Maggi Andersen's Blog, page 41
August 19, 2016
A Cinderella Story. The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter Pre-Order 0.99 http://amzn.to/2aI7jsI
THE EARL AND THE HIGHWAYMAN’S DAUGHTERAvailable for Pre-Order Published 1st September$0.99 cents
1. “Don’t worry about my reputation, my lord. We leave that sort of fuss to the gentry. I don’t envy you your fancy manners and morals. All a sorry lot of pretense, that is."
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iBooksRegency Romance
Eugenia Hawthorne, daughter of a deceitful highwayman, saves the life of the Earl of Trentham after he’s deposited at her door suffering from a bullet wound. Outsmarting her father, the earl takes Eugenia to live in his beautiful country estate, Lilac Court. But what does he really want from her? It seems there’s a mystery attached to an emerald necklace, which he wishes her to wear at a London ball. Could Eugenia be the daughter of a powerful duke, but born on the wrong side of the blanket? Her mother refused to tell her.
As Brendan, Earl of Trentham, works to bring down a hated foe, he and his sister instruct Eugenia in the ways of the ton. She is beautiful and, despite the cloud over her birth, will be desired by many men. Why doesn’t that prospect make him happy?
Review:“The Earl and the Highwayman’s Daughter is indeed a Cinderella story with Eugenia as our young beauty and the Earl as her “prince.” I was delighted to spend a few hours with the characters while they navigated their way through society’s dos and don’ts, all in the name of hope and sweet romance. It didn’t take me long to care about the characters and I was invested to know what would happen to them.” Books & Benches.
Excerpt:
At the banging on the door, Eugenia jumped up from the table where she’d been sewing by the light of a candle. She seldom felt vulnerable here alone at night, aware that her father’s reputation would protect her. Still, the feel of the heavy pistol in her hands made her braver. She unbolted the door a crack and poked the pistol through it. “Who’s there?”“Don’t shoot, miss. We’re in need of help. My master’s been shot.” A wiry-haired man stood on the step, struggling to hold up a much bigger man, who sagged in his arms. Blood dripped down from his hand onto the step.Eugenia opened the door wide. “Bring him inside.” He hefted the man into the room. “Lay him on the settle by the fire.”She lit the lantern and went outside to check the road. There was no sound of approaching riders and nothing moved in the shadows beyond the arc of light. She shut the door and eased the bolt across.“We were set upon by highwaymen in the forest,” he explained while laying the man down on the wooden seat. “Milord’s been shot. I suppose it’s too much to hope there’s a surgeon in the village?”“Just an apothecary. I know more than he does. I’ll tend to him. Help me get his coat off.”Moving him gently, they peeled off the man’s greatcoat and dark blue tailcoat, exposing his waistcoat and fine linen shirt beneath, soaked with blood. “His lordship, did you say?”“Earl of Trentham.”She took her scissors from her sewing box. “How long ago was he shot?”“Not long ago and not far from here. If you can manage without me, I’ll put the horses in the barn. They’re a signpost to our whereabouts for anyone that’s looking.”She nodded and cut the shirt away from the wound exposing his lordship’s well-muscled chest. He was a healthy specimen. That might stand him in good stead. The ball had passed through the soft flesh high on his shoulder and bled freely. “At least we don’t have to dig for the ball.” Eugenia poured water from the kettle on the hob into a bowl. She added cold water from a jug, soaped her hands, then dried them thoroughly. What evil was afoot this night? She feared for her father. The man came inside and shut the door behind him. “What is your name, sir?”“Neal Pollitt, miss. I’m his lordship’s groom.”“Mr. Pollitt, take this cloth and press it against the wound. I’m going to pick some herbs.”She knew every inch of her garden even in the dark and located what she sought with little trouble. Her arms full of yarrow, Lady’s mantle, lavender and garlic, she returned to the house.Pollitt stood by his master’s side. “We should cauterize the wound.”“Yes. I’ll do it if you hold him down.”Pollitt nodded at her, admiration in his gaze. Eugenia fetched gunpowder and tapped a little into the wound. She held up the taper. “Ready?”The groom took a firm hold of his lordship’s arms. “Do it.”Eugenia lit the taper from the fire and touched it to the gunpowder. As it ignited and flared, the injured man groaned deeply and struggled against Pollitt’s firm hold. The acrid smell of burnt flesh filled the air.Eugenia winced. “Poor devil. Soothing herbs will aid him.”She poured hot water into a bowl and added lavender. Taking a cloth, she dipped it in the bowl and wrung it out then wiped the worst of the blood and gunpowder away. She continued until the wound was clean. It now bled a good deal less.“You are close to the forest here, Miss…”“Hawthorne.”“Might be that the robbers will return, Miss Hawthorne. I should stay and keep guard.”They wouldn’t come to her father’s house. “My father swears blind he saw a specter there. That wood is said to be haunted. A highwayman was strung up there, many years ago.”“Ghosts don’t shoot people, do they? Anyway, his lordship shot one.”She swung around and studied his face. “Was he killed?”“Yes. Stone dead.”She frowned. “What did he look like, this highwayman?”“I didn’t stop to see. He wore a kerchief over his face. Red hair and he was young. Might you know him?”