Camille Elliot's Blog, page 86

Deep Point of View worksheet now available

I've just released my Story Sensei Deep Point of View worksheet on ebook!

$2.99 on Kindle, iBooks, Nook, Kobo, Smashwords.

As a writer, you can provide a richer emotional experience for your reader by utilizing a deeper point of view.

Deep point of view draws the reader into the characters’ heads and can elicit a stronger emotional reader response to the characters’ struggles, decisions, and reactions to external conflict.

Readers who have read a passage in deep point of view often talk about how the characters seemed more vivid, how the story and prose riveted them to the page.

It is very easy for a writer to learn ways to draw the reader into the mind, body, and soul of your characters through deep point of view techniques.

By the end of the worksheet you’ll have:

1) A basic understanding of different points of view so you can decide if deep or shallow point of view is best for your story

2) Ways to strengthen the emotional writing and draw the reader deeper into the character’s point of view

3) An understanding of the structural elements of a scene to help you know when and how to add deep-POV emotions

4) Tips for how to tweak wording in order to deepen point of view on a minute level, which contributes to a richer point of view for the manuscript as a whole

5) A finely honed radar for spotting “Telling” and shallow POV through exercises

This worksheet consists of lessons, homework, and fun exercises for you to see lots of deep and shallow POV examples. You’ll learn lots of simple techniques to help you deepen your character’s point of view.

Buy the Deep Point of View worksheet: Kindle, iBooks, Nook, Kobo, Smashwords.

Also available:
Heroine's Journey worksheet
$2.99 on Kindle, iBooks, Nookbook, Kobo, Smashwords.

Make your character's story arc resonate more emotionally with readers.

Often, a male and female character will respond differently to conflict in a story because culture and time period will affect a character differently due to gender. As a result, their internal story arcs will differ according to gender, also.

If readers comment that there's something disatisfying with a character's story arc, the Heroine's Journey applied to a heroine will often make her story more psychologically resonant and satisfying for a reader.

Buy the Heroine's Journey on Kindle, iBooks, Nookbook, Kobo, Smashwords.


Characterization worksheet
$2.99 on Kindle, iBooks, Kobo, Nookbook, Smashwords.

Your readers identify and/or empathize with your characters, and that’s what keeps them on the edge of their seats, wanting to know what happens next to your characters. When your reader is apathetic about your character, they are more likely to put your book down. They simply aren’t as invested in the character and are not as interested in the conflict surrounding them.

This worksheet will guide you through several steps and questions that will help you delve deeper into your characters to make them realistic, heroic, and memorable.

Buy the Characterization worksheet on Kindle, iBooks, Kobo, Nookbook, Smashwords.

Extended excerpts from Traditional Regency Romances

A Taste of Traditional Regency RomancesFREE ebookGet it on Get it on Kindle, iBooks, Nook, Kobo, Smashwords

I and my friends from the Bluestocking League have put out a sampler ebook with extended excerpts from five Regency romances! Each of the books in this sampler is the first book in a series, and all the books are clean, wholesome romances.

From some of the most beloved authors of Regency romance come stories to delight. These excerpts, set in the time of Jane Austen, will give you a sip of sweet romance and will leave you eager for more.

From Gail Eastwood, The Captain's Dilemma : Escaped French war prisoner Alexandre Valmont has risked life and honor in a desperate bid to return home and clear his name. Merissa Pritchard risks charges of treason and her family's safety to help the wounded fugitive. But will they risk their hearts in a most dangerous game of love?

From Camille Elliot, The Spinster’s Christmas : Spinster Miranda Belmoore and naval Captain Gerard Foremont, old childhood friends, meet again for a large Christmas party at Wintrell Hall. Miranda is making plans to escape a life of drudgery as a poor relation in her cousin’s household, while Gerard battles bitterness that his career was cut short by the injury to his knee. However, an enemy has infiltrated the family party, bent on revenge and determined that Twelfth Night will end in someone’s death …

From April Kihlstrom, The Wicked Groom: When the Duke of Berenford is engaged to marry a woman he's never met, what's a poor man to do? How was he to know she wouldn't appreciate his brilliant scheme?

