Guest Blog: Anita Davison

This week, we're welcoming historical fiction author Anita Davison. Her novel, TRENCARROW SECRET, is a coming-of-age tale that brings the Victorian Age to life, with memorable characters and a truly unexpected ending.  Anita's giving away a copy of this title. all you have to do is leave a comment on the character interview for your chance to win. Here's the blurb:

Isabel Hart is afraid of two things, the maze at Trencarrow where she got lost as a young child, and the lake where her brother David saved her from drowning in a boating accident. With her twenty-first birthday and the announcement of her engagement imminent, Isabel decides it is time for her to face her demons and ventures into the maze. There she sees something which will alter her perceptions of herself and her family forever. The house party gathers and as more secrets are revealed, Isabel doubts she has chosen the right man, although her future fiancé has more vested in this marriage than Isabel realizes and has no intention of letting her go easily. Will Isabel be able to put her preconceptions of marriage behind her and take charge of her own life, or is she destined to be controlled by others and a past she cannot break away from? 

Interview with David Hart

I appreciate your showing up for this interview, David.

You’re welcome, and why wouldn’t I turn up? I’m usually close by whenever I’m needed.

Perhaps, but you have the reputation of being somewhat elusive.

[Blinks] Really? I wasn’t aware of that. I admit time is a concept I don’t have a firm grasp of, and I like my own company. I tend to hang around down by the lake. I have some sort of connection with the water and like to sit looking at it for hours at a time.

And the boathouse I believe? Isabel tells me you prefer to stay there during your summers in Cornwall rather than the main house.

[Shrugs] Nothing wrong with craving a little privacy is there?  I brought some chums from school down one year and we had a grand time, swimming at night and holding supper parties in the boathouse.  I suppose the main house with its rigid timetable lost its appeal after that.  Besides, no one bothered me at the boathouse unless I invited them. That suited me very well, so I continued the habit.

Doesn’t Isabel miss you?

Why should she? I’m always close by whenever Izzy needs me. She’s a shy, insecure girl and has needed me quite a lot recently. Ever since......

The accident on the lake?

[Narrows his eyes] I realise you need to delve into our lives, but I’ll offer a word of warning. No one in the family talks about that day Isabel almost drowned.  The poor girl had nightmares for weeks and even now she keeps well away from the water.  I tend to meet her over by that old oak where the bench is. Somehow the lake still upsets her. She won’t discuss it, even with me.

But  you saved her life, surely you have discussed that day with her?

Not really. She mentions how it felt sometimes, to be dragged down by weeds and to see the sky through deep green water but not be able to reach it, while her lungs felt as if they were bursting. Pretty horrific for her I’d say. She always starts to shake at that point so I change the subject.  Why upset her?

She’s almost twenty-one now. Don’t you feel that she’s over protected because of something that happened four years ago?

 [Rolls eyes] Time means little when something like that happens. Has it really been four years? I had almost forgotten that myself. Perhaps I should remind her she has her whole life to live and can’t live in the past.

How do you feel about her becoming engaged to Jared Winters?
[Sniffs] I don't like it at all actually. Jared isn’t right for her, but I can’t simply go up to her and order her not to marry him. She thinks she’s doing what Ma and Pa want.

And is she? Doing what her parents want?

[Stares off across the lake] Pa certainly. He pays attention to all that social status and marrying the right kind to keep family assets intact sort of thing. Ma is more concerned about Isabel’s happiness. I had a word with her actually about this very subject.

Does your mother intend to do something about it?

[Face lights up] Oh, yes.  But Ma is very ill you know, and Isabel hasn’t been told.  Ridiculous if you ask me, she isn’t a child. However, Pa says he wants to wait until the time is right. I’m more practical and if it were up to me I’d come right out with it. And actually, Ma and I have something up our sleeves concerning Isabel.

What do you mean?
Well, Ma has invited a charming young man to spend the summer at Trencarrow. Chap called Lord Strachan. I doubt it’s a plot to match make or anything like that, but who knows?  She thinks that if Isabel is made to realise there are other attractive, eligible young men willing to pay her some attention, she will decide for herself that she doesn’t have to do what she thinks is expected of her all the time.

Suppose this young man doesn’t take to Isabel?
Hah! How could he not? Isabels’ quite the most lovely thing I have ever seen, and that’s quite an admission coming from her brother. She’s built like a racehorse, all red gold mane and long, graceful limbs which make her look as if she glides rather than walks.  She has a kind heart and the sweetest disposition too, which would be entirely wasted on Jared. I only hope she finds out before it’s too late.

Weren’t you once engaged to Jared’s sister, Evaline Winters?
[Nerve jumps beside his mouth and he looks away] How did you find that out? Oh well, no matter. It’s true. We were very young and Evaline would sneak off and meet me at the boathouse. Young love is very strong and all that. I doubt we would have made it official at all if my father hadn’t found us.  Before I knew it, there was an announcement in The Times. Evaline was thrilled of course, engaged at sixteen seems to be something girls in our circle go for. Heady stuff for a seventeen-year- old – and I’m talking about myself!

So what happened – because you didn’t marry Evaline?

