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Author: Bluestocking Belles Page 7 of 34

Outrageous Rescue

Well now, isn’t this just a delicious tidbit for you all:

A rival newspaper, the Trumpeter no less, is reporting that one Miss Somerset Sinclair, a member of that wildly outrageous family who constantly flaunts society’s rules, has recklessly stepped in to save a man from certain injury, if not death.

The event took place as she was walking, alone I might add, to visit Lolly’s bookstore late one afternoon. Professor Cole Alexander Gusford Charlton was unaware of his impending doom when Miss Sinclair flew at him. Onlookers have reported her diving at the poor man, wrapping her arms around his waist and propelling him backward with some force. He came to rest with a thud against a sturdy wall. With Miss Sinclair still pressed to his body, a chimney pot then crashed to the ground a mere few inches away.

While her behavior was indeed scandalous, one cannot help but commend her for her fast thinking, even if her ankles were seen by everyone who witnessed the event. I’m also happy to report that both parties were unharmed.

As you know, four out of the seven Sinclair siblings are all wed, and not only that, each is married to someone sharing the Duke of Raven’s blood. I’m not one to gossip, but this strikes me as an odd anomaly, which is added to by the fact they all live on the same London street. I must, in good conscience, tell you that the Sinclair and Raven families are a very unusual group of people.

News has just reached us that in fact Professor Charlton is the Duke of Raven’s cousin. One wonders what is in store for him in the coming months.

About the Book: Courting Danger

If only he’d taken more care, she wouldn’t be facing her destiny.

Somerset Sinclair vows not to follow in her elder siblings’ footsteps. There will be no marriages or daring rescues of any man carrying Raven blood. Somer has a career, and nothing is about to thwart that.

Sinclair Investigative Services is flourishing.

Everything was going to plan until Professor Cole Alexander Gusford Charlton foolishly stood under a chimney pot. Now there’s an arrogant, handsome man making her heart beat a little faster. A man of Raven blood whose life she saved, and who irritates her into irrational behavior.

Somer is determined to break the pact that bound her family to his. Her heart would remain intact, no matter how hard it was becoming to keep her distance from the professor.

Gus had one passion, his studies. A highly sought-after scholar, he had no room in his life for a woman as infuriatingly opinionated as Somerset Sinclair. She calls him stuffy and refuses to show him the respect he deserves.

Yes, she’d saved his life, but he’d thanked her for that. Now he must forget her and her strange family, and his life will return to normal.

The problem is she has an unusual occupation that throws her headlong into trouble and no one appears worried about that, except him.

When Somer’s investigations turn deadly and the threat to her life real, Gus knows his dreams of an uneventful scholarly existence are in fact empty without her in them. He will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. But will Somer fight her destiny or realize that life would be empty without Gus at her side and in her heart.

 

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B099P9C8PQ

Excerpt~

She felt his thudding heart as it matched her own. Strong thighs pressed into her, and the muscled planes of his chest and belly.

“R-Release me.” Somer’s voice was wobbly. “Please.”

He looked behind him, then eased back and away, and Somer tried to breathe. Tried to still the racing of her heart. No man but family had held her like that.

“Are you all right?” His voice was a growl and reminded her of Max when gripped by strong emotions.

“Y-Yes, thank you.”

He was taller this close, and bigger. His shoulders were wide beneath the black of his overcoat. His eyes were gray, darker than James’s, but lighter than Emily’s. Nice eyes, she thought, and what he should use to look where he was going. They were set in an equally pleasing face. Wide cheekbones, a chin that she thought looked stubborn, dark brows and lashes. His skin was tanned, which suggested he did not frequent society, as it was not done to have such coloring. His hair was too long, past his collar, and deep sable brown. Handsome. The little jab of excitement in the pit of her stomach told Somer he was a man worthy of a second look. Not that she’d be looking. There was no time in her life for men.

She drew in another steady breath.

“If I may suggest, sir,” Somer said in a tone that would cut glass, “you need to be more aware when walking through streets filled with people and obstacles, because next time I may not be on hand to save you from a chimney pot knocking you senseless!”

