Five reasons not to want your book in paperback.

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Shehanne Moore, Soul Mate Publishing, The Writer and the Rake, Time-travel, Writing tips

 

She shifted on the chair. The door was there. Was she making a mistake not signing the silly bit of paper? What if he kept turning up at all her signings? She could scream. She could have him arrested. Given the way he flitted all over the place like a vampire bat, the prison didn’t exist that would hold him however. Signing would get rid of him for good. Signing would probably ensure none of this ever happened.

“Actually, if you do want my autograph . . .”

“Brittany, I’m not here for-–”

“I’ll give you it. I’ll sign your piece of paper too. It’s really no odds. You and your time-mutant friends want peace. That’s my choice and my pleasure. If not, don’t come back.”

His gaze, dull as his eyebrows, flickered over her.

“Do you really think you can stick to that?”

“Me?”

She reached forward. It was worth parting with another book to get rid of him, since he clung to his copy like a drowning mariner. She opened it, scraped the pen across the paper.

“To Mort, with all my love, Brittany Carter. Will that do? Hmm? Or do you want something more personalized? Like . . . well, I forbear to say.”

A shrug of his equally un-expressive shoulders. “Whatever suits you.”

“Well, what suits me is for you to go away, Mort. So if you’d also care to hand me that bit of paper, I’ll also prove I’m as good as my word. Just make sure, you don’t go bursting into flames in here. Although they do say there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

Copyright Shehanne Moore Soul Mate Publishing

 

 

 

 

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3 days quotes challenge and the ink is dry. .

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modern, New book, Quotes, Regency, Romance, scifi, Soul Mate Publishing, The Writer and the Rake, writing

 

 

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https://katemcclelland01.wordpress.com/ Kate McClelland

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All noisy on the writing front

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Addie Jo Ryleigh and a certain Temptation

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Addie Jo Ryleigh, Historical romance, Soul Mate Publishing, The Duke's Temptation, writing

 

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH Of course I do!! In fact, we have a little female who has become part of the family.  My youngest son got her for Christmas last year. Hamsters are adorable *wink wink*

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH Hmmm…not sure I could figure out how to insert a hamster into a story but I’m always up to the challenge. After all, in THE DUKE’S TEMPTATION, Phoebe was a doll loving, pirate hunting, three year old.

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH There is just something about historical romances that I enjoy. I think it is the extra rules that stand in the way. And how breaking those rules add to the tension. Such as with the Regency period were the brush of a hand could mean just as much as a kiss. Or when the lack of an introduction can’t stand in the way of a determined female. Not to mention the beautiful settings. A glittering ballroom. A ducal estate. So many possibilities.

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH The path to publication for THE DUKE’S TEMPTATION was a long but educational one. Being my very first release, it traveled with endless baby steps. Not sure which direction I wanted to go, I first queried agents while submitting my story to various contests.

Thanks to some contest wins, I had a few requests for my manuscript but it wasn’t until an editor at Soul Mate Publishing judged a contest when I found a home for Gabe and Elizabeth’s story. I continue to learn as I work on completing the Men of Circumstance series. As slow going as my path has been, I wouldn’t change a thing.

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH. As much as I love the cover for THE DUKE’S TEMPTATION, I’ve always had my own vision of Gabe. Part of my writing process is putting a face to my characters. If the good fairy was graciously granting my wish, I would hunt down Alex O’Loughlin to star as Gabe.

While it has always been easy for me to find an actor for my leading man, I have issues with their counterpart. In the end, I could see Candice Accola as a beautiful and determined Elizabeth.

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH.  I don’t have a special Christmas recipe but I wish I had more time to bake all the yummy goodies that come with the holiday. I keep telling myself…someday.

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH. With three young boys, Christmas will once again be filled with watching them enjoy the season and building great memories and traditions. We don’t have any big travel plans. We still live close to our extended family so we will spend the weekends around Christmas going from here to there. It gets to be a busy time but in the end it is all worth it.

ADDIE JO RYLEIGH. I continue to work on The Men of Circumstance series. I’m deep in edits for The Runner’s Enticement (book two), Nate’s story. It is slotted for release early summer 2016. I’m also finishing book three. It will be sad to one day finish the series but having Gabe, Nate, and Marcus’s stories completed will be a huge achievement.

 

Chapter 1

LONDON, ENGLAND

JULY 1816

Gabriel St. James, the sixth Duke of Wesbrook, locked his gaze on the lady—if one could even call her that. Having never dealt with this particular kind of lady before, he was not acquainted with the proper protocol.

Truth be told, he shouldn’t be so taken aback by the situation. He was, after all, his father’s son, and therefore destined to live the same debauched life. It still burned that after years of struggling against it, in the end, he’d had no choice but to grudgingly accept his place within the family line of scoundrels. His father had made sure there was no alternative.