[Inhales through pursed lips] I fluffed it I’m afraid.  Acted like a complete idiot and during a raucous night out at the theatre in London with some school friends, I took up with some actress from the show. Can’t even remember her name now. Evaline found out and broke off the engagement. Broke her heart apparently, not that I fully appreciated that at the time. Too busy thanking my lucky stars for my escape.  [Sighs] I wonder sometimes that I may have been to rash and imagine what being married to her would have been like. Quite agreeable I should think, she’s quite a character. Too late now though.

Tell me more about yours and your mother’s plans for Isabel?
Ma knows she’s dying, and she’s determined to tell Isabel the truth about her and Pa’s marriage, how it affected her life and that she wants more for Izzy. She’ll pick her moment and when she does, it will be perfect. Ma’s shrewd like that.  She may look like a fragile iris whose neck can barely support her head, but she’s cleverer that Pa at times, and persistent. She’ll put Izzy right, you’ll see.

You could help do that too. Isabel listens to you doesn’t she?
[Frowns] Yes, she does. We’ve always been close. Maybe I’ll put an odd word into her ear too. Let her know she has alternatives no one will hold against her. I would hate to see Izzy trapped in a cold marriage with a bounder like Winters. He’s young and brash, and casual about other people’s feelings. There’s a cruel streak in him too, and I doubt he’ll treat her with the delicacy she needs. He’ll trample over her emotions and disappoint her. 

You’ll have to pick your moment too, won’t you?

[Laughs] indeed I will or Izzy won’t thank me for meddling. She won’t like it that we’ve been keeping secrets from her either, but I’ll have to face that one.

Thank you for talking to me, David. I do hope you can help make Isabel see things more clearly.

I’m confident I will. [Sniffs the air] Summer’s coming, I can feel it. May it be a good one this year.

Learn more about the enigmatic David Hart in Anita Davison's Trencarrow Secret, available now from MuseItUp Publishing, Smashwords and Amazon for Kindle.

Excerpt Thursday: Trencarrow Secret by Anita Davison

This week on Excerpt Thursday, we're welcoming historical fiction author Anita Davison. Her novel, TRENCARROW SECRET, is a coming-of-age tale that brings the Victorian Age to life, with memorable characters and a truly unexpected ending.  Join us Sunday, when Anita will feature a Q&A will one of the characters of the book. She's also giving away a copy of this title. Here's the blurb:

Isabel Hart is afraid of two things, the maze at Trencarrow where she got lost as a young child, and the lake where her brother David saved her from drowning in a boating accident. With her twenty-first birthday and the announcement of her engagement imminent, Isabel decides it is time for her to face her demons and ventures into the maze. There she sees something which will alter her perceptions of herself and her family forever. The house party gathers and as more secrets are revealed, Isabel doubts she has chosen the right man, although her future fiancé has more vested in this marriage than Isabel realizes and has no intention of letting her go easily. Will Isabel be able to put her preconceptions of marriage behind her and take charge of her own life, or is she destined to be controlled by others and a past she cannot break away from? 

**An Excerpt from TRENCARROW SECRET**

“What are you doing cowering here?” David joined Isabel on the terrace. She moved aside to make room for him, taking care the rough wall didn’t snag her skirt.

He rested his forearms on the stonework, his boyish grin intact. “As you know, parties aren’t my favourite environment. But I couldn’t miss this one.”

“I’m glad. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.” Isabel nodded to where their parents stood among a knot of guests. “Mother is the centre of attention, as always. She looks happy doesn’t she?”

“As long as Papa can keep holding her up.”

“David!”

“I thought we weren’t going to pretend anymore?” His hard look silenced her.

“Let’s not talk of it tonight.” She covered a sudden rush of sadness with a playful nudge.

Laura and Nicholas stood on the edge of the dance floor, their gazes locked. They didn’t so much as dance, but swayed together in each other’s arms.

Isabel studied Nicholas, bemused. Had he changed in the last few days? Or had she? His touch when he came to wish her a happy birthday no longer made her squirm, and those blue eyes, so penetrating at their first meeting, seemed bland, and empty of malice. He looked simply young and socially clumsy in his expensive new suit. Not a dangerous rake at all.

Following her gaze, David grinned.  “Laura doesn’t look like a woman recently frog-marched to the altar, does she?” A low laugh rumbled in his chest and he folded his arms as if to keep it trapped.

“Aunt Margot claims sole credit. Anyone who comes within earshot is treated to a lecture on what a wonderful, well-bred young man he is.”

“Talking of well-bred young men, I saw you dancing with Lord Strachan. You make a handsome couple.”

 Isabel fiddled with her pendant, running the weight of the stone through her fingers as her self-doubt returned in a dismaying rush. “Don’t look at me like that. It doesn’t matter one whit how I feel. He’s going to make an offer for Evaline.” An image of the two of them in the garden with the soft moonlight behind them invaded Isabel’s head.

David’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. “He doesn’t love Evaline.”

“Love has little to do with it. His family has expectations. Even so, after the events of the last few days he must think I’m a liability.”

“If you mean George’s accident and the episode last night, you’re hardly responsible. I credit you with better instincts than that.” His gaze swept upward from her feet to her head. “And if above a hundred pounds of Mr Worth’s expertise cannot do it, nothing will.” He gave a soft, derisive laugh. “Do it, Izzy. Claim him. He’s yours for the taking.”

