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Leaving the Ball for the Garden? Horrors! Never!

Sweetbriar Engagement Ball

One must wonder about the judgment of Lady BA’s widowed father in allowing her flirtatious association with a variety of gentlemen. However, none of her many beaus created as much gossip and near scandal as her involvement with Viscount RD.

   Although many hoped the coquettish Lady BA would tame the wild and sometimes unprincipled Viscount, that expectation was dashed recently when Lord MA announced the sudden (and shall we say rushed) betrothal and subsequent nuptials to an American sea captain, of all people!

  Sweetbriar The ill-mannered American did not bother to attend the engagement ball until much too late in the evening—well after the midnight dinner. As scandalous as that was, it did not compare to the unfortunate timing of his tardy arrival.

   Neither Lady BA nor Viscount RD could be located in the ballroom. Rumor has it the American found them cozied up together in the garden!

   Within days, I’m told, the two men met at dawn to settle a matter of honor. Gossip as it that the naughty-naughty Viscount again brought to question the matter of his principals. No one seems to know the source, but the sobriquet of “Diaper Dan” has been bandied about ever since that fateful day.

   Of the American? No one knows nor seems to care.

Sweetbriar: A Love Triangle Romance

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Sweetbriar-Paula-Judith-Johnson-ebook/dp/B00AG3SXLE/

 

About the Author

Authenticity is essential to Romance author Paula Judith Johnson, especially in the historical romance genre.

“I’m an avid history buff! My late husband, Wayne, and I were involved with many mountain man-era black powder clubs for over 20 years. I’ve carried that excitement and passion with me ever since and often use those experiences when writing about the early 1800s.”

Paula Judith Johnson is the author of esteemed romance novels, such as her historical Sweetbriar: A Love Triangle Romance, a 2020 Book Excellence Award Finalist. Her two contemporary romances are Starting Over: A Second Chance Romance, Book 1, and Second Time Around: A Second Chance Romance, Book 2.

Her fourth novel, Brewer’s Betrothal: A Love Triangle Romance, is the first in a trilogy that returns her readers to the era of 1812 America. This novel pulls in a few characters from Sweetbriar for cameo appearances.

Paula Judith finds that on some mornings, the words flow effortlessly. Those mornings are rare jewels she cherishes. Other mornings, she scrapes along a barren, rock-strewn path picking up little pebbles, one by one. Either way, she loves the process of walking alongside her characters, crying with them over their losses, and rejoicing with them in their triumphs. “After all,” she says, “they are my friends. I hope they become your friends, too.”

Fun Facts About Paula Judith Johnson:
While involved in mountain man-era black powder clubs, Paula Judith regularly shot reproduction muzzle-loading rifles, pistols, and shotguns. She also enjoyed throwing Bowie knives, tomahawks, and spears.

Paula Judith boasts many competition prizes and is especially proud of placing 1st in woman’s rifle and 1st Overall (rifle, pistol, knife & tomahawk) at the last Fort Clatsop Muzzleloaders rendezvous.

Social Media Links

Email: Paula@PaulaJudithJohnson.com

https://www.facebook.com/paulajudith.johnson/

https://twitter.com/Steamy_Romance

https://www.facebook.com/groups/romancedreamweavers

http://paulajudithjohnson.com

https://www.linkedin.com/in/romancepaulajudithjohnson/

Scandal can be found anywhere!

Abigail Danvers paced behind her sister as she penned the latest gossip they learned at the Valentine’s Day ball in Bath. If Prudence didn’t hurry, they would never get the information to Samuel Clemens at The Teatime Tattler in time for the morning edition. Perhaps this might not be a bad thing after all…

“It’s done,” Prudence finally said before standing up to allow Abigail to sit at the desk. “Tell me what you think.”

Abigail continued her pacing. She had recently begun to wonder if being an anonymous reporter for The Teatime Tattler was worth their time and energy. They’d never find husbands if they spent all their time snooping into other people’s business.

“I’m certain it’s fine, Prudence.”

A heavy sigh left her sister. “Just look at it, for heaven’s sake. A second pair of eyes are helpful.”

