By Lisa Marie Wilkinson
Centuries before the first issue of GQ magazine hit the stands, and before Mr. Blackwell published his inaugural "Worst-Dressed List," another young man of taste staked his claim on history as the arbiter of male fashion during the Regency era in England.
George Bryan Brummel, (1778-1840), known as "Beau" Brummel, is believed to be responsible for creating the slave to fashion known as the "dandy," for introducing the modern man's suit, complete with tie, and for breeches giving way to full length trousers.
Although not of noble birth, Brummel was attracted to the lifestyles of the rich and famous, and as a young man, dressed accordingly. Following his studies at Oriel College he embarked upon a military career, which brought him to the attention of Prince George, the Prince of Wales. Brummel's more sober style of dress, featuring darker colors and cleaner lines, gradually overtook the current men's fashion of high heels and peacock-bright colors, largely as a result of Brummel's friendship with--and influence over--Prince George, who grew to view Brummel as the absolute authority on all things having to do with fashion and personal care. Many aspects of Brummel's personal hygiene habits caught on as popular fashion, and to this day we can credit him with introducing the concept of daily bathing and tooth-brushing.
The following pictures illustrate the evolution of style from fop to dandy:
Brummel resigned his military commission at the advent of the Napoleonic Wars in 1798 and soon came into a sizable inheritance upon the death of his father. He installed himself in the fashionable district of Mayfair (London) and began spending money and gambling extravagantly while in the company of friends whose wealth and means far exceeded his own. Eventually, lenders refused to extend Brummel the credit needed to support his lifestyle, and he fell out of favor with his wealthy, influential friends, including the Prince Regent.
Brummel was forced to flee to France in 1816 to avoid debtor's prison, but struggled with debt in France as well, eventually spending some time in a French prison as punishment for his indebtedness. He died an insane pauper in Caen, France in 1840.
This week we welcome back Blythe Gifford as she celebrates the release of IN The MASTER'S BED from the Harlequin Historical line. Those of you who visit Unusual Historicals regularly, you'll recognize her as the author of INNOCENCE UNVEILED, set in medieval Flanders, and THE HARLOT'S DAUGHTER, inspired by the illegitimate daughter of the king of England and his notorious mistress.
And, you'll remember that she is coming on board as a regular contributor to Unusual Historicals. So a double welcome Blythe!
Disguised as a man in a place where women are forbidden, Jane de Weston meets a man who, for the first time, makes her want to be a woman. But what will happen when she'd discovered and he finds her IN THE MASTER'S BED?
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You've come back to medieval England for this story, so what makes it unusual?
It takes place in a medieval university, Cambridge, (or Cantebregge, to be historically correct) and I don't know of many romances that have used that setting. (Readers, correct me if I err!) Susanna Gregory set a series of mysteries there, however. And Keena Kincaid's ART OF LOVE is set in the abbey schools that eventually became the University of Paris, but roughly two hundred years earlier than my story.
How did you decide on a university setting?
Those who read THE HARLOT'S DAUGHTER--though you don't need to have read it to enjoy this story--may recall that the harlot's other daughter, Jane, was already what we would call a "tomboy." She had studied a little Latin, so I always knew that in her story, she would run away, dressed as a lad, to make a life for herself that was very different than her beautiful sister's. A university was the ideal answer.
Why Cambridge instead of Oxford?
I had originally planned for Jane to go to Oxford, but I weave real people and events into my stories, and when I discovered that Parliament met in Cambridge the year my story was set, everything fell into place. The visit of Parliament and King Richard II play an important role in the story.
You've told us a little about your heroine. How about your hero?
Duncan is a master at Cambridge, so an accomplished man, but he's far from the stereotypical scholar. He values the body as well as the mind. And he plays the guitar, or the medieval equivalent, the gittern.
His home is near the Scottish border, in northeastern England, and in those days, that was considered a land of barbarians. So Duncan has a bit of a chip on his shoulder. He's had to prove himself to all comers at Cambridge. And he has.
Any "Easter Eggs" in the book, that is, hidden surprises for your readers?
Well, this is my fourth published work to take place in the 14th century, and somehow, Geoffrey Chaucer has snuck into almost every one. In his Canterbury Tales, "The Reeves Tale" is the story of two Cambridge clerks from "Soler Halle," which was thought to be stand for King's Hall, or King's College, or Garret Hostel, depending on which scholar you believe. I adopted that as the name for my hostel, calling it Solar Hostel.
What did you learn about the medieval university?
More than I could incorporate in the story! When I started researching medieval higher education, I was struck by how different it was from what we know today. By the end of the fourteenth century, when I set IN THE MASTER'S BED, the university was no longer only for monks, but it was still for a special few--all of them men. Women were forbidden in the classrooms and the living quarters, even to do laundry.
While I set my story at Cambridge University, what I learned largely applied to Oxford or any of the institutions on the continent.
So tell us what was so different about it?
Here are some things that seem strange to us today:
**A young man could go to University at age 14 or 15. If he completed the most advanced degree, theology, he could very well be there until age 30.
**Latin was the universal language of education, so an educated man could travel from Italy to Paris to England and still communicate with his fellows. And when I say language, I mean that they spoke Latin to each other.
**The list of topics studied was short. The seven "liberal arts" were the trivium (think trivia) of grammar, dialectic, and rhetoric, followed by the quadrivium of music, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy.
**Books were scarce. Often, the classes consisted of a master reading aloud from a required text.
That doesn't sound much like higher education today!
It seems like a foreign world, but the more I read, the more university life in the 14th century sounded suspiciously like that in the 21st:
**Those young men who attended were not the nobility, knights, nor peasants. They were the sons of the newly emerging middle (merchant) class, hoping that education would help them advance in a career, typically in administration at the king's court.
**Sometimes they had a career goal, but as time went on, they attended more for social polish and general cachet. As many as 80% attended without ever completing a degree.
**For those who went on to a higher degree, the top choices were law, medicine, and theology.
**An initiation hazing ritual had to be endured in order for a beanus (freshman) to be accepted into the university "tribe." The word later became "beanie" and applied to the freshman headgear required on college campuses as late as the 1960s.
**Students wrote home begging for money. There were even guidebooks with sample letters, telling them how to do it!
**Drinking was rampant. As Hastings Rashdall put it in The University of Europe in the Middle Ages, "no important events of life could be got through without drinking." To stand a round for one's fellows was the common reward, or punishment, for a variety of events, from obtaining one's degree to losing a bet.
