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Chaos When the Moon is Full

Dear Mr. Clemens,

It would serve you well to send one of them writers of yours to Reabridge here in Cheshire. Since Waterloo we have odd folks of all sorts traveling through and also those soldiers that the Crown cut loose. Our own boys are straggling back home too.

One couple wandered by and left a baby at the vicarage. A baby! They claim it has a connection to Reabridge and now we have two families feuding over it. Of course, the Buckleys and the Pownalls have been feuding for decades so that is nothing new. Now we have others sticking their spoon in to see if they have a claim.

There would be plenty to keep that reporter busy this fall. Even the Vicar has some women staying at the vicarage and even he seems to be up to some sort of shenanigans.

Gwen Hughes has taken up the blacksmithing now her brother is gone. We think she’s hiding something too, and now some stranger—one of those footloose soldiers—has taken up residence.

We have a drunken doctor, a marriage minded Scotswoman, and two hoity toity French women—if rumors are to be believed, another one has been invited up to Barlow Hall.  The vicar’s son doesn’t know what to do with himself, and even Martin Bromelton, who has always been a steady sort of fellow, is acting jumpy. He and his sister took in some woman wandering the roads up at the farm.

You can see, Mr. Clemens, there is plenty to dig up here in Reabridge. Send someone soon, before the Harvest Festival. This will get even more loony then.

Yours Sincerely,

Eunice Fillmore, spinster.

About the Book: Under the Harvest Moon

As the village of Reabridge in Cheshire prepares for the first Harvest Festival following Waterloo, families are overjoyed to welcome back their loved ones from the war.

But excitement quickly turns to mystery when mere weeks before the festival, an orphaned child turns up in the town—a toddler born near Toulouse to an English mother who left clues that tie her to Reabridge.

With two prominent families feuding for generations and the central event of the Harvest Moon festival looming, tensions rise, and secrets begin to surface.

Nine award winning and bestselling authors have combined their talents to create this engaging and enchanting collection of interrelated tales. Under the Harvest Moon promises an unforgettable read for fans of Regency romance.

Story blurbs here: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/under-the-harvest-moon/

Preorder now: https://books2read.com/UnderHarvestMoon

The Wise Bet Is the Duke Is Dead.

A man can learn a lot sitting in the shadows outside the gentlemen’s clubs that line Saint James Street. On a recent night an argument among three particularly drunken pinks of the ton raised some interesting questions. They were discussing a certain duke who had been most conspicuous for his absence during the previous season. Well into the summer no sign of him had been found in any of the usual chains of gossip. It was as I he had disappeared.

One gentleman, an Honorable, if ‘honorable” actually applies to such a man, held forth at some length his belief that the duke had merely decamped to an inn in an obscure village in Nottinghamshire—Ashwell or Ashburn, or something—and was in the process of drinking himself to death. He swore he’d seen him there the previous spring.

The other two argued mightily no one simply walked away from a dukedom. They questioned whether the duke had been kidnapped, set upon by robbers, or met with some other misadventure. The baronet among them held out for death at the hands of brigand. The other argued for drowning and a hint of suicid

A foray among the rear doors of the clubs, discrete questions to servants, and a survey of some of the less savory gambling dens frequented by gentlemen brought the picture into focus to your reporter. Consensus among the fashionable of London is that the duke has met with a grisly end, and I must say that the stories became more gruesome with the telling. Many believe he has done away with himself, and the betting has shifted to how he died and where. Suicide is the leading bet. Some are even scouting the Thames for sign of a body but none has been found so far.

In summary, the Duke of Glenmoor is dead. He must be, for as the gentleman said, no one walks away from a dukedom.

About the Book:

Duke in All But Name, the Entitled Gentlemen Book 1

Is he the bastard or the duke?

Gideon Kendrick grew up as the despised bastard son of the Duke of Glenmoor. Exiled to the mines by his father, he has not only survived but thrived and prospered. He lives apart, wanting nothing to do with the duke, the estate—or anything in his past, except his younger brother Phillip, the new duke.

When Phillip disappears, leaving behind a letter asking his brother to care for his affairs, Gideon can’t refuse. Armed with authority making him the duke in all but name, he returns to the scene of his worst memories, facing vicious rumors and his family’s past. He also finds a grasping would-be heir, a steward with secrets, and a woman who stirs in him a desire he thought buried with his beloved wife.

