Cerise DeLand's Blog, page 24

This Armistice Day remember #women in #Army #Nurse #Corps, Doughboys of #WWI

In April 1917 thousands of American  nurses volunteered to join the Army Nurse Corps to care for wounded soldiers going abroad to fight in the trenches in Europe. HEROIC MEASURES is the tale of a few of those women who offered their skills—and discovered the extent of their own courage and the value of love.

EXCERPT OF HEROIC MEASURES: Amazon:      http://amzn.to/1dWojVz   digital                      http://amzn.to/1f30XAx    printWhen she did return to the tent, she had Colonel Scott in tow. She’d told him nothing except their German was now awake, aware and spoke English. She thought it best to let the officer discern the veracity of the man.“Nurse Spencer tells me you speak our language. Might I ask you where you learned it?”“At my mother’s knee, Colonel. Captain Adam Fairleigh, His Majesty’s Forces. Forgive me, sir, I would greet you appropriately but our erstwhile nurse has strapped me to the bed.”“Then you must need restraining,” Scott replied. “What the hell is this that you say you’re with the Brits?”“I am, sir. I am attached to General Pershing’s staff, Chaumont.” Operating Room, World War I Museum,
Kansas City, Kansas“As what? How do you speak Hun so well and why in God’s name are you in one of their uniforms?”Fairleigh arched both brows, looking at the short American down his very elegant straight nose. “Liaison to the American Commander, sir. Since December. I speak excellent German because my maternal grandmother came from Saxe-Coburg, the same principality as our late Prince Albert. I speak German, sir, as well as I do English. Before the war, that was no crime, but an asset.”“I see. And how do you come by this uniform?”Their patient was no longer so quick or cocky. “I took it off a dead man.”Gwen swallowed hard at the savage image of this man removing clothing from a corpse.“I had managed to crawl across a zone where they were not shelling. I thought if I could reach one of their forward trench lines, then I—”“Preposterous. How did you get that far in your own uniform?”“I went in peasants’ rags. Our lines abut an old village where only a few huts still stand.”“Why discard your rags for a German captain’s uniform?”“Well, sir, he was not only dead but conveniently my size.”That shut the man up.Gwen could only marvel at this creature in the bed.“When I came upon their trench, I could hear their conversation below. Luck was with me. That bunker was a communications center. If I could get in there, I might learn quite enough to make my mission worthwhile. Of course, I couldn’t do that, couldn’t speak German to them and have them believe I was one of them if I wore French farmer’s culottes, could I? So I crept around…among their dead whose bodies they had not retrieved.” He stared at the American with blank eyes. “I happened upon the captain who seemed my height. Then I waited until night fell and—”He halted, regarding Gwen once more. “I buried my rags and crawled into their trench. They accepted my story. I was privy to their orders that were to move their gun emplacements. Then, as you can expect, I was stuck with them, considered one of them. I had to run with them. I had no opportunity to escape until two nights later when the French opened a barrage in our sector.” Church used as ARMY FIELD HOSPITAL #1, France,
June 16, 1918He lifted a hand, let it drop to the sheets. “I managed to hang back when they retreated with their line. I set out to No Man’s Land and prayed to Christ I’d find my way across to French lines. This took me…I’m not clear. A night. Two?” He shrugged. “Here I am.”“Who is your American liaison in Pershing’s staff?”“Colonel Samuel Rustings.”Scott nodded, a hint of a smile curling his lips. “I see.”“I gather you know him.”“Same class at West Point.”“Well, then. If you telegraph him, he will verify who I am and my mission. He knew I went out, you see.”“A man from headquarters is already on his way here.”“Splendid.”“We thought we had ourselves a Heinie.”The man’s mouth quirked in bitterness. “Sorry to disappoint you.”“Oh, you’ll do, sir. What did you say your name was?”Gwen noticed that Scott had not addressed him by his rank.“Fairleigh.”“We’ll see what our man from Chaumont has to say about you. In the meantime, my private is outside the tent.”Fairleigh inclined his head in acknowledgement of his warder.“Nurse. Finish up here. Untie him. ”“Thank you, Sir.”“Good day, then.”When Scott had departed, Fairleigh regarded her with appraising eyes. “What is your name?”“Spencer.”“Nice name. Spencer.”“Thank you.” She pulled her cart closer to his bed. No matter who he was, he was to be made whole as efficiently as she could.“I am sorry, Spencer, for being an ass.”She saw on his face honest contrition. Unaccustomed to apologies from those who insulted her, she had no reason to trust the value of his. Yet she gave him credit for the courtesy of it. He had done such a brave act. What kind of man would do as he had done? A fool. An opportunist. A man who saw this was work which he and he alone was best suited for? Was that hubris? Cunning? Or duty? If indeed, he had done it. If he hadn’t lied.“Spencer, I am grateful for your help. Please do patch me up. I’d hate to lose my hands because I lacked good manners.”He was making conversation to heal their rift. She picked through her gauze looking for the needle she had misplaced when she had left him. Brusqueness served her where experience did not. “Lie back then and be good.”“Chilly. Do you they teach you to be frosty like that in America?”“Yes.”He feigned a shiver.She fought a smile. “Put that spoon between your teeth. This needle will hurt.”“I wager it will hurt less than your German. You should have warned me that it was so bad.”“Careful.” Fingering her needle, she began to thread the eye. “You need me to be gentle as I sew. Besides,”—she could taunt him now that he was rational and at her mercy—“I doubt I’ll ever sing with you again.”“I will endeavor to ensure you do.”His attempt to charm her flattered her. She would do well to ignore it. “This is war, sir. Neither of us has the time.”“Then sing to me instead.” “When I put my needle in your skin, I will hear you sing and off key, too.” She threatened him, hiding all the humor his compliment inspired. “The spoon, sir. Now!” AMERICAN CEMETERY, BELLEAU WOOD, FRANCE
A portion of the cemetery.
Cerise's photograph BUY LINKS for HEROIC MEASURES:


Amazon:      http://amzn.to/1dWojVz   digital                      http://amzn.to/1f30XAx    printNOOK     KOBO      iTunes       Allromanceebooks.com      Wild Rose Press

Celebrate Armistice Day with a SEAL by @BrennaZinn on Cerise's Military Month blog!