“Do you really think so? But can I compete with Evaline? She’s beautiful and accomplished. She would never fall into a faint at the site of a privet hedge.”

David’s chuckle was cut off when he glanced up. “Oh, Lord, she’s coming this way.” He braced his hands together, cracking his knuckles. “Pardon me if I abandon you, Isabel.”

Before she could prevent him, he was gone.

Encased in sapphire silk, Evaline tripped across the terrace on fairy feet to envelop Isabel in a powdery embrace. The unmistakable scent of “Joy” tinged the summer air.

“Isabel, what a wonderful ball, and I so love your gown!” She tucked her arm through Isabel’s as if her spiteful behavior had never been. 

“Thank you, Evaline. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Have you seen Lord Strachan?” Her voice rose, apparently for the benefit of nearby listeners. “He promised me the next dance.”

“No, I haven’t.” Isabel made to walk away, but Evaline grasped her arm.

“Oh, there he is.” She tugged Isabel along with her, making a bee line for Henry across the lawn.

Standing like a wheatsheaf in a field of daisies, Henry loomed above a group of simpering young women who giggled behind their fans.

“Henry, there you are,” Evaline grabbed his arm like a drowning woman and the girls melted away, varying degrees of disappointment on their faces.

“Er- yes of course. I would like a word with you actually.” He directed his words at Evaline but his gaze had stayed satisfyingly on Isabel.

“Really? Well now you have my attention. Oh, by the way, thank you, Isabel, for finding him for me.” The words, ‘you may go now’ hung in the air as she tugged his arm. “Do let’s get some punch before the music begins again, I’m so thirsty.”

Sighing, Isabel eased her way through tightly packed bodies, murmuring ‘excuse me’, and ‘thank you’ repeatedly. Some she recognised and greeted warmly, but others she barely knew at all. Where had they all come from?

Hot and thirsty, Isabel found she was reluctant to follow Evaline and Henry to the punchbowl, so she slipped away from the main pathway and circled the shrubbery outside the kitchens where she knew a table with lemonade stood.

The music and chatter receded as she entered the darker part of the garden where swallows soared and dipped to the birdbath on the side lawn, filled their beaks and swooped off again. Bats performed a silent dance amongst the topmost branches, hovering for a second at the edge of her vision, but were gone before Isabel could be sure they were there.

A silent shadow detached itself from a towering rhododendron and stepped into her path.

“How fortunate to find you alone, at last.” An alcohol-fuelled voice brought her to a startled halt.

“Jared! My goodness, you scared me jumping out like that.” Lit by a lantern from above, his features looked sharp with flat, dark eyes. She glanced round to see if anyone else stood near, not knowing quite why. “Are you enjoying the ball?” Her voice came out higher than she intended.

He lifted a brow and took a slow gulp from his champagne glass, and held it out. “A toast, Isabel. To you, on your birthday.”

“Thank you, Jared, but I cannot join you. I don’t have a glass.” Suspecting he was halfway drunk, she made to brush past him, but his hand shot out and encircled her upper arm with strong fingers.

“Have you enjoyed your summer of flirtation with Strachan?” he said, slurring his words.

Pets during the Victorian Era

By: Isabel Roman

During most of history dogs weren't exactly considered pets. I'm sure there were exeptions, but then again, there always are.Dogs were working animals who could get on with the household enough for some friendly play during off hours. But as pets? As with so many things during the 1800s this, too changed. Dogs as pets became not only the fashion but a family dog (as opposed to a working dog) as well.

From Victoriana

For a fashionable woman in Victorian England a pet miniature dog was as indispensable as an opera box or presentation at court.  She was nobody without her pet who accompanied her wherever she went, and was fed and housed, according to canine requirements, as daintily as the heir to the title and estates.  In spite of the devotion of mistresses to their dogs, however, it must be admitted that they were extremely fickle in their attachments, as the fashion in lapdogs changed as rapidly as that in gowns and bonnets. 

During one London season, the favorite miniature dog had been the small animal known as the Schipperke, mainly because its hair was short and black. Long-haired dogs in drawing-rooms and boudoirs were found to be incompatible because white hairs on furniture and gowns were absolutely distressing. Even a poodle was found to be a nuisance, and required its own valet or maid to keep it in condition.

 “Lapdog” was the old-fashioned name for the miniature dogs called toys, and quaintly indicated where the line was drawn between household animals. They were dogs small enough to be held in the lap, and they were emphatically pets for the parlor, requiring the care of the lady herself, or of a well-trained maid.

It goes on about which kind of dogs, but I’m sure Labs and German Shepards weren’t allowed. They were outside dogs, not yappers.

Isabel Roman is the pseudonym used by writing team Christine Koehler and Marisa Velez. Their Victorian Druids series has been featured on The Home Shopping Network and is available in bookstores everywhere. Currently they're working on a Prohibition-era series and wondering why time flies so quickly. Visit the Isabel Roman blog!

