Category Archives: historical romance

THE THINGS WE LEARN WRITING HISTORICAL ROMANCE

08 Friday Jul 2011

Posted by in Amber Leigh Williams, books, historical romance, history, love stories, TWRP

≈ 7 Comments

Today, fellow Wild Rose Press author, Amber Leigh Williams is my guest and this is Amber’s blog…

THE THINGS WE LEARN WRITING HISTORICAL ROMANCE….

 When I decided to write a book based in ‘40’s-era Italy, I was shocked by how little information there was on the Verona region of Veneto. World War II was the first highly-photographed, -recorded, and -documented war in history. There was very little to work with in photos, reels, battle sequences, and cultural details from 1944-1945 Italy.

But that was ten years ago. Between then and the final draft of my historical romance Forever Amore, detailed books on the subject were published. I was delighted when I happened to peruse the WWII section of the Military aisle at my local bookstore. On my sixth and final revision of the novel, I used some of the information in these books to add scenes that involved Lucille, the heroine, trying to find Charles, the hero working as a spy, in Nazi-occupied Milan. The new elements not only adrenalized the formerly-lagging middle: it gave the story underlying layers of suspense and intrigue.

Fashion was an important issue to contend with, as it should be in any historical romance. Lucille comes from a wealthy, almost aristocratic, wine-making family and Italy is one of the most fashionable countries in the world so when it came time to dress her, her sisters, and the other members of her family, they had to have the finest, most luxurious wardrobes in period fashion. The problem, however, I discovered was that the story begins in March 1944…a time when rationing was in full effect. Lucky for me, conservative fashion came back with a vengeance after the promiscuous ’20′s and the slinky women’s wear of the ’30′s. This made it easy to add a collar or high neck to all of Lucille’s blouses and gowns in order to hide Charles’s dog-tags, which she wears underneath.

Another important research aspect of Forever Amore was the vineyard sequences. In the original draft, Lucille is giving Charles a tour of Villa Renaldi, her family’s expansive estate. I eventually cut the twenty-five pages spent detailing how grapes are grown and harvested and how winery machinery works (the technology used in the ’40′s-era Italy, that is). Though this information was not necessary for the overall story, it was good to fall back on for reference during seasonal transitions. When spring rolls into summer, the vines are growing taller, easily cloaking Lucille and Charles’s twilight rendezvous in the romantic vine labyrinth.

One of the final subjects I had to cover for this book was military. Like wine, before Forever Amore, I knew nothing about flying or fighter pilots. Movies came in handy here. I spent hours watching films that featured dogfighting just so I could learn fighter-pilot-speak. When I was happy with the terminology, I went looking for Charles’s plane. Thanks to the movie Pearl Harbor, I knew how a B-17 operated. The plane goes on to have significance in Forever Amore along with the WWII-era P-38, which I use in the opening sequence of the book to bring Charles and Lucille together. (Thanks to the Military Channel, I also learned that P-38s were some of the first planes to be steered by yokes, a term I never would’ve known or used otherwise.)

You can learn more about Forever Amore, a Best Book of 2009 nominee, at my website: www.amberleighwilliams.com

Excerpt:

Over the crackle of flames, he heard an engine approaching. Looking up, he went alert and reached for the gun at his belt when he saw the green pickup. He took a deep breath before rallying enough energy to stagger to his feet.

Charles took a step forward and blinked to clear his vision as the truck skidded to a halt and the driver and passenger doors opened.

Two figures swam through the smoky haze and Charles had to squint to make them out. One long, rangy man with a mop of black hair growing into his fierce eyes and … an angel.
His heart thudded. I’m dead. He could find no other explanation for the vision that drifted hesitantly toward him in a long, cream-colored gown and hair the color of angel wings falling in gilded glory down her shoulders.

She made a move toward him, but the man barked at her to halt, catching her by the arm. Pointing at Charles, he gave a short, terse order he couldn’t make out.

Oh, hell. Italian. Charles had less than a rudimentary inkling of the language.

The man who looked no more than twenty barked again. Charles saw him point toward his gun. With a frown, he lifted a hand to it. 

The woman gasped and the man stepped in front of her as if to shield her.

Carefully, Charles unclipped the pistol and threw it at the man’s feet.
Movements slow, the local bent and picked it up, pointing the shaking barrel at Charles’s chest while scanning him closely. “Americano?” he asked.

Now that he could understand. “Si, si. Americano.” He thought he saw relief pass over their faces before his vision dimmed. He swayed on the spot.

As he went to his knees, the woman rushed forward, snatching out of her companion’s grasp to catch Charles before he could hit the dirt again.

She looked even better up close. A pixie’s face more than an angel’s, her big green eyes yawned in concern in front of his. “You are wounded?” she asked in English thick with regional inflection but not at all broken.