Mia Selwyn lives in the shadows, an unwanted poor relation in the house of her viscount uncle. When her cousin’s hoydenish attempt to meet the supposed heir sees her drenched, ill, and in need of nursing, Mia is sent to care for her. Though warned to stay clear of the despised Kendrick, she is drawn into the dark undercurrents among the mismatched collection of residents and enthralled by the enigmatic Mr. Kendrick.

She quickly realizes he is not the monster he is rumored to be, twisted in body and mind. Instead, he is a resilient resourceful man with a deep love of family. As family, household servants, and villagers take sides on whether Gideon is the source of all the estate’s problems or its salvation, Mia and Gideon forge a partnership.

Together they struggle to unravel secrets and the tangle Phillip left behind, and in the process, find a future for themselves.

Read Free in Kindle Unlimited or purchase here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BJS3GDN7/

The duke is dead! Or is he? Watch for Phillip’s story, Book 2, Duke in Name Only this spring.

The Entitled Gentlemen Series

An interview with a veteran of Trafalgar and his lady!

Previously Recorded Interview:

Ah, there you are and just in time. Thank you for joining us on WRAC. I knew you wouldn’t want to miss this. We’ve pulled a real coup. Let me give you a little background before they begin. I’m your host and moderator, Justin Case. We’re about to interview the hero, Lord Fraser Castleton, and heroine, Lady Marianna Ravencroft, of Ruth A. Casie’s book, The Lady and the Barrister. I see everyone is ready. I’ll fill you in on their story when the interview is over.

[footsteps walking across the floor]

Justin Case: (Facing the audience) Welcome and good afternoon. Today’s guests are Lord Fraser Castleton, the new Duke of Willbury a barrister and veteran of the War of Trafalgar. Also with us is his intended, Lady Marianna Ravencroft. She gives her time to the Sommer-by-the-Sea Foundation, raising funds for the disadvantaged. She does that in a very unique manner. She is the eminent event planner who asks her patrons to donate her fee to the Foundation. She has an impressive list of clients, there is a rumor that even the queen may be commissioning her services.

As you know our time is limited so I won’t go into their backgrounds. You can find all that in the story.

One minute, I’m getting a message from the control room. Yes. Our guest have just arrived. They are just coming in the studio door. I have a good view of Lord Castleton. He is a handsome man with dark wavy hair, a bit unruly, he keeps combing his fingers through it. He has a well-trimmed beard and blue green eyes. Ah, I can see why ladies swoon. I wish you could see for yourself. Lady Anna, as she prefers to be called, described him as having “a devastating smile that curled her toes.” 

Wait, Lady Anna is turning around. Oh, my, her bronze curls frame her face. She has a slender frame and slim hips. Her penetrating brown eyes can take your breath away. I can see from her smile that she is a bit mischievous and full of good humor. They make a lovely couple. Here they come.

(Justin stood as the guests entered) Please, have a seat. I want to thank you both for taking time to talk to us today. 

Lord Fraser: We are happy to visit with you.

Justin: I want to be respectful of your time so let’s go right into our questions. Sometimes an author’s vision of the story doesn’t always match with that of the characters. Do you have any complaints on how Ms. Casie depicted you or the story events.

Lord Fraser: (Glanced at his wife then back at Justin) No. Not at all. Our story is a Regency friends to lovers story. As a bachelor duke there wasn’t anywhere, I could go that some mother, grandmother or aunt was telling me how they had just the woman I had to meet. Surely, I would marry her.

Lady Anna: I had a similar situation. With my family’s situation, money and title, men were coming out of the woodwork telling me they were just what I needed. They were more than happy to take over the management of my money and estate. They event thought I would give up my business, after all, women in my situation didn’t work. Can you imagine. Even though I helped the families in our village.

Justin: That brings up an interesting question. When you marry, who will take care of the household accounts?

Lord Fraser and Lady Anna answered simultaneously: We both will, together.

Justin: (chuckling) I am sure that is a first in Regency England. Lady Anna, I understand the story centers around a pact you make with Lord Fraser.

Lady Anna: It’s a simple one. We decided to pretend he was courting me to keep others from bombarding us with matches. We decided we would find the perfect match for each other. (Anna glances at Fraser) We never realized we already had met our perfect match.

Justin: Very clever. I don’t want to give away the story, but Lady Anna your distant cousin had other plans for you. 

Lord Fraser: (holding Anna’s hand) You don’t have to speak about that.

Lady Anna: (looking at him lovingly then at Justin) My cousin Richard wanted money and power. Like others who had approached me, he thought marrying me was his answer. But he was a devious man who caused pain not only to my family, but to his Grace’s family as well. But you came to my rescue.

