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At Barbara Vey's Reader Appreciation Luncheon 4/25/15 in Milwaukee

4/27/2015

Great weekend at the Reader Appreciation Luncheon sponsored by Barbara Vey in Milwaukee.
Hundreds of readers and authors , books galore, and fun for all. Barbara has been holding these wonderful events for four years, each one bigger and better than the last. Watch her site for info on 2016. And sign up immediately if you want to attend.

Featured speaker was Tess Gerritsen, author of many medical thrillers and inspiration for the TNT series Rizzoli and Isles. She gave a marvelous and funny talk about her experiences -- sometimes in morgues! In the left is Shari Anton and on the right is me. Tess is the doll in the center!

I sat at Lori Handeland;'s table and she gave us all hats, brooms to ride, and lots of other swag (potions!) in recognition of her new series, Sisters of the Craft, coming this summer. Look for In the Air Tonight in June 2015, Heat of the Moment in July, and Smoke on the Water in August. Three sisters lost toi time...Can they find what they desire most? On the left, author Anne Stratton, center Lori, right, Joy Molter -- and lots of others enjoyed the table too.

On Friday, lots of volunteers packed 500 bags with free books and swag from many authors. In the evening there was an author question night for the public, followed by a booksigning and lots of chatting.

The Wisconsin Romance Writers (WisRWA) held a simultaneous conference with excellent workshops. One the left is Liz Lincoln Steiner; center, Barbara Vey, right, Liz Czukas. The two Lizes chaired the WisRWA event and did a great job.

And I got to touch base with Ki Pha who attended --
a pal from the Duke of Wellington Tour last September. We shared pizza time! Next year, Ki???

Now a bunch of random shots -- most of the time I was having too much fun to remember the camera. But signing gave me a moment or two -- top down, l to r:
Eloisa James books, but one is a cookie! Terri Brisbin, Shari Anton, Mary Burton, and Kathryn Albright; Lori Handeland; Jason Mott; Eileen Dreyer; Maggie Mae Gallagher, Eileen, Vicky, and Shari

WisRWA pics from the conference: I love Thor!; Lots of the Gang; President Virginia McCullough; Barbara Britton achieved PAN status; more of the gang; Mary Buckham signing; Mary and me; Where did these guys come from???

Special thanks to our heroine, Barbara Vey, the best friend readers and authors can ever have!!

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SUSANA ELLIS: THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL

4/16/2015

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I am delighted to welcome Susana Ellis to my blog; she is one of my fellow authors in Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles: A Celebration of Waterloo. In fact, she was the instigator and one of the hardest working of our jolly band. So thanks to Susana for her leadership. She, like almost all of us, is fascinated with the famous ball held on the night before the conflict began. Please welcome Susana.

June 15, 1815

The escaped emperor had marched into Paris nearly three months ago. Rumors abounded that he was heading north, that he had crossed the border with Belgium, that his Grande Armée was enormous and would crush the ragtag allied army that Wellington was still assembling in Brussels. Frightened English citizens were fleeing to Antwerp to find a packet to England. Horses were scarce. Fear was running rampant through the city.

So why on earth would anyone decide to hold a ball that evening? Lady Richmond was the wife of Charles Lennox, 4th Duke of Richmond, who commanded a reserve force assigned to protect Brussels from a French invasion.

According to Lady Georgiana, a daughter of the Richmonds:
My mother’s now famous ball took place in a large room on the ground-floor on the left of the entrance, connected with the rest of the house by an ante-room. It had been used by the coach-builder, from whom the house was hired, to put carriages in, but it was papered before we came there; and I recollect the paper—a trellis pattern with roses. … At the ball supper I sat next to the Duke of Wellington, when he gave me an original miniature of himself painted by a Belgian artist.

Lady Louisa, another daughter of the Richmonds wrote this:
I well remember the Gordon Highlanders dancing reels at the ball. My mother thought it would interest foreigners to see them, which it did. I remember hearing that some of the poor men who danced in our house died at Waterloo. There was quite a crowd to look at the Scotch dancers.