He narrowed his eyes on the vision before him. To have his debauchery presented in such a fashion was something else entirely. Something he wasn’t certain he could withstand. He couldn’t deny that he gambled more often than not, consumed his fair share of liquor, and was a rake of the first order, but there were some lines he refused to cross. He’d vowed to never fully become his father.

That obviously failed. Not even he could dispute the proof standing there. The very evidence that confirmed he was more like the previous duke than he thought.

As much as he desired it, he could no longer ignore her—all thirty-six inches of her. Despite his confusion, there was no doubt the pixie-faced, three-year-old standing before him was his daughter. His illegitimate daughter.

There, he’d done it. He finally found a word to describe her. Daughter.

Fury pumped through his veins and caused his hand to tighten on the all-too-brief letter that had arrived with her. How the hell could he not have known he’d fathered a child three years ago? Denial might have been his gut reaction but in actuality there wasn’t a need for him to validate the information. He knew it was true. Her features might be feminine, but almost every scrap of her proclaimed she was a Wesbrook. From her wavy ebony hair that gave a hint of unruliness, to the way she raised her tiny chin under his scrutiny.

If that wasn’t enough to give credence to the girl’s lineage, her eyes said the rest. Penetrating blue eyes—a blue so rich it reminded him of the field of cornflowers growing wild on his estate—surrounded by lashes as dark as the night. Only one person had eyes like that.

Cecilia Fairchild, the child’s mother . . . the woman he’d almost married.

Social Links:

Website: www.addiejoryleigh.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/AddieJoRyleigh

Twitter: @AddieJoRyleigh

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/AddieJoRyleigh

Author Central: amazon.com/author/addiejoryleigh

Buy Link:

The Duke’s Temptation now available Amazon

In the autumn of 1018…. Halloween, the Vikings and the dark elves

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All Soul's Day, Halloween, Halloween recipes, October, recipes, Regency, Soul Mate Publishing, The Viking and The Courtesan, Viking Halloween, Vikings, writing

 

getty images.

 

Lady Malice : Not  a great deal. I’m not from Viking times.

Lady Malice: What is this? Twenty questions? Calculating how many pairs of shoes I can have from a hundred guineas is much more my forte.

Sin : Do let me help you out here, sweeting and let you get back to counting your shoes. Elves represent the souls of the dead that still reside in the world. The dark elves are those in purgatory, the fair elves are those souls  who are immortal .

Lady Malice : Elves wear such hideous shoes.

 Almost as bad as Viking ones.

Sin : I’m going to ignore that.

Also at the start of the winter…the date was later moved to All Soul’s Day… we hold a feast, and a sacrifice for a good season. An animal sacrifice.  Midwinter is  the time of ghosts and spirits, and more importantly of placating them after all. It’s nothing personal.

Sin : And we wear masks…. Animal masks…

Lady Malice : Sin, you scared them. They probably thought they were going to be the sacrifice or something…..  Well, never let it be said, we didn’t come bearing gifts for their Halloween party.

Masks.

  

A very special recipe….. Just the the thing to make them come back out of hiding.

Or maybe not……….

Blod Kaker (Filled Cake)   5 egg yolks 2 cups sugar 2 cups flour 1 tsp. baking powder 1 tsp. cold water   Beat egg yolks very thoroughly, until pale and thick.  Fold in other ingredients.  Bake in buttered cake pan for 1/2 hour.  Cut in 3 layers.  Moisten with sherry or lemon juice and water.  Fill with fruit, chocolate, or custard.  Cover with heavy coating of unsweetened whipped cream.

And of course because they are my favourite things after you my dearest, some Halloween shoes for them to put their little paws into …

Crème Custarde, or Bustarde, Gentle Viking recipes.

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Creme Bastarde, recipes, Romance, Shehanne Moore, Soul Mate Publishing, The Viking and The Courtesan, Viking Fish Soup, Viking food, Viking recipes, Vikings

Right dudes, Enough. Today, we are indeed going to sound it for a secondary character and welcome Gentle, from The Viking and The Courtesan. Gentle is a Saxon lady whose husband dumped her in a convent in order to get his mitts on her money and she is a sort of cook.  She and the heroine Malice, initially loathe one another on sight and cross swords on several occasions but do forge a friendship.  So, without further ado, let’s welcome her and hear a bit about…..

Ccooking up  a feast in Viking Norway.

Hello Shehanne, it’s so nice of you really to ask me here. I’m  a very plain cook.

In fact, so plain, I don’t mind what I throw in the pot.

See, from what I see round here, the Vikings ain’t fussy either. Lady Poshluggs- that’s Malice by the way, just don’t tell her I still call her that–turned up her nose at reindeer stew, when it was a delicacy it took me all day to burn..sorry prepare. 

The amount of cabbage and turnip I gets asked to boil is no-one’s business. And nuts, if I eats another nut, I will go just that. Though at least they do like their ale and mead. And so do I.

