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A Dollop of Gossip from Lady Ablethorp

(I cannot tell the location of this first hand account, but it is one of the finest stud farms in the kingdom. Oh, the name begins with W!).

Lady Bella teetered into the well-appointed retiring room, lurched for one of the upholstered chairs, and tumbled onto the floor in a flurry of skirts. Her ostrich-feather headdress listed sideways, and with a sloppy hand, she made an adjustment. She giggled.

Lady Ablethorp assisted her into a chair with the maid’s help. “I see you have indulged in Davy’s nitrous gas, Bella.”

“It is quite puzzling.” Bella sniffled.

“Lord Percy insists it is nothing but folderol.”

Lady Bella stared beneath heavy lids. “Oh, it is quite more than that, my dear. I feel so happy and free.”

“Do you,” Lady Ablethorp said with disdain. “Did you see Coleridge while you were sucking that gas from a silk bubble?”

“He was most attentive in assisting me to use Davy’s device,” Lady Bella said.

“I do not doubt it.” Lady Ablethorp harrumphed. “He is reported to be quite the rake, which brings me to my on-dit.”

Lady Bella blinked repeatedly. “A rumor about Coleridge?”

Lady Ablethorp swanned to the mirror. “I doubt you are composed enough to hear it without babbling it everywhere!”

“While that nitrous gas Davy invented is quite pleasurable,” Lady Bella said. “It dissipates swiftly and with no ill effects! You do know, the Prince has used it many times.”

“Perhaps he will go as mad as his father.” Her ladyship fussed with her hair.

“He has not shown a single sign of ill mental health,” Lady Bella said.

“Then why not set your cap for him?” Lady Ablethorp retook her seat.

Lady Bella fidgeted with her headdress. “He is here with Mrs. Fitzherbert, a lost cause. What were you on about Coleridge? His poetry is heavenly, and he often assists Davy, as does his friend Wordsworth.”

“Ah, you see, it has to do with Wordsworth’s wife, Mary, for Coleridge….”

Lady Susannah Lansdowne breezed into the retiring room, and both women rose and curtsied. Lady Susannah answered in kind.

“My dear Lady Susannah,” Lady Ablethorp said. “How lovely you look.”

“Thank you.” Lady Susannah moved to the dresser basin, the maid pouring fresh water into the bowl.

“I hear there is to be an announcement this evening,” Lady Ablethorp said. “One regarding your brother, the Marquess of Ravenscroft, who will be rejoining the military.”

“His lordship will not rejoin,” Lady Susannah said.

“But his grace, the Duke of Wellington, wants—”

“I suspect the duke wishes many things.” Susannah smiled as she washed her hands. “I doubt he always gets what he wishes for.”

Both Lady Ablethorp and Lady Bella gaped.

Lady Susannah departed with a wink as she closed the door.

“Well!” Lady Ablethorp said. “Who can withstand the pressure of the Prince and the Duke, I ask you? As I was saying… Wordsworth is married to Mary, whose sister is Sarah Hutchinson. It is said Coleridge is madly in love with Sara.”

“Unexceptional,” Lady Bella said. “I understand that she is unwed.”

“This is true,” Lady Ablethorp brushed a stray curl from her face. “But it appears Coleridge walked in on Wordsworth and Sara en flagrante.”

Lady Bella startled. “No!”

“Yes!” Lady Ablethorp continued. “They were naked!”

“Shocking!” Lady Bella said. “Yet Wordsworth and Coleridge remain friends?”

“Who knows?” Lady Ablethorp stood and brushed out her skirts. “Both are quite eccentric. Even though my darling Percy says I should not.” Lady Ablethorp tittered. “I will try the gas. Then I will ask Mr. Coleridge the truth of the matter!”

About The Bond:  An impossible choice…

Lady Rosamund Fielding hides a secret so terrible it could ruin her, her family, and Major General Lord Rhys Lansdowne, the man she loves. Rose and Rhys were inseparable in childhood—their friendship the one shining light in Rose’s dark upbringing.

Yet when Rhys proposes, Rose refuses, for he can never know her shameful truth.

Returned from the Napoleonic wars and now the Marquess of Ravenscroft, Rhys is determined to uncover the reason behind Rose’s rejection and win her hand and heart once and for all.