Huh. Angels speak English. Thank God.
Amber,
Thanks so much for sharing and for the great excerpt. My daughter and her husband visited Italy last year and saw some of the vineyards. They didn’t go to Milan, but they were in Pizza and Cinca Terra. Italy is a beautiful country and your book sounds like a fantastic read! It’s been a pleasure having you on my blog today.

Welcome Austrailian Historical Author, Margaret Tanner

01 Friday Jul 2011

Posted by in historical romance, history, Margaret Tanner, Slightly Tarnished, The Wild Rose Press, true love, TWRP

≈ 8 Comments

WHY DOES MARGARET TANNER WRITE  AUSTRALIAN HISTORICAL ROMANCE?

Like the heroines in my novels, my forebears left their native shores in sailing ships to forge a new life in the untamed frontiers of colonial Australia. They battled bushfires, hardship and the tyranny of distance in an inhospitable and savage land, where only the tough and resilient would survive. They not only survived but prospered in ways that would not have been possible for them had they stayed in Europe.  

I would like to think I display the same tenacity. My goals are a little different from those of my forbears. I want to succeed in the publishing world.

I received my baptism of fire on the literary field of battle at an early age. I have known the highs (winning awards and having my books published), but also known the lows of the volatile publishing world. Publishing company closures, an opportunity for one of my novels to be turned into a film, only to be thwarted at the last minute by government funding cuts, and writing friends dropping off because they couldn’t get published and gave up the struggle.  

I am a fourth generation Australian. We are a tough, resilient people, and we have fought hard to find our place in the world.   We have beautiful scenery, unique wild life, and a bloodied convict history.

I am a medical audio-typist, specializing in the field of radiology.  I have a husband, three grown up sons and a cute little grand daughter.

I admire heroines who are resourceful, not afraid to fight for her family and the man she loves. I want my readers to be cheering for her, willing her to obtain her goals, to overcome the obstacles put in her way by rugged frontier men who think they only want a wife to beget sons.  A chance for revenge.  To consolidate their fortunes. That love is for fools.  Oh, the victory for the reader when these tough, ruthless men succumb to the heroine’s bravery and beauty, and are prepared to risk all, even their lives to claim her.

Then there are the brave young men who sailed thousands of miles across the sea in World War 1 to fight for mother England, the birth country of their parents and grandparents. I also wanted to write about the wives and sweethearts who often waited in vain for their loved ones to return. Who were there to nurture the returning heroes, heal their broken bodies and tormented souls.

This is why I write historical romance, even if it means trawling through dusty books in the library, haunting every historical site on the internet, badgering elderly relatives, and risking snake-bite by clambering around overgrown cemeteries.

Wild Oats from The Wild Rose Press is an EPICON 2010 Finalist.

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wild-oats-p-3893.html

 English aristocrat, Phillip Ashfield, comes to Australia to sow some “Wild Oats”.  After seducing Allison Waverley, he decides to marry an heiress to consolidate the family fortunes.  Phillip has made a fatal choice, that will not only ruin his own life, but the repercussions will be felt by the next generation.

To save Allison from the disgrace of having Phillip’s baby out of wedlock, Tommy Calvert, who has always loved Allison, marries her. Mortally wounded on the French battlefields, Tommy is found by Phillip who learns that Allison has borne him a son. He vows to claim the boy when the war is over, because his wife cannot give him an heir.

TWO CONTRASTING SCENES FROM WILD OATS

France 1916.

Captain Phillip Ashfield toasted his elevation to fatherhood, as a barrage of artillery pounded the battle scarred fields around him. No more would he have to feel Isobel’s cold, unresponding body under his as he tried to beget an heir.

 Australia 1914, just prior to Tommy’s embarkation for the war in Europe.

The lights dimmed when the Tango was introduced. Every man in the room held his partner close. This dance had made the Palais Theatre notorious. Evil, depraved and immoral were just a few of the descriptive words printed by the newspapers, but Allison liked it. Neither she nor Tommy could dance, but they soon copied the antics of others, and laughed and clapped as much as anyone.

The tempo of the place quietened when the saxophones in the band started up to accompany the man who sang, “If you were the only girl in the world, and I was the only boy…” They stood close together, listening, until it finished.

“Let’s leave now,” Tommy said, and Allison waited near the door as he went to collect her coat. He helped her into it, took her hand and they left.

Instead of making for the train station, Tommy led her towards the beach. It was a cool night, with dark clouds scudding across the sky, but numerous stars twinkled. A moist, salty breeze blew straight in off the sea, and the sand felt soft beneath her feet.

They didn’t speak, just ambled away from the lighted Palais. Except for the muted sound of the waves silence reigned on the beach, and Allison felt as if they were the last two people left in the world.

Tommy stopped and drew her close. “I love you, Allison.” He started whistling the tune. “If you were the only girl in the world, and I was the only boy,” softly in her ear and she leaned her head against his chest.

A magic spell cast itself over them. She didn’t want to speak, lest the spell be broken. Some instinct from deep within warned her this moment, once it disappeared, would never come again. She closed her eyes to shut out everything except Tommy’s nearness.