An Ordinary Day In: The Life of a Victorian Chaperone

By Jennifer Linforth

You know that silly game of placing 'in bed' at the end of any fortune cookie fortune to completely alter its meaning? My husband and I have a game similar to that in terms of our four year old daughter. We call it 'things we don't want to hear on prom night.' Such as when she runs downstairs and says, "I can't get my panties off" or "I'm a naked baby!" or "You're not doing it right" or "May I have it now, please?"

You get the picture....

In imaging my daughter out on prom night I truly wish for Victorian times and the era of the chaperone. These women were usually Aunts, older married or widowed women and were tasked with supervising the innocence of the unwed Victorian lady. Their daily life involved overseeing all their charges did—and made sure no improper conduct occurred during courtship.

Daily the Victorian chaperone had to make sure etiquette was carried out to the utmost degree. They remained with their charges, for a woman was never to go anywhere with a gentleman especially without her mother’s permission and never late at night.

The chaperone may have taught her charge how to flirt with her fan, for that behavior was social acceptable to a degree. Flirting otherwise was not.

A single woman never walked alone. Her chaperone was with her. If she was at a point in courtship where she could walk out with a gentleman--a chaperone saw to it they walked apart and did not have any physical conduct. A gentleman could assist a lady over rough patches of ground but that contact was the only he was truly allowed with a woman not his fiancée.

The chaperone saw to it a proper woman did not ride alone in a closed carriage with a gentleman not her relative. She also saw that she did not receive a man at home if she was alone. The chaperone had to be present and if not her, then another family member.

I certainly think in 2011 society that a chaperone system would meet with wild protest. But what about the Victorian era? Do you think the youth protested it at all in some manner or was it so acceptable they just went with the flow?

Jennifer Linforth expands the classics by continuing The Phantom of the Opera. MADRIGAL and ABENDLIED are available now. Look for future books based on the classics, in addition to her unique historical romances. "Ms. Linforth's prose is phenomenally beautiful and hauntingly breathtaking." ~ Coffee Time Romance

Guest Author: Zoe Archer

This week on Unusual Historicals, we're welcoming back one of our fabulous contributors, Zoe Archer, as she celebrates the release of the third and fourth installments of her "Blades of the Rose" series. REBEL is available now, and STRANGER will hit the shelves on December 7. Both take place in an alternative Victorian era where magic thrives.

Here's the cover copy for STRANGER:

He protects the world's magic--with his science. But even the best scientists can fall prey to the right chemistry...

LOOKING FOR TROUBLE

Gemma Murphy has a nose for a story--even if the boys in Chicago's newsrooms would rather focus on her chest. So when she runs into a handsome man of mystery discussing how to save the world from fancy-pants Brit conspirators, she's sensing a scoop. Especially when he mentions there's magic involved. Of course, getting him on the record would be easier if he hadn't caught her eavesdropping...

LIGHTING HIS FUSE

Catullus Graves knows what it's like to be shut out: his ancestors were slaves. And he's a genius inventor with appropriately eccentric habits, so even people who love him find him a little odd. But after meeting a certain red-headed scribbler, he's thinking of other types of science. Inconvenient, given that he needs to focus on preventing the end of the world as we know it. But with Gemma's insatiable curiosity sparking Catullus's inventive impulses, they might set off something explosive anyway....

***

"Set in 1875 England, the final volume in the Blades of the Rose quartet is a thrilling installment in the series as past characters join forces to save the world. There's action, adventure and love... Archer has proven herself to be a grand mistress of the historical paranormal who knows how to blend history and fantasy without one overshadowing the other, a feat worthy of her Blades." ~ RT Book Reviews on STRANGER.

***

Who are the Blades of the Rose?

The Blades of the Rose is a secret organization of men and women who travel the globe to find and protect the world's magic from exploitation. And when I say they travel the globe, I mean it. If they had frequent flier miles back in the 1870s, the Blades would have earned a lot of points.

You were here in October to talk about books one and two in the series. Tell us about books three and four.

REBEL is the story of Astrid Bramfield and Nathan Lesperance. Astrid was once a Blade, as was her husband, but whilst on a mission together, he was killed by the Blades' enemy, the Heirs of Albion. Her husband actually died in her arms. Deeply scarred, Astrid severed her ties with the Blades and retreated to the depths of the Canadian Rockies. When fate has her path cross with Native attorney Nathan Lesperance, neither Astrid nor Nathan are prepared for the immediate attraction between them, nor the danger that threatens them from every side.

Canadian Rockies? Sounds like an unusual setting.

Unusual, as well as gorgeous, dangerous and rich with folklore. Perfect for a Blades of the Rose adventure.

What about book four in the series, STRANGER?

STRANGER is the final book in this initial four-book series, and it features my absolute favorite character, Catullus Graves.

Tell us about Catullus.

He's the Blades' scientific genius, the man responsible for inventing all of the diabolical gadgets the Blades take out into the field to help them in their work. The Graves family has been creating amazing devices for the Blades for generations, and Catullus is the latest scion. He's brilliant, has a massive waistcoat collection, and fancies women with freckles. Unfortunately for Catullus, he's far more comfortable inventing devices than talking with women, so when he meets American reporter Gemma Murphy (who has quite a few freckles), he's both attracted and flummoxed. Poor Catullus!

This is the Unusual Historicals blog. STRANGER is set mostly in England. What's so unusual about that?

