Category: Teatime Tattler Page 148 of 157

Shipwreck All of London has read about the HMS Delphine, the naval ship grounded off the coast of Cornwall a few weeks ago carrying the contract for steel from France. The Delphine’s captain James Dunham is currently under investigation for the ship’s loss, the proceedings have entertained all since the inquiry started.

Such a vital income needed to help recover the country’s finances after the war with Napoleon going missing is a disaster. He claims it was the navigator’s fault, of course. Since none of the officers survived the night after most the crew left in the nighttime grounding, it’s only his word, of course. Being found on the shore stabbed is all that has saved him so far.

The scandal rushing through London of late is nothing to the real story. I have it on the best authority from the captain’s own aunt, Mrs. Belle Quinn, the most well-known of matchmakers in London, there for a house party. The gossip running through the house in the midst of Captain Dunham fighting for his good name and career is he was forced to marry Miss Balaton who saved him from the sea. They were caught in the most delicate of positions which, of course, meant he was unable to form an attachment to any of the other ladies of the house party who were far more suitable.

What else would a shopkeepers’ daughter on St. Michael’s Mount do when presented with a ship’s captain on her front door? Despite the captains’ good friend Mr. Sinclair arriving with his wife and they became such good friends, Mrs. Quinn is certain he regrets the marriage. Why else would he throw Mrs. Quinn out of the house?

Granted, another rumor leaving the house in the last few days is Mr. Sinclair is actually the Duke of Cairnmuir traveling incognito as he visited his friend to try and fix the court martial proceedings. After all, he was the one that secured the contract with the French and sent Captain Dunham back with it to England as he finished his honeymoon to the charming Mrs. Rose Beaufort, as she was. As it was a secret mission, there might be far more politics involved than marriage mart gossip, Mrs. Quinn intimates.

Captain Dunham is after all a well decorated naval officer, running with Cochrane in his impressive haul of ships as well as several on his own merits. The Captain made a fortune in his career up until he washed up on the shore of Cornwall.

Overheard at the house party…

“Could I ask you to introduce us?” Mrs. Quinn asked almost immediately. “It seems that my nephew invited a great many people to the ball without asking my opinion on the matter.”

Without asking her opinion in his house. “Mrs. Sinclair, this is Captain Dunham’s aunt, Mrs. Quinn. Mr. Sinclair is an old friend of the Captains.”

Mrs. Quinn fanned herself hastily. “You’re here for a long visit? James hadn’t mentioned you coming.”

“No, we heard he was in London, but he left town before we could see him. He couldn’t imagine us leaving with a ball so soon. Edward sees him so little what with us up in Scotland. We’ve invited them north to stay with us this fall.”

Mrs. Quinn puffed up. “You’ve become great friends in so short a time, Mrs. Sinclair.” She said. Something in the tone spoke everything. Her friendship was put in the wrong person and she knew nothing of her other than gossip.

“Why, Mrs. Quinn, I should not be embarrassed to introduce her to the Duchess of Cairnmuir herself. The Duchess prefers friends who can hold a thought in their heads. Money can’t buy that.”

“You know a Duchess?” Mrs. Quinn gaped.

“Heavens, the Sinclair’s are related to half of the nobility in Scotland. But that birth doesn’t mean they can hold a good conversation.”

Mrs. Quinn turned red and trounced off. It took a moment, but finally Mrs. Sinclair laughed out loud.

“And they say I have a tongue on me. You’re just wicked.” Tanley murmured and Mrs. Sinclair only laughed harder. It wasn’t hard to notice that the woman steered them further out from the house. They were well in the center of the lawn where no one could jump out from any hedges there.

The Sailor’s Wife

The Sailor's Wife Tanley’s boring life on Saint Michael’s Mount gets a lot more complicated when a man is washed up on the beach. With her father dead, the neighbor smuggling, and a knife wound in the man’s shoulder she’s all alone with a whole lot of trouble.

At least she’s not stuck getting rid of a body when he wakes up at long last, but delivering papers for the government to help pay the debt after the war with Napoleon makes the stakes higher than just a little smuggling. Alone with James, though, temptation is hard to resist, if only getting caught didn’t bring up a whole new set of problems.