**Colleges continually tried to prohibit loud singing and playing of music, dancing in the streets (men dancing--no women involved) and dramatics. Most of these, of course, were the result of the aforementioned drinking. The regularity of these pronouncements suggested their ineffectiveness.
As I learned all this, I became much more comfortable creating my story in the world of the medieval university. Human nature, particularly the human nature of young men living in groups, is still recognizable seven hundred years later. I really enjoyed throwing my hero and heroine together in this challenging world. And, of course, letting them find a happy ending!
Thanks for joining us today. You're offering a prize for a lucky commenter, right?
Yes, indeed. I'll be giving away a copy of IN The MASTER'S BED to someone who leaves a comment. And I invite readers to check out my website. I'm embarked on the "Blog Until You Drop" tour and I'd love to have readers join me along the way--and, of course, to sign up for my e-list.
And you'll be back here next month.
Right. I'll be posting on Scandals on September, telling more about that "notorious mistress" who is the mother of both Solay and Jane: Alice Perrers.
Captions: A gittern (public domain); Pembroke College, a 14th century gatehouse (public domain); and a photo of the River Cam and willow trees, similar to those Jane and Duncan sat under (Cruccone).
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You heard it here! Leave a comment or question and you'll be entered for a chance to win a copy of IN THE MASTER'S BED. Void where prohibited. I'll draw the winner next Sunday. Good luck, and thanks again to Blythe for stopping by!
Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved ®and T are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and/or its affiliated companies, used under license.
Margaret Mallory is hosting a great summer new contest where you could win six new Hachette Forever releases. Check out her website for details!
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The sequel to Jennifer Mueller's HISTORY LESSONS, called FOOTNOTES TO HISTORY, has been picked up at Phaze, close on the heels of the news that HISTORY LESSONS will be released in print. FOOTNOTES TO HISTORY is another collection of stories set through the ages in an 800-year-old Scottish castle.
Also, Jennifer's Regency-set A RUINED SEASON has been licensed for a large print edition. Congratulations!
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Lindsay Townsend's erotic historical romance, SILK AND STEEL, is available now through Siren-Bookstrand. Lindsay says, "After I wrote FLAVIA'S SECRET, I found myself fascinated by the story of a Roman girl who served as a toga girl in the public baths. Could there be a happy ever after for her and a man equally reviled and desired in Roman society--a gladiator? "Silk and Steel" is my story of two people redeemed by love."
It is Rome AD80. Corinna is a bath-girl, a slave compelled to please men. Decimus is a gladiator, a slave forced to kill men. When they come together in a union of silk and steel, they discover new passion, desire and the possibility of love.
SILK AND STEEL marks Lindsay's third novel set in the exotic, sensual world of ancient Rome. The other titles are ESCAPE TO LOVE and FLAVIA'S SECRET. To see all 3 of these exciting novels, please visit her Siren-Bookstrand author page.
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Join us tomorrow when contributor and Harlequin Historical author Blythe Gifford will be here to talk about IN THE MASTER'S BED, set in 14th century Cambridge!
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We'll also draw the winner of Christy Hubbard's gorgeous hardcover western, SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR. You still have time to throw your name in the hat, if you haven't done so.
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And stay with us through the coming weeks when we'll be featuring authors who write everything from erotica to inspirational--but all unusual historicals! Maureen Lang, Jean Adams, Leanna Renee Hieber and Michelle Beattie will be our guests. We hope you'll join us!
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Have a good weekend! If you have an announcement to make for next week, email Carrie. See you next week...
Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved ®and T are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and/or its affiliated companies, used under license.
This week on Excerpt Thursday we're featuring a snippet from new contributor and Harlequin Historicals author Blythe Gifford's September release, IN THE MASTER'S BED. It's available now! Set 14th century Cambridge University, this is a companion work to The HARLOT'S DAUGHTER, which reveals the story of Jane, the other daughter of the King of England and his notorious mistress.
Join us Sunday when Blythe will be stopping by to answer questions and give away a copy of this sexy new historical!
To live the life of independence she craves, Jane de Weston disguises herself as a young man. She doesn't foresee her attraction to Duncan, who stirs unknown but delightful sensations in her highly receptive, very feminine body.
When Duncan accidentally discovers her true identity he knows he should send her away--but he agrees to keep her secret! For Jane brings light into the dark corners of his heart, and Duncan fully intends to teach his willing pupil the exquisite pleasures of being a woman!
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About the excerpt: Cambridge, 1388. Duncan, master in Solar Hostel, met "John" on the road and has agreed to take on the young scholar, whose Latin still needs work...
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Jane woke, snug on a warm, dry, pallet, and sighed with delight.
Normally, the hostel would have been full of men, every room shared, but the term's start was still days away. She had a chance at privacy she would not see again to rewrap her breasts and relieve herself without fear.
What she really wanted was a bath, but that would be quick, cold, and risky.
She said her prayers for Solay and her mother and started downstairs. She would spend the day reading, she decided. The hostel had a few volumes that would afford her good Latin practice.
But at the bottom of the stairs, Duncan handed her a pile of tunics and hose. "Wash these."
She crossed her arms, not touching the garments in his hands. "Laundry's no work for a man." Nor for the child of a king.
"For a poor orphan, you've elevated expectations." Duncan dropped the clothes on the floor at her feet. "I told you you'd have to work for your lessons. Now do as I say."
"I want to talk to the principal," she said, lifting her chin. A man in power wouldn't make her do such menial tasks. "Who's responsible for this hostel?"
Duncan raised his eyebrows and looked at her aslant. "I am."
She swallowed, grateful that her blunder had made him chuckle instead of roar. From the first, this man had been nothing that she'd expected.
She tried not to think about how many ways she had insulted him already. "And you don't have laundry women?"
"We don't waste money sending out the wash. And it's the gaol for any women found within these walls, laundress or lady."
Gaol. She stooped to gather the pile, shuddering. She was at this man's mercy in a world beyond woman. She'd have no one to turn to, no one to confide in, and no protection if she were discovered.
"And wash your own clothes, while you're about it," he said, leaving her to grapple with the laundry. "You smell of the stables."
As she grudgingly heated the water to fill the washtub, she savored his words and allowed herself a secret smile. No women allowed, yet here she was. She had cracked their kingdom and they didn't even know.
And yet she was still doing women's work.
The thought lingered as she set up the tub in a sunny corner of the yard. She started to throw the garments into the water, but the coarse linen lingered in her hand, warm and alive with the smell of his body and his days on the road. She buried her nose in the fabric and breathed his scent until she sat behind him on the horse again, felt him nestled between her spread legs.
The memory made something within her run soft and wet.