From Vanessa Riley, Unmasked Heart: Shy, nearsighted caregiver, Gaia Telfair never guessed she couldn't claim her father’s love because of a family secret, her illicit birth. Can the mulatto passing for white survive being exposed and shunned by the powerful duke who has taken an interest in her? William St. Landon, the Duke of Cheshire, will do anything to protect his mute daughter from his late wife's scandals. He gains the help of Miss Telfair, who has the ability to help children learn to speak, but with a blackmailer at large, if only he could do a better job at shielding his heart.

From Regina Scott, Secrets and Sensibilities: When art teacher Hannah Alexander accompanies her students on a country house visit, she never dreams of entering into a dalliance with the handsome new owner David Tenant. But one moment in his company and she's in danger of losing her heart, and soon her very life.

Join the Bluestocking League in celebrating the wonder of traditional Regency romance.

Get it on Get it on Kindle, iBooks, Nook, Kobo, Smashwords

What Comes Out of Sickness

I’ve had a horrible past week, and I blogged about it at ChristiansRead blog. But amazingly, some really great things came out of it:

I have just come out of possibly the worst 10 days of my life. I had some pretty bad menstrual cramping for a couple days, but one of the generic acetaminophen tablets I took for the pain ended up giving me horrible food poisoning symptoms (I have a feeling it was some type of impurity or chemical contamination in the tablet). So after dry heaving almost hourly for 24 hours, I was in terrible shape.

Click here to read more

Mutant Chronicles

Since I'm writing a near-future/sort-of-dystopian story, I watched this movie (thanks to Netflix DVD). It wasn't quite as bad as I expected it to be, but it had its problems.

Here’s the blurb from Netflix:

In a futuristic world where Earth is divided into four warring "Corporations," a frightening new breed of NecroMutant threatens to destroy the global population unless the leader of an old monastic order can destroy the beasts and save the planet.

Camy: The story premise is that after the ice age, an alien machine came to earth to create those NecroMutants from human beings it captured, although the story never explains why that was the machine’s mission. Mankind warred against the machine up until an alternate reality Middle Ages, which was when the machine was buried.

The movie is set in an alternate reality future (the year 2707). The thought of four corporations ruing the world was credible to me since history had been changed after the machine touched down.

The technology is, surprisingly, a type of 1930s Steampunk where artillery and airships can do things our technology can’t do yet, but the design looks like something from World War II. That was way cool! The story world was quite different from the other movies I’ve seen. Actually, the story world might have been a darker version of the world of Fullmetal Alchemist (鋼の錬金術師) and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (an alternate retelling of Fullmetal Alchemist). (You can also watch these anime series streaming on Netflix.)

The main actor, Thomas Jane, did a decent job, and for me, there’s something about Ron Perlman—any thing he’s in, I just love his acting. John Malkovich had all of five minutes’ screen time, but even then he was so believable. This time I could notice the little things he does to make the character unique and above cliche. It was nice to see Sean Pertwee from Gotham in a minor role in this movie.

It was quite violent and there are F-bombs galore, which sometimes get mangled by the actors’ accents. The makeup special effects were very good, on par with The Walking Dead, and almost as gruesome.

My biggest beef with the movie is the characterization. One of the female main/minor characters, Severian, is really Too Stupid To Live. She’s supposed to be a bad@$$ swordswoman but she does dumb stuff that make her completely unsympathetic. I won’t go into spoilers, but she would have dived headfirst into the KoolAid, which does not make me care about what happens to her.

I was also scratching my head a bit at the ending.

Overall, probably a 3 out of 5 star movie for me. I mean, I watched to the end so it didn’t have buckets of suckage, but the writer side of me was thinking of ways the characterization could have been improved and holes in the storyline patched up.

Last chance to read THE SPINSTER'S CHRISTMAS

Hey guys,
It's your last chance to read the revised version of my Regency romance, The Spinster's Christmas , before I take it down from my blog! It is the first book in my Lady Wynwood series.

A Regency romantic mystery

Miranda Belmoore has never felt attuned to the rest of society. Her family has never understood her blunt speech and unwillingness to bow to conventional strictures, and so they have always made her feel that there is something wrong with her. Now as a poor relation in her cousin’s house, she makes plans to escape a life of drudgery and disdain from her own family members.