“No,” she said with relief. “Where does his lordship hail from?”“His country seat, Lilac Park, some miles from here. Over in Surrey.”She nodded as she worked. “I’ve heard some mention of it. The place sounds pretty. Is it?”“Indeed it is.” He examined his master with a worried frown. “Be all right, will he?“Too soon to tell. Why are you traveling in these parts?”“We were on our way home from a visit to Chatterton Hall.”“I know of that manor house. It’s very grand.”“’Tis the home of his lordship’s father-in-law.”She gazed at the big man crumpled on her settle. “His lordship’s married then?”Pollitt shook his head. “A widower, these two years past.”“Sad to see his children orphaned.”“He doesn’t have children.” He stepped closer to peer at his master. “He breathes well. You don’t think he’ll die, do you?”She held his lordship’s sturdy wrist in her hand. “Gunshots are tricky, but his pulse is strong. He has a good chance I’d say.”“You must have heard of Lord Trentham? He married Lord Chatterton’s daughter, Lady Anne.”Eugenia shook her head. She didn’t listen to village gossip; it was often untruthful. She’d seen Chatterton’s daughter ride past once on a handsome grey, with two well-dressed men and another woman. They’d stopped at the village inn for luncheon. Lady Anne’s hair was dark beneath her hat, and she’d worn an exquisite habit of emerald green velvet. Eugenia had suffered a bout of envy. Not for those people and their privileged lives exactly, but just for that green velvet. The color would suit her. One day she would have a gown like that. She ground herbs in a bowl with a mortar and pestle. When would her father see fit to return? A chill of unease snaked up her spine. She made a poultice and placed it against the man’s wound then bound it with cloth. “There’s boysenberry wine in that jug on the shelf. Help yourself before you brave the cold.”“Don’t mind if I do. I’ll ride to Lilac Court and return with a carriage to take his lordship home. He’ll do better there with the family doctor.”“Maybe he will. Although doctors…” She shrugged. “They’re as likely to kill you as not.”Eugenia frowned. She was anxious to get rid of his lordship and the sooner, the better, but he did look poorly. “He should not be moved tonight,” she said with some reluctance. What would her father say when he came home and found him here? She didn’t trust her father an inch.The groom put down the tankard. “’Tis a good drop, miss. Anything more I can do before I go?”“You can lift his lordship onto my father’s bed. He’s too tall for the settle.”“Right you are.”Pollitt was stronger than he looked. He heaved the unconscious man up and laid him on the bed. Lord Trentham groaned but didn’t wake. “I’ll pull off his boots, shall I?”She nodded, caught by the earl’s handsome face. Dark lashes feathered his cheeks, his thick dark brown hair disheveled. Long powerful legs stretched over the cot. A fine figure of a man.Pollitt pulled off a boot. “I hope he’ll be safe here if I leave. Looks like the highwaymen have given up.”“He will be,” Eugenia said firmly, determined to make it so.When the other gleaming Hessian boot dropped to the floor, Pollitt headed for the door. “I’ll be off then.”“The longer he has to rest before you move him, the better.”Pollitt nodded with one last glance at his master. “I’ll return as soon as I can. And thank ’e, Miss Hawthorne. His lordship will be most grateful.”When the door closed behind him, Eugenia returned to her patient. She sprinkled lavender over the pillow and covered him with a blanket. He was deeply asleep. She wondered what color his eyes were. Her fingers itched to trace his brow, his fine straight nose and well-formed lips. But he was so far above her the one thing he might want from her she’d never be prepared to give. She rose quickly and fetched her mending to keep herself busy. She would not sleep; she would listen to his breathing. He must live. Despite the differences in their station, their futures were linked in some way. She felt it in her bones. Her mother had pronounced Eugenia to be far-sighted. She leaned over and smoothed back his dark waves, like silk beneath her fingers. She hoped it was true.
August 8, 2016
New Regency from Maggi Andersen. Available for Pre-Order at 0.99 cents!
The Earl and the Highwayman's DaughterReleased 1st September 2016.
Regency Romance Eugenia Hawthorne, daughter of a deceitful highwayman, saves the life of the Earl of Trentham after he’s deposited at her door suffering from a bullet wound. Outsmarting her father, the earl takes Eugenia to live in his beautiful country estate, Lilac Court. But what does he really want from her? It seems there’s a mystery attached to an emerald necklace, which he wishes her to wear at a London ball. Could Eugenia be the daughter of a powerful duke, but born on the wrong side of the blanket? Her mother refused to tell her.
As Brendan, Earl of Trentham, works to bring down a hated foe, he and his sister instruct Eugenia in the ways of the ton. She is beautiful and, despite the cloud over her birth, will be desired by many men. Why doesn’t that prospect make him happy?
A Reader's Opinion
"The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter is indeed a Cinderella story with Eugenia as our young beauty and the Earl as her "prince." I was delighted to spend a few hours with the characters while they navigated their way through society's dos and don'ts, all in the name of hope and sweet romance."
Books & Benches
Pre-Order $0.99 Amazon
Amazon UK
Amazon AU
Smashwords
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
iBooks
Excerpt:
Eugenia Hawthorne is keen to impress her handsome new guardian with her riding skills.
