. And I would love to see you at any of those events.

The Reluctant Bride

The Reluctant Bride

The Reluctant Bride

The Reluctant Bride

Lady Farquhar's Butterfly is now a new ebook

I love metamorphoses. I like to think we all, in some way, metamorphose into something resembling what we'd like the world to see.

I was once the closet writer, too shy to call myself a writer because I felt I was putting tickets on myself to imagine I could one day write like my idols.

But now I'm working on edits for my eighth book, The Maid of Milan, to be published in March 2014 by Choc Lit. My debut with them is my winning entry The Reluctant Bride which has just been released.

Originally published in hard cover several years ago, my second book, Lady Farquhar's Butterfly, is now an ebook. It's a Regency romance about an abused wife, now a widow, who metamorphoses into the woman she wants the world to see, only to have her newfound happiness and position threatened by the malignant forces of her husband's influence beyond the grave.

I've just now uploaded it as a pre-order and on November 4 - my 19th wedding anniversary - it will be officially released. I chose that date as it was one of such hope and expectation all those years ago; and happily all those expectations were met. Unlike poor Olivia, the lively Regency 'party girl' who married the 'bad boy' and lived to rue the day.

So if you like historical romantic suspense, why not check it out HERE - and order it during the next month when the pre-order price comes with a 33% discount. It's not only readers who benefit from a lower price; a book gains much greater visibility due to the amount of pre-orders it receives.

Here is the premise of Lady Farquhar's Butterfly:

Falsely branded an adulteress and stripped of her child by her vengeful late husband, Olivia is desperate to escape her grim past. But when her charade to reclaim her son results in a deep and unexpected love with her son's kind and charming guardian, Max, Olivia fears that blackmail, revenge and possibly murder will continue to stalk her.

And here are some reviews from Long And Short Reviews, Red Roses for Authors, and Books Monthly:

LAS Reviewer

Format:Hardcover

Originally posted at: [...]

Sweet with heat and hard to beat, Lady Farquhar's Butterfly gains momentum as it builds to a terrifying climax.

The imagery of a fiery-eyed stallion rearing over Olivia, who has fallen in the mud, and its reminding her of her cruel, now-dead husband gives a clue to what she suffered at his hands.

Olivia wants her two-and-half-year-old son back who is in the care of her late husband's cousin. She been lead to believe her soul is destined for hell because of her past actions; but she wants to raise her child, while she is on earth, and is willing to do whatever it takes to do so. An error in judgment when she was seventeen years old governs much of what she does. Even though she is a beautiful, attention-grabbing woman on the outside, she feels ugly and horrid on the inside.

Max Atherton sells his commission in the army and returns home to be the guardian for his cousin, Lucien's little boy and to run the estate until the child reaches his twenty-first birthday so he can take over his inheritance. Max has no idea of what a life-changing experience awaits him.

The Rev. Nathaniel Kirkmen, confessor for the now-dead Lucien and the consoler and advisor to Olivia, Lucien's widow, has woven and continues to weave a web of lies so tightly around Olivia with his pseudo-piety that she feels helpless to do anything other than what he says to do, until...

Beverly Eirki's concise, smooth, and subtle writing reveals characters and their motivations with a style that makes Lady Farquhar's Butterfly fascinating--a thoroughly enjoyable, page-turner of a tale.

So, if you think it's the sort of book that you might enjoy whiling away a few hours with, you can...

PRE-ORDER HERE

Thank you :)

Read Excerpts from The Reluctant Bride - here...

But first, here's an update on edits for The Maid of Milan which requires a tremendous amount of work to get it ready for its October 10 deadline. I expect I'll get there but the timing has coincided with school holidays and with a pilot husband flying long haul it is challenging to do any kind of work with children making regular demands - as they should be entitled to do when they've got mummy around and they're on holiday:)

I'll get there, though. I'm at page 135 out of 375 so my early morning sessions which start at 5am when the house is silent, are paying off.

In other wonderful news, I just sold the Large Print rights of the final two of my three Regencies first published by Robert Hale, to Ulverscroft. Now Lady Sarah's Redemption (my very first book) and A Little Deception (which was shortlisted Favourite Historical for 2011 and which I extensively revised last year) will join Lady Farquhar's Butterfly, which was always a bit of a favourite.

Lady Farqhar's Butterfly is due for ebook release on September 30th or thereabouts, and I'm excited about that. I've always liked this story which is a psychological study of a woman branded an adulteress and stripped of her infant son by her vengeful late husband. There's a big underlying mystery at the heart of it, too, as she seeks to reclaim what is hers, first through deception and ultimately through very different means.

But now here's the blurb for the WORK IN PROGRESS  -  The Maid of Milan

After two years of marriage, Adelaide has fallen in love with the handsome, honourable husband who nurtured her through her darkest hours.