Excerpts from Wellington: The Years of the Sword, Elizabeth Longford, 1969

The most famous ball in history was the climax of Wellington’s psychological warfare which always involved ‘pleasure as usual’. The question of holding it or not had first come up in May.
‘Duke,’ said the Duchess of Richmond one day, ‘I do not wish to pry into your secrets … I wish to give a ball, and all I ask is, may I give my ball? If you say, “Duchess, don’t give your ball”, it is quite sufficient, I ask no reason.’
‘Duchess, you may give your ball with the greatest safety, without fear of interruption.’ At that date, indeed, the Duke had intended to give a ball himself on 21 June, the second anniversary of the battle of Vitoria. Operations were not expected to begin before 1 July …
That very afternoon [the day of the ball] there had been a close run thing, though a small one, at Quatre Bras. Prince Bernhard of Saxe-Weimer with 4,000 infantry and eight guns had occupied on his own initiative the empty crossroads at Quatre Bras and had easily driven off 1,700 French skirmishers unsupported by artillery … Neither Ney nor Wellington knew anything of the crisis which had come and gone. Ney, only just recalled by Napoleon to his post from having been rusticated in the country, was still getting his bearings. All Wellington knew was that the Prince of Orange, who was now dancing at the ball, had reported all quiet on the Nivelles-Namur chaussée earlier in the day.
It has often been asked why Wellington did not cancel the ball at 3 p.m. instead of going to hear the fiddlers while Rome burned … Apart from Wellington’s extreme sensitivity to the chances of a stab in the back, his place was in Brussels. Having at last redirected his whole army towards Quatre Bras, nothing more remained for him to do that night. He was personally to lead out the reserve in the morning. Orders had still to be distributed among officers in Brussels and personal interviews held. Why not under the convenient camouflage and at the ready-made rendezvous of a ball? This was to be Wellington’s explanation to his friends during later post-mortems of Waterloo …
Morale-building, duty, convenience – they all played their part in getting Wellington at the ball. Why not admit that the Irish devil in him wanted to go? He would go; and see ‘those fellows’ damned …
The ball-room, situated on the ground floor of the Richmonds’ rented house in the rue de la Blanchissserie, had been transformed into a glittering palace with rose-trellised wallpaper, rich tent-like draperies and hangings in the royal colours of crimson, gold and black, and pillars wreathed in ribbons, leaves and flowers. Byron’s ‘lamps’ were the most magnificent chandeliers and the list of chivalry, if not beauty, was headed by H.R.H. the Prince of Orange, G.C.B. All the ambassadors, generals and aristocrats and dashing young officers were present …
Wellington arrived ‘rather late’ at the entrance, where streams of light poured through the open windows into the warm streets and over the thronged carriages. In the ball-room, those officers whose regiments were at any distance were already beginning to slip away quietly. The seventeen-year-old Lady Georgiana Lennox was dancing … She immediately broke off and went up to Wellington to ask whether the rumours were true …
‘Yes they are, we are off tomorrow.’ As this terrible news (Georgiana’s words) rapidly circulated, the ball-room was like a hive someone had kicked: an excited buzz arose from all the tables and elegantly draped embrasures.
… Lady Dalrymple-Hamilton, who sat for some time beside Wellington on a sofa, was struck by his preoccupied and anxious expression beneath the assumed gaiety. ‘Frequently, in the middle of a sentence he stopped abruptly and called to some officer, giving him directions, in particular to the Duke of Brunswick and Prince of Orange who both left the ball before supper’ [she later recalled to Sir Herbert Maxwell]. But even the lady on the sofa did not suspect the degree of drama with which the Prince of Orange’s departure was attended.
Shortly before supper … a dispatch was brought in … from Quatre Bras for the Prince of Orange. The message, dated about 10 p.m. that night, announced the repulse of Prussian forces from Fleurus on the road north-east of Charleroi, and less than eight miles as the crow flies from Quatre Bras. As soon as Wellington had read this enlightening but grim piece of news he recommended the prince to miss supper and return straight to his headquarters in the field.
… Wellington kept up an animated and smiling conversation for twenty minutes more, when a lesser man would have fled.
… At last, the necessary interval was up and Wellington turned casually towards the Duke of Richmond.
‘I think it is time for me to go to bed likewise …’ The party rose and moved into the hall.