Meanwhile, Rose’s father, Earl Fielding, demands Rose accept Brigadier Viscount Pennworth’s marriage proposal, threatening dire consequences if she does not obey.

Time is of the essence as Rose faces this difficult crossroads, where she is forced to confront past demons and choose a path.

Should she marry Rhys, deceiving him, and forever be branded a liar in his eyes? She cannot.

Wed Pennworth? Never.

Or flee? Away from Rhys, away from her father, and away from all she holds dear.

Rose has faced many dangerous choices in her life. Will this final one destroy her?

Available Now:  Amazon: Everywhere Else:

About Samma Brand:  Award-winning author Vicki Stiefel now also writes as Sanna Brand, whose Regency Romance, THE BOND (The Secret Tales Book 1) launches May 15. Vicki has also written the fantasy romance series, The Made Ones Saga, as well as The Afterworld Chronicles, an urban fantasy series. Her award-winning mystery/thrillers feature homicide counselor Tally Whyte.

Vicki tapped into her love of knitting to produce Chest of Bone The Knit Collection and co-write 10 Secrets of the LaidBack Knitters

After running The Writers Studio with her late husband, William G. Tapply, Vicki taught fiction writing at Clark University.

She is currently working on THE DECEPTION, The Secret Tales Book Two.


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Widow In Gentleman’s Apartment Scandal

The headline grabbed attention if Sam did say so himself. The editor of The Teatime Tattler held up the proof copy to the light, and grinned as he thought of all those papers sold. A respectable widow caught in a gentleman’s rooming house, in bed with a gentleman who was not even the room’s renter. Yes. An excellent story, and with credible witnesses!

He ignored a knock on the door. At this time of night, the newspaper office was shut. Indeed, he’d be off home to bed as soon as he gave the nod to the roll the presses and print tomorrow’s scandalbroth, so that it would be on people’s breakfast tables when they woke.

As he stood to go through to the printery to give the order, a couple of solid thuds made him pause. Then it flew open, and two men marched in. Sam blanched. He had already had a run-in with the Earl of Stanford last year, simply because the presses had printed a couple of caricatures the man objected to. Sam knew the man who snatched the newspaper from his hand, too. Lord Arthur Versey, world traveller, writer, and an even more dangerous man than Stanford.

Versey handed the newspaper to Stanford, who quickly scanned it. “It’s a pack of lies, Rex,” he said to Versey. “It says Regina was at Peach Tree Lane for an assignation with Deffew, and that Ashby tied the scoundrel up and abducted Regina.”

“You are going to have to rewrite that, Clemens,” Versey told Sam.

“I have witnesses to everything that’s in there,” Sam insisted. “And I have witnesses!”

“Any Deffews or Snowdens amongst your witnesses?” Standford demanded. “For they are trying to compromise a lady.”

Sam must have shown the truth in his expression, for Versey growled. “It was them.”

“Not just them,” Sam protested.

“And their friends,” Rex added.

Stanford obviously decided a gentler approach would be more useful. “Look, Clemens, you’re an honest man. Your newspaper told the truth about the persecution against my wife. Here’s your chance to be on the side of the angels again. Rex, tell him what really happened.”


One Perfect Dance

Regina Paddimore puts her dreams of love away with other girlish things when she weds her father’s friend to escape a vile suitor who tries to force a marriage. Sixteen years later, and two years a widow, she seeks a husband who might help her fulfil another dream—to have her own child.

Elijah Ashby escapes his abusive step-family as soon as he comes of age, off to see the world. Letters from his childhood friend Regina are all that connects him to England. Sixteen years later, now a famous travel writer, the news she is a widow brings him home.

Sparks fly between them when they meet again. Regina begins to hope for love as well as babies. Elijah will be happy just to have her at his side. However, Elijah’s stepbrothers are determined to do everything they can—lie, cheat, kidnap, even murder—so that one of them can marry Regina and take her wealth for themselves.

Love and friendship must conquer hatred and spite before Elijah and Regina can be together.

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Excerpt from One Perfect Dance

She unlocked the door, and Lady Kingsley swept inside. Wilson stammered apologies, but Regina waved him off. Her mother was a force of nature.

“Go back to your post,” she told him, and closed the door. If her mother was going to make a fuss, she didn’t want her servants and her son to hear.