Now Adelaide’s former lover, the passionate poet from whose arms she was torn by her family during their illicit liaison in Milan six years previously has returned, a celebrity due to the success of his book The Maid of Milan.

High society is as desperate to discover the identity of his ‘muse’ as Adelaide is to protect her newfound love and her husband’s political career.

If only the men had not been childhood friends.

Published by Choc Lit

March 2014

www.beverleyeikli.com

And now for Excerpts from ..

THE RELUCTANT BRIDE

Chapter One

Spring 1813

‘It’s not a sin, unless you get caught.’

The gentle breeze seemed to whisper Jack’s teasing challenge, its soft, silken fingers tugging at Emily’s ingrained obedience. She put down her basket and stared with longing at the waters below, sweat prickling her scalp beneath her poke bonnet as desire warred with fear of the consequences.

‘Where’s your sense of adventure, Em?’

Still resisting, Emily closed her eyes, but the wind’s wicked suggestiveness was like the caress of Jack’s breath against her heated cheek; daring Emily to shrug aside a lifetime of dutiful subservience – again – and peel off her clothes, this time to plunge into the inviting stream beneath the willows.

She imagined Jack’s warm brown eyes glinting with wickedness. Taunting her like the burr that had worked its way into the heel of her woollen stockings during her walk.

Exhaling on a sigh, Emily opened her eyes and admitted defeat as she succumbed to the pull of the reed-fringed

waters.

Desire had won, justified by practicality. If she had to remove one stocking to dislodge the burr she might as well remove both.

Scrambling down the embankment, she lowered herself onto a rock by the water’s edge. Her father would never know. If he glanced from his study in the tower room, where he was doubtless gloating over his balance sheet, he’d assume she was a village lass making her way along the track. Emily had never seen him interest himself in the poor except …

Like most unpleasant memories, she tried to cast this one out with a toss of her head, still glad her father had never

discovered what she’d witnessed from her bedroom window one evening five years ago: the curious sight of Bartholomew

Micklen ushering the beggar girl who’d arrived on his doorstep into his carriage.

Then climbing in after her before it rumbled down the driveway and out of sight.

Now was just another of those moments when Emily was glad her father remained in ignorance. Her insurance, should she need it, was that she knew a few of her father’s secrets the excise men might just want to know.

By the time the first stocking had followed Emily’s boots onto the grassy bank she was bursting with anticipation for her swim.

What did one more sin matter when she’d be Mrs Jack Noble in less than a week?

END OF EXCERPT #1

EXCERPT #2

In this excerpt Angus has visited the woman he's loved from afar to tell her that her fiance has just been killed. Unfortunately he tells her a lie to spare her pain; a lie that returns to haunt him after he's made her his 'reluctant bride'.

Major Angus McCartney was out of his depth.

He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Only five minutes in this gloomy, oppressive parlour after the women

had arrived and he was questioning his ability to complete his mission, a feeling he’d not experienced before Corunna

four years before.

He’d been unprepared for the assault on his senses unleashed by the beautiful Miss Micklen. He shifted position once more, fingering the letters that belonged to her. For two years he’d carried the memory of the young woman before him as a confident, radiant creature in a white muslin ball gown with a powder-blue sash. Now her tragic, disbelieving gaze unleashed a flood of memory, for in her distress she bore no resemblance to the paragon of beauty at the Regimental Ball, a bright memory in an otherwise tormented year after he’d been invalided out of Spain. Clearly Miss Micklen did not remember him.

She’d remember him forever now: as the harbinger of doom, for as surely as if he’d pulled the trigger he’d just consigned her hopes and dreams to cinders.

She turned suddenly, catching him by surprise, and the painful, searing memory of the last time he’d confronted such grief tore through him.

Corunna again. As if presented on a platter, the image of the soldier’s woman he’d assisted flashed before his eyes, forcing him to draw a sustaining breath as he battled with the familiar self-reproach which threatened to unman him.

He reminded himself he was here to do good.

‘A skirmish near the barracks?’ the young woman whispered, resting her hands upon her crippled mother’s shoulders. ‘Last Wednesday?’

‘That is correct, ma’am.’

Mrs Micklen muttered some incoherent words, presumably of sympathy. Angus pitied them both: Miss Micklen digesting her sudden bereavement, and the mother for her affliction. The older woman sat hunched in her chair by the fire, unable to turn her head, her claw-like hands trembling in her lap.

He cleared his throat, wishing he’d taken more account of his acknowledged clumsiness with the fairer sex. He was not up to the task. He’d dismissed the cautions of his fellow officers, arrogantly thinking he’d be shirking his duty were he not the one to deliver the news. It was condolences he should be offering, and he had not the first idea how to appeal to a frail feminine heart.

Nor was he accustomed to the lies tripping off his tongue as he added, ‘A tragic mishap, ma’am, but Captain Noble acquitted himself with honour to the end.’