She dropped the shirts in the hot water as quickly as she dropped the thought. What would Duncan think if he saw "John" with his nose buried in another man's shirt?
She plunged her arms into the wash water, the damp heat taking her back to the birthing room. What had happened to Solay? The babe must have been born days ago. Something weighed heavy in her chest, reminding her of what she had lost. She would never see her family again, never even know if they were safe.
She sent up a prayer for them as she swirled, scrubbed and pounded the clothes, then wrung out the rough linen, and stretched his shirts and braies on the grass beside hers.
The water, still warm, beckoned. Her skin ached to be clean. She had dipped her hands in the Cam River once or twice, but after she saw a dead sheep float by, she did not touch the water again.
She looked over her shoulder. She was in a secluded corner, shielded by the wall around the property and the vines which had grown up during the summer. She might not have such an opportunity again.
She skinned off her chausses and stepped into the tub, closing her eyes to savor the feel of the leftover water swirling into her hidden crevices, washing away the dust of the road and the stables.
Her tunic floated atop the water, hiding everything below. She snuggled lower with a satisfied sigh. Just a moment. She would take just a moment's ease.
Are ya still breathing?
A harsh question Duncan had asked. And a harsh man, when his eyes carried anger's thunder.
He had offered his help, so she expected that as soon as she asked, he would take "John" as a student. If she had known she'd be working as a servant and relegated to studying Latin again, she might never have risked being so near him and his all too perceptive gray eyes.
She told him how hard she had tried. She explained how unfair and difficult it all was. But all he could say was Are ya still breathing?
He was no more understanding than the rest of the masters he had met. Well, when she was a clerk to the King, he'd be sorry he was so rude. In fact, since the King was coming to Cambridge, she would introduce herself. The King might even--
"Little John! What are ya doing in that tub?"
Excerpt from IN The MASTER'S BED Copyright © 2009 by Wendy Blythe Gifford. Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. ® and T are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and/or its affiliated companies, used under license.
By Jean Adams
The second son of Amunhotep III and Tiye, Amunhotep IV, was probably not the first choice of the pharaoh, but would have fallen to his older brother, Thutmose, who died under unknown circumstances at an early age (Aldred, 1988).
Amunhotep IV's story begins at a time when the brave new dynasty of warrior pharaohs was beginning to become stagnant. The forging of a new empire, started by the pharaoh Ahmose at the beginning of the 18th dynasty, had raised the god Amun to a position of unprecedented power.
Nothing much is known of the early life of Prince Amunhotep IV. His father's reign rarely mentions him. Amunhotep IV's age upon becoming pharaoh is a matter of guesswork because his age is never specified in ancient texts. But Prince Amunhotep must have been of an age to be able to sire children, since he had at least one daughter by the first year of his reign. This could place him at as young as eleven or twelve.
Amunhotep IV's reign began with building projects including with a large sandstone quarry. He also took on the job of decorating the pylons his father had erected in the great Karnak temple complex. The decoration of these pylons gives us the first glimpse of things to come. We see the beginnings of the drastic changes the pharaoh would impose on official artwork starting to emerge (Redford, 1984).
In the third or fourth year of Amunhotep's reign, close to the time of his decision to change his name to Akhenaten, the king decided to have a royal jubilee, known as a Sed-festival. Such festivals were usually celebrated on the 30th year of a pharaoh's coronation, and thus a celebration so early in Akhenaten's reign would have been unusual. The Sed-festival's purpose was to reinforce his divine powers of kingship.
The festival marked a major turning point in Akhenaten's reign. Official art developed into the "early Amarna" style, which so exaggerated the unusual features of the king that it led some scholars to believe that Akhenaten may have suffered from some sort of medical condition.
In the fifth year of his reign, Akhenaten undertook another major project. In perhaps his most dramatic effort, he abandoned the old capital city of Thebes and set out to create a new one in central Egypt in a previously uninhabited spot. He called his new city Akhetaten, or "The Horizon of the Sun-disc."
The site of Akhetaten, now called Amarna, is a barren place surrounded by cliffs. The place resembles the symbolic horizon, and because it is located in the center of Egypt, may have been significant in Akhenaten's choice of this particular spot. Akhenaten laid out his plans for the city in great detail in a place he claimed to have been instructed by Aten to build.
A large cache of clay tablets, known as the Amarna letters, was found in the city. In these letters, we see the disintegration of the massive Egyptian empire taking place. Despite continual requests for gold, which the king apparently ignored, Akhenaten continued to build his city, and further suppressed the traditional array of Egyptian gods. He began a campaign to erase the name of Amun from as many texts and monuments as possible. He even changed aspects of the written language, in one example altering the spelling of the word "mut" (mother) so that it no longer made reference to the goddess of the same name (Redford, 1999).
In year twelve of his reign, Akhenaten held a large festival in which foreign dignitaries from all across the Egyptian empire visited and presented large quantities of tribute. The festival marked the beginning of the end of the reign of the "heretic king." In the years that followed, the situation at Akhetaten rapidly disintegrated. A spiral into tragedy started with the death of Akhenaten's second daughter, Meketaten (Aldred, 1988).
Akhenaten's mother, Tiye, disappeared at about the same time as Meketaten, probably both having fallen victim to the plague that had by now spread into Egypt (1984). Nefertiti faded quietly into the background (what happened to her is not known), and princess Meritaten was soon elevated to the position of Chief Queen and married to a mysterious figure called Smenkhkare, who co-ruled with Akhenaten for a few years (Redford, 1984; Aldred, 1988).
The last reference to Akhenaten appears on a wine jar docket dated "Year 17." He presumably died in Akhetaten of natural causes. Upon its rediscovery and exploration in the 19th century, Akhenaten's tomb lay empty save for some debris and the smashed remains of the king's red granite sarcophagus. 
The city of Akhetaten was abandoned and in left ruins. Akhenaten's experiment ended as abruptly as it had begun. After a brief occupation of the city by Pharaoh Tutankhaten, the successors of Akhenaten left the city and attempted to destroy all traces of this most mysterious and dramatic interlude Egypt's history.
The story is told against a background of danger and intrigue, and condensed for space purposes, in my latest novel, a time travel, ETERNAL HEARTS, due soon from Highland Press.
By Jeannie Lin
I've always been fascinated by warrior culture and the social rules that tie them together. There is something exciting and sexy about an elite group of fighting men. Modern day warriors within the armed forces carry on these traditions and their influence continues to resonate with us.
It makes me wonder, what elements do these groups have in common that pique our interest? And it's not all about big swords and cutting off heads.
The Warrior Code
"Come home with your shield or on it."