“I have had no trouble until now,” he said, his eyes steady on her face.

“And yet had I not intervened you would be nursing a serious headache or a great deal worse.”

His eyes moved to the shattered pieces of chimney pot.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“You are bleeding.” Somer pulled out her handkerchief and stepped toward him to place it on his cheek.

“’Tis nothing.” He brushed her hand aside and blotted it with the sleeve of his coat.

“Well then,” Somer snapped. She did not like feeling anything but in complete control, and yet right in that moment she was unsettled. He’d held her, and being close to him had made butterflies form in her belly.

Decidedly odd.

“Well then?” He raised a dark brow.

“Say thank you.”

His smile was small but did several disturbing things to his already handsome face. He was looking at her as if she was amusing. A woman and therefore not terribly intelligent, but worth a smile. She’d been the recipient of that look many times in her life and had to say she was still far from impressed by it.

He was dressed as a gentleman of means, Somer thought, eyeing his well-fitted deep-blue jacket and gray trousers beneath the overcoat. The only bright color was from the fine silver stripe in his waistcoat.

He suddenly swept off his hat, then bowed.

“You have my undying gratitude, madam.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Somer frowned. She’d cut her eye teeth on sarcasm, it was a communication tool in her family, but she did not expect it from a man whose life she’d just saved. “Because if it is, I think that’s exceedingly shabby, as I just rescued you from a hideous headache or death. Either deserves a great deal more gratitude.”

Rather than being angry, he looked intrigued.

Somerset Sinclair vows not to follow in her elder siblings’ footsteps. There will be no marriages or daring rescues of any man carrying Raven blood. Somer has a career, and nothing is about to thwart that.

From USA Today Bestseller Wendy Vella comes an exciting Regency series about legend, love and destiny, with a hint of magic …

Amazon

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Church Lady’s Lament

To Reverend Mr. Horace Sorsby, Vicar of Saint John the Evangelist Parish, Knaresborough

Sir:

Reluctant though I am to criticize church matters, I truly must speak up, and hope my frequent liberal contributions to your parish will gain me attention. As you know age and infirmity make it impossible for me to attend services in Knaresborough. While I am pleased that a chapel of ease has been set up here in Harrogate for the benefit of leading citizens like myself who find themselves hampered from full participation, the man assigned  it has failed us. I am compelled to report that the curate you appointed to serve my our needs has proven to be negligent and useless.

First of all, his sermons focus entirely too heavily on service due the poor, in my opinion, and too little on the respect the lower classes owe their betters. I suppose I must excuse this as he is young and does seem to have a grasp on scripture.

I excuse it mainly because I am rarely able to attend even the chapel of ease here. That curate, Mr. Eustace Clarke, has been repeatedly asked to attend me at home. We are now moving into December, and I am obliged to report he made but two visits since summer. Neither visit lasted longer than an hour. I ask, Mr. Sorsby, do you believe that shows sufficient care for a frail old woman, one I might add who has generously supported Saint John in the past?

I am quite, quite distressed to add that my precious Wellington, an extraordinarily noble pug, has taken him dislike as well. The impudent young man accused my darling Welly of damaging his boots. I cannot believe poor Welly has developed a taste for leather. He has demonstrated no such affinity in the past. I am certain Mr. Clarke enticed him as an excuse to make a quick departure.

My loyal butler reports that it appears Mr. Clarke persists in wasting his time with that pathetic little soup kitchen he calls Pilgrim’s Rest, feeding every lazy, worthless beggar that imbibes from Harrogate’s public springs but refuses to pay for his lunch. Now news has reached me that he believes he needs funds to repair the roof of that barn. I will not stand for it. I demand you order him to close that fruitless and unproductive little mission down and focus on those of us who support the parish at large as he ought.

If my words have not been enough to convince you the man needs sharp words from his superior there is this. My personal maid, a woman of fine character, has told me that he is now seen walking out with a woman employed in the kitchens of the The Hampton Hotel. What such a woman is doing sporting about town on the arm of a single man, I can only guess. The hussy’s name I’m told is Doro Bigglesworth.