Miss Micklen’s gaze lanced him with its intensity. Tears glistened, held in check by her dark lashes. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered, moving to draw aside the heavy green velvet curtain and stare at the dipping sun. ‘Jack told me he was on the Continent.’

Choosing not to refute Jack’s lie, he said carefully, ‘An altercation occurred between a group of infantry in which I was unwittingly involved. When Captain Noble came to my assistance he was struck a mortal blow to the head. I’m sorry, Miss Micklen.’

He wished he knew how to offer comfort. The beautiful Miss Micklen of the Christmas Regimental Ball had seemed all-powerful in her cocoon of happy confidence. Unobtainable as the stars in heaven, he’d thought as he’d watched her skirt the dance floor in the arms of the unworthy Jack Noble. For so long he’d carried Miss Micklen’s image close to his heart and this was the first time he’d been reminded of Jessamine.

God, how weary he was of war.

END OF EXCERPT #2

EXCERPT #3

Angus and Emily, newly married, have just been visited unexpectedly by Angus’s brother and his unsuitable consort. Emily, embarrassed by her highly pregnant state and knowing it will cause gossip amongst Angus’s family, reacts in this scene to her husband’s apologies for the situation Emily has just confronted.

With deliberate care Emily set down the plates once more and turned to look at her husband through narrowed eyes.

‘For contaminating me with a lady of dubious repute? But Angus, how much worse a contaminant would I have been had you not married me?’ She patted her swollen belly. ‘You’d be apologising to your brother. A fallen woman—’

‘Don’t speak like that.’ His wide-set eyes burned with undeserved defence of her. ‘Men’s impulses can be ungovernable, but ladies do not suffer such … urges … You

were … taken advantage of.’

Emily stared at him. She sucked in a long, quavering breath as her simmering anger came finally to the boil. Is that what he believed? That she was insensible to passion? And that was a good thing?

‘What would you say if I told you that my impulses were every bit as ungovernable as Jack’s?’ She could barely control her anger sufficiently to speak. For days she had forced her

feelings into the background, using the same emotional device against her unwanted husband as she had when her father insulted her, shutting out the hurt by erecting a barrier

as impenetrable as steel.

Now, feeling surged through her, blackening her vision and causing her to sway. She put her hand on the back of the sofa to steady herself.

Angus stood awkwardly by the door, as if unsure whether to move closer to support her, or beat a tactful retreat.

Emily glared at him. ‘What if I told you that I was so consumed by passion in Jack’s arms I would not have heeded the Blessed Virgin Mary cautioning me against the temptations of the flesh?’ She tried to regulate her breathing, but the rage was clawing its way further up her body, threatening to make her its puppet. She, who never lost her temper. ‘I loved Jack. I was his slave in passion, every bit as culpable as he. If you are so concerned for virtue, spare your condemnation of innocent Miss Galway. You need only cast your eyes upon your wife to be singed by my sin. There! I have confessed my true nature. Whatever you thought of me before, you cannot but think worse of me now.’ She registered the horror in his eyes and was glad for it. Much better that she banish any pretence between them.

She’d never expressed anger as poisonous as this. At first it frightened her, then it sent exhilaration pulsing through her. Her love for Jack had been cut off at the root. Now hatred filled her veins, making her feel alive again. ‘And so you know, I care nothing for your opinion,’ she added.

She managed to remain upright, though her vision came in waves. She could feel her strength leaving her, but she had to spit out the truth so he’d have no illusions as to the kind of woman he’d married. A woman no good man deserved.

‘You married me because you needed a wife. I married you so I could keep my child. We made a contract. My body is yours to do with as you please, but that is all you will ever have. My thoughts, my feelings, my love will be forever out of bounds to you.’

END OF EXCERPT

EXCERPT #4

In this scene Angus has just proposed to Emily his plan of inviting Emily’s father to visit.

‘If you think he’ll forgive me you know nothing of my father!’ She jerked forward in the bed. ‘Reconciliation is not possible!’

Instead of declaring roundly, as Jack might have done, that he’d make sure it all came to pass, Angus took a while to gather his thoughts. ‘You are respectably married,’ he said slowly. ‘The child will be born legitimate. You’ve brought no shame upon your family. Restoring ties between you and your father is important.’

‘No, you don’t understand.’ She was close to tears as she gripped his hands which were suddenly clasping hers. ‘Papa is vengeful. I sinned. If he could find another way to compound my suffering, my shame, he’d do it.’

Angus hunkered down to take her in his arms and as she was squeezed gently but firmly she felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. Not the movement of the baby and something that was quite definitely more than just gratitude for his concern.

‘You belong to me now, not your father,’ he soothed.

With her ear pressed against his bare chest once again, Emily could hear the strong staccato beat of his heart. The strength of his arms around her was strangely comforting, for indeed the domineering spectre of Bartholomew Micklen did seem diluted.