She turned to ask her mother to explain her presence, but Lady Kingsley spoke first, to Elijah. “Do I need to ask your intentions towards my daughter, Mr. Ashby?”

“No, Mama,” Regina said. “I am a grown woman, and my actions are my own business.”

Lady Kingsley turned a chair around from the desk to face the bed. “You are right, Regina. I withdraw the question.”

Regina’s indignant response to the lecture she expected died on her tongue, and for a moment, she had nothing to replace it.

“My apologies for not rising, Lady Kingsley,” Elijah said, lifting himself off the pillows enough to bow his head, and then collapsing back with a grimace.

Regina’s mother frowned. “Are you unwell, Mr. Ashby?”

“Elijah was injured last night, fighting off some attackers,” Regina explained. She resumed her seat in the chair next to Elijah’s bed, so they were facing her mother together.

“Last night?” Mother asked. “Then you were with Regina, Mr. Ashby?” She turned a concerned gaze on Regina. “There is gossip about your activities yesterday evening, daughter. I want to know how I can help counter what is being said.”

“What is being said?” Elijah asked.

“That Regina had an assignation with Mr. David Deffew in an apartment in Peach Tree Lane. That you broke in, Mr. Ashby, tied Mr. Deffew up, and threatened to shoot Mr. Deffew if he followed. Mr. Deffew claims that Regina has promised to marry him and is threatening to have you arrested for abducting her.”

That perverted version of the evening’s events had Regina’s eyebrows twitching upward. Elijah, however, laughed. “Does Dilly truly think people will believe that?” he scoffed.

“I do not,” Mother insisted. “I know Regina despises the man, and I believe her to be right in his assessment of his character. But several of Richard Deffew’s friends claim to have seen her coming out of the building with you, Mr. Ashby. Richard Deffew is Mr. Deffew’s nephew.”

“Did those friends mention that Elijah’s servant was with us, and that he and Elijah were half-carrying Geoffrey? I was there because a messenger came to tell me that Geoffrey had been injured in an accident and needed me.”

“Ah!” Lady Kingsley commented. “Another abduction attempt.”

“It was,” Regina agreed. “An unsuccessful one, since Elijah saw me leaving here in a hackney with one of the young men that Geoffrey has been seeing. He came after me. We rescued Geoffrey, who had been drugged, and then Elijah and Fullaby fought off a group of the young men, who attacked us when we left the building.”

“Rex was there too,” Elijah disclosed.

Mother gave a single decisive nod. “Excellent. The pair of you have a witness that Society will accept as credible.”

As opposed to Fullaby and Geoffrey, though to be fair, Geoffrey was not in a condition to be much of a witness.

“Do you happen to know whether Deffew has an apartment in that building?” Elijah asked.

Mother shook her head. “Not to my knowledge. He and his nephew live with Matthew Deffew.”

Ash grinned, the flame of mischief in his eye. “Then Society might put its busy mind to wondering why he was in that building at all, let alone in the condition I saw him.”

Mother raised her eyebrows and inclined her head. “The condition in which you saw him?” she repeated, making a question of it.

Elijah’s grin broadened. “I should tell you that the room to which we were directed, the room in which Geoffrey was being held, was towards the far end of the passage from the stairwell. To reach it, one had to pass a door that had been damaged and loosely propped in the frame, so anyone who looked in that direction would see a man spreadeagled on the bed. He was unclothed and tied by his wrists and ankles to the bed posts.”

Impressive! His statement was entirely true but left out any mention of their altercation with Deffew.

“Unclothed!” Mother repeated. “I take it you recognized this man, Mr. Ashby.”

“I did,” Elijah told her gravely. “It was David Deffew. One wonders how he found himself in that state, in what is, after all, a building full of bachelor apartments. A foolish jape? An assignation gone wrong? Perhaps he was waiting for the owner of the apartment?”

“One prefers not to speculate,” Mother replied, dryly, “but it would be unkind not to permit other people to relish such an interesting insight into the character of the man who has been attempting to coerce my daughter into an unwanted marriage.”

“I thought you might see it that way,” Elijah said, and he and Mama exchanged a smile full of accord.



Death and Farce Among Society’s Leaders! Smelling Salts Necessary!

