Great Loves in History: Shah Jahan & Mumtaz Mahal

By Lisa J. Yarde

In 1632, the Mughal Emperor of India, Shah Jahan commanded the construction of a fabulous, white marble mausoleum, inlaid with gemstones. The Taj Mahal is considered a tribute built in loving memory of Shah Jahan's favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal.

Mumtaz Mahal

Mumtaz Mahal was born Arjuman Banu Begum, a member of the Persian nobility. In 1607, while at a marketplace, the 14-year old's beauty caught the attention of a vain, young Mughal Prince Khurram, who was a grandson of Emperor Akbar the Great. Khurram declared his intentions to marry the girl, but they would have to wait for an auspicious date from the court's astrologers. There was a year's difference in age between Mumtaz and her eventual husband. After their wedding took place in 1612, the young prince bestowed the title Mumtaz Mahal, "Ornament of the Palace" on his wife and they shared 19 years of marriage, despite the intrigues of his stepmother Nur Jahan (incidentally, a paternal aunt of Mumtaz Mahal).  Mughal succession did not always favor the eldest son. For a time, Prince Khurram was his father Jahangir's favorite and earned the title Shah Jahan for his prowess in battle against his father's enemies.

Shah Jahan

Although Khurram married two other women and dutifully sired children with him, he showed great devotion to Mumtaz Mahal. She remained at his side as the court traveled through India, on his military campaigns and hunting expeditions. Mumtaz Mahal might have also been forewarned of her husband's intention to murder his younger brother and rival claimant, Khusrau, and rebel against Jahangir in 1622. The rebellion ended in defeat for Khurram four years later. He had to send two of his sons, including the eight year-old child of he and Mumtaz, Aurangzeb, as hostages to their grandfather's court. Mumtaz Mahal would not see her sons for another two years. When Jahangir died and Khurram ascended to the throne of the Mughals in 1627 as Emperor Shah Jahan, Mumtaz Mahal gained further prominence as a trusted adviser to her husband . She gave birth to fourteen children, but only half of them survived to adulthood.

Taj Mahal

In June 1631, Mumtaz Mahal accompanied Shah Jahan on a military campaign to the Deccan Penninsula, despite being heavily pregnant. She died at the city of Burhanput after giving birth to their daughter. Official accounts describe Shah Jahan's grief-stricken state upon the loss of Mumtaz Mahal. Heartbreak "crumbled his mountain-like endurance." At first Shah Jahan interred his beloved wife's body at the site of her death for six months before he had her escorted to Agra six months later. He retreated from public appearances and when he finally emerged, the hair on his head had turned from black to completely white. Within several months, the construction on the Taj Mahal began. Another 22 years passed before it ended. Centuries later, the Taj Mahal still stands, its four minarets piercing the sky at Agra. It houses the remains of Shah Jahan and his beloved Mumtaz Mahal.

Lisa J. Yarde writes fiction inspired by real-life events. She is the author of On Falcon's Wings, a medieval novel chronicling the star-crossed romance between Norman and Saxon lovers. She has also written the medieval novels Sultana and Sultana’s Legacy, both set during a turbulent period of thirteenth century Spain.

            

Guest Blog: Colin Falconer

This week, we're welcoming renowned historical fiction author Colin Falconer. His best-selling novel, HAREM, is set in the Ottoman Empire during the reign of Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, who is left spellbound by his newest slave girl, Hurrem.  Colin is here to talk about this fascinating book and give away a copy. Want to win it? Please leave your comment for Colin. Here's the blurb: 


He had everything a man might dream of; wealth, power and the choice of hundreds of the most beautiful women in his Empire. Why then did he forsake his harem for the love of just one woman, and marry her in defiance of the centuries-old code of the Osmanlis? 


This is the astonishing story of Suleiman, the one they called the Magnificent, and the woman he loved. 


Suleiman controlled an empire of thirty million people, encompassing twenty different languages. As a man, he was an enigma; he conquered all who stood against him with one of the world's first full time professional armies - yet he liked to write poetry; he ravaged half of Europe but he rebuilt Istanbul in marble; he had teams of torturers and assassins ready to unleash at a whim - yet history remembers him as a great lawmaker.

''Harem' literally means 'Forbidden': Forbidden to men. Once the Sultan was the only man - the only complete man - who could pass through its iron-studded doors. But what was that world really like?

For a woman living in the Harem the only way out was to somehow find her way into the Sultan's bed and bear him a son. But the young Sultan was often away at war and when he did return he neglected his harem for just one favourite wife. But one young Russian concubine inside his seraglio was not content to allow fate decide the course of her life. She was clever and she was ruthless. And she had a plan.

Into this world are drawn two unforgettable characters; a beautiful young Italian noblewoman, captured by corsairs and brought to the Harem as a concubine; and the eunuch who loved her once, long ago, in Venice.

Loved her? He never stopped loving her.

From medieval Venice to the slave markets of Algiers, from the mountains of Persia to the forbidden seraglio of the Ottoman's greatest sultan, this is a tale of passion and intrigue in a world where nothing is really as it seems. 

Q&A with Colin Falconer

How did the story of Harem come about?
Back in another incarnation, when I was working as a magazine freelancer, I got a commission from Playboy magazine to write about harems. You know, the racy stuff. But as I did my research I discovered that harems weren't anything like the male fantasy most Playboy readers would have liked. So I held back a lot of the research when I finally came to write the piece.

In particular, I discovered the story of Hurrem Haseki, the slave girl that Suleiman the Magnificent married and eventually made his queen. He even resigned his entire harem for her! There were so many intriguing gaps in the story. Was it a love story - or was it something else?

How much research was involved?

My initial research came from my local library. The head librarian would order in the books from all over the country and I would go in and collect them. But she never mentioned this to her staff. The girl behind the desk would go pale when I walked in and announced that I was there to pick up 'Unusual Sexual Practices in Ottoman Turkey' in three volumes or 'The Handy Guide to Castration.'