The groom led out a short, solid grey horse. “This is Grey Dreamer, Miss Hawthorne.” He went to fetch the saddle.Dismayed, Eugenia stared at the horse. “I’m to ride a pony?” She’d been patting a tall chestnut gelding who had thrust his handsome head over the door of the box. “She looks half asleep.”His lordship threw back his head and laughed. “Then you shall wake her. Grey Dreamer is my stallion’s companion. Neal, please assist Miss Hawthorne to mount.”Eugenia eyed the sidesaddle. It looked impossibly foolish. “Can I not use an ordinary saddle?”His lordship shook his head. “That is unacceptable. And I’m losing patience.”With the groom’s help, she clambered onto the saddle and arranged her leg around the pommel. She took up the reins and reached for the crop, and then as his lordship mounted his stallion, she walked the animal out onto the cobblestones in the stable yard. Once out in the sunshine, Grey Dreamer appeared to droop. Eugenia nudged the animal in its round belly with the heel of her half boot. The grey came alive and took off down the carriage drive with his lordship yelling instructions behind her. The horse then lurched sideways onto the lawn, heading straight for the rose garden. “Whoa,” Eugenia cried, tugging on the reins. Her face burned with distress. What would his lordship think if she trampled his garden? With one final violent tug, she managed to steer the stubborn horse away from the roses and pull her up. Grey Dreamer bent her head, and with delicate precision, picked up a fallen rose, and munched it, a serene expression in her big brown eyes. “You are a fraud, Grey Dreamer,” Eugenia said with disgust. Lord Trentham joined her on his magnificent burnished gold stallion. “I’m glad you managed to stop the mare,” he said. “My head gardener would be livid if the horse attacked his prize roses.” He reached across and took the reins from her. “I can manage her, my lord,” she said, her face hot. “We shall not risk it, Eugenia. I don’t wish to face my sister’s wrath. And you might get hurt.”“You said I required instruction,” she said, dismayed. “Better here, surely, then amid a group of seasoned riders who will make me look foolish. Can we ride just a little way along the bridle path?” She was determined to show him she could ride well.He frowned. “It’s against my better judgment.”“Please?” She eyed him carefully. “I may lose my confidence and not be able to face the riders in Rotten Row.” He patted the neck of his horse, which had begun to nuzzle Grey Dreamer. “Oh very well,” he said at last. “I’ll lead your horse to the bridle path. I’m not about to put my gardens at further risk. I suspect Grey Dreamer has a fancy for roses.”Reaching the path, his lordship handed the reins to her. “Keep the horse to a walk, Eugenia.”Eugenia bit her lip. This was her chance. Walking along a path would prove nothing. A child could do it. She would be careful not to nudge the horse quite so hard this time. Grey Dreamer was foxing. The horse was far more awake than she made out. Perhaps she was not often ridden and wanted for exercise. A gentler tap with her crop had the mare in a trot. Lord Trentham fell behind her on the narrow path. “That’s good. Well done,” he called.The path ahead was a long, straight run. Planning to rein her in at the end, Eugenia leaned forward and urged the horse into a canter. Grey Dreamer needed little persuasion. She took off like an arrow. “Eugenia!” Lord Trentham called behind her. “Rein her in at once!”“What did you say, my lord?” Some minutes later, where the trail curved to the right, Grey Dreamer lunged left, perhaps spooked at the sight of a squirrel running along a bow overhead. They emerged onto a sunlit meadow bordered by a low fence. As the horse showed no inclination to slow, Eugenia hung on. Grey Dreamer aimed straight for the fence and jumped, landing hard on her stocky legs and juddering Eugenia’s chin. Then the horse slowed, ambled across to a small stream, and lowered her head to drink. Eugenia turned around to watch Lord Trentham’s beautiful stallion take the jump far more gracefully. He rode up to her. “You will be responsible for my relapse, Eugenia.” he said sounding cross.“Oh no, please don’t say it.” Filled with anxious remorse, while determined not to admit she’d lost control of her mount again, Eugenia followed his lordship through a gate. They trotted the horses back to the stables.Once in the stable yard, Lord Trentham dismounted and walked over to her. He held up his arms, and she leaned into him, breathing in his sandalwood soap. His grip tightened around her waist as he set her on her feet. “You heard me tell you to stop, did you not? You are a disobedient young woman, Eugenia,” he said, breathing heavily.“I hope you haven’t reopened your wound, my lord.” Chewing her lip, she reached up to open his coat.“Stop!” He grabbed her hand in his broad one. “Go and rid yourself of those outrageous clothes before my sister sees you,” he said in a stifled voice.“Yes, Lord Trentham,” she said in a meek tone. She climbed the stairs to the groom’s room. At the top, she glanced down at his lordship. He’d removed his hat and was raking his fingers through his glossy dark brown hair. “I am sorry,” she said again, when she came down dressed in her morning gown. “I do hope you’re all right. Perhaps you should not have cantered quite yet.”Mr. Pollitt coughed and disappeared into the stable.“I assure you, Eugenia, I’m perfectly capable of galloping and jumping a fence, should I wish to.” he said with a frown. “Come, let’s walk back to the house.”
Regency Romance Eugenia Hawthorne, daughter of a deceitful highwayman, saves the life of the Earl of Trentham after he’s deposited at her door suffering from a bullet wound. Outsmarting her father, the earl takes Eugenia to live in his beautiful country estate, Lilac Court. But what does he really want from her? It seems there’s a mystery attached to an emerald necklace, which he wishes her to wear at a London ball. Could Eugenia be the daughter of a powerful duke, but born on the wrong side of the blanket? Her mother refused to tell her. As Brendan, Earl of Trentham, works to bring down a hated foe, he and his sister instruct Eugenia in the ways of the ton. She is beautiful and, despite the cloud over her birth, will be desired by many men. Why doesn’t that prospect make him happy?
A Reader's Opinion
"The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter is indeed a Cinderella story with Eugenia as our young beauty and the Earl as her "prince." I was delighted to spend a few hours with the characters while they navigated their way through society's dos and don'ts, all in the name of hope and sweet romance."
Books & Benches
Pre-Order $0.99 Amazon
Amazon UK
Amazon AU
Smashwords
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
iBooks
Excerpt:
Eugenia Hawthorne is keen to impress her handsome new guardian with her riding skills.