Every warrior culture adheres to its own code of conduct which values honor, loyalty and courage. In effect, every group has its own "Man Rules".
The Japanese samurai called it Bushido. Chinese swordsmen called it the code of the xia. The US Marine Corps sums up their code in their motto "Semper Fi". In medieval Europe, knights followed the code of chivalry.
Whatever the code may be called, the principle was the same. Death before dishonor. A warrior would die for this brothers. He understands the meaning of sacrifice and honor. In some unfathomable way, these men are bonded together and belong to something greater than themselves.
Few Against Many
We love cheering for the underdog, especially if the underdog is a magnificent fighting machine. Nowhere is this more clearly illustrated than how King Leonidas led a force of 300 Spartans (and 700 Thespians) held off a Persian army a million strong at Thermopylae.
What about a small, highly specialized unit, trained to get in, accomplish the mission impossible, and then get out? Modern day Navy SEALs and SWAT teams are well-known for their specialized training. I went to search for a historical equivalent--perhaps the specialized units of the Knights Templar that were dispatched to fight in the Holy Land, surrounding by hostile territory?
On the other side of the world, the Shinobi were Japanese warriors trained in covert tactics. The samurai were all about displays of honor, but the shinobi were all about stealth. They were the Black Ops of medieval Japan. Or perhaps such special tactics groups were so covert that there were plenty throughout time that we've never even heard about. Which leads into my last point.
The Mystery
"The first rule of Fight Club is, you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is, you DO NOT talk about Fight Club."
The brotherhood is a tight society only open to those who have proven themselves. This secrecy lends an air of the mystery around these groups. These are warriors with a hidden past, one that can never truly be revealed.
The poster child for this has to be the Knights Templar, famous for their secret codes, security measures and ancient rituals. What were these secret relics they hid so carefully and where are they now? A secret treasure trove, the bones of saints, the Holy Grail?
For other groups, there may not be an explicit vow of secrecy, but the existence of the group itself creates the mystery. There is a darkness to being a soldier and a warrior. These men are forced to make choices between life and death. They are protectors as well as destroyers.
Only these bands of warriors can truly understand what they've been through. It's a secret handshake, an unspoken bond of fighting men. The rest of us seek to uncover these secrets, even centuries later--forever on the outside, looking in.
By Jennifer Linforth
"For several days after my first book was published, I carried it about in my pocket and took surreptitious peeps at it to make sure the ink had not faded." ~ J. M. Barrie
When Unusual Historicals asked us to blog on men, my mind went to little boys and the one little boy who unlocked a world every adult should explore. There is no doubt that authors are imaginative creatures, and we must exercise that imagination daily. Every author should, on occasion, crack open a book by J.M. Barrie, a literary giant who turned the 19th century on its ear with his never-ending world of make-believe.
With his enduring and timeless Neverland....
What births imagination? For Barrie I believe it was death. Barrie said that his mother, distraught after the death of his brother just short of age 14, wandered around the house pleased that she would have one son who remained a boy forever. Barrie, in shock as well over losing his brother, would dress as his older sibling in order to comfort his mother. This death shaped Barrie in a way he would never forget--it birthed his imagination as he and his mother entertained each other with stories from her childhood in order to keep his brother's childhood alive.
Like many writers you find, he was not encouraged to write by his family. They wished to have him in the ministry. Following their desires, he enrolled in the University of Edinburgh. As he attempted to follow course, he ended up writing more and more. Short stories based on those he shared with his mother landed him acclaim for local papers, and established him as a respected writer. Eventually his attention turned toward works of the theater, reviewing and writing for the stage.
The ministry was forgotten.
There is a long list of works that found Barrie success in the early 1900’s. But in the United States it was his serial, The Little White Bird, which we should identify with, for in that work first appeared Peter Pan. It was not until 1904 that Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up appeared on stage. Come 1911 his novel, Peter Pan and Wendy, would endure as a timeless classic. His Neverland would become the iconic place where morality is undecided. Peter Pan has long been billed as a book for children, but is in reality more a story for grown ups that, far too often, lose site of the dreams within and forget what it is like to simply--believe.
My imagination is where I would retreat as a girl when I needed a spot to be alone. Now as a writer I offer that retreat to others. I still find far too many people in the world that don't believe in make-believe so I pose this question to the readers of Unusual Historicals. What births imagination? Where in life is your J.M. Barrie?
Remember Barrie's words: "Every time a child says 'I don't believe in fairies' there is a little fairy somewhere that falls down dead..."
I have already discussed this with my two year old and believe me, she claps to bring that fairy back to life.
How will you make imagination endure?
We have a winner for Amanda McIntyre's TORTURED guest blog. A free copy goes to:
RAELENA!
Contact Amanda to give her your address. The book must be claimed by next Sunday or another winner will be drawn. Please stop back later to let us know what you thought! Congratulations!
This week on Unusual Historicals we're welcoming Christy Hubbard, aka C. C. Harrison, as she celebrates the release of her hardcover western historical, SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR.
Women needed guts to live in the Old West and Sage Cane had an abundance. Finding herself penniless and in debt after the death of her father, then abandoned at the altar by a fortune-hunting scoundrel, she headed for Colorado gold country to take possession of the hotel she inherited from her Aunt Hannah "Honey" Wild. When she arrives, she is shocked to discover the hotel is really a bordello called Wild Mountain Honey Pleasure Palace. She announces her decision to close it down, but meets resistance from sexy Sheriff Bridger Norwood who is convinced it has to remain open in order to keep the peace in the rough and tumble mining town.
But Sage wasn't born to let adversity keep her down or men control her destiny.
It was a town of, by and for men with nothing for women. Not a slip of silk or froth of lace could be found anywhere outside the bordello. While the men mined for gold, drank in the saloons, gambled at the card tables, or visited Wild Mountain Honey, the wives were left behind to scrabble together a home in tents, huts and dugouts. That is, until Sage Cane secretly opened a charm school to teach them how to dress for adornment, whisper into a man's ear, and practice the fine art of seduction.
SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR vividly brings to life the hardships and dangers women faced in the rugged frontier towns that catered to men. Secrets are revealed and secrets are kept, but women did what they had to do to survive in this story of a town forced to rise to the standards of its women.
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4 STARS! "...marvelous tale...dynamic characters...captivating plot." - RT BOOKREVIEWS
"...a tale well told." - ROMANCE REVIEWS TODAY
"Ms. Hubbard unfolds this story in delicious layers filled with lots of information about life in the Old West...details are sure to please western history buffs...great descriptions and enjoyable characters will take readers on a wonderful trip back in time..." - LOVE WESTERN ROMANCES
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Your newest release is quite different from what you usually write. Tell us about it.
SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR just came out, and reader feedback has been terrific. Yes, it is different from the mysteries I usually write. It's an Old West historical romance about a reluctant madam who secretly opens a charm school and teaches the women in town how to keep their husband's home at night. Her goal is to close the bordello and go back home. Lots of complications arise including one very sexy sheriff. I love the Old West and the whole cowboy thing.
And I couldn't help myself. I put a little mystery in it.
Why did you decide to write in a different genre?
I grew up in Michigan but always loved reading about the Old West. The character and the story came to me over a period of years, and I actually abandoned the book three times because everyone said Old West wasn't selling. But cowboys are my weakness and westerns are my secret guilty pleasure. I started writing the book in Colorado, finished it in Arizona and it sold right away.
Why the pseudonym?
I decided to use a pseudonym because I didn't want my real name all over the Internet, and my reason for that would make a good plot for a suspense novel (which I will write some day.) I write mysteries under C. C. Harrison, and Old West historicals under Christy Hubbard. The down side of using a pseudonym is that friends and family don't know what to call you in public.
Can you describe your writing process?
Oh, I'm a plotter, compulsively so! I need to know where I'm going. I don't even leave my house without a map, and if I'm going over 100 miles, I need a Triptik!
A story idea will churn around in my head for quite a while, sometimes months, before I put anything on paper. I do lots of research, take lots of notes, set up files and a Work-in-Progress notebook. After that, I begin character development and plotting, write a chronological working outline, maybe some rough scenes, snatches of dialogue. I always know where I'm going before I start, but don't mind surprises and detours along the way.
On my last book, I tried something new. I wrote all the plot points and turning points on 5"x7" file cards, and then sorted and numbered them in order of occurrence in the story. That way, I always knew what was supposed to happen next. I don't believe there is any such thing as writer's block. Writer's block is really lack of planning.
And I must say, both the story and the plot of SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR were channeled to me. I must have lived a previous life in the Old West.
What part of writing do you like best?
I really enjoy starting--the plotting and character development, and I love final revision. I revise as I go, so when I'm done I pretty much have a final draft.
That said, there is no ONE way to write a book. There are many ways to write a book. That's one thing I wish I'd known earlier to save time and frustration in the writing business.
Do you think an author is born or made?
Good question and one I've spent a little time thinking about. I used to say that ANYBODY could write a book; it just took discipline and a computer. Now I don't believe that's true. It does take a certain amount of discipline and focus, but more important is imagination, and the ability to see things that don't exist and describe them with words on paper so that others can see them too. Not everyone can do that.
Are there any takeaway messages in your books?
As a famous movie director once said--If you want to send a message, use Western Union.
So, no particular message, but I like to write stories that show strong, self-confident women getting themselves out of dilemmas. I like female characters who, even though they may be flawed and make mistakes and bad decisions, don't squeal and run away at the first sign of trouble. They pursue their story goal inexorably despite obstacles and setbacks; they check out those creepy noises in the shadowy barn or up in the dark attic. Even though they're afraid, they do it anyway. To me, that's courage.
I was greatly influenced by Scarlett O'Hara in GONE WITH THE WIND. She was a relentless, take-charge survivor. Also, in all my stories, I always seem to have a character caring for a child that isn't theirs.
What else are you working on?
I've just finished a follow up to my first book THE CHARMSTONE called A SECRET WORTH KILLING FOR. This book is also set in Monument Valley on the Navajo Indian Reservation about a journalist searching for people in a fifty year old photograph. The mystery evolves from what happened to those people some of whom are still alive and some of whom have disappeared mysteriously. The National Archives was extremely helpful with the historical aspects of this story.
Currently, I'm working on a Golden Gate Bridge mystery series set in San Francisco. The first book takes place in an old monastery on Mt. Tamalpais where five nuns have been brutally murdered. Plenty of history and secrets from the past in this book, too. You can read more about my books here.
Thanks for having me!
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Thank you, Christy, for stopping by! Christy is being very generous in offering a free hardcover copy of SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR to one lucky Unusual Historicals read. Just leave a comment or question for your chance to win. I'll draw a winner at random next week. Good luck!
Elizabeth Lane has just signed contracts for two new Harlequin Historicals, the first a 1920 Western, the second set in 1850s California. Congratulations!
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Keta Diablo's LAND OF FALLING STARS, a Civil War erotica novel, was awarded a Top Pick by Night Owl Romance, calling it "a beautiful and haunting love story full of passion, deception, danger and the epic War Between the States...."
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Join us tomorrow when Christy Hubbard, a new pseudonym for historical mystery writer C. C. Harrison, will join us to talk about SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR, set in an Old West Colorado mining town.
Women needed guts to live in the Old West and Sage Cane had an abundance. Finding herself penniless and in debt after the death of her father, then abandoned at the altar by a fortune-hunting scoundrel, she headed for Colorado gold country to take possession of the hotel she inherited from her Aunt Hannah "Honey" Wild. When she arrives, she is shocked to discover the hotel is really a bordello called Wild Mountain Honey Pleasure Palace. She announces her decision to close it down, but meets resistance from sexy Sheriff Bridger Norwood who is convinced it has to remain open in order to keep the peace in the rough and tumble mining town.
But Sage wasn't born to let adversity keep her down or men control her destiny.
It was a town of, by and for men with nothing for women. Not a slip of silk or froth of lace could be found anywhere outside the bordello. While the men mined for gold, drank in the saloons, gambled at the card tables, or visited Wild Mountain Honey, the wives were left behind to scrabble together a home in tents, huts and dugouts. That is, until Sage Cane secretly opened a charm school to teach them how to dress for adornment, whisper into a man's ear, and practice the fine art of seduction.
SAGE CANE'S HOUSE OF GRACE AND FAVOR vividly brings to life the hardships and dangers women faced in the rugged frontier towns that catered to men. Secrets are revealed and secrets are kept, but women did what they had to do to survive in this story of a town forced to rise to the standards of its women.
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We'll also draw the winner of Amanda McIntyre's TORTURED. You still have time to throw your name in the hat, if you haven't done so.
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And stay with us through the coming weeks when we'll be featuring authors who write everything from erotica to inspirational--but all unusual historicals! Blythe Gifford, and Maureen Lang, Jean Adams, and Leanna Renee Hieber will be our guests. We hope you'll join us!
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Have a good weekend! If you have an announcement to make for next week, email Carrie. See you next week...