 Hot Navy SEALs – SEALs on Fire Anthology
   Like peanut butter and jelly, the combination of sexy Navy SEALs and romance seem perfectly matched. After all, who doesn’t like reading about a handsome and brave SEAL? 
You know, the type of man who is out saving the universe and is hard to catch, let alone hard to hold. 
But what if you add an amazing heroine who is harder to catch?  
For Navy SEAL, Michael Baudine, code name Midas, a hard to catch women like Angela Summers is just the kind of challenge he can’t resist. Angie, the daughter of 80s rock-and-roll legend Bussey Stevens, who is living incognito and working at Naval Station Rota Spain, has to avoid being discovered to keep her identity under wraps.  And hanging around a sexy as sin Navy SEAL who won’t take no for an answer simply won’t do.   Touched by Midas is the fourth book in the SEALs Going Hot series with Desiree Holt, Cerise Deland and Samantha Cayto, and the fun and sexy kind of read that will have you laughing, as well as looking for a Navy SEAL to call your own.  Here are direct links to purchase your own copy of Touched by Midas!AmazonBarnes and NobleAll Romance e-Books   Leave a comment below for a chance to win a copy of my other Navy SEAL book, Dagger’s Edge.  Good luck!Here’s a little taste of Touched by Midas…   How did nice girls survive? How did they resist the sexual magnetism of guys like Midas long enough to find the kind of man they could have a real relationship with? The seductive SEAL with the charming smile could make even a nun think twice about her vows, let alone a world-weary bitch trying to redeem herself.   “Sorry,” Angie heard herself say before the last of her restraint gave way. She turned and started walking, avoiding any further tax to her self-control.   “You think I’m not good enough for you?”   His question halted her foot mid-step. Of all the things he could have said, he’d found the one she couldn’t ignore. The one that suggested she was still the unkind woman of her youth. The girl who used people as much as they used her.   Biting a lip, she released a long sigh and made an about face.   “No. I don’t think you’re not good enough for me.”   “That’s easy enough to say, but harder to prove. Go out with me. Show me that your words are worth something.”   So many thoughts swirled through her mind. Some snarky and downright mean. Others a complete abdication to the power that was Midas. But before she could decide which one to toss out, the sailor threw down the gauntlet.   “I’ve got tickets to see Stereo Arsenal next week,” he said, coming closer. “Go with me. Be my date to what will probably be the show of the year on base.”   The mention of her father’s band broke the hold Midas had on her. No way she’d go and be recognized by one of the band members, roadies or fans. She’d already made arrangements for a few hours of private time with her parents while they were in Rota. That visit alone could compromise her identity.   “Sorry, buddy. No can do. I’m really not a fan of rock-and-roll.”   “Not a fan of rock and roll?” His eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “How is that even possible? Don’t you know that Stereo Arsenal is one of the best bands from the 80s? These guys sold more albums and had more top-ten hits than anyone else in their genre. They’re classic. Just scoring tickets for the show was a major coup.”   She couldn’t help the pride swelling her chest. Her father might be the leader of the madhouse, but he and the band had worked hard to rise to the top. They deserved every accolade they received.   “I don’t want to go to the concert by myself,” he persisted, increasing the wattage to his dazzling smile. “Prove your words are more than just sounds coming from those pretty lips.”   “Please.” She rolled her eyes. “There are dozens of beautiful women in Rota who would love to be your date. Maybe you should ask one of them.”   “You’re the only person I’m interested in. You have been for a while.”   She’d heard a lot of pickup lines in her lifetime, but the one he just spouted had to be one of the best. It even had her jaded heart fluttering. The man was more than just a handsome face. He had skills, she’d give him that.   A small car turned a corner and headed in their direction. Midas grabbed her hand, leading her from the street to a long stretch of grass outlining the marina. Across the bay, the lights from Cadiz twinkled like stars against the water. The delicious smells of cooking food and sweet sangria scented the air.   The whole tableau around her was becoming a little too romantic for her liking. Midas wasn’t the long-lasting relationship-type she was searching for. He was sexy, the love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy, who basked in the glow of conquering prey and climbing his way to the top of the adoration mountain. She’d seen him around his friends. He liked to be the leader of the pack, numero uno, the man in the limelight. God only knew what he would do if he ever found out her real identity. Most likely sell the story to some trashy celebrity magazine, where his handsome face could be on display for the entire world to see and admire.   The strong desire to bed the SEAL who thought the sun rose and set on his ass and then knocking him down to the size of a handheld bobble head tempted like crack cocaine to a recovering drug addict. Clearly she still had more work to do in the Mother Teresa department. The sooner she could make her getaway, the better.   “Do us both a favor and take no for my answer. Trust me, it’s for the best.” Once again, she tried to pull away from his grasp, but this time he not only held tight, he clasped his free hand on their entwined fingers.   “Tell you what,” he said, inching closer. “The Rota feria is happening this weekend. Go with me to the fair tomorrow night. If it’s not the best date you’ve ever had, I’ll never ask you out again. I’ll leave you alone to the fabulous life you seem to be enjoying so much.”   A light whiff of his intoxicating cologne wafted from his warm body, clouding her already impaired senses. Shivers rippled down her back and up her quaking legs, meeting in her belly where they loop-de-looped as though on a roller coaster. Between her legs a familiar ache pulsed. She’d been without a man—the right man—for too long.  “And if it is the best date?” Her voice sounded strangled. How could she possibly concentrate with so much testosterone and lust inundating her sensibilities?   “Then you go to the concert with me. I’ll show you just how good rock-and-roll can be.”   Thank God she had a little control of her faculties, otherwise she would have burst out laughing. She knew exactly how good andhow bad rock-and-roll could be.   The offer he put before her was tempting. Midas had given her a golden opportunity to finally get him out of her hair for good.   Little did he know she’d dated some of the legends of the silver screen, as well as the music scene. Dozens of men had wooed her with fancy meals, trips and the like. The odds of the Navy SEAL standing before her besting her previous dates were so minuscule that not even a down-and-out Vegas bookie would consider making odds.   “You’re saying you’ll never bother me again if I do this?” She leaned back to gauge the expression on his face. He was so irritably good looking and beguiling, would she even be able to tell if he was lying? “You’ll stop asking me out if I go to the fair with you and don’t have the date of the century?”   “As long as you promise to give me a fair chance and are one-hundred percent honest with me once the date is over. Honesty is extremely important to me, just so you know.” He released her hand and held up two fingers. “If you’ll do that, then you have my solemn promise. Scouts honor.”   Agreeing had to be a mistake. Most likely there was some kind of catch or trick she couldn’t see through. There couldn’t be a way to make a night at a simple fair in Rota, Spain the best night of her entire life. No freaking way.   “Fine.” She dug in her purse for a scrap of paper and a pen. When she finished writing her address, she held out the ripped slip. He reached for it, but she yanked back the paper.         "Promise me one more time. If I tell you honestly that you didn’t best any of my previous dates, we are done. No more accidently meeting me on base. No more holding doors open.    No more anything.”   Midas snatched the slip from her grasp and grinned. “You just worry about where you want to eat before the concert. I’m a man who never loses.”
Brenna Zinn Bio and Contact Information
I remember reading about Texas in an Illinois grade school and thinking I probably would never see the great state where real cowboys ride their horses to work every day and everyone wears western hats and boots. Then again, I never dreamed I would elope in Gibraltar with a Navy man who hailed from the Lone Star state. But here I am, smack dab in the middle of Texas, still married to the same wonderful man and boasting not only the greatest daughter on the planet, but three dogs that are as big as long horns.
In between grade school and now, my journey through life has taken me all over the United States, as well as many places throughout the world. Using my travel experience as a guide and peppering in interesting characters I’ve met along the way, I love nothing better than weaving tales of romance and leaving readers yearning for adventures of their own.
Write me at Brenna.Zinn@gmail.com and ask to be a subscriber to my newsletter.  You’ll find out all the latest FIRST!http://www.brennazinn.comhttps://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001156437143https://twitter.com/BrennaZinn
https://www.goodreads.com/Brenna_Zinn