This isn't the England of ballrooms, drawing rooms and house parties. From the moment Catullus and Gemma land in Liverpool, they are on the run, traveling by train, horse and on foot. These are the country roads and small villages of England, nothing glamorous about it. They also go to Glastonbury, London, and a surprise location I can't disclose without spoilers. Plus, Catullus is a Black Briton--an important component of British life that isn't seen very often in historical romance.

Now that the series is wrapping up, do you have plans for more Blades of the Rose books?

I'd love to write more! It all depends on how well these books do. *stares meaningfully at readers*

What's next for you?

Right now, I'm working on a new paranormal historical series called THE HELLRAISERS. It's about a group of 18th century English rakes who inadvertently release the Devil from his prison and literally raise hell. These guys are radically different from the Blades. The Blades are good guys, through and through. The Hellraisers are very, very bad boys.

I like bad boys.

Get in line.

***

Here's the deal, readers. Zoë is seeking locations for her next four Blades novels. Leave a comment suggesting where you'd like to see a "Blades of the Rose" adventure set. One commenter will win REBEL and STRANGER! (US and Canada only, thanks.) I'll draw the winner at random next Sunday. Void where prohibited. Best of luck!

Guest Author: Zoe Archer

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're featuring Unusual Historicals contributor and Kensington author ZOE ARCHER as she celebrates the release of the first two books in her Victorian "BLADES OF THE ROSE" series. Last month saw its launch with the Mongolia-set WARRIOR, and the series continues in October with SCOUNDREL, which takes place in Greece. Join us on Sunday when Zoe will be here to answer questions and give away goodies! Here's the blurb for SCOUNDREL:

The Blades of the Rose are sworn to protect the sources of magic in the world. But the work is dangerous--and they can't always protect their own...

READY FOR ACTION...

London Harcourt's father is bent on subjugating the world's magic to British rule. But since London is a mere female, he hasn't bothered to tell her so. He's said only that he's leading a voyage to the Greek isles. No matter, after a smothering marriage and three years of straitlaced widowhood, London jumps at the opportunity--unfortunately, right into the arms of Bennett Day.

RISKING IT ALL...

Bennett is a ladies' man, when he's not dodging lethal attacks to protect the powers of the ancients from men like London's father. Sometimes, he's a ladies' man even when he is dodging them. But the minute he sees London he knows she will require his full attention. The woman is lovely, brilliant, and the only known speaker of a dialect of ancient Greek that holds the key to calling down the wrath of the gods. Bennett will be risking his life again--but around London, what really worries him is the danger to his heart...

***


***

October is month two of the four-month back-to-back releases of the "Blades of the Rose" series, which means that on October 5, SCOUNDREL will be hitting shelves. But my September release, WARRIOR ("Blades of the Rose" Book One), is still available!

SCOUNDREL received a starred review from Publishers Weekly and was also Pick of the Week. PW called SCOUNDREL a "delightful tale of an intelligent, competent woman sharing adventure and romance with a formidable partner...[heroine] London's personal growth paces the adventure story beautifully, and readers will cheer for both the romance and the Blades."

Who are the Blades of the Rose?

The Blades of the Rose make up a secret organization of men and women who follow the four points of the compass to find and protect the world's magic. Blades are explorers, cryptographers, trackers, inventors and adventurers, protectors of the underdog, defenders of freedom--all ever-so-slightly mad. Considering that Blades aren't allowed to use magic that isn't theirs by right or by gift, and that their foes are ruthless men bent on world subjugation, to be a Blade means you're a little bonkers. But that's one reason why I love them.

You say that the Blades travel all over the world to protect magic?

Yes! WARRIOR is set in Outer Mongolia, SCOUNDREL is set in Greece and islands in the Aegean Sea. Then REBEL takes us to the Canadian Rockies, and finally STRANGER is set in England, but not the England most historical readers ever get to see--plus a secret location that I can't reveal yet.

I'm sorry...did you say the BLADES books are historical romances?

Yes.

And there's magic?

That's right.

Plus adventure? And unusual locations?

Yep.

Um...I don't think I've ever read a romance like that before.

You probably won't! With the BLADES series, I've tried to create a brand new subgenre that combines rich historical detail, exotic locations, unique magic and a lot of action and adventure. The heroes are sexy and the heroines kick butt in a non-anachronistic way. If readers come away from these books having had a great time, then I'm happy.

Is the hero of SCOUNDREL really that much of a SCOUNDREL?

Oh, Bennett is completely, utterly, totally unrepentant about his scoundrel-ism. But he's not malicious about it. He just really, really loves women. A lot. And they love him. A lot.

So Bennett isn't capable of settling down?

He doesn't think so. Yet I have it on good authority that he's about to meet the one woman he can't live without. Too bad she happens to be the daughter of his most hated enemy...

***

Readers, who is your favorite scoundrel? Leave a comment or question for the chance to win signed copies of both WARRIOR and SCOUNDREL. The winner will be chosen at random announced on Sunday. Giveaway is limited to readers in the US and Canada. Void where prohibited. We'll draw a winner at random next Sunday. Best of luck!

