Word Wenches

The Party's Over!

The party is over. The glittering lights of the Decembers holidays have gone out with a bang on New Year's . . .The tree's ornaments have been carefully stowed away for next December, the confetti has been swept up, the empty champagne bottles have been carted to the recycling bin . . .

Andrea here, and I have to confess, it's quite depressing! Oh, yes. There are many good things about the new year, and starting, er, fresh. However the state of my fridge and pantry are not among them. Gone are the myriad cookies, the chocolate, the truffles, the brownies and blondies. Instead they are filled with all the things I SHOULD be eating. Sigh. I'm in a state of withdrawal.

I will cheerfully admit to having a sweet tooth. And the holidays are time that I rationalize that it's okay to splurge on all those buttery, sugar and spice confections. I mean, one can't be Scrooge-like and refuse to get in the spirit of season's excess, right? And we all know calories don't count from Thanksgiving to New Year's! (Quantum, surely you can up up with a quantum physics theorem that supports my scientific thinking on this . . .the tilt of the earth, the angle of the sun . . . how quickly you can scarf down the cookie . . .)

Over the holidays, I got in a bad habit of helping myself to goodies every day. And now it's time to stop. As I sit here feeling sorry for myslef I find myself fantasizing about what I miss most . . .it's a toss -up between the homemade Swiss biber (a gingerbread confection filled with marzipan) and my special blondie recipe studded with walnuts and golden raisins, topped with a lemon glaze.

What holiday goodie do you miss most after the clock strikes midnight on January 1? Or are you smarter than me and just say, "Party On!

 

 

Family Ties

Andrea here, continuing our daily celebration of the Twelve Days of Christmastide with short posts on the spirit of the season. The holidays have been a bit quiet for me as this year, instead of our usual Christmas Day gathering, my family has been scattered around the globe. In celebration of my niece getting her PhD in English two weeks ago, my older brother and his wife took her to Rome (it had to be that timing because both my niece and SIL are teaching at different universities with different breaks) My younger brother and his family just moved houses in Wyoming and were frantically getting their old place ready for sale . . . And my nephew (the PhD's brother) jetted off to Brazil to be with his fiancee. (Niece and nephew pictured here)

So, I was feeling a little nostalgic with everyone so far away. And then very early on Christmas Eve morning I was awakened by the "beep-beep" of a text coming into my cellphone. Hmmm. I was tempted to ignore it—I'm not big on texting or being a slave to my phone. However, I decided to take a quick look and it's my nephew from Brazil, apologizing for the wake-up call but in need of immediate cookie help! He was surprising his fiancee with a batch of traditional Swiss "hasselnuss stengeli" Christmas cookies and couldn't remember how to make the lemon-sugar glaze.

So off we go on a flurry of texts . . . He has very fond memories of making the cookies with his grandmother (my mother). As do I. (He loves to cook and is very good at it.) The missing piece of the recipe was easy-peasy to send off but for the next little while we were also exchanging funny memories of past holidays . . . like the time my mother's usually well-behaved German Shepherd, who NEVER stole food, walked through the dining room in mid-feast with a huge wedge of Jarlsberg that he had snatched from the low cocktail table in the living room . . . and the time my mother was insisting on taking SO many group pictures of the family that he instigated getting everyone to take their shirts off when she was fiddling with the camera. (She framed that picture.)

Anyway, when it ended, I was laughing aloud and feeling, well, very connected, even though we were very far away. To me it was a perfect vignette of what the spirit of the season is all about. Family, friends, laughter, sharing . . . and though I don't think of devices are a very good way to do that, I was grateful for modern technology letting me connect to a loved one and share a few laughs.

What about you? Were you able to celebrate together with loved ones? Or did you do some long distance connecting too?

And finally Jo Beverley's story

 Anne here with our final Sunday snippet for the year from our Christmas anthology, The Last Chance Christmas Ball. Here's the start of Jo Beverley's story, Miss Finch and the Angel.

Four steaming horses swept the post chaise up the drive of Holbourne Abbey and were halted by their postilions, snorting and stamping, before the impressive pillared entrance. Liveried footmen hurried out, their own breath white in the crisp air, to open the carriage door and extract luggage from the boot.
First emerged a valet. Then followed a fashionable young gentleman in a many-caped buff greatcoat and a glossy beaver hat set at an exact angle on golden hair. He regarded the house, smiled slightly, and strode forward to climb the steps.

"A pleasure to see you, Munton," he said to the portly butler who stood waiting in the entrance hall to take his hat and gloves and pass them to a liveried footman. 

"And you, my lord. May I offer season's greetings?"

"I'm sure you may," the young gentleman said pleasantly. "All in order?"

"In general, my lord. Mr. Kimball still chooses a contemplative life."

"Even at Christmas?"

"Indeed, my lord, but the ball will take place as usual."

"Of course it will, especially as it's the fiftieth. Where is Lady Holly?"

"In her rooms, my lord."

The Magic of Harry Potter and History

Andrea here, The holidays are a magical time of year, especially for children. So it seems a perfect time to talk about something truly magical—in every meaning of the word! I just saw the wonderful exhibit at the New York Historical Society entitled Harry Potter: A History of Magic. (It’s the U.S. stop for the show that originated at the British Library, and the linked article from the NY Times shows some wonderful pictures of the display rooms.)