I trust you will counsel your curate about proper behavior and duties. I would hate to take my contributions and charity elsewhere.

With Respect,

Lady Louella Spotsworthy

About the Book: Desperate Daughters

Love Against the Odds

The Earl of Seahaven desperately wanted a son and heir but died leaving nine daughters and a fifth wife. Cruelly turned out by the new earl, they live hand-to-mouth in a small cottage.

The young dowager Countess’s one regret is that she cannot give Seahaven’s dear girls a chance at happiness.

When a cousin offers the use of her townhouse in York during the season, the Countess rallies her stepdaughters.

They will pool their resources so that the youngest marriageable daughters might make successful matches, thereby saving them all.

So start their adventures in York, amid a whirl of balls, lectures, and al fresco picnics. Is it possible each of them might find love by the time the York horse races bring the season to a close.

Among them?  “Lady Dorothea’s Curate,” by Caroline Warfield

Employed at a hotel in order to assist her stepmother, Lady Dorothea Bigglesworth had no use for a title. It would only invite scorn, or, worse, pity. Plain Miss Doro Bigglesworth suited her fine.

Ben Clarke dedicated his life to helping the neediest. It gave his life meaning. He tended to forget the younger son of a viscount went by “Honorable.”

Working together at Pilgrim’s Rest, neither saw the need to mention it to the other, before fate separated them. When they were formally introduced after an unexpected reunion— in a ballroom in York—shock rocked them both. Can their budding love survive?

You can find links to various vendors here: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/desperate-daughters/

 

Vigilante among the Ton?

Every day in London’s streets, women of all ilk sell their bodies to earn enough to live and survive. Prostitution is no secret; it is a thriving business. Like all businesses, there are those who profit and those who toil. Equally so, every year in the glittering ballrooms of the marriage mart, young women are sold to the highest bidder for money and power. Here also, there are those who profit from the bodies and lives of their women.

So, it may come as no surprise that London has a new hero from this set. A vigilante who rescues young girls who have become tangled in the web of sex and excesses. She rescued a young girl from a prominent brothel run by Mrs. G two weeks ago. Brandishing her slim deadly blade, she snatched away the girl who had been sold to the brothel owner by her drunk of a father.

Then our vigilante struck again last weekend at an infamous bacchanal, which is thrown annually by Lord D. Yes, all the rumors you have heard are true. The party is as debauched as Lord D’s dark heart. Free-flowing wine and liquor, and anonymity provided by the masks fuel an atmosphere of immoral behavior. This night of excess was topped off by an auction, where the highest bidder would get to deflower a genuine virgin.

Don’t worry, dear reader, our vigilante swooped in and rescued the poor farm girl, stolen from her family by Mrs. G to serve as the virgin sacrifice. Yes, our vigilante is no ordinary woman. She is fearless, passionate, a LADY of great heart. I will wait alongside you, breathlessly, to see where she will strike next.

About the Book: Unmask My Heart

Caroline Langdon has gained a reputation for being unattainable; she has turned down twelve offers of marriage over the past four years. A traumatic incident from her past has convinced her she never wants to belong to any man. Her plan to live as a wealthy spinster is tested when she meets the enigmatic Lord Wrotham.

For his new assignment for the crown, Cage Morgan must slip into the one role he’s never wanted, his title as the Earl of Wrotham. Lady Caroline is in grave danger. His job is to watch over her and investigate which of her jilted suitors wants her dead. But keeping tabs on the clever and fiery lady will prove to be challenging. And ignoring the attraction that flares between them impossible.

Will a daring rescue and a fake engagement lead two guarded hearts to take a risk on a passionate love neither of them thought imaginable?

 Excerpt:

“You can never trust a newspaperman.” Cage commented.

“Well, in this case, because the editor is a woman, I thought I could.” Clearly a mistake. Of course, a woman whose paper survives on its gossip column would choose the most sensational bits. Caroline grudgingly admired the editor’s cleverness. She glanced down at the article in her hand. “She does paint a flattering picture of me. Fierce and passionate. I almost wish people knew she was talking about me.” She took another swallow of wine. “I am tired of everyone talking behind my back about being an ice queen. I’m not frigid,” she muttered.