By Anita Davison
George and Francis Villiers by Van Dyck
The son of the murdered 1st Duke, the 2nd Duke of Buckingham is often judged as ostentatious, licentious, and unscrupulous, but even his critics agreed he was also good-humoured, good-natured, generous, an unsurpassed mimic, and the leader of fashion. His good looks and wit made him irresistible to his contemporaries, in spite of his lack of morality, and even his crimes. John Reresby called him "the first gentleman of person and wit I think I ever saw," and Dean Lockier, after alluding to his unrivalled skill in riding, dancing and fencing, added, "When he came into the presence-chamber it was impossible for you not to follow him with your eye as he went along, he moved so gracefully." According to Gilbert Burnet, "He gave himself up, to a monstrous course of studied immoralities."
When their father was murdered by John Felton, George was only seven and his brother Francis, two years younger. Under the care of the Earl of Northumberland, their early childhood was spent in Florence and Rome. At fourteen, George attended Trinity College, Cambridge, where he obtained the degree of Master of Arts. When the Second Civil War broke out, the Villiers boys joined Henry Rich, 1st Earl of Holland in Surrey. Francis was killed near Kingston-upon-Thames, at the age of twenty. Buckingham escaped to the Netherlands and joined Charles II in exile, while his lands were confiscated and given to Thomas, Lord Fairfax.
Buckingham was given the Order of the Garter (KG) and admitted to the Privy Council by Charles II. A sworn enemy of Edward Hyde, Buckingham supported the alliance with the Scottish Presbyterians and accompanied Charles to Scotland in June 1650. Allying himself with the Marquess of Argyll, he fought at the Battle of Worcester in September 1651, and escaped the field to arrive in Rotterdam and re-joined Charles II in exile.
A fervent supporter of religious toleration, Buckingham's negotiations with Oliver Cromwell's government, and his readiness to sacrifice the interests of the church, separated him from the rest of Charles's advisers. This estrangement was compounded by his audacious courtship of the king's widowed sister Mary, Princess of Orange, and by a money dispute with Charles.
Tired of exile and determined to regain his estates, Buckingham argued with Charles II and returned to England and went to court Lord Fairfax. Uneasy with certain Protestant excesses, Fairfax hadn't supported Charles I's execution, and the retired general quickly became a friend of the handsome, and charming Buckingham. Whether by accident or design, knowing Buckingham it was probably the latter, the general's daughter, Mary, fell in love with him although the banns of her intended marriage with the Earl of Chesterfield had been twice called in church. They were married at the Fairfax estate in Yorkshire and as a wedding gift, Lord Fairfax signed the two Villiers properties back to his son-in-law.
When news of the wedding reached London, the Lord Protector was furious. Suspicious that Buckingham might be secretly working with royalists to undermine the republic, Cromwell saw the marriage as a potentially treasonous alliance with the power to turn the army against him. Buckingham was arrested and held at York House, from where he escaped. Re-arrested, he was imprisoned in the Tower of London, and again his properties confiscated.
Buckingham lived for months with a traitor's death of being hanged, drawn and quartered hanging over him, but in 1658, Cromwell fell ill. Through the window of his cell in September, Buckingham heard the cannons boom to announce the dictator's death. He wrote later: "If Oliver had lived for three more days, I would surely have been put to death."
Freed in February 1659 on Fairfax's security of £20,000, having promised not to assist the enemies of the government, Buckingham joined Fairfax in his march against General John Lambert in January 1660, and claimed to have persuaded Fairfax to the cause of the Restoration.
In May 1660, King Charles II was restored to his throne. Theaters and inns opened again. Boys were allowed to play football on Sunday, and Charles legalized horse racing in the first week of his reign. Meeting him at Dover, the king received Buckingham coldly for his desertion, but the Villiers charm soon did its work, and he was appointed a Gentleman of the Bedchamber, made him a member of the Privy Council a year later, and George carried the Sovereign's Orb at the coronation on 23 April 1661. He accompanied Princess Henrietta Anne to Paris to marry the Duke of Orleans, but made such shameless advances to her, that he was recalled. Admitted to the Privy Council, Buckingham’s confiscated estates, amounting to £26,000 a year, were restored to him, and he was said to be the king's richest subject.
An advocate of religious tolerance, George was horrified by the trend of Catholics being barred from public office. As a Freemason, he had progressive views on most issues, and contempt for the established church. But he was sympathetic to the Quakers, who were being imprisoned, tortured and hung for their refusal to conform to Anglican demands. William Penn was a fellow Yorkshireman and friend of George's.
For about 15 years, Charles II was attended by the 'Merrie Gang,' a posse of young nobles and gentry, many of whom were clearly gay or bisexual. Naturally their leader was Buckingham, who according to Rousseau, "The king himself was accused of engaging in overt 'sodomitical liaisons' with the Duke of Buckingham."
The permissive atmosphere of Restoration high society meant that George made no secret of his liking for both men and women. From childhood he would have been aware of his father's relationship with King James I. Sodomy laws were still on the books in England, but Restoration liberality had reduced punishment from death to a day in the stocks.
Being an amateur playwright, George often dallied with actors--and rumours spread that he was intimate with young Edward Kynaston, famed for playing female roles. Playwright George Etheredge. Known as "Gentle George" to his friends, ('gentle' was a euphemism for gay in the Restoration court), Etheredge was fair-haired and slender, beautifully dressed, and wrote some of the era’s most sparkling comedy. Buckingham mentioned Etheredge in a poem, saying that Apollo had his eye on gentle George--an allusion to the Greek god's fondness for handsome mortal men.
Yet another "gentle" favorite was poet Abraham Cowley, with whom Buckingham was a student at Cambridge. It was said that Cowley never spoke a word of love to a woman in his life. Many conventional biographies of Buckingham refrain from mentioning that he was bisexual, but historian Howard Love says flatly in his English Clandestine Satire, 1660-1702, that Buckingham "was a bisexual rake who was prosecuted for sodomy."
George's closest cohort was another civil war hero, John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, who was known to write witty gay erotica and was clearly bisexual. According to Wilmot, the ‘Merrie Gang’ rose at ten, breakfasted at two, and were drunk by five. Wilmot once admitted to being drunk for five years. Their drink of choice was imported wine spiked with opium--which was making its debut in England thanks to trade with China. On occasion, George had dinner at 2 AM, washed down with a French drink he had introduced to English high society, called champagne. While drunk, Villiers and Wilmot loved to disguise themselves, and pull off mad escapades and practical jokes.