The groom led out a short, solid grey horse. “This is Grey Dreamer, Miss Hawthorne.” He went to fetch the saddle.Dismayed, Eugenia stared at the horse. “I’m to ride a pony?” She’d been patting a tall chestnut gelding who had thrust his handsome head over the door of the box. “She looks half asleep.”His lordship threw back his head and laughed. “Then you shall wake her. Grey Dreamer is my stallion’s companion. Neal, please assist Miss Hawthorne to mount.”Eugenia eyed the sidesaddle. It looked impossibly foolish. “Can I not use an ordinary saddle?”His lordship shook his head. “That is unacceptable. And I’m losing patience.”With the groom’s help, she clambered onto the saddle and arranged her leg around the pommel. She took up the reins and reached for the crop, and then as his lordship mounted his stallion, she walked the animal out onto the cobblestones in the stable yard. Once out in the sunshine, Grey Dreamer appeared to droop. Eugenia nudged the animal in its round belly with the heel of her half boot. The grey came alive and took off down the carriage drive with his lordship yelling instructions behind her. The horse then lurched sideways onto the lawn, heading straight for the rose garden. “Whoa,” Eugenia cried, tugging on the reins. Her face burned with distress. What would his lordship think if she trampled his garden? With one final violent tug, she managed to steer the stubborn horse away from the roses and pull her up. Grey Dreamer bent her head, and with delicate precision, picked up a fallen rose, and munched it, a serene expression in her big brown eyes. “You are a fraud, Grey Dreamer,” Eugenia said with disgust. Lord Trentham joined her on his magnificent burnished gold stallion. “I’m glad you managed to stop the mare,” he said. “My head gardener would be livid if the horse attacked his prize roses.” He reached across and took the reins from her. “I can manage her, my lord,” she said, her face hot. “We shall not risk it, Eugenia. I don’t wish to face my sister’s wrath. And you might get hurt.”“You said I required instruction,” she said, dismayed. “Better here, surely, then amid a group of seasoned riders who will make me look foolish. Can we ride just a little way along the bridle path?” She was determined to show him she could ride well.He frowned. “It’s against my better judgment.”“Please?” She eyed him carefully. “I may lose my confidence and not be able to face the riders in Rotten Row.” He patted the neck of his horse, which had begun to nuzzle Grey Dreamer. “Oh very well,” he said at last. “I’ll lead your horse to the bridle path. I’m not about to put my gardens at further risk. I suspect Grey Dreamer has a fancy for roses.”Reaching the path, his lordship handed the reins to her. “Keep the horse to a walk, Eugenia.”Eugenia bit her lip. This was her chance. Walking along a path would prove nothing. A child could do it. She would be careful not to nudge the horse quite so hard this time. Grey Dreamer was foxing. The horse was far more awake than she made out. Perhaps she was not often ridden and wanted for exercise. A gentler tap with her crop had the mare in a trot. Lord Trentham fell behind her on the narrow path. “That’s good. Well done,” he called.The path ahead was a long, straight run. Planning to rein her in at the end, Eugenia leaned forward and urged the horse into a canter. Grey Dreamer needed little persuasion. She took off like an arrow. “Eugenia!” Lord Trentham called behind her. “Rein her in at once!”“What did you say, my lord?” Some minutes later, where the trail curved to the right, Grey Dreamer lunged left, perhaps spooked at the sight of a squirrel running along a bow overhead. They emerged onto a sunlit meadow bordered by a low fence. As the horse showed no inclination to slow, Eugenia hung on. Grey Dreamer aimed straight for the fence and jumped, landing hard on her stocky legs and juddering Eugenia’s chin. Then the horse slowed, ambled across to a small stream, and lowered her head to drink. Eugenia turned around to watch Lord Trentham’s beautiful stallion take the jump far more gracefully. He rode up to her. “You will be responsible for my relapse, Eugenia.” he said sounding cross.“Oh no, please don’t say it.” Filled with anxious remorse, while determined not to admit she’d lost control of her mount again, Eugenia followed his lordship through a gate. They trotted the horses back to the stables.Once in the stable yard, Lord Trentham dismounted and walked over to her. He held up his arms, and she leaned into him, breathing in his sandalwood soap. His grip tightened around her waist as he set her on her feet. “You heard me tell you to stop, did you not? You are a disobedient young woman, Eugenia,” he said, breathing heavily.“I hope you haven’t reopened your wound, my lord.” Chewing her lip, she reached up to open his coat.“Stop!” He grabbed her hand in his broad one. “Go and rid yourself of those outrageous clothes before my sister sees you,” he said in a stifled voice.“Yes, Lord Trentham,” she said in a meek tone. She climbed the stairs to the groom’s room. At the top, she glanced down at his lordship. He’d removed his hat and was raking his fingers through his glossy dark brown hair. “I am sorry,” she said again, when she came down dressed in her morning gown. “I do hope you’re all right. Perhaps you should not have cantered quite yet.”Mr. Pollitt coughed and disappeared into the stable.“I assure you, Eugenia, I’m perfectly capable of galloping and jumping a fence, should I wish to.” he said with a frown. “Come, let’s walk back to the house.”
July 11, 2016
Great review for THE SEDUCTION OF LADY CHARITY
Great review from InD'Tale Magazine for THE SEDUCTION OF LADY CHARITY - The Baxendale Sisters Book Four.