Now, where was I? Oh yes.   Having another tankard. I gets to do a lot of filling of them in the book. And not just other peoples’ neither when the occasional back is turned, although that Snotra has got eyes in the back of her head as well as the front I can tell you. She’s got a tongue like  a whip too which is why I can’t linger.

Now, you didn’t seem to like my Reindeer Stew recipe. Or my eels. So here’s my Viking soup recipe.

½ kg of trout, salmon, cod or another fish.

• 10-12 cups of water

• Salt

• One cup of milk

• 3-5 cups of herb such as the top shoots of stinging nettles, young dandelion leaves, ashweed, wild chervil, cress, wild marjorum, dill, plantain, angelica, wild onions, caraway greenery, parsley, thyme, … or whatever the season has to offer.
• 

Clean the fish, wash and cut into small pieces.

The slices of fish must be cooked until they are tender. This takes 20-30 minutes.

Put the cooked fish slices on a dish and bone them.

Put the fish back in the soup. Add the milk and chopped herbs.

The soup should now cook for about 20-30 minutes adding salt as desired. Then it is ready to be served. Fish soup can be served with flatbread.

A little dab of butter in the soup tastes good!

Although, with a little MEAT in it now…..

And now, my Creme Bastarde recipe.

4 hamster ….sorry, forgive me my transgressions,  that should have read, egg whites, beaten as much as Snotra likes to beat everyone in sight.
2 cups cream
1/4 cup honey
1/2 cup milk
pinch salt
2 tsp sugar

Beat the egg whites until just frothy. Mix into cream and bring to a boil slowly, stirring continuously. Simmer for about five more minutes, stirring continuously. Add the honey, the salt. Keep stirring. Then pour through a strainer.  Add the rest of the milk and the sugar and then beat it for a couple of minutes. Allow to cool. You know something you would be better buying a tin of custard, a tin opener. I’m sure Creme Custarde is what it should have said and  it gives you more time with the mead you see…..

Extract.

“Gentle.” His voice rumbled so close to Malice’s spine, it stiffened. “I thought I told you to go indoors?”

“But you also told me she’s got a handmaiden, Drottin. She won’t want me. Isn’t there something else I can do? Plough the fields? Build walls? Or cook…”

“Gentle…”

The huffed breath didn’t just say no. It said if she didn’t shut up she wouldn’t be anything. How was that? The man was made of ice. And it was hardening?

“And take Mother Bede with you, till I decide what to do with her.”

“But—”

“Sir, I can plough.” Malice couldn’t. Only think what it would do to her hands. Only think what it would do to her back. Only think of that moment when he held her on the Raven more. What if she liked it? Being his bed slave? What if she didn’t want to go home? What if Snotra set about her with the meat mallet?

How do my heroines’ gardens grow?

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blogging, Book tour, Catherine Cavendish, Dark Avenging Angel, heroines, Jane Hunt, Samhain, Soul Mate Publishing, The Viking and The Courtesan, Time-travel, Vikings

 

Alright…alright dudes, can we get with the program here?

Dudes, that was last week. This week…

Dudes, that’s tomorrow, although we are all going to say HAPPY RELEASE DAY CAT, my fav horror writer.  May you rock the charts!

This week…. this week you are welcoming me.

Okay dudes… what did I say about the program?

Because I want to thank Elyzabeth M. Valey for letting me blog about the ‘Heeling power of shoes.’

http://inadreambeyond.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/shoes-shoes-and-shehanne-moore.html

And also Jane Hunt for not only interviewing Lady Malice, but reviewing her as well with a lovely review.

http://jolliffe01.com/2015/07/29/an-interview-with-lady-malice-shehanne-moores-latest-new-release-the-viking-and-the-courtesan/

Then there was Lady Fury and her invite…but perhaps the less said about that the better.  http://t.co/wdB8rxWAo7

What I would like to say is I have been  popping corks that it has got into the top 100 in Viking and also Ancient World Romance on both Amazons –  an absolute  first for me. I know cos the lovely Cat Cavendish and Jane Hunt told me.

Anyway, when I was battering the brain thinking of doing blogs for the blog tour and trying to make them all different–like shoving bamboo sticks under the fingers, when you are still in ’round’ edits and that release date is ticking like a time bomb,  I thought I would take some pictures of my four book jackets for promo.

no I never I said PROMO not PORNO, do clean your sweet little ears out. And that was what had gave me the idea of the posts about handbags and shoes and defining my heroines through their personal tastes.  It is important when you are writing NOT to churn out the same characters with the exact same traits after all.  They might share certain things in common.

They are different. SO I took each book jacket into the garden and  tried to photograph them where I felt my four ladies would prefer.

Lady Fury, I chose the decking. It has mirrors and she does like looking at herself. Then there’s the pot. Very handy for hiding a body in. Not that she hides her hubby in a garden pot. No. Why keep him in there when there’s a cellar with a box in it.