With most of his pre-war property retrieved, and a vast income, George lived well. In 1666, he built a vast mansion at Cliveden on the Thames where he installed his mistress, the Countess of Shrewsbury. This affair with Anna Maria Brudenell, led to a duel with her husband at Barn Elms in January 1668 that turned into a massacre with two deaths and several injuries. It was rumoured, but unsubstantiated, that the Countess of Shrewsbury held her lover's horse, in the dress of a page during the duel. The Earl of Shrewsbury was fatally wounded, and subsequently, Buckingham provoked an outrage when he installed the "widow of his own creation" in his own and his wife's house.
Pepys’ reference to this 'duell,' says, ....it was all 'about my Lady Shrewsbury, at that time, and for a great while before, a mistress to the Duke of Buckingham; and so her husband challenged him, and they met; and my Lord Shrewsbury was run through the body, from the right breast through the shoulder; and Sir John Talbot all along up one of his arms; and Jenkins killed upon the place, and the rest all in a little measure wounded.'
George was not the only sexual nonconformist in his family. Mary Villiers, his sister, was an influential writer and early feminist, who kept the court buzzing with gossip about her swordsmanship, duelling, fondness for men’s clothes, and the erotic lesbian tinges in her poetry.
When the 'Merrie Gang' weren't getting high, drinking and womanising, they raced horses. Charles' grandfather, the gay King James I, had first developed a court and racecourse at Newmarket. Charles II built a huge stable there so racers could board horses there--"the oldest training establishment in the world,"* In 1665 the king established the Newmarket Town Plate, an annual race over a 4-mile course, in several heats, the first race run under written rules. Riders had to be a gentleman. Each horse to carry 12 stone (168 pounds). No whipping each other by the riders. No cruelty to the horses. The first horse to win three heats was the victor. Wagering on all races reached preposterous levels, so King Charles II, alarmed by bankruptcies of titled bettors, issued a royal decree limiting the size of bets. On Sunday evenings, Buckingham would often entertain the court with what he called a 'sermon'--a bawdy stand-up comedy monologue that had their audience screaming with laughter.
Well into the 1670s, the 'Merrie Gang' continued, until Buckingham was devastated by the death of Abraham Cowley in 1667, and by 1679, the Earl of Rochester was fading horribly from the effects of alcoholism and venereal disease, and died in 1680.
Years of abuse left Buckingham with rheumatism, liver problems, and his sex life became a national issue. The Earl of Clarendon took the position that George was a godless monster. Parliament debate was noisy and at one point, Buckingham fought with another peer and they yanked off each other's wigs. Both were thrown in the Tower to cool off.
In 1667 Clarendon got George disbarred from the Privy Council, but Buckingham fought back with icy ruthlessness, and engineered the Earl’s downfall. Arrested and dismissed from all his offices, Buckingham evaded capture but he gave himself up and was imprisoned in the Tower. Restored to favour and his appointments three months later, Buckingham took an active part in the prosecution of Clarendon. When Clarendon fell, he became the chief minister, even though he had previously held no high office except that of Master of the Horse, bought from the Duke of Albermarle in 1668.
Buckingham was accused of: the instigation of the idea of a divorce from Queen Catherine of Braganza for her childlessness, plotting against James, Duke of York, the Duke of Ormonde, and Sir William Coventry--whose fall Buckingham procured by provoking him to send him a challenge to a duel.
Through it all, King Charles stayed supportive, and re-appointed George to high office in 1670. But in 1674, Buckingham was openly attacked in Parliament over his relationship with Lady Shrewsbury. In the Lords, the trustees of the young Earl of Shrewsbury complained that Buckingham publicly continued his affair with the Countess, and that a son of theirs had been buried in Westminster Abbey with the title of Earl of Coventry; Buckingham and the countess were required to apologize and give security for £10,000 not to cohabit together again.
By 1678, England veered into panic over Titus Oates and the "Popish plot." Half the country was sure that Catholic enemies were planning the King’s murder and the downfall of government. A series of ludicrous state trials resulted in some public executions of innocent men caught up in the hysteria. Buckingham's enemies tried to implicate him in the conspiracy, charging that he had engaged in sodomy with a young conspirator named Philip Le Mar. Buckingham was put through a state trial by Parliament, spent more time in the Tower, and defended himself with savage wit. Eventually charges were dropped. On May 21, 1680, George was freed from the Tower for the last time.
In 1681, at age 53, Villiers left public life in disgust. He paid off some of his debts by selling Cliveden and other properties. But he held onto Helmsley, in Yorkshire, making it his home for the first time. Income from tenant farmers provided some cash flow, and his old retainers stayed loyal, so under the shadow of the half-ruined castle, he and Mary lived a recluse life in the antiquated manor house.
The once-athletic, handsome cavalier was now a hefty country squire with a few wooden teeth, chugging ale with other squires at the Cock and Bottle Inn. He founded the Bilsdale Hunt, put together the first pack of hounds, and went fox-hunting with his new cronies. The odd mistress still came and went from Helmsley, along with a boyfriend or two, including George Etheredge. Finally his long-suffering wife Mary moved out.
In February 1685, King Charles died, and in April 1687, while the aging Duke was out hunting, he fell ill or had a riding accident-accounts vary. Carried to the home of a tenant in Kirkbymoorside, six miles from Helmsley, he lingered for several days until on April 16, George Villiers died. He was 59.
Buckingham was buried on 7 June 1687 in Henry VII's chapel in Westminster Abbey, with greater splendour than the late king. After his death, all his property, which had been deeply mortgaged, was sold, and did not realize sufficient to pay his debts. George and Mary had no children, so his titles became extinct. The family line continued through the 1st Duke's siblings. The Villiers' most famous descendent is Diana Spencer, Princess of Wales, whose ancestry goes back to the Duke of Grafton, Charles II's illegitimate son with George's cousin Barbara Villiers.
* Newmarket historian John Sutton.
By Isabel Roman
It's a universal cry when women are frustrated. It's also the universal cry when writers are annoyed. Men are tricky little devils; their thought processes can be very foreign to some of us women. There is a reason for the outstanding success of books like Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus or He Said, She Said. Men think fundamentally different from women.
We could talk for hours about the major and minor differences in the way men and women approach different problems or aspects of life, but today's blog is going to center on the difference between the Alpha Male and the sadistic jerk as pertains to romantic fiction.
I once attended a writer's workshop were the speaker proposed that men in fiction are actually one dimensional. That they are simple, visual reactors of what is around them. And while I agree to a point--men do react visually--I disagree that men do not have the same depth in personality women do. They do, they just express it differently. As writers, our job is to find out how our characters will express their depths. Some do so quietly through small actions while others do so violently through intense conflict.