Now of course, Harry isn’t just for kids—I’m a huge fan, even though I’m not usually one for fantasy or paranormal. The magic of J. K. Rowling and her books is the storytelling and how she weaves together the powerful elemental themes of friendship, love, courage in the face of loss and adversity as she tells a riveting tale of Good vs Evil.

A Season for Marriage

Nicola here, continuing our Sunday excerpts from The Last Chance Christmas Ball, (the e-book is on special sale right now for only $.99!) Here's the setting: Christmas 1815. Upstairs and downstairs, Holbourne Abbey is abuzz with preparations for a grand ball to celebrate the year’s most festive—and romantic—holiday. For at the top of each guest’s wish list is a last chance to find true love before the New Year… My story is A Season for Marriage... Lady Caroline  Camden is unhappily married to a brilliant MP whose work is his life. In love with her husband and resigned to the fact that he will never love her, Caroline runs back home to Holbourne Abbey, hoping that her old family home will work its magic on her marriage and that against the odds, she and Piers may find happiness...

Sweet Inspiration: On Heroines, Plots . . . and Chocolate!

Andrea here, I’m just putting the finishing touches a new Lady Arianna mystery, which got me to musing on how a series takes shape in an author’s head . . .

But first allow me set the scene: For those of you who follow the series, you may recall that the last Lady A book, SMOKE AND LIES, took place on Elba amidst international intrigue and deceptions as Napoleon plotted his escape from the tiny island off Italy in order to re-seize the French throne. In A QUESTION OF NUMBERS, Lady Arianna and Lord Saybrook’s latest adventure, (which will be released in early Spring) the action moves to Brussels, a city aswirl in rumors and treachery as all of Europe waits to see if Napoleon will once again march his army into battle against the rest of Europe. (Brussels, you might ask? But honestly, what Regency historical author could possibly resist the chance to feature the Duchess of Richmond’s ball—one of the most famous parties in history—in a scene!)

Now, if you had asked me when I first started to envision the first flutters of Lady Arianna if I ever imagined her matching wits with Napoleon, the answer would have been a resounding . . . Well, er, no. (You see, it’s a trick question—but I’ll get to that in a moment.)

So, that’s where Lady A and her friends are now . . . but how did they actually come to life? The process was a little different than the usual way ideas happen for me, so I thought it might be interesting to share, as readers often ask, “How do think up your ideas?” The answer is, sometimes creativity takes some twists and turns.

Christmas snippets

Anne here, starting something a little bit different. We're putting up Sunday posts containing an excerpt from our stories in the Last Chance Christmas Ball — one each Sunday in the lead-up to Christmas.

The anthology was such a fun—and sometimes tricky— thing to do. We wenches had written a Christmas anthology before with a linking theme, but for this one we decided all the stories would be linked to an event, based around an annual Christmas ball, held by Lady Holbourne known as Lady Holly to her friends.

The emails flew back and forth as we tossed around ideas, made plans and thrashed out the details of the setting. Some of us wrote interweaving stories, some of us made our stories linked, but separate, several of us had our people not actually make it to the ball. But we all had such fun doing it, we wanted to share it again.

Here's the blurb for the collection:  Christmas 1815. Upstairs and downstairs, Holbourne Abbey is abuzz with preparations for a grand ball to celebrate the year’s most festive—and romantic—holiday. For at the top of each guest’s wish list is a last chance to find true love before the New Year…

My story is called Mistletoe Kisses, and it's about Allie Fenton, a young woman who, for various reasons, has never been able to attend a ball. Now orphaned and on the shelf, she's planning to become a teacher at a girl's seminary in Bath. But first there's her last Christmas at home and then, Lady Holly's famous annual Christmas ball. 

Here's a short excerpt:

"You'll come to my Christmas ball, then," Lady Holly told her. "Don't bother trying to think up any excuses — you're coming and that's that. Your year of mourning will be up, and you have no reason to stay here moldering away when I've gathered an excellent range of eligible gentlemen for your perusal."

Allie laughed. "For my perusal? As if I'm going shopping?"

"That's exactly what you'll be doing."

"Don't the gentlemen have any say in it?"

The old lady sniffed. "Women have been making men believe they have a choice for generations. Now don't be frivolous, Allie — I am determined to give you one last chance to find a husband before you go off and bury yourself in this, this school of yours." She pronounced 'school' as if she really meant 'zoo.'

Allie smiled. For all her caustic tone, Lady Holly had a very kind heart. "I would love to attend your ball, Lady Holly. . . "

The old lady frowned. "I hear a 'but' coming."

What We're Reading—October

Anne here, hosting this month's What We're Reading post. As always there's a lovely range of books for all tastes. And just a reminder -- these are not promo posts; they're genuinely what we've read and enjoyed in the last month. 

We'll start with Pat, who says: I'm on a hunt for light-hearted, humorous, feel-good books these days, so I'm over the moon when I find one.