                                                                         ******

Margaret Tanner is an award winning multi-published Australian author. Her favorite historical period is the 1st World War, and she has visited the battlefields of Gallipoli, France and Belgium, a truly poignant experience.

Margaret is a member of the Romance Writers of Australia, the Melbourne Romance Writers Group (MRWG) and EPIC. She won the 2007 Author of the Year at AussieAuthors.com. She also won it for a 2nd time in 2010. Wild Oats was an EPICON 2010 Finalist

Margaret’s two publishers are – Whiskey Creek Press and The Wild Rose Press. 

Margaret’s Website: http://www.margarettanner.com/
Thanks for visiting with us today, Margaret. Our countries have much in common. As do we! We both work in radiology. I’m a radiologic technolgist  certified in mammography. But I still take diagnostic x-rays and you type the radiologist’s reports. And, we both write historal romance. Slightly Tarnished released 6/3/11 so I know how excited you are about the release of Wild Oats. Congratulations!

FROM LOINCLOTH TO THONG . . . Not so different are they?

24 Friday Jun 2011

Posted by in historical romance, history, Jennifer Jakes, Lilly Gayle, love stories, romance, romance novel, romance writer, romances

≈ 24 Comments

Today, I’m welcoming guest blogger, Jennifer Jakes who’s going to entertain us with a post on underwear!

Have at it, Jennifer!

FROM LOINCLOTH TO THONG . . . Not so different are they?
So are we moving forward or going back? Let’s take a quick look at the history of what men wear under there!

The first men’s underwear was probably the Loincloth, a simple strip of material or leather. A loincloth was also used to describe material pulled between the legs and fastened like a diaper. Not a good look for anyone 😦 Greek and Roman men reportedly wore loinclothes.


During the Middle Ages, loinclothes were replaced by loose trouser-like pants called Braies. Braies were a step-in design and laced at the waist and mid-calf. Wealthy men also wore chausses.- tights worn over the legs and feet.


By Renaissance, braies became shorter to accommodate longer styles of chausses — and chausses gave way to hose. The hose were two separate legs leaving their genitals uncovered. (Men could wear underdrawers) Hence, the Codpiece came into use. Over time, codpieces became padded to emphasize rather than to conceal, reaching their peak of size and decoration in the 1540s before falling out of use by the 1590s. (Since neither braies nor chausses were meant to be worn beneath they weren’t technically underwear.)

Braies were replaced by cotton, silk or linen drawers which were worn for years and years and years. And years. I couldn’t find much information on how much — if any — the basic design changed. However, in the mid 1800’s mass production of underwear began and people started to buy their drawers instead of making them at home. The Unionsuit also became popular in the mid 1800’s — 1868 actually — and had the drop seat in the back.

In 1874, the Jock Strap came along to provide support for the bicycle jockeys riding upon cobblestone streets.

The first underwear print ad ran in the Saturday Evening Post in 1911, an oil painting, not a picture. That would have been indecent! In WWI soldiers were issued button front shorts though they were often still worn with a union suit. (Which by the way became 2 pieces in 1910 – what we call long-johns).

By 1935 Coopers Inc. sold the world’s first men’s briefs, the design dubbed Jockey since it provided the support once only offered by a jock strap. 30,000 pairs of new Jockeys sold within the first 3 months of introduction. In the 1950’s manufacturers began to make men’s underwear from colored and/or printed material. In the 1970’s and 1980’s advertisers began appealing to the sexual side of selling, foregoing the long time ad practice of comfort and durability. Speaking of comfort – or lack thereof – the thong became popular in the 1990’s.

So, what do you prefer on your man? Boxer, brief, thong . . . loincloth?

Jennifer Jakes western historical, Rafe’s Remption is now available from http://www.wilderroses.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=156&products_id=812

Blurb:
He rode into town to buy supplies, not a woman.

For hunted recluse Rafe McBride, the raven-haired beauty on the auction block is exactly what he doesn’t need. A dependent woman will be another clue his vengeful stepbrother can use to find and kill him. But Rafe’s conscience won’t let him leave another innocent’s virginity to the riff-raff bidding. He buys her, promising to return her to St. Louis untouched. He only prays the impending blizzard holds off before her sultry beauty breaks his willpower.
She wanted freedom, not a lover.

Whisked to the auction block by her devious, gambling cousin, and then sold into the arms of a gorgeous stranger, outspoken artist Maggie Monroe isn’t about to go meekly. Especially when the rugged mountain man looks like sin and danger rolled into one. But a blizzard and temptation thrust them together, and Maggie yearns to explore her smoldering passion for Rafe.

But when the snow clears, will the danger and secrets that surround Rafe and Maggie tear them apart?

Excerpt:
Oh, Lord. He was going to kiss her. She shouldn’t want this. She was confused enough. Respectable women didn’t kiss men they barely knew, certainly not men who made them have wild, exotic dreams.

