Cerise DeLand's Blog, page 27

Excerpt, HER BEGUILING BUTLER! Cerise's newest #Regency More fun upstairs, downstairs!

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 BUY LINKS: AMAZON :   http://t.co/oieCSFYKji ARe:   https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-herbeguilingbutler-1866155-160.html NOOK:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/her-beguiling-butler-cerise-deland/1122447087?ean=2940150769540KOBO:  https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/her-beguiling-butler 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.”“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?“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
Sign up for Cerise’s Newsletter: Prizes Every month! http://cerisedeland.us7.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=7c62061b8fb7fd1c0fe6b9348&id=bcc5c70484

FOR HER HONOR, Cerise's #2 in Swords of Passion #medieval #series, #99cents Excerpt!

Nibble on Cerise’s medieval?Copyright 2015, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.1210, The Western Marches, England
Men did not mesmerise her. Ever.Yet, William Dunwick, the Earl of Greystone, was so much more man than Blanche Bergeron had been told to expect that she had to snap her mouth shut at his appearance. Indeed, he was so huge, so much more handsome than the rumours of his glory that she found herself agog at his appearance here in her great hall.  To collect her dignity, she had to sit taller, smile like a gracious hostess and bid him approach her. Amazement—she scolded herself as she settled back into in her dais chair—was not the emotion she wished to convey to this emissary from their ruthless King John. True, she’d heard it said that their regent’s loyal adviser was tall and broad. Blond and ruddy. Impaired by the loss of his left eye. Yet suave as a troubadour with men, and seductive as an oriental sultan with women. Blanche had steeled her mind against him. After all, he was sent by that tyrant John to carry her off to marry a man she was too wise to want and too old to need.But to gaze upon John’s emissary—this legendary Crusader and adviser—was to admit to herself that, in some things, her assumptions could be wrong. And her tactics to save herself from Greystone’s charms, she knew now, must change from obstruction to some other course that might escape this wise man’s piercing sight and perception.“Good day, my lady.” Greystone walked forward with the magnetic self-possession that truly powerful men exuded. Clad in his black tabard emblazoned with his own stag crest and Crusader cross on one shoulder, he wore on his chest the Anjevin leopards rampant to denote the sovereign he served. He filled her vision with the breadth of his shoulders, the symmetry of his jaw, the black leather patch over his left eye and a dancing light in his remaining sea blue one. “You do us honour.” He bent a knee to her.“My lord, you are welcome,” she lied as she extended her hand.He took her fingertips with his warm ones and led them to his mouth. Book 1, Out now!
https://www.totallybound.com/book/at-her-serviceDebonair bastard.At his familiarity, she held her breath as he reverently brushed his soft lips upon her nails. She shivered in the warmth of September. Such frivolities are for younger women, Blanche. Women who sigh at a comely man’s regard and know not how boring they will be in bed. Book 3, Out August 18!He smiled up at her, his one blue eye assessing her as if she were a sweetmeat. “I am most grateful for your kind reception of me and my men,” he told her in a voice so low she felt her breasts bead in silly long–dead desires.She tore her gaze from him towards the four men arrayed behind him. Like their lord, they were of enormous size. Meaty hands and arms, they had impossibly huge chests in black tabards bearing only Greystone’s chest and, underneath, chain mail. With tree trunks for thighs, they flanked their master, standing astride like giant Norsemen. Surely, she could not allow the five of them to carry her off to London for she would never escape their strength. Or their determination.“I am happy to welcome you, Lord Greystone. We are simple people here in the marches but we do try to match the etiquette of London.”“I have been told of your hospitality, my lady Bergeron.” He rose to his full height. Even now, one step below her, he was taller. Such presence she had never seen in a man. Her dead husband had been a head shorter than she. Shorter still in other myriad ways. An unsatisfying collection of skinny bones, thin intellect and tiny wit, Mortimer Bergeron had also possessed a penis of such insignificant size that she marvelled she had conceived two children. What does your's measure, William of Greystone? About the Author - Cerise DeLandWhat's a gal to do to if she lives deep in the heart of Texas, travels often everywhere, and adores Paris, Florence, London, Tokyo and all points east and west?Ah.She becomes an author who can write about those romantic places. With a passion for cowboys, spies, rakes, knights in shining armor and their gutsy women, Cerise DeLand is an author who adores an alpha male with a tender heart and a need for a smoldering erotic love affair with the right woman!Cerise is a Top 20 Best Selling author on Amazon with more than three dozen works published in erotic romance, and she is also an award-winning author of mystery, mainstream and romance with St. Martin's Press, Pocket Books and Kensington. Her books are on numerous book clubs, including Featured Selections of The Mystery Guild, Doubleday and Rhapsody. And when she isn't dreaming up fiction or traveling? Cerise is a fabulous cook and an avid history buff. Busy lady. Happy writer.Visit her website for info on all her books.Find her on FacebookGo to her blog for headline news, ~ and email her at cerise.deland@ymail.com too! You can also follow Cerise on twitter

