Laura Andersen's Blog, page 5

Last Deceit Teaser

Because the book will be out in six days! 

Wow. 

Here with the last word is Minuette :) A somewhat fiery last word, for she and Dominic are arguing in the aftermath of a difficult royal visit to the French court. 



[Dominic] "My mother is right, you know. You have ample cause to regret that I fell in love with you."
     At once, her anger dissolved into bewilderment and hurt. "Do you mean that you are regretting having fallen in love with me?"
     "Unlike you, Minuette, I mean exactly what I say."
     Oh, here came anger again. With a vengeance. "What are you implying?"
     "I have watched you with William, and I have heard him speak of you, and I know that he has not the slightest doubt that you love him. And I honestly don't know if that is a result of his own delusions, or a measure of your ability to dissemble, or the simple fact that you are truly in love with him."
     "So this is my fault," she said, feeling a stab of pure pain behind her right eye. "You think I'm a liar--to William or to you or perhaps both. That would be convenient for you because, if I am false, then what does it matter whom you take to bed?"
     He flinched and she was savagely glad of it. "I did not take Aimee to bed."
     "Really? So it is only in public corridors that you kiss a woman while completely naked?"
     "I did not sleep with her," he said stubbornly. "She caught me unawares while I was asleep and I put her out at once."
     "It didn't look like you were putting her out. It looked like you were enjoying yourself quite thoroughly." She was almost frightened by the savagery in her voice.
     Dominic's cheeks darkened. "I swear to you by all that is holy, I did not sleep with her that night. We had a brief . . . liaison when I was at the French court two years ago. She wished to take advantage of that. And think of me what you like, Minuette, but I have the desires and weaknesses of all men. I should not have kissed her as I did. But that was the whole of it, I swear. And you are avoiding my question."
     "I don't believe you actually asked me anything." With every patient statement Dominic made, she wanted more than ever to break his infuriating control. If that smug French girl could shake him so that he acted on impulse, why couldn't she?
     She wanted to hurt him as she'd been hurt, so she said the worst thing she could think of. "Will touches me, you know. When we are alone. You did not imagine we spend all that time playing chess, did you? His control is not as good as yours--or is it that he desires me more? He is careful, of course, of my honour. I am virgin still, if it matters to you. But I have spent much time with my eyes closed and his hands and mouth on me, and do you know what I see then? Always you."
     "Don't."
     "Don't what? Be honest? I know a woman is not supposed to feel this way, or at least a lady isn't. But it is the truth. When I saw you kissing that woman, I wanted to be her. I wanted to be the one coming from you half dressed and wanton. I want you, Dominic, in every way. I think it is you who must regret loving me, for you have scarcely come near me for months."
     Her eyes were stinging and she struggled with all her might not to cry. She had meant to hurt him, not humiliate herself. She hadn't even known how deeply his coldness had damaged her until it spilled out.
     Dominic moved so swiftly that she just had time to breathe in before he pulled her against him. His kiss was not gentle, not sensitive and careful like he usually was. It was demanding and brutal and Minuette met it with equal passion. Her hands wound into his hair, seeking to tug him closer. His arms dropped to her hips and tightened, holding her fixed against him. At some point she felt herself back into the table's edge. Dominic released her just long enough to shove a spot clear of dishes and food and then she pulled him with her as he laid her down on the wooden surface.

Teaser (Technically Not) Tuesday

I very nearly got up at 4:00 a.m. to post this, since I was wide awake and that was the moment my brain chose to remind me that I hadn't done it yet. But alas, sheer laziness won out and sometime between 4 and 4:30 I fell asleep. 

So here I am a day late, with a Boleyn Deceit teaser from Dominic's POV. 

