Tag Archives: #Regency

Valentines from Bath: Regency Love Stories for Valentine’s Day!

The Bluestocking Belles Present:

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Valentines from Bath – Regency love stories for Valentine’s Day!

Available for pre-order for only .99 – available February 9th, 2019!

In five original stories, Jessica Cale, Sherry Ewing, Jude Knight, Amy Quinton, and Caroline Warfield bring you Valentines From Bath…

The Master of Ceremonies announces a great ball to be held on Valentine’s Day in the Upper Assembly Rooms of Bath.

Ladies of the highest rank—and some who wish they were—scheme, prepare, and compete to make best use of the opportunity.

Dukes, earls, tradesmen, and the occasional charlatan are alert to the possibilities as the event draws nigh.

But anything can happen in the magic of music and candlelight as couples dance, flirt, and open themselves to romantic possibilities. Problems and conflict may just fade away at a Valentine’s Day Ball.

25% of all our sales will be donated to the Malala Fund! You can go here: https://www.malala.org/ for more information on the Malala Fund.

The Umbrella Chronicles

John and Emma’s story

By Amy Quinton

A serious-minded, scientific man of learning seeks a complex and chaotic practitioner of all things superstitious who will upend his well-ordered life.

The Umbrella Strikes Again! Another Bachelor Has Fallen!

England, 1815…

Dr. John Edward Hartwell needs assistance, though not quite the kind of help he might think. True, he is well-organized, tidy, and pathologically set in his ways—a more serious-minded man one might never find.

But in his ways, I have determined, lies misery.

Enter Miss Annie Merryweather—a woman who is as lovely as she is chaotic. She is the perfect candidate to compliment our man of numbers and logical focus, bringing sunshine and superstition to redirect him away from a future of certain wretchedness.

Oh, aye, I said superstition.

And now that she has been categorically convinced that they are destined to be together—the signs, you see—no one can stand in her way, for she is as tenacious and optimistic as she is beautiful.

And none can resist her smile.

If I have anything to say about matters, and I always have something to say about matters, the signs will point the way.

They already have.

Lady Harriett Ross,

Self-proclaimed Motley Meddler * Mistress of Destiny * Wielder of the Infamous Umbrella

I’m just an old woman with opinions. On everything.

 

 

The Magic Ring – Bluestocking Belles’ Follow Your Star Home Blog Hop

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Welcome to my stop in the Bluestocking Belles’ Follow Your Star Home blog hop. Read on for a free short story about one of the many travels of the magic ring — the same ring that appears in all of the stories in Follow Your Star Home, our 2018 Holiday anthology — and comment for an entry in our holiday prize. Then, go to our blog hop page for links to the other Belles’ stories and for more information about our giveaway.

The blog hop is running for a fortnight, so keep checking back frequently to see if a new story has been posted.

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7 January 1815

Dearest Rebecca,

I hope all is well with you. I have the most exciting news to share. I have found the Lost Ring of Frigg! I am enclosing it as a gift for you, for I fear you could use its power far more than I.

Use it well and with all my heart.

-Emma Merryweather
Bloomfield Park
Bath, England

The letter above left Bloomfield Park the very afternoon of the 7th of January and bore witness to a somewhat incredible, though small in the grand scheme of things, series of events on its journey north before arriving at its final destination: Scotland.

Here is one of those stories:

Day One…

He was running terribly late.

George Torchwood scooped up the outgoing post from the silver salver in the front hall of Bloomfield Park and darted down the hall, across the kitchen, and out the rear servant’s entrance, headed for the stables. Lady Ross had specifically instructed him to deliver the pile of letters to the post office in Bath before the last mail coach departed. He only had thirty minutes; this was going to be close.

The stablemaster met him at the grand doors to Bloomfield Park’s magnificent stables, reins in hand and guiding a beautiful black mare, all saddled and ready. The burly man rubbed a hand down her muzzle. “She’s the fastest we have to hand at the moment, George.”

George reached for the saddle horn, his bag of mail slung over one shoulder, slid his foot into the stirrup, and hoisted himself onto the mare. Once settled, he patted the horse’s neck affectionately. “Aye, I’ve ridden Andromeda before; she’ll do.”