Need a nibble of HER BEGUILING BUTLER? Of course you do! Cerise DeLand's charming servants #1 in Series out now!

 I'd like a butler, please. Especially one like Mr. Finnley. Tall, dark, handsome, mysterious and oh, so obliging!
He's out everywhere and I will get you the links. In the meantime, here is the AMAZON link:
http://www.amazon.com/Her-Beguiling-Butler-Delightful-Crescent-ebook/dp/B0135ZLZAU/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1438449574&sr=8-1&keywords=Her+Beguiling+butler

He is the first in a series about delightful, impertient servants in Dudley Crescent, London. Others to come include a FAB.U.LOUS group created last month by so many readers who came to a FB Party I gave with my buddies.

Look for them in coming months.

In the meantime?

Here's your nibble:
Copyright 2015, Cerise DeLand.



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.”“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?“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.”

AT HER SERVICE, Cerise's #medieval in reign of that dastardly dude, King John! Out today! #2 next week! #3 following!

https://www.totallybound.com/book/at-her-service
AT HER SERVICE out today! New and expanded and here is your nibble of my cherry!

Autumn, 1190.Cumbria, The Marches, England.
   Elise picked at the rope wound tightly around her wrist. Lashing her to the iron ring on the wall in her nurse’s alcove had not been wise. Yet her father had commanded it. Little did he know of her perseverance. Because she was small in stature and slight of build did not imply she was weak of mind or ingenuity.   She smiled to herself as she plucked at the fraying hemp. She would not—nay, could not—miss Simon’s departure. He would take it amiss if she failed to wish him Godspeed on his journey to join their good King Richard in Italy. Simon de la Poer was her life, her breath. Only months older than she, Simon had fostered with her family. He’d learned the arts of swordsmanship and the finer points of archery from her father’s men. A friendly boy, Simon had won the loyalty of her only brother, Maurice, and the two had grown to consider each the other’s shadow. When that was cut by the cruel death of Maurice from dysentery last spring—and Simon’s own estates had been gobbled by raiding Welshmen—all in the family had thought enough tragedy had befallen them and de la Poer. God would not take more from them.   But they were wrong.   Tears dribbled down her cheeks as she remembered the horrors of the last few months. Her mother’s death days after Maurice’s. Her father’s rage when he discovered Elise in the arms of Simon. His decree that Simon leave their castle. And then the worst, when he betrothed her to an ancient man.   She caught back a sob, wiped her tears from her cheeks and returned to working the strands of hemp.   She cocked an ear. She heard them in the courtyard, the horses’ hooves clattering on the cobbles, the shouts of men hailing each other.   “Hurry, hurry,” she urged herself.   Her fingers sore from the pricking of the rough hemp, she bit back the pain.   And the rope came free.   She pushed to her feet. Headed for the door.   And stopped.   Her head spun. She’d risen too quickly. A hand to the stone wall, she shut her eyes and prayed for strength to go on. She’d been ill these past few days. Morning until midday, she’d not been able to eat or drink. And she had worried that her nausea came not from a flux that had killed her brother and mother—but from the rapture of lying in Simon’s arms.   She swallowed her fear of her father’s censure and focused on her despair of missing Simon’s departure. Debuts August 11!   Putting an ear to the wooden door, she heard no sounds on the stairs. Slowly, she pulled the heavy thing open and peered out.   No one.   Smiling, she eased her slim body out the door and listened again for anyone who traveled the stone steps.   She glanced down. No, she dare not hurry down these main tower stairs. Her maid, her father’s retainers would travel them. She must take the set hidden in the far corner of her mother’s solar. The secret ones few knew of would be best. Quick too.   She picked up her skirts and took the winding steps at a run.   At the next landing, she pushed open the solar door and slid inside. No one was here. Her father refused to sit here since her mother had died. Only she had found any comfort in this room since that day her mother had breathed her last.   She pushed the door shut and rushed to the far corner. The slim door creaked as she pulled it open and she winced at the sound. But no one came—and she flew down the sharply winding stairway as if the devil pursued her.   At the bottom, she halted again. Her back to the wall, her ear to the crevice, she listened for sounds in the buttery. No laughing maids, no surly baker, no irritable cook seemed in evidence.   