In this scene, Dom has pulled Eleanor Percy, William's former mistress, into a private conversation about potential dangers to Minuette. Enjoy :)


     "Someone set an adder loose in Mistress Wyatt's bedchamber last night. Do you know anything about it?"
     Dominic leaned against the bolted door, arms folded, watching Eleanor. She was so naturally devious that it was impossible to know if her calculating answers meant she was responsible for the reptile or that she was merely thinking quickly.
     "Mistress Wyatt has enemies. Surely you are not so naive that you are surprised by that."
     "And her most conspicuous enemy is you."
     "Do you think me a fool?" Eleanor leaned forward a little, giving Dominic a clear view of her breasts swelling above her square neckline.
     "You've never made a secret of your loathing for Mistress Wyatt."
     "Half the court loathes the other half. That does not lead to murder."
     "Then what does?"
     "Self-interest," Eleanor answered promptly. "You want to get to the bottom of this, look to those whose interests have been threatened by this girl." She tipped her chin up and eyed him thoughtfully. "Which, I suppose, places me on your list. But I assure you, when I want William back, I will not need violence to do it. I am skilled at tricks your precious Minuette would blush to know of. For all his recent infatuation, the king has not forgotten me."
     Not knowing which was worse--her arrogance or her recognition of William's current passion--Dominic said tightly, "You may go. For now. I shall inform the king that you have been less than cooperative. If I were you, I would start packing. I believe your time at court is drawing to an end."
     Eleanor rose in a silken flutter and stepped near him, until he could not move without touching her. Her smile had a distinctly intimate feel to it. "I don't know why you keep to yourself, Dominic, but I know frustration when I see it. If you ever wish to seek relief . . ."
     She drew her fingertips across his cheekbone. Catching her wrist cruelly in one hand, Dominic used his other hand to unbolt and open the door.

An Awe-filled Thank You . . . and Teaser Tuesday :)

To say that I am grateful for all the comments and emails and messages sent my way since my last post would be an understatement. Astonished would be nearer the mark. Perhaps gobsmacked, if I were British. My eyes have filled with tears many times at the generosity of all of you, friends and not-yet friends, who have taken the time to let me know I'm not alone. I hope I can repay the kindness in future.

I meant to begin Teaser Tuesday last week, when I still had Four Tuesdays before The Boleyn Deceit release day. Instead, you shall get a double teaser today :) The intent is to give you one Deceit snippet from each of the four main characters' POV. Today it shall be the royal siblings.

ELIZABETH

     They had reached the final course, an array of sugared fruits and candied ginger, when a newcomer entered the dining hall. She was not a servant, that much was clear from her brocaded green dress, but Elizabeth could not easily place her in the family.
     Silence descended, broken by Northumberland who, after a sigh that Elizabeth heard distinctly, said, "We did not know you were coming."
     "I did not know I would not be welcome."
     "Of course you are always welcome. Come, make your recognition to the Princess of Wales."
     Elizabeth felt all eyes on her, except for Robert's. He had gone dead white and was staring at the woman as though she was a particularly unpleasant ghost. Elizabeth remained seated as the woman--who seemed much of an age with her, with round cheeks and fair hair, not uncomely--approached the table and sank into a low curtsey. "Your Highness," she said, something in her tone at odds with her outward submission. "I have waited a long time to meet you."
     "And you are?" Since no one, not even Northumberland, seemed eager to give the woman a name.
     From her curtsey, the woman raised her eyes and said slyly, "I am Amy Dudley. Lord Robert's wife."


WILLIAM

[Has just announced to Dominic that he intends to raise him to the position of duke]

     "Wouldn't you like to be my lord Duke of Exeter? Come on, Dom. Say something."
     "You have lost your mind."
     "Say something less insulting."
     "Your Majesty--"
     "Don't call me that."
     "People will say it's favoritism."
     "And so it is."
     "Damn it, Will!" Dominic ran his hands through his black hair, an unusual sign of aggravation. "Be reasonable!"
     "Finished yelling at me?"
     They glared at one another.
     Then William nodded. "Good. Now give me credit for not being stupid. I know what some will say if I make you a duke. Just as I know what some will say about restoring Norfolk's title to his grandson. People always talk, Dom. I don't care about that. I care about having a council that represents England and a nobility that is balanced."

    "Northumberland and Norfolk," Dominic said thoughtfully. "Protestant and more-or-less Catholic."     "Yes. With my plan, I will have one duke loyal to the Catholics and one duke loyal to the Protestants. Then there's my uncle--Protestant as well, but loyal primarily to himself. What I need to round it all out, Dom, is you."     "Why?"     "So that I have one duke in England who is loyal only to me." 