It was crazy. He was making her want crazy things. Making her not give a damn about her reputation or her virginity. Or her long-awaited freedom. All she could think about was that dream, and the way his sinful mouth had felt. The table was only a step away, and honey was just as sweet as peach juice…

She swallowed hard and looked up into his hooded eyes.

“Maggie,” he groaned. “Don’t be scared. I’d never hurt you.”

Her mouth parted to object, but firm lips covered hers, hungry, demanding. She gasped, shocked at his hunger, but even more at the illicit response coursing through her. An aching heat unfurled low in her stomach, pulsed between her legs. Oh, yes. It started just like in the dream

He deepened the kiss, coaxed her lips with his warm tongue. Long, languid strokes teased the inside of her mouth, encouraging, tempting before he pulled back to nibble the corners of her lips.

Oh, God. Is this what all kisses felt like? Hot, lethargic? Melting her like molasses over warm bread?

“Kiss me, Maggie,” he breathed.

Thanks so much for this fun and fascinating post, Jennifer. And, BTW, I prefer briefs on a man. lol!

Another Release Date!

21 Tuesday Jun 2011

Posted by in American historical, historical romance, Lilly Gayle, love story, romance novel, romance writer, romances, The Wild Rose Press, TWRP, Victorian Romance, Wholesale Husband

≈ 5 Comments

I’m shocked and surprised. Slightly Tarnished was just released June 3, so I thought I’d have until at least December before I had to start promoting Wholesale Husband. But, for once, I’m glad I was wrong. The release date for Wholesale Husband is September 28th.

Here’s a blurb:

 

She needs his name. He needs her money. But can a rich New York socialite and a poor Irish immigrant find true love in the gilded age?

Betrayed by her fiancé and heart sick over her father’s death, Clarissa Burdick is further devastated when she learns she can’t inherit her father’s company—the company she loves—until she’s twenty-five or married. And Clarissa is neither. So she sets out to find a husband strong enough to protect her from her uncle’s thugs, too uneducated to run the company himself, and poor enough to marry a woman in name only.  But Irish immigrant Devin Flannery is smarter than he seems and more educated than Clarissa expects.  Her Wholesale Husband soon proves a greater risk to her heart than her company.

And an excerpt:

“This is a serious proposal,” she insisted, gnawing her lip.

            “Who are you codding?” He leaned forward, stretching his leg, ready to descend from the suffocating confinement of the hansom cab.

            Again, she stayed him with a touch and again, his body reacted to the contact in a most unwanted way. He narrowed his eyes and pried her hand from his wrist.

            “Surely, you’ve heard of marriages of convenience,” she insisted rather desperately as she rubbed her wrist. “Well, this is an honest proposal. If you come with me to Mr. Tate’s office, I can give you a copy of the contract outlining a proposed marriage agreement between us. If you don’t trust my word or that of my attorney’s, then you can find someone to read the documents to you before you sign them.”

            She rubbed her wrist again. He considered apologizing for his rough handling but after her last comment, he thought better of it. Even after he’d confessed to some schooling, she still thought him too stupid to read.

Well, if she wanted a dumb Irishman, he’d give her one.

            “Aye, lassie. I’ll not be taking yer word for it and that’s fer sure.”

            “Then you’ll come with us?” 

            There must be something seriously wrong with me. But he’d play along, just to see how far Miss Burdick would take this dangerous game she played.

            “Aye,” he all but snarled. “I’ll go with you to the lawyer’s office, but I ain’t signing nothing until someone I trust has a look at those papers.”

            Miss Burdick’s luminous smile shone like the sun bursting through the clouds on a stormy day. Devin’s heart dropped to his stomach. Fiona would smile like that if he had the money to send her to that fancy boarding school.

Damn if he wasn’t actually considering her proposal.

Lady Gilchrest speaks with Lilly Gayle

14 Tuesday Jun 2011

Posted by in Blog Tour, historical romance, romance, romance novels, romance writer, Slightly Tarnished, The Wild Rose Press, TWRP, writer, writing

≈ 14 Comments

Today’s blogpost is going to be fun! Or maybe just a bit whacky. At any rate, I’ve joined a blog chain and each participant has agreed to let one of their characters inteview them. Yep, I’m going to be interviewed by an imaginary person. And she’s not even from this century! But here goes…

Nikki invited me to sit down. She was an American like me, and newly wed to a British Earl. The former Nicole Keller was now a countess, and rumor had it the marriage was one of convieneice. But she seemed happy.

I sat in a beautiful but uncomfortable rosewood and gold upholstered parlor chair. Nikki addjusted her wide skirts and sat across from me in a matching chair. She leaned forward, her curly brown hair falling over her shoulder as she met my gaze. “I heard you recently celebrated your annivesary. Which one?”

“Our thirty-first. We celebrated June 7.”