180 SECONDS by Jessica Park qualifies, even though I suspect it's probably called a New Adult romance since the protagonists are in college. But this isn’t about the normal trials and tribulations of overworked, under-loved students. The protagonist Allison has been in foster care all her life, until she was adopted by a gay dad when she was sixteen. She’s closed off, shut down, prepared to peel out of the life of anyone who gets close. She does her best to avoid people entirely. She wants to love her adopted dad, who is a real gem, but she can’t even open his care packages. And then in one freakish moment when she’s forced herself to go into town, she’s caught up in an internet video where she has to stare at a boy for 180 seconds. That scene alone is worth reading the book. Esben, the hero of this story, is almost too good to be true, but he has his major hidden flaws as well. The romance is a rollicking ride of self-discovery and interconnectedness of the internet and how it drives the lives of these kids. So, it’s almost fantasy, but it’s fun fantasy. For a feel good read, try this one. 

Mary Jo read and recommends  David Rosenfelt's Andy Carpenter Series & Dogtripping

Lessons in Longitude

Andrea here, thinking about . . . Time. This month, most of us in the U.S. turn the clock back an hour for Daylight Savings Time (I don’t know about you, but I very much dislike the darkness that settles in around 5 pm in winter.) Now, where does that hour go? Yes, I know that we get it back in Spring, but it seems a cavalier attitude to play games with the ticking of the Universe.

My mulling on this has been amplified because I’ve been thinking of working in marine chronometers in a future Wrexford & Sloane mystery book. I happen to love antique mechanical wristwatches, as I think they’re both beautiful and functional. The intricate inner workings are exquisite works of art—for me it’s very cool when functional objects can also be intrinsically beautiful.

But back to marine chronometers! From the first stirrings of humanity, time is an elemental concept that regulates so many facets of our existence—our age, the cycle of the seasons, how calculate speed and distance . . . The first really precise timepiece was the pendulum clock, invented in 1656 by Christiaan Huygens (shown above), a Dutch scientist who was inspired by Galileo’s experiments with pendulums.

Wenches and the Wild

 Joanna here, bringing you tales of Wenchly encounters with wild things.  We Wenches had been chatting by email about chickens and copperheads, as one does.

Mary Jo, first up, brings us her stories from further to the the Wild Side:

I love animals and grew up on a farm, but I have no tales of devil red hens, mega-roosters, or sinuous copperheads.  There have been plenty of cats and dogs in my life, and my woodsy suburban neighborhood has lots of squirrels and chipmunks and deer and foxes and bunnies.  (I hope those last two don't meet up often!) 

But for real drama, I'll have to turn to Botswana.  Two years ago, we did a safari there after I spoke at a conference in Johannesburg, and it was great.  We traveled several vast nature preserves in open sided safari trucks.  The wildlife there is not tame, but many of the animals have become accustomed to the trucks and pretty much ignore their human visitors as long as we behave.  So a leopard ambled by a few feet away and lionesses lounged in the dirt roads, supremely confident.  

But my most dramatic encounter was our last night in one of the three safari camps we stayed in.  This particular camp housed guests in glamorous tents.  (Hence, "glamping.")  The camps were completely dark when we returned to our quarters after dinner, and we were told to always have a guide escort us back.  On that last night, I was walking ahead of the Mayhem Consultant and our guide, only a single flashlight to guide our path through the African night. 

As I neared our tent, I heard something rustling in the underbrush.  It didn’t sound large  but it could have been a hyena or some other critter I didn't want to startle.  I returned to our guide and said there's something up there, it didn't sound like a big beast like an elephant, but he might want to check it out.  He did and came back and said calmly, "It's an elephant."

Sure enough, standing smack dab in front of the entrance to our tent, maybe four feet from the canvas, an elephant was chomping on some greenery.  I thought we'd retreat to the headquarters until the elephant moved on, but our guide just said that we could get in through the end entrance of the tent. Oooh-kay, if he thought it was safe… 

I unzipped the end door entry and we went inside.  (I peeked out the front entrance and saw the vast curved back of the elephant silhouetted against the stars, and felt the presence of that great bulk just a few feet away.)

For the next half hour or so we could hear the elephant brushing around the canvas sides as it continued to foraged.  I wasn't frightened but I was wary.  The Mayhem Consultant wanted his shower so he took it.  ("brush, brush, brush, a crunch of a branch, brush, brush, brush…)  I didn't want to be caught starkers if the elephant absented-mindedly took down part of our tent, but that didn't happen.  Eventually the elephant wandered off and all was calm.

But I didn't forget that encounter with a Wild Thing!

Strokes of Genius

Andrea here, musing today about art and history, two subjects near and dear to my heart. One of the fundamental reasons I love the Regency era is because it was a time of challenging of the old order and served as a catalyst for new ways of thinking about all aspects of society—the birth of the Modern! Art was no exception. The blossoming of Romanticism—individuals suddenly free to express an emotional reaction to the world around them—ignited a whole new realm of creativity.

Color, brushstrokes, draftsmanship—the traditional ways of depicting subjects gave way to experimentation and imagination. Turner began dabbling in a bold new way that inspired Impressionism. And the French artist Delacroix . . . hmmm, well, Delacroix has been a conundrum to art critics over the years. But a grand new retrospective of his work currently on view at the Met in New York City, is generating raves and new appreciation of what a revolutionary artist he was. (You can listen to the Met curator of the exhibit give a short talk on Delacroix’s genius here.)