An Indulgent Confession

Hello, Gentle Readers. (I don't know why I feel more Jane Austen-ish in the fall, but there you have it. Gentle Readers you shall be while the temperatures are crisp and the leaves brilliant.)

If only my mind and body were as crisp and brilliant. But alas, it is not so.

Depression has, lo these many years, been my relentless, silent companion. Sometimes retreating, sometimes well behind my shoulder so only its breath can be felt, sometimes creeping inexorably against me like shadows calling me home, sometimes erupting suddenly out of nowhere like one of the horsemen of the apocalypse.

And that is melodrama if ever I've written melodrama. Truth, but an uncomfortable truth that makes my polite self want to instantly add, "But it's not that bad! I'm fine! I just need a nap. How are you?" Which is why I don't write about it much. Not because it doesn't affect my life, not because I'm ashamed, but because it's impossible to talk or write about without sounding impossibly self-centered.

But it is, at least, a familiar companion. If I have a fractured mind, at least I know how to accommodate it and seize upon the gifts it can bring along with its terrors.

Now a new stalker has come to visit. Or possibly to stay, although that thought is so disheartening as to be nearly paralyzing.

Chronic autoimmune illness. Chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, lupus . . . all possibilities. CFS is the most likely at the moment. But as I've learned through research, the average length of time for an accurate diagnoses of an autoimmune illness is 4 years. As I'm (clinically) less than a year in, it could change over the next years.

I'm not entirely unfamiliar with autoimmune diseases. Six months after Matt's birth, I was diagnosed hypothyroid. For twenty years now I have taken thyroid replacement hormone since my body no longer makes enough on its own. The why is something of a mystery, as it is in most autoimmune diseases. Something--virus, epigenetic switch, environmental toxins, stress, a combination of these and probably things we haven't thought about yet--cause the body to turn on itself. Which is only slightly less terrifying than the mind turning on itself.

I've also had three awful bouts with mono, another poorly-understood illness that may be a flare of something underlying. The last time was in 2007. I was diagnosed in December 2006. It's not exaggeration to say I remember almost nothing of January 2007. I was so sick that in June, six months after my initial diagnosis, my virus load was EXACTLY THE SAME as it had been in December. It was a solid year before I began to feel something approaching normal. (Just in time for Jake to be diagnosed with cancer, but that's another story.)

This is what my life has been since last Christmas:

1. I sleep. A lot. So much that it's embarrassing to give numbers. (So maybe I am a little ashamed. I mean, sleeping thirteen or fourteen hours at a time is not something anyone is proud of unless they're the parent of a toddler.)

2. And then I wake up for my, oh, eight or nine hours of consciousness and spend every minute knowing that if I laid back down I could fall straight asleep again.

3. Until, of course, it's nighttime. And then I'm wide awake. Which is something of a character trait for me, and not one that's been too troublesome. I mean, much of Boleyn King and Boleyn Deceit were written after 10:00 at night when my family was settled down. But in those days, I could still rise by 10:00 a.m. (after my early morning half-awake efforts to get kids sent to school) and have a day.

4. Days that used to involve actually leaving my house. Or, heck, LEAVING MY BED. These days I measure my good days by whether I sit in the armchair in my bedroom rather than simply sitting up in bed. (Wow, this is getting really confessional really fast. Are you losing respect for me yet?)

5. Now my days are carefully calibrated to involve one thing, or at most two. I try to make those two things exercise and writing. For exercise, read: twenty minutes light (very light) cardio on a bike and, if I'm feeling very energetic, fifteen minutes of yoga. Often, it's just one of those in a day. And then writing because, well, because I have a contract and books have to be written and I actually like that part of my day so that's what I do.

6. But you can see that doesn't leave much for anything else. Like friends. Or activities. Or even my family. It's something of a conundrum.