WET HEAT with a SEAL? @DesireeHolt has it at Cerise's Military Month here!

It was supposed to be a month in a cottage by the lake in Maine. For Peyton Gerard it was time to recover from not one but three disastrous breakups and try to find her muse again. A successful romance novelist needed to believe in romance to write about it believably, and Peyton had lost her faith in it.For Dixon “Dix” Amendola it was supposed to be time to rehab his injured thigh from a SEALs mission that fell apart, to mourn the two team members who were killed and to deal with his guilt. Learning the mission had been compromised did nothing to ease the burden of blame he carried.The problem: the cottage had been rented to both of them by accident.Put two stubborn people in close quarters—a hot SEAL and a an appealing author, add in moonlit nights by the lake and suddenly they don’t mind sharing. But then reality intruded, Dix returned to lead a repeat of the mission and all Peyton could do was pray it was successAMAZON BUY LINK for WET HEAT Excerpt! Copyright 2015, Desiree Holt. All rights reserved.
Eileen opened the folder she carried. “I have both leases and both checks right here with me. Fortunately we hadn’t made today’s deposit yet. Whichever one of you is willing to look at some other fantastic places I’ve got available, I’ll tear up the contract and rent you any place you want at the same rate.”“That won’t be me,” Dix said immediately.“Nor me,” the redhead said, her chin set in a stubborn line. She looked from one to the other. “My family rented this cottage for years. I practically grew up here. I should get first dibs.”Under other circumstances Dix might just have acquiesced. After all, one place was probably as good as another. But he was mentally distraught, he’d just driven seven hours to get here and he wanted nothing more than to unpack, unwind and get on with rehabbing his body and his brain. Here. Right here.He folded his arms, mimicking her stance. “Well, see, that’s a problem, because I have no intention of leaving.”Eileen looked from one to the other. “You have no idea how terrible I feel about this but we have to come to some type of agreement here.”Dix sighed. He just wanted to unpack and go sit on the dock. He had the kernel of an absurd idea taking root in his brain, one he was sure he’d go to hell for, but he wasn’t about to start looking at other places. He was done for the day.  “Let’s take a look inside,” he suggested.“What good will that do?” the redhead asked. “I want to see it,” he repeated stubbornly. “Maybe I want to see what I might be giving up.” As if.“Fine.” She turned around, unlocked he door and opened it. “Come on in then.”Dix felt at home the minute he walked inside. A feeling of peace he hadn’t felt in weeks stole quietly over him. This was exactly what he was looking for. There was absolutely no way he as giving this up. He walked through it slowly, taking in every bit of it. Comfortable furniture, a lot of wood, lots of windows. The porch had obviously been remodeled to serve as both a dining room and a kitchen. A partially open door gave onto a bedroom. He noticed the redhead’s clothes strewn on the bed. Immediately an image popped into his brain of her without any clothes on at all, those lush curves so naked and tempting. Shit, Dix. Stay out of trouble. Another door opened to an also obviously renovated bathroom. No tub but a large shower he was itching to jump into. Certainly a cold one if he didn’t change the direction of his thoughts and if his cock didn’t stop begging to have fun.He pointed to the narrow staircase along one wall. “Where does that lead?”“To the second bedroom,” Eileen told him. “It’s nice and big. Runs the entire length of the second floor.” She looked from one to the other, calmer than when she first arrived. “I can’t apologize enough for the mess. We’re usually much more organized than this, I promise you.”The redhead gave an unladylike snort. He was obviously crazy because even that sounded sexy to him.Dix walked to the big eat-in kitchen at the front of the cottage and stood looking out the windows. The lake was bathed in late afternoon sun, the golden light reflected on the water. There was a smattering of boats out there, people paddling or rowing (people still rowed?), a couple of boats with outboard motors further out. It was so damn peaceful out  here, exactly the environment he was looking for. He turned to look at Eileen and the other woman. I have to be crazy. Just fucking crazy. Someone shoot me. Please.“We’ll both take it,” he said.“What?” the redhead screeched. “Are you for real?” She gave her head a vehement shake. “No way, Jose. Nuh uh. Nein. Not happening.”“Well, it appears neither of us is planning to leave so what else do you suggest? There’s plenty of room.” He gestured around the space. “I’ll take the upstairs. You can have the bedroom down since you’ve already appropriated it. We can have a schedule for the bathroom.”She stared at him. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not staying here with you.” “Okay, then. I guess you’re leaving, right?”