Naval Captain Gerard Foremont is having difficulty adjusting to life back on land, frustrated that his career has been cut short by his severely injured knee. Guilt haunts him as he sees the strain his long convalescence has had upon his parents. As they spend Christmastide with the Belmoores, he wants to help fulfill his mother’s wish to have her orphaned niece come to stay with them.

However, an enemy has infiltrated the family party, bent on revenge and determined that Twelfth Night will end in someone’s death …

Start reading here.

My pathetic darned socks

I darned my #knittedsocks. Kind of a pain. Instead of darning the toe I just unraveled and reknitted with different yarn. It looks ugly but it'll still keep my feet warm!

The Spinster's Christmas - Chapter 22

I’m blogging the revised version of my Regency romance, The Spinster's Christmas , so you all get a chance to read it. After I post it all, I’ll take it down from my blog, so be sure to read it while it’s being posted. It is the first book in my Lady Wynwood series.

A Regency romantic mystery

Miranda Belmoore has never felt attuned to the rest of society. Her family has never understood her blunt speech and unwillingness to bow to conventional strictures, and so they have always made her feel that there is something wrong with her. Now as a poor relation in her cousin’s house, she makes plans to escape a life of drudgery and disdain from her own family members.

Naval Captain Gerard Foremont is having difficulty adjusting to life back on land, frustrated that his career has been cut short by his severely injured knee. Guilt haunts him as he sees the strain his long convalescence has had upon his parents. As they spend Christmastide with the Belmoores, he wants to help fulfill his mother’s wish to have her orphaned niece come to stay with them.

However, an enemy has infiltrated the family party, bent on revenge and determined that Twelfth Night will end in someone’s death …

Start reading here.

***
Chapter 22

January 1st



The turret door, which Miranda always had to struggle with, opened easily under Gerard’s strong hand, but it was nearly blown out of it by a whipping wind.

“It’s too windy,” she said. “Let’s go back.”

“No, Lady Wynwood said it had to be here.”

“Lady Wynwood?”

She pulled her cloak around her and followed him out onto the roof of Wintrell Hall. Despite the wind, the sun shone high above, only briefly misted over by the occasional wisp of cloud before beaming down upon them, turning the red brick orange-gold.

They found a spot in the lee of the cupola where the wind was only a gentle swirling around their bodies. Gerard wrapped the wings of his greatcoat around both himself and her, and then he pulled her close to kiss her.

In the cocoon of his coat, she pressed against him, the brick parapet at her back. His mouth tasted hers, then traveled to her jaw, her neck.

“Gerard.”

“Mmm.”

“You did not bring me here to kiss me.”

“How do you know? Maybe I wanted privacy.”

“If you cared about privacy you would not have kissed me in the middle of the drive yesterday.”

After tying up the two men, they’d driven them and the rented coach to the village to turn them over to the local constable and tell him about Harriet’s body in the woods. Then Mr. Drydale had driven them home in the carriage while Michael rode alongside.

Gerard had helped her down and then pulled her close to kiss her fiercely. In front of the grooms who had come racing from the stables, and the butler who had opened the front door to the house, and the family who had trickled out to see them. Felicity had given a horrified shriek that drew them apart.

“I kissed you yesterday simply to distress Felicity,” he murmured into her ear. The vibration of his lips against her jaw made her shiver.

“I should have protested more before following you up the stairs just now. Your knee—”

“I submitted quite docilely to your poultice, which smelled like a pig pen, by the bye.”

“It did not.”

“And now my knee is ‘plummy.’”

It was not. The ride on the horse had injured him further, making him lean harder on his crutches today.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

“I cannot.” Although that sounded ridiculous while she was in his embrace, his lips at her throat. “I have nothing …”

He drew his head back and looked down at her, but he did not loosen the circle of his arms. “I could not bear to lose you again. You mean too much to me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, but a tear escaped. A whistling wind turned it to ice water on her cheek. “Yes, I will marry you.”

“At last—”

“If you will explain your reference to Lady Wynwood.”

“Oh.” He looked down at her, a flush creeping up his neck. “I asked her for a particular place to have this conversation with you.”

“A windy rooftop?”

“It sounded romantic at the time.”

She smiled at him, and he kissed her.

A few minutes later he said, “I told Lady Wynwood that I wanted a place where you would feel loved, and beautiful.”