Were they outside, too, bidding adieu to her Simon?   She pressed her forehead to the cold stones, inhaled and yanked open the door.   No one was about.   And she scampered through the kitchen and the scullery to skid to a halt at the threshing room.   Two, three, four men talked together in the yard. Their voices were young, lacking timbre—save for one. She peered around the edge of the door.    There he stood. Taller than the others, broader of chest and kinder, sweeter than any boy she’d ever met. Even her brother Maurice could not compare to the beauty of her stalwart Simon.   Dare she run to him now? She maneuvered this way and that to view as much of the courtyard as the slit through the door might permit, but chance was everything.   And so was valor.   She flung wide the door and grabbing up her skirts, she ran like one afire.   “Simon! Simon!”   She hurled herself into his open arms.   Still, he put her back to her feet. “Don’t, Elise. Your father will come soon.”   “I care not,” she told him and did not temper her tone. She loved him and her father was sending him away. “I had to see you. Bid you farewell.”   “I am humbled by your kind wishes, my lady.”   Oh, he was so courteous. But then he’d always been in the presence of others. Aware of her status as his liege lord’s daughter, he had often told her he could not compare. He’d told her that as a lowly baron’s second son, he’d been proud to be fostered here in her family as companion to Maurice.     “I want you to return to me, Simon.” She clutched his wool tunic. The black of it matched the glistening black of his hair and contrasted with the bright silver in his eyes. “Promise me.”      “I fight the Infidel with Richard, my lady.” He grasped her hands and tore them from his garment, but in his gaze stood fierce tears.      “Kill them. Take Jerusalem. Come back to me.”   “Listen to me, my lady—”   “Call me by my name, Simon. None of this politesse for us.” Debuts AUGUST 18!   “Aye.” He shook her, his expression gone to stone. “I know not when I return.”   “But when you do, I will be here.”   “You are promised to another, my sweet girl,” he whispered, but his voice broke.   “I will not go.”   Simon set his jaw. All compassion in his demeanor died. His friends strode away, looking back at them, frowning and feigning care of their horses’ bridles.   “I tell you, Simon, I will not wed him.”   “You must. You will.”   “Nay. Return to me and take me as your bride.”  “Sweet girl, your father will not allow it, and I would not defy him. Not any more than I already have when we…”   She sank against him. The warm wall of his chest was a bulwark against all horrors of this world.   “What if I carry a babe? Yours?”  His silver eyes stared into hers. “Say this is not so. I would curse myself if this were true.”   “What’s this?”   The bellow of her father’s voice echoed around the courtyard.  “Leave her, de la Poer! “   Simon’s tight grip on her wrists numbed her hands. “Tell me you lie.”   “I cannot.”   He grimaced. “Then marry the man your sire names for you, Elise. Do it quickly. Never think of me again.”   Shocked at his dismissal, she stood helpless, hopeless. What had she expected him to do? Carry her away to the Crusade?    She stared while he turned to do his duty and bowed to her father.   Her sire was a burly man of round belly and staunch constitution. Always jovial, he’d become somber of late. Deaths and illnesses in the castle had robbed him of his good nature. Discovering his fifteen-year-old daughter naked in the arms of the seventeen-year-old whom he loved as well as his natural son had robbed him of the remaining cheer in his soul.   Elise stepped backward.   He stood before the four young men and nigh unto sneered at Simon. “Get you gone, de la Poer. Our good king needs your audacity to reclaim Jerusalem. May you fight like a heathen and reclaim the purity of your soul. But as you value your life, never come near my daughter nor me again.”   Simon glanced from her father to her and back again. “Aye, my lord. For your kindnesses to me lo these many years, I thank you, sir. Someday I hope to assuage your anger toward me with a good deed you may applaud.”   “I doubt it, Simon. Go. Your name is henceforth banned in my home.”

Like butlers? Every gal needs staff! Out Now with #Regency #facts too! HER BEGUILING BUTLER by Cerise DeLand!

http://www.amazon.com/Her-Beguiling-Butler-Delightful-Crescent-ebook/dp/B0135ZLZAU/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1438449574&sr=8-1&keywords=Her+Beguiling+butler We love historicals so that they take us away to another time and place. But as we were taught by our high school history teachers, we like our romantic fiction appealing to our sense of time and place. In my bangin' butler—pardon me—HER BEGUILING BUTLER, I give you background that is indeed true.