Lord Fraser: Kaiah played a big part in that.

Justin: Ah, yes, Kaiah, an extraordinary shepherd. (listening to his earpiece) I want to thank Lord Fraser and Lady Anna for joining us today. You can find out more about Kaiah, Lord Fraser, and Lady Anna The Lady and the Barrister by Ruth A. Casie.

I’d like to acknowledge our station, WRAC and staff for their commitment and fortitude to see this project to fruition. Many technologies had to be developed to make this happen and credit must be given where credit is deserved.

General Manager — Norma Leigh Lucid

Studio Manager — Helen Back

Maintenance Supervisors — Earl E. Bird and Ella Vada

Musical Supervisor — Kerry Oki

Electrical Engineers — Flint Sparks and Les Volt

Sound Crew — Mike Rafone and Constance Hum

Traffic Manager — Joy Rider

Legal Advisor — Sara Bellum

Researchers — Paige Turner and Rita Booke

Commissary Director — Jasmine Rice

Security Directors — Barry Cade and Anna Conda

Funded by donors Hy Price and his wonderful wife Lois Price

The Lady and the Barrister – Book 1

The Return of the Ladies of Sommer-by-the-Sea

 After two failed London Seasons the fussy heiress doesn’t have a suitor. Her close friend, a newly minted duke cannot keep the mothers with single daughters away. They make a pact to pretend to court while they find each other the perfect mate. When will they realize, they don’t have to look very far.

Releases April 11 – Amazon KU https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BSG2GMH9 

Excerpt

“There was a time… I’m almost embarrassed to tell you.”

He leaned down and spoke so only she could hear. “You must know your secrets are safe with me. Now that you’ve piqued my interest, you must tell me.”

“That at one time I thought about wearing a token of some sort and letting people think someone had offered for me just to stop their infernal questions and interference.”

They entered the dining room.

“I don’t think that’s so terrible.” They browsed the table looking for their place card. “Look at Violet Scofield. She has it in her mind that we are interested in each other and is looking elsewhere for a match for Sonia’s niece. There can’t be any rumors of being after each other’s fortunes. We’ve known each other almost all our lives, and we get along well.”

She stopped and stared at him. He tugged her along.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” The thought was intriguing. “No, it’s impossible.”

“Here we are. Conveniently next to each other.” Willbury pulled out her chair. “I don’t think it’s impossible. A bit reckless, but nothing more. What obstacles could there be?”

He bent close as he moved her chair.

“We will be courting, not engaged. That will leave both of us able to discontinue the arrangement without consequences. Isn’t that the purpose of courting? To see if we suit?”

She was more astonished that he was serious about this arrangement and not his usual teasing self.

He took his seat. “This will only work if everyone believes us.” He leaned over to Mrs. Bainbridge next to him and said something she didn’t hear.

Anna remained quiet. His idea was preposterous. It would require spending a great deal of time together. She gave him a sideways glance. Yes, she’d been thinking about him since yesterday, but this? And yes, they’d spent a lot of time together when they were younger, and she did miss her close friend.

He came away from Mrs. Bainbridge, chuckled, and returned his attention to her.

“I could always tell when you were conjuring up something. You are giving my proposition thought, aren’t you?”

Anna dipped her head with all intentions of putting an end to his teasing. She schooled her face, presenting a stern haughty glare. She raised her chin and gazed into his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek, creating a mischievous mien.

His gentle laughter rippled through the air. His roguish eyes and lips released something inside her. She recognized his silent challenge. He thought he would accomplish what she could not.

 About the Author

Ruth A Casie is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical adventures from the shores of medieval Scotland to the cobblestone streets of Regency London. Within the pages you’ll discover ‘edge-of-your-seat’ suspense, mind boggling drama, and heart melting emotions featuring strong women and the men who deserve them. Grab your favorite cup of tea, or an ale if you prefer, and join her heroes and heroines as they race across the pages to find their happily ever after.  Ruth hopes her stories are your next favorite adventures!

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Tell no one! A lady calling upon a gentleman in her nightrail?

I write to you today to tell you of a most outlandish tale I heard. That of the Whiskey King’s daughter. (I dare not say her name.) And that she visited the Duke of M—’s son in her nightrail!

Now I know that seems impossible, but one of her neighbors swears it was she who scampered out of her house toward the duke’s.

Who else could it be? That man has no other girl so bold.