I gave Sapphire the remodelled patio… It’s next to a herb garden you see and she might use some of these herbs as a help with Devorlane Hawley’s opium addiction. Oh wait… she also buried a body…with his help, in a herb garden.

I gave Kara and the Wolf the loggia.

I figured it was preferable to his cave and they could eat and he could cook in comfort. But hey who knows?

Lastly I gave Sin and Malice the courtyard.  Malice is rather appalled by what Sin regards as the height of Viking advancement with pigs, chickens and ducks snorting in and out the house floor  and clucking about the yard   and at one point  thinks it will be nothing to get rid of them all, WHEN she finally gets her mitts into  Sin…. To quote the lovely Alison Lodge and her wonderful review, you can tell that will NOT end well.

I thought Malice  welcome somewhere devoid of these things in the first place.

I quite enjoy when I’m writing, fleshing out the kind of clothes, hairstyles, bags, shoes etc, my heroines have and matching them to their personalities. If nothing else it gives me something to blog about!

Oh, and  a Happy HAPPY  Release Day tomorrow Cat Cavendish. https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2015/07/12/nemesis-a-darkly-avenging-angel-and-catherine-Cavendish/

Here we believe in the power of true love. Chapter one The Viking and the Courtesan

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Felicity Kates, New book, regency Romance, Romance, Shehanne Moore, Soul Mate Publishing, The Viking and The Courtesan, time travellers, Viking Romance

http://t.co/jsnEXvdGgR

 

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=107371819608880&ref=ts&fref=ts

Chapter One

Somewhere near Regent Street. London 1819.  

If she could not have a man, she would have shoes. Silver shoes with pearl encrusted buckles, delicate kidskin slippers with beribboned points, blue shoes, cream shoes, high throated pumps with clasps and buckles. While Malice Mallender hated to think she had grown a shade cynical about such things, shoes were a concept she knew many women would love and understand.

Upstairs, cracks ran like spider webs across the bedroom window and the landing roof leaked like a sieve. Spend a halfpenny on repairing the roof? On things that would make this place nice? She’d sooner swallow a crocodile. Whole. The humiliations she suffered could hardly be assuaged by possessing gleaming panes of glass the rain could run down unchecked, or a new Turkish rug to replace the one Agnes burnt with the fire tongs yesterday.

Shoes came from another world entirely. It was this or starve. There was a shortage of crocodiles in Regent’s Park.

Malice might as well throw off any bleak self-reflection about those things. A hundred guineas to ruin a marriage was nothing. A hundred guineas was a snip when she thought of the unsatisfactory state of her own life, never mind all the shoes for sale in Madam Faro’s shop window.

So there was no need to ask why the elegantly dressed woman with her tumble of red hair, seated opposite, candlelight playing about her features, had chosen to come to this discreet, carefully furnished salon, the only room in the house that was decent.

Lady Grace, the spidery scrawl on the visiting card, read. The scallop-edged vellum one that lay on her desk blotter. Lady Grace Newell.

From the looks of Lady Grace, the high heeled points with the dusting of diamantes were going to belong to Malice sooner than she could say the word divorce. The silver kidskin boots too and the kidskin boots were beautiful. So she might as well stop procrastinating and do everything in her power to ensure this went smoothly.

After all, it was not unknown for clients to bolt at this stage. She insisted on dealing with the female half of the partnership only and, as many of those were red-faced virgins, who had spent the greater part of an afternoon walking up and down the street trying to pluck up the courage to enter her salon, Malice risked them losing it all together.

Baiting the hook was never easy. Would she be wearing such awful undergarments and this drab brown dress with no ornamentation whatsoever bar a solitary black lace ruffle, if it was? Although Lady Grace exhibited not the least trace of nerves as she held to her parasol handle. Shame neither. Tall as a church candlestick, she’d swept in here as if the entire business was second nature to her. Or perhaps that was simply the impression she gave to mask her nerves?

“I am led to believe you have a little business here?”

Malice fixed what she hoped was her most serene smile to her lips. Once upon a time she might have thought words such as little and business an insult when the law was such an ass and she provided a vital service. Now sadly, she simply took the money.

“Yes. Indeed, I do. Please be assured the service is as discreet as the person who must have given you my name.”

“You don’t know how glad I am about that.” Lady Grace’s dimples deepened. She leaned across the desk in a rustle of lilac scented silk. “Because it’s like this… I have a man needing ruining.”

Relief slicked Malice’s palms. For a horrible moment there as the woman leaned forward, she’d wondered if Lady Grace had come to offer her services. But, no.

Lady Grace and her rake were very much in love. Rakes and ladies always were. Either that, or desperate. A hundred guineas? Shockingly cheap at twice the price. Was it any wonder as Lady Grace babbled on, Malice dipped the quill into the inkwell and drew a daisy on the blotter?

“But of course.”

“The problem is his wife.”

Obviously it went without saying that the problem was his wife–whoever she was.