Through the Looking Glass . . .

Andrea/Cara here, Like my fellow Wenches, I find doing research is an integral part of the creative process for my books. Digging deeper into elements I want to weave into a story and learning little details often spark ideas that embellish the plots. One of the very fun aspects of my summer sojourn to England was the chance to explore up close and personal some of the scientific inventions that I feature in my Wrexford and Sloane Regency-set mystery series.

My current WIP features a voltaic pile (named after Alexander Volta, it was the first electrical battery and could generate a current.) But you’ll hear more about that in the future. I also have Wrexford and his assistant solve a key part of the mystery using a microscope. And as I was fortunate enough to be able to visit the Museum of the History of Science in Oxford during my trip, I was, as they say, in hog—or rather, lens—heaven!

A tasty slice of culinary history

Andrea/Cara here, feeling in a pizza state of mind today. (There is a reason for this, but honestly, does one really have to a have a specific reason? I mean, who doesn’t like pizza?) I’ve been spending time in New Haven, Connecticut recently, as I mentor freshmen students as they arrive for their first semester at college. I find it really rewarding to help students navigate such a huge change in life as they begin to decide on courses, extracurricular activities, and just how to adjust to roommates and living away from home. And I love the intellectual energy and excitement of a university town, with all its museums, libraries and cultural offerings. But in the spirit of full disclosure, I also love spending time in New Haven because it has the best pizza anywhere. Bar none.

Peak Performance—the oldest golf club in Switzerland!

Andrea/Cara here, As many of you may have noticed, some of us Wenches have gallivanted hither and yon this summer and have been taking you on a virtual tour of our travels to historic places. (Trust me, your armchairs are SO much more comfortable than airline seats, and you don’t have to stand in security lines!) I’m going to continue the peregrinations today, but with a slightly different twist. I’m the resident Wench “jock,” so today instead of visiting castles or museums or Viking ruins, we’ll be taking a peek at some sporting history!

I just returned from playing golf at the oldest course in Switzerland (and the seventh oldest course in continental Europe.) The Engadine Golf Club, located a short drive from the legendary mountain resort village of St. Moritz, is not only set in a breathtaking beautiful setting, but it also has a fascinating history . . . so let’s tee it up and hit the fairways!

A Royal Romp Through Kensington Palace

Andrea/Cara here, And as you might have guessed from my last post, I’ve recently been in a palace state of mind. (A reseach trip to England will have that effect on you!) Today we’re journeying from the outskirts of Oxford into the heart of London to take a look a Kensington Palace, which figures prominently in the opening scene of my next Wrexford and Sloane mystery. In fact, the title is MURDER AT KENSINGTON PALACE! (tentative release date—September 24, 2019) So of course I had to do a thorough walk-through of the rooms and gardens!

Vale Janga

Anne here, writing on behalf of all the word wenches in a special Sunday post, a tribute to Janga Rholetter — one of our long time wenchly readers and a friend to many of us here, readers as well as writers. Janga passed away suddenly last week — we knew she was desperately ill, but the speed of her passing took us all by surprise. 

Janga loved words; she loved stories and poetry and romance and writing. She was an intelligent and insightful reviewer — I suspect many of us here became addicted to her reviews and have added to our TBR piles because of Janga. She was very active in the romance community; she was a wenchly reader from the very first — enter Janga into the search bar and you'll see so many comments over the years. She was also very active on the Eloisa James boards, she blogged and reviewed on The Romance Dish and also on her own blog.

I felt very privileged to know her. She wrote to me about my very first book, and that began a correspondence between us that lasted almost 20 years. We talked about books, about poetry, about writing, about teaching, and about life. She was a wonderful critic, perceptive and articulate and encouraging. She saw things in my work that I wasn't aware of. She made me feel a better writer than I am.

I am sad, though, that her own fiction never saw the light of day. She was, I suspect, her own toughest critic. She was a private person—there are no photos of her on her sites—and very modest. But though her fiction might not be out there, Janga left behind a rich legacy of her writing, in reviews, interviews, essays and blogs. 

Her good friend PJ Ausdenmore wrote a wonderful tribute to Janga on The Romance Dish. You will also get a lovely sense of the person Janga was by reading this blog that she wrote back in 2012, her gratitude list for Thanksgiving. 

I might be the one writing this post, but Janga was beloved of all the wenches. Goodbye, dear Janga, thank you for sharing your thoughts, your books and your wisdom, from Mary Jo Putney, Pat Rice, Susan King, Andrea Pickens, Nicola Cornick, Joanna Bourne, Susanna Kearsley and Anne Gracie. Rest in peace.

The Splendors of Blenheim Palace

Andrea here, As you probably know, a number of the Wenches traveled through England, Scotland and Ireland in the last fortnight (and got to spend time together, both exploring and speaking at the RNA Conference, which was so much fun!) So here is the first of many “show and tell” blogs from our experiences. But as most of you love history as much as we do, I hope you’ll enjoy these vignettes of places that captured our fancy.

 

The Many Delights of What We're Reading --June

Joanna here with our monthly round up. What have the Word Wenches been reading in June? What wonderful books have we discovered?

We have particularly exciting books this month.