She turned toward the copula, the glass panels gleaming. Thou God seest me.

“She was right.”

His mouth descended on hers, his hands tightening on her back, and for a long while she drowned in sea rushes and mint and Gerard.

***
I hope you enjoyed The Spinster’s Christmas! I’ll leave the entire book on my blog for a little while more before taking it down.

I have knit Gerard’s red and black scarf from an 1837 pattern that was likely in use in the Regency era. If you’re a knitter, feel free to join me: http://bit.ly/KnitGerardsScarf

Stay tuned for more stories about Lady Wynwood and Mr. Sol Drydale, and the romances of their family members. And maybe even a little romance for the two of them, too. :) The next book in the Lady Wynwood series will release next year, so sign up for my email newsletter to be sure to hear when it’s available.

Buy The Spinster's Christmas:

Ebook:
Kindle
iBooks
Kobo
Nookbook

Print book:
Amazon
Createspace

Don't want to miss a post? Subscribe to my blog via email:

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The Spinster's Christmas - Chapter 21

I’m blogging the revised version of my Regency romance, The Spinster's Christmas , so you all get a chance to read it. After I post it all, I’ll take it down from my blog, so be sure to read it while it’s being posted. It is the first book in my Lady Wynwood series.

A Regency romantic mystery

Miranda Belmoore has never felt attuned to the rest of society. Her family has never understood her blunt speech and unwillingness to bow to conventional strictures, and so they have always made her feel that there is something wrong with her. Now as a poor relation in her cousin’s house, she makes plans to escape a life of drudgery and disdain from her own family members.

Naval Captain Gerard Foremont is having difficulty adjusting to life back on land, frustrated that his career has been cut short by his severely injured knee. Guilt haunts him as he sees the strain his long convalescence has had upon his parents. As they spend Christmastide with the Belmoores, he wants to help fulfill his mother’s wish to have her orphaned niece come to stay with them.

However, an enemy has infiltrated the family party, bent on revenge and determined that Twelfth Night will end in someone’s death …

Start reading here.

***
Chapter 21

Harriet was several yards from the tree where Miranda hid. She would walk past her in a minute or two.

Then a voice drifted through the trees. “Miranda!”

Oh no. It was Gerard.

Harriet’s head swiveled around, and she searched the trees behind her.

How had Gerard found them? How had he known? She could not call to him, but she could not allow Harriet to shoot at him.

“Miranda!”

Miranda had not moved, had barely breathed, but a clump of snow from a branch above her dropped down. It collided with more snow-covered branches, and suddenly there was a cascade of snow that rained upon the ground, the only movement in the forest.

Harriet looked up. Saw Miranda hugging the tree limb. And fired the pistol.

Searing pain exploded in her shoulder. She saw stars. She felt her hands sliding over the tree bark, then forced herself to grip more tightly. But her limbs would not respond as they ought. She slid sideways on the branch and clutched at it with her legs, with her arms. Fire lanced up her shoulder.

But Harriet had fired the pistol. She could not shoot Gerard now.

Harriet gave a wordless cry of fury. Miranda risked a glance over her shoulder and had a tilted view of Harriet throwing the pistol to the ground, then rushing toward the tree. The branch began to sway beneath her hands as Harriet climbed.

“Gerard!” Miranda began to inch farther away from the trunk, from Harriet.

Running footsteps. Harriet’s two men were approaching. They would overpower Gerard.

But then she heard the sound of horses’ hooves pounding through the woods, thudding with her heartbeat. Not one horse, but at least two. Possibly three?

“Miranda!” But he was still too far away.

“Gerard!” Her cry turned into a shriek as the branch she clung to dipped violently. Her hands slipped an inch but she gripped more tightly with her legs.

“Fall, you miserable—” Harriet’s voice was horrible, like a pit of snakes and venom. She threw her body again at Miranda’s branch.

The branch of the old oak was large all around, but Miranda had moved away from the stable trunk. The branch creaked and pitched with Harriet’s weight, combined with Miranda’s. She yelped as it tilted downward for an agonizing moment, then flipped upward. Her legs slid against her skirts, loosening her grip on the branch.

Harriet began inching toward Miranda along its length.