A few notable attendees
·         Prince of Orange, unsuccessful suitor of the Prince Regent’s daughter, Princess Charlotte, nicknamed “Slender Billy”
·         Prince Frederick of Orange, younger brother of the Prince of Orange, who had command of a fall-back position near Braine during the battle
·         Duke of Brunswick, brother of Caroline, estranged wife of the Prince Regent. He left the ball eager to show off his fighting ability and was killed the next day.
·         General Alava of Spain, who holds the distinction of having fought at Trafalgar (against Wellington) and Waterloo (with Wellington, as the envoy of King William I of the Netherlands
·         The Earl and Countess Conyngham and their daughter Lady Elizabeth (Lady Conyngham was George IV’s last mistress)
·         The Duke of Wellington
·         Mr. and Lady Frances Webster (who reportedly had a fling with the duke in Brussels)
·         Sir Henry and Lady Susan Clinton. Sir Henry’s father was commander-in-chief of the British forces during the American Revolution. Sir Henry was Lieutenant-General and commanded the 2nd Division.
·         The Earl of Uxbridge, second in command to Wellington, who commanded the cavalry. The leg he lost became somewhat of a tourist attraction.
·         The Earl of March, Charles Lennox-Gordon, son of the hosts of the ball, who was aide-de-camp to the Prince of Orange.
·         Lieutenant-General Thomas Picton, who commanded the 5th Division, killed at Waterloo.

Below: The Duchess of Richmond's Ball by Hillingford

Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles: A Celebration of Waterloo

June 18, 1815 was the day Napoleon Bonaparte's Grande Armée was definitively routed by the ragtag band of soldiers from the Duke of Wellington's Allied Army in a little Belgian town called Waterloo. The cost in men's lives was high—22,000 dead or wounded for the Allied Army and 24,000 for the French. But the war with Napoleon that had dragged on for a dozen years was over for good, and the British people once more felt secure on their island shores.

The bicentenary of the famous battle seemed like an excellent opportunity to use that setting for a story, and before I knew it, I had eight other authors eager to join me, and to make a long story short, on April 1, 2015 our Waterloo-themed anthology was released to the world.

You are all invited to
· our Website and Facebook Page
· our Rafflecopter (ends April 18th) -- Giveaway
1 Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles mug (above)

Our Stories:

Jillian Chantal: Jeremiah’s Charge
Emmaline Rothesay has her eye on Jeremiah Denby as a potential suitor. When Captain Denby experiences a life-altering incident during the course of events surrounding the Battle of Waterloo, it throws a damper on Emmaline’s plans.

Téa Cooper: The Caper Merchant
The moon in Gemini is a fertile field of dreams, ideas and adventure and Pandora Wellingham is more than ready to spread her wings. When Monsieur Cagneaux, caper merchant to the rich and famous, introduces her to the handsome dragoon she believes her stars have aligned.

Susana Ellis: Lost and Found Lady
Catalina and Rupert fell in love in Spain in the aftermath of a battle, only to be separated by circumstances. Years later, they find each other again, just as another battle is brewing, but is it too late?

Aileen Fish: Captain Lumley’s Angel
Charged with the duty of keeping his friend’s widow safe, Captain Sam Lumley watches over Ellen Staverton as she recovers from her loss, growing fonder of her as each month passes. When Ellen takes a position as a companion, Sam must confront his feelings before she’s completely gone from his life.

Victoria Hinshaw: Folie Bleue
On the night of the 30th Anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo, Aimée, Lady Prescott, reminisces about meeting her husband in Bruxelles on the eve of the fighting. She had avoided the dashing scarlet-clad British officers, but she could not resist the tempting smile and spellbinding charm of Captain Robert Prescott of the 16th Light Dragoons who— dangerously to Aimée— wore blue.