After I had the groundwork down, I spent a month in Turkey. My girls were only little then and I didn't want to be away from them that long so the whole family came! The best part for me was seeing the tombs of Suleiman and Hurrem side by side in the garden of the Suleimaniye mosque. Considering their history, it's very poignant and quite ironic. It felt like visiting the grave of someone I knew. The guide tried to tell me their history and it was completely wrong. Well either that or every book in the British Library was way off the mark. I'm betting it was him.

How did you come up with the story?
Historians know what happened but they can't rationally explain it. Why did Suleiman retire his harem? Why did he then later murder his son and his best friend? Scholars can't say because it would be pure conjecture: what happened in the harem stayed in the harem. No records were kept. So it all came down to reading between the lines - and that's what novelists are born to do.

People do not act rationally, no matter how important or royal or powerful they are, they're still human beings. The English royal family are a classic case. I had my own theories of why Suleiman and Hurrem did what they did, and I tested them out against what we know. It fitted perfectly, without changing a single historical fact. I don't know if I'm right - no one will ever know what really happened behind those walls - but if I am then she was one of the most extraordinary women in European history. Ruthless, intelligent, charming and brilliant. Love her or hate her, she was the most powerful woman you never heard of.

What was the most surprising thing to you?

I read some accounts written by actual eunuchs from the last century. The sad thing is, they never lost their psychological desire for women. They may have the lost the physical imperative but they said they still longed. I can't imagine how hellish that must have been. I also read accounts of former concubines who likened it to imprisonment - that was less surprising. The harem, as depicted in gauzy Victorian art and imagined in male fantasy, may seem like heaven - but it was actually hell.

Why did you republish?

I was so unhappy about the way the book was traditionally published here in the US in the first place. It was a massive best seller in Europe, translated into over a dozen languages - the only place it didn't do well was in the US. I just didn't think I was that bad a writer. I felt the publishers let me down badly. It was a boring cover, they changed the title and they gave it no marketing support. Hey, you must have heard this story a hundred times! So I re-jacketed and re-edited. I guess I'm out to prove a point. I think it's a great book. I think it deserved more. Much, much more. 

Thank you, Colin, and best of luck with HAREM. Visitors, please leave your comment to win a copy of this story.

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Excerpt Thursday: Harem by Colin Falconer

This week on Excerpt Thursday, we're welcoming renowned historical fiction author Colin Falconer. His best-selling novel, HAREM, is set in the Ottoman Empire during the reign of Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, who is left spellbound by his newest slave girl, Hurrem.  Join us Sunday, when Colin will be here to talk about this fascinating book and give away a copy. Here's the blurb:


He had everything a man might dream of; wealth, power and the choice of hundreds of the most beautiful women in his Empire. Why then did he forsake his harem for the love of just one woman, and marry her in defiance of the centuries-old code of the Osmanlis? 

This is the astonishing story of Suleiman, the one they called the Magnificent, and the woman he loved. 

Suleiman controlled an empire of thirty million people, encompassing twenty different languages. As a man, he was an enigma; he conquered all who stood against him with one of the world's first full time professional armies - yet he liked to write poetry; he ravaged half of Europe but he rebuilt Istanbul in marble; he had teams of torturers and assassins ready to unleash at a whim - yet history remembers him as a great lawmaker.

''Harem' literally means 'Forbidden': Forbidden to men. Once the Sultan was the only man - the only complete man - who could pass through its iron-studded doors. But what was that world really like?

For a woman living in the Harem the only way out was to somehow find her way into the Sultan's bed and bear him a son. But the young Sultan was often away at war and when he did return he neglected his harem for just one favourite wife. But one young Russian concubine inside his seraglio was not content to allow fate decide the course of her life. She was clever and she was ruthless. And she had a plan.

Into this world are drawn two unforgettable characters; a beautiful young Italian noblewoman, captured by corsairs and brought to the Harem as a concubine; and the eunuch who loved her once, long ago, in Venice.

Loved her? He never stopped loving her.

From medieval Venice to the slave markets of Algiers, from the mountains of Persia to the forbidden seraglio of the Ottoman's greatest sultan, this is a tale of passion and intrigue in a world where nothing is really as it seems. 

An Excerpt from HAREM

The courtyard was paved with almond-shaped cobblestones and dominated by an ornate marble fountain. Windows looked down from all sides. Hürrem felt as if the whole Harem was watching her.

This was the courtyard of the Sultan Valide! These were her apartments.

The guards hurried her to the centre of the court and there released her. 'The Kapi Aga says you are to wait. And be sure to sing.'

'Sing, why? What is happening?'

But the men had done as they had been ordered and they wheeled away without another word, the sickle-bladed yataghans at their waists rattling in their scabbards. Hürrem stared after them.

She waited there for an eternity but no one came. Water murmured in the marble fountain. Perhaps the Kapi Aga had arranged an interview with Hafise Sultan? she thought. But then why had they insisted she bring her needlework? What else was it they had said? 'The Kapi Aga says you are to wait. And be sure to sing.'

The Kapi Aga wanted her to break the sacred silence of the Harem?

She grew tired of waiting, found a cool spot in the shade of the fountain and sat down, crossing her legs beneath her, Osmanli style. She spread the handkerchief on her lap, took out her needle and went back to her embroidery. She chose to hum a love song her mother had taught her, about a boy whose horse had fallen in the snow, trapping him; as he died by inches on the winter steppe he told the wind how much he loved a certain girl and how he had never had the courage to tell her. He asked the wind to carry his words across the plain so that she would remember him. It was a stupid, sentimental song, Hürrem thought, but she had always liked the tune and after a while the words came back to her as well.

She soon forgot her initial anxiety and did not even notice the tall, slender figure in the white turban until his shadow fell across her lap.

'The first law of the Harem is silence.'

She looked up, startled. The man was standing with the sun behind his back and she had to shield her eyes against the glare. He did not speak like a eunuch and he was not black like a Nubian. There was only one other man who might walk freely here.