Buy on Amazon

Meet Jennifer Mueller

As a Peace Corps volunteer in Kenya a few years back, I traveled quite a bit and now I just wish I was. A lot of the places I’ve written about I’ve been to, a lot of them I haven’t. Rafting on the Nile in Uganda, living in a Montana ghost town, African safaris, European youth hostels, the Black Hills of South Dakota all fill my scrapbooks. Now a daughter takes up most of those pages, but I still travel in my head every time I write.

For more by this author visit

http://www.jennifermuellerbooks.com

Fathers and Daughters

By Susana Ellis

On September 4, 2016

In Bluestocking Belles, Regency (19th century Britain), Susana Ellis, Teatime Tattler

12 January 1812

Park Street, Mayfair, London

“Number 14,” announced the hackney driver, pulling up outside a row of neat, brick townhouses, all trimmed in white, fronted in black wrought iron and darkly lit by a handful of lamp posts. George was accustomed to returning home in darkness, but he’d left the office more than an hour earlier than usual and it was already dark. London winters were always dark. There were days when the only light he saw was when he went to the windowed waiting area to greet a client.

Detailed view of a typical british red brick mansion

George tossed a coin to the driver and strode toward the door of his sister’s home, wondering what Eliza needed to discuss with him so urgently. It had to be something to do with Louise, he conjectured. Although he had the impression that his daughter was quite happily settled with her aunt’s family by now. He knew she had bonded with her much-younger cousins and Eliza declared her a delightful addition to the household. So what could have gone wrong?

“Good evening, Mr. Durand. Mrs. Childers is expecting you.”

The butler led him upstairs to Eliza’s sitting room, where he found her at her writing desk. She put down her pen when she saw him and rose to greet him with a fond embrace.

“George! How good of you to come so soon! I hope my scribbled note did not alarm you unnecessarily. Nothing dreadful has occurred, after all. It’s just that I have so many things to do now. My mind is scattered in so many directions since William told me the news.”

“News?” George’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to imagine what sort of news would have sent his generally level-headed sister into such a tizzy.

Eliza twisted her wedding ring on her finger. “William has accepted a new post, George. Quite an honor, really. We are all very proud of him, of course. But to move the entire household to St. Petersburg—if only we had more time. I hardly know where to start!”

George blinked. “You are moving to St. Petersburg?”

“Yes. In a month’s time. Lord Cathcart chose William personally to serve with his staff. He is wanted straight away, but thankfully, William said he would not go on ahead and leave me to make the journey unaccompanied.” She brought a shaky hand to her forehead. “There is so much to do, George. Decisions to make about packing and servants and—”

“—Louise,” finished George. “You needn’t worry about my daughter, Eliza. I shall take her back to St. Albans with me tonight, and her belongings can be sent later.”

“Oh!” Eliza’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to imply that Louise is a burden, George. Not at all. The children love her—we all do—and we would be pleased to take her with us, as part of our family.”

George blinked. They wanted to take his daughter to Russia? Where he wouldn’t see her for years?

“You can’t be serious.”

Eliza took his arm. “But I am, George. We are. And Louise is eager to go. Aux anges, in fact. It will be so good for her, you know, to meet new people, experience other cultures. We will be on the invitation list for the most exclusive balls and receptions—just think how thrilling it will be for her to socialize with dukes and princes!”

George pulled away from his sister. “Have you lost your mind? She’s only fifteen, Eliza! She won’t come out for at least two more years, and besides, I don’t want her to be encouraged to see herself as part of the European aristocracy. Her grandfather’s title was lost at the guillotine, and if it were not for all the false hope instilled in her head by her mother and grandmother, she’d be content with her situation as the daughter of a solicitor.” He began pacing in front of the fireplace.

Eliza sighed. “I know that was a bone of contention between you and Genny for years before she died, but George, Louise is happy with us. We will love and protect her as though she were our own daughter. What will you—a man alone—do for her if she remains? Especially when you spend nearly all waking hours at your place of business?”

What indeed? He hadn’t been much of a father to her, even before the carriage accident that took her mother nearly two years ago. He’d left all that to Genny, and then, to Eliza. But he’d never meant it to be a permanent placement. It was simply a temporary solution that had continued primarily because of his own indecision.

Which ended now. He stopped pacing and straightened his spine. “No.”