“May I offer my felicitations?” Her voice was unnaturally cultered, the slight inclination of her chin stilted, as if she wasn’t used to the regid posture or the formal speach.

I cracked a smile. “Thanks. And congratulations on your recent marriage.”

A smile brightened her face as well. “Thank you. Do you have any children?”

“I have two beautiful daughters. My youngest lives at home while attending her last year of college.” I didn’t say she was currently enrolled in UNC’s School of Radiation Therapy or that she worked part-time as a radiologic technologist. Wilhelm Conrad Roentgen wouldn’t even discover x-rays until November 1895.

“She’s attending college? Oh my! That’s so…adventurous.” Envy colored Nikki’s face. “I have no formal education beyond the school room. But I learned much, sailing on my father’s ship as a young girl. What of your oldest?”

 “She’s married and living in Germany. Her husband is in the army, and she works for the army.” Again, I kept my secrets. My daughter worked for the MWR, the army’s version of parks and recreation. Her husband was an airtraffic controller. But in Nikki’s time, airplanes didn’t exist.
A frown wrinkled Nikki’s brow. “But America isn’t at war with Germany.”

Hmm. I hadn’t thought about that. I thought she’d have questions about my daughter’s job. There were only so many acceptable jobs a women could have in her time. I shrugged.

“It must be difficult,” she added after a moment of awkward silence. “My mother and I travelled together to England. In fact, she lives with Chad…I mean, Lord Gilchrest and me. But your daughter lives so far away, and overseas mail take so dreadfully long.”

But email and texting were instant. And there was always Skype and the telephone. Both my daughter and I had Vonage so there was no long distance charges. Besides, my husband and I had just visited my dauther and her husband in April. It was our second visit since her marriage in December 2006. And this time, we took a side trip to Amsterdam. But I didn’t say anything. I simply lowered my head to hide a smile.

Nikki cleared her throat. “Germany isn’t so very far from England. Perhaps you could sail there before heading home?” she suggested.

I hid another smile. “Perhaps.”

“I understand you’re from North Carolina.”

I nodded. “I live in north central North Carolina.”

Her golden brown eyes brightened. “Have you ever been to Portsmouth Village? I grew up there on the island.”

I hesitated, not sure how to answer. Nikki left the island in 1857. I was there in 2006.  “Yes…”

Her face glowed with excitement. “It’s wonderful. Isn’t it? I love it here at Lands End, but I miss North Carolina and would love to show Lord Gilchrest where I grew up. It’s been over a year since I left. Has it changed much, do you think?”

What could I say? My husband and I visited Portsmouth Island when I was doing research so I could revise Slightly Tarnished, my historical romance about Nikki and her husband, Chad. But the Portsmouth Island I’d seen was nothing like the home she remembered.

Portsmouth Village was once the largest settlement on the Outer Banks and a major shipping center until the hurricane of 1846 cut a deeper inlet through Hatteras. After Ocracoke Inlet began to shoal, Portsmouth and nearby Shell Castle Island became lightering stations. During Nikki’s time, tall ships dropped anchor off shore and slave labor transferred the cargo to and from lighter, shallower draft boats for the journey out to sea or back to the wharf and further inland to other ports.

By 1860, the population of Portsmouth had grown to 685 residents. But after North Carolina succeeded from the union in 1861, many of those residents fled for the mainland to avoid the Union Army as it marched across the Outer Banks. Many never returned and eventually, the shipping industry shifted north and the village began to die.
                                                                              
Fishing replaced shipping for the islanders that remained and in 1894, the U.S. Life-Saving Service was established on the island. It played a vital role in the community for 50 years. But by 1956, only 17 residents remained on the island.

Eventually, the isolation became too much, and in 1971, the last two residents moved to the mainland.

The island is now a state park and visiting is like stepping back in time. Some of the houses remain and a church still stands as does the school and post office. But the mosqitos and flies will eat you alive. I wondered how people managed in Nikki’s time. But I couldn’t ask. She thought I was a woman from her own time who wrote sensation novels.
I cleared my throat. “It’s been a couple of years since I visited. I’m sure the place has changed.”

“Oh, I doubt it’s changed much,” she said with a laugh. “The people of Portsmouth Island live simple lives and don’t cotten to change.”

“I know you miss your home, but don’t you like it here–in Land’s End with your husband?” I know longer knew who was interviewing whom. I’d written Nikki’s story to have a happy ending, but things had happened. Terrible things. So, was she really happy? I needed to know.

She smiled as if hiding a great secret. “I hated London. But Gilchrest has it’s own private beach. And except for it being a castle, it reminds me of home. So yes. I’m happy. I love it here.”

I sighed with relief, knowing she was happy with her life and her husband because I’d written  her that way.