'Perhaps we should cut out the tongues of all the nightingales then. And the bees. We should do something about them also. All this incessant buzzing. Don't they know the rules?' There. It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

For a moment he just stared at her. Hürrem remembered that her first action before speaking should have been to lower her forehead to the ground and make her obeisance. She put down her embroidery and went to her knees. She touched her forehead to the hot stones, a futile gesture, it was already too late. She should beg his forgiveness for breaking the silence. Well, there was no point now, he had spoken and she had answered him.

She was suddenly aware that the old Kislar Aghasi - the Chief Black Eunuch - was standing behind Suleiman, his face beaded with perspiration, fanning himself with a silk handkerchief. He looked as if he were about to faint.

'Do you know who I am?' Suleiman asked her.

'You are the Lord of Life.'

'What were you singing?'

'It was a song I learned from my mother, my Lord. A love song. About a stupid boy who let his horse fall on top of him.'

'He was singing to the horse?'

She giggled, then stifled it. 'I think not. I dare to say the horse had lost much of its charm by then.'

She heard him laugh. 'What is your name?'

'They call me Hürrem, my lord.'

'Hürrem? Laughing one. Who gave you that name?'

'The men who brought me here. They could not pronounce my name. Though I suspect they were not intelligent enough to pronounce their own names either.'

He laughed again. 'Where are you from, Hürrem?'

She squinted up at him. This was the moment for which she had gambled so much and all she could think about was the pain in her knees. How long would he make her squat here on these cobblestones? 'I am a Tatar,' she said. 'A Krim.'

'Do all you Tatars have hair of such amazing colour?'

'No, my Lord. I was the only one in my clan so burdened.'

'Burdened? I think not. It is quite beautiful.' He stroked her hair and held a lock of it in his fingers, as if he were examining a piece of material in the bazaar for quality and strength. 'It is like burnished gold. Is it not, Ali?'

The Kislar Aghasi murmured his agreement. Liar! Hürrem thought. You have only spoken to me once, and on that occasion you called me an undernourished carrot.

'Stand up, Hürrem.'

At last! She did as she was told. She knew she should lower her eyes, as she had been trained to do, but curiosity got the better of her. So this was the Lord of Life, the Possessor of Men's Necks, the Lord of the Seven Worlds! He was handsome, she supposed, but not especially so. There was the shadow of a beard on his face, which lent a certain majesty to his beaked nose. He had grey eyes.

He examined her head to toe, as the spahis had done the day her father had traded her. He did not seem especially displeased with what he saw yet when he had done he gave a long sigh. 'What is that you are embroidering?' he asked her.

'A handkerchief, my lord.'

'Let me see it.' She handed it to him. 'A fine piece of work. You have great skill. May I have it?'

'I have not finished …'

'Have it ready for me tonight,' he said and placed it carefully over her left shoulder. The Kislar Aghasi's eyes widened in shock. Placing a handkerchief on a girl's shoulder signified that she was now gözde, and that the Sultan wished to sleep with her. No girl had been so favoured since he had assumed the throne.

Suleiman walked away without another word. The Kislar Aghasi looked as if he would burst; then he remembered himself and hurried after him.

Hürrem stood there, frozen to the spot, long after they were gone. Her body trembled with triumph and excitement.

Gözde!I am in the eye! Now I just have to stay there.

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The Entertainers: Women in Restoration Theater

Anna C. Bowling

Come with me on a trip to London, 1660. With the return of Charles II to the throne, England has undergone amazing changes, and one of the most notable is the reopening of theaters per the king’s edict in August of this year. The late Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, clamped down on frivolous forms of entertainment, so it’s been a while since actors could perform in the open. Certainly, some small companies of traveling entertainers risked the stiff penalties to perform secretly in private homes before small audiences, but a real stage with professional actors? That hasn’t been possible for quite some time.

Now it’s back. Charles II, dubbed the merry monarch, loves a good time and his fondness for theater has rejuvenated the art form in England. The air buzzes with excitement as we enter the theater. Pretty girls mill about with baskets of oranges, selling the exotic fruit and possibly other wares in some cases.

Some older patrons reminisce about the theaters of their youth. Oh, those were glorious days, when richly costumed players trod the boards and fantastical sets showed off the true genius of theatrical art. Another patron grumbles; they’ve been dragged here by others and aren’t at all sure that reopening the theaters isn’t flinging open wide the doors of depravity. Others express curiosity. Will this English audience be able to understand a play with all the European influences the king is reputed to have a taste for after his time abroad?

With the show about to begin, we take our seats on the long wooden benches. Two young men take the stage, in the rich dress of the cavaliers. Long, curling hair spills over the shoulders of both their coats, their heads topped with wide-brimmed hats decorated with brightly colored plumes. Arm in arm, the amble across the boards, looking furtively about as though searching for pursuers. A hush falls over the crowd as the magic of the story takes hold. The slighter of the two sweeps off his hat, expounds on the warmth of the noonday sun and then doffs his…what…no, her coat. She stretches and speaks in her natural voice and there is no doubt that this actor is in fact a woman.

A woman? On the stage? One of the older audience members complains that in his day, female parts were played by pretty boys and that’s the way decent theater should be. The grumbler points this out as certainty that this is a plot to crumble the moral fire of England; no decent woman would take to the stage. This is nothing more, they insist, than a platform for a strumpet to parade her wares. Others shush the objectors, more interested in the story than any damages to the country’s moral future. Some of the male audience members do seem especially fixated on the assets of the woman on stage, and it is possible one or more of them may seek her company after the show closes.

We watch the performance to its conclusion, and leave discussing when we might see such a spectacle again. What we’ve seen is nothing like we have experienced before, and we speculate over what may come next. We return for more performances as we can over the years, paying for the cheapest seats we can get. We see more women perform and laugh over the popularity of casting young women in breeches roles. It took this long to get women on the stage, and now they are expected to play men? Ah, but that does show their legs off to excellent advantage, and if it worked well enough for Nell Gwynne to catch the eye of the king himself, who are we to argue? Only ten years after the opening of the theaters, the first female playwright, Aphra Behn, stages her play, The Forced Marriage, ushering in yet another new day for the world of entertainment. On with the show.