He’d hire a governess. Perhaps find a gentlewoman who could be more of a companion of sorts, who would take over the tasks of the mother she no longer had. Louise did have a father, though, and he determined then and there that he would start behaving like a father from that point on.

Because Louise was all he had. Without her, he was alone, and he didn’t really want to be alone.

“She won’t be happy,” warned Eliza.

“Well, well,” said George, unmoved. “I daresay she’ll get over it.”

Does Louise indeed “get over it” as her father predicts? To find out, you’ll have to read Valuing Vanessa, Book 2 of The Hertfordshire Hoydens, which will appear in the Bluestocking Belles’ 2016 holiday anthology, Holly and Hopeful Hearts.

In the meantime, why not read Treasuring Theresa, Book 1 of the series?

About Treasuring Theresa

Theresa Cover Front 200x310 WEB Lady Theresa despises London society. What’s worse is that she has to attend the betrothal ball of the young man she expected to marry. To deflect all the pitiful glances from the other guests, she makes a play for the most striking gentleman there—who happens to be her Cousin Damian, who is everything she despises.

Damian, Lord Clinton sees a desperate young lady with no social graces, and it solidifies his opinion that country folk are beneath him. But it so happens that he is the heir to that young lady’s father’s title and estate, and the time comes when he finds himself obliged to spend some time there.

Thrown together, both Damian and Theresa discover each other’s hidden depths. But are their differences too much to overcome to make a successful match?

Amazon • iBooks • Kobo • Nook

About the Author

Susana has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. Voracious reading led to a passion for writing, and her fascination with romance and people of the past landed her firmly in the field of historical romance.

A teacher in her former life, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and central Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

Wedding bells? Or something worse?

By Guest author

On August 31, 2016

In Guest author, Teatime Tattler

7a275d8dc14811af603247b8bfc01daa Sister,
I trust you are well and the boys have recovered from the fever they acquired at Lady Slone’s house party. I was pleased to hear it was nothing more serious. The Slone’s governess should be put out on the street for allowing the children to play when she knew their little Fredrick felt ill. Disgusting the quality of help these days.

Father has some news, but I must address my news first, as it is of much more import.

You may have already heard that Lady Harrington left London recently with an unknown Frenchman much her junior. Well, I have discovered he is not her consort as suspected, but a friend of her daughter’s, lately in Paris. Lady Mallory has returned from France all a-flutter. Seems Miss Adella Harrington left her care in the middle of the night without notice or explanation. As you know, Lady Mallory is my particular friend and I share this news with you in complete confidence as she shared it with me.

The Frenchman has been identified as Duc François Armistead, a finely dressed gentleman who is close friends with you-know-who. He courted Miss H. for much of their trip and it was thought he would propose marriage. He was suddenly whisked away to the country by his father. When he returned to Paris, he was livid at Miss H.’s absence and followed her to England, for the purpose we suppose to ask for her hand. Meanwhile, Lord Harrington seems to have received Miss Adella at his country estate in Northumberland and calls for Lady Mallory’s head.

Lord Harrington’s manservant of the worst kind accosted her first in the streets of Paris and now in London to demand she answer to Lord Harrington’s claims she left his sister unchaperoned and “in peril” despite her promise to keep her safe. You should have seen Lady Mallory’s pallor when I asked what she supposed Lord Harrington would do to her if Adella had come to harm. She gripped my arm and stared into my eyes as if taken over by some sort of demon.

“I don’t know!” she cried. “I fear the worst.” And then she bid me go so she could retire, her headache coming on with a vengeance.

So I ask you sister, who is this Duc Armistead to Miss Harrington. Are we to hear wedding bells soon, or is it as Lady Mallory intimated…something much worse? And as far as Lord Harrington, do you believe him the devil Lady Mallory fears? Have you ever happened to meet him? I have not had the pleasure, but then I suppose he can’t be any better than his late father.

Speaking of fathers, ours is begging me to relay his gout has come on quite bad and we shall be leaving for Bath by Sunday at latest. Do write me there, you know the address, and please find out whatever you can about this dark Lord Harrington. Is he as grumpy as we are told, or is he just as silly as any of these serious men?

With love to the family,

Your sister.

Find out if Lord Harrington is as evil as Lady Mallory thinks in Lord Harrington’s Lost Doe by Emmy Z. Madrigal.