Ten minutes later, George was half way to Bath and making adequate time when a loud crack sounded, echoing loudly through the air. He turned in time to see a sizable limb falling from the sky towards him.

Then, nothing.

Day Two…

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and vaguely familiar.

George blinked his bleary eyes and tried to focus on the angelic face hovering above him. On instinct, he attempted to sit up, but the woman laid a gentle yet firm hand on his shoulder. “Easy now. Ye’ve taken a nasty tumble.”

He settled back into the soft pillows beneath him and felt a feint stab of discomfort. He reached up to touch his forehead, only distantly noting the strange added weight on his hand. He lightly probed his face and winced when he touched a goose-egg-sized lump at his hairline.

The woman pulled his hand away. “Oh, you. Leave it be.”

He smiled at her concern and the strength behind her command. He cleared his throat and blurted out, “Name’s George.”

Smooth, George. Quite, smooth.

She blushed slightly and dipped her head. “Moira.”

“Moira…” he repeated, his voice laced with awe. And then she smiled, and he suddenly remembered why she’d seemed vaguely familiar. He’d seen her at a village fair last summer, where he’d been helping his sister sell her hand-made embroidered linens. They’d never had a chance to speak, and he’d been largely disappointed when he’d finally managed to break away and couldn’t find her. She could have been from anywhere; he himself hadn’t been local. “I remember you…at the fair…near Oxford?”

Her face brightened. “Yes, that’s it.” She had a nice laugh. She dipped her head as if offering him a curtsey. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Indeed.” Finally!

He glanced away, to hide just how large a grin he wore, and realized she still held both his hands in hers. He noted her absently rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles. He quite liked her touch. He liked her touch quite a bit, indeed. Her skin was so warm, so soft.

Once again, they shared shy smiles, then glanced away. This time, he felt a slight blush rise in his own cheeks.

It was then that he fully noted the abnormal weight on his hand, for he wore a man’s ring, gold with a star engraved on the top. “What is this?” he asked, his eyes darting toward the ring in question.

Moira followed his gaze. “I don’t know. You were wearing it when I found you.”

“That’s impossible.” He’d never seen it before. Besides, that ring was probably worth more than he made in a year, perhaps more. “It’s not mine.”

For a moment, they both stared at it, equally confused.

“That is strange.” She met his eyes. “Do you remember what happened?”

He made to put a hand to his brow, and she squeezed his hands to stop him.

“Thanks.” That would have bloody well hurt. “Um. There was a loud crack, then I spun about in my saddle in time to see a large tree branch falling towards me, but not enough time to dodge it. Then, nothing.” Once again, he tried to run his hands through his hair, and once again, she held on tight. Apparently, he performed the gesture more often than he realized.

She frowned; her forehead wrinkled adorably. “There wasn’t a branch nearby where we found you.”

That was strange. “My horse?”

She nodded. “Tethered in the lean-to ‘round back.”

“Oh God, my bag of letters? What day is it?” He tried to sit.

“Shhh… they’re over there.” She gestured towards a corner of the room where his bag lay. “And it’s the 8th of January.”

This time he had to bite his tongue as he successfully pulled his hand free and ran it down his face. Right over his injury. But never mind that. “Oh, no, Lady Ross wanted those letters to the post office yesterday; she’ll be cross.”

Moira shook her head. “Lady Ross will understand. She may be opinionated, but she’s a generous sort.”

“You know her?”

Moira laughed and shrugged. “Who doesn’t? She’s infamous…and a neighbor.”

“Still—” George once again attempted to sit. “I must go. I must…”

Moira stayed him with a hand to his chest. “It’ll keep, George. You’ll be dizzy with that nasty bump; give it a day. There’s nothing in that bag worth risking further injury for, I’m sure.” She gently pulled back a lock of his hair that had fallen over his eye.

Aye. Maybe, she was right.

That night, as he settled down to sleep, he removed the strange star-ring and placed it on the table by the bed. He smiled as he drifted off, more than pleased to have found his mystery woman from the fair; she was as wonderful as he’d imagined she’d be.