Heather King: Copenhagen’s Last Charge
When Meg Lacy finds herself riding through the streets of Brussels only hours after the Battle of Waterloo, romance is the last thing on her mind, especially with surly Lieutenant James Cooper. However, their bickering uncovers a strange empathy – until, that is, the lieutenant makes a grave error of judgment that jeopardizes their budding friendship...

Christa Paige: One Last Kiss
The moment Colin held Beatrice in his arms he wanted one last kiss to take with him into battle and an uncertain future. Despite the threat of a soldier’s death, he must survive, for he promises to return to her because one kiss from Beatrice would never be enough.

Sophia Strathmore: A Soldier Lay Dying
Amelia and Anne Evans find themselves orphaned when their father, General Evans, dies. With no other options available, Amelia accepts the deathbed proposal of Oliver Brighton, Earl of Montford, a long time family friend. When Lord Montford recovers from his battle wounds, can the two find lasting love?

David W. Wilkin: Not a Close Run Thing at All
It had been a decade. Now, Robert had come back into her life, shortly before battle was to bring together more than three hundred thousand soldiers. They had but moments after all those years, and now, would they have any more after?

Excerpt from "Lost and Found Lady"
by Susana Ellis

September 14, 1793
A beach near Dieppe, France

“I don’t like the look of those clouds, monsieur,” Tobias McIntosh said in fluent French to the gray-bearded old man in a sailor hat waiting impatiently near the rowboat that was beginning to bob more sharply with each swell of the waves. “Are you sure your vessel can make it safely all the way to Newhaven in these choppy seas?”

The old man waved a hand over the horizon. “La tempête, it is not a threat, if we leave immédiatement. Plus tard…” He shrugged. “Je ne sais pas.”

“Please, mon amour,” pleaded the small woman wrapped in a hooded gray cloak standing at his side. “Allow me to stay with you. I don’t want to go to England. I promise I will be prudent.”

A strong gust of wind caught her hood and forced it down, revealing her mop of shiny dark locks. Tobias felt like seizing her hand and pulling her away from the ominous waves to a place of safety where she and their unborn child could stay until the senseless Terreur was over.

“Justine, ma chère, we have discussed this endlessly. There is no place in France safe enough for you if your identity as the daughter of the Comte d’Audet is discovered.” He shivered. “I could not bear it if you were to suffer the same fate at the hands of the revolutionaries as your parents did when I failed to save them.”

She threw her arms around him, the top of her head barely reaching his chin. “Non, mon amour, it was not your fault. You could not have saved them. It was miraculeux that you saved me. I should have died with them.”

She looked up to catch his gaze, her face ashen. “Instead, we met and have had three merveilleux months together. If it is my time to die, I wish to die at your side.”

Tobias felt like his heart was going to break. His very soul demanded that the two of them remain together and yet… there was a price on both their heads, and the family of the Vicomte Lefebre was waiting for him in Amiens, the revolutionaries expected to reach them before midday. It was a dangerous work he was involved in—rescuing imperiled French nobility from bloodthirsty, vengeful mobs—but he had pledged himself to the cause and honor demanded that he carry on. And besides, there was now someone else to consider.

“The child,” he said with more firmness than he felt. “We have our child to consider, now, Justine ma chère. The next Earl of Dumfries. He must live to grow up and make his way in the world.”

Not to mention the fact that Tobias was human enough to wish to leave a child to mark his legacy in the world—his and Justine’s. He felt a heaviness in his heart that he might not live long enough to know this child he and Justine had created together. He could not allow his personal wishes to undermine his conviction. Justine and the child must survive.

Justine’s blue eyes filled with tears. “But I cannot! I will die without you, mon cher mari. You cannot ask it of me!”

“Justine,” he said, pushing away from her to clasp her shoulders and look her directly in the eye. “You are a brave woman, the strongest I have ever known. You have survived many hardships and you can survive this. Take this letter to my brother in London, and he will see to your safety until the time comes that I can join you. My comrades in Newhaven will see that you are properly escorted.”