Lord Harrington’s Lost Doe

Lord Alexander Harrington’s life is rather tame until a shoeless, coatless waif is found wandering his estate with no memory of who she is. Despite his stoicism, Lord Harrington finds himself drawn to the lost girl who he compares to a scared doe. Caring for her illness despite speculation of her mental state, he develops feelings for her.

Is she an escaped lunatic, or simply a lost woman desperately in need of his help? A revelation about his own family’s history with the mental asylum down the road causes him to question his feelings. When a massive fire breaks out on estate grounds, will he lose her forever?

Available now on Amazon.com

Emmy Z. Madrigal is the author of the contemporary romance series Sweet Dreams and the Anime Girl Series. She also writes horror under Emerian Rich. Lord Harrington’s Lost Doe is her first Regency Romance. Find out more at: EmmyZMadrigal.com

Wedding Night Jitters

By Sherry Ewing

On August 27, 2016

In Sherry Ewing, Teatime Tattler

Edmund_Blair_Leighton_-_signing_the_register

Grace, Lady de Courtenay gazed around the room at their wedding guests. Everyone was having a marvelous time and Grace had never been happier. One man, in particular, drew her attention. How could he not? She could hardly believe she was married, let alone to her second cousin. Relation or not, she had always held an affection for him and obviously the feelings had been reciprocated considering they were now man and wife. Her father may have protested that she was too young to wed when Adrian first offered for her, but both her parents knew that the marriage would be advantageous to both families.

Adrian must have felt her stare for he turned from the gentleman he had been speaking with and gave her a smile that spoke a thousand words and more. Her heart fluttered within her chest wondering what was in store for her this evening when the night would finally allow them the privacy of their bedchamber. Her mother had prepared her for the inevitable, but that did not help the nervous knots that formed in the pit of her belly. He is just so handsome, Grace thought, before she became lost in the memory of when his lips touched hers for the very first time. She had known, in that instant, she would be forever lost. Her fate had been sealed the day she happily accepted his offer of marriage.

Grace watched when her husband excused himself and began making his way across the crowded room. He was a gentleman that any lady would be glad to call her own. Tall, broad shouldered, with hair as dark as the midnight skies, along with piercing blue eyes that could rival a clear summer day. This was no idle gentleman of leisure, as his physical appearance would attest, and he was all hers. Grace snapped her fan open and began to wave it before her flushed face. Did the temperature of the room increase the closer he came to her side? Her knees began to buckle with each step he took. She reached for the settee directly behind her until she was able to sit. She could not miss his eyes twinkling mischievously as though he knew her inner most thoughts. The rogue, she pondered, hiding her own grin behind her fan when he at last stood before her.

Admiration painting by Vittorio Reggianini not PD Adrian leaned over to pull out one of the pristine white roses in a nearby vase before sitting down next to her. He traced the petals of the flower across her cheek. She shivered, but it had nothing to do with being chilled. No, far from it. She was burning with a need that only her husband could satisfy. His lips replaced the rose and she wished with all her might that their wedding supper was at an end so her husband could put her out of her misery.

“I missed you,” he whispered huskily in her ear.

She gave a light laugh, snapped her fan shut, and playfully tapped his arm with it. “I was hardly far, my love.”

“You were much too far for my liking, my dearest. If I could, I would keep you ever close to my side.”

“That would certainly give society something to talk about in the morning,” she replied wishing for nothing more than to be alone with him, especially when he began nibbling at her ear. “Adrian, you must stop. What will people think?”

“They will think that I am madly in love with my beautiful young bride, which, of course, I am,” he declared handing her the flower.

She peered around him to watch several gentlemen frown in their direction. “We are being watched, and it appears they are not pleased with our public display of affection, darling.”

“I do not care what they think. Besides, we are celebrating our union. Maybe they will remember when they were also in a state of wedded bliss,” he answered and then proceeded to kiss her cheek. The sound of louder than average laughter caused Adrian to turn to stare at the crowd, which began to disperse after having been caught staring rudely at the bride and groom. “Why am I suddenly under the impression that people are sniggering behind our backs?”

Several people continued whispering to one another and Grace could only imagine what their conversation entailed. She tugged on her husband’s sleeve and he leaned over to hear her whispered words. “Do not give them the satisfaction of letting them know you are cross.”