Once Malice would have stopped, have thought badly of herself. That was before, before she hadn’t seen Cyril for dust. Before she had tried to help fallen women. Before she’d been reduced to touting embroidered tea cosies around Spitalfields Market at tuppence a time, earning enough to keep herself in candles for an entire afternoon. Now she doodled a few wives’ names to accompany the flower. Then she doodled a pair of shoes. High heeled ones.

Strictly Business dealt with such menaces as wives. This quiet room, with its drawn shades, the wardrobes stuffed with shoes, this sturdy oak desk, even the spindle chair she sat in, were testament to that fact. Her services weren’t just as discreet as the lavender scented candles burning in the Wedgewood candlesticks on the mantelshelf, they were necessary when the law was such an ass as to bind together couples who didn’t want to be bound, who had no further use for one another.

“A hundred guineas you say?” Lady Grace snapped her beaded reticule open. While she may have narrowed her sparkling green eyes, her excitement was so palpable, Malice could have reached out and touched it.

She gave a grunt of satisfaction. “A hundred guineas. In advance.”

“Well… it seems a lot, but…”

“Trouble yourself not, Lady Newell. Here at Strictly we believe in the power of true love. We believe in making such problems go away.”

Go away? For the wad of notes Lady Grace produced from the depths of her bulging reticule and set in a line along the oak surface of the desk Malice would have ruined Christ Almighty.

One hundred and twenty five pounds. Was she seeing this properly? Had she really thought only two pairs of shoes? The woman needing ruin must be a termagant. Nothing Malice had not done before. Nothing she could not do now.

Still, to seem too eager would not speak well of her business-like detachment. It would say that this was something she did for money and not for true love. For all she ran things like a well-oiled machine, she slackened her grip on the quill, pretending to consider it.

“I take it he’s tried asking?”

“Asking?” Lady Grace drew auburn brows together. “A hundred times a week. Twice on bended knee. He has tried everything and she refuses point blank to entertain him. You have no idea of the spite of this creature.”

“I can imagine.”

“For the last…oh let me think, three years… she’s been a wife in name only. I hardly need tell you that at twenty seven, the age I am now, time is not on my side. In another few years I shall be thirty. How perfectly awful will that be for an unmarried woman of my standing?”

Exactly what Malice wanted to hear. Enough to knock any little qualm of conscience on the head when she wanted these shoes so badly. When she herself had tried in her own miserable, inexperienced way to be more than that and been horribly refuted, why be troubled by the thought of a woman who wanted her rights while refusing to bow to her husband’s? So now they came to the sticky part of the transaction, the actual infidelity, although it never ceased to amaze her just how many were desperate to grasp that notion of future happiness, if not wreak revenge on a tiresome spouse. Would the women who sought her services do that, unless they were desperate? Would they walk through her door to back out? Annulment bastardised children and meant no-one ever spoke to the guilty parties again, but Canon law allowed for separation, if a husband was unfaithful. That was why she’d no compunction now about reaching for the leather folder that lay on the far side of her desk. About taking a sheet of paper from it either.

All that was needed was a name, then she would discreetly arrange the rest.

“Well, never fear. It is certainly my experience that most wives, when shown Strictly’s written testimonies, can’t agree to be divorced fast enough.”

Lady Grace’s peal of laughter echoed around the mulberry walls. “Thank goodness for that. For a moment there I thought you were going to tell me they still want to keep them.”

“Seldom. Once a discreet time has passed you will both be free to marry. He needn’t pay a penny towards his former wife’s keep either.”

“That is such a relief. I must say the service you provide is exceptional.”

“Oh, I won’t be providing it.”

Lord, no. What did Lady Grace think? That she slept with hundreds of men? She employed women to do that.

“Now we’ve discussed the nature of the transaction, I only need a few details. This man, the one you want us to ruin…what is his name?”

Lady Grace leaned closer as if the salon and all its contents had ears and it would damage them to hear. “Lord Hepworth. Lord Cyril Hepworth. Do you know of him at all? He is quite a dandy. But very dashing. And we are so in love.”

Know of him?

Malice’s gaze widened before she could stop it. For a second she felt as if rug, desk and chair had been yanked from beneath her and she sat in mid-air with nowhere to go except the floor.

Know of him?

Lady Grace had just asked her to ruin herself.

 

 

 

 

Back to the past…Time Travel in books and movies

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About Time, Back to the Future, Bill and Ted's excellent adventure, Lost, Lost In Austen, Outlander, Regency, Romance, Shehanne Moore, Soul Mate Publishing, The Time Machine, The Viking and The Courtesan, time travellers, Time-slip, Time-travel, Vikings

 

So little dudes, are we set to give this blog on time travelling.

Well done Tink, indeed there is.

No. Not quite. But….

When it comes to time travel….

There’s three types.