Writing historical romances allows Anna C. Bowling to travel through time on a daily basis and make the voices in her head pay rent. Her current release, ORPHANS IN THE STORM, is available from Awe-Struck E-books.

An Ordinary Day In: The Life of King Louis XIV

Lila DiPasqua

It isn't easy being the most powerful monarch in all of Europe. Ruling the largest European realm in the seventeenth century--with a population of over 20 million--kept a man busy.

But never too busy to womanize. (ahem)

Or dance.

King Louis XIV did a lot in his lifetime. He opened the first school of ballet. He purchased what's known today as the Hope Diamond. (Now in the Smithsonian. Uncut it was originally the size of a fist!) And let us not forget that he was the one who commissioned the construction of the magnificent Palace of Versailles.

Let's face it; Louis was one flashy, colorful character--who loved abundance and did everything on a grand scale.

So what was a typical day like in the life of this mighty monarch?

King Louis's day would begin at 8 am when the official Valet of the Bedchambers would awaken him. First to enter his room thereafter were his doctors and those closest to the King (his son/heir, the King's brother and other male family members). And, of course, the Royal Wigmaker. You see, Louis started balding at an early age, and ordered every man of quality to wear a periwig at court. These were costly. In today's dollars, one periwig would set a man back about $5000.00. Oh, and those itchy wigs needed upkeep, too!

When you're the most powerful King in all of Christendom, something as mundane as getting out of bed, washing, shaving and getting dressed was a public event. Everything Louis did was a ceremony. Once the King had been rubbed down with spirits by his doctors, and had his slippers, wig, and dressing gown on, the next part of the ceremony began.

Within fifteen minutes, a crowd crammed into the Royal Chambers. This group of nobles was made up of courtiers favored by the King. Before the adoring mass, Louis had a light breakfast. Either a cup of broth or his favorite, bread dipped in wine. It was a great honor to be permitted to watch him don his undergarments, breeches, stockings etc. It was an even greater honor to be the noble selected to hand the King his shirt--only after he was presented to the King by the Valet of the Bedchambers.

There were so many crazy rules of etiquette during the morning ceremony, I don't know how they kept it straight. For example, when it came to helping the King with his coat (justacorps), the Valet of the Bedchambers could help only with the right sleeve. Whereas the Master of the Wardrobe could only assist with the left. Oh, it gets better! Only the Master of the Wardrobe was permitted to place the King's cravat on him, but he wasn't allowed to tie it. That was the job of the Royal Cravatier. The King's hat, gloves, and cane had to be handed to him in a certain order and by certain people. A rather involved ordeal, wouldn't you say?

Now, with the morning ceremony completed and the King fully dressed, His Majesty left his private apartments, followed by the crowd from his bedchambers, and made his way down the Hall of Mirrors. This grand sparkling hallway was hardly empty. It was lined with spectators, more courtiers who waited anxiously for a glimpse of their King.

Louis spent part of the day immersed in affairs of state with his many ministers and four secretaries. And part of the day outdoors. He believed it was unhealthy to remain indoors and spent as much time as he could walking about his massive gardens. Or hunting. Since hunting with the King was by invitation only, if you wanted an invite, you did your best to stand out among the other hundreds of courtiers who followed him around the gardens trying to gain favor.

The King attended mass daily--with the entire court in attendance. He had his meals at exactly the same time each day. His dinner (what we call lunch) was at 1:00pm. Courtiers would quickly down their food at noon, so that they could be present to watch the King have his midday meal--a favorite form of entertainment!

Three times a week, the King opened his state rooms to the court. From 7:00pm to 10:00pm, courtiers were free to wander and mingle with other great nobles, as well as the King. There were concerts, billiards, card games and iced liqueurs to enjoy. The environment was less formal and the King jested and chatted with those in attendance.

Supper was usually at 11:30pm. Louis had a hardy appetite. It was discovered after his death, during his autopsy that his stomach was quite a lot larger than the average man. All his life, people marveled at the amount of food he consumed at one sitting.

Once supper was finished, it was time for the King to retire to his bedchamber for bed. Yes, you guessed it--another ceremony! Yet again a crowd filled his bedchamber. One lucky courtier was selected to--are you ready for this?--hold the candlestick as the King disrobed and handed each article of clothing to the appropriate person. This was a huge deal! Then the King would get into bed and the ceremony would be over. Only to start again the next day.

Odd practices aside, France had the most sophisticated, sparkling court around in the 17th century. It was the very time and place when the genre of fairy tales was born! I couldn't help but set my "Fiery Tales" series in this elegant and opulent time period. With all its richness and decadent behavior, it made for great fairy tale retelling! My latest release, THE PRINCESS IN HIS BED, is inspired by "The Emperor's New Clothes," "The Ugly Duckling" and "The Princess and the Pea." It has three notorious rakes, passionate trysts and three strong, smart heroines who make them lose their hearts.

The book video has just been completed. I hope you enjoy it!

Guest Author: Gillian Bagwell

This week on Unusual Historicals we're welcoming Berkley author Gillian Bagwell as she celebrates the release of her historical fiction debut, THE DARLING STRUMPET, set in Restoration Era England. Based on the life of Nell Gwynn, THE DARLING STRUMPET tells the story of her rise from the streets to become one of London's most beloved actresses and the life-long mistress of King Charles II. Check out below how you can win a copy!

From London's slums to its bawdy playhouses, THE DARLING STRUMPET transports the reader to the tumultuous world of seventeenth-century England, charting the meteoric rise of the dazzling Nell Gwynn, who captivates the heart of King Charles II-and becomes one of the century's most famous courtesans.

Witty and beautiful, Nell was born into poverty but is drawn into the enthralling world of the theater, where her saucy humor and sensuous charm earn her a place in the King's Company. As one of the first actresses in the newly-opened playhouses, she catapults to fame, winning the affection of legions of fans--and the heart of the most powerful man in all of England, the King himself. Surrendering herself to Charles, Nell will be forced to maneuver the ruthless and shifting allegiances of the royal court--and discover a world of decadence and passion she never imagined possible.