DELTA FORCE hottie for Armistice Day? @cerisedeland for MILITARY MONTH!

 
AMAZON BUY LINK:  http://amzn.to/t63xpb November 11 is coming and you need to do your patriotic duty and invite a military man into your home, right?
   Try A LONG TIME COMIN' which is my story about a long friendship turned love affair for a Delta Force soldier and the woman he wants to love.

The set up?      A sex toy party with her six sassy gal pals? Caitlyn Hagerty is IN! Getting that tingly feeling just looking at the goodies, Cait buys four and screws up her courage to commit to one dynamite plan. She’ll show them to the only man in her life she gets all hot and wet for–and who has no idea he’s the one man she’s craved for too damn long. When Delta Force hunk John Ramos flies home on R&R, Cait promises herself to seduce Ram–or cut him from her life forever.   Ram spots the risque items on Cait’s bed and realizes his claim of her voluptuous body has been too long comin’.   It’s time to treat her right. Fess up to what he’s wanted all these years. Take Cait into his chaotic life–for one wild night.    And if she wants more?   She has to know that time is not on their side. Right? A nibble of my newest cherry: (Copyright 2011, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.) Two reasons why you must tempt John Ramos to be your lover? Quick! Remember those? Come on, woman!Fidgeting, Caitlyn Hagerty spied Ram at the top of the escalator in the arrival terminal at San Antonio Airport and her heart skipped a beat. Two reasons, Cait! You know them. The first is no one else makes your heart melt and…Ram grinned at her as he drew closer and Cait felt the punch in her gut that she always did when she first saw him on arrival home. Though he never declared it outright she knew he was Army, Delta Force, super-duper secret soldier, here today, gone tomorrow. But no matter what he was in his professional life, he remained her childhood friend and over the past few years, she had fallen crazy in love with him.  Who knew when. She knew why though she’d never told him, never tried. Courage fled every time she began.But not tonight.She waved at him, eager to get her seduction of him started.Are you nuts, girl?No. Absolutely not. Her eyes scanned his massive terminator body and her own flooded with wet desire. He was a sight for her hungry eyes. Big, bold and confidant, Ram was an appropriate nickname for a man who dominated any room and always got what he wanted. Tonight, unlike his last R&R, he looked less like a skinhead gladiator and more like a scrumptious businessman whose hobby was bodybuilding. He had grown his black hair out so that it curled at his nape. He wore civilian clothes, too. Charcoal grey trousers, a crisp white shirt sans tie and a tailored black blazer that fit his broad shoulders like a caress. And that is why, Cait, you can’t wait any longer to show him how you feel. That’s why you pledged to your gal pals, the Sassy Seven, that the next time Ram came home on leave you would strap on your cojones and tell him you wanted his toned bod in your bed!"Because I cannot go on like this!” Finding no other man I want more has been a bitch! “And my friends are right. I’ll use the sex toys and seduce the man!"Next to her, a woman who waited for another traveler raised a brow at her, then quickly stepped away.Okay. So now I act a little loco.Cait shoved her hands in her trouser pockets as she forced herself to meet the laughing, onyx gaze of the incredible hunk who rode down the escalator toward her. And lord, she couldn't help how her blood beat in her veins and how her body got all tingly just looking at the man who bounded down the last few steps, hauled her up in his arms and swung her around.His lips, hot and firm, were on her ear, her cheek and, ever so briefly, on her own. "Caitlyn, you are a sight for sore eyes. How are you, honey?""Great. Now that you're here." She'd promised herself to be blunt with him this visit. No diplomacy. No hesitancy. No chummy Cait, best friend of his youngest sister. Just crazy-in-love-with-him woman. "And gee, do you look like hell!"
"This leave couldn't come soon enough for me." His two big hands pressed her against him so hard, Cait got pictures in her mind of how fierce he'd be in bed. Her body gushed in hot need. "I had to see you."