“Who had the gall to say you were frigid?”

Caroline couldn’t believe she had said that out loud. Her cheeks warmed and not because of the wine. He was the one man who made her feel the opposite of frigid. He made her want things that she had given up ever feeling again. She set down her empty wine glass on the windowsill.

Cage took one finger and lifted her chin until her gaze met his. “You are the most passionate woman I have ever known. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a blind fool.” The heat in his eyes almost had her believing his statement. He lowered his mouth to hers, brushing her lips once, twice.

Caroline sighed at the pleasure of his kiss. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Nibbling at her bottom lip, he pulled her under his spell. She parted her lips to welcome his exploration. His tongue swept in to play with hers, slick and hot. She grabbed hold of the lapels of his jacket as the world around them melted away.

“Caroline, your fire consumes me.” He kissed across her cheek and up to her temple. “You haunt my nights. I want to discover every inch of you with my tongue, my lips. I want you to burn me alive.”

His words emboldened her. Caroline slid her hand into his hair and pulled his head back enough for their eyes to meet. “Show me.”

About the Author

From the time she read fairytales as a child, Karla Kratovil was hooked on stories that ended in Happily Ever After. Now as an author of sexy historical romance she gets to craft her own happy endings. Karla lives right on the edge of Northern Virginia’s wine country with her college sweetheart, two terrific teenagers, and two blond terriers. She is a Taurus. Like any good earth sign she loves good food, good wine, and getting her hands dirty growing things in her garden.

To keep in touch, sign up for her newsletter on her website – www.karlakratovil.com

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Damsels in Distress Take York by Storm — Love Against the Odds?

The women who call themselves the Bluestocking Belles are at it again, Sam — invading another set of lives and writing a series of tell-all stories. And people call the Tattler a scandal rag!

This one will be out next year, but I should be able to scrape a few details from the Belles and their friends before then. This year, Meara Platt, Ella Quinn, Mary Lancaster, and Alina K. Field have joined the Belles for the collection.

So far, what I’ve discovered is that all the stories are about one family and their connections.

You may remember the jokes and gossip a few years back when the Earl of Seahaven took his fifth bride, and her young enough to be his granddaughter? And a baker’s daughter, at that. Then he died before the first year was out. All jokes about stamina and demanding young brides aside, it was a terrible thing for the girl, especially when the child she was carrying at the time was not the Earl’s longed-for son, but a ninth daughter.

The new earl, a distant cousin, decided that he had no responsibility for the upkeep of ten females. The dowager countess was left to her own devices, with her own baby girl and eight step-daughters.

That was three years ago, more or less. The latest news will be in the Bluestocking Belles’ new collection of stories. Apparently, the ladies have managed to somehow afford a York Season! There’ll be more than the races to amuse the Polite World this year. It’ll be intriguing to see how many suitors are willing to take on a bride with a very small dowry and a whole platoon of sisters.

I’ll be digging around some more, Sam, and I’ll certainly let you know what I find out.

Oh! And the collection is called Desperate Daughters. Catchy title, that, and it says it all, really. This should be a lot of fun!

***

Read more about Desperate Daughters and preorder here.

Rival Authors Clash At Sommer-by-the-Sea

Expressly for The Teatime Tattler

The Teatime Tattler has just confirmed that Lady Alicia Hartley has arrived in Sommer-by-the-Sea and will be reading from her new novel, The Lost Dowry at Mrs. Miller’s Circulating Library. Many of us have long waited for this her fifth book. I must tell you some doubted Lady Alicia would travel to the village in the horrid winter weather, but also in light of her novels recent review posted in the London Gazette. It was a blatant attack on Lady Alicia’s writing expertise. You would think the acclaim (and sales) of the other novels in this series would indicate the prowess of this amazing author.