He handed over a letter and a bag of coins. “This should be enough to get you to London.”

After she had reluctantly accepted and pocketed the items beneath her cloak, he squeezed her hands.

“Be sure to eat well, ma chère. You are so thin and my son must be born healthy.”

She gave him a feigned smile. “Our daughter is the one responsible for my sickness in the mornings… I do not believe she wishes me to even look at food.”

She looked apprehensively at the increasingly angry waves as they tossed the small boat moored rather loosely to a rock on the shore and her hands impulsively went to her stomach.

“Make haste, monsieur,” the old sailor called as he peered anxiously at the darkening clouds. “We must depart now if we are to escape the storm. Bid your chère-amie adieu maintenant or wait for another day. I must return to the bateau.”
thanks “Tobias,” she said, her voice shaking.

He wondered if he would ever again hear her say his name with that adorable French inflection that had drawn him from their first meeting.

“Go, Justine. Go to my family and keep our child safe. I promise I will join you soon.”

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her toward the dinghy, trying to ignore her tears. The old sailor held the boat as still as he could while Tobias placed her on the seat and kissed her hard before striding back to the shore, each footstep heavier than the last.

He studied the darkening sky as the sailor climbed in the boat. “You are sure it is safe?”

“La Chasseresse, she is très robuste. A few waves will not topple her, monsieur.”

“Je t’aime, mon amour,” she said to him plaintively, her chin trembling.

“Au revoir, ma chère,” he said, trying to smile, although his vision was blurring from tears.

Will I ever see her again?

He stood watching as the dinghy made its way slowly through the choppy sea to the larger ship anchored in the distance, grief-stricken and unable to concentrate on anything but his pain. When the ship finally sailed off into the horizon, he fell to his knees and prayed as he had never done before for the safety of his beloved. He remained in that position until drops of rain on his face reminded him of the Lefebre family waiting for him in Amiens.

With a deep breath, he rose and made his way to the nearby forest, where his horse waited, tied to a tree.

“Come, my friend. We have a long, wet journey ahead of us.”

Setting foot in the stirrup, he swung his leg over the saddle and urged the horse to a gallop, feeling his heart rip into pieces with every step away from his beloved.

About the Author

Susana has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. Voracious reading led to a passion for writing, and her fascination with romance and people of the past landed her firmly in the field of historical romance.

A teacher in her former life, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and central Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

Thanks, Susana... Visiter here by clicking below:
Website • Facebook • Twitter
Susana’s Parlour • Susana’s Morning Room

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GUEST BLOGGER HEATHER KING: HORSES IN ART: COPENHAGEN

4/10/2015

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Heather King is an author and a lover of horses -- two passions we share. Both of us wrote novellas in the anthology Beaux, Ballrooms and Battles: A Celebration of Waterloo, now available wherever e-books are sold. In this post, she tells us about paintings of the Duke of Wellington's Waterloo mount, the famous stallion Copenhagen.

This portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence was painted in 1818. Lawrence (1769 – 1830) was a revered portrait artist of the eighteenth century and today is considered by many to be the last truly great one. He was a master at combining the new Romantic ideas with the classical tradition. The painting is in the private collection of Earl Bathurst at Cirencester Park, the Bathurst country estate. It is an oil painting on canvas and measures 156 x 96 inches (13 x 8 feet; 396 x 244cm).
In this portrait of the Duke of Wellington, you get a real sense of the battlefield, with the cannon smoke in the background and the fading sunlight as the general rides away from the scene of his most famous victory, his hat held aloft in salute. Indeed, you can almost smell the smoke and powder residue. Yet the focus is clearly on the Duke and his illustrious horse, Copenhagen.
Described by French artist Delacroix as ‘a flower of politeness’ and by that assertion it can therefore be supposed a gentleman, Lawrence has, with great subtlety, created an imposing image of both an English aristocrat and a commander. The Duke is wearing the same uniform and Copenhagen carries the arms and saddlecloth that they used on 18th June 1815. When the painting was exhibited at the Royal Academy, it was listed as The Duke of Wellington in the dress that he wore and on the horse that he rode, at the battle of Waterloo.
Copenhagen was, of course, the horse Wellington rode for the whole of that momentous day – a stretch of almost eighteen hours. He is frequently termed a charger, for that is a suitable appellation for a battle horse, although the reality is he was not often required to perform that role. A general’s mount has to remain steady and calm under fire and yet be fleet enough of foot to convey his master to all parts of the battlefield in moments. Copenhagen was the ideal general’s mount.
He is depicted by Sir Thomas Lawrence as a rich chestnut, his neck arched in a pose which subtly suggests arrogance and superiority. It has been suggested that he appears to be doing a lateral movement seen in the higher levels of competition dressage – a movement called ‘shoulder in’, where the horse travels at a slight angle, his body turned away from the direction he is moving. I can see where the idea has come from, since such suppling positions, aside from being natural movements seen in horses at play, originally were developed as both defensive and offensive measures when man first saw the potential of mounted combat. The ‘airs above the ground’, such as the courbette, the croupade, the pirouette, the pesade and the capriole demand high levels of athleticism and skill from the horse as well as the rider. Medieval knights spent hours schooling their prized war horses to be quick, responsive and nimble. The shoulder in, for example, which is one of the best suppling exercises, can be used to prevent an enemy foot soldier getting close enough to strike a blow at the rider, or even to barge him to the ground. In this painting, the Duke demonstrates by his balance, depth of seat and easy carriage in the saddle; that he was an accomplished horseman, well capable of such disciplines.
However, that is not my perception, as someone who loves horses and drawing but is no expert.
Copenhagen was the preferred height for a cavalry horse, standing just above fifteen hands (a hand equals four inches, measured to the base of the neck where it joins the body). The Duke was a tall man, which is evident from the length of his legs in the stirrups, and yet Copenhagen is not made to appear pony-like. The pose gives him a powerful presence, the raised forefoot indicating a touch of impatience and even demand. His eye is merely suggested with a speck of white paint, but it is enough, for it cleverly hints at the horse’s supreme confidence and bold character. This, it says, is a horse who knows his own worth; a horse with attitude. He has that indefinable quality which draws the eye. It could be simply the artistry of Lawrence, emphasizing those elegant limbs and clean lines of what is a compact frame, but I prefer to think it is the persona of the horse shining through.
History tells us that Copenhagen inherited his grandsire Eclipse’s difficult temperament and my story "Copenhagen’s Last Charge" is built around an incident that reflected this. It was that very attitude, that lack of respect for the human race – with the exception of Wellington himself – which helped to create that aura of supremacy Lawrence has captured so well. It is that strength of personality and inherent arrogance which made him not only universally popular, but has chiselled his name into the annals of history as one of the greatest war horses ever foaled.
Doubtless his grooms called him by some stable name, but I suspect it would not have been too complimentary! Did the Duke do so too? As a man whose public image was austere and stern, it is hard to imagine, but perhaps, out of the public eye, in the Ice House Paddock at Stratfield Saye, the Duke’s Hampshire estate, Copenhagen and his master enjoyed a few moments when they both laid aside their egos and admitted how much each owed the other.

When Susana Ellis put out the call for authors interested in collaborating in an Anthology set around the Battle of Waterloo, I jumped at the chance. It seemed a wonderful way to celebrate one of Britain’s most famous victories and a great excuse to write a story involving the fabulous Copenhagen. It has been both a learning experience and fun working with other, more established writers. After months of furious scribbling and editing, Beaux, Ballrooms and Battles was released to the world on 1st April, 2015.
Here is Susana's description of the anthology: “June 18, 1815 was the day Napoleon Bonaparte's Grande Armée was definitively routed by the ragtag band of soldiers from the Duke of Wellington's Allied Army in a little Belgian town called Waterloo. The cost in men's lives was high—22,000 dead or wounded for the Allied Army and 24,000 for the French. But the war with Napoleon that had dragged on for a dozen years was over for good, and the British people once more felt secure on their island shores.”