Excerpt Thursday: Zoe Archer

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're featuring Unusual Historicals contributor and Kensington author ZOE ARCHER as she celebrates the release of the first two books in her Victorian "BLADES OF THE ROSE" series. Last month saw its launch with the Mongolia-set WARRIOR, and the series continues in October with SCOUNDREL, which takes place in Greece. Join us on Sunday when Zoe will be here to answer questions and give away goodies! Here's the blurb for SCOUNDREL:

The Blades of the Rose are sworn to protect the sources of magic in the world. But the work is dangerous--and they can't always protect their own...

READY FOR ACTION...

London Harcourt's father is bent on subjugating the world's magic to British rule. But since London is a mere female, he hasn't bothered to tell her so. He's said only that he's leading a voyage to the Greek isles. No matter, after a smothering marriage and three years of straitlaced widowhood, London jumps at the opportunity--unfortunately, right into the arms of Bennett Day.

RISKING IT ALL...

Bennett is a ladies' man, when he's not dodging lethal attacks to protect the powers of the ancients from men like London's father. Sometimes, he's a ladies' man even when he is dodging them. But the minute he sees London he knows she will require his full attention. The woman is lovely, brilliant, and the only known speaker of a dialect of ancient Greek that holds the key to calling down the wrath of the gods. Bennett will be risking his life again--but around London, what really worries him is the danger to his heart...

***

Publishers Weekly selected SCOUNDREL as a Pick of the Week!

"Archer follows 2010's WARRIOR with another delightful tale of an intelligent, competent woman sharing adventure and romance with a formidable partner... London's personal growth paces the adventure story beautifully, and readers will cheer for both the romance and the Blades." ~ Publishers Weekly

***

"How did you know I was from England?" she asked. "The vendor was speaking English to everyone."

"Your posture. English ladies have a particular way of holding themselves, as though a disapproving governess was glaring at them."

"Different than, say, a French or Greek lady?"

"There's bundles more self-imposed Anglican morality in an Englishwoman's stance. I am," he added, with a slow, suggestive smile, "an avid connoisseur of the language of the body."

"Of that, I have no doubt," she said, dry.

His chuckle was low and velvet and very, very carnal. If he was unleashed on polite British society, virgin debutantes and genteel matrons would turn into Bacchae, tearing at their clothes and ripping apart anyone foolish enough to stand between themselves and the object of their desire. She felt much the same uncharacteristic urge.

London busied herself with pretending to admire a gold silk scarf at a booth. As she did this, she sent a cautious glance towards the beautiful English stranger. With a small, internal start, she realized that his stance only appeared to be negligent and easy. He was, in fact, vigilant, ready as if poised for movement. And his eyes, though glittering with a secret amusement, were never at rest. He watched the marketplace, keen as a blade. He was looking for someone.

But who? She dare not ask such an impertinent question, and didn't know if she wanted the answer. There was something, the edge of a darkness, in him, or, at the least, a potential for danger. She wondered if he was armed. Travelers to Greece were advised to bring at least a revolver if they planned on leaving Athens. But this man's strong body would be weapon enough.

"Is it within the rules to ask what brings you to Greece?" London asked.

"Never said there were any rules." A small dimple appeared in the corner of his mouth. London wanted to touch it. Or, better yet, feel it with her lips.

"If there were," she said, "you don't play by them."

He gave an unapologetic shrug. "Following rules means there's no fun or pleasure in life."

She was certain he had both in abundance. "And decorum? Responsibility?"

"Decorum stifles. Women, especially."

London picked up the scarf and draped it around her shoulders, as a lady might at the ballet. "That sounds like a libertine's well-practiced speech to lure women into dalliance."

"There's always truth in seduction. That's why it works." He stepped closer and loosened the scarf from her shoulders, then he gently wrapped it around her waist like a sash. She felt it like an embrace. His deft, long fingers tied the fabric into a decorative knot. "Much better. More Greek," he murmured in approval.

London's pulse sped at his nearness, yet she did not step away. "But what of responsibility?"

He gazed at her levelly, and in his clear aquatic eyes, she saw a steadiness of purpose that she had not anticipated. "I take my responsibilities seriously."

"They must be the only things you take seriously," she answered.

No mistaking the way he looked at her, how his gaze flicked down to her mouth and held there for more than a moment. "Try me, little troublemaker."

She felt herself standing above the sea, the warm water beckoning her to plunge into its wet, welcoming depths, frolic in its waves. She wanted to jump. She was afraid of the height. "Sir, you are more dangerous than Barbary pirate," she said, after a breathless pause.

Again, he laughed, something he seemed to do readily. A bedroom laugh. Teasing. Intimate. And such a laugh made her body respond without thought. Her skin felt sensitive and a molten heat gathered in her core. Oh, it had been a long time since a man touched her, and not a single, half-hearted caress from Lawrence affected her as one laugh from this stranger did. She recalled how, moments earlier, his fingers had brushed her hand, and the strange, intense response even that minor contact had engendered.

"Know many Barbary pirates?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I do, now."

It was then that she realized something. All this time, he had been speaking to her as his equal. Granted, he was a devil of a flirt, but he did not seem to consider her female sex a liability. He talked truthfully, openly, without the polite phrases or evasions so common to the speech of every other man she knew. And when she answered him, it was as if she'd unlatched a little door inside herself and could meet him on the level ground, confident in herself.