Who is the reviewer who tarnishes her reputation and then hides behind the name Anonymous.  To add insult to injury, this reviewer has the audacity to spend half the review comparing Lady Alicia’s work to another author.

This would all be just a literary issue, but I am here to tell you we must rally behind our girl. I have it from a very reliable source that Lady Alicia is not the only author who will be reading on at the circulating library. No, my dear friends. The other author mentioned in the review will be attending as well.

Will there be sparks? One can only hope. Mrs. Miller has scheduled the reading for Tuesday at 4:00. I, for one, will be there.

The Lady and Her Quill

Her mind kept telling her to stop loving him, but her heart couldn’t let him go.

Renowned author Lady Alicia Hartley has lost her muse after a bad review. She blames it all on the author JC Melrose. A chance encounter with a handsome, witty Justin Caulfield has her heart racing, and her muse seemingly back. Is he her savior or her worst nightmare?

He didn’t see the turbulent ocean. He was too busy dealing with a different tempest.

The recently retired Captain Justin Caulfield is facing his own demons. As gifted author JC Melrose, his stories honor men who died at the hand of one man. His only focus is to avenge their deaths, that is, until he meets and falls in love with Lady Alicia.

The two authors take on a writing challenge based on a story of stolen gold taken from the newspaper headlines all to determine the better writer. While researching the story, Lady Alicia is captured by the thieves’ ringleader. Can Lady Alicia turn this mystery into an award-winning story? Can Justin save his real-life heroine? Can they both overcome their own challenges for a happily ever after?

Available at Amazon Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt

Alicia looked at the women. They had all been close ever since they were Mrs. Bainbridge’s charges and remained that way long after graduating. This was the one place they were themselves without reproach or censure.

“Tea, if I may. Ladies, nothing pleases me more than your concern and friendship. My sister and her husband had to leave without me. I had work to do in London. When I was ready to leave, the weather stopped the passenger coaches, and I missed the mail coach. That is the reason for my unplanned sea voyage.” With her hands now warm, well, at least she was able to flex her fingers, she turned and faced them.

“That is all very distressing,” Anna said.

“I would be happy if that were all, but it’s obvious I also have an enemy.” She took the cup of tea from Mrs. Bainbridge and sat next to Pat who ate a small cake with butter icing.

“Enemy. What happened?” Her friends stopped with whatever they were fussing and were abuzz with questions.

Alicia removed a scrap of paper from her reticule and handed it to Anna. “Read it if you like. The last paragraph is most insulting.”

Anna read the article aloud. Alicia stared at nothing in particular. The words didn’t sound any better when someone else read them.

“This last paragraph isn’t terrible.” Anna handed the paper to Effie who wiped cake crumbs off her fingers on the linen before she took the scrap.

“Anonymous ended my review talking about another author.” Alicia swirled her spoon in her teacup tapping the sides in a frantic rhythmic beat.

“Be careful, dear. You’ll crack the china,” Mrs. Bainbridge said.

Alicia stopped mid-stir. Removed the spoon. And put it to the side.

“You don’t take constructive criticism well,” Pat said picking crumbs off her plate and eating them. “That’s all this is. Your heroine was brave and her hero daring. The story was deeply romantic.”

“Pat.” Effie covered her friend’s hand with her own. “Ever since you met George everything to you is romantic.”

Pat smiled as Effie took another bit of cake. “Everything George does is…romantic.”

Alicia coughed, choking on her tea.

“Oh, my. Are you all right?” Pat asked, pounding Alicia on her back.

“You’re so wicked, Pat,” Anna said.

“Just taking a lesson from Alicia’s heroine.” The devilish glow in Pat’s eyes could not be missed. “I thought that dialogue was good when I read it. Is it plagiarism if you quote dialogue from a story?”

Alicia shook her head, a large smile on her face.

“Do you have any idea who wrote the review?” Mrs. Bainbridge asked.

“Not at all.” Alicia took another sip of tea. Her insides were warming.

“Is the reviewer possibly another author?” Hattie asked.

“I haven’t given it much thought.” Alicia stared at Hattie over her teacup.