The snorting of a horse. No, at least two horses emerging from between the trees. Men grunting, tussling along the ground.

And then the jingle of a bridle directly below her.

“Miranda, jump!” Gerard told her.

She couldn’t see him, but she remembered how far away the ground had been.

“I will catch you, I promise,” Gerard called.

He had said the same thing when they were playing Robin Hood in these woods. She had been trapped in the evil Prince John’s tower and he’d ridden up on his pony to rescue her.

As she recalled, instead of falling into his arms, she’d bounced off the rump of the pony and then tumbled to the ground. She’d also been only half as far from the ground then as she was now. But she trusted him.

She let go of the branch.

Her shriek tore from her throat as she fell, wind rushing past her ears. Her skirts caught in some twigs, making her twist in midair so that she saw Gerard’s wide eyes the moment before she collided with him. The breath was punched out of her lungs.

He swayed backward on his mount, but his arms closed tightly around her. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”

“Gerard, move!” shouted Michael.

The horse jolted forward under her, pushing her against Gerard and making him reel backward for a moment.

There was strangely no sound, then a horrible rending thud.

“Oh, God,” Mr. Drydale said.

Gerard twisted to look back, then pressed Miranda’s head against his shoulder. “Don’t look.”

“She tried to jump onto your horse,” Mr. Drydale said in a weak voice. “But she did not jump far enough …”

Miranda shuddered and buried her head against Gerard’s chest. She remembered how high she’d been off the ground. She remembered the protruding branches on the fallen tree trunk that had thrust out into the air.

“Ride back,” Michael said. “I’ll stay here with these two. Bring some rope.”

She looked toward him and saw Harriet’s two men motionless on the ground.

Gerard’s arms gathered her close as he turned the horse around. Miranda could feel his heartbeat next to her cheek, the rise and fall of each breath.

“It’s over.”

***
Next blog post: Chapter 22

Buy The Spinster's Christmas:

Ebook:
Kindle
iBooks
Kobo
Nookbook

Print book:
Amazon
Createspace

Don't want to miss a post? Subscribe to my blog via email:

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The Spinster's Christmas - Chapter 20

I’m blogging the revised version of my Regency romance, The Spinster's Christmas , so you all get a chance to read it. After I post it all, I’ll take it down from my blog, so be sure to read it while it’s being posted. It is the first book in my Lady Wynwood series.

A Regency romantic mystery

Miranda Belmoore has never felt attuned to the rest of society. Her family has never understood her blunt speech and unwillingness to bow to conventional strictures, and so they have always made her feel that there is something wrong with her. Now as a poor relation in her cousin’s house, she makes plans to escape a life of drudgery and disdain from her own family members.

Naval Captain Gerard Foremont is having difficulty adjusting to life back on land, frustrated that his career has been cut short by his severely injured knee. Guilt haunts him as he sees the strain his long convalescence has had upon his parents. As they spend Christmastide with the Belmoores, he wants to help fulfill his mother’s wish to have her orphaned niece come to stay with them.

However, an enemy has infiltrated the family party, bent on revenge and determined that Twelfth Night will end in someone’s death …

Start reading here.

***
Chapter 20

It was purely his foul mood that led Gerard to the library. Soon the bell would sound to dress for the New Year’s Eve dinner party, but he only wanted a glass or two of Cecil’s mediocre brandy.

He had never before proposed to a woman. It was just his luck that he would receive such a resounding refusal on his first attempt.

And then he’d kissed her like a desperate schoolboy.

And then she’d kissed him.

And then …

He knew logically she had been deliberately trying to push him away, but the word had been like a blow to his stomach.

She knows how to hurt you, old chap. T’would be best not to get close to anyone at all.

No. Miranda might live her life by that sentiment, but he would show her that to live without love was worse.

Her kiss had simply reinforced the fact that Miranda anchored him. Home, for him, was wherever she was.

His thoughts drew him to the library windows, which was why he immediately saw Michael running across the south lawn, carrying a child.

Ellie.

Gerard hobbled out of the library and nearly broke his neck racing down the stairs.

“Captain Foremont!” Mr. Drydale sounded from the landing above him but Gerard did not stop until he met Michael in the large circular entry hall. Ellie was crying, partly from the jostling of Michael’s running and partly from fear of the stranger holding her. She reached for Gerard as soon as she saw him, and he had to drop a crutch in order to take her in his arms.