The scandalous passing of Sir Richard Carmichael rocked all of London several weeks ago. As we reported, whispers of his suicide in the desert sands reached the furthest corners of our nation, and inquiring minds made careful note of the interment of his empty coffin adjacent to the church’s perimeter wall, as if uncertain he should rest, even in spirit, within sanctified grounds. Yet, dear readers, the distress of his appalling death is not the only matter amiss in the Carmichael sphere.

Indeed, it is Sir Richard’s daughter, Miss Phoebe Carmichael, whose actions serve to shock the civilized world. Spied in solitary conversation with the newly-minted Viscount Trelawney, without benefit of chaperone and during her period of mourning, one might add, the heiress further breached Society’s moral underpinnings and standards by engaging in what might only be termed low-behavior. Readers interested in the slew of iniquitous rumors surrounding Miss C will take note of the following, although those with a faint heart are advised to exercise caution before apprehending the extent of the Carmichael’s villainy:

  1. Lord T, in complete disregard of convention, sent offerings of jellied plops colored in the shades of grief to Miss C during the week following her father’s funeral. His attempt to woo the wealthy lioness with Spring’s promise and Winter’s demise is said to have been successful, though I shall leave the reader to imagine the exact nature of how Miss C tumbled to his puffery; and
  2. Lord T thereafter instilled himself at Miss C’s home, disguised as a confectioner. Though the queen’s solicitor has been remarked to be singularly talented at the occupation of sweets, such pursuits remain beneath the ancient title passed to him, nor, indeed, that of any honorable gentleman, and
  3. It begins to appear Sir Richard might not be dead after all, but only the victim of foul play at the hands of the acclaimed society of Assyriologists, Veritas, though all readers of discernment will hold reasonable doubt as to the veracity of these accusations against the credible and enlightened gentlemen, and
  4. Lord T, rumored to be employed in secret with The Office, is embroiled in a scheme to aid Sir Richard in returning to Society, in the hopes he might thereafter wed the man’s daughter. Those who regularly follow this enlightened chronical are aware that the clandestine organization, without official name or fiat, serves the queen directly as her henchmen and act as guardians of the nation.

Are these rumors true? Is Lord T so much more than he appears? Will he gain the hand of the fair maiden? Has he yet ruined her in fact as well as practice? And if Sir Richard lives, will he, in turn, attempt to murder a viscount who led Miss C to such end? There is only one cure for the illicit goings-on: marriage, but will it prove sufficient?

The Teatime Tattler will leave readers to judge for themselves. Meanwhile, we shall keep a close eye upon the couple and await the reading of the banns.

About Primrose & Promises: When Sebastian Edgars, the newly minted Viscount Trelawney, meets the woman of his dreams, the ground shifts beneath his feet. Unfortunately, she has just buried her father and is required to mourn for a year. Though the rules say he cannot court her, he can’t abide her absence, and so he does the only thing he can think to do: he disguises himself as a servant in her home so they might come to know each other better.

Miss Phoebe Carmichael has decided she will never marry. Wealthy and impatient, when she meets Sebastian everything in her calms. He understands her grief and how spring’s promise will lead her back to life again.

As secret organizations and mad Assyriologists battle, the two fall in love. Will their love prove strong enough to overcome societal norms and those set against their union?

Available Now! Amazon

Excerpt: Reggie’s Miss Carmichael sat upon the edge of the brick flooring, a full plate pushed to her side. Unveiled, eyes closed, golden hair trailing behind her crape-draped form in a waterfall of silk, she leaned upon her black-gloved palms and tilted her face toward the sun. The careful knot into which she had earlier pinned her tresses had come undone. Her skirt caught under her leg so a tiny swathe of ankle lay revealed.

Something fierce and primal reached across the space to grab him by the throat as his previous sense of disquiet intensified. Stumbling mid-step, he caught his wobbling plate before it crashed to the stones.

The apricating lioness didn’t appear to notice his tottering footfall. He waited, straightening slowly. When she still didn’t move, he began to rotate, to slink back to the house and leave her to her privacy. Half-turned, he hesitated. If she opened her eyes and caught him vanishing behind a hedge, would she think he had spied upon her like some churl?

Probably. He raised his voice. “Pardon me. Miss Carmichael?”

Yellow eyes, golden eyes, flew open as she sprang straight. The color of those orbs traveled the distance and punched him in the gut. The earth shifted, threatening to throw him flat upon the earth.