First up, Anne.
[Warning: cookbook ahead]

Anne here. As usual, I've read a lot of books in the last month. I've always been a prolific reader and it doesn't matter how busy my life gets, reading is a necessary part of my life. 

 

I caught up on my Louise Penny reading, with GLASS HOUSES, a book I bought a year ago and discovered I hadn't read. Absorbing and entertaining, as always, this is #13  in her Chief Inspector Gamache crime series. 

 

Sharon Shinn -- Mary Jo put me onto Sharon Shinn's fantasies first, and after her recent post I discovered that some more of Shinn's books were now available to me on kindle. I read and enjoyed the first two in the series -- TROUBLED WATERS and ROYAL AIRS then discovered that book 3 and 4 are not available to me on kindle. Sigh. So frustrating to know that they are on kindle but not if you live where I do. I really HATE geographical restrictions.

rump grump grump.

 

Finally I read a biography, which I don't often do. It was Writing at the Kitchen Table: The Authorized Biography of Elizabeth David. She was a food writer,  famous before I was born, but who taught me a lot about cooking when I was a student living in a share house, and using an old penguin paperback of hers, FRENCH PROVINCIAL COOKING. I think it was as much the quality of her lyrical, evocative  prose and the little stories and anecdotes that prefaced some of the recipes that enticed me most. I bought all her books I could find, some from used book stores, and am happy to say they're all back in print.

 

I blogged about Elizabeth David some time back -- you can read it here -- and I found her biography fascinating, not least for the portrait of the difficult and unconventional woman behind the elegant and evocative writing, but also because of the difficulties she had with her various publishers. 

 

Pat brings us magic and what I'd call a "comfort read."

 

Pat here--I'm desperately seeking escape of any sort and a good getaway is hard to find. But here's a couple I've read in recent months that fit the bill.

THE LIBRARY, THE WITCH, AND THE WARDER,  Mindy Klasky

Mindy writes fun paranormal chicklit, and one of her best characters is Jane Madison, a librarian who discovers she’s a witch. In Jane’s books, she has a magical warder assigned to keep her from creating magical disasters. David Montrose, that powerful DC warder, has his own series now, and we get to see all the problems he’s facing behind the scenes. Not only are his personal problems mounting, but magical DC is on the brink of warfare because of his best friend’s actions, while Jane’s talent is blossoming. He’s juggling more than fire balls to solve everything at once, without being demoted again. It’s a fun fantasy ride!

THE SEVEN YEAR SWITCH, Claire Cook

Lovely women’s fiction with a protagonist who was deserted by her adventure-seeking husband and left to survive on her own. She buried herself in raising their child, giving up the travel and hope of family she’d always wanted—until her husband comes home and wants back in her life again. She has to learn to live and trust and develop new relationships. There’s a lot of fun travel tidbits since she acts as a home-bound travel agent. I would have liked to see her learn enough to actually achieve some of her goals instead of just a potential new love, but it was a pleasant journey worth taking for the fun.

Mary Jo with what sounds like a fun read.

Mary Jo here. I had a delightful time reading the latest Trisha Ashley book, The House of Hopes and Dreams.  Her books are usually about creative heroines in their thirties who are rebuilding their lives (probably in Lancashire), and in the process they find a great eccentric guy who is just right for them.  In HHD, the heroine, Angelique Arrowsmith, known as Angel, is a passionate and talented stained glass artist whose life has just fallen apart. 

Angel's lifelong best friend is Carey Revells, whose enthusiasm and skills as a home renovator have made him a reality TV star on a cottage makeover show, but he and Angel haven't met much in person since they left art school and she went north to work with her older lover, a famous stained glass artist.  The book begins with Carey recovering from an accident that left him bedridden for months and cost him his TV show and his girlfriend.  Then a solicitor informs him he has inherited a large, historic, and rundown house from an uncle he never knew he had. 

The house needs lots of work, and it happens to have a stained glass workshop created by Carey's great-grandmother, a noted glass artist.  So very shortly, Angel is living in the house, helping Carey, fixing up the glass shop, and coping with an alien looking black Chihuahua mix that likes biting male ankles.  Soon the house is flowing with friends, workmen, a film crew--and plenty of hopes and dreams fulfilled as well as an old mystery unraveled.  If you like friends-to-lovers stories, this is for you! 

The House of Hopes and Dreams is right up there with my very favorite Trisha Ashley, The Twelve Days of Christmas.  Which, by happy chance, is only $2.99 in the US Kindle store.  So if you haven't read it, here's your chance for a Christmas in July.  It will make you happy and hungry. <G>

 

Andrea brings us some frank words about a favorite author,
and dives into Sharpe's Rifles.

Andrea says:  I’ve been a fan of Elizabeth George’s long-running Thomas Lynley detective series for ages. But after she shook up her readers by killing off a major character, I , like many, had a hard time getting back into it, feeling some of the books that followed lost the the sort of subtle psychological insights and interplay that made the books so interesting. I decided to give the last one a try and was heartened to feel George was getting back her mojo. I recently read her latest one, The Punishment She Deserves, and was happy to feel that George is back in top form. 