1 Time machine travel.

2 Time slip travel

3 Being a time traveller.

Time machine travel involves having some kind of machine that can transport us back to a particular time. It’s a device that needs little explanation so it’s a popular method when it comes to whizzing characters back and forth.

Now do we know of any famous examples of books or films?

Isn’t’ that good?

Not exactly. But yes. I think we could cite

Back To The Future, Doctor Who, Timecop, the hysterical

…love 12 Monkeys…

and HG Wells, classic The Time Machine as examples of time machine travel.

Indeed I think we can credit H G Well with popularizing the concept of time travelling. That simple title penned by him is now used to refer to such vehicle, thus paving the way for all the books, movies and TV programs that followed. He convinced such a thing could be made AND it could work too. In case it doesn’t, films like Timecop, Terminator—another love —

and 12 Monkeys are set in the future where we accept things will be very different given technological advances.

So well done dudes.

Now can we move to time slip travel?

What do we know about time slip travel?

Exactly. It is a paranormal phenomenon in which a person, or group of people, seem to either travel through time via unknown means.

So Tink there could well be out of here. But then she could come back.

Often in timeslip travel there’s some kind of portal the characters pass through. Whether they can find it again or not on the other side is up to the author!

Now do we know of any famous timeslip films, books TV series?

Well then?

Dudes????!!!!! You are doing me proud today. Well done. I knew you would.

Timeslip IS  a very good example of a film of that kind.

Then we have books like Outlander and Tv series like

which I adored.

I suppose

which I also adored could count as  a time slip, the interesting thing being that there wasn’t a portal as such, there was an island which could be moved..as islands can be…and it led to characters being flashed everywhere.

However, this medium is also popular for writers as it takes care of the business of transportation.

This brings us to the third type of time travel, that is where the character is a time traveller. We know Doctor Who is a time lord and traveller but he does have a machine. A real time traveller has no machine and there is no portal.

Absolutely, think

think having some kind of disorder, perhaps genetic, or perhaps a curse, whatever, but because of that disorder you have no control  of  the time flashes.

There’s not a lot of fiction, films, or series with actual time travellers. This one I liked because it keeps the notion small scale in that you can only go back within your own lifetime to your own life.

My new heroine is a time traveller and it was actually very difficult to get her past my  editor without some kind of portal because the suspension of belief required is the biggest out of the three…which I am only starting to realize now I start googling time travellers.

I know. But I did get her past after some rigorous editing. But I did have a lot of fun writing her discovering she is actually a time traveller and leaving her clueless in a strange land for a while about how she can control her ability. Oh, and find the one thing that will control it. Love. It’s all we need.

In 898 AD she wasn’t just from another land.

Wrecking a marriage is generally no problem for the divorce obtaining, Lady Malice Mallender. But she faces a dilemma when she’s asked to ruin her own. Just how businesslike should she remain when the marriage was never consummated and kissing her husband leads to Sin–a handsome Viking who wants her for a bed slave in name only?

She came from another time.

Viking raider Sin Gudrunsson wants one thing. To marry his childhood sweetheart. Only she’s left him before, so he needs to keep her on her toes, and a bed slave, in name only, seems just the thing. Until he meets Malice.

One kiss is all it takes to flash between two worlds

But when one kiss is no longer enough, which will it be? Regency London? Or Viking Norway? Will Malice learn what governs the flashes? Can Sin?

Where worlds collide can love melt the iciest heart?

Coming July 29th.

 

Tea for two and two for tea…… Meet two special ladies

Tags

Ancient World, Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Etopia Press, French, Historical romance, Moonstone Conspiracy, Percy Blakeney, regency Romance, Romance, Shehanne Moore, Soul Mate Publishing, Spies, The Viking and The Courtesan, Time-travel, Viking Romance, Vikings

 

 

http://antoniavanzandt.blogspot.com/2015/07/women-of-certain-character.html?spref=tw

https://sharonstruth.wordpress.com/?p=1275

 

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=107371819608880&ref=ts&fref=ts

 

http://www.noelleclark.blogspot.com.au/2015/07/reticules-women-of-dubious-backgrounds.html

Isn’t that a shame?  Seriously it is my pleasure today to continue my blog tour HERE and well as over on the author Elizabeth Ellen Carter’s blog. Let me tell you the ladies had great fun sending questions back and forth across the globe since Elizabeth lives in Australia and I live in Scotland.

We are not blogging today exactly no. The girls are. I think they might be the best of pen friends…..  And we are swapping book extracts and book blurbs and covers. http://eecarter.com/index.php/a-trans-temporal-tea-party-for-two/

So mine are over with Elizabeth. Let me hand you over to my new heroine Lady Malice, lover of shoes and wrecking marriages and hopefully a certain man….

is here and there with the lovely Abigail, heroine of Elizabeth Ellen Carter’s book,

They are having tea. So I think we should just let them talk away about shoes, men and lunatic asylums….

Lady Malice.