“Miranda,” Michael panted. “Coach. Harriet.”

Ice water dashed down his spine. “Where?”

Michael shook his head. “Carriage.”

Yes, they could overtake a coach with Cecil’s lightest carriage. But Ellie …

“I’ll drive.” Mr. Drydale suddenly appeared at his elbow. “Lieutenant, run ahead to the stables to tell the grooms. Captain, give Ellie to Laura.”

Laura? Gerard looked around and saw Lady Wynwood hurrying down the stairs. “What is it?”

“I’ll explain later.” Gerard handed over Ellie, who went willingly to Lady Wynwood.

Michael had already disappeared. Mr. Drydale handed Gerard his dropped crutch and the two of them headed to the stables. Once there, they discovered the horses just being harnessed to Cecil’s carriage, but the grooms were reluctant to saddle a horse for Michael until Mr. Drydale shouted at them.

While they waited, Michael explained, “I happened to see Miranda and a maid walking toward the forest. It looked suspicious because Miranda knows she’s in danger and she wouldn’t leave with only a maid. I followed and saw a strange woman with a travelling coach stopped on the south track. Ellie was already there in the coach. They traded Miranda for Ellie, as well as a bag of coins for the maid.”

“That’s how they got Miranda out of the house,” Gerard said. “The woman was Harriet?”

“Yes. I waylaid the maid and Ellie when they headed back to the house,” Michael said. “I let the maid go in order to get Ellie back here quickly. The coach is going to London.”

They could still stop them. Michael had found them quickly because by the grace of God Gerard had been at those library windows and Mr. Drydale had seen Gerard rushing down the staircase.

Mr. Drydale was the better driver and took the reins, driving expertly along the road at a frantic pace. Gerard explained about Harriet and Miranda.

“There is only one road they can take to London until they reach the turnpike road,” Mr. Drydale said. “We will be able to overtake them before then.”

Seated beside him, Gerard felt useless, helpless. When he was able to do something, to occupy his hands, he could focus. Now, his thoughts crowded in his mind like cackling demons. He pushed them aside with difficulty.

God help me, I can’t fail her now.

And then he heard a voice that was not a voice. She is in My hands. Be at peace.

The demons ceased. His mind cleared.

He would find her. He knew because even though his injury had sent him back to England, it was here that he had found Miranda. The tightness in his chest eased, like the sting of a burn slowly fading.

Then they rounded a bend and saw a coach stopped along the side of the road. Michael, riding ahead of them, had already pulled up and dismounted.

“Whoa!” Mr. Drydale reined in the horses.

The coach was empty, the door open. The horses hitched to it were placid hacks who seemed only too glad for a rest and barely twitched an ear at the newcomers.

Gerard jumped down from the carriage, landing hard on his good leg and just barely preventing himself from falling by sticking out one of his crutches.

“You fool,” Mr. Drydale shouted to him.

Gerard ignored him, because a flash of red and black had caught his eye.

It lay on the ground toward the edge of the woods. He knew it before he had reached it and picked it up. His scarf, the one he had given to Miranda. He looked out into the woods, but saw nothing but trees and snow and shadow.

“She escaped.” Gerard couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth.

“They went after her into the woods,” Michael said.

“Unhitch one of the gig horses. I must go after them.”

“Your leg—”

“Hang my leg!”

He hadn’t ridden a horse for months even before his accident, and he did not have the leg strength to guide it with his knees. But he could not make his way through the woods with his blasted crutches and he would not be left behind.

The horses were unhitched, and Gerard did not even feel a frisson of irritation that he needed Michael’s help to slide on bareback. He hissed as the position stretched and pulled painfully at the tendons in his joint, but pointed the horse quickly toward the woods.

He rode as fast as he dared, Mr. Drydale several yards to his left and Michael on his right. Low-hanging branches nearly took his head off a few times, so he crouched down over the horse’s neck. Pain pounded up his knee with each step the horse took, but he gritted his teeth and rode on. Even if he could not walk after he slid down from this horse, he would not go back until he found her.

“Miranda!” His voice sounded strangely muffled, surrounded as they were by the trees and snow. He strained it to call more loudly, “Miranda!”