Charity Baxendale just wants to paint. She is not concerned about marriage because she’s afraid she will be forced to give up her dream of painting portraits. Robin, Lord Stanberry does not want to be a Duke, but when it is forced upon him, he realizes he needs a wife to help him in his new role. His first proposal to Lady Charity is disregarded, but Robin does not give up on his pursuit. Will his willingness pay off or will he be left holding the proverbial bag?“The Seduction of Lady Charity,” is a tale fraught with insecurities, friendship, hopes, dreams and quiet love. Maggi Andersen has created a wonderfully intriguing cast of characters. They are interesting, they have real depth, and they are likeable as well as relatable. Ms. Andersen is creative and has a gift with the written word. She is able to make her words jump from the pages of her books and come to life right before her reader’s eyes. Although a new spin on an old tale, there are enough twists and turns to make it distinctive. As the fourth book in the Baxendale Sisters series, “The Seduction of Lady Charity,” can stand alone but readers might find themselves returning to the first book of the series just to see what they might have missed from Ms. Andersen’s original stories.Mary-Nancy SmithInD’Tale Magazine
Amazon
Charity Baxendale just wants to paint. She is not concerned about marriage because she’s afraid she will be forced to give up her dream of painting portraits. Robin, Lord Stanberry does not want to be a Duke, but when it is forced upon him, he realizes he needs a wife to help him in his new role. His first proposal to Lady Charity is disregarded, but Robin does not give up on his pursuit. Will his willingness pay off or will he be left holding the proverbial bag?“The Seduction of Lady Charity,” is a tale fraught with insecurities, friendship, hopes, dreams and quiet love. Maggi Andersen has created a wonderfully intriguing cast of characters. They are interesting, they have real depth, and they are likeable as well as relatable. Ms. Andersen is creative and has a gift with the written word. She is able to make her words jump from the pages of her books and come to life right before her reader’s eyes. Although a new spin on an old tale, there are enough twists and turns to make it distinctive. As the fourth book in the Baxendale Sisters series, “The Seduction of Lady Charity,” can stand alone but readers might find themselves returning to the first book of the series just to see what they might have missed from Ms. Andersen’s original stories.Mary-Nancy SmithInD’Tale Magazine
Amazon
July 1, 2016
Released Today! DIARY OF A PAINTED LADY
Hi Readers,
Maggi here, talking about what inspired me to write my novel, DIARY OF A PAINTED LADY.
I’m a fan of black-and-white movies, especially those set in the Victorian era, such as Jane Eyre, Great Expectations, The Woman in White, Wuthering Heights, The Secret Garden and Gas Light.
I planned to write a Victorian Gothic romance, but after seeing the movie, The French Lieutenant’s Woman, I decided instead on a split era novel, set both in the contemporary world and in the Victorian era.
For research, I delved into my mother’s art books on the pre-Raphaelite artists of the 19th Century.
My historical heroine, Giovanna Russo is a model for her artist stepfather, Milo Russo. I envisaged his work to be similar to these fabulous artists.
John Everett Millais’ Ophelia
Lady Lilith by Dante Gabriel RossettiIn Victorian England, two powerful men desire the beautiful artist’s model Giovanna Russo. One is enchanted by her and decides to make her his mistress. The other wants her dead.
When Gina’s diary is discovered in a book shop over a century later, the murderer of her step-father, renowned pre-Raphaelite artist, Milo Russo, is revealed.
During the making of the movie, PAINTED LADY, based on the diary, two actors, Dylan Shaw and Astrid LeClair discover the meaning of true love.KINDLE UNLIMITEDAmazon:
Amazon.UK:
Amazon AU:
Amazon.CA.
Enjoy an Excerpt:Read a little about the two actors, Astrid LeClair and Dylan Shaw.
When she came down the stairs dressed in the Valentino black satin bustier dress with its billowing white taffeta underskirt, black stockings and Jimmy Choos shoes, Philippe finally smiled. “I’ve brought your diamonds.” He unlocked his valise and removed a blue-velvet lined box.
Later, at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden, they walked the red carpet with the flashes popping. Astrid had become better known in England. Fans leaned over the barricade and called to her. Journalists, curious to learn her plans for future movies, constantly interrupted their walk. Astrid gave them just enough. She had become adept at evading leading questions.
The awards were entertaining although Maureen lost to Tilda Swinton. At the after-party, Astrid introduced Philippe to her fellow actors, including Dylan who arrived with a blonde actress on his arm.
Astrid left Philippe who had met a French director he knew, and crossed the room to the hall that led to the powder room. A tall man in a black dinner suit stepped into her path. Dylan’s warm gaze brought that thrill rushing back making her heart beat faster.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
“Merci,” she said smiling. “You look very handsome.”
“Come and talk to me a while.”
Astrid shook her head. “Philippe—”
“Does he remind you of your dear Papa?”
She frowned. “You are very badly behaved.”
He shrugged. “Then I apologize.” If an apology, it was a poor one. Astrid was about to chastise him further but found she didn’t want to. She gazed over his shoulder at Philippe still in heated discussion.
“You make me want to be bad.” Dylan’s hand caught hers. He subtly stroked the inside of her wrist with a thumb. He must have known how her pulse raced. “I want to throw you over my shoulder and run off with you.”
“To your cave?” She managed a flippant tone, despite the charge of excitement at his touch. She stepped back, cautioning herself. She’d had several glasses of wine and her head felt woolly. She didn’t handle alcohol well. It relaxed her body and her resolve. The thought of slipping away with Dylan had become too much of a temptation.
More on Maggi’s Website:
Victorian Romance, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary Romance, Artists, 19th Century Art, Pears Soap, Maggi Andersen, Irish hero.
Maggi here, talking about what inspired me to write my novel, DIARY OF A PAINTED LADY.
I’m a fan of black-and-white movies, especially those set in the Victorian era, such as Jane Eyre, Great Expectations, The Woman in White, Wuthering Heights, The Secret Garden and Gas Light.
I planned to write a Victorian Gothic romance, but after seeing the movie, The French Lieutenant’s Woman, I decided instead on a split era novel, set both in the contemporary world and in the Victorian era.
For research, I delved into my mother’s art books on the pre-Raphaelite artists of the 19th Century.
My historical heroine, Giovanna Russo is a model for her artist stepfather, Milo Russo. I envisaged his work to be similar to these fabulous artists.