Or I do believe it to be so. What say you of his second child?

***

THE RAVEN’S LAST BET in THE WEDDING WAGER

BUY LINK: 

https://books2read.com/u/3JZQLJ

 

Desperate Sara Fleming decides the only way to escape her father’s plan is to make her newest betrothed a bet he can’t refuse.

Never good at gambling, Harry Seymour bets he can find a better way to win her heart! 

But he better hurry!

 Harry Seymour is home from years of fighting abroad to clean up the mess his roguish brother left upon his untimely death. Worse, his father, the Duke of Meredith, demands Harry honor a deal he made with his best friend to marry the man’s eldest daughter…for money.

Harry, who’s loved Sara Fleming since she was four, has no problem marrying her. He never did, even when she was denied him because she was the Whiskey King’s daughter. But not for money. 

Sara cannot accept the bargain her father made with the duke. She’s already left two men at the altar because she didn’t love either one. And if she can’t wed Harry for love, she’ll marry no one. But she wagers she’ll walk away happy if Harry will do her the favor of ruining her. It’s a bet Harry can’t refuse.

Can he?

Excerpt, All rights reserved. Copyright Cerise DeLand 2022.

        “Listen to me, Sara. I have a plan. It won’t be one either of our fathers likes but it might work.”

She pulled away. Peering into his magnificent eyes clouded her judgement. His green-brown orbs reflected a sadness in the faint lights that matched her own. “Tell me.”

“We announce that we intend to marry others.”

“I’ve already left two men alone before the vicar. Now there’s this gossip in the Gazette—?”

“Forget those other two men. And hang them at the Gazette.”

She put a hand to her hip. “We’ll send them new stories. Marvelous. I dislike your thinking, Harry. Totally. Marry another? Ba! Precisely who did you have in mind?” 

He gave her a look that said he had the right answer. “A man who makes you tingle.”

“Of whom there is no one.” Which is a lie.

“For each woman, there is a man. A perfect match.”

“I’ve not found him in four years. Why now?”

“You will lure him.”

 By some folly, to be sure. “How?”

A wicked gleam lit those iridescent eyes. “With kisses.”

“You expect me to kiss men?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “How else will you discover the right fellow?”

“How else will I go down as a scarlet woman? I’ve climbed enough fences barring me because I am of the dreaded merchant class. Papa’s money might continue to buy me entry, but if I degrade myself further, no one will touch me!”

He tipped up his chin. “You will be discreet. I will help.”

“You’ll bar doors?”

“And divert traffic.”

She scowled at him. “You’ve been away much too long, sir. You think me so brave. I am different from that child who tagged along behind you and tucked frogs in your pants.”

He scoffed. “Remind me. Who came to me night before last in her nightrail?”

”Dressing gown.”

He waved that away. “Exactly my point.”

Exasperated, she huffed. “The fault, dear Harry, is not in our stars, but in myself.”

“I agree.”

Oh, he infuriated her! “I do not know how to kiss.”

“And so you will learn.”

Only one way. She could barely say it. “By doing.”

“Indeed.” He winked. “With me.”

That way lay disaster and hopeless ruin. She’d should return to this party, because this was hopeless. She’d given up wanting him so long ago. Or thought she had. She threw up her hands. “Absurd.”

“Is it?” He took a step toward her, so near she inhaled his scent, imbibed his familiar allure that she could not allow to thrill her. “You said my kiss left you with no…what is the word?”

“You know perfectly well the word.”

“Tickle?”

If only. “Tingle.”

“Well then, my darling.” With one hand he caught her wrist while he swept his other hand around her waist. “Let’s see if this fits the bill.”

“No, stop!” Wonderful. Now she sounded like the village crier. 

“There, there. Don’t be shy. An experiment, eh?” He lifted her hand toward his mouth. “Or shall we call it…” he murmured, as he put her index finger, fully gloved, against the neat cleft in his chin, “…a demonstration? Visible to the naked eye.”

He smiled. Or was that the show of teeth of a predator? A creature who…gloated? 

He caught the point of her glove between his long white incisors. The act of a male bent on taking a bite of her, he tugged. The fabric slid along her finger, silk on silk, a glissade of shivering delight. Her glove glided from her elbow in a silent skim of her nerves. She shivered.

He halted. Glanced up at her, those long dark lashes of his rising to reveal the facets of a Harry she’d never known. A ravenous devil appeared there, one who pulled at another fingertip, starving for more of her until her hand was bare. Nipping her third finger and the next, he sent tremors up her spine. Her mouth fell open as he took her smallest finger, fabric and all, and bathed the whole of it in his hot moist mouth. His tongue served as succor—and as torture. 