Like what?

First, the January 1820 weather was atrocious!  Minus twenty degrees or more in various parts of England. Snowy and icy. Makes it tough to get around, doesn't it? Especially on foot or driving poor horses.

Secondly, King George III did die January 30, 1820 after more than sixty years on the throne of England. He passed away at approximately 8:30 at Windsor Castle and the news was taken to London by riders on horseback! 

Mourning for the late king was required for nobles. Men wore black attire and/or black armbands, depending on how old their titles. Noblewomen wore black gowns and coats. Intense mourning garb was the rule for at least three months, with an easing after that. The Season was subdued.

In HER BEGUILNG BUTLER, my heroine Lady Ranford, Alicia Blindon, goes to the funeral of her governess. This is unusual and she knows it. But she goes as a sign of respect for the lady she loved. It is true that women did not attend funerals, even those of their family. Nor did they go to grave sites.

When a servant was hired did they get hired through Registry offices or training schools? Yes. While references from a previous employer were required to go from one household to another, many servants were employed initially through services or schools.

One other bit you may like to know is that in BUTLER, my hero visits a hatters shop. Locks in St. James Street. The shop still exists!  Do go and read about this establisment which is now more than four centuries old!
Here it is on the web:   http://lockhatters.co.uk/

My heroine visits a modiste shop which also existed in 1820. I know because we have records of Miss Pierpont's shop in Covent Garden. If you'd like to see them, too, do buy this marvelous book! 
Buy Link:Fashions-Era-Jane-Austen-Ackermanns 

Madam! Need a scorching butler on your staff? Cerise has one in HER BEGUILING BUTLER!

He debuts August 3.
Everywhere.
He's hot, he's bothered, he's flummoxed because he's falling madly in love with his blonde, beautiful lady.

Trouble is he's in search of a culprit...and shouldn't have time to admire his mistress or kiss her, or go to her bedroom...and stay.

Look for the next two in the series, starring a temptestuous and tempting governess and a very naughty maid!

I created the Dudley Crescent and the man who cleared the land to build the houses. Similar to those in other London and Bath crescents, Dudley is comprised of houses where ladies and lords live in grand style. And they hire servants, at some coincidence, who are uppity, intriguing and very desirable!

Going to #London, #Paris? Go the old fashioned, fun ways!

Gare de L'est Main ConcourseNeed a vacay? Hey, me too! If only to please my significant other who says I spend too much time tapping the keys and talking to "others" on TW and FB! (Really??? I do that? Time flies when you are having fun!)
This fall, he and I are going to...drum roll here...England. And our current argument...um, discussion...is about length of stay. Eight days? Ten? Fifteen?
 I often vote for as long as I can get him to agree to the budget (a term I use too loosely which is why we have our discussions). Our longest vacay recently was a glorious 18 days in eastern France covering the American battlefields of WORLD WAR ONE. But I can get him to agree to 14 days and 10 often!
   What do we do? And why do we stay so long?   First, very important here, we skip all hotels. Why? Too expensive AND they never let you in until 3 in the afternoon and by that time, you are ready to skin the receptionist because you are so jet lagged.
http://amzn.to/1dWojVz      We rent an apartment. With washer and dryer so you can take a smaller suitcase. And a dishwasher. No, not hubby. A mechanical dishwasher.  BUT we have also found that in Europe, people tend to sleep very close together. Single beds or double are the norm. You wince? We do, too. Ergo, hunt for that rental that sports a queen or, if you really need it (and we do), a king.  Tough to find but they are there, trust me.   I   s an apartment really that much more affordable? It is. Just think. You have your coffee and breakfast in house. You have a refrigerator so you can, if you wish, pack a lunch. We don't but it is an option, especially if you have food sensitivities or allergies and must do this for health.
   How do we plan? We decide before we go exactly what we plan to see. In order. Then we figure out if there is a Metro card ( Visite , in Paris, London GO in London) and the right time period we need to purchase! We are also good to ourselves and KNOW that the first day we're there, we are good for the move in, breakfast at a local cafe, a nap and a glorious dinner. No touring. THEN, the next day we begin.
   Our WORLD WAR ONE trip began in Paris where we went to Les Invalides, where they have the most marvelous collection of items for display for the world wars. We did the Musee D"Orsay, walked along the Seine, and drank champagne till we couldn't any longer...at least, not that day.What did I get from this trip that took us to Compiegne where the Armistice was signed in 1918 and to Verdun where the most costly battles were fought and to a wonderful museum in Meaux devoted entirely to the La Grande Guerre?
   I got  HEROIC MEASURES, written under my other name. This novel is about thousands of American women whom you've never heard of or eve thought about...I bet. American nurses who volunteered to go to France to nurse Doughboys in 1917 were paid HALFwhat an Army private was paid and had no rank. NONE. I could go on, but hope instead you will read my novel about these truly heroic Americans.******** BUY LINKS for HEROIC MEASURES: 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