Here is a synopsis of "Copenhagen’s Last Charge:"
When Meg Lacy encounters a broodingly handsome Light Dragoon at the Duchess of Richmond’s grand ball, she little expects that in the hours following the Battle of Waterloo she will be accompanying him around the streets of Brussels. Romance is the last thing on her mind as they seek a lost and valuable item belonging to the Duke of Wellington himself.
Lieutenant James Cooper is surly and unhelpful, but Meg senses the Dragoon will need her help if they are to succeed. As they bicker their way around the narrow streets, a strange empathy begins to develop as gradually glimpses of the man beneath start to be revealed. Meg finds herself drawn to that person, but when they finally recover and then return the item to the Duke, Cooper makes a grave error of judgement which jeopardizes their budding friendship…

Here is an excerpt from the story:

Standing beside her father as he discussed cavalry tactics with General Lord Edward Somerset, Meg had the opportunity to observe the milling crowd ‒ the flushed cheeks of the young ladies as they danced by with equally youthful, dashing officers; the happy smiles and carefree pursuit of pleasure, all as though the French were not gathering to Bonaparte’s banner with the intention of destroying them all. Although the beau monde of Brussels was partying as if the escaped Emperor were but a fly to be swatted, Meg took a more realistic view. During the crossing to the Continent, she had become acquainted with a young man, Godfrey Winterton, who was seeking his elder brother. Their father was ill, not expected to live beyond a few weeks and the boy – for he could barely own more than seventeen years – was desperate to find his sibling, the heir to the family estates, before the unthinkable occurred. Unthinkable it might be, but to Meg it was not something to be ignored, swept beneath a rug until someone fell over the ensuing lump.
She was glad when the music stopped and Georgy came to claim her attention from her maudlin thoughts. In her tempestuous wake, Georgy dragged her brother, the Earl of March. He was a handsome young man of four-and-twenty, a few years senior to both Meg and his sister. He was already Aide-de-Camp to the Prince of Orange and bidding fair to enjoy an illustrious military career.
He bowed deeply as Georgy presented them and begged the honour of the next dance. A quadrille was forming and feeling her cheeks heat at the honour he did her, when there were several beauties of higher rank present whom could be said to have greater claim, Meg curtsied.
“I should be pleased, my lord.” The words had barely formed on her lips when Georgy nudged her arm.
“Who do you suppose that could be?”
Meg followed the line of her friend’s gaze to observe a tall, leanly built officer in the blue coat and white facings of a cavalry regiment, who was leaning casually against a pillar near the French windows, which had been opened to admit the warm night air. In his hand he held his red silk embellished dress helmet, as though he had little intention of remaining.
“I cannot conjecture,” she replied with a smile. “Recollect I have but recently arrived and know hardly anyone.”
“Oh, tush!” Georgy tapped the precious fan on Meg’s arm. “He is very fine, do you not agree?” She chuckled. “And with a mien almost as brooding as Lord Byron!” Turning abruptly to her brother, she said, “March, do be a dear and go discover who he is!”

About the Author
Heather King has made up stories since she was a small child. History lessons at school were rarely dull and the discovery of Georgette Heyer’s Regency novels in her early teens set her on a lifelong love of that era. A confessed romantic and bookworm, writing gives her a chance to indulge all these passions – and call it work!
She has her own voice, but likes to follow traditional Regency precepts and pen uplifting stories with witty dialogue, engaging characters and bags of emotion. Her debut novel was 'A Sense of the Ridiculous'.
Visiting her Dark Side as Vandalia Black, she writes Vampire and Paranormal romance. She is the author of 'Vampires Don’t Drink Coffee and Other Stories' which includes a novella set in the English Civil War.
When not looking after her two hairy ponies, three cats and boisterous Staffie X, or frowning over keypad or notebook, she likes nothing better than to curl up with a good book.