Slightly Tarnished, my first published historical is now available from the publisher: The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=4516

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Slightly-Tarnished-Lilly-Gayle/dp/1601549237/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1308007635&sr=8-1
and Barnes & Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/slightly-tarnished-lilly-gayle/1031415856?ean=2940012929167&itm=2&usri=lilly%2bgayle

If you enjoyed this interview, please check out the other particiapting authors in the chain to see which characters interview them.

 Here’s a list  of participants in order of their participation and estimated dates:

6/6: Aimee Laine : http://www.aimeelaine.com/blog
6/8: Lyla Dune : http://lyladune.com/blog.html
6/10: Carol Strickland : http://carolastrickland.blogspot.com/
6/12: Amy Corwin : http://amycorwin.blogspot.com/
6/14: Lilly Gayle : http://www.lillygayleromance.blogspot.com/
6/16: Rebekkah Niles : http://juturnafaerthing.blogspot.com/
6/18: Laura Browning : http://www.laurabrowningbooks.blogspot.com/
6/20: Andris Bear : http://andrisbear.wordpress.com/
6/22: Marcia Colette : http://marciacolette.wordpress.com/
6/24: Nancy Badger : http://www.nancylennea-inlove.blogspot.com
6/26: Sarah Mäkelä : http://blog.sarahmakela.com
6/28: Jennifer Harrington : http://www.romanceadventures.blogspot.com/
6/30: Scott Berger : http://romanticadventurestories.wordpress.com/

Destination: Holland

20 Friday May 2011

Posted by in Amsterdam, historical romance, Holland

≈ 8 Comments

Over Easter, my husband and I travelled to Germany to visit my daughter and her soldier husband. Previous blogs recap days one through three of our trip.
Day one we visited Nuremberg. Day two we went to Beyreuth. Day three was our misadventures in Pilsen Czech and our wonderful mountain hike. Then after the hike, we drove onto post and boarded a bus to Holland. It was a long, uncomfortable bus ride, but there were some interesting sites along the way.

Like this windmill at a rest area on the autobaun.

Our first stop in Holland was the tulip festival in Keukenhof.
We toured the festival with my daughter, her husband and some wonderful firiends of theirs. (Military people are incredibly friendly!)

The flowers were amazing.

And there was a beautiful mosaic of flowers.
From Keukenhof, the bus carried us to Amsterdam where we all piled onto a canal boat and toured the city by water.
Amsterdam is a city of canals, rivers, bridges, dikes, and levees…

It is the capital and largest city of the Netherlands. Settled as a small fishing village in the late 12th century, Amsterdam became one of the most important ports in the world during the 16h and 17th centuries.
The river Amstel terminates in the city center and connects to hundreds of canals.  Amsterdam is connected to the North Sea through the long North Sea Canal and is a popular cruise ship destination.


 Beauitful buildings and architecture dating back to the 12th century surround the city. And because land is at a premium in Amsterdam, homes are built upward, with gabled roofs and pullies used to hoist furniture in and out of the buildings.

There are no doublewides in Amsterdam. No trailers or trailer parks. But there are houseboats that look like doublewides. These houseboats line the city canals on either side, one on top of the other. But unlike doublewides and trailerparks, it costs hudreds of thousands of dollars a year to live in a houseboat in Amsterdam.

After the canal tour, we headed to our hotel for a much needed nap. The views from the hotel were amazing.

Of course, there were rules we had to follow at the hotel. But it wasn’t a problem. :-)  
After we rested, a group of us took a series of city trams across town where we ate at an Argentinan Steak House.                                            
 


 
 

   
 I loved Amsterdam. My favorite part of the trip was Amsterdam at night. It was a warm evening with a gentle breeze blowing over the canal. The streets were crowded and the city came alive.
There was music and food, and so very much to see. 

Amsterdam at night is truly amazing.
I didn’t want the night to end. Walking with my husband along those streets was romantic. And spending time with my daughter, her husband, and their friends made me feel young and carefree.
Life is good.
And Sunday morning, was Easter.
After a scrumptious buffett breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and boarded the bus again for a tour of a shoe factory and cheese farm. There was a cheese and wine tasting at the farm, and honestly, Holland has the best cheese I’ve ever eaten.
After the tours, we drove back to the city and spent the afternoon in Amsterdam. We had lunch in a New York style outdoor cafe.
And we spent the afternoon walking through the city.

There was even a street fair outside the Royal Palace.

We even walked through the famous redlight district. Of course, it was Easter morning so the red lights were turned off, but you can see the light under the massage parlor sign. And we saw a lot of other oddities on that side of town.

Amsterdam is a unique and wonderful city.
I loved it.


Are you Superstitious?

13 Friday May 2011

Posted by in Friday 13th, historical romance, Hope Diamond, Jennifer Coffeen, Lover's Gamble, mystery, romance, romantic suspense, The Wild Rose Press

≈ 5 Comments


I’m taking a break from my  vacation posts today to welcome fellow TWRP author Jennifer Coffeen.

Welcome, Jennifer!