John Everett Millais’ Ophelia
Lady Lilith by Dante Gabriel RossettiIn Victorian England, two powerful men desire the beautiful artist’s model Giovanna Russo. One is enchanted by her and decides to make her his mistress. The other wants her dead.
When Gina’s diary is discovered in a book shop over a century later, the murderer of her step-father, renowned pre-Raphaelite artist, Milo Russo, is revealed.
During the making of the movie, PAINTED LADY, based on the diary, two actors, Dylan Shaw and Astrid LeClair discover the meaning of true love.KINDLE UNLIMITEDAmazon:
Amazon.UK:
Amazon AU:
Amazon.CA.
Enjoy an Excerpt:Read a little about the two actors, Astrid LeClair and Dylan Shaw.
When she came down the stairs dressed in the Valentino black satin bustier dress with its billowing white taffeta underskirt, black stockings and Jimmy Choos shoes, Philippe finally smiled. “I’ve brought your diamonds.” He unlocked his valise and removed a blue-velvet lined box.
Later, at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden, they walked the red carpet with the flashes popping. Astrid had become better known in England. Fans leaned over the barricade and called to her. Journalists, curious to learn her plans for future movies, constantly interrupted their walk. Astrid gave them just enough. She had become adept at evading leading questions.
The awards were entertaining although Maureen lost to Tilda Swinton. At the after-party, Astrid introduced Philippe to her fellow actors, including Dylan who arrived with a blonde actress on his arm.
Astrid left Philippe who had met a French director he knew, and crossed the room to the hall that led to the powder room. A tall man in a black dinner suit stepped into her path. Dylan’s warm gaze brought that thrill rushing back making her heart beat faster.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
“Merci,” she said smiling. “You look very handsome.”
“Come and talk to me a while.”
Astrid shook her head. “Philippe—”
“Does he remind you of your dear Papa?”
She frowned. “You are very badly behaved.”
He shrugged. “Then I apologize.” If an apology, it was a poor one. Astrid was about to chastise him further but found she didn’t want to. She gazed over his shoulder at Philippe still in heated discussion.
“You make me want to be bad.” Dylan’s hand caught hers. He subtly stroked the inside of her wrist with a thumb. He must have known how her pulse raced. “I want to throw you over my shoulder and run off with you.”
“To your cave?” She managed a flippant tone, despite the charge of excitement at his touch. She stepped back, cautioning herself. She’d had several glasses of wine and her head felt woolly. She didn’t handle alcohol well. It relaxed her body and her resolve. The thought of slipping away with Dylan had become too much of a temptation.
More on Maggi’s Website:
Victorian Romance, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary Romance, Artists, 19th Century Art, Pears Soap, Maggi Andersen, Irish hero.
June 19, 2016
106 Free romance Ebooks and a Giveaway!
Self-Publishing Round-table.Prizes!US Giveaway:
1 x Kindle Paperwhite
1 x $50 Amazon Gift Card
UK Giveaway:
1 x Kindle Paperwhite
1 x £25 Amazon Gift Card
June 18, 2016
Caroline and the Captain - A Regency Novella
PUBLISHED! 0.99!
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Captain Nicholas Bonham of Wellington’s Peninsular Regiment, the 52nd Light Infantry, returns from fighting the Napoleonic wars to see his brother laid to rest. A skilled rider, George’s death remains a mystery, as does the parlous state of his finances. Debenham Park must be sold unless Nicholas can find a swift solution. George’s former fiancée, Miss Caroline Mirringham, harbors a secret. She has trusted no man except her father and George, and now considers her future to be a desolate one. When her father proposes that Caroline marry Nicholas, she is filled with dread. The captain is nothing like his amiable brother. He looks altogether too strong and harsh. He would demand far more from her than she could give.
Excerpt:
When Caroline arrived at Debenham Park with her parents, the mourner’s carriages were lined up along the gravel drive. The rambling stone house, which she’d begun to think of as her home, looked unfamiliar and unwelcoming, as if George’s spirit had left it. Inside the long drawing room, everyone gathered in a quiet huddle while food and drink was served by the sober-faced servants. She knew every member of the staff. They had suffered a sad loss too. George was universally liked.The new earl stood with his Aunt Henrietta, holding a glass of Scotch, while recalling episodes from his and George’s childhood, his mellow baritone voice at odds with the stark expression in his eyes. Caroline stood close enough to hear him praise George: his love of horses and his skill at riding to hounds. The earl recalled how George had ridden bareback from an early age. “Taught me a few riding tricks too,” Lord Debenham said. “They came in handy at times on the Peninsular.” Two of the guests standing behind her spoke of how strange it was that this had been George’s ultimate demise. “A woman can be a dangerous distraction,” one gentleman said. Caroline flushed angrily and turned to glare at him. He had the grace to look shamefaced. She despised the opinionated men of the beau monde. She’d never met one she liked except George. George’s brother had given her little reason to warm to him, either. When the captain spoke of his brother, his taut features softened. Seeing him vulnerable had a disturbing effect on her. George could never have been called handsome, but Nicholas undoubtedly was. Even while he stood with a glass in his hand, he seemed like a coiled spring. He tightened his chiseled jaw when he glanced at her, and his brown eyes drilled into hers, causing a nervous stirring deep in her belly. Caroline smiled at Harold, the house’s lone footman, who, like Kettle, the butler, had been in service at Debenham Park for many years. She refused his offered plate of food, fearing her stomach would reject it. The image of George lying dead still flashed into her consciousness. A vigorous rider forever stilled. Her fingers trembled and she put down the crystal tumbler of lemonade on a table. Would that image never fade? It might be easier if she didn’t meet Nicholas Debenham again. She calmed herself with the realization that as her father hardly ever attended parliament and then only the Commons, he was unlikely to run into Lord Debenham. He rarely went to London these days preferring to remain in the country. It was unlikely she’d meet the earl socially here either so her withdrawal from society could continue undisturbed.