“I am not cross.”

“You are frowning.” Grace giggled.

“At least I have you smiling and that is what matters most,” he stated with another warm smile. “You have honored me this day by becoming my wife, Grace.”

He kissed her parted lips, apparently not caring that all of society was watching their every move. Grace sighed in pleasure. “I am the one who is honored, Adrian, but if we can find a way to remain out of the latest edition of the Teatime Tattler it will be a miracle.”

“That gossip rag that is taking all of London by storm? What could they possibly find interesting in the news that we are married, my dear?” Adrian stood to watch their guests again then pulled her to stand beside him. He placed his arm around her for support.

Grace leaned into his embrace taking comfort when his arm tightened around her. “We are the talk of the town, darling. How you do not know this is beyond me. It is not every day that a woman marries a man with exactly the same given and family name as her brother, never mind that he is her second cousin. Let us not even go into the confusion of your title being the same as our family name, so that all that changes with our wedding is that I become Lady de Courtenay instead of Lady Grace de Courtenay.”

Adrian chuckled, apparently amused by the whole situation. “Is that all?”

Grace looked up at his face and laughed. “Well if you do not care that we are being talked about then neither will I. I am sure half the people here already doubt your sanity in marrying an educated woman.”

Adrian’s brow rose at her implication. “They might just learn a thing or two about the advantages of having a woman who speaks her mind as a wife.” He perused the crowd again until a truly wicked gleam entered his eyes.

“I am afraid to ask what you are thinking,” Grace said. He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow.

Adrian only took a few steps before he swooped her up into his arms. “Since we will most likely be in tomorrow’s edition anyway, we might as well give them something to talk about.”

640px-The_Duchess_of_Richmond's_Ball_by_Robert_Alexander_Hillingford He began carrying her from the wedding reception. Before they left, he turned around at the entryway to the ballroom to face their startled guests. He somehow managed a short bow. “Please enjoy the rest of the festivities. Grace and I are in need of…”

Grace muffled a laugh as Adrian left his words lingering in the air. She heard gasps of shock from the ballroom as her husband took the stairs two at a time. Reaching their room, he closed the door to their wedding suite. As Adrian set her down upon her feet, Grace looked forward to finally becoming Adrian’s wife in every sense of the word. In the months to come, she would relive and treasure each and every moment with her husband, after an unforeseen tragedy destroys her world.

This is an original piece and prequel to A Kiss for Charity, a Regency novella within the Bluestocking Belles upcoming box set, Holly and Hopeful Hearts, to be released November 15, 2016.

_DSF0006 Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. A bestselling author, she writes historical & time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. Always wanting to write a novel but busy raising her children, she finally took the plunge in 2008 and wrote her first Regency. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Beau Monde & the Bluestocking Belles. Sherry is currently working on her next novel and when not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. You can learn more about Sherry’s work here on her page with the Bluestocking Belles or on the following social media outlets:

Website & Books
Bookbub
Facebook
Goodreads
Pinterest
Twitter

Sign Me Up!
Newsletter
Street Team

Baron Fishes Girl From the Sea

By Guest author

On August 24, 2016

In Guest author, Teatime Tattler

Hunting through a bundle of medieval manuscripts, recently found stuffing the bottom of a trunk purchased at auction, your faithful editor found the following. Surely the interviewer was a Teatime Tattler columnist, born 600 years before his time?

Yesterday off the shores of Great Yarmouth a Scottish ship went down in a sudden storm. We have learned that, Baron Conlin de Braose of Sandwich, Baron of the Cinque Ports, risked his life as well as his ship and the lives of his crew trying to save his future Scottish bride. But sources tell us his betrothed was not even on the ship and what he fished out of the sea is very interesting indeed. We interviewed the baron’s squire, Toft, to learn more on the horrific situation.

Toft, can you tell us why Lord Conlin de Braose risked his life taking his ship into a storm and what he got from this heroic act?

Aye. I’d be glad to. Lord Conlin as we all call him, thought he was saving his betrothed, Lady Catherine MacEwen from Kirkaldy when the Scottish ship and its crew was lost at sea. But it seems his betrothed wasn’t on the ship after all, although he managed to save two people. One of them happened to be a beautiful young lady named Isobel MacEwen, the betrothed’s cousin . . . and proxy.”