Then suddenly came the sound of a single gunshot.

***
Next blog post: Chapter 21

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The Spinster's Christmas - Chapter 19b

I’m blogging the revised version of my Regency romance, The Spinster's Christmas , so you all get a chance to read it. After I post it all, I’ll take it down from my blog, so be sure to read it while it’s being posted. It is the first book in my Lady Wynwood series.

A Regency romantic mystery

Miranda Belmoore has never felt attuned to the rest of society. Her family has never understood her blunt speech and unwillingness to bow to conventional strictures, and so they have always made her feel that there is something wrong with her. Now as a poor relation in her cousin’s house, she makes plans to escape a life of drudgery and disdain from her own family members.

Naval Captain Gerard Foremont is having difficulty adjusting to life back on land, frustrated that his career has been cut short by his severely injured knee. Guilt haunts him as he sees the strain his long convalescence has had upon his parents. As they spend Christmastide with the Belmoores, he wants to help fulfill his mother’s wish to have her orphaned niece come to stay with them.

However, an enemy has infiltrated the family party, bent on revenge and determined that Twelfth Night will end in someone’s death …

Start reading here.

***
Chapter 19b

She landed hard on her shoulder, rolling on the ground and onto the side of the road. She hit the base of a tree hard enough to rattle her teeth, but she didn’t pause even for breath. She scrambled to her feet, ripping the scarf from her throat to fling it aside, and plunged into the woods.

Her cloak flapped behind her, and she reached back to grasp the cloth and hold it closer so it would not catch on any branches or bushes. The wind of her passing caught her bonnet, its ribbons pulling at her throat. She scrabbled at the ends and untied it, and it flew from her head. She would be colder, but she could see more clearly around her.

Behind her came the sound of thrashing through the underbrush. She darted around the trees along a twisting path, and slowly the thrashing grew fainter.

She had to find a way to hide. What could she do?

Oh, Gerard. But Gerard would not find her.

Dear God, help me!

She had not noticed the trees around her as she ran, but she suddenly spied one that looked familiar, an old rambling oak that she and her cousins had enjoyed climbing. They had been Robin Hood’s merry band, waiting to pounce on unwary travelers. They had liked the tree because although the lowest limb was above their reach, a large fallen tree trunk was nestled at the base that they could climb to reach the lowest branch.

She hiked up her skirt and scrambled up on of the fallen trunk, which was taller than a table. It had protruding sharp branches that thrust straight up into the air, which she used to pull herself up, gritting her teeth against the pain in her injured shoulder. Standing on the fallen trunk, she reached for the lowest limb of the ancient oak, which was now even with her chin, and with a little hop, pushed herself up. She was not as limber as she had been at twelve, trying to keep up with Gerard, and each movement sent shafts of pain through her shoulder, but she swung her legs up, hampered by heavy skirts, to straddle the branch. She stood and continued to climb.

The branches were thick, reaching outward from the massive trunk, and ice coated the smaller limbs like white leaves. The snow rained down as she climbed higher. She lay astride a large branch far above the ground, pulling her skirts and legs up, hoping the barrel-like circumference would mostly hide her from view from below. Gerard had once hidden from his playmates by laying on his back, but she was not so brave as to flip over and release her grip on the oak.

And then she waited.

A few clumps of snow drifted down, then all was still. She strained her ears to hear Harriet or the two men, but perhaps they had stopped to listen, as well.

Oh God, help me. She squeezed her eyes shut, resting her forehead against the cold rough bark.

But suddenly, all she could hear in her mind was Cousin Laura’s voice saying, “Thou God seest me.”

Why should God see her or help her? She had done a terrible thing to Harriet. She had not believed that God would care about her.

What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?

She had to believe. Thou God seest me.

Help me, please. Send help.

Steps picking their way slowly through the brush. Coming closer.

Miranda peeked down and realized that because the trees grew so thickly, the ground had very little snow, and was unable to give away her path through them. The steps came closer, but they were passing along the far side of the tree.

She risked another look, and her throat closed up.

Harriet was walking through the forest, one hand clutching her cloak, and the other holding a pistol.

***
Next blog post: Chapter 20

Buy The Spinster's Christmas:

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