June 3, 2016
Destiny, Love. DIARY OF A PAINTED LADY Available on Pre-Order
DIARY OF A PAINTED LADY
Pre-OrderReleased 1 July 2016In Victorian England, beautiful artist’s model Giovanna Russo is desired by two powerful men. One is enchanted by her and decides to make her his mistress. The other wants her dead.
When Gina’s diary is discovered over a century later, it reveals the secret of her step-father, renowned pre-Raphaelite artist, Milo Russo’s untimely death, struck down at the height of his fame.
When actors, Dylan Shaw and Astrid LeClair make the movie Painted Lady, based on the diary, they discover through Gina’s story the meaning of true love.
Amazon
Amazon UK
Amazon AU
Tyranny, Destiny, Love. DIARY OF A PAINTED LADY Available on Pre-Order
DIARY OF A PAINTED LADY
Pre-OrderReleased 1 July 2016In Victorian England, beautiful artist’s model Giovanna Russo is desired by two powerful men. One is enchanted by her and decides to make her his mistress. The other wants her dead.
When Gina’s diary is discovered over a century later, it reveals the secret of her step-father, renowned pre-Raphaelite artist, Milo Russo’s untimely death, struck down at the height of his fame.
When actors, Dylan Shaw and Astrid LeClair make the movie Painted Lady, based on the diary, they discover through Gina’s story the meaning of true love.
Amazon
Amazon UK
Amazon AU
May 23, 2016
Peers and the Peerage by Maggi Andersen
I researched into Peers and the Peerage when writing my “friends to lovers” story, THE SEDUCTION OF LADY CHARITY.
In the case where there is no son or heir, the heir presumptive succeeds. After the funeral and the executor had dealt with the will, the heir presumptive must then petition the Lord Chancellor for a writ of summons. He has to prove how he is related to the deceased, and that he and his father and all others between him and the deceased were legitimate and were dead. Once the proofs are accepted the new peer is sent a writ of summons.
When another person makes a claim the case must be heard by the Committee on Privilege of the House of Lords. Each claimant must then prove his case by showing his relationship to the deceased and the ancestor they had in common.
Lord Robin Stanberry becomes the Duke of Harwood after a family tragedy, a position he was not prepared for. He leaves all he knows behind for a castle and a vast estate in Northumberland. And it now seems that the woman he believes to be his soul mate will never be his wife.
Lady Charity Baxendale is determined to realize her dream of becoming a renowned portrait artist, and when she paints the portrait of a rakish Scottish baron, Robins suffers paroxysms of jealousy.
As he begins to discover how he can use his newly entrusted power for good, a new claimant on the title appears.
Amazon
Enjoy an excerpt:
Harwood Castle, Northumberland
Robin walked with Charity along the corridor. She paused to examine a fine tapestry depicting a hunt. “Your new home is magnificent.”
He smiled, pleased. “You haven’t seen much of it, yet.”
“I would very much like to see the gardens; their beauty is renowned.”
“Then you shall.” He directed her into the library, feeling ridiculously delighted to be able to share it with her.
“Oh, this is breathtaking.” Charity turned slowly on the Aubusson carpet, her arm gesture encompassing the rows of bookshelves reaching almost to the high-coffered ceiling.
She strolled across and turned the world globe on its stand. “Have you been well?”
Robin was still reeling from the explosion of feeling he’d suffered at the sight of her in his salon. He walked up behind her and forced himself to stop a few feet away, admiring her elegant back in the cream velvet spencer and the way the blue dress skimmed her hips. Her dark blonde hair was swept up from her tender nape. He could so easily shape her waist with his hands and draw her against him. Wasn’t that why he’d angled to get her alone? “Why, I am the very ‘pinke of curtesie,’” he said, quoting Romeo and Juliet. “And you?”
She turned, and they were almost at kissing distance. Her cheeks grew pink. Did he imagine something passed between them beyond an appreciation for Shakespeare? His blood thudded through his veins. Might he dare hope that she would reconsider his proposal? No, now was not the time to risk his heart again and be rebuffed out of hand. For that would leave him defeated. And it would finish things between them.
She straightened her shoulders. “Now, where are these books?” she said briskly, reminding him of a governess talking to her charge.
He strolled over to a table. “These are some I’ve been perusing. I would have ferreted out more had I known you would call.”
She bent her head, absorbed, flicking through each book. “Look at these wonderful botanical drawings. Breathtaking!” Was she enamored of that annoying Scot or merely grateful? Her recent success might make her even more determined to concentrate on her art. Any move on his part now would be unwise. He would have to woo her—remind her of their interests in common that she was unlikely to share with Gunn. At least the baron was not here in Northumberland. Robin would have her to himself for a while.
She chose two of the books and hugged them to her chest, foiling his view of her rounded breasts. “Thank you for these. I shall enjoy them and have them sent back.”
Sent back? Not on your life, he thought. “No need. I’ll come to you. I’d like to see your parents again.”
I also had to research castles.There are so many beautiful castles in England and Ireland. Do you have a favorite? Here’s one of mine.Bodiam castle in Sussex was built from 1385 by Sir Edward Dalyngrigge.
Wikipedia Commons
In the case where there is no son or heir, the heir presumptive succeeds. After the funeral and the executor had dealt with the will, the heir presumptive must then petition the Lord Chancellor for a writ of summons. He has to prove how he is related to the deceased, and that he and his father and all others between him and the deceased were legitimate and were dead. Once the proofs are accepted the new peer is sent a writ of summons.