***

"Richly engaging portrait of the life and times of one of history's most appealing characters!" ~ Diana Gabaldon, author of the best-selling Outlander series

"Hard to resist this sort of seduction--a Nell Gwynn who pleasures the crowds upon the stages of London and the noblest men of England in their bedrooms. A vivid portrait of an age that makes our own seem prudish, told with verve, humour, pathos...and not a little eroticism." ~ C.C. Humphreys, actor and author of Jack Absolute

***

Are any of the houses where Nell lived or the theatres where she performed still there?

Sadly, none of her haunts in London are still standing, but the layout of the streets hasn't changed significantly in much of central London, and it is possible to figure out more or less where some of the old places were. No one knows exactly where she was born, but it was likely in what was then the maze of slums around Covent Garden, and her early life didn't take her far from there.

Lewkenor's Lane, the site of Madam Ross's brothel, is now Macklin Street (above), just off the north end of Drury Lane. The Cat & Fiddle and Cock & Pie taverns and inns were near the south end of Drury Lane. The Maypole in the Strand stood just about in front of the church of St. Mary Le Strand (left), which is still there, and Maypole Alley, which led to Drury Lane, would have passed through approximately the location of Bush House, which used to house the BBC and still houses some parts of it, I believe. Of course the present Theatre Royal in Drury Lane is in the same spot as the theatre Nell acted in but it's about the third building on the site.

Before Nell began acting, the King's Company and Duke's Company were both performing in converted tennis courts just off Lincoln's Inn Fields. The location of the Duke's Company theatre is at the back of what is now the Royal College of Surgeons, in a space that, at least as of the summer of 2008, was let to the London School of Economics. In fact, oddly, the LSE was occupying several places that were the sites of old theatres. Nell had a house in Newman's Row, in the northeast corner of Lincoln's Inn Fields. The passage is still there, and the square not too much changed from her days, though the house is gone.

There is a blue plaque historical market on the house at 79 Pall Mall, which is where Nell lived from about 1671 to the end of her life, but that, too, is a different building. The Banqueting House is all that remains of Whitehall Palace, but Nell certainly knew that building. By comparing old maps with contemporary maps and the layout of the ground, I've come to the conclusion that Charles II's bedroom, the site of so much intrigue, was probably right about at the location of the statue that stands behind the Ministry of Defense, just off the river.

There's a building in Windsor that is allegedly where Nell stayed sometimes, and, very incongruously, it now houses a Chinese restaurant. Burford House, which Charles gave her, is still on the grounds of Windsor Castle, but has been much altered from her time.

How many of the characters in your book are real and how many are imaginary?

Most of the major characters and quite a lot of the minor ones are real people that Nell would have known. All the actors that she watches, learns from, and plays with are based on real actors, and the stage roles they play in the book are mostly the roles those actors actually performed. Orange Moll, who had the concession to sell oranges and sweetmeats in the theatre, is real, as is the rope dancer Jacob Hall, who really did become the lover of the Duchess of Castlemaine for a while. The old sailor Dicky One-Shank, who works as a stagehand, is fictitious, but there were sailors who worked in theatres--both jobs required some of the same knowledge of rigging, hauling canvas, and so on--and Nell surely knew some of them.

How did you recreate Nell's performances, or even know what plays she acted in?

Thanks to Samuel Pepys's diary, we have some glimpses into events at the playhouse, and Nell's performances. She didn't like serious roles, and she wasn't very good in them. More than once Pepys complains about her ruining a show with her performance. But he couldn't get enough of her when she was in a comic role, and the playwrights took advantage of that and wrote great parts for her, including many that had her playing opposite her lover Charles Hart. They became the Myrna Loy and William Powell of the 1660s, playing witty bantering couples who spar and jab and have a lot of humor and sexual chemistry.

Your second book, THE SEPTEMBER QUEEN, coming next November, also involves Charles II, but at a much earlier period of his life. How did that come about?

In the course of researching THE DARLING STRUMPET, I learned about Charles's escape after the disastrous Battle of Worcester in 1651, and how a girl named Jane Lane risked her life to help him by disguising him as her servant and riding behind him on horseback so he could get to the coast where he could find a boat that would take him to safety in France. It was an enormously important and formative period for Charles, and he told the story to anyone who would listen for the rest of his life.

I couldn't get into much depth about these events without slowing the story down, and with regret, I just had Charles say, "That's a story for another time." When my agent asked what I was going to write next, and I was casting around for ideas, I remembered Jane Lane. My agent loved the idea too, and we were both astonished and delighted to discover that apparently no one had ever written a novel about the really unbelievable story of her journey with Charles.

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Thanks so much for stopping by today, Gillian, and best of luck with your debut! Readers, if you'd like the chance to win a copy of THE DARLING STRUMPET, answer this: What is it about the Cinderella/commoner-to-royalty idea that remains so timeless in history, legend and romance? Is it a trope you enjoy? I'll draw a winner at random next Sunday. Void where prohibited. Best of luck!

Excerpt Thursday: Gillian Bagwell

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're welcoming Berkley author Gillian Bagwell as she celebrates the release of her historical fiction debut, THE DARLING STRUMPET, set in Restoration Era England. Based on the life of Nell Gwynn, THE DARLING STRUMPET tells the story of her rise from the streets to become one of London's most beloved actresses and the life-long mistress of King Charles II. Join us Sunday when Gillian will be here to answer questions and give away a copy!

From London's slums to its bawdy playhouses, THE DARLING STRUMPET transports the reader to the tumultuous world of seventeenth-century England, charting the meteoric rise of the dazzling Nell Gwynn, who captivates the heart of King Charles II-and becomes one of the century's most famous courtesans.

Witty and beautiful, Nell was born into poverty but is drawn into the enthralling world of the theater, where her saucy humor and sensuous charm earn her a place in the King's Company. As one of the first actresses in the newly-opened playhouses, she catapults to fame, winning the affection of legions of fans--and the heart of the most powerful man in all of England, the King himself. Surrendering herself to Charles, Nell will be forced to maneuver the ruthless and shifting allegiances of the royal court--and discover a world of decadence and passion she never imagined possible.