The plot begins with the apparent suicide of a well-respected churchman in a sleepy English college town. He ’s been picked on an anonymous tip accusing him of abusing children. Lynley’s sidekick, Barbara Havers is part of the two-person police team from Scotland Yard sent to do a routine investigation as the suspect supposedly hanged himself while in local police custody. Her superior is anxious to do a drive-by check up, but feisty Barbara can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right . . .

 

And so begins a probing to college binge drinking, protective parents and an intricate weaving together of mother-daughter relationships from a variety of backgrounds, probing into parental expectations/yearning for their children’s future, and what a parent will do to protect a child. I found it a complex, nuanced and sensitive story that deal with many modern day issues. Watching Lynley and Havers work through some of their own personal issues was also interesting to, as I like them both very much. It’s good to see them back in fine fettle and moving on with their lives! 

 

This month I also re-read Bernard Cornwell’s Waterloo, one of the swashbuckling Richard Sharpe books set in the Napoleonic Wars. My current Lady Arianna WIP is set in Brussels and the battle, and I had read that the book is used in many military colleges because it’s such an accurate description of the battle. Cornell is a masterful storyteller, and the non-stop action is riveting—and heartbreaking because of the carnage. I’ve made some notes for my own story about battle locations and timing (don’t worry—there won’t be so much blood and gore!) and reminded me of how much I enjoyed the entire series. If you haven’t read it yet, get Sharpe’s Tiger, the first book, which is set in India . . . you’ll be in for a rollicking ride!

 

As for me, I was reading S.A.Chakraborty's The City of Brass. This is the first in a fantasy trilogy based on a Middle Eastern mythos. It's a road trip through magical lands -- unfriendly lands full of demons. Much adventure. If I say Djinns and flying carpets it doesn't come close to describing the intricate worldbuilding.

 

There's Revolution and palace intrigue among the magical. So satisfying.

 

City of Brass is Book One of Three so the ending is problematic It's not quite a cliffhanger, but close. And it's good enough to have me looking forward to Book Two.

 

So that June in the Wench Reading Year.  A good 30 days. How's it been with you?

Napoleon Loses a Hat . . and a Battle

Andrea here, musing today on how I always enjoy it when a snippet of history unexpectedly comes to life when I least expect it. I was perusing the digital front page of the New York Times the other day (a rather depressing exercise of late, I must confess) when a small article caught me eye that actually make me smile. Now, I knew, of course, that this past Monday was the 203rd anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. But what I didn’t realize what that at some point in the raging conflict, Napoleon lost his hat . . .

Ask A Wench — childhood reading

Anne here, introducing the topic for this month's AAW (Ask A Wench): In your childhood reading was there a place you fell in love with?

Pat:  England, hands down. I read tons of Brit lit in elementary school. They used to sell Austen and Bronte in the Scholastic Library book fairs, the only time my parents gave me money for books. So I went for the great big fat books, and they were all about the white cliffs of Dover and the misty fog over the Thames and the thatched cottages in the Cotswolds. I had no idea where any of those places were, but I wanted to see them all. 

And then there were all the books about the kings and queens in the library that I had to research to figure out their relationships, because they were obviously all related, right? So then I wanted to see all their grand castles, the Tower of London, the towns and. . . I suspect I expected to see horses and carriages as well, but the cottage gardens would have sufficed! 

Guest Tracy Grant Dishes on Scandal and Historical Novels

Andrea/Cara here, Today I'm welcoming back mt dear friend and fellow author Tracy Grant to tell us a little about the some of the real-life history behind her latest book. Many of you are familiar with Tracy's Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch historical series (and if you aren't, you're in for a treat!) and know that she has a passion for history, and her books always have such fascinating backstories to the inspiration behind each book. So, without further ado, I shall pass the pen to Tracy!

The threat of being cast off by society hangs over many stories written or set in the Regency. Think of the Bennets, devastated by Lydia’s elopement, not just because she has run off with an unscrupulous man but because of the effect the scandal will have on her sisters’ marriage prospects. Or of the gossip that arises simply from Marianne Dashwood’s very public obsession with Willoughby - writing to him, confronting him at a party.

The Art of Research . . . AKA Down the Rabbit Hole!

Andrea/Cara here, I have a hard act to follow this week, as on Monday Anne plied you with tea and scrumptious goodies, followed by Mary Jo hosting our birthday celebration on Wednesday, complete with cyber chocolate and champagne. By now you are all replete with sweets and good cheer . . . leaving me wondering what titillating fun I can offer.

Well, at the Wench birthday there was much mention of how you all enjoy jumping into the research rabbit holes with us—so let’s all get down and dirty on the subject of botanical illustration in early 1800s London!

 

12 YEARS! REALLY!!!

Happy Anniversary to the Word Wenches!

by Mary Jo

This is the 12th anniversary of the Word Wenches!  I hope you joined Anne's celebration tea party on Monday.  (The cakes and tea cups were splendid!)

Today, we continue the celebrations with reminiscences and book giveaways. 12 years is a long time, and in the way publishing has changed, it's eons.

Back in 2006, blogs were the Hot New Thing. Authors wanted to be able to reach readers, interact with them, and sell books. But it seemed like so much work! Surely better to put together a group and take turns?

The idea was sparked when Susan King and I had lunch with Eileen Buckholtz, a web goddess and friend. We decided to ask a few friends if they'd like to join with us, and to my surprise, everyone we asked said yes, even the most extreme of introverts. Turns out we all wanted to chat, interact, and sell books.