She panted as if she’d run a mile. Her gaze glued to his voracious teeth, she dare not look away or lose a second. What he gave, she took. If it was instruction, it was also a revelation. Though she knew not how to interpret his lips to her fingers as lips to lips, she reveled in whatever he’d choose next. 

With a yank of his teeth, he pulled and her glove slid slowly down her arm and fell to the floor. She was bare to the night air, chilled and burning, as he caught her fingers and pressed them to his open mouth. He cupped her elbow, and her wrist was once more his. Bare skin gave him no pause, but encouragement to lift her hand once more. 

He groaned and crushed her torso fully against him. His possession, from her breasts to her hips, left her pulsing. 

He put her palm to his lips and licked the hollow of her hand. She moaned at his luscious homage and her knees gave way. As he caught her up, he bit the heal of her hand. She yelped. He gave a grunt, nigh unto laughter or triumph, she knew not which, then wrapped her arm around his waist. As he sweetly backed her to the wall, his hair fell loose over his brow and he focused on her lips. 

Then he took them.

Cerise DeLand is the USA TODAY Bestselling author of more than 60 historical romances…and a few other bits, too! 

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DRAGONBLADE: https://www.dragonbladepublishing.com/cerise-deland/

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The Duke of Glenmoor is Dead

Numerous witnesses have come forward to the Teatime Tattler with the following rather lurid story making the rounds of London salons and drawing rooms.

First a bit of background. Betting has raged the better part of summer and into autumn about the fate of the Duke of Glenmoor who went missing quite suddenly. Dukes do not, as numerous well-connected people have pointed out, “go missing,” yet this one has. This has led to rampant speculation about his heath, his sanity, and even about his survival.

Tasteless as it is to report, many of these unfortunate bets have come down on the side of the duke’s death by violence, accident, or even, sadly, his own hand. His obvious despondence just before his disappearance, lends credence to the latter. It has been said, however, that dukes do not kill themselves. It isn’t done.

What brings this unpleasantness to our attention today is a new claim. The Honorable Eustace Selwyn came forward at White’s last night with a new assertion. Several witnesses attest that he signed the betting book with the claim that the duke is dead and further that he was killed by his brother. Since said brother, rumored to be deformed and not of sound mind, has long been thought to be dead, this allegation met with disdain and incredulity.

The Honorable Eustace is known to be what one wag called, “a dunderheaded drunken rattle,” and his claims could be easily dismissed but for one fact. Eustace Selwyn had just returned from his home in Dorset, a home that is known to be the neighbor of Mountglen, the duke’s primary seat. He claimed that, while there, he actually observed the brother or a man claiming to be he. Selwyn believes him and asserts that the brother, now calling himself Gideon Kendrick, is not only alive, but much brighter than reported. The Honorable Eustace proposed “cunning,” as the better descriptor. London is not certain what to make of it, but men are lining up on both sides of the bet nonetheless, as young men are prone to do.

***

The not so Honorable Eustace Selwyn appears in Caroline Warfield’s, Duke in All But Name, currently in process. In that story the Duke of Glenmoor has indeed gone missing. He and his brother, Gideon Kendrick, first appeared in The Defiant Daughter, as step sons of the heroine. In that story moral and legal complications regarding the circumstances of their birth came to light.

About The Defiant Daughter

Madelyn assumed marriage as an old man’s ornament would be better than life with her abusive parents. She was wrong.

Now the widowed Duchess of Glenmoor, she wrestles with ugly memories and cultivates a simple life. She is content. At least, she was until her half-brother returned to Ashmead bringing a friend with knowing eyes and coal black hair to capture her thoughts.

Colonel Brynn Morgan’s days as an engineer in his father’s coal mines in Wales are long behind him. With peace come at last and Napoleon gone, he makes a life for himself analyzing the reports about military and naval facilities worldwide for a shadowy government department. What income he has is committed elsewhere. He has nothing to offer a wife, much less a dowager duchess.

More lies between the duchess and the man she wants than money and class. They have personal demons to slay.

Available for purchase or read for free with Kindle Unlimited. https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09GL6PT1J/

About the Author

Award winning author Caroline Warfield has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.

Website:   http://www.carolinewarfield.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/WarfieldFellowTravelers

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Caroline-Warfield/e/B00N9PZZZS/

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