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Nell's first impression of the King's privy chamber was that it was like a chessboard filled with clocks. The floor was in squares of black and white marble, and a row of timepieces stood along the shining black mantle atop the enormous fireplace. Others dotted tables and shelves, and a tall case clock emitted a steady tock. The vast bed was surmounted by a canopy with great eagles above it, its curtains supported by cherubs that appeared to be in flight toward the elaborately painted ceiling high above. Paintings in heavy gold frames were mounted on the walls. The life-sized portraits of ladies and gentlemen in stiff finery seemed to Nell to look down on her as she passed.

It took Nell a moment to spot the King. He was seated at a writing desk, his back to the door, evidently engrossed in whatever he was studying. Three spaniels lay curled near his feet, and they lifted their heads to regard the visitors.

"Your Majesty," Buckingham began, but as he spoke, the tall clock began to tell the hour with a series of deep bongs. Another clock sounded, and then, as if they had been caught napping and were guiltily snapping to their work, the others chimed in one by one on their own notes and rhythms, creating a cacophonous jangle.

"George." The King stood and came smiling toward them, embraced Buckingham, and turned to Nell as the last of the bells faded to silence, pulling her up from her curtsy.

"Mistress Nelly. May I call you Nelly? I always think of you like that, you know, and calling you anything else would seem amiss."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Nell dimpled at him, pleased beyond measure that he "always" thought of her in any way at all.

"I've just been looking at Wren's plans for some of the new churches – come see." The King led them toward the desk, where a large drawing was unfurled.

"St. Paul's," he said. "Is it not splendid?"

"Magnificent," Buckingham agreed. "But what about some wine?"

Charles laughed. "Of course. Forgive me, Nelly, for being such a poor host. Faith, you grow more beautiful each time I see you."

"If it be so, Your Majesty, then I hope that you shall see me frequently, so that both of us may benefit," Nell laughed.

"And witty as well," Charles said over Nell's head to Buckingham. "Pretty, witty Nell."

Save for the servant who brought in the food and poured the wine, and the dogs, the three of them were alone. Charles and Buckingham were in jovial spirits, and chaffed with each other like the brothers they almost were.

They lingered over wine and sweetmeats, but as the clocks set up their clamor on the hour of ten, Buckingham declared that it was time for him to be gone.

"And you, Nelly?" asked Charles. "Must you run away? Or will you stay to keep me company a little while yet?"

"Gladly, sir," Nell said, "If it will give you pleasure."

Buckingham's footsteps faded, and Nell felt momentarily awkward – what should she do or say? But Charles poured more wine, silently raised his glass to her with a smile, and she felt at ease.

He pulled a morsel of meat from the pullet carcass on the table and held it out to one of his spaniels, who wolfed it down. Nell laughed as the dog licked its chops and cocked its head expectantly, clearly hoping for more. Charles gently pulled one of the dog's ears and scratched it under the chin.

"I had one of these beasts with me in France," he said. "Sometimes I thought he was my only true friend in the world."

"I have never had a dog, Your Majesty, but have often wondered if I had a true friend. He must have been a comfort to you."

Charles leaned forward and brushed a tendril of hair from Nell's cheek, letting his hand trail down her face, her throat, her breast. Nell felt a twinge in her belly – the involuntary contraction of arousal. She had fully expected the king to bed her. She had not expected to desire him as intensely as she suddenly found she did.

Guest Author: Michelle Beattie

This week on Unusual Historicals we're welcoming back Michelle Beattie as she celebrates the release of A PIRATE'S POSSESSION, available now from Berkley Sensation. Michelle has become known for adventurous romances set on the high seas of the 17th century--the Age of Sail. Here's the scoop:

Love and gold have one thing in common: they can only be buried for so long...

Abandoned by her father and married to a deceitful man, Claire Gentry fled from her life. Disguised as a man, Claire wagers all she owns in a poker game to locate the treasure her father sought. While her disguise holds, it doesn't protect her when one of her opponents turns out to be the only man she ever gave her heart to.

Nate Carter is no fool. Raised in an orphanage and sailing as the mysterious pirate Sam Steele, Nate is looking to gamble for a map that will lead him to a treasure. But when he looks over his cards, he's reminded of a past he'd rather forget--and the woman who could have given him everything he truly wanted.

After Nate wins the map, Claire has no choice but to accompany her old love on his quest. But running for their lives soon replaced running from the past. And if they survive the bloody battle for the treasure, they may just realize that what they really have been searching for isn't riches--but each other...

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A PIRATE'S POSSESSION is the third book of your pirate series. How is this one different than the other two?

Unlike WHAT A PIRATE DESIRES and ROMANCING THE PIRATE, most of A PIRATE'S POSSESSION takes place on land. I did that specifically to change things up a bit though of course I have scenes taking place on the ship because it's such an intimate setting. It's hard to avoid each other on a relatively small ship.

What similarities can we expect in this book as compared to the others?

Lots of action, gun battle, sword fights. The lovely, sultry setting of the Caribbean. A strong heroine who can more than hold her own. Villains. I always have a villain and like Sam and Luke from WHAT A PIRATE DESIRES and Blake and Alicia from ROMANCING THE PIRATE, both Nate and Claire have a past to deal with before they can move on.

You mention Luke and Sam, Blake and Alicia. Will we be seeing them again in this latest installment?

Yes. Part of the fun of a series is seeing characters you've fallen in love with come back. They don't steal the show, but you will see them again. They're family. Not all by blood, but this unlikely group of pirates and civilians have become family, so of course it makes sense that you'd see them pop up here and there.

One of the great things in ROMANCING THE PIRATE was the fun camaraderie between Nate, Vincent and Blake. Was that fun to write? And can we expect more of that dynamic in A PIRATE'S POSSESSION?

It was SO much fun to write! I love these men together. They have a real friendship with all the frustration and humour that goes along with it. Writing them together was so easy, it was just a matter of letting them go! You will definitely see much of that continue with Nate and Vincent in this book, and toward the end, when Blake steps in.