SEALS, Soldiers, Delta Force and American Nurses who served in France during World War I! Cerise declares Military Month on her blog!

     November 11 we mark nearly a century since the end of the first WORLD WAR. Here in the States we tend to call it World War One. In Europe, they term it the Great War. "The war to end all wars" was not that at all.
     And so we mark November 11 each year to honor our war dead, our disabled military and our loved ones, lost in times of combat.
     For the next month, I will honor the military the way many of my author colleagues do all year long—by writing about them.
     I'll remind you of great romances by my pals and my own stories, too.

     I hope you will support my wonderful, talented colleagues just as you gain hours of enjoyment about those who serve.
     Among those who served, I will tell you about the women who served too. Twenty-one thousand women whom you have never heard of, those who volunteered to nurse American Doughboys in France, are those I will tell you about.
    In my other name, I write historicals of a different note.     HEROIC MEASURES recounts the story of thousands of women who become the Army Nurse Corps. This novel I researched for years at various facilities in the US and abroad in France. It comes with glowing reviews from the Army, other branches of the military, from nursing organizations and from readers. I hope you will buy this and enjoy it. It is available in digital and paperback. Please leave a review, too.
    If you would like to learn more about these courageous women who earned half what an Army private did and who worked 12-24-36 hours a day sometimes knee-deep in mud, please go to my blog about them, http://theyalsofought.blogspot.com

HEROIC MEASURES
In 1917, one young woman volunteers to nurse wounded Doughboys in France. Sailing far from home, working around the clock in a foreign land, she learns that courage takes on new meanings and comes in extraordinary forms. When she discovers love amid the chaos, she finds yet another way to define courage. And when the war ends and she sees that she is a different person from the one who volunteered, she learns the true meaning of courage and embraces new heroic measures of her own. 

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1dWojVz   digital http://amzn.to/1f30XAx    print
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/heroic-measures-jo-ann-power/1117014178?ean=2940148469186
Kobo:  http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/heroic-measures-1#readThisOn 
iTunes:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/heroic-measures/id719986822?mt=11&ls=1
Allromanceebooks.com :  https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-heroicmeasures-1310153-162.html
Wild Rose Press: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=209&products_id=5334

Today THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE 11+ months on #Regency bestseller lists! THANK YOU from Cerise!

ARe AMAZON   NOOK KOBO iBooks I am delighted to announce that as of today THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE about 4 brothers, 4 love affairs, 4 marriages and one big family curse is officially on Amazon's Regency bestseller list for 11 months! Eleven.  On ARe's for more than 2 months, as well.

Astonishing and delightful to behold, that achievement makes me very proud and very, very grateful to thousands of readers worldwide who have bought the box set and enjoyed it.

This box set's reception has taught me much about the habits of those who read Regencies, those who buy this genre and what many look for and appreciate in a book and a box set.

The set, I do believe, has done well because of the very nature of the stories. First, it is a family tale. Four brothers, titled and talented, have agreed that marriage is not a fine idea in a family supposedly cursed by an incident more than one hundred years before their time. This incident was not even of their making but done to them by King Charles II who took a Stanhope wife to be his mistress and destroyed the love affair between the Stanhope couple.
Second, the price of 99 cents remains appealing to many. While it is "a deal" to many who love to read, it is also a great price by which an author can be introduced, so to speak, to a new reader.  That phenomenon has occurred here as many of those readers have tried my other Regency romances.

That has sustained me and my writing throughout the past 11 months.

It also encouraged me to try my hand with another box set with five of my colleagues who write Regencies.  The success of THE INCOMPARABLES, also a best seller at Amazon and ARe, has been truly wonderful.  With Sabrina York, Susanna Medeiros, Suzi Love, Lynne Connolly and Dominique Eastwick, I put together this collection of novels about heroes who fought at Waterloo. This set sells for 99 cents and will soon go off sale! Do purchase this wonderful set of superb stories NOW!
  Amazon   ARe     KOBO     NOOK

Hire #Regency HER BEGUILING BUTLER for #99cents before @cerisedeland raises his salary!