And in the morning, neither one of them remembered the mysterious ring, nor noticed that it was gone; it’s job complete.

Where did it go, you ask? Well, that is a story for another day.

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FYSH Quinton Blurb

Never Too Late – Available Now!

My latest short story, the first in the Umbrella Chronicles, is available now via Never Too Late – A Bluestocking Belles Collection, and it is only $.99 for a limited time!

It’s Never Too Late to find love!

Never Too Late 3D Book

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Eight authors and eight different takes on four dramatic elements selected by our readers—an older heroine, a wise man, a Bible, and a compromising situation that isn’t.

Set in a variety of locations around the world over eight centuries, welcome to the romance of the Bluestocking Belles’ 2017 Holiday Anthology and More.

25% of all our sales will be donated to the Malala Fund! You can go here: https://www.malala.org/ for more information on the Malala Fund.

The Umbrella Chronicles

George & Dorothea’s Story

by Amy Quinton

The Umbrella Strikes Again: St. Vincent’s downfall (aka betrothal) is assured.

George St. Vincent doesn’t realize it, but his days as a bachelor in good standing are numbered.

He has a fortnight, to be precise—the duration of the Dansbury House party.

For I, Lady Harriett Ross, have committed to parting with several items of sentimental worth should I fail to orchestrate his downfall—er, betrothal—to Miss Dorothea Wythe, who is delightful, brilliant, and interested (or will be).

If I have anything to say about matters, and I always have something to say about matters, they’re both doomed.

Did I say doomed? I mean, destined—to a life filled with love.

I’m just an old woman with opinions. On everything.

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How to Take Revenge on a Disloyal Scot…

It’s here!  Available now as a stand-a-lone short story on Amazon…to buy or through Kindle Unlimited!

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Love is…

Revenge? Because what else’s a girl supposed to do when she learns the man she loves has found himself a bride?

Probably found himself a bride.

All right according to rumor found himself a bride.

Really, what else could have kept him away for eight solid months? Gambling? He was awful at cards. The Theater? He hated the opera. A political position in Parliament? Ha!

No, No, and hell, No.

Regardless of his excuses, Jamie Ferguson (the Disloyal-er) was not going to get away with throwing over Wilhelmina Rutherford (the Disloyal-ee) for anything or anyone, especially some nameless London tart.

Ergo, revenge and a cunning-nothing-could-possibly-go-wrong-here plan:

  1. Run Him to Ground
  2. Make Him Squirm
  3. Show Him You’re Indifferent
  4. Let Him Brood
  5. Enlist Reinforcements to Your Cause
  6. Show Him What He’s Missing
  7. Tell Him Goodbye

What could possibly go wrong?

*This is a short story and was originally published as part of the Love Is…Winter Romance multi-author charity anthology.

Buy it on Amazon today!

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A New Historical Short…

It’s finally here, my latest historical short: How to Take Revenge on a Disloyal Scot. This short is part of the Love Is…Winter Romance anthology, a multi-author collaboration to benefit children’s literacy programs. All proceeds go to charity!

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How to Take Revenge on a Disloyal Scot

Love is…

Revenge? Because what else’s a girl supposed to do when she learns the man she loves has found himself a bride?

Probably found himself a bride.

All right, according to rumor found himself a bride.

Really, what else could have kept him away for eight solid months? Gambling? He was awful at cards. The Theater? He hated the opera. A political position in Parliament? Ha!

No, No, and hell, No.

Regardless of his excuses, Jamie Ferguson (the Disloyal-er) was not going to get away with throwing over Wilhelmina Rutherford (the Disloyal-ee) for anything or anyone, especially some nameless London tart.

Ergo, revenge and a cunning-nothing-could-possibly-go-wrong-here plan:

  1. Run Him to Ground
  2. Make Him Squirm
  3. Show Him You’re Indifferent
  4. Let Him Brood
  5. Enlist Reinforcements to Your Cause
  6. Show Him What He’s Missing
  7. Tell Him Goodbye

What could possibly go wrong?