"I think you are the dangerous one," he said, "but you don't know it yet."

Again, their eyes caught and held. No, she was not imagining it. Something hot and knowing in their shared look. And that other thing, that tie that bound them in ways she did not understand.

Good Times: Parlor Games

By Jennifer Linforth

In preparation to interview an escape artist, gambler, and magician for an upcoming book set in Victorian London, I stumbled into the world of Victorian parlor games. I needed one for the opening of this book and found "Poor Pussy." Strangely enough my magician's wife recalls playing a game called "Pat the Kitty" as a child.

Gathering together for parlor games was popular in the evenings in Victorian families. The central theme of many of them were games involving trying not to laugh. Poor Pussy was one of them. It involved one proper guest having to mill around on all fours amongst the seated company, meowing and stopping in front of someone who then had to say "poor pussy" without ever cracking a smile. Neither the cat or guest could smile. If one of them did the latter was the next cat.

I never recalled playing that as a child but I do remember this...

The Laughing Game where players sat in a circle and one says "ha." The next, "ha-ha" and so on until someone laughed in earnest.

Many games we know today stemmed from Victorian parlor games. Red-Light, Green Light, Simon Says, Charades and Musical Chairs. Hot Potato of today sounds very similar to the game of "Change" where an object was passed in a circle and directions shifted out of the blue.

Hunt the Thimble sounds like great fun. The mistress of the house would hide a tiny object in a room and guests would have to search for it. When they found it, they simply took their seat until one poor person was left still looking for the item.

Victorians seemed to enjoy embarrassing each other...

...or catching each other for that matter. There were many versions of Duck, Duck, Goose then called Wolf and the Lambs.

Memory games such as Grandmother's Trunk were wildly popular (hence the interview with my magician who is a master of Victorian memory games. His website is here: Dr. Wilson ) In this game a player would say "My grandmother has a trunk and in it is.... apples" or some such item beginning with the letter A. Around the room they would go, each guest having to build on this list with a new item with the following letter while remembering and reciting as well all the items before!

Way more fun than Wii? Oui?

Good Times: The Great Exhibition of 1851

By Anita Davison

"It is one of the puzzles of his life that with all his [Albert's] conscientious and admirable work and his really great ability he did not make people like him." ~ Bernard Darwin, 1932

Prince Albert was President of the Committee set up to organise the 1851 Exhibition of the Works of Industry of all Nations in the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, London, from 1 May to 15 October 1851. Designed by Joseph Paxton, the Crystal Palace was constructed in Hyde Park. The first of the 1,060 iron columns went up in the autumn of 1850, together with 300,000 panes of glass fixed with over 200 miles of sash bars. Parts of it were high enough to enclose fully grown elm trees. The whole took less than a year to build and when completed, covered about nine acres. It was felt important at the time to show their achievements right alongside those of "less civilized" countries.

Of the 13,000 exhibits, the most popular were those housed in the machinery court where the possibilities of steam power were on display. It was a triumphant success and so many people visited it that they consumed over a million and a half buns. The initial entrance price of five shillings for the first three weeks attracted what the Times called 'the wealthy and the gently and nobly born'. Thomas Cook organised excursions by rail from Yorkshire, which boomed once the shilling entrance fees were introduced at the end of May, with profits totalling £170,000 which allowed for the foundation of public works such as the Albert Hall, the Science Museum, the National History Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum.

By the closure of the exhibition in October, more than six million people passed through the halls, representing about a fifth of the population of Great Britain at the time. The building was divided into a series of courts depicting the history of art and architecture from ancient Egypt through the Renaissance, as well as exhibits from industry and the natural world. Among them were the Jacquard loom, an envelope machine, tools, kitchen appliances, steel-making displays and a reaping machine from the United States.

Major concerts were held in the Palace's huge arched Centre Transept, which also contained the world's largest organ. This Transept also housed a circus and was the scene of daring feats by world famous acts such as the tightrope walker Blondin. A magnificent series of fountains, comprising almost 12,000 individual jets, the largest of which threw water to a height of 250ft. Some 120,000 gallons of water flowed through the system when it was in full play.

Once the Great Exhibition closed, the Crystal Palace was moved to Sydenham Hill in South London and opened by Queen Victoria on June 10th, 1854. The Crystal Palace was destroyed by fire on November 30th 1936.

An account of a visit to the Exhibition by Charlotte Bronte, 1851.

Yesterday I went for the second time to the Crystal Palace. We remained in it about three hours, and I must say I was more struck with it on this occasion than at my first visit. It is a wonderful place--vast, strange, new and impossible to describe.

Its grandeur does not consist in one thing, but in the unique assemblage of all things. Whatever human industry has created you find there, from the great compartments filled with railway engines and boilers, with mill machinery in full work, with splendid carriages of all kinds, with harness of every description, to the glass-covered and velvet-spread stands loaded with the most gorgeous work of the goldsmith and silversmith, and the carefully guarded caskets full of real diamonds and pearls worth hundreds of thousands of pounds.

It may be called a bazaar or a fair, but it is such a bazaar or fair as Eastern genii might have created. It seems as if only magic could have gathered this mass of wealth from all the ends of the earth--as if none but supernatural hands could have arranged it this, with such a blaze and contrast of colours and marvellous power of effect.