Butlers in Regency period England earned 50 guineas a year! Plus room and board!
That is equal to $80.00 if one does not count for two centuries of inflation.
Still. Poor, isn't it?
My story about a butler in a fictitious Regency era London household stars a man who isn't really a butler, but he tries very hard.
Come see why! And buy him for 99 cents before his salary rises! BLURB:    The lovely widow at Number Ten Dudley Crescent hopes to lead a merry life without any husband to replace the elderly one she recently buried. Yet Lady Ranford finds herself in a pickle. Her new butler, Finnley, is not only the most obstinate man she’s ever met, but also an enigma.   She’s never been lured to naughtiness with a man. Heaven knows, she certainly shouldn’t fantasize about the tall, dark, scowling creature who runs her household like his finely tuned pocket watch.   But she can’t help herself. She needs to taste him—or dismiss him.Finnley, poor fellow, has a few risqué dreams of his own about how he’d like to handle the delectable widow. Alone in his rooms, he tries to deny how her humor riddles his mind and how her beauty steals his breath away.    None of his solutions are proper.   All of his desires are quite…dear me…scandalous.   But what’s a butler to do when the very life of his beloved employer is at stake? And he cannot control his need to protect her and…ahem…bed her?
Need a Nibble of HER BEGUILING BUTLER?  Copyright 2015, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.“What is your background, Finnley?”He frowned. Why would she ask? His cover was superb. His acting, excellent.“Ah, ah.” She waved a forefinger in front of him. “No prevarications, sir.”He shot ramrod straight. “I told you of my past. You have my reference.”She inched closer to him, so near he could see the purple rays in the glory of her velvet eyes. “I do, dear Finnley. But why do you speak with such crisp precision? Why do you command me with your very presence? Your power?”“Ma’am?”  Was that his voice that sounded like an echo of his own? She should not undo him. But she did.“Wallace Finnley. You have education and breeding. I can tell. Do you know how?”He shook his head, her nearness a magnet to his body, his soul. Her lips, his only lure.“For one thing, you own that very fine, very French Ferdinand Berthoud pocket watch. My great-uncle owned one similar.” She dropped her eyes toward the point on his chest where he kept his treasure. “I can hear the delicate chimes when it rings every quarter hour.”He should have left it in his rooms. But it was the dearest memento he owned from his grandfather. Besides, he ran his daily duties by the precision of it. “I cannot part with it. It keeps me on task.”“It does. I see it.”“May I go now?”“No. Certainly not. I would learn more. You say you come from Yorkshire. But I detect no hint of it in your pronunciation. You went to school. Some fine institution that weaned you from your native speech. Where?”Good god. She was perceptive. He set his jaw. He’d not reveal his year at Edinburgh. He never told anyone of that, he’d hated it so. “The Army was my schooling. Taught me responsibility.”“Your rank?”“Captain.”She smiled at him, her face around her eyes crinkling in appreciation. “So then your family purchased a commission for you?”My father gave me nothing of value. “I ran away. Began as a recruit.”“Noble of you.” Book 2 Coming soon!“Necessary, ma’am.” He shook his head, thinking them done, moving to rise.She caught his hand. “A moment, Finnley. There is more to your story. From your time in the Army, I see then when and how you acquired your demeanor with those under your command.”He wished to escape her touch and her sound perception. “The Army gave me a good education.”“And war is a demanding teacher,” she concluded.“It was. I wish to never fight again.”“Nor do any of us. My brother died. At Waterloo.”He schooled himself to remain placid. Her brother had been his best friend. What he did here for Alicia was as much for her as for Jerome.“I find it intriguing, dear Finnley, that with such rank in the military, you now offer yourself in domestic service.”Her statement, he knew, was a question and he had to avoid the whole answer of his origins. “Being a butler is an honorable occupation.”She fell back to her cushions, her hand dropping and freeing him of her hold.  Her expression told him she was dismayed with his obstinate ways.He stepped backward and rubbed his wrist. She stared at him, clear-eyed and assured. “Finnley, I will be forthright. I look into your endearing blue eyes and can see that when you speak truth to me, your pupils darken and enlarge.”What? Book 3 soon to follow!“And when you lie to me, your pupils constrict and your body tightens like a drum.”Well, damn. Foiled by my eyes?Once more, she took his hand and put his open palm to her soft cheek. “Might you care for me, Finnley?”Might? There was no might.“I see in your eyes that you do,” she whispered. “Tell me who you really are, dear sir. And then we can begin again. Anew.”
AUTHOR BIO :   An author acclaimed for her eloquence and scintillating tales of romance and suspense, Cerise DeLand writes historical and contemporary novels with spice and charm. Visit http://www.cerisedeland.com

HER BEGUILING BUTLER, #1 in series about naughty servants and their delightful masters and mistresses!Sign up for Cerise’s Newsletter: Prizes Every month! http://cerisedeland.us7.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=7c62061b8fb7fd1c0fe6b9348&id=bcc5c70484
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Cerise visits #London with 10 BURNING Questions About #Regency #England!

Every author and many readers often wonder precisely what is real and what is true fiction in any novel.
As I walk around London, I am asking myself these often overlooked aspects.See if any of them are also your burning questions!
1. If I live on Brook Street, is it really a friendly walk to Oxford Street? 2. If I want to buy a hat at a milliner's shop or visit a dressmaker on Half Moon Street, must I hire a carriage, say, if I live in Grosvenor Square?
3. And if I do hire a carriage, where would mine be housed? Is there a mews behind many of these famous squares in Mayfair? Or were there?
4. How do the numbers run around a square? Might not seem like a Burning Question, but when one writes a series (as I do) about folks who live and work in one, it helps to know how the numbers run or ran so that I'm not sending people helter-skelter. 5. In the rear of grand squares do alleys run? Or are they something else? Named something other than alley or access or lane?hmmm.
6. When I go to Rules, opened in 1798, what's on the menu that a lord and lady might have ordered for their meals?Think I'll ask my waiter!
7. Where can I get bangers and mash? (And why?)
8. I also need a pasty. My mother made them often and I yearn for a good one. Question is where do I go?
This pix of the TOWER gives me chills because it shows the poppies,
one ceramic flower for each man lost in the Great War
from each country in the Empire.9. Finally, when I go visit the TOWER for my empty-umpth time, will I still get that little shiver of excitement...and will Mr. DeLand (who frankly seems addicted to the place!) once more swear he was there long ago with William, his pal?
10. In Bath, can I find one superb little gift for my new granddaughter? And in London, I must find a really good set of English buses or trains for my grandson. Question is where?
Ta Ta! Talk soon! When I get answers to these I will post them! Yes, I know. You think I am thorough but a little barmy, too, eh?