What's on your horizon as a writer?

I'm currently switching gears a bit and trying to sell a contemporary that I wrote and have begun another. I'm toying with a few ideas. I really love historical westerns but that market isn't strong right now so I may try a contemporary western. We'll see. First I have to finish this new book.

So no historicals in the future?

For sure! I can't see myself ever NOT writing historicals, but I would like to branch out and write both historicals and contemporaries.

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Are you ready for some pirates? Leave a comment or question for Michelle to be entered in her contest. I'll draw a winner at random next Sunday, who will receive a copy of A PIRATE'S POSSESSION just in time for the new year! Maybe this question to get you started: Who is your favorite pirate in film or literature, or which is your favorite pirate story? Void where prohibited. Best of luck!

Excerpt Thursday: Michelle Beattie

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're welcoming back Michelle Beattie as she celebrates the release of A PIRATE'S POSSESSION, available now from Berkley Sensation. Michelle has become known for adventurous romances set on the high seas of the 17th century--the Age of Sail. Join us Sunday when she'll be here to answer questions and give away a copy. Don't miss it!

Love and gold have one thing in common: they can only be buried for so long...

Abandoned by her father and married to a deceitful man, Claire Gentry fled from her life. Disguised as a man, Claire wagers all she owns in a poker game to locate the treasure her father sought. While her disguise holds, it doesn't protect her when one of her opponents turns out to be the only man she ever gave her heart to.

Nate Carter is no fool. Raised in an orphanage and sailing as the mysterious pirate Sam Steele, Nate is looking to gamble for a map that will lead him to a treasure. But when he looks over his cards, he's reminded of a past he'd rather forget--and the woman who could have given him everything he truly wanted.

After Nate wins the map, Claire has no choice but to accompany her old love on his quest. But running for their lives soon replaced running from the past. And if they survive the bloody battle for the treasure, they may just realize that what they really have been searching for isn't riches--but each other...

***

The deck had been quiet then and it was even more so now. Peeking out from under the lifeboat, she couldn't see anyone about at all. Not even Vincent. She slid out from the boat, hesitated. No movement came from the quarter deck. Leaving her bag where it lay, Claire looked around. Vincent wasn't at the bow, she crept toward the stern, couldn't see any shadow or movements there either.

Her heart lurched when she heard whistling and she froze. Logically she knew she was being ridiculous. She wasn't doing anything wrong. Yet.

It took her a moment to realize the whistling wasn't coming from the deck, but rather from the galley below. She breathed a sigh of relief, slowly unclenched her hands. Luck had never been her ally and she hoped that the fact that Vincent was below and Nate was asleep was a sign that her fortune was changing. Not about to waste the chance if that was indeed happening, Claire stole over to the captain's hatch.

Her heart beat quickly with her intent and her palms were suddenly damp. She wiped them on her trousers and grabbed the handle. Biting her lower lip, Claire eased open the hatch. Thankfully Nate kept a well tended ship and the hatch swung open soundlessly.

No light came from below and as she strained to listen, the only sound was that of Vincent's soft whistling and the whisper of wind sliding between the sails. Claire swallowed hard, closed her eyes and said a brief prayer. Opening them again, she stepped onto the ladder.

With each step down she paused to listen. It was only once she'd made it far enough to be able to close the hatch above her that she heard Nate's even and deep breathing. Her shoulders sagged. He was asleep. The hatch closed as silently as it had opened.

Since it had been dim above deck as well, her eyes didn't need time to accustom to the darkness. Recalling where she'd seen everything earlier, Claire crept toward the berth. She'd hoped she'd step on some clothing as it would mean she could simply search through his clothes for the map, but her feet hit nothing but smooth wood.

She only dared breathe in short, shallow breaths. Soon she was at the bedside, her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears. It seemed as though he'd fallen asleep without meaning to, spread out over the blankets. He hadn't even taken off his jacket.

Claire wiped her quaking hands onto her pants, reminded herself to remain steady. She could do this. She had to do this.

He was sleeping on his back and his large hands were at his sides. His head was turned slightly away from her. The part of her that remembered what they'd meant to each other, or rather what she'd believed they'd meant to each other, wanted to linger. It wanted to trace the arch of his brows and feel the roughness of his beard. It wanted to once again be taken in his arms and to be cherished.

For God's sake, stop it, she scolded herself. The map, remember the map. Remember the lies, the hurt.

To that end, she deliberately kept her gaze off his face. Reaching forward, she slid her hand into the pocket of his jacket. Her fingers brushed against the paper and Claire's heart leapt to her throat. She had it!

She slowly pulled her hand away. When Nate didn't move, Claire exhaled a trembling breath.

She looked at him once more, had a moment when she wished things could have been different. But knowing they weren't, could never be, she backed away from the berth, tucked the folded map into her undershirt and turned for the ladder.

She got as far as the base of it before she was grabbed from behind.

The scream ripped from her throat.

"Goddammit, Claire," he swore as she thrashed to break free.

Her arms flailed wildly, desperate to connect with some part of him that would make him release her. Her elbow struck his chest. Her foot came down hard on his. Growling, he spun her around. Her right knee came racing up.

"No, you don't," he said as he deftly wrapped a large hand around the back of her knee and held it there, a mere breath away from where she'd intended to strike him. His other hand grabbed her left wrist and held it shackled down at her hip.

Luckily Claire was right-handed. Smiling sweetly, she aimed for his jaw.

Guest Author: Lila DiPasqua

This week here at Unusual Historicals we're welcoming contributor Lila DiPasqua as she celebrates the release of her debut, AWAKENED BY A KISS, available now from Berkley Sensation. This collection of re-imagined romantic, erotic fairy tales is set in 17th century France!

Sleeping Beau: Five years ago, the notorious rake, Adrien d'Aspe, Marquis de Beaulain, was awakened by a sensuous kiss--and experienced a night of raw ecstasy that was branded into his memory. Years later, he spots his mysterious seductress--and this time, he has no intention of letting her go...