The multitude filling the great aisles seems ruled and subdued by some invisible influence. Amongst the thirty thousand souls that peopled it the day I was there not one loud noise was to be heard, not one irregular movement seen; the living tide rolls on quietly, with a deep hum like the sea heard from the distance.

Source: The Brontes' Life and Letters by Clement Shorter (1907)

Excerpt Thursday: Cat Lindler

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're featuring Medallion Press author Cat Lindler's adventure romance STARLIGHT & PROMISES, set in 1891 Tasmania. How exciting! Please join us on Sunday when Cat will be here to answer questions and give away a signed copy. Here's the blurb:

During a voyage to an uncharted isle in the Furneaux Islands near Tasmania, Lord Richard Colchester finds a living saber-toothed tiger, an animal believed to have been extinct for over ten thousand years. His discovery will astonish the world...that is, if he ever makes it back to England.

When Lady Samantha learns that her Uncle Richard has disappeared under suspicious circumstances, she enlists the help of Professor Christian Badia, a noted zoologist and animal tracker who specializes in wild cats. Not only does she intend to organize the expedition, she plans to join in the treacherous search.

Christian is a hot-tempered man and a notorious recluse, so the last scenario Samantha anticipates is a romantic interlude. But she is drawn unexpectedly into a world of physical passion, and she soon realizes this enigmatic man is her soul mate. When Christian embarks Tasmania abruptly, leaving Samantha behind, she fears she may forever lose her newfound love.

Unable to sit idly by and wait for his return, Samantha launches her own investigation—and finds herself in grave danger. Will Christian find her...before it's too late?

***

"Lindler writes in a smooth style, providing evocative descriptions and compelling historical details as well as a satisfying surprise ending." ~ Publisher's Weekly

"The passionate couple and engrossing storyline will stay in your heart for some time" ~ Romantic Times

***

"Conditions, then. First, you'll pay all the expenses incurred."

"That was my intention."

"Next, Lord Stanbury and I will share authorship on any publications resulting from the expedition."

"I agree," she said, surprised his conditions were so reasonable. "Uncle Richard should have no difficulty with coauthorship." The tension lifted from her shoulders.

He grinned like the hare confronting the tortoise prior to the race, his teeth flashing in his tanned face. "Fine. Now for the difficult one. This is to be my expedition. I'll take sole charge, make all the plans, and give all the orders." When she started to speak, he cut her off. "I'll brook no opposition on this. I'm familiar with that part of the world. It's primitive and dangerous, infested with sea pirates, criminals, headhunters, and cannibals. In assuming responsibility for the expedition's safety, I'll tolerate no interference or challenges to my authority."

She controlled her voice with difficulty. "I understand. I realize you have the superior experience. I shall follow your orders." Surely that could not be too difficult. Step here; do not step there; hide behind this tree…

"You had better. You can travel with us to Tasmania. I have friends there who run a respectable boardinghouse. I'll send reports to you when I can."

"No!" She jumped up, and her cup of tea went flying. It splashed across his breeches. "You go too far. I must go to the island with you."

He stood just as abruptly, cursed, pulled himself up to his full height. His cup dropped on the side table with a clatter. The liquid remaining in the cup sloshed out and spilled onto the table. With a handkerchief drawn from his coat, he brushed at the scalding tea on his leg. "You will not!"

"I will!"

His eyes narrowed, darkened. "Not!"

"How will you find the island without me?"

"You will inform me of its location before we reach Tasmania."

Her mouth quirked into a wide smile. Slowly and distinctly, she said, "No…I…will…not."

"Damn it, Sam," he said on an explosive breath. He threw the soaked handkerchief to the floor. "Have you any notion of what you're saying?" Raking a hand through his hair, disheveling it, he stalked away, pacing across the room, his large form seeming to dwarf the space. "The South Seas are treacherous enough for armed men, much less pampered society ladies. I've already mentioned the unsavory human elements we will meet: not might, but . In all likelihood, we'll encounter spiders the size of dinner plates and centipedes over a foot long, whose bite can cause your arm or leg to swell to four times its normal size." He paused, skewering her with his gaze. "Snakes, too. Have you ever heard of the two-step viper?"

"No, but it sounds interesting. What color is it?"

"What color is it?" he sputtered, rumpling his hair again. "This is no joking matter. Its venom is lethal, killing before the victim can take two steps. Even the plants, deceptively beautiful, harbor poisonous spines or sap that strips skin from flesh. And were that not enough, the men I hire will be no gentlemen. You would have no privacy. I cannot afford to make a mistake and risk lives because I'm distracted by playing nurse to you."

Samantha returned his stare. "I have no need of a nurse. I'm far from being a child. I have no fear of your flesh-stripping plants nor two-stepping snakes and headhunting cannibals. I'm not a helpless, pampered female, but a modern woman. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself in any situation. In fact, I have a reputation as a well-respected amateur herpetologist. I accompanied Uncle Richard on many such expeditions." Her conscience thumped her a bit at the lies. Small lies, but lies nonetheless. "I will not give you the island's location. I shall obey you in all else, but I must go with you. This is my expedition. I have to find Uncle Richard."