Proxy? So, you’re saying the girl he fished from the sea has been sent to marry him in his betrothed’s stead?

That’s exactly what I’m saying. And if I’m not mistaken, Lord Conlin seems a bit smitten with the girl.

He does? But what about his betrothed? Do tell us more.

His betrothed, Lady Catherine, is known as horse face and Shrew of the Scots, if that answers your question without being too direct. Of course no one’s actually seen the shrew yet, but her reputation precedes her.

I see. I’ve also heard Lady Isobel – the baron’s bounty – has been witness to a murder. Can you tell me who has been murdered and if she’s seen the murderer and can identify him?

The one murdered was King Alexander of Scotland, although it seems someone wants everyone to think it was an accident. And Lady Isobel only saw the feet of the murderer, but can identify people by their shoes and the way they walk.

She can? Isn’t that an odd ability to have?

There’s a good explanation for her unique skill. But it’s not half as odd as what the baron found in her trunk that he also fished from the sea.

BaronsBountyAudio500 To find out more about the mysterious Isobel MacEwen and what she has in the trunk that not only shocked the baron but will surprise you as well, read The Baron’s Bounty, Book 2 of the Barons of the Cinque Ports Series by Elizabeth Rose. The book is also available in paperback and audiobook form.

Excerpt from The Baron’s Bounty:

Isobel ran to the edge of the cliff and peered over just as the moon broke through the clouds once again. She gasped when she saw King Alexander lying on the beach with his neck twisted at an odd angle, obviously broken from the fall. More twigs snapped underfoot, and she heard the sound of someone hurrying through the underbrush – headed in her direction.

baronsbountylogo2500 Her heart beat furiously, and her body shook in fear. The murderer of the king was not going to be in a hurry to be caught. She couldn’t let him see her, or he’d kill her as well. Without her escorts she was unprotected and very vulnerable. She had only a dagger at her side – no match for the broadsword of a knight, or even the strong hands of a crazed serf. She had no choice but to hide in order to save her own life.

She hurried behind a tree and hunkered down behind a bush, not able to believe what she’d just witnessed. She heard the person free the king’s horse and slap it on its rear to send it off. Hoofbeats sounded loudly as the horse ran through the foliage. Leaves crunched underfoot and she heard the killer coming toward her.

Step, Drag, Swish. Step, Drag, Swish, echoed in her brain as she focused on the sound of their footsteps. She couldn’t keep her body from shaking as the murderer walked past her, so close she could have reached out and touched him.

She moved her hand slightly, and a twig snapped beneath her palm. The killer stopped right in front of the bush that concealed her presence. She didn’t dare move or even breathe, for fear the man would hear her and she’d end up at the bottom of the cliff alongside their ruler.

Her eyes fastened onto the man’s feet, and his boots immediately took her interest. She’d never seen any like these before. They were side-laced riding boots that looked to be made of two-toned Cordoba leather. They were of the finest quality, and obviously very expensive since Cordoba leather came all the way from Spain. They were made from the hides of Musoli goats, tawed in alum in a secret method only known to the Moors. That’s what the cordwainer in town had told her. They were good friends since she spent so much time in his shop, and she’d learned everything she could about making shoes. He’d also said this type of leather was brought back by the Crusaders and very expensive. So expensive that cordwainers only made these shoes on special order from nobles who paid dearly for them.

Meet Elizabeth Rose

LizrosesSaug2500 Elizabeth Rose is a bestselling, multi-published author of over 50 books and an amazon all-star. Her books have received rave reviews and The Oracle of Delphi was even featured on the History Channel. She is a native of the Chicago suburbs but a country girl at heart. Married to the same wonderful man for over thirty years, they have two grown sons who inspired Elizabeth to start self-publishing by telling her she couldn’t do it. She is an artist who creates all her own covers as well as her booktrailers. Her books are all available on amazon as ebooks, papaerbacks and some are in audiobook form as well.

The Baron’s Bounty http://www.amazon.com/dp/B015DGNMAK

Website: http://elizabethrosenovels.com

Facebook: Elizabeth Rose – Author (Don’t forget the dash)

Twitter: @ElizRoseNovels

Because history is fun and love is worth working for