Blogging seemed very mysterious at the beginning, but we eventually figured it out. (Regency writer Candice Hern was a great help since she was already an experienced blogger and has fabulous collections on her web site.) Our first post was on May 22nd, 2006, and we're still standing after all those years. <G>

Much has changed over the years as we've lost some Wenches, and acquired wonderful new ones who bring their own special stories and talents. As the writing world has changed, some of us have moved in different directions like mainstream historicals, mysteries, and paranormals.

In 2006, I was in my paranormal historical phase. I love fantasy, so I loved blending magic with real history and romance. In 2006, Stolen Magic, Book 2 of my Guardian Trilogy, was published, and I was working on Book 3, A Distant Magic. I wrote seven paranormal historicals all together, 4 adult and 3 young adult, but a year later I moved back into more traditional historical romance because in this business, things are always changing.

As one of the original Wenches, I figure I've written over 300 blogs. (!!!) But I like doing these short pieces about all sorts of topics, I love interacting with readers, and most of all, I love hanging out with my wonderfully talented, good-natured fellow Wenches. Good times, then and now!

 

 

A Royal Botanical Treasure

Andrea/Cara, musing today on gardens—specifically the Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew, as it figures into the plot of my current WIP. It seems fitting, as May is traditionally the month when flowers burst into bloom in the northern hemisphere. But here in the Northeast it’s been a very cold spring and things are way behind schedule (the leaves on the trees are not quite unfurled) so I decided to take a walk through the early history of Kew to brighten a very grey day here.

The seeds for this spectacular botanical enclave were sowed in the 16th century when Henry VII established a palace and royal hunting grounds on a swath of land by the River Thames in Richmond. It became a summer retreat for the royals, which in turn drew courtiers to build their own fancy houses in the area.

An intriguing Emperor . . .

Andrea/Cara here, I recently finished a new Lady Arianna mystery—the first full-length addition to the series since its original publication by NAL—which was great fun, as I love writing these books. In Smoke & Lies, (it releases on May 15, and is available for pre-order now) the mystery takes Lady Arianna and Lord Saybrook to Elba, where the scheming and intrigue of Napoleon’s court in exile tests their mettle . . .

Now, weaving a plot line for this was an interesting challenge, given that we all know what ultimately happened! Since I wasn’t about to change history and have my intrepid protagonists stop him from returning to France, I had to figure out how to create tension and a compelling mystery within that context. I really enjoyed weaving together actual history with my own inventions to give them a compelling conundrum to solve (at least I hope readers find it compelling! You can read an excerpt here.)

 

Fact and Fiction . . .

Andrea here, musing today about the balance of reality and an author’s creative storytelling in historical fiction. I got to thinking about this (actually, I think about it a lot, but for different reasons) because I happened to be alerted to a reader comment on Goodreads about my new mystery, Murder at Half Moon Gate. Now, like most experienced authors, I’ve learned not to take negative comments too personally, but this one got my attention because it raised an interesting question in the broader context of writing fiction.

An Incredible Discovery

Anne Gracie here, very excited to be sharing with you all an amaaaazing and incredible discovery I've recently made. As some of you may know, over the last few years I've been digging into genealogy and my family history — and have even done a bit of DNA tracing — and wow!  

I could hardly believe it when this information started to turn up, so I said nothing about it for quite a while, but little by little the evidence has mounted, and once I told a few of the wenches about my discoveries, they also got excited and chipped in their bits and pieces. It's been an extraordinary journey, but now, at last, we've agreed to go public.

Art, Murder and Science—Regency Style!

Andrea/Cara here, MURDER AT HALF MOON GATE, the second book in my Wrexford & Sloane Regency-set mystery series, releases on March 27th, (it's available for pre-order) and I thought I give you all a little backstory on what inspired the series, and on the specific theme in this upcoming book.

The series is inspired by two fascinating developments in the Regency. First is the birth of modern science in Britain—the spirit of curiosity, analytical observation and creativity. (I confess there is a certain irony about me writing about science, as the last formal class I had in the subject was ninth grade biology.) I now really regret not realizing how fascinating science is, but better late than never!

The second was the sense of camaraderie between scientists and artists during the flowering of the Romantic movement. They saw each as kindred souls, exploring the nature of life and the world around them. The Lake Poets attended scientific lectures at the Royal Institution and Percy Shelley was captivated by astronomy. In turn, Humphry Davy, the great chemist, wrote poetry. They cross-pollinated each other and helped each other see things from different perspective. I thinks it’s part of the reason for the great energy and excitement in both disciplines.

What We're Reading — February 2018

Anne here, hosting our discussion of the books we've read in February.  

We start with Pat's find of the month, THE READERS OF BROKEN WHEEL RECOMMEND, by Katarina Bivald. Pat says: I love this book! It’s a quiet book about a quiet book reader who summons the nerve to leave Sweden to visit an elderly penpal in a quiet small town in Iowa. Not just a quiet small town, but a broken one. The economy has struck the town hard. Residents have mostly died or moved away.