“Very well,” Abigail replied taking a seat and beginning to read.

This just in, gentle readers!

If you missed the charity Valentine’s Day ball in Bath, and honestly anyone who is everyone was present, then you didn’t witness the latest gossip. A certain Miss M.d.C. was spotted dancing without a proper introduction to an unknown gentleman. There was much speculation after she was escorted from the ball by her sister on exactly who this very fine-looking man was. Stay tuned for more news on what this young Miss will get herself involved in next. It’s never a dull moment where this young lady is concerned.

An Anonymous Reporter for
The Teatime Tattler

Abigail began folding the letter. “It’s fine,” she replied curtly.

Prudence frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing at all. It’s just me. I’m in a foul mood,” Abigail replied. “I’m getting a bit tired of constantly blabbing all we see for Clemens instead of focusing on finding our own husbands.”

Prudence laughed. “Miranda de Courtenay deserves everything she gets!”

Abigail’s brow lifted. “Does she, Prudence? Honestly, it was only a dance. What harm was done?”

“But it was Miranda de Courtenay!” her sister bellowed.

“Never mind. Just send the darn thing,” Abigail snapped. “Mr. Clemen’s will be pleased with it even if I am questioning our involvement.”

Prudence grabbed at the letter and called for a servant to have it delivered post haste. Abigail wiped a tear from her eye and went to her room. She’d worry over where her life would lead from this point forward in the morning.


This is an original post is from Belle Sherry Ewing whose novella Before I Found You: A De Courtenay Novella (Book Three) releases on February 8th. Recently found in the Belles’ box set Storm & Shelter, it will now be available for individual sale.

Before I Found You:
A De Courtenay Novella (Book Three)
By Sherry Ewing

Release Date: February 8, 2022

A quest for a title. An encounter with a stranger. Will she choose love?

Miss Miranda de Courtenay has only one goal in life: to find a rich husband who can change her status from Miss to My Lady. But when a handsome stranger crosses her path at a Valentine’s Day ball, her obsession with titles dims. Might love be enough?

Captain Jasper Rousseau has no plans to become infatuated during a chance encounter at a ball. He has a new ship to run, passengers to book, and cargo to deliver. But one look into a young lady’s beautiful hazel eyes, and he becomes lost. Does love at first sight really exist?

Their paths continue to cross until they are both stranded in Fenwick on Sea. Their growing connection is hard to dismiss, despite Miranda’s childish quest for a title at all cost. But what if the cost includes love?

Buy Links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3EMDFgS

Apple Books: https://apple.co/3FNrW2W

Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/3qK7BVM

Kobo: https://bit.ly/3HmHIC0

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International:

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Angus & Robertson: https://bit.ly/3FKMpp6

Vivlio: https://bit.ly/3pIP5he

From the Editor’s Desk

From the desk of Sam’l Clemens, esq.

December 15

Dear readers, kind followers, critics, and vile attackers,

We at the Tattler thank you for your attention throughout this past year, whether you have applauded or showered us in brickbats (all attention is good and we’re pleased when you mention our name).

As the year draws to a close, our reporters grow weary. I have surrendered to pleas and declared that The Teatime Tattler shall be on hiatus. This respite began at close of business yesterday and will, I regret to say, continue until the middle of January when the rascals and rogues I call reporters shall have returned from the burrows into which they have disappeared. One hopes they will bring with them tantalizing tales, ribald rumors, and stories of disgraceful deeds: our stock and trade. One ambitious young fellow is off to visit his granny in Yorkshire, where, we hear, some salacious scandal is brewing.

I myself wish to spend these holidays in Bristol with a nephew who is soon to depart to the former colonies. I hope to convince him to send dispatches from that wild and uncivilized place.

We shall do our best to return to you reinvigorated and prepared to bring you the gossip you crave as often as may prove possible. Enjoy your winter revels, and do send us any tidbits you come across.

S. Clemens

 

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

Facebook link: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorWendyVella
Website link: https://wendyvella.com/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6459297.Wendy_Vella
Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/wendy-vella

 

 

 

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/

 

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