Cerise gives you her #England #research trip schedule! #knights #Lords #castles

Tea on the lawn? Is that me? I'm packing my bag (small, black, within airline weight), for England! Want to come along?
I'm doing Major Research and I have an Agenda. Want to see? Bring your walking shoes, umbrella, raincoat (could be chilly too), and a sweater. Also do bring your camera because I take a picture of ANYthing which appeals. Your shoelace. The waiter's tie. Notorious. Yes. And sad. I need many cameras for shots so I can write other blogs like this one! With GOOD pictures...we do pray.
YES! I'm off for England soooon for 2+ weeks!!! Our trip this year is to London, Windsor, Reading and Bath. I am so tickled, I am silly with it.
Yesterday at a day-long FB party (Hey, forgive spelling here, I'm still recovering), I "served high tea." My mother was of English origin and tea was served at our house the English way in a pot, mind you, milk and sugar on the side with a homemade scone or good shortbread cookie.
Mr. DeLand chuckles at my English tea. He needs his java. But he says he will partake. While in England, do as they do, you see.
I am going with superb expectations that I will cram everything in I need to do and see to satisfy my historian's soul—and my writer's heart. This means, of course, that Mr. DeLand knows how to amuse himself while I shop (that verb to him is dawdle) in a museum store or the palace bookshop. (He has decades of experience with me, so he is primed.)
AMAZON   ARe   NOOK   KOBO   iTunes This year I have research goals, as ever. But they are a tad different than in past. This year we do a LOT of Regency and another shot of Victorian areas and experiences. Why? Well, I am excited about Regency architecture. This is for my series that began with HER BEGUILING BUTLER. (See here.) DELIGHTFUL DOINGS IN DUDLEY CRESCENT is my series about lords and ladies (rom com, mystery, and tons of history to titillate) who fall in love with servants. Of course, none of the servants is of that class, else what is a Regency romance for, eh? It must focus on noblemen acting in extraordinary ways to achieve the ultimate goal, marriage. I digress.
Ready for that schedule? 
DAY ONE (which is really Day 2 because the DeLands get JET LAG like the POX has arrived!)Apsley House, London Regency walking tour; and TOWER OF LONDONThis makes the 6th or 7th or umpty-umpth time we have done THE TOWER. But Mr. DeLand's forefather (and mine) came over from Normandy with William the Conqueror and Mr. DeLand  gets crazy mad goosebumps every time he visits. Ergo, one must, eh? I say his ancestor helped to either build said castle, defend it or had a room there. Hmmm.
DAY TWO: Windsor Castle   I do wish I could say I am taking tea here.
Alas, it is Buckingham Palace and this year,
HRM is busy when we arrive.See us on the train, walking, dining there. I was there back in the my grad school days. Mr. DeLand has never been. I think that decades on, for me, I will get to see more of the castle than I did back in the day. So much more is open these days!
DAY THREE: Royal Mews and Cavalry MuseumI am up for the Mews! Last year, we were in Paris for our research trip and we went to the Palais Royale in Compiegne. We dined in a FAB 5 star place for lunch, made our way to the Palais and by the time we finished the main house, the mews was closed. I wept fat tears. Give me a carriage. Always. I get my fix here!
DAY FOUR: Spencer House. Regency Walk around London in which we amble along to haberdashers, Fortnum and Mason, a few squares to look at architecture and to dine and do high tea!
I shall dress to tour!DAY FIVE: Hampton Court Palace or Blenheim. This choice depends on how we feel that morning. Why? After doing this self-guided touring for years now, we understand that occasionally we have to NOT run ourselves mad and do something simpler, not so strenuous. Especially if the weather is not wonderful, we want to be certain to be kind to ourselves, our feet and our health.Blenheim is necessary to me as I begin a series about American Heiresses who married English noblemen in the Victorian era!
DAY SIX:  Banqueting House and Museum of London. The Banqueting House is a bit of an aside, one of those "must do-haven't been there yet thingies" but it calls to me. In my un-copious free time, I want to write (research) Restoration period. 
DAY SEVEN: Osterley Park.This is my big Regency house tour day. Mr. DeLand will sigh and nod and humor me for hours. But he will love the train and the countryside. I know he will!
DAY EIGHT: Arundel Castle or FreeThis is a bow to Mr. DeLand's delight in early medieval castles and my tendency to write a medieval now and then!