The typical Alpha Male character is considered to be the strong leader of the group. His reactions can range from the quiet but intense stare to the over the top violent outburst. What all Alpha Males have in common is their steadfast determination to solve the problem at hand. They don't wait for someone else to find a solution, are generally proactive, however, a good one sees the value in the opinions/actions/contributions of those around him.
In relation to his romantic life, an Alpha Male determines what he wants and goes after it--oftentimes full force. However, he is not going to force relations, but he'll be persistent. He'll also soften for the woman in his life, differ to her wishes when possible. Not a pushover, he is willing to hear the other opinions. When you are dealing with the Alpha Male and the Alpha Female you develop this mutually respectful, but sometimes vicious, tug of war between them. Two strong personalities vying for dominance. It can be a very exciting interchange to write.
A strong Alpha Male is not a sadistic jerk. The sadistic jerk will cause pain for his own amusement--and lose your reader's respect at the same time. A sadistic jerk will stalk your heroine, frighten her, keep her in an uneasy state. Sometimes there is a fine line between what an Alpha will do and a jerk. For instance, an Alpha will never arbitrarily kill someone, even if they try to kill him. He'll do so out of self defense, but always after the killer attacks.
None of that makes a good Alpha Male. The classic anti-hero is often meant to be an Alpha Male but unintentionally twisted into a sadistic jerk. We need to be careful of this trap: an anti-hero may skirt the law, be forceful with his minions but he'll never take advantage of his woman. He also will not commit violence for violence's sake. When an Alpha Male commits violence there is always a good reason for it.
Let's take a favorite movie of mine, Captain Blood. (I just read they're remaking...as a space movie...*shudder* *gasp* the horror!) Peter Blood is the classic alpha hero: he's strong, determined, gathers loyal men to him, fights the bad guys, and wins the day. In the book, there's a scene where Captain Levasseur captures a (I think, going from memory here!) Dutch ship on which his 'love' is traveling. When the captain of that ship tries to protect the woman, Levasseur pushes him away, stabbing him with his sword.
Why? Because he was between he and the woman Levasseur wanted. This opened the woman's eyes and she rejected Levasseur. Faced with this interference, Levasseur murdered a man he needn't. The sadistic jerk.
Peter Blood, faced with interference from his Arabella's uncle, Colonel Bishop, leaves him alive. Bishop wanted Peter dead for a variety of reasons, the latest because he was a pirate. But Peter left him alive on more than one occasion. Why? Because he knew killing Bishop, even in a battle, would devastate Arabella.
Peter Blood is the Alpha Male. Levasseur is the sadistic jerk. Plain and simple.
By Lorelie Brown
First off, let me just say I'm stoked to be here at Unusual Historicals, for more than one reason. My ability to be included here means my debut, currently titled JAZZ BABY, is going to be published (Samhain; Spring 2010). This is the culmination of a life-long dream--and the first step on a long journey, I hope. Secondly, Unusual Historicals is such an awesome place to be a part of, considering I get hot for history. (What, too much?) So me, my irreverence, and my over-use of parenthesis will hopefully be around for a good long while.
Oh, bad boys. We romance readers have such a love for them, no? From the Black Knight who gets the girl anyway, to the rake who strides through ballrooms in his gleaming boots and seduces women left and right (but never touches a virgin!), the bad boy gets his sexy on. Yum.
And who's more bad than gangsters? The modern day notion of gangsters started in the 1920s, when US Prohibition laws made alcohol forbidden. (Little known fact: it was not illegal to drink booze, just to buy or make it. So if a pint of rum just fell from the heavens at your feet, feel free to get blotto.) Gangsters had boatloads of money, most of their business was done in clubs and bars, and really, that whole Prohibition idea was kinda crazy. So breaking laws about it was looking out for the common man who just wanted to get his drink on.
Makes sense that gangsters would be great fodder for bad boys. Heck, Hollywood caught on a long time ago.
How about Al Capone:
Hmm. I don't know about you, but he's not really doing it for me in the looks department. He had a bulletproof car, though, that was later used as President Franklin Roosevelt's personal limo after it was seized--that's pretty cool.
Unfortunately, there's that whole St. Valentine’s Day Massacre thing. An attempt to get back at Bugs Moran in the increasingly violent Chicago mob wars, Capone had seven men lined up against a wall and assassinated. Each victim ended up with somewhere between 15 to 20 bullets in them. Gruesome stuff. And he died of syphilis. That sucks. I'm not thinking Capone's redeemable.
Well, OK, how about George "Bugs" Moran, who ran the North-Side gang in Chicago and was Capone's mortal enemy?
Now he's a pretty decent looking guy. He still doesn't do it for me, but I can get the appeal. He supposedly dug monogamy, so yay, no syphilis! One problem--that nickname. He got the name "Bugs" from being bat-shit crazy. Plus he was super-murderous.
Moving right along, now, we've got John Dillinger:
The guy certainly had charisma, that's for damned sure. And there's that whole Robin Hood-like aura that hangs around him. He stole primarily from banks during the 1930s Depression, and the people could get behind that, all things considered. (By 1933, a third of the banks had failed, and there was no FDIC at the time to back deposits. So imagine if you woke up one morning and found out your entire savings/retirement account was simply gone.)
By many sources, Dillinger only ever killed one man--Officer Patrick O'Malley--and some people even swear up and down that Dillinger didn't even kill him. But...well...he still hung out with killers. The whole Robin Hood image isn't quite right, either. He stole from the rich alright, but the only poor who got a cut of the loot was Dillinger himself. And one account has him leading a gang-rape at thirteen. Gah.
So, alrightie then. Maybe the real bad boys aren't quite where it's at. The heart of gold? Usually stolen. I think I'll stick to my fiction.
Just to rinse the pallet, I'll leave y'all with a picture of the most recent spiffed-up Dillinger incarnation. Now there's a bad boy I wouldn't mind spending some time with:
By Lisa Marie Wilkinson
George Bryan Brummel, (1778-1840), known as "Beau" Brummel, is believed to be responsible for creating the slave to fashion known as the "dandy," for introducing the modern man's suit, complete with tie, and for breeches giving way to full length trousers.
Brummel resigned his military commission at the advent of the Napoleonic Wars in 1798 and soon came into a sizable inheritance upon the death of his father. He installed himself in the fashionable district of Mayfair (London) and began spending money and gambling extravagantly while in the company of friends whose wealth and means far exceeded his own. Eventually, lenders refused to extend Brummel the credit needed to support his lifestyle, and he fell out of favor with his wealthy, influential friends, including the Prince Regent.