Gently he lay her back down on the pillow and for a long moment she stared at him as if he were not the husband forced upon her whom she despised.

Still, it was important Angus understand. She clasped her hands and pleaded, ‘Don’t petition my father for forgiveness. It will only give him another focus for his dissatisfaction with me.’ She turned her head away.

‘Then I want to be the means by which you are reconciled. I can do that, Emily.’

She sucked in a quavering breath. ‘I don’t know why you’re so concerned that I mend ties with my father. It’s not as if I came with a dowry dependent upon his goodwill.’

Almost viciously she added, ‘And it’s not as if you married for love.’

In the lengthening silence she regretted her words, but it was too late. Miserably she stared at the wall.

Angus stroked her hands which plucked at the bedcovers. Then, leaning over her, he kissed her brow, his murmured words filling her with immediate warmth only to be swept away by fear of her own failings. ‘My dear Emily, I married where I thought I might find it.’

Thank you - & back to the hard work

Thank you to everyone who dropped by at one of the 48 stops of my Blog Tour to leave a comment. I felt very well supported. A random winner has now been chosen for commenting and I'll be sending Eva her $20 Amazon Gift Voucher very soon.

So now it's back to the hard slog of working on my current project, Lammergeier Rock, my Lesotho-set illegal diamond buying romantic suspense.

I just wish it felt like I was doing justice to it. I'm pretty tired out by the promoting I've been doing for The Reluctant Bride and I really shouldn't be obsessing over rankings but I do wonder why Amazon UK rankings are so much better than Amazon.com rankings when I feel I do much more promoting here and in the US. No doubt it's because my publisher Choc Lit and their amazing publicists are so good at their jobs.

But what really cheers me up is that the reviews have been consistently very good - even great! Slowly they're trickling in and I'm fascinated by what people find to stay about it: 'This book has a slow boil. It starts as a romance and quickly turns into a fantastic action/adventure story'. It's been called "The darker side of the Regency' and a gripping Napoleonic espionage romance.

And after all, it's not officially released in paperback until next Sunday, September 15.

So, it's time to stop wasting time looking at rankings and instead concentrate on what actually brings results.

Off to ice the macaroons I've made for tonight's Presentation at Bendigo Writers Council where I'm the guest speaker and will be wearing my 1780s polonaise and talking about 'It's all the Detail'.

Now that's something I'm really looking forward to.

The Reluctant Bride Book Blast Tour

September is the launch month of my Napoleonic espionage romantic suspense The Reluctant Bride. The official date is September 15 however the book has been out on Kindle for a couple of weeks and, I'm pleased to say, garnered a few 4* and 5-Star reviews.

I've got the list of its appearances, which will be accompanied by a range of excerpts, below.

At the end of the tour I'm awarding a $20 Amazon Gift Voucher to a random commenter, so please drop by and say something about what you like about the Napoleonic or Regency period - whether it's the clothes, history, etc. Something else that would be extra nice is if you'd 'like' the page on each blog.

I'm always three steps behind when it comes to technology and I just read five minutes ago that 'liking' a page can double traffic. So how about that? And goodness, I do want my conscience-stricken, battled hardened but soft-in-the-middle hero Angus to get some of the appreciation he deserves - because he certainly doesn't get it from his adored Emily who believes the lie he's told her to spare her pain; that unfortunate lie that's come back to haunt him after she becomes his 'reluctant bride'.

September 2:
1. Long Ago Love
2. Sexy Adventures, Passionate Tales
3. Rose and Beps Blog
4. Deal Sharing Aunt
5. United By Books
6. Dawn's Reading Nook Blog

September 3: 
1. Happily Ever After
2. Margay Leah Justice
3. Wickedly Wanton Tales
4. Sandra's Blog
5. Susana's Morning Room
6. Writer Wonderland
7. Sugarbeat's Books
8. Welcome to My World of Dreams 

September 4:
1. Room With Books
2. Author Jinni James
3. JM Stewart
4. The Crafty Cauldron
5. My Devotional Thoughts
6. Farm Girl Books
7. The Simple Things in Life
8. Straight from the Library

September 5:
1. Sue Perkins Author
2. Hope Dreams. Life... Love
3. Tina Donahue Presents
4. Andi's Book Reviews
5. Lisa Haselton's Reviews and Interviews
6. The Outside Lane
7. Sharing Links and Wisdom
8. Long and Short Reviews

September 6: 
1. Jody's Book Reviews and Giveaways
2. Writer Wonderland
3. Novel Moments
4. Linda Nightingale-Wordsmith
5. Blue Rose Romance
6. Art of Ambrosia
7. Book2Buzz
8. It's Raining Books 
9. Melissa MacKinnon | Author
10. Stitch Read Cook