It was a mystery how he didn’t fall to his knees.

About the Author: Judy Lynn Ichkhanian invites you to read her latest addition to the Wild Rose Press’s series, “Jelly Beans and Spring Things.” You’ll meet cross-over characters and further explore the world of the “Raised All Wrong” series. Victorian Romance has never been so fun! And if you sign up for the free newsletter at the author’s website, , you’ll receive a free book in the RAW series that further explores the antics of Veritas and the suffering and romance of those in The Office who oppose them.

Scandalous Goings On, Shock Respectable Whitechapel Residents!

Dear Mr. S. Clemens,

I have been a long-time reader of your wonderful column, but I have seldom seen you mention the scandalous events that occur among the inhabitants of East London. It is therefore that I write to report about the shocking case of “The Undertaker’s Daughter.”

Reginald Harkness, Proprietor, Undertaker, and Director of Funeral Services of Harkness and Sons is known as a quiet, respectable, and sober man. A widower who has always been the soul of sympathy and discretion has been much admired for both his skill in undertaking and his fortitude in raising his headstrong daughter, Charlotte.

Residents of the respectable regions of Whitechapel have long imagined that Charlotte Harkness, a spinster already in her middle-twenties, would be a pawn between reputable undertakers, much like a princess forging an alliance between kingdoms. Any day, the vicar of St. Clementia’s was expected to read out the banns proclaiming a betrothal between Charlotte Harkness of Harkness and Sons and one of the many sons that haunt the establishments of Gideon and Danvers or Parsons and Parsons.

Imagine the congregation’s utter shock and titillation when it was discovered that Miss Harkness (who already causes tongues to wag with her insistence on helping her father with his accounts and her constant reading of embalming manuals) already had a suitor! Was it a respectable Whitechapel lad? No! It was one Dr. James Everly, a well-to-do physician studying at the Royal College of Surgeons, and a not-too-distant cousin of minor aristocracy! Not only does Dr. Everly have a pretty penny to his name, but he also comes from the perfumed streets of Windsor Gardens!

Whatever caused Charlotte Harkness to court so far above her station? You had best sit down, Mr. Clemens. Dr. Everly met Miss Harkness while investigating the mysterious death of his sister, Lavinia. Courting over corpses? Whilst in mourning? The shame!

Now, some say that this courtship is a clever ruse. Charlotte Harkness and Dr. Everly seem to think there is something odd about the manner of Lavinia Everly’s death. Neighbors and trusted members of the community have seen them traipsing all over London—without a chaperone!

Is Charlotte Harkness ruining herself while playing detective? Is young Dr. Everly sincere in his affections? Only time will tell. However, I suspect that all of this will come to a sticky end.

Anonymously Yours,

A Concerned Congregant of St. Clementia’s

About The Undertaker’s Daughter:  Charlotte Harkness thinks there is a quiet grace and dignity among the dead. Well, as long as they’re not feeling chatty.

Charlotte Harkness has (quite cheerfully) accepted that she’ll never find love. An undertaker’s daughter who reads embalming manuals and hears the dearly departed? It’s enough to make any Victorian patriarch despair.

When Lavinia Everly’s corpse arrives at Harkness and Sons, Charlotte is tormented by the girl’s final memories, her death at the hands of the mysterious “Jack.” Charlotte knows she must find the killer before madness consumes her.

Dr. James Everly shuns society’s rules to find out who killed his little sister.  When he joins forces with the undertaker’s daughter, he never expected his new ally to be so quick-witted and beautiful.

James and Charlotte agree to pose as a courting couple to continue their investigations. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan.

As danger mounts, Charlotte and James race to stop “Jack”  before he can strike again. Will they succeed, or become the next victims on his list?

Available Now

Excerpt:  “I do now. Intimately,” James chuckled bitterly.

“Some people,” she paused, knowing she had to tread carefully, “think that simply because they haven’t seen a thing, it can’t be so.”

“Exactly, but you have seen it!” He seized upon this point eagerly.

Not so much a matter of seeing, but of hearing, she thought woefully. “I’d like to tell you something. You must promise to hear me out. I’d like you to believe me, as I believe you.”

Puzzled, he nodded.

“I can help you. I may have the lead that you need, something even the police don’t know.”