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I Spy a Duke on Sale for the 1st Time!

Woot – Look what is on sale now!

ISPYADUKE
Regency? Check

Spies? Check

Duke? Check

Fantastic Author? Check

What are you waiting for?

 

Regular Price: $3.99

Sale Price: $0.99

On sale July 25-August 6.

Blurb:

In the first Covert Heiresses novel, a governess with a desire for revenge enters into a marriage of convenience with a duke with more secrets than she anticipated…

SHE WANTS REVENGE…

When bluestocking Vivian Loren becomes the governess for the wealthy Spencer family, she’s searching for clues about the murder of her brother, not a husband. But Vivian didn’t count on James Spencer, the infuriatingly handsome Duke of Abermont.

HE NEEDS A WIFE…

As head of Britain’s elite intelligence agency, James has no time to woo a wife. When he discovers Vivian’s quest for answers has made her a pawn in a treacherous plot, James realizes they can help each other. She’ll become his duchess, and he’ll keep her safe from one of Napoleon’s deadliest spies.

What begins as a marriage of convenience quickly becomes anything but, as they find out love is the most dangerous mission of all.

Genre: Historical Romance – Regency Romance, Historical Romantic Suspense

Series: Covert Heiresses, Book 1

Release Date: October 5, 2015

“Monroe creates an entertaining albeit slightly dark world filled with spies, humor, wit, intrigue, suspense, and an emotionally rich romance. Though heavily character driven, Monroe does a wonderful job of balancing the dynamic characterization of her characters with a story rich in details and plotlines.” –Smexy Books

“Filled with intrigue, danger, spies, loss,grief, secrets, passion, engaging characters, to say the least and of course romance, passion and finally finding love amongst grief and angst…feisty, dangerous and courageous females makes this a not to miss series.” –My Book Addiction

“A quick moving espionage subplot coupled with liberally peppered humor, introspection, kindness and simmering attraction adds to the momentum of this novel. Showcasing this author’s writing talent and marvelous imagination I Spy a Duke could easily be called I Spy a Great Read!” –Jenerated Reviews

“I get as giddy as a schoolgirl when an Erica Monroe Historical is going to be released! Ms. Monroe always makes the time period and the British settings come alive with the glorious details that she provides. And then her characters are so engaging: serious, vulnerable, and loyal.” –Lightning City Book Reviews

 

Buy Links:

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All Romance E-Books: http://bit.ly/1JvdnkM

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2akmbPO

 

Reach Out to Erica:

Daring Dames Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/DaringDames

Web: http://ericamonroe.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/ericajmonroe

Friend her on Facebook: http://facebook.com/ericamonroeauthor

Like her Facebook page: http://facebook.com/ericamonroewrites

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/regencyerica

Tumblr: http://ericamonroewrites.tumblr.com

Instagram: http://instagram.com/ericamonroewrites

 

Excerpt:

********In this excerpt, after an encounter with James the night before, Vivian has second thoughts about having accepted the governess job under false pretenses.********

She was a terrible person.

She had to be. Because only a truly terrible person would sit there for an hour with the Duke of Abermont, listening to him pour his heart out, and still lie to him.

Vivian could almost still taste the brandy on her tongue from the finger they’d taken together last night. To survivors, he’d said, but she didn’t feel like a survivor. The life she’d known—the stability she’d once prided herself on—had disappeared the night she’d had to identify his mangled body in the coroner’s office.

Smoothing a hand down her walking dress, she took a seat on a bench in the rambling garden of the Abermont estate. A few paces in front of her, her young charge Thomas Spencer squatted down on the ground, picking up various small pebbles that made up the rocky path. Every now and then, he looked back at her, as if needing confirmation that she was still there. As if somehow, even at the tender age of five, he still could sense that her time here was limited. That she was poised to flee at any moment.

This was all a ruse, and she had no right to dream about it becoming permanent.

***Part of a cross promotional sale with Emma Locke (The Trouble With Being Wicked), Christina McKnight (Hidden No More) and Kirsten Blacketer (The Jewel of Winter) who also have titles for $0.99 during this time.***