We are stepping back into the early Eighties for today’s musical selection, which someone has used to create a great period drama video with loads of dramas represented. There is a”story” reason I selected this song today. However, before I get to that reason, let me give you an update on a couple of upcoming books.
Sossery. “Period Drama – Love Is A Battlefield.” YouTube, YouTube, 6 Oct. 2012, youtu.be/fT67IfffM1w.
- Becoming Entangled:
I have gotten the files uploaded to various digital retailers and one by one, they are putting the book on preorder as I am working on creating the print copy. Release day is scheduled for November 28, 2017. Yes, I did decide to push the date out instead of trying to rush to keep my original date.
One of the things I had to do this week to get this ready was finish writing the “blurb,” aka the book description. Here is how that turned out:
Can she scheme her way out of one betrothal and into another?
Anne de Bourgh wishes to dance until she is dizzy, walk until she is tired, and marry a particular gentleman who causes her heart to skitter and skip and flutter. There is, however, one thing that stands between Anne and her aspirations — her mother.
Nevertheless, when a young lady is determined, things such as a mother’s restraints and a long-standing betrothal are merely impediments to be circumvented.
Practical and cautious, Alistair Pratt is smitten with Anne and has been patiently biding his time until he can make his intentions known. However, with his mother’s desire to see him married increasing, Alistair, when presented with a scandalous plan, throws caution to the wind to secure his love.
But, the course of true love never did run smooth.
When a gentleman with a grudge discovers the lover’s plans, things become tangled and twisted. Will a love that was meant to be find its happy conclusion, or will it end up as only a tale of what could have been?
One more thing about Becoming Entangled — It will be featured in my Austen Authors post this Tuesday (as in tomorrow). I have created some graphics about some of the research I did for this project, and I am including an excerpt and a giveaway with my post.
- Two Days before Christmas: I have reached “the end” of the first draft and have begun working my way through it checking the story and catching a few typos and errors along the way before I send it to my story editor and then start the real detailed editing work. I am still hopeful that this book will be out by December 19th. It’s going to be a busy month!
And that brings me to One Winter’s Eve, the story that has slipped into my writing block of time which was left open by the completion of Two Days before Christmas (TDBC). TDBC hinted at a sequel as I was writing it, and I have decided to explore that idea and see where it takes me. So far, it looks like I have a fight or is that battle on my hands. 😉 Do you see the song title connection? If not, I am pretty sure you will by the end of the last paragraph of this —
AN EXCERPT FROM One Winter’s Eve:
Richard Fitzwilliam alternated patting his gloved hands together and swinging his arms as he walked quickly along one of the garden paths near the house at Netherfield. Slivers of light from the windows spilled out onto the walkway adding to the light the moon shone down through a clear sky. At present, Richard would have preferred looking up and seeing a blanket of clouds instead of the stars that filled the expanse above him with their wavering silver light for as far as he could see. Clouds instead of stars would likely make his trek around the garden a small bit warmer.
“Are you coming in soon,” Darcy said, coming up beside his cousin. “It is cold out here.”
“Is it? I was unaware,” Richard said wryly as he smacked his hands together once again. It was no use, they were refusing to warm no matter how he abused them.
“Georgiana is concerned.”
Richard sighed. “Very well, I will return to the house, but not through the front. I would like to sneak up to my room and warm myself before having to endure any further prattle in the drawing room.”
“They have set up the tables for cards,” Darcy offered.
Richard shrugged. “I suppose I can tolerate a game or two.”
“Mrs. Nichols has mentioned mulled cider.”
“Indeed?” Cider — fresh, mulled, mixed with brandy — nearly anyway a person could think of to prepare and serve it was a favourite of Richard Fitzwilliam.
“I thought that might make your returning to the society of the drawing room more palatable,” Darcy said with a chuckle.
“Now, if there were a gingerbread or two to accompany it,” Richard said with a smile.
Darcy laughed. “I cannot guarantee that. I have not been informed of all the delicacies to be found in the kitchen at Netherfield.”
The two men slipped in the servant’s door and wound their way up the narrow staircase, hugging the wall as closely as they could to allow room for the servants who scurried about their duties.
“You have made it safely to your room,” Darcy said, entering behind his cousin and removing his great coat which he draped it over the chair by the fire.
“You may leave,” Richard said as he tossed his own coat and gloves on the end of his bed.
Darcy scowled at him. “Will you appear below?”
Darcy gathered his coat and moved to the door. “If you do not appear in ten minutes, I will be forced to come extract you from your room myself.”
“I will be down as soon as my fingers and toes thaw.”
“The fire in the drawing room is bigger than the small one you have here.”
“There is no need of a large fire in here until I retire for the night,” Richard retorted.
“Oh, I agree whole-heartedly. I am only pointing out to you the fact that your extremities would grow toasty much more quickly in front of the fire downstairs, especially with a cup of warm cider around which to wrap your fingers.”
“Out,” Richard snapped. “I will be down within ten minutes. Of all the people I thought would understand a man’s need for peace, I would have thought it would be you.”
Darcy stopped halfway through the door and, stepping back into the room he considered his cousin. “Is it Wickham’s presence in the area that has you so on edge?”
Richard shook his head and rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to allow his frustrations to bubble forth in Darcy’s presence. “No. It is that blasted Caroline Bingley! She and her infernal twaddle about…” He flopped into a chair. “Everything!”
“Surely, you can abide a difficult woman for a few days. You have endured far worse on the battlefield, I am certain.”
Richard shrugged but remained sullenly silent. The battlefield was a place of terror to be certain, but not nearly so terrifying as facing one’s heart and denying it its desire. In battle, one simply destroyed the enemy, but in his present circumstances, the enemy must not be destroyed but rather subdued and locked away. Marriage was not for him. He was not the sort of man who wished to leave a wife and children behind, nor did he wish for them to follow him from camp to camp. He knew with each campaign he on which he was sent, there was every likelihood that he would come back maimed if he came back at all. Neither a crippled nor a dead husband were the sorts of husband any woman needed — even Caroline Bingley.
(And so the battle begins)