When another person makes a claim the case must be heard by the Committee on Privilege of the House of Lords. Each claimant must then prove his case by showing his relationship to the deceased and the ancestor they had in common.
Lord Robin Stanberry becomes the Duke of Harwood after a family tragedy, a position he was not prepared for. He leaves all he knows behind for a castle and a vast estate in Northumberland. And it now seems that the woman he believes to be his soul mate will never be his wife.
Lady Charity Baxendale is determined to realize her dream of becoming a renowned portrait artist, and when she paints the portrait of a rakish Scottish baron, Robins suffers paroxysms of jealousy.
As he begins to discover how he can use his newly entrusted power for good, a new claimant on the title appears.
Amazon
Enjoy an excerpt:
Harwood Castle, Northumberland
Robin walked with Charity along the corridor. She paused to examine a fine tapestry depicting a hunt. “Your new home is magnificent.”
He smiled, pleased. “You haven’t seen much of it, yet.”
“I would very much like to see the gardens; their beauty is renowned.”
“Then you shall.” He directed her into the library, feeling ridiculously delighted to be able to share it with her.
“Oh, this is breathtaking.” Charity turned slowly on the Aubusson carpet, her arm gesture encompassing the rows of bookshelves reaching almost to the high-coffered ceiling.
She strolled across and turned the world globe on its stand. “Have you been well?”
Robin was still reeling from the explosion of feeling he’d suffered at the sight of her in his salon. He walked up behind her and forced himself to stop a few feet away, admiring her elegant back in the cream velvet spencer and the way the blue dress skimmed her hips. Her dark blonde hair was swept up from her tender nape. He could so easily shape her waist with his hands and draw her against him. Wasn’t that why he’d angled to get her alone? “Why, I am the very ‘pinke of curtesie,’” he said, quoting Romeo and Juliet. “And you?”
She turned, and they were almost at kissing distance. Her cheeks grew pink. Did he imagine something passed between them beyond an appreciation for Shakespeare? His blood thudded through his veins. Might he dare hope that she would reconsider his proposal? No, now was not the time to risk his heart again and be rebuffed out of hand. For that would leave him defeated. And it would finish things between them.
She straightened her shoulders. “Now, where are these books?” she said briskly, reminding him of a governess talking to her charge.
He strolled over to a table. “These are some I’ve been perusing. I would have ferreted out more had I known you would call.”
She bent her head, absorbed, flicking through each book. “Look at these wonderful botanical drawings. Breathtaking!” Was she enamored of that annoying Scot or merely grateful? Her recent success might make her even more determined to concentrate on her art. Any move on his part now would be unwise. He would have to woo her—remind her of their interests in common that she was unlikely to share with Gunn. At least the baron was not here in Northumberland. Robin would have her to himself for a while.
She chose two of the books and hugged them to her chest, foiling his view of her rounded breasts. “Thank you for these. I shall enjoy them and have them sent back.”
Sent back? Not on your life, he thought. “No need. I’ll come to you. I’d like to see your parents again.”
I also had to research castles.There are so many beautiful castles in England and Ireland. Do you have a favorite? Here’s one of mine.Bodiam castle in Sussex was built from 1385 by Sir Edward Dalyngrigge.
Wikipedia Commons
May 17, 2016
Shopping in Regency London Part I
[image error]When My Regency Heroines Go ShoppingBy Maggi Andersen
Burlington Arcade opened to great acclaim in 1819. Situated between Piccadilly and Old Burlington in the heart of Mayfair, London, Burlington Arcade was originally a covered mall of small exclusive shops. And unique to the mall, they had the oldest and smallest police force in the world, the Burlington Beadles. Lord George Cavendish, younger brother of the 5th Duke of Devonshire, later Earl of Burlington, built one of Britain’s earliest shopping arcades after he inherited the adjacent Burlington House. The mall was erected on what had been the side garden of Burlington House, reputedly to prevent passers-by throwing oyster shells and other rubbish over the wall of his home, ‘for the sale of jewelry and fancy articles of fashionable demand, for the gratification of the public’. Since then, it has been patrolled by the Burlington Beadles who uphold a strict code of conduct dating from Regency times. Originally recruited by Lord Cavendish from his regiment The Royal Hussars, the Beadles still wear their uniform of Victorian frock coats, gold buttons and gold-braided top hats.
The arcade originally housed seventy-two small two story shops, selling all kinds of hats, hosiery, gloves, linen, shoes jewelry, lace, walking sticks, cigars, flowers, glassware, wine and watches. Many of the shopkeepers lived either above or below their shops and in the early days, the upper level of the arcade had quite a reputation for prostitution.
Pimps used to burst into song or whistle to warn prostitutes who were soliciting in the arcade that the police or Beadles were about. The prostitutes working on the upper level would also whistle to the pickpockets below to warn them of approaching police. The Burlington Beadles still enforce the rules and even today, singing and whistling are two activities banned from the arcade. Rumor has it, however, that Sir Paul McCartney is the only person currently exempt from the ban on whistling....
Above: Burlington Arcade todayRegency ladies must have been delighted with what Burlington Arcade had to offer:
“I must go,” Althea said, putting down her napkin and standing. “I promised to escort my aunt to the new Burlington Arcade in Piccadilly. She is keen to visit the shops. There’s so many of them!”“It’s quite extraordinary,” Horatia said. “Everything one might need is there.”
TAMING A GENTLEMAN SPY - The Spies of Mayfair Book 2Available in e-book and printComing next: Shopping in Oxford Street and an excerpt from THE EARL AND THE HIGHWAYMAN'S DAUGHTER Released July