I tried explaining it to my husband this way: Imagine every human being is given 10 points every single day. A healthy person on a good day uses 1 point for the business of being alive and basics like brushing your teeth and showering. For the last year, a good day for me uses up 4 points for the same. And the bad days? All 10 points are gone before I've so much as emailed my agent or answered interview questions or talked on the phone. I can borrow points for a short time, like going to Bouchercon two weeks ago. Adrenaline can buoy me for four or five days at a time. But then I pay. With interest.

The most insidious aspect of chronic illness is shared with depression: the inability to remember life ever having been different. When I was at my most depressed, I not only couldn't imagine feeling differently, but I didn't think I was substantially more impaired than anyone around me. I distinctly remember, within two days of beginning my first anti-depressant, thinking with awe, "So this is what it feels like to be human. I thought everyone felt like I did and they just coped better than me."

That's pretty much where I am physically at this point. If I sit down and think about it, or talk with friends who have known me for years, I can logically remember that I haven't always been this lazy by nature. Somewhat lazy, sure, but I routinely used to work out for 45 minutes at a time and do it again the next day without having to go to bed for a week in between. Though I have never been a morning person, I have spent the majority of my adult life up and about and even dressed well before noon. I used to be able to write AND be with my friends AND hang out with my husband AND take my kids somewhere all in the same week.

And of course, depression is a handy little tag-along to chronic illness and mine is no different. Long years of feeling that I should be stronger than this, I should be able to control my mind and body, I should be better or kinder or lose myself in others because I'm just way too focused on myself and so that's why I don't feel well . . . It's kind of pathetic. Because I know women with chronic illness. And women with depression. And not once in all my dealings with them have I ever considered anything other than compassion and a wish to ease their burdens. But for myself? Well, women have a long evolutionary history of being harder on ourselves than on anyone else.

Is it in my head? At this point, who cares? I just want it to get better. And that's what is scary about chronic autoimmune disease. It might get better, but it doesn't go away. It will flare, and then it will subside. But the threat of a flare never goes away, just as the threat of depression to drag me down never goes away. I can live with it, I can accommodate it, but I can't will myself to get better.

Why am I writing about this now? Partly because it's easier to post one explanation that my friends and family can read so I don't have to talk about it dozens of times. Believe me, I am so sick of my own body at this point that even I don't want to listen to me anymore :)

But also because emotions and stresses are a major influence on chronic illness. Maybe if I talk about my fears, I will ease their ability to harm me. That's the theory, anyway. So here's my biggest fear:

One of the symptoms of many chronic autoimmune diseases is muscle aches and joint pain. Until a couple months ago, I didn't have either. But in the last six weeks or so, my muscles have been aching. And this week my shoulder joints have leapt into the fray. Not major, not requiring pain meds, but scary. Because joint pain is a hallmark symptom for a particularly nasty autoimmune disease--rheumatoid arthritis.

In 2002, I met my birthmother, Sandra Lindsay, who had placed me for adoption  33 years before. When we met, she had been crippled from RA for five years. In the four and half years i knew her, I saw her out of bed twice and never saw her walk. She died in September 2006 from rheumatoid lung disease, a terminal complication of RA. She was sixty-four years old.

I want a lot longer than twenty more years of life. I want much more than a decade confined to bed. Sandy had emotional stressors that went deep and far into her past, many more and much more damaging than any I have had. But she also did not have as many resources for dealing with them. And so, though polite reticence and a deeply innate desire not to trouble anyone are very much my style, I do not want to be poisoned from within. Writing helps, even writing about troublesome, sexy fictional Tudors.

But writing honestly about myself also helps. So this, gentle readers, is for me. Thank you for indulging me, and I promise, I really am okay. I have a family that can absorb a lot and friends who love me for no discernible reason I can see. Who needs more than that?

It's 11:55 p.m. I have at least an hour of wakefulness ahead of me. I think I shall go read, since I have already written nearly a thousand words today. Hopefully all of you are well asleep by now ;)

August Books I Loved

THE SECRET ROOMS/Catherine Bailey
In 1940, the 9th Duke of Rutland spent his last days locked in a servants' wing of Belvoir Castle. After his death, his son ordered the rooms sealed for sixty years. The author came to Belvoir researching a book on WWI and in the family papers locked away she discovered a tantalizing mystery at the heart of the aristocratic Manners family in the years before and during WWI. An intriguing look at power, privilege, early death, and the changing fortunes of Britain's upper classes in the 20th century.