My dear, how do you like your tea? Even if I personally prefer coffee, Shehanne saw to it that I like tea, out of fine bone china cups with a dash of lemon. And also, before we go further, may I ask where you got your shoes?

Lady Abigail

Without sugar, thank you my dear. Sweet is not really my cup of tea, if you don’t mind me saying so. And these shoes? They’re lovely aren’t they. Since I’ve befriended Sir Percy Blakeney, his wife has introduced me to the most marvellous cobbler – she’s French you know. Not the cobbler, Sir Percy’s wife. And your boots they’re very… one of a kind?

Lady Malice.

Oh indeed. I buy all my shoes at Madame Faro’s. I mean I did and works of art they were too but now living several hundred years ago what can one expect but revolting Viking shoes?

Now, I really do think the past is something we should all draw various veils over but before we go further, may I ask, given some of your misfortunes with the Prince Regent, and indeed, Sir James Mitchell, if you are needing a marriage wrecked at all?

 

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Lady Abigail

First that Irish Radical poet Eamon Dauncey, then it was my friend Lady Jane and now you? I see my reputation proceeds me. I like men, they like me. I don’t wreck marriages, well, not deliberately, any way. What I need is a man who challenges me and who keep up with me, and I have to confess, there is something about that agent of Sir Percy’s, Daniel Ridgeway who has a habit of getting under my skin. And what about you, and that big Nordic god there? Sin… now that’s an interesting name…

Lady Malice.

Well, yes. Of course it is really short for Sinarr. My dear, I hope I said nothing wrong. May I assure you neither of are like our names….. Sort of not like our names. Ahem.

 Lady Abigail.

I’m thinking of moving to Italy – Naples specifically. Lady Hamilton is a wonderful hostess, I’m given to believe. I understand that you’ve been abroad too. Would that have been Italy as well or further afield?

Lady Malice

 

Not exactly. No. As I explained to my not so dear husband, that was Scandinavia. Norway in fact since they treat giraffes better there. I must say though, Italy is a divine place I would not have minded visiting. But alas one’s marriage wrecking skills are no long required so I doubt if I will ever visit there now. I am led to believe that you are very skilled in certain departments.

Lady Abigail

I have to confess to a certain skill in picking locks. Very handy for opening a rival’s diary or rescuing lovers from French mental asylums.

Lady Malice

Asylums? Do you know the swine I married had the temerity to put me in one?

Lady Abigail

While we’re in a confessing mood, do you boast an unusual talent – apart from the obvious, of course!

Lady Malice.

Well, I suppose that time travelling might come into that category. Of course it is a family trait. Did you know my grandmother was apparently a NYT best selling author? I didn’t until I kissed my husband. Tell me, this Daniel…what is he like? How did he end up in a French mental asylum?

Lady Abigail

Ah yes, the straitjacket – I’ve had experience of those – only from the outside…

Daniel… Daniel is an unusual man and most times I don’t know what he’s thinking. That annoys me greatly. In my experience, men are so easy to read, their needs are so simple – food and sex… but Daniel, he’s different. I wish I knew what he was thinking, but I don’t. I digress. The straitjacket. Daniel was in one of those because of me – well indirectly. We were searching for a confederate of Daniel’s when we were ambushed by Colonel Alexis Roux from the France’s new secret division of the Committee for Public Safety. He has a nasty habit of locking up suspects in a mental asylum for ‘private’ questioning. With some help, I had to rescue him.

Lady Malice

Goodness, re food and sex and men’s needs, here was me of the opinion that most men think with one thing and that thing isn’t their….well,… let me not digress either, except to say that noticeably you rescued him. Let me not tell you about the scrapes I get Sin out of because of his big…mouth.

Lady Abigail

I’m not sure I know what a New York Times is. I only read the London Times. But I’m rather intrigued by time travelling. How did you discover that you had this most remarkable gift?

Lady Malice

Hmmmm. Well, do you know I kissed my husband finally? Yes, after five years. It was as simple as that. And then there I was in Saxon England in the middle of a Viking raid on a convent. As to how I got back to Regency London, well, that involved a little more but I am a great one for keeping things clean. Now I know you will be thinking…excuse me? Indeed Shehanne’s editor thought the very same. But once it was explained re this being a family trait and secret, no more was to be said, except we are looking at a series, like you with the Moonstone. Now I see all this rescuing stuff. I trust you and Daniel ARE an item? I would worry if you were not. Also, pray tell us that your author is going to write more Moonstone books.

Lady Abigail 

Ah, that remains to be seen… my author Elizabeth is somewhat of a time traveller herself. At the moment she is in 3rd century AD Rome, has some plans to spend time with her handsome husband in Medieval England (perhaps she will see you and Sin there if you’re planning another jaunt).

I understand that Sir Percy has asked if Daniel and I would like to continue in his employ and we’ve not yet made up our minds, so you never know.

Lady Malice

Well, these authors are so selfish, aren’t they that us humble characters can but live in hope. More tea? Or would you, like me, prefer something stronger?