********  Last fall, we went to Paris again and this time our agenda was to trace the history of France by visiting a few significant places in and around Paris—and to do so by taking only the Metro or the train!  We stayed for 15 days and let me just say, that it was marvelous. We walked at least 3-4 miles a day, because you leave the train station, by golly, you are hoofing it to the site you wish to see. BUT armed with good walking shoes and our umbrellas, we did it. And then—yes, you guessed it—we dined. And I must confess, we drank well, too. Because well, it is France you must taste the local produce, right???   What did I get out of that visit? Well, I got marvelous backgrounds for my "Cerise went to Paris" Blogs on my own blog here: http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com  
And I have wonderful info for my next few Regencies as Cerise!  Do read THE INCOMPARABLES, 6 HEROES OF WATERLOO AND THE 6 LADIES THEY ADORE BY 6 INCOMPARABLE REGENCY AUTHORS for 99 cents out now! The 6 are: Sabrina York, Dominique Eastwick, Suzi Love, Suzanna Medeiros, Lynne Connolly and me!   And the material I researched appears in my entry in that box set, INTERLUDE WITH A BARON, Regency Romp #4...and in the soon to be released #3 in that series, MASQUERADE WITH A MARQUESS!
   Keep traveling and keep reading!

Cerise went to #Paris and shares 5 FAB.U.LOUS FREE things to do there!

You know I love to share my travels, especially to Paris and soon (be still my heart) to England and Bath!

But for Paris, ah, ma cherie, I have good news for you!

Aside from spending money, the best thing to do in Paris is spend time!


5. Walk along the Seine
Throw the guidebooks away for a day. Especially if that day is sunny. Take the Metro. Walk.
Go to Point Zero, which is a point in front of Notre Dame from which all points in France are measured!

Stroll along the river to admire the vendors with old postcards, prints, paintings, clothing and snacks!
Take pictures and breathe in the Paris air.

Buy an ice, if you must. But inhale the aromas of French roast coffee and baking croissants. Admire the flowers. I've never seen such blooms.

Walk over to the Place des Vosges, built by Henri IV and a favorite place to take a picnic!

Doors at entrance to
Napoleon's Tomb4. Go to St. Louis's Dome. Walk inside to visit Napoleon Bonaparte's Tomb.

Gives me chills every time I see it.

What a man he must have been.

Be sure to pay homage to General Foch who was the last of four French generals to lead the French military in La Grande Guerre, to Americans and others, The First World War.

Carried by a member of each of the branches of the French military, his coffin denotes the sorrow of the French who suffered enormous the destruction to home and civilians during that first global conflict.
General Foch carried by his French comrades
in Les Invalides
3. Visit the train stations!
I know you think I'm nuts, but really, they are a slice of architectural beauty. My favorite is Gare (pronounced not Gar, as in garish, but Garrrrrrrr) de L'Est. This Station of the East is a beauty opened in 1849 and it retains all the glorious expansive beauty of the Belle Epoch. Look at the fan windows. Admire the wide concourse. Both were revelations in their day.

Now imagine through here traveled millions of French and American soldiers from 1914 to 1919. Why?
The fronts were to the north and east and the best way to get to them, if not in convoy, was by train. Often these trains did not couple and the journey was long and arduous.

The cars, during wartime, were overcrowded, stinky, few seats available, without WCs (bathrooms, to us) and without any freshmen cars.

People fled the fighting and the bombs and the invading armies on these trains. Carrying their chickens, their family photo albums, their clothes, millions boarded these trains and fled south. Many never returned. Villages were abandoned to the men fighting with sabers and rifles and flares and cannon.