Hattie took the article. She opened a wooden box that hung on the wall exposing a dart board and pinned the newspaper in the center. She removed three darts from their case.

“Your turn.” Hattie offered her the white darts, Alicia’s favorites. “I made sure the word ‘anonymous’ is in the center.”

Alicia put down her cup and took the darts, stood a good distance from the board and aimed. The dart board was a relic from the previous owner of the house. Mrs. Bainbridge encouraged her girls to take aim at their problems, literally and figuratively. If questioned about the dart board’s use, the appropriate response was the girls were building their hand-eye coordination.

Of course, she’d given thought to anonymous’ identity. She’d been thinking about who the critic was ever since she read the review.

She let loose her first dart. It hit the capital A in anonymous.

Excited to hand in her new manuscript to Caulfield, she hardly tasted her breakfast. There was enough time for her to deliver her story and be back in time to leave with her sister and family for the journey here. Everything was going well until she stepped inside Caulfield Publishing.

As soon as she walked into his office, she knew something was wrong. The man was not neat, but the disarray was beyond the pale. She noticed the review when she handed him the paper.

She took aim and let the second dart fly. This one landed on the next letter, n.

Reviews like this are…not unusual. I’ve happily published your little stories. Keep in mind, you can’t please every reader.”

He wants to put off publishing her next book until the summer. Based on one review. One review. How could he?

She didn’t take time to aim the last dart. As fast as she lifted it, she let it loose. It nested with her other two. Alicia removed the darts, returned them to their case and closed the board, but not before she removed the article. Alicia handed the scrap of paper to Hattie.

“No, you keep it.” Hattie waved her away. “Put holes in his review just as you did in the paper it is printed on.”

She returned to her seat and took another sip of tea feeling much better.

“Thank you, Hattie. I feel like myself again.”

Mr. Caulfield wasn’t at all pleased when she told him she had yet to decide if she was going to submit her next book to him. She should have told him then and there about the letter from William Lane.

She stayed in London for two days after Beatrice and Elkington left going through every word of The Lost Dowry trying to make sense of the reviewer’s comments. Her heroine didn’t have to be the only one to succeed. The hero could have been more… heroic. She stared off into the room.

What made her expect to succeed? Anonymous certainly didn’t think she should.

“Alicia, are you listening to me?” Effie asked.

“Obviously not. She’s off in her world planning another great adventure,” Anna said.

Alicia put her cup on the small table next to the chair.

“Of course. I’m listening.”

“Have you read any of J. C. Melrose’s stories?”

The mere mention of the author’s name made her blood boil. To think her closest friend would suggest such a thing. Alicia got to her feet so fast she nearly knocked Effie over.

“Traitor.”

Effie grabbed her arm before Alicia walked away.

“No. Listen to me. You remember when Mr. Lindsay was teaching us about the Romans and why they were so successful?” Effie said with quiet yet determined firmness.

Alicia stopped a bit confused.

“Romans? What are you after? I could care less about the Romans at the moment.”

Alicia stared at her friend, waiting for her to finish her thought. How was this line of thinking relevant?

“Know your enemy,” Anna said from across the room.

“Precisely.” Effie’s face filled with triumph. “Why did this reviewer who was too much of a coward to take credit for his work, make the comment? The way you find out is by reading J. C. Melrose’s story.”

Effie’s idea was worthy. Alicia lowered herself back into her chair. More than worthy. 

About the Author

There was never a time when USA Today Bestseller, RUTH A. CASIE hasn’t had a story in her head. When she was little, she and her older sister would dress up and act out the ones Ruth created. Today, Ruth writes exciting and beautifully told legendary historical romances, medieval, Regency, time travel, and contemporary romantic suspense that are both rich and engaging. Her stories feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. Her stories are full of, ‘edge of your seat’ suspense, mind-boggling drama, and a forever-after romance.

She lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at an international bank where she was a vice president in a product/ marketing manager role, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. Ruth hopes her stories become your favorite adventures.

Where You Can Find Ruth:

At her website:  https://ruthacasie.com/

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