“What? You do? How?” James leaned forward and grasped her hand, so grateful that he forgot all sense of propriety.

“The man who did this to your sister? His name is Jack, and Lavinia knew him well, well enough to have seen him before that night, anyway.”

“But… but this is incredible. My Lord, the name of the murderer! Oh, Miss Harkness, I cannot thank you enough. Tell me, how did you find this out?”

“I heard it, Dr. Everly. From beyond the grave. Lavinia’s spirit allowed me to hear her final moments.”

About M. Culler:  Author Bio:  Bestselling author M. Culler can’t stick to just one genre. She writes fantasy, mystery, and all flavors of romance. M.Culler lives in historic Chester County, Pennsylvania, where potentially haunted battlegrounds and 18th century buildings serve as neverending inspiration. M.Culler lives for her two brilliant children (mini-bookworms), her gorgeous husband, her endlessly entertaining students, and her wonderful community. If she’s not hunched over a laptop, you’ll find her baking up a storm in the kitchen, playing board games, or watching Brit Coms.  Soli Deo Gloria.

Find M. Culler On Line:   Website and Newsletter   Facebook    Reader’s Group: Book Dragons   Historical Heat Historical Romance Group

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Off the Market?

Is the wealthiest Lord of the Realm off the market?

Readers, we know you all watch this space for news of Lord C. Mayhap because he shuns so many of Society’s formal gatherings. Mayhap because his leonine good looks and heavy purse strings make him inordinately eligible.  Or mayhap due to his rakish reputation, habit of dabbling in the demi-monde and secret summer house parties.

As we’ve reported the past several years, Lord C hosts a secret week-long gathering after the Season’s end at his country estate. Sadly, we’ve once again come up short on details of the events of that week or even the guest list. Why so secretive, Lord C? What goes on out there in the country? Are the rumors of an orgy true? Did his friend Lord M and his mistress-wife attend?

Since then, Lord C has been seen frequenting the apothecary of a certain willowy widow, Lady E. They were also spotted in Bath, along with his friend Mr. O and Lady E’s untitled cousin, perusing apothecaries. But lo, before you ask if Lord C was courting the lovely lady, we have further news. They recently attended a soiree with fellow investors—separately. Given that Lord C could buy her an apothecary with a flick of his wrist, we think the magnificent male is still available. But be warned, ladies, ’tis well known that lords are welcome at his bedroom door as well.


A widow with no knowledge of carnal desire, a rake bored with even the most hedonistic pleasures, and a game of truth or dare…

Lady Althea Egerton’s late husband secured her independence when he left her his apothecary. After two years of growth, she is ready to expand the business…if she only had capital. Finding a wealthy husband would solve that problem, but Althea refuses to subjugate herself to another man. She prefers an investor. Unfortunately, the only one she knows is the golden god of hedonism, and his help comes with a price.

Evan Gardner, Earl of Cheltenham, is bored. At twenty-eight, he has no equal in business, politics, or seduction. None of them hold his interest. Even his annual week-long orgy disguised as a house party leaves him cold. Yet the prudish widow, who wants only his money, intrigues him. As neither of them wants the trappings of marriage, a dalliance with the elegant widow might be just the challenge he’s been searching for.

Though Althea cannot resist the lure of ecstasy he offers as condition for his assistance, a continued liaison could risk her reputation and her store’s profits. To win this negotiation, Evan will have to ensure she can have both independence and pleasure.

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Note – Book 2, featuring Lord M and his mistress-wife, is also available on all major online retailers.

Author bio:  Maggie Sims began her love affair with romance before her teen years, drawn to the Regency by her mum’s British influence. In her twenties, she did her best to live the Carrie Bradshaw life in New York City, albeit with less expensive shoes and more books.

Despite reading hundreds of romance novels in her life, she was still blown away when she met the love of her life, an ex-Marine cinnamon roll with creative woodworking and culinary skills.

Having retired from corporate life, they live in Central Texas and are parents to a varying number of dogs and cats.  When not writing, Maggie is a wine enthusiast, a travel junkie, and a romance reading fiend.  She also sporadically crochets for and does just enough exercise for that second glass of wine at night.

To find out more about Maggie’s latest reads, favorite wines, and travel destinations – and to get the free prequel novella featuring Lord S and Lady R – sign up for her newsletter at and follow her on social media.

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