2.  Take the Metro to Montemarte and walk into the square where you will find dozens of artists selling their wares. 

If walking distances is a challenge, get off the Metro at Lamark and walk up up up the stairs.  Good for the gluts, you see. (Yes, then another set of steps to the square!)

Dart into the many galleries to admire works by contemporary artists.

Walk down the steps toward Rue de Caulingcourt (named after one of Napoleon I's closest friends, ambassador to Russia and famous general). Note The Agile Rabbit on your left where dozens of Impressionist painters and sculptors and writers went nightly to drink and inspire each other!

Stroll along the Rue and walk into a wine shop for your vin. Next door, buy a cheese and a demi baguette. Further along is a fabulous shop that rotisseries chickens and little potatoes in a little roaster right out there on the sidewalk!

Take them all home or to your hotel and feast!


1. Walk along the Champs Elysee and discover Musee D'Orsay, Place de la Concorde and the Tuileries Gardens! 

Pack a lunch to sit in the gardens! Buy a sandwich of brie and ham, a chocolate croissant and coffee and admire what was saved for you by a Nazi general who refused Hitler's order to burn Paris in August 1944. Drop into Laduree and buy scrumptious macaroons.

Sit and imagine you are Marie Antoinette or Josephine or even Napoleon I or his nephew, Napoleon III admiring the view. Yes, on this site there once stood a Tuileries Palace where Marie Antoinette hid from the Revolutionaries and where Josephine bemoaned Napoleon's affairs. Admire what Napoleon saved and improved about Paris which are the bridges that bear his N emblem.

Need a sexy butler? Doesn't every gal? And a man who catches spies? Cerise has 2 men for you!

Debuts everywhere July 22!This month I'm excited about 2 men~one is Drayton Worth in THE INCOMPARABLES box set of 6 fab.u.lous Regency romances for 99 cents and my hot-to-the-touch bangin' butler in HER BEGUILING BUTLER!
Drayton Worth caught spies during the Napoleonic Wars and one of them was the husband of the woman he adored. Catching Henri Montroy meant ruining Emma Bedlow. But 5 years after Waterloo, Dray seizes the opportunity to make her his. And he starts by giving her the house next door to his own!
Dray stars in INTERLUDE WITH A BARON, #4 in my Regency Romp series and in this box set!)
THE INCOMPARABLES features 6 wonderful stories by 6 regency authors you will adore!
A best seller already at ARe and AMAZON worldwide!
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Incomparables-Heroes-Waterloo-Ladies-Adore-ebook/dp/B00YB8OXN2/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
Amazon UK  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Incomparables-Heroes-Waterloo-Ladies-Adore-ebook/dp/B00YB8OXN2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1433942264&sr=8-1&keywords=the+incomparables  
Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebo...
As for the delectable butler in HER BEGUILING BUTLER, Mr. Finnley is the hottest darn man servant you've ever met! And every gal needs a man to wait on her, true? He debuts July 22!!!!
A lady shouldn’t desire her butler. But what’s a woman to do when the man fascinates her? She must taste him…or dismiss him.
And how does a man kill his scandalous desire to kiss his charming employer? Especially when he must protect her from an unknown villain…as well as his dastardly need to possess her.   


Finnley starts a new series, DELIGHTFUL DOINGS IN DUDLEY CRESCENT, about...ahem...affairs in proper English households between the lords and ladies and their staff. Among staff we have HIS TEMPTING GOVERNESS and HIS NAUGHTY MAID.

And for more news, join my newsletter mailing list!

Cerise's Delicious Newsletter!

Romancing the Wolf box set out today! Yummy excerpt by Jennifer Kacey!

[image error]   [image error]    [image error]    [image error]
BUY LINKS:

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00YOHK6U4/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B00YOHK6U4&linkCode=as2&tag=wwwjenniferka-20&linkId=NATPHGPQROO7Y7UH
B&N - http://click.linksynergy.com/fs-bin/click?id=apozwU1Tpl0&subid=&offerid=261457.1&type=10&tmpid=8432&RD_PARM1=http%253A%252F%252Fwww.barnesandnoble.com%252Fw%252Fromancing-the-wolf-heather-long%252F1122042865%253Fean%253D2940152136135
Kobo - http://click.linksynergy.com/fs-bin/click?id=apozwU1Tpl0&subid=&offerid=361251.1&type=10&tmpid=9310&RD_PARM1=https%3A%2F%2Fstore.kobobooks.com%2Fen-US%2Febook%2Fromancing-the-wolf
iBooks -  https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/romancing-the-wolf/id1003547986?mt=11&uo=6&at=1001l4tq
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-romancingthewolf-1838656-166.html?referrer=5543b5a7a311c
 Available for PreOrder now!!! Coming out on June 30th 2015!!!!Romancing the WolfSexy and we know it! They’re on the hunt after your heart. Discover 11 brand new passionate tales of friendship, desire, wolves, survival, and redemption. Escape to another world, another place, and another romance…
Warning: Contains wild heroes and heroines, tempestuous passion, old secrets, new discoveries, and pack ties binding them together. Sometimes love’s greatest challenge is romancing the wolf…

Jennifer Kacey - Violet's Shadow (Shadow Mates) 
  Two weeks alone in a secluded cabin is music to Violet’s ears. Until she sees a shadow in the forest with red glowing eyes. Red eyes she’s seen in her dreams for as long as she can remember. Eyes that make her want to forget the rest of the world. But she doesn’t believe in fairy tales anymore.Rayden was sent to protect her.  To keep her safe.  Nothing more than to guide her as she transitions into a Shadow and takes her rightful place in the pack.  What he finds instead is the mate he’s been unwilling to search for and a passion so fierce he’ll never be able to walk away.   Violet’s spent her entire life aching to belong and she finally finds it in the pack of Shadows she is destined to join.  Everything she’s ever wanted in life and love is finally at her fingertips if she’s brave enough to embrace…her Shadow.
Excerpt –   Violet Clare slammed the flimsy wooden door to her cabin, then threw the lock. It was somewhere around an inch of steel away from comforting. Retreating while keeping her eyes trained on the only entry point, she strained to identify what she could do to avoid the inevitable if the animal wanted in.   With only moonlight illuminating the cabin she tried to convince her heart to evac out of her throat and settle into a more subdued rhythm. Instead, it had a mind of its own, and continued on the Jesus,   Mary and what the fuck gravy train it was currently joy riding atop.   It was out there. Chasing after her. She’d seen him. Not him. It. A shadow. Or a wolf. Both?   At least she thought it was a wolf. But wolves weren’t so damn big and they sure as hell weren’t born with red, almost glowing eyes…   Remove the almost part.   Emphasi on the what the fuck part.   “It’s just a dream,” she whispered, trying desperately to stop shaking. “Only another dream. And   I’m going to wake up. I am.”   Shaking her head didn’t work. Squeezing her eyes shut did nothing, but freak her out more.   Beyond the cabin, in the shadows of the huge pine trees—no from the shadows of the trees a wolf had appeared. Watching her. It was like something out of a children’s book. Not moving a single muscle but she knew every fiber of his being was ready to…what?   Pounce. Attack. Seduce?   “Heheheheeeheheeee—” A high-pitched giggle, the love child of her frayed nerves and anticipation, bubbled out until she slapped a hand over her mouth.   Holy nut house, Batman! Her mother had told her for as long as she could remember to get her head out of the clouds. Fairytales weren’t real and the sooner she learned to live in the real world the better off she’d be. At twenty-five, she still couldn’t seem to get that one right.    If someone needed a random prediction of the future she couldn’t control? She was their girl. For as long as she could remember, she experienced foresight—visions which came true. Every. Single. Time.  She’d been hiding her freaky ability since the first time she’d made the mistake of telling her mother something she knew was going to happen. When her predictions came true, her mom had been furious. Violet’s backside still stung when she thought about how angry her Mom had been.   Scared even. So she’d tried to act the part. Perfect daughter. Perfect student. Perfect employee. Living a lie in the real world? It didn’t fit her so well. Never had. But what if her dreams were true? She shook her head again as she continued to retreat from the door. Not possible. It’s just not possible. A wolf with red eyes appearing right outside a cabin she’d rented and only one other person knew she was at.The travel agent promised her a remote, picturesque secluded getaway located in the middle of a protected forest in East Texas. Perfect for a couple weeks of rest and relaxation in the summer where nature walks abound and it was almost expected to sunbathe for hours—all described in the brochure. Didn’t say anything about creatures stalking her in the forest or appearing out of thin fucking air.“It’s beautiful there,” the travel agent told her as she’d booked Violet’s flights from where she lived in Destin, Florida. “It will be a trip to remember. Fresh air, sunshine, and you’ll be surrounded by wild flowers.”   “Wild flowers my ass,” Violet murmured as she finally hit the far wall. Being jarred out of her inner monologue, she ran clammy hands across the wood behind her. A weapon wasn’t forth coming along the wall as her heart got good and comfy on its seat on the holy shit train to freakoutville. Violet slid down the wall and wrapped her arms over her knees seeing nothing but the pair of bright red eyes following her all the way to the cabin as she’d sprinted for the only structure within fifty miles. Out for a walk to get some fresh air, she’d caught a whole heck of a lot more nature than she’d planned on. God she had felt the gaze on her like a caress. Her body had responded like someone had licked her up the middle. Her breathing grew labored, her nipples pebbled and wetness coated the lips of her pussy preparing to be penetrated clear through to her soul. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as if she’d had someone seducing her for hours. A lover dedicated to showing her what it was going to feel like when she came so hard reality fell away and the only thing left was her desire staring at her with those red eyes. The same red eyes she’d been dreaming of for the entire twenty-five years she’d been breathing. She’d known them forever. Which is why she’d run. Terrified he was real. More terrified he wasn’t.   Fear and desire fought for dominance inside her and she had no idea how to process either.   She closed her eyes, tucked her hair behind her ears and held her breath, straining to listen.    Rationalizing came next and she hoped going crazy had some kind of user’s manual or flow chart like the five stages of grief.   Step one. Run through the forest at night like a crazy woman. Check.   Two. Embrace the crazy person laugh. Check.   Three. Sit in a dark cabin, hiding from the boogeyman and rationalize everything that happened in the last few minutes, ending with the assertion you most certainly are NOT crazy?   Yes it had been dark out, and yes she had partaken in a glass of wine with dinner, but she wasn’t crazy.   Double. Check.   This was supposed to be the vacation of a lifetime so she could find some direction. Figure out what she really wanted to do with her life, but her focus was shittier than a fertilizer convention. And now here she sat, huddled in the corner, wondering what she could use for a weapon. Damn. Not the best time to remember her cell phone didn’t work out here either.   A couple weeks alone in the wilderness to take stock of her life was supposed to be uneventful to downright boring so she could decide what she was going to do when she got home. It seemed destiny had arrived a few days early to get the low down on the here and now.   Well the here and now was about to pee herself if—   Her inner Oprah went mute when a faint creak sounded right outside the door. Someone or something had just stepped onto the porch.   Yesterday it could have been the wind or a bunny. Cause bunnies are soft and cuddly and a bunny didn’t eat people, right? But her current circumstances were so not yesterday.   A louder snort echoed outside, followed by another creak and a dark shadow passing across the small crack under the door.  “I’ve waited for you for years and when I find you, you run?”  What. The. Hell.
Desiree Holt- Heart of the Wolf (The Devora)
Saranna DeWylde The Ardennes Curse (Woolven Secret)
Virginia Nelson - Odd Mate (The Odd Series)

Gayle Donnelly – Running with the Wolf (The Cascadia Wolves)
Cara Carnes - Redemption’s Forgiveness (The Rending)
Brandy Walker – Under Her Spell (Keystone Predators)
Rebecca Royce - Always (Dragon Wars)
Heather Long - Wolf with Benefits (Wolves of Willow Bend)
Melissa Schroeder - The Alpha's Saving Grace (Lonestar Wolf Pack)

Need something to wet your whistle?May I suggest a delicious bite out of the Members Only series........ :PThe books in the Members Only Series can be found here...Together In CynHaleigh's InkA Very Ménage ChristmasDuke's ValentineOrgasm University Accidental VoyeurRoman’s To-Do ListJenna’s ConsentLaila’s Lies

Stand AloneBuried PermissionBeneath the PagesNico’s CurseElite MetalFinal SurrenderViolet's Shadow in Romancing the Wolf - Coming 6/30/2015

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website - http://www.jenniferkacey.com/
Newsletter - http://jenniferkacey.us7.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=f09bd32b8c279cebcc930950e&id=2a45c210e8
Blog – The Decadent Divas - http://www.thedecadentdivas.blogspot.com/
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.kacey.7
Facebook Author Page - https://www.facebook.com/jenniferkaceyauthor
Twitter - https://twitter.com/JenniferKacey
Amazon Page - http://www.amazon.com/Jennifer-Kacey/e/B00GXHUB30/ref=s9_simh_gw_p351_d9_al1?_encoding=UTF8&refinementId=618073011&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0G8ZPDQJVKJPKXNBRY10&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=1688200382&pf_rd_i=507846
Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6941549.Jennifer_Kacey

Pinterest - http://pinterest.com/jenniferkacey/