DAY NINE:  Sir John Soanes House, St. Paul’s, and Dinner at Rules!Ah, yes. That architecture thingie? This is where I get to drool. Soanes was a major architect during the Regency period for many and I understand that the house alone is a treasure. See me dropping many POUNDS in the shop. Not weight, no. MONEY. Why St. Paul's? To be honest? While Mr. DeLand has been here often, I have never. I must go this time. And dinner at Rules? Ah. Mr. DeLand says we must take out a home equity loan to pay the bill, but go we will. Have you seen the menu? O.M.G. An Englishman's heaven. Roast beef and oysters and kidney pie and soups. I may never leave. (See me doing the dishes?)
DAY TEN, ELEVEN, TWELVE, THIRTEEN, FOURTEEN: BATHWe take the train. Love trains. Bought our tickets on line and let me just give a plug to British Railways who, when this American could not read their website well, did reimburse me for the 4 extra tickets I managed to purchase for 2 people on the same train, same day, and another 2 which went the wrong way immediately after the first 2 arrived.Yeah.Don't ask.
In Bath, we will go go go to:1. Museum of Bath Architecture2. Fashion Museum, open 10:30-5:00 every day, Tours at 1200 noon and 4:00 each day.See Georgian ExhibitEntry to the Assembly Rooms is included in the Fashion Museum ticket. - See more at: http://www.fashionmuseum.co.uk/assembly-rooms#sthash.VTqcQfzi.dpuf3. Assembly Rooms, 10:30 - 5:00, every day4. Jane Austen Center, open every day5. The Circus6. Royal Crescent7. Roman Baths
Before we leave Bath, I will ship home my READER SWAG and goodies for all those FB Parties in 2015-2016.  I learned to do this years ago rather than accosting airline check-in clerks with my displeasure at their dislike of my weighty luggage!
DAY FIFTEEN: We leave Bath. Color me sobbing! We take the bus from Bath to our hotel at the airport!  I do love airport hotels. Means I can get up the next morning and look like a human being instead of this mad woman who has to get to the airport through wild traffic only to stand in line...again.
DAY SIXTEEN: We fly home!

Lucy Felthouse gives us EYES WIDE OPEN! #Bdsm #erotic romance #m/m/f

TOTALLY BOUNDBlurb:A standalone novel from the Totally Five Star imprint.An ordinary girl catapulted into an extraordinary world meets two even more extraordinary men—but what will she do when she discovers their sexy secret?
   Fiona Gillespie moved to London shortly after graduating to take advantage of the opportunities the capital could offer. However, months later, she’s still living in a horrid flat and working in a grimy East End pub. The problem is, she doesn’t really know what she wants to do, career-wise. So when she happens upon an advertisement for a job at a plush Mayfair hotel, she jumps at the chance. A great deal of determination and a spot of luck land Fiona her dream role.   But working at the Totally Five Star London is just the beginning. She adores the role and flourishes, impressing her bosses and making her increasingly determined to climb the career ladder.   While her career is flying, though, her love life is non-existent. She hasn’t even thought about men, never mind met or dated one for months, so when she bumps into two gorgeous businessmen in the hotel, she’s surprised to find her head has been well and truly turned. Even more surprisingly, they flirt with her—both of them! She’s drawn to James and Logan, despite feeling that they’re way out of her league.   When a misunderstanding leads Fiona to James and Logan’s sumptuous top-floor suite, she has no idea what she’s about to uncover. Scenes of people-trafficking, drug-pushing and wild sex parties all appear in her active imagination. Yet what she actually sees is something she’d never even considered before, something that piques her interest.   After discovering their sexy secret, what will she do with this new-found knowledge?   Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of anal play, spanking, sex toys and bondage.Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/eyes-wide-open-totally-five-star-london/Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26080607-eyes-wide-open Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ld7t_6fL46w
Excerpt:   Continuing to surreptitiously peer at the men over the rim of her glass, it hit her that this was the first time in months that she’d looked at a man with interest, much less two men—and at the same time! But, ready to snatch her gaze away if one of them happened to glance at her, she realized that it wasn’t surprising that the pair had attracted her attention.   The tailored business suits would draw the eye even on an ugly guy. But on these two, the fine clothing was practically an orgasm for the gaze. They sat opposite each other, and their angle to her meant that she had a view of both their profiles—lucky her.   The one to her right had very dark, almost black hair, with a bit of a curl to it, a long straight nose, a trimmed goatee and, if she wasn’t mistaken, deep blue eyes. It was hard to tell for sure from this distance and perspective.   The one on her left had lighter, shorter hair, stubble that by some magical feat still looked smart, and the most sinful lips she’d ever set eyes on. And speaking of eyes, she thought perhaps his were green. What she wouldn’t give to go and check both of them out close up, preferably naked.    Shocked at her own sudden lustful thoughts, she inhaled more than drank another sip of the juice.    Unfortunately, it hit her throat all wrong and she almost slammed the glass down as she started to cough. She tried so hard to suppress the cough, eager not to draw attention to herself, that she made it worse. Snatching up the thick linen serviette from the table, she held it to her mouth as she spluttered in a most embarrassing manner, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. By now, she was sure that the whole damn restaurant was staring at her, and she wished the tablecloths reached the floor, like the ones in the restaurant upstairs, so she could hide under the table until she regained her composure.
Swallowing repeatedly to try to soothe her irritated throat, she gasped as a gentle hand laid on her shoulder, which set her off all over again.   “Oh God,” came a voice. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. See if I could help.”   Unable to speak, Fiona waved a hand to try to signal that she’d be okay, but unless the guy was a mind reader, he’d have no luck figuring that out. Blinking through the tears that marred her vision, her urge to hide underneath the table grew stronger. Christ, it was only the hottie with the blue eyes.    And, if she wasn’t mistaken, his sexy friend with the green eyes was also hovering close by, concern etched into his handsome features.   Managing to drag in a breath, she huffed out, “Thank you.”   Just then, Jeremy arrived with a carafe of water, complete with ice, and poured her a glassful. “Here you go, Fiona. Drink this. Are you all right? Anything else I can get you?”
Author Bio:   Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebookand Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9