Excerpt FROM The Moonstone Conspiracy by Elizabeth Ellen Carter.

“I’m glad you remembered our appointment.”

Abigail recognised the droll voice and so did not even bother opening her eyes.

“It’s not yet midnight,” she replied and felt the couch shift as Daniel’s weight settled down into it.

“In our business, we take opportunities whenever they occur.”

Abigail opened her eyes and opened her fan to hide a yawn. He did not look fatigued. If one was to assign his expression right now, she would have described him as being studiously nonchalant.

“And what business are we in, Mr Ridgeway?”

“A very dangerous one.”

“I don’t recall signing up for a dangerous business,” she retorted, keeping her voice low to prevent anyone overhearing. “If my experience of your business over the past two years is any guide, stultifying boredom would be a better description.

“You can tell Aunt Druscilla that my obligation to her is complete. I’m going abroad at the end of this season.”

A slow feline grin spread across his face.

“Are you now?”

Fatigue fled and Abigail straightened in her seat, ready to rise to the challenge.

“Are you going to stop me?”

“I don’t particularly care what you do after this season,” he told her. “If you can’t give me what I want by the end of June, then you’re not half the woman Blakeney thinks you are.”

Excerpt 2

Daniel picked his moment carefully. He watched Sir Percy’s wife leave with another group soon after the announcement was made. And although he made no especial effort to hide, he nonetheless remained in the shadows. He pulled out a cigar and lit it on a nearby taper. As soon as he heard the footman call for Sir Percy’s carriage, he stepped forward into the carriage and waited for Blakeney to join him. “Send me to France, Percy,” he said as soon as the carriage jolted into motion. “I’m not going to do that,” Blakeney replied. “You can’t just leave Jonathan there!” “He signed on knowing the same risks as you.” “He has a wife and children!” “And you seem inordinately fond of them,” Sir Percy snapped back. “You saw the list you gave me tonight. A dozen good men and women dead because of the Jacobins. I’m not prepared to risk more. Not until we know what we’re up against.” “It could be too late!” “You took an oath when you joined the League, Ridgeway. One to command, all to obey. Bear that in mind.” Daniel leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees and exhaled long and sharp. He felt Percy slap him on the back. “Just wait a week until we know the lay of the land. I haven’t studied the documents you gave me and Parliament hasn’t even prepared a response to the National Committee’s declaration of war.” “A week is a long time, Percy,” Daniel warned. “So is eternity, dear chap. Don’t lose your head. As you well know, those Frenchies have a devilish way of parting you from it.”

Ellen Carter’s debut novel, Moonstone Obsession, was published in 2013 by Etopia Press. Earlier that year, the Regency adventure romance had been shortlisted in the Romance Writers of Australia Emerald Awards for Best Unpublished Manuscript. Set in England and France during the French Revolution, it was heralded as ‘edge-of-seat adventure and intrigue’ and ‘a rollercoaster of love, blackmail, ill-gotten gains, treason and trickery’ with Carter described as ‘a writer worth keeping an eye on’ with ‘a hint of classic suspense novelist Daphne du Maurier’.

Her second novel, Warrior’s Surrender, was published by Etopia the following year. Set in Northumbria in 1077, it sets the relationship between a displaced Saxon noblewoman and a Norman baron against the turbulent backdrop of England in the years following the Norman invasion of 1066. Reviewers found the novel ‘a fast moving and passionate read’ with ‘strong characters, an intriguing plot, and plenty of action… a sexy romance to be savoured’. Readers agreed, voting Warrior’s Surrender Favourite Historical Fiction in the 2015 Readers & Writers Down Under Readers Choice Awards.

Also in 2014, the short story Moonstone Promise, spinning off from Moonstone Obsession as part of Etopia’s Valentines Heat anthology, followed the fortunes of one of the supporting characters back home to 18th century Pittsburgh in a tale of ‘second chance romance’.

Warrior’s Surrender (now in print as well as eBook) was named Favourite Historical Fiction at the 2015 Readers & Writers Down Under Readers Choice Awards in March this year.

Carter moved up to 1802 for the light-hearted romantic short story Three Ships, part of the Christmas 2014 anthology A Season To Remember, and ventures briefly into contemporary romance for the first time with her Romance Writers of Australia annual Little Gems competition placegetter, The Tin Bear, publishing in August 2015.

And another Moonstone Obsession character, the sinful Lady Abigail Houghall, features in the full length novel Moonstone Conspiracy, coming from Etopia Press in 2015.

Carter is currently working on her fourth novel, set in ancient Rome and tentatively titled Dark Heart, which will bring together the elements for which she has become known in just a few years – in-depth historical detail woven through gripping adventure and captivating romance.

The author lives in Australia with her husband and two cats. A former newspaper journalist, she ran an award-winning PR agency for 12 years.

 

Web: http://eecarter.com

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