Join Heather on Social Media:
Blog: http://regency-writer-hking.blogspot.co.uk
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/heather.king.author
https://www.facebook.com/ARegencyRepository
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomheatherkinguk
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B00I04PYPE

Heather's Other Books

A Sense of the Ridiculous – not currently available, but will be before long.
Waking up at a strange inn with no memory, headstrong Jocasta Stanyon finds the landlady’s son, Richard Cowley, is more than a match for her lively personality, but their stations in life are far apart and despite prolonging her stay by devious means, the idyll cannot last. She hopes to persuade her father of Richard’s qualities, but then she is summoned to receive the addresses of a fashionable stranger...

An Improper Marriage
Marriage to dull ironmaster Jeremiah Knight would be awful enough, but when Eleanor Honeybourne discovers an injured man at a ball, she uncovers a web of intrigue that puts her own and her stepfather’s lives at risk. Meeting again her childhood hero, Charles Ribblesford, she is forced into a situation which could well spell her ruin, unless they can solve the mystery and unmask the villain.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Improper-Marriage-Heather-King-ebook/dp/B00TP1ZE4C/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

http://www.amazon.com/Improper-Marriage-Heather-King-ebook/dp/B00TP1ZE4C/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

The Middle Of The Day

Lottie Morgan loves all things Regency, but would she like to live in the early nineteenth century, married to a baron? A strange thing happens while she is visiting Berrington Hall; she finds herself confronting George, Lord Rodney and she is a newly-wed!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UUQ7GE2

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Middle-Day-Heather-King-ebook/dp/B00UUQ7GE2/ref=la_B00I04PYPE_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1427237184&sr=1-3

Writing as Vandalia Black:

Vampires Don’t Drink Coffee And Other Stories
This collection of fourteen tales brings together irresistible heroes and memorable heroines who battle against demons, muggers, lost loves, loneliness and unholy thirst to find their true loves. Tortured and honourable vampire heroes and one lady for whom the search for her mortal love has lasted centuries, will sweep you away into a paranormal world where eternal love means exactly that.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vampires-Drink-Coffee-Other-Stories/dp/1500219096/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1406294881&sr=1-13&keywords=vampires+romance+short+stories+anthology

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vampires-Drink-Coffee-Other-Stories-ebook/dp/B00N05GXZI/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=1-13&qid=1406294881

http://www.amazon.com/Vampires-Drink-Coffee-Other-Stories/dp/1500219096/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1406297421&sr=1-1-catcorr&keywords=vandalia+black+vampires+short+stories+anthology

http://www.amazon.com/Vampires-Drink-Coffee-Other-Stories-ebook/dp/B00N05GXZI/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=1-1-catcorr&qid=1406297421

MORE DETAILS ABOUT THE ANTHOLOGY;

Website
http://beauxballroomsandbattles.com/
Facebook Page:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/BeauxBallroomsandBattles/
Rafflecopter (ends April 18th)

Links
Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/Beaux-Ballrooms-Battles-Celebration-Waterloo-ebook/dp/B00V4TAP38
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/beaux-ballrooms-and-battles
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/beaux-ballrooms-and-battles/id980212875?ls=1&mt=11
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beaux-ballrooms-and-battles-aileen-fish/1121661295?ean=2940151319669
Amazon.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Beaux-Ballrooms-Battles-Celebration-Waterloo-ebook/dp/B00V4TAP38
Amazon.ca: http://www.amazon.ca/Beaux-Ballrooms-Battles-Celebration-Waterloo-ebook/dp/B00V4TAP38

Amazon.au: http://www.amazon.com.au/Beaux-Ballrooms-Battles-Celebration-Waterloo-ebook/dp/B00V4TAP38

Victoria, here. Many thanks, Heather for your insights on Copenhagen. Below, to end this post, is a picture of the stallion's grave at Stratfield Saye, Country Seat of the Dukes of Wellington, with the roses we brought for him:

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At Barbara Vey's Reader Appreciation Luncheon 4/25/15 in Milwaukee

SUSANA ELLIS: THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S BALL

GUEST BLOGGER HEATHER KING: HORSES IN ART: COPENHAGEN

Victoria Hinshaw, Author

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