LOST/S.J. Bolton
10-year-old Barney knows there's a killer taking boys like him off the streets of London. But he has problems beyond that--like searching for the mother who left him when he was young to finding out where his father is going late at night. DC Lacey Flint, still recovering from her last case in Oxford, lives next door to Barney and can't help but become involved with this young boy who desperately needs answers. The 3rd in the Lacey Flint novels, I hope Bolton will write a little faster :)

DEMON'S COVENANT and DEMON'S SURRENDER/Sarah Rees Brennan
The 2nd and 3rd books in the Demon's Lexicon trilogy, Rees Brennan delivers a sharp, funny, and unexpected story of sibling love and what it means to be human. Nick and Alan Ryves navigate a world between demons and magicians, and they thought their life was complicated before they met Mae and Jamie. Now Mae is trying to keep her brother, Jamie, from joining an evil magician and the Goblin Market is in an uproar over Alan's past choices for his brother. Laugh out loud funny, sarcastic and sexy, and heart-in-your throat suspense, Rees Brennan delivers paranormal YA to satisfy a contemporary teen.

A DYING FALL/Elly Griffiths
The 5th book in the Ruth Galloway series, forensic archaeologist Ruth is shocked to learn an old college friend has died in a house fire just after sending her a cryptic letter about an unexpected find. Ruth leaves Norfolk with her young daughter and Druid friend, Cathbad, in tow to investigate. An interesting mix of academic backstabbing, actual backstabbing, murder, witchcraft, and English legend--all held together by the caustic, clever and sometimes insecure Ruth. I met the author, Elly Griffiths, at Bouchercon last month and was as charmed by her as I am by her books.

ELEANOR AND PARK/Rainbow Rowell
A rich, heartbreaking, beautiful YA without demons or angels or magic, just two teens who find themselves falling in love in spite of all the reasons not to. Set in 1986 (my junior year of high school), Park is half-Korean and Eleanor is a redhead with no fashion sense and an absolutely disastrous home life. They begin to bond over music and before they know it they're deep in an experience neither one saw coming. Dazzling.

ON BASILISK STATION/David Weber
Honor Harrington has just been given her first serious command in Manticore's space navy, an out of the way posting to a planet that most people want to forget about. But Honor does not know how to give up, so she takes on incompetent superiors, smuggling aliens, and a native population being primed for rebellion in her stride. A rollicking space opera with a likable heroine that's the first in an apparently endless series. Fun sci-fi for when I'm in the mood.

July Books I Loved

A BLOODY FIELD BY SHREWSBURY/Edith Pargeter
Best known for her Brother Cadfael medieval mysteries (under the pen name Ellis Peters) Pargeter also wrote beautiful historicals including this one: the story of Harry 'Hotspur' Percy and his rebellion against Henry IV. Perhaps the most intriguing character of the lot is young Hal, the teenage Prince of Wales who will one day be Henry V. The kind of historical fiction that makes me say, "If this isn't how it happened, it's how it should have happened."

NAME OF THE STAR and THE MADNESS UNDERNEATH/Maureen Johnson
The first two books in a trilogy about Rory Deveaux, an American student newly arrived in London just as a Jack the Ripper copycat begins a killing spree. Rory has enough trouble keeping up with classes, but after a near-death moment she realizes she can see ghosts, a skill that puts her in danger as the killings continue. I absolutely adored the first book; I was ever so slightly let down by the second, which was slimmer and quicker and didn't deliver quite as much story as I wanted. But the ending was harshly beautiful and I follow her on Twitter partly to follow her progress in finishing the 3rd book (but mostly to laugh, because Maureen Johnson is very, very funny!)

THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE MONGOL QUEENS/Jack Weatherford
A companion to Weatherford's book about Genghis Khan and the rise of the Mongol Empire. I loved this book's focus on the women among Genghis Khan's family and descendants, for even more than the men, they were responsible for the spread of the empire along the famed Silk Route. Weatherford begins with the excision of Genghis Khan's daughters from Mongol written history, leaving only a single tantalizing sentence that hinted at his respect for women, and from there dissects the outlandish stories that trickled into Europe about these women. Highly recommended.