Hi Lilly,
Did you wake up this morning with a case of Paraskavedekatriaphobia? If your doors are locked and Friday the 13th is circled on the calendar, you might be a candidate for this phobia.
 

Friday the 13th has long been a day of superstition, legends, and curses. No one is quite sure where the fear of this particular day began, but many attribute it to the evil surrounding number 13 combined with Friday, considered the unluckiest day as far back as the Middle Ages. Wherever the superstition comes from, nothing beats a good scare to add spice and intrigue to your writings.

My novel “Priceless Deception”, due out this summer on August 14th, is centered around the heroine’s search for the cursed French Blue diamond. The French Blue diamond has touched many famous people and events through history, though most people know it by its more modern name, the Hope Diamond.

The curse of the French Blue diamond began in 1642 by a Frenchman named Jean Baptiste Tavernier. The legend states that Tavernier plucked the enormous blue diamond from the forehead or eye of an idol during his travels in India. After returning to France and selling the diamond to King Louie XIV, Tavernier continued his travels to Russia where he was reportedly ripped to pieces by wild dogs as punishment for removing the stone. The diamond was later recut and passed down to Louie XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette. Both were executed by the guillotine during the French Revolution and many believe it was the diamond’s curse that caused such a violent end. After that the French Blue was stolen and remained lost until 1812, when it mysterious appeared for sale in London. There are rumors it was purchased by King George IV, and several paintings portray him wearing a very large blue stone in a pendant.

The French Blue eventually resurfaced in America in the hands of Henry Philip Hope where it got its name the Hope Diamond. The curse soon struck again, as the once wealthy Hope family went completely bankrupt after taking possession of the diamond.

In 1910 Pierre Cartier sold the diamond to Evalyn Walsh McLean who proclaimed it her good luck charm. According to some close to Evalyn, the wealthy woman was obsessed with the Hope diamond, refusing to take it off even for a goiter operation. Sadly, it not the good luck she wished for, and Evalyn’s family had their own share of tragedy. Her first born died in a car crash, her daughter committed suicide and her husband went insane and was confined to a mental institution. Many saw this as the long fingers of the diamond’s curse, but Evalyn stubbornly wore the diamond until she died. It was sold in 1941 to settle debts from her estate and purchased by Harry Winston. Winston wanted nothing to do with the diamond’s curse and later, some say for mysterious reasons, offered to donate the diamond to the Smithsonian Museum in Washington D.C.

Are you a believer yet? Though I wouldn’t diagnose myself with any phobias, you won’t catch me walking beneath any ladders today!

Jennifer Coffeen is a fellow TWRP author and if you can’t wait until until summer for the release of Priceless Deception, she has a hot release that’s available now. http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=4449

Here’s a blurb and excerpt  from Jennifer’s April release, Lover’s Gamble.

Sophie Hartlend likes to play with fire.
 
The reckless and beautiful Miss Sophie has spent her young life doing whatever she pleases without much consequence—except for that one night when passions went too far with the maddeningly handsome Lord Rayburn.

Months after their encounter, Sophie’s newfound infatuation with gambling has landed her in trouble, threatening her precious independence. Lord Rayburn gallantly offers to help, but he insists the wild Miss Sophie do things his way. Once again they find themselves in a battle of wills, attracted but with opposing views.
Will Sophie relent when she discovers she must lay down all her cards in order to win Lord Rayburn’s heart?

(Pages 58) Spicy
Word Count 15000

Excerpt:
Hugh shook his head, forcing his vision to clear. It couldn’t be. He simply had to be mistaken… But no, when he looked again there was no doubt. It was none other than Miss Sophie Hartlend, chattering away like she’d been gambling in Newbury House for years.

What the hell does she think she’s doing? It’s nearly two in the morning, and not a chaperone in sight! He had to admit she looked as stunning as he remembered her, like a long-worshipped Grecian goddess, her long hair curled artfully around her high cheekbones. He had a sudden vision of releasing that cascade of hair from its heavy pins, watching it flow down her naked back in waves.

With a sharp pang Hugh remembered the feel of it through his fingers as he kissed her that hot August night—nearly a year ago now, but a night he’d never forgotten. He’d fallen in love during that single night of passion and, stupidly, assumed she felt the same way. The next day he laid his pride at her feet, making an utter fool of himself over a woman.

Hugh’s hand tightened into a fist. After that day he’d never seen her again, until now. And suddenly here she was, in the most inappropriately low-cut gown he’d ever seen, gambling like a common bit of muslin.

And apparently quite bad at it, too.

You can find Jennfer at: http://www.jenniferanncoffeen.com/ and on facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jennifer-Ann-Coffeen/119223098153686

and check out her book trailer at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYpv1MQGJU4

Thanks for sharing a bit of mystery and history with us today. And stay away from ladders. lol!

When is Easter Again?

24 Sunday Apr 2011

Posted by in Christmas, Easter, historical romance, Lilly Gayle, Religion, writing

≈ Comments Off on When is Easter Again?