Little Red Writing: Nicolas de Savignac, Comte de Lambelle, has been assigned by the King to uncover the secret identity of the author writing scandalous stories about powerful courtiers. He never expected his investigation would lead to his grandmother's house, or to a ravishing woman who would stir his deepest hunger...

Bewitching in Boots: Elisabeth de Roussel, daughter of the King, is accustomed to getting what she wants--and she wants Tristan de Tiersonnier, Comte de Saint-Marcel, an ex-commander of the King's private Guard. A recent injury has forced Tristan to leave his distinguished position, but Elisabeth is determined to make him see he's every bit the man he once was--and more than man enough for her...

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"Lila DiPasqua brilliantly pens three unique stories filled with mirth, passion and sinfully charming heroes." ~ Romance Junkies

"AWAKENED BY A KISS is a magnificent debut! Not only was I enchanted by each of the three classic tales which Ms DiPasqua has turned into delectable fiery tales, but it was so refreshing to have the setting of each of these stories in France." ~ The Romance Dish

"Lila DiPasqua puts a steamy erotic twist on classic fairy tales that will make you rethink the purpose of a bedtime story. I most certainly look forward to more from this author." ~ Fiction Vixen

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Can you tell us a little bit about your debut historical romance novel, AWAKENED BY A KISS?

AWAKENED BY A KISS is the first in my "Fiery Tales" series. It's a collection of three classic fairy tales, wickedly retold. I've taken "Sleeping Beauty," "Little Red Riding Hood" and "Puss in Boots" and have given them my own romantic and sexy twists. This steamy historical romance anthology was inspired by Charles Perrault's fairy tales. He was the first to write down folklore that had been retold verbally for generations and add morals to his stories--long before the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. Perrault was the creator of The Tales of Mother Goose, and I set this book in his lifetime--when the genre of fairy tales was born--the majestic kingdom of 17TH century France.

Where did the term "Fiery Tales" come from?

It was actually my husband who came up with "fiery tales." I was trying to think of a title that would best describe my fairy tale re-tellings, and I thought my husband's suggestion was brilliant. It put a big grin on his face when he learned Berkley was keeping it.

Can you give some interesting tidbits you discovered while researching the time period AWAKENED BY A KISS is set in?

There was so much that's fascinating about this time period! It was deliciously decadent, full of elegance and excesses. The king, after all, was Louis XIV, the Sun King. He did everything on a grand scale and was full of interesting habits and quirks.

He spent his days strolling about the vast gardens at Versailles--his throng of courtiers and violinists following him around--because he felt it was unhealthy to be indoors. He adored women and LOVED sex. It's been said that he had sex up to twice a day into his seventies! He felt as king, he had the right to have any woman he wanted, married or not. He hated convents because he felt that a woman shouldn't be shut away like that. After all, women were placed on earth for a man's pleasure, right? With a number of mistresses, he had a brood of illegitimate children, most of whom he legitimized.

It was his second wife, Madame de Maintenon, who managed to curb his vice-ridden ways. She convinced the aging King to stop his womanizing and live a more pious life. The problem was, this pious woman's plan to make the King Louis a better man backfired on her. He may have given up his womanizing, but he still had a libido that wouldn't quit. As his wife, she was now the sole focus of his carnal attention. She was to take care of all his sexual needs.

Whenever the urge would hit him, King Louis would have his wife (who was two years older than him) summoned outdoors. Image how thrilled she must have been, in her sixties, being summoned out of prayer, once or twice a day, out to the gardens--only to be asked to step around the bushes for His Majesty's pleasure.

While courtiers stood nearby.

A red-faced Madame de Maintenon would have to walk back to the palace past a mass of softly snickering courtiers.

There are actual letters that have survived where Madame de Maintenon wrote to her confessor, asking for the Church's permission to deny King Louis sex. She felt that since the Church considered sex to be for the purpose of procreation, and she was well past the age to provide the king with any children, she and Louis shouldn't be having sex any longer. Unfortunately for her, she didn't get the Church's blessing to refuse him. Rather, the letter in response encouraged her to attend to her husband's needs as it kept the king from indulging in extra-marital affairs, keeping him from sin.

When Louis died at age 76, she wrote a letter to her cousin stating, "Oh what a martyrdom I have endured!"

What's next in the Fiery Tales series?

In November 2010, my next "Fiery Tales" collection, THE PRINCESS IN HIS BED, will hit the shelves with three more sinfully seductive historical heroes who find their perfect match. Inspired by "The Emperor's New Clothes," "The Ugly Duckling" and "The Princess and the Pea," I put my own sensual spin on these classic fairy tales written by Hans Christian Andersen. They are scandalously retold and renamed "The Marquis' New Clothes," "The Lovely Duckling" and "The Princess and the Diamonds."

In 2011 I'm excited to bring readers a full-length "Fiery Tales" novel based on one classic fairy tale! Which one, you ask? One of the most beloved fairy tales of all time, Cinderella, as it's never been done before! It will be just as romantic and steamy as AWAKENED BY A KISS and THE PRINCESS IN HIS BED. This Cinderella tale has a sinfully delicious hero and a strong quick-witted heroine. And yes, there is a ball, a lovable yet highly opinionated fairy godmother and a cast of eccentric secondary characters to keep the hero and heroine on their toes.

In the meantime, be sure to check out a juicy excerpt of AWAKENED BY A KISS.

About Lila:

At age fourteen, Lila's best friend sneaked a romance novel out of her grandmother's house. After devouring it, Lila was hooked on romance novels for life. Today she lives with her real-life hero husband and three children and is a firm believer in the happily-ever-after. She loves history and enjoys traveling. She has been to four continents so far. Weaving in interesting historical facts she discovers during her travels, Lila writes stories about historical alpha-heroes and the heroines who make them lose their hearts. Her debut novel, AWAKENED BY A KISS is featured in Doubleday as well as Rhapsody Book Club.

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Would you like to win a copy of Lila's sexy, exciting debut? Just leave a comment or question for your chance to win. I'll draw the winner at random next Sunday. Void where prohibited. Best of luck, readers, and thanks to Lila for stopping by!