HOUSE AT SEA'S END and A ROOM FULL OF BONES/Elly Griffith
The third and fourth books in the mysteries series featuring forensic archaeologist Ruth Galloway. In House, Ruth is called in to investigate bones found on a remote Norfolk beach. They turn out to belong to German soldiers from WWII, and the mystery of their deaths threatens to unearth local secrets. In Room, the opening of a medieval bishop's tomb is complicated by the murder of the museum curator. When the museum's owner is soon found dead in his horse racing stables, at least one of Ruth's friends is implicated. Where do her loyalties lie? Ruth is an engaging character, not least because she can be abrasive and difficult.

DEAD SCARED/SJ Bolton
DC Lacey Flint is still recovering from the effects of her last case (from NOW YOU SEE ME) when she is sent undercover to Cambridge to investigate a rash of unusual student suicides. Working with college psychologist Evi Oliver, who suspects a website might be encouraging troubled students to kill themselves, Lacey is dragged into a much darker and more horrific conspiracy. And then the nightmares begin . . . Bolton is a master of psychological suspense and Lacey is an intriguingly broken character who holds herself together through sheer force of will.

ANATOMY OF MURDER/Imogen Robertson
The second in the series featuring 18th-century anatomist Gabriel Crowther and forthright Harriet Westerman. Harriet's husband, a naval captain, has been gravely injured in a sea battle and she distracts from her worry by investigating the case of a body pulled out of the Thames. The case involves French spies and English traitors and Captain Westerman may unknowingly hold a key piece of evidence. A good portrait of an era, with wonderful characters, and a plot that continues to surprise until the end.

JEWELS/Victoria Finlay
The subtitle is "A Secret History", and Finlay's engaging narrative combines geology, travel, history, legend, and science to go behind the pretty colors and expensive sparkle of the world's gems. With chapters like Pearls, Rubies, and Diamonds, I know far more than I ever expected to care about knowing and also found many wonderful tidbits about historical jewels that I can use in my novels. A charming and informative book.

Contest Winners!!

And the winners are . . . (drumroll)

Marny!!!
and
Patty Helsingius!!!

Email me at laurawriter at ymail dot com with your address (yeah, not really necessary, Patty!) and I'll send you a signed copy of Boleyn King, a signed Boleyn Deceit ARC, and signed posters of the covers for both King and Deceit. 
Thank you for all your comments--you made my to-see list even longer for my next visit to England. 
If you didn't win, Goodreads is currently running a giveaway for Boleyn Deceit ARCs through September 24--and they have 75 copies! 
Also, September is Childhood Cancer Awareness month, a cause dear to my heart. I'm pondering some sort of contest/charity giveaway. Check back in a few days . . .

Favorites #2: Hampton Court Palace

Need I say more? 
Okay, you persuaded me :) The finest surviving example of a Tudor-era palace in England, Hampton Court belonged to Cardinal Wolsey, who 'gifted' it to Henry VIII after the king expressed a rather strong approval of the place. Only part of the redbrick Tudor palace remains; the rest is a beautiful Christopher Wren design built in the reign of William III.
More than any other single place in England, Hampton Court is where The Boleyn King was born. It was here, in 2004, that I first had an image of a man searching for a woman's face in the crowds and was bowled over by the intensity of said man's (Dominic's) love. 


The Great Hall, with its elaborate hammerbeam ceiling. In The Boleyn King, it is in the Great Hall that Dominic is created Marquess of Exeter and where he slips away from Minuette when he fears she is already betrothed to Jonathan Percy. 


A lovely staircase :) Notable chiefly because I wanted an example of the type of staircase where Dominic and William come upon Giles Howard insulting Minuette, and later, where Giles assaults her and Dominic nearly kills him. 





The Tudor kitchens, and my favorite teen traveling companion. The last time Jake was at Hampton Court (nine years ago), he got to turn the spit of a roasting pig. 