Amy, the penpal Sara comes to visit has also died, but the town insists that Sara stay in Amy’s home because they all knew how much Amy enjoyed reading her letters and how much Amy had been looking forward to her visit. Stunned by her situation, by the graciousness of the residents, and by the enormous library of books in Amy’s empty house, Sara quietly begins to change everything without even realizing she’s doing so.

There’s even a quiet romance. It’s an amazing journey for readers who loved The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Highly recommended! (And right now, it's only $2.51 at Amazon)  (Anne adds that she and several wenches have read and enjoyed this book, bought on Janga's recommendation on this blog back in September. Thank you Janga.)

 * * * * *

Mary Jo is sailing down a river: Her recommendation this month is The Rivers of London Series, by Ben Aaronovitch. The first book in the series is: Midnight Riot, PC Peter Grant, Book 1

Said to be a cross between CSI and Harry Potter, this series has been mentioned by a couple of other Wenches, Joanna and Pat, perhaps.  I was a little leery since I couldn't quite figure out what it was about, but once I read an excerpt of the first book, Midnight Riot, it made perfect sense.  In a fantasy-ish sort of way.  <G>

Peter Grant is a diligent young London constable with a mother from Sierra Leone and a father who is a talented but often addicted jazz musician.  His mixed heritage plays into the story in various ways, including his being a bit of an outsider.  He become much more of one when he has a chat with a ghost and is seen by a DCI Thomas Nightingale, who turns out to be the only licensed wizard in Britain and in charge of investigating all crimes involving magic and 'other beings.'

In no time at all, Peter is working for him as an apprentice wizard, which turns out to be dangerous but far more interesting than being a police paper shuffler.  Peter is a great character--smart and funny and committed to helping people even when it takes him into mortal peril.

What kind of reader were you as a kid?

Joanna here, asking the Wenches "What kind of reader were you as a kid?"
Maybe I'm asking, where do adult readers come from?

 

Anne begins:

 

What kind of reader was I?

In a word? Insatiable — and I still am now. By day I was happy to be out and about, playing and exploring with my dog, but come night-time it was essential to my happiness that I always have something to read. (We didn't have TV -- my father didn't approve of it.) I don't remember not being able to read, but probably that's because my parents and siblings read to me a lot. AA Milne — the poetry as well as the Winnie the Pooh stories, Pookie the flying rabbit, whatever they had, and once I could read I read everything I could lay my hands on. Not so much cereal boxes though — for me it was stories every time. Enid Blyton was a very prolific English children's writer, and I read everything I could find of hers, starting with Noddy, then The Magic Faraway Tree, and moving on to the Famous Five and many other series.

We always went away at Christmas (which are our long summer holidays) and my presents always included a book or two, so in the caravan or tent I read  my new books and then went on to read my brother's and sisters' books, even though they're a decade older than me. 7 isn't much of a playmate for 17, so whether it was tennis, or card games or scrabble in the evening, I couldn't join in. So it was usually a book for me.

 

Luckily we moved a lot, and in any new town the first place I sought out was the local library, and then when I started school it was the school library. In one school, another bookworm friend and I became a bit competitive — we were reading a decent sized book a night. The school librarian didn't believe we could read that fast and he'd grill us about each book before he'd let us borrow another one. 

 

Now I live in a house filled with books, my childhood friends and my adult companions. Some evoke special times or events, and with some I recall exactly where I was when I first read them. I wonder sometimes what kind of person I'd be if I'd been raised in a home with no books. Would I be a writer, or not? I really don't know.

 

Pat comes in with:

As I suspect most of the wenches and the majority of writers will say—I was an eclectic and voracious reader. One of my earliest memories is of lying on the floor with a book my librarian great-aunt had sent me for Christmas. I knew my alphabet but couldn’t read, and I had no one to read me the story promised by all the exotic pictures of foreign countries. So I lay there day after day, puzzling out the words on my own.

I begged for the Little Golden Books in the grocery store and to this day can probably quote from Poky Little Puppy and The Little Engine That Could. We had no library or bookstore, so I would read the stories over and over, making up my own to go with the pictures. 

Once I was able to access the school library, I knew no bounds. I’d pretty much read everything in the elementary school library by the time I was in sixth grade, including all the sports books meant for boys. I was reading Austen and Bronte because I could buy them through the Scholastic book club. I read Wheaties boxes at breakfast.

Those days are long gone, and I’m much too particular now. I can’t decide if that’s regrettable or not. I mean, Wheaties boxes? Let’s have a little discrimination!

 

 

 

 

Nicola:

 

Like so many other bookish children I was a reader who read anything and everything. It was an amazing voyage of discovery finding out about people and places I had never imagined, past, present and fantastical. I look back on those days with nostalgia and some envy because I don’t think it’s possible to capture quite the same rush of excitement and drive for reading that I had then. I read about children who went to boarding school, who had ballet lessons, who kept horses, who lived in the middle ages or in different countries. I particularly loved stories about big families with siblings because I didn’t have any.

 

My favourites were The Brydons (especially the Brydons on the Broads because there was a ghostly Viking ship involved) and the Fell Farm Campers because I lived in a city and the countryside seemed a strange and exotic place. I loved science fiction, I scared myself with ghost stories, and I cried over The Secret Garden and A Little Princess. Happy Days!