Easter coincides with the vernal equinox. According to the New Testament, Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection occurred about the same time as the Jewish Passover, which was celebrated  on the first full moon after the vernal equinox. Both those who believe in the Good Friday to Easter Sunday and the Wednesday to Saturday timeline for Christ’s death and resurrection do not argue this point. But, because of the differing phases of the moon, Christians celebrated Easter at different times and by the end of the second century, some churches celebrated on Passover and others celebrated the following Sunday.

The year I was born, Easter was on April 17th. The year I got married, it fell on April 6th, the day after my birthday. Easter was March 30th the year my oldest was born and March 26th the year my youngest was born. And this year, it lands on April 24th, which to me, seems like the latest Easter I can remember.

Going to http://www.timeanddate.com/ can show any calendar from any year to see when Easter fell in any given year. But  who sets the date for Easter and how do they decided? Why not celebrate on the day Christ was resurrected?

Well, for one thing, Christians, theologians, and scholars cannot agree on the day Christ was crucified or resurrected. Christians celebrate the Good Friday Crucifixion to Sunday morning resurrection timeline. But that’s not three days and three nights.  And according to Mathew 12:39-40, Christ was in the earth for three days and three nights.
Matthew 12:  39 But he answered them, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. 40For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.

So, then, how could Christ be crucified on Friday and resurrected on Sunday. The math doesn’t add up. Then again, according to the Gregorian calendar, Sunday is the first day of the week and the sabbath falls on Saturday. And the Gregorian calendar is a continuation of the Julian calendar that started with the year Jesus was born. But most western religions who celebrate the birth and resurrection of Christ worship on Sunday. So, maybe that’s why Christians cling to the Good Friday to Easter Sunday time line.
But according to some- http://www.herealittletherealittle.net/index.cfm?page_name=Jesus-Resurrection -Christ was crucified between 9:00 a.m and 3:00 p.m. He was then placed in the grave. Although this isn’t a full 24 hours, it counts as the first day and first night in the grave. Thursday and Friday are days two and three and Christ arose on Saturday, the day then recognized as the Sabbath.
So, why don’t Christians follow this time line? And why do we celebrate on different days and even months?

How is Easter even determined?

Easter is determined by the equinox. Every year around March 21 and September 23, there is twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness. Day and night are equal. These two days are known as the vernal or spring equinox and the autumnal equinox.


In 325 AD, the Council of Nicaea established Easter as the first Sunday after the first full moon and dependant upon the ececclesiastical approximation of March 21 for the vernal equinox. But if the full moon falls on Sunday, Easter is delayed one week, which decreases the chances of it falling on the same day as the Jewish Passover.

So, if Easter is celebrated at different times of the month, does it really matter whether Christ died on a Friday and was ressurrected on Sunday. Or if he died on Wednesday and was ressurected on Saturday? What matters is that Christ was tortured, ridiculed, and crucified for our sins. He was buried in a tomb where he lay dead for three days before his ressurection on the third day. And because he died, we migh live and have eternal life.Believing and having faith is what counts.

In the words of Sturar Chase~  “For those who believe, no proof is necessary. For those who don’t believe, no proof is possible.”

Finding Photos for That Blog or Website

08 Friday Apr 2011

Posted by in animal pictures, blogs, book trailers, books, historical romance, OUT OF THE DARKNESS, paranormal romance, photos, Slightly Tarnished, The Wild Rose Press, websites

≈ 2 Comments

There’s been much talk on the writer loops about using photos on blogs and trailers. I have two book trailers–although I’m having issues re-uploading my trailer for Out of the Darkness–you can see the trailer I created for Slightly Tarnished at http://www.lillygayle.com/.

The photographs for both trailers came from multiple locations.  For my Out of the Darkness photo (hopefully to be re-posted to my website soon!) my brother used my personal photographs and some he had and he drew in the characters so they’re kind of like avatars. Very cool. But I made the trailer for Slightly Tarnished. Luckily, I had my brother to give me advice.

For Slightly Tarnished, I used many of my own photographs or ones my daughter sent to me from Europe.Some of the London photographs I found in the public domain. And I also purchased photographs from http://us.fotolia.com/?gclid=CNLRwunyjKgCFcm8Kgod9X6sEA and Jimmy Thomas’ site http://www.romancenovelcovers.com/ . 

If you write romance and need a sexy cover or picture, Jimmy probably has the pic you need and he’s resonably priced.
I purchased the music for both sites at http://www.neosounds.com/. Great soundtracks with “movie-like” themes.

But for scenic photos or pictures of the every day, check out my 100 % free photos on the facebook page I created specifically for photo sharing. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Blogbook-trailer-photos/114267278651956

Feel free to use the pictures or share some of your own on my page. For photo sharing, you must own the rights to the photograph or have written permission to share them for the purpose stated. But the photos I’ve posted are there to use. Enjoy.