The beautiful gardens, from which I drew inspiration for the early scene in The Boleyn King where Minuette is alone in the garden until William and Dominic come upon her. It was from a low wall in my (re-created) space of this garden that Minuette jumps to Dominic and utterly disconcerts him. 




Any guesses? 
This is the warren of back lanes and courtyards around the Tudor kitchens, into which Minuette follows Dominic the night of her 18th birthday and is brought up against this very brick wall just short of Dominic touching her.


Hope you enjoy Hampton Court! And don't forget to comment on My Contest Post for a chance to win Boleyn King and Deceit items.

Favorites #1: The Tower of London

The iconic White Tower, built by William the Conqueror and the central feature of the Tower of London complex. In Tudor days, there was a range of royal domestic buildings next to the White Tower--it was in those royal apartments, for example, that Anne Boleyn stayed the night before her coronation. The White Tower is a nearly-perfect example of a Norman keep. 



The famous water gate, known now as Traitor's Gate. Important prisoners were often brought to the Tower by boat and entered their prison through this gate. Anne Boleyn, though, was probably not one of them; she more likely arrived at Tower Wharf west of this gate and entered through Byward Tower. 



The Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula where three queens of England are buried: Anne Boleyn, Katherine Howard, and Jane Grey. The rail in the forefront of the picture encloses a memorial to the scaffold site upon which the three women died, but the site is inaccurate. The scaffold was actually built to the east, between the White Tower and today's Jewel House. The present form of the chapel dates to about 1520 and is a lovely example of a Tudor church. It was Queen Victoria, when bodies were discovered during a renovation in 1876, who caused the three queens to be reburied before the altar of the chapel.



Another iconic view, of Tower Bridge over the Thames. The famous ravens' cages are on the green to the left; the round-walled tower in the center is Wakefield Tower where Henry VI died as a prisoner under Edward IV. 


Also built during Henry VIII's reign, what is known today as the Queen's House was then the residence of the Lieutenant of the Tower. He had several prisoners in his personal keeping during the Tudor period, including Jane Grey, and it is widely-believed that Anne Boleyn spent her final days here awaiting her execution, which was delayed twice. She is reported to have said at news of one delay: "I am very sorry therefore, for I thought to be dead by this time and past my pain." It was from here that Anne Boleyn walked to the scaffold on May 19, 1536 to be executed by a swordsman brought from Calais for this purpose. 



And my favorite part of London on this trip was Jake--ever patient with his mother and (occasionally) willing to be photographed. This is ground floor of Beauchamp Tower, famous for its walls highly-carved by prisoners (including the Duke of Northumberland and his son, Robert Dudley.) 

What is your favorite spot in England, visited or not? Don't forget to comment on this post to be entered to win a signed Boleyn Deceit ARC and other gifts!

CONTEST!

Because my Boleyn Deceit ARCs are watching me reproachfully Every. Single. Day. while I revise Reckoning. I've never had ARCs to give away before, so it's possible they scare me. Or that I wanted to hoard them ('my precious') or that I've taken the time to devise a wonderful, thought-provoking contest.

It's possible, but not true. The truth, as always, comes down to I Just Haven't Done Anything Yet. If you'd like to complain about that, you'll have to get in line behind my husband and children and house at this point.

Here's what I've come up with in my snatched moments away from revisions and back-to-school insanity: I had a wonderful time in London this summer. I have the pictures to prove it. Many of those pictures are of places that matter in my books. So for the next (mumble, mumble bunch of days) I will post various pictures of various places and convey in as few words as possible my love for said places.

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN A BOLEYN DECEIT ARC, COMMENT ON THIS POST TELLING ME YOUR FAVORITE PLACE IN ENGLAND (EITHER VISITED OR HOPED-TO-VISIT SOMEDAY).

I will run this contest through midnight Eastern Time on Thursday, September 5. I will then randomly select TWO winners from the comments to receive not only a signed ARC of The Boleyn Deceit, but a signed copy of The Boleyn King and signed posters of the covers for each of those books.

Hooray for England! Hooray for history! Hooray for free books!

And mostly Hooray! for those of you who've taken a chance